When we close our eyes we sink deeper into the feeling of the experience.
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Thank you for this spontaneous and lovely collaboration Mr Juan @juan-francisco-palencia It was a pleasure putting this together with you. 🙏😊 Haven’t done one of these since my Instagram days.
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The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
At night’s delicious close.
Between the March and April line—
That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
Almost too heavenly near.
It makes us think of all the dead
That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
Made cruelly more dear.
It makes us think of what we had,
And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
Would go and sing no more.
An ear can break a human heart
As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
So dangerously near.
Thanks for submitting this beautiful poem by Emily Dickinson. It is a bit too long for me to write. Because it worked so well last time, let's turn this into a collaborative calligraphy piece! Every calligrapher writes two verses, then tags another calligrapher to continue it until the poem is finished. I'm tagging @noctuamagna to continue!
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Poetry Chain (finished)
Thanks to all 9 participating poets for writing this beautiful poem together!
Yearning for you is nothing but a river of lava without a bridge,
And crossing it is a sacrifice of repeated pain.
Tears flood my eyes that were left, rooting, craving your presence,
Once lovers, we are now miles away from where we started with no way back.
Sunrise be my compass rose true north
Yours is the guiding star that burns within, you, without
And yet rudderless I roam; removed, estranged
Dreams are for dreamers—this sailor cannot sleep
Now, unburdened of hope, its ashes weigh ominously upon my neck
Haunted by your vision, I try to drown it in the black foam
Devotion, you know, tastes of pennies and mercy
When this pen in my hand paints in red your beauty
And perhaps we'll find each other again in another life
In faith so inevitable, I'd like to believe
That the undertaker has not come for us yet, dressed in red.
Our lives are pulverulent, but I want to grab your hand ...
Determined to make a change I learn to let go
Vexed by the very urges I detest.
Poets in order of verses: @unmondefou @dg-fragments @env0writes @imfullofworms @ebookporn @bluesundaycake @charlies-storybook @betweenthetimeandsound @pelicandensity
Word collection: beauty, tears, estranged, sunrise, vision, yearning, inevitable, pulverulent, undertaker, dreamers, lovers, unburdened, determined, devotion, sacrifice, vexed, perhaps, yours
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Christopher Citro & Dustin Nightingale read their collaborative poem "Where There Are No People for No Music I Hear Music"
Improvised piano by Sarah Ruhlen
Poem first published by Bear Review
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Two days ago I made this poem as a spoken word and happened to post it at the exact same time my friend, @wordsbyjenpoetry posted her piece. We had no idea the other had written the exact same theme and posted at the the exact same time, words that unbeknownst to either of us, made a beautiful collaboration when put together. So we put it together. The work of synchronicity.
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underneath a painted spiraling clouded cast
a silence as heavy as death
horse and rider, we stopped for a thought
fatigued beyond my worst memory
but i have promises to keep and miles to
go before i sleep
i hear the night as if it is a chorus of whispering
trees, eager to learn its language
i am down on the floor, one ear to the ground
and one eye to the moon
i discovered hollow grace buried underneath...
extract from "American Darkness" by nathaniel jericho quin,
@wristcuff on tumblr
( july 2020 @sandmoonyelsephotography )
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I’m
I’m obsessive, I’m compulsive
I’m the disorder
I’m bipolar, I’m paranoid
I’m the psychosis
I’m schizophrenic, I’m delusional
I’m the hallucination
I’m depression, I’m postpartum
I’m the personality trait
I’m misconception, I’m misconstrued
I’m the stigma
I’m paraphrenia, I’m paraphernalia
I’m the substance-abuse
I’m diagnoses, I’m treatment
I’m the medication
I’m hope, I’m faith
I’m the cure
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Welcome!
To my secret hideout, no password required, my blanket fort in a thunder storm, the inner workings (malfunctions) of my brain.
This isn't a place I've shown anybody before. So if you've found me, don't tell anyone.
Things are dark here. And sad. They're real and they've found me. Please be wary going forward, there are triggers hidden everywhere. This is your warning.
Enjoy your stay and I hope you never feel this way.
Check the tags for a quick directory of my collection ♡
(It is a work in progress, I swear I am trying to organize my life)
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Forced to stay still
There's room
But not for me
Shoved on the shelf
A fate decided
By higher powers
Who placed the
Bookends
With slapdash hands
Where I'll build
Spiders their castles
In a dust mote
Promised land
Collaboration with the brilliant @lithium-late-nights//prompt: bookends
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Golden tears
I claw out my skin, hoping they would scratch my eyes
Crying golden tears, they scald my hands and melt my flesh.
Lost with saudade, I don't go home still,
for it's only a figment, like the tip of a cigarette.
If it weren’t for that fateful kiss,
I could have escaped the abyss.
A true heart made of gold;
Devoid of emotion, under my fingers turning cold.
If I can't see again, it would be better.
Rather than have a filtered fantasy,
I would hear the truth from you,
and feel your intent.
When the leaves turned golden,
Everything led up to this event.
The gods have failed what they promised to protect:
A blossoming love, now doomed with neglect.
Written in collaboration with my talented fellow poet Elda @betweenthetimeandsound (her words in cursive)
Tag list under the cut. Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list.
Tag list: @matcha-chai @dg-fragments @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @scatteredthoughts2 @rhapsodyinblue80 @alaskaisnothere @stoic-words @september-stardust @wordsforsadpeeps @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @callmepippin @a-musingmichelle @kirkshiresloss @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes @tini-rat @captain-kraken
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Poetry Chain (thread)
Thanks to all 10 poets who want to participate in our poetry chain!
Participants: @charlies-storybook @env0writes @unmondefou @betweenthetimeandsound @ebookporn @fizzawrites @pelicandensity @bluesundaycake @imfullofworms @dg-fragments
Word collection: beauty, tears, estranged, starlight, sunrise, vision, yearning, inevitable, pulverous, undertaker, dreamers, lovers, unburdened, determined, devotion, sacrifice, vexed, entrenched, perhaps, yours
The first participating poet who reblogs this post starts the poetry chain. Have fun writing together!
Reblog this post and write two verses using two words from the word collection.
Tag another poet who participates to reblog it and continue with two verses using two other words from the collection.
Always include the word collection at the beginning of your reblogged post and cross out the words you used.
You can reread the rules in detail here.
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Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.
To the poet, this world is falling apart
I'm at the center becoming ash and rubble
My stars tell me I am the hole at the bottom of the Earth
Saying I've been grasping at the edge of a cliff
The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me slip
This greed is spilling into my heavy soul
fingers reaching like anchors
Teach me how to let go so that when I fall I can fly
Poetry is so sad and majestic
We are poets in a world searching for safe ground
Unobtainable, we try anyways.
//we are poets by: alec prado//
To the poet this world is spiraling
I'm at the center becoming a shadow
My doctor tells me I've been searching for the light again
Saying I've been grasping at a body I can reach my hands in
The poet's desire to hoard everything
is making me dizzy with fear
This greed is spilling into my rib cage
Making my bones heavy like anchors
Teach me how to let go so that when I sleep I can sleep forever
Poetry is shadowy and majestic
We are poets in a world without form
Unobtainable, we try anyways
//sleep forever by: alec prado//
To the poet, this world is an apple
I'm at the core ready to drop
My skin tells me I am delicious
Saying I've been grasping at the branch for so long
The poet's desire to hoard everything
is making me wanted
This greed is spilling into my core
Your eyes heavy like anchors
Teach me how to let go so that when I fall you can catch me
Poetry is so sweet and majestic
I am an apple in your orchard
Unobtainable, you try anyways
//catch me by: alec prado//
I tried to include as many poets as I could so if you weren't included you can write your version of my poem and tag it @sonreyes!
To the poet, this world is [ ].
I'm at the center becoming [ ].
My [ ] tell(s) me [ ].
Saying I've been grasping at [ ].
The poet's desire to hoard everything
is making me [ ].
This greed is spilling into my [ ].
[ ] heavy like anchors.
Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ].
Poetry is so [ ] and majestic.
We are poets in a world [ ].
Unobtainable, we try anyways.
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I believe our writings should provoke, inspire, make you think, give birth to new creations and that’s what Mr Emmanuel does with his writings. And that’s how this piece came to be.
Thank you Mr Emmanuel 🙏@esuemmanuel . Keep inspiring 🖋️📖
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I wrote this poem using the rose as a metaphor for women, back in 2017 but never published it for some reason and forgot about it. When I found it in my archives, I showed it to my bestie, Jen, @wordsbyjenpoetry to ask if she liked it, when she uttered something so poetic in response that it sounded like it would go perfectly with my poem. Another impromptu collab is born. Same hearts, same minds. Thank you, Jen, for this poetic dance.
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