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#writerscreed
heartofmuse · 21 hours ago
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I love you beyond anything, beyond doubt, beyond reason, with every incandescent feeling within me. I love you with a passion and into the realm of the impossible. My soul comes apart before you and is not afraid nor of its naked vulnerability nor of your darkness. Here I will stay by your side and burn so gloriously that the sun and stars will smile at me.
e.v.e.
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sedehaven · 2 days ago
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Darklings
Leave the porchlight off--
we have never needed it
to make our way. Nor
have we needed the
fickle moon.
Beloved, we are born
of the night. You at the
moment when the evening
stretches her cool skin
over the fevered flesh
of the Earth. And me?
I came silent in the darkest
hour of the shortest
night. Umbral and abyssal,
chasms unlit by stars. Born
of the void, we need
no stars, no moon, no light
(at all)
to find ourselves in the
velvet embrace of our
native night. We are
what casts no shadow
(for we are too dark
to have shadows)
and in the dew-kissed night,
we dance, my love.
We dance.
-- S. E. De Haven
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lebuc · a day ago
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upon a time
* once we once I once you
once it was once in once we were & we then we
once i wished once i thought once you said
once you once i once we were then it was
once. * 12/21 - lebuc - upon a time
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The lily of the valley,
Whom you had a rendezvous
With, has bloomed atlast
No longer she blushes at your glance
Fragrance of her souls
Fills the valleys, she has untied
The beauty, she was caged in once
The soul you met,
Has personified the sun............
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tinysupergiant · 2 days ago
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Four walls and a heart
Perhaps if the walls were a different colour — maybe if the glass refilled itself and my plate looked just fine empty — maybe then I would be happy.
But the heart — this heart — is a monster. And monsters serve no purpose, are never our servants, and do not exist inside of a cage
save for the moments in which they are trying to break free.
“Do not let freedom be the enemy of despair” I tell it. “Do not forget that: the walls are white; the glass is empty; the plate is full;
and without your cage to rage against: you? you would be nothing.”
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oldsoulnewmoon · 2 days ago
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Latin Jazz. (playing in the background)
sometimes the icy moon dances upon my chest in the early rise of the morning somewhere I left my stationary bike at your house for comfort and long conversations sometimes the bend in the fork reminds me of your love somewhere I speak in a foreign tongue on special days sometimes your breath has splinters and pierces my skin somewhere I drink coffee to stay alive sometimes I wake in the sunlight of your smile somewhere you dance to my snippets of passion sometimes I long for my touch to sustain you somewhere you melt with my voice that will cover you for tonight
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creatingnikki · 2 days ago
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It's disconcerting sometimes when I talk to someone new and someone I like. Someone who has the mind and heart to perhaps understand these parts of me and then I hear the way I speak and I realize I am nothing more than a wounded child. I usually think I am so strong and over everything. That I have the wisdom of the world and the inner peace to deal with the chaos of today and the trauma of yesterday and the dystopia of tomorrow. That I have accepted the kinds of people I have met and the kinds of things they have done to me. But then when I talk to some people who I think I can show some of my heart to, and I hear the way I speak, it hits me. My words, the way I think, my sentiments, they are all laced with fear, anxiety, mistrust, shame, guilt, blame, and so much it is towards other people but a lot of it is towards me. It makes me want to laugh. This image of me being so well put together and solid is shattered within minutes of a conversation that flows between me and someone I think I can respect because I think their soul carries the same weight of the values and beliefs that this world discards. And so I am left vulnerable and seeking validation. Will you ruffle my hair and look at me with adoration and tell me that I am doing good and that I am loved? Will you kiss me on my cheek and embrace me in a way that makes my scars golden with healing? I know I have to love myself and I know I have to heal myself but is it so bad to want to stop and rest my head on your chest?
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seagulls-den · 2 days ago
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Eurydice, Again
Deceiving death And by death deceived She haunts me, melodically Alive in every lyric and tune As I sing on our way to the threshold Why must I keep looking back? Unwittingly, I lose myself in memory Reveries labyrinthian and alluring; Infinite pathways that unfold, Of which none lead forward How does one move on  From a love that may still live?
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just-4-thought · 2 days ago
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What do I do with you?
You who stood in the town square wailing
Showing onlookers your wounds
From a battle with me,
The monster who moved to town.
What of the your roseless thorn brambles now?
Ripping and shredding,
Their taste for flesh unsated,
Since the monster moved to town.
And with your hooks trampled down
How will you deliver all the bad children's lashes now?
The monster bears a warning
A scolding
Of your past wrongs
But scream at everyone you meet,
You've done nothing wrong?
It's a mother's prerogative to tear that one child down,
To support the abusers,
To strike the abused,
To whisper
And wail
And get the word out
"The monster moved to town!"
Everyone will know it by the ghastly lacerations
that stink of bleeding rose
You've done nothing wrong
It's the monster that moved to town.
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think-through-pen · a day ago
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Strangely Familiar
For as long as I can remember, my mother warned me against one thing.
'Don't go near that river,' she'd say. 'That will eat you.'
One day, I followed her quietly. She went to that river with a rose and sat staring at the bottom of the river. Our neighbours threw strange looks at her, and that got on my nerves.
'I'll go there, mummy,' I said, tugging at her sleeves, 'if you go there every day, why can't I?'
'No!' she kissed my forehead. 'You will not. Be a good boy. I'll be back in a while, so go upstairs and read the books I bought you.'
'Okay,' I said, 'come back soon.'
'I'll come tomorrow, hun. Don't worry, I called Martha. She'll cook you dinner.'
The sun was melting with the river, and so was my patience. I lied to Martha that I was going to Bill's. I regretted that decision, for she'll come looking for me around dinner time.
It's strange how there was no one around. I stood on the place from where my mother stared at the bottom. There was nothing at the bottom. Nothing at all. It's strange. There was no water, no fish, no movement from that bottom. The more I focused on that spot, the darker the spot grew. I rubbed my eyes, for fear of going blind.
'Oy!' someone tapped on my shoulder.
'Go home, son,' the watchman said, 'what are you starin' at?'
'That dark spot.' I pointed at it. 'Can you see it?'
'I don't see any,' he threw a suspicious look at me, 'wait...can you actually see something?'
'Yes. It's unusual, right?'
'There's a rumour, boy,' his voice reduced to a whisper, 'there's a creature at the bottom. I remember, four years ago, a man drowned in this river. The people around him tried to save him, but they couldn't save him. No matter how many people joined hands, the force from the river grew only stronger. It's like the river was pulling him in. The last thing that man said still sends chills down my spine.'
'What were his last words?' I turned to him. 'Tell me.'
'I want a rose.'
'I see.'
'Don't ask much,' he turned around, 'go home, boy.'
'Okay.'
I took out a rose from my bag and stared at the bottom, pretending to talk to the man who drowned.
'Have you brought the rose, Lily?' a voice fell on my ears.
'Yes,' my eyes wide with wonder, 'here.'
'Are you Lily?'
How did he know mummy's name? I was dumb-struck for a while.
'No, but I'm her son.'
'Son?' he replied. 'What's your name?'
'P-Peter.' I dropped the rose in fear.
A rope rose from the river and it took the rose.
'Careful!' he said. 'Roses are delicate.'
'Who are you?' I asked. 'How do you know my mother's name?'
'It doesn't matter. Say my thanks to Lily, Peter.'
'Okay,' I distanced from the river, 'I-I will.'
The river became still. The darkness was still there. I turned around and looked the last time. What I saw shocked me beyond words.
'Mom!' I told her the next day. 'I saw a man at that river bottom. He knows your name. Who's he?'
'Your father.' her voice trembled. 'Sorry, Peter, I hid it from you.'
Here's the story. @strawberrie-faerie
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heartofmuse · a day ago
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Sometimes I miss you so endlessly, I smile. Yes, I smile because the missing is just a reflection of the endless in me, the endless love that for you in my heart I hold. Yes, even missing you is a joy, even missing you makes me smile because I know what a blessing it is to have you.
e.v.e
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sedehaven · a day ago
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Morning Song and Dance
The winds are whispering through
leaves of grass--a conversation
in secret tongues. Breathing
sibilant sighs. Infinity trembles
in the blades, like vocal chords,
and the morning sings beneath
its dew. Barefoot, we dance
the secrets that have no finite
start, no due completion.
Circle dance beneath the clear
blue eye of the endless.
No other witness to this joy--
the joy of feeling the breath
and heartbeat of something
(someone) incubating the eternal
just beneath our joyful feet.
-- S. E. De Haven
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Ribbons
Ribbons
I follow the ribbons in the air;
Undulating, curling, twisting, winding,
Hypnotizing ribbons above me,
In front of me.
Leading onto destinations sometimes sure,
Many times unknown.
Ribbons of light snaking through the dark,
Leading me through the haze
Through the maze
Along paths of ebony gloss
Of numbing grays
And feathery whites.
Challenging the stars for dominion
Unabashed before Zeusian bolts
Giving sway only to Sol’s crystalline brilliance.
Through desert wastes
Over mountains exalted
And fertile, lush plains and forests
I follow their leads as one
Tethered by gilded ribbons to dreams unclaimed.
K. C. Barry
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Day 1: First Snowfall
Taking a normal stroll in the woods, and
Taking notice at the dead ground around and
Underneath my feet.
Feeling a chill against me
As I smell the crisp winter air.
And then I see a little snowflake
Fall gently to the ground.
I look up and thousands of snowflakes are
Falling from the sky.
Covering the ground making a
Blanket of pure white snow.
Covering the trees to give them white leaves.
Covering my hair before raising the hood of my jacket.
Walking and staring in awe to
Witness the magic of seeing the
First snow fall.
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purgatorypoetry · 2 days ago
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everything is closing, leaves folding together like pages like countless stories ending
this and another other year
these darknesses scarred into our backs, it looks like wings torn away or razor lacerations, really just the memories we can't let go
too heavy to fly, decades chained to ankles but we dance we
jingle-jangle
it's the rhythm in the feet, dancing, hands drumming, heart thrumming tires on the highway and the thousand everywhere's I already wish
I already was
earth below and gods above, prayers and gratitudes and serenity and hope,
tastes like candies forgotten since youth
may your tomorrow be an apple jolly rancher -
the deja vu flavor of a kiss upon waking of hands that touch so lightly like a
never ending goodbye
may your tomorrow's all be blue raspberry seas and
cherry, strawberry skies,
grape sunsets and watermelon sunrises
---------------------------
Happy birthday @becomingpoet !
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oldsoulnewmoon · a day ago
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how to get lost.
there is splendor as imagination adrift softly like lace from skin threaded off obscure streets and I muse a little nothing if not undemanding but demanding the beauty a primrose paths to silence the entangle and I, deep in a maze
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everytimeyousaygoodbye · 11 hours ago
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I have forgotten to love you
But, when seated with company
Or lost in my own valleys
I speak the tales your fingers
Wrote on my flesh, on my soul
On my lips, on my being
I tell them often to the souls
I meet,
For you are a brighter shine
My eyes illuminates, my tongue tastes
I recite the poems after you
To the stars and dust
I pronounce your name again and again
I play your tune, on Sun filled days
I often speak of you in haze
I have forgotten to love you
If you ask the air around me
She will say I still love you............
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delightsofmysoul · 2 days ago
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Dead Sea
The transition from love to scant disregard is a difficulty journey To embrace and accept another wholeheartedly To listen without judgement Smile fondly at their foibles To feel a warmth spread throughout every part of your being Shared secrets Precious memories To be replaced with a void A vacuum Where nothing can live Some would say that you cannot think about the moment you actually pass from this earth I do not need to summon it to my mind For I am experiencing it in my body Each day I place one foot in front of the other Undertake my daily activities And yes On occasion laugh uproariously Yet I am dead inside Initially it was though a whirlpool swirled inside of me Travelling at such a velocity That every memory Every word flitted across my mind momentarily I have never seen the Dead Sea I do not need to A flat Heavy space Where I cannot drown Cannot end this infernal suffering Rather I float on the salty bed of my own tears of loss and regret.
Delightsofmysoul 2 December 2021
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