Geliebte

I'm Eboni and I am a Thinker. I bring forth the stars my body reaches for. My pen and Journal design the world I deserve. There are Exploring

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Medicine Man

They often wondered how did he cradle that serum, so? Easy. To allow the instrument to level just beneath the surface and into the green streams that powered him. A well rested man would let his head fall just a little unconscious. It wasn’t the neck that gave way, it was the brain, as his eyes receded to picture the inside. Give picture to the inside. Snap shot the inside. Eyelids fluttering. A…

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After some studying, food for thought..

After some studying, food for thought..

The world used to turn to poets when it could trust the words of no one else. What it is about an art form that is evasive by nature that makes strangers feel secure?

And well..

Is it evasive? Or is it the complete opposite?

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Li(e)be/ration You can tell by the pull of someone, the way their pumping frequencies, blue and green through the flesh,

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👑

Amstelveen

Who would have thought I’d ever be this version of “me”. I’ve dreamt of her. I’ve dreamt of her smile and the voice she kept soft. I’ve dreamt of her walk.

My goodness, her walk. In my dreams, it was commanding. Each step was a step forward, one move right after the other. With a slight bop. She walked in the tune of her favorite songs, although her voice was quiet, her feet sang along.

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Re: Good Morning Original Post

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Intro to "Life": My Favorite Story

Intro to “Life”: My Favorite Story

We

created fear.

It was the muse

behind

being regular

fitting in

following your “friends”;

it was the gate

around your temple

letting no one in

and no one

out.

We

created fear.

As reason

for treason

for wars:

internal // external;

de-emphasizing

our own roles

and contributions

to the detriment of our societies.

I broke out.

I set ablaze

my old stomping grounds

that told me it wasn’t my place

to…

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I came across this today.. Show respect even to people who don't deserve it, not as a reflection of their character, but as a reflection of yours.

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God is love

Love’ll look you in your eyesand act

like he knows you first hand.

Like he was there

when you first heard your name

Like he was there to teach

you to be sane

Like he was there to bleed

blood in your veins

gave you a

reason to blame-

the only reason you made- it to today.

And He’s absolutely right.

He is. We have to remember why we woke up this morning. It was not luck that I got to see the Sun…

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Psalm 91:14-16 (NIV)

“Because he loves me” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

A promise God made to the King. But really, a promise He makes to all of His children daily. Fall in love with Him. If you…

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Prayer to Poem

I calm oceans with a deep breath.

I’ve been at the horizon I’ve been at the point where I had to hold up the sky, all the while ringing up to God wondering why my back was breaking I’ve screamed there I’ve raised my voice at clouds that threatened to rain on me, and did. I could swear the tide would’ve swallowed me whole

calling up to God, at the horizon, holding the sky wondering why my back was…

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Sorry.

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Good morning

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Just. Write.

For quite some time

my sentences were making me

instead of the other way around.

My words had been using me

to make themselves feel greater.

Punctuation had been trying to

confine me,

I bent out of shape.

I could be molded by ideas

that had been contracted by ink and page

but did not include

my daze.

One so empty it let bonded books

stir up my spirit.

Old work

began to frame me.

Took the me I was…

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Good morning

In the air I can feel a still-ness not the kind that keeps you still, but the kind that reminds you of movement makes you yearn for movement

the kind that allows you to fall in love with your own steps

falling in love with progression.

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Notice

Prolonging Storyteller:

Close to me

Originally posted on Story Teller:

It is not fortunate that the roots of the tree receive no praise. We are obsessed with the growth and the fall of the leaves. We are obsessed with the change of the colors from quarter year to quarter year. But no acknowledgement is given to the piece that remains; the piece that consistently gets stronger and stronger in rain,…

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Solace, in more than one way.

Solace, in more than one way.

Originally posted on Story Teller:

We pretend more when we see ourselves in front of and behind the lens. When someone else captures the photo you can blame the solace on the photographer.

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A break in my day. 1/X

A break in my day. 1/X

Originally posted on Story Teller:

Dostoyevsky taught us that if a man has lived one day then he can survive 100 if in prisoned within the same gray walls. He can survive on his memories.

The power of memory. The power to be brought back to a moment your senses have some affinity to. The power to smell a smell and remember the last day you smelled that smell. It’s difficult to notice that when…

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