hopefuldiplomatfarmpersona

[griff-crimson]

🎳

The curtains mute the room,

Faint lavender encapsulates it,

Paintings tilt periodically

As the swaying pine rustles

And a magpie steals its needles.

Now I am more alone—

A solitary sandpiper

Walking the shoreline,

Fading with the seafoam.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

The grains of sand

Collapse like dominoes,

One after another;

Columns turn into rows

Of failed designs.

Distance is my comfort,

Observing from afar.

I will not interfere in the stories;

They are my canvas,

And I, the easel.

Hopping on the beach,

The magpie gifted me

A brush and oils;

Now I have everything,

But I don't know where to start.

‎

[reliabls]

#griff-crimson #writing #poem

[reliabls]

[reliabls]

#writing #poem #mj♥️

[ends-2-beginnings]

Fabrizio Daminelli •

Cordulegaster boltonii - Golden-ringed dragonfly

[reliabls]

#photography #fabriziodamineli #golden-ringed dragonfly

[kaytpoems]

the darkness parts like blackened curtains

milky glow hung on invisible

string. the moon hangs like a

pendulum. choosing who to 

look at. the writers. the lovers. 

the lonely insomniacs.

~K.T.

[reliabls]

#poem#writing#kaytpoems

[thehopefulquotes]

“He used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

[bluesandbarebones]

An accidental encounter with a poem can bring you back into the world, can remind you that you are in the world, part of it.

Ada Limón, Against Breaking: On the Power of Poetry

[ramblebrambleamble]

The devotion of the ocean bends and breaks along the shore,

Waves of pure emotion against the cliffs that they adore,

And the land turns to the rivers, and clogs them up with silt;

Dirty fury flows in answer, but the ocean has no guilt.

[rosariomartinezpenas]

"One ring to rule them all"

-Lord of The Rings

Support my work on Patreon & Ko-Fi!

Also read my comic Genesis on Tapas & ComicFury

[bluesandbarebones]

Is any poem ever a failure because it goes unpublished or unshared? No, because didn't it make you pay attention, the act of writing? Didn't you, even briefly, feel as if you inhabited the world? Didn't it, for a moment, make you feel connected to language? Didn't you find a container for your heart?

Ada Limón, Against Breaking: On the Power of Poetry

[overclassy]

[jmsapphire]

She did not die

She left, you lie

And now it comes -

earthquakes and hurricanes

typhoons and heavy rains

and droughts and desert-like pains

all in one bleeding bag of Earth

You lie, she left, and didn't die

but she left anyway, as good as dead

We ate her mountains and riverbeds

Water unshared and people bled

both drowned and thirst

this suffering never ends

the pendulum bends

but didn't break ... yet

She isn't dead but it feels as if she's dying

We suffer and still we aren't trying

Acting as if tomorrow still comes

The clock is ticking, thrums the war drums

It's you and I

Not you against I

You lie, they lie, she'll never die

but we can, and we are slowly, and we will

If we don't bring her back

If we don't speak her will

If all our thoughts and acts still ill

We will.

- The expense of the greed

[reliabls]

do you mind my finding my life again

each time I read your essays

in the tiny alphabets watching

so many situations... come alive,

again.It all looks pedestrian, because like

the street corners on different high streets...

where there's enough of beauty passing by

to reason we leave home contesting... to win.

Your poems go after chaos...as new life.

I am in conversation in the new hope you leave,

to seem to be here with me, there...

a fork in a pathway in front; unless,

you understand and I can see you... leading.

flowers are yet to appear,

nameless,to us,but having beauty,

in better prospect than a desert:

Just as we hunger for in another planet ?

Just so you know what you are...

[reliabls]

do you mind my finding my life again

each time I read your essays

in the tiny alphabets watching

so many situations... come alive,

again.It all looks pedestrian, because like

the street corners on different high streets...

where there's enough of beauty passing by

to reason we leave home contesting... to win.

Your poems go after chaos...as new life.

I am in conversation in the new hope you leave,

to seem to be here with me, there...

a fork in a pathway in front; unless,

you understand and I can see you... leading.

flowers are yet to appear,

nameless,to us,but having beauty,

in better prospect than a desert:

Just as we hunger for in another planet ?

Just so you know what you are...

[allnightsong2]

D5-01/2110

A hollow howl of crippled outrage

touch my lips look up to see

my eyes gone crimson ftom

swallowing the evening whole

cotton gone slick not soft

the sweat is there already

this town could be everywhere

we could choose to be anyone

else

another Friday night trapped

in a calendar thar won't evolve

the weeks just grow stale

even as they rush by

see the clouds bend the light

of the vanished sun

just as desire bends

our fading will

so tell me again

with your cinnamon lips

those dreams as wet and deep

as this summer night

erase my name with a single finger

and rewrite me into whoever it takes

to be here tonight

seeing only what it takes to

be real enough to matter

[throughthe-sleeplessnight-blog]

Visit Original Link

Possession - Sarah Mclachlan

Oh, you speak to me in riddles, and you speak to me in rhymes. My body aches to breathe your breath; your words keep me alive.

[poppiesandpromises]

Skinned peach, sweet flesh

Sunlight strewn, salty fresh

Shadows slither up my skin

A heat unwinding within

I turn a blade behind my smile

Silence to entrance and to beguile

Come closer, lover

Stand here under my soft cover

I am a wild woods, these limbs gently sway

You can retreat but you can't turn away

I am the candle, you are the flame

You'll still see my face & recall my name

[reliabls]