art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Who do I actually Want to Be?
Truth seeps out like vibrant light Dripping gold from skin Whispers of my heart burn bright Listening to what's within Dancing fingers float through air A gift of song that moves the soul Perfectly does not exist 'cept in minds of overachievers and overexpecters I let it go Slipping into what I know Taking my time to let it grow Skipping around with the flow Bring about a calloused bow Stopping, to take a breath I let it go Drop- -p- -ing in to the unknown creating new with love intent and letting it glow Action with a consequence Let it be in truth Reaction gets the same stance Let it be in truth Responsibility falls within the confines of only me I take it all and breathe it in I set my boundaries free Transmute Transform Create a warm Energy from within I am the light; the light is me I will not be, if I'm not free I can only really be me. Truth seeps out like vibrant light Dripping gold from skin Caressing simply fervent plight Searching what's within Acting from a place of love Reacting just the same Standing in my truth as I hold a space that's safe to unfold into the unknown diving into the deep end of emotion Knowing my emotions well feeling fully I can tell Letting my body speak its truth listening silently to the inner sensations vibrations of mine creating spirals in the sand spinning dancing twirling 'round I touch the ground I dig in my roots hold the earth with pure intent hugging the soil with every branch I take my stance A long-waited truth spills forth I let it go And now I climb I bring to me what's mine I string my dreams Out to dry Not only do I take the leap I succeed and bring it home to me I create what I need I have it all all that I need My heart drips with gold She brings my honesty humbly She pulses with rhythm That tells my silent truths The secrets that lie within she holds under lock and key Saving for a special moment to release and I let it go
By Tanya Leij10 months ago in Poets
Hey Buddy Let Us Work. Content Warning.
This is the last part of the series about The Boy Who Lost His Soul. This is a sci-fi horror fiction story created by Vicki. Outstages Cafe Production is a virtual Cafe offering time travel, different scenarios, banana milk, and music. Little spooky!
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
Mostly Water
Thyme and sage Wisdom on page Not a philosopher Barely a poet Switch blade Suicide Not a philosopher Rarely a footnote List. List. To sea. The s ea Not a philosopher As the waves c rash free from r ock poo ls and buoyed la goons (They consume.) Early destructor Trying to make 75% (water)whole When. Of water S ource m eets ve ssel Facilitation is takenNot offered. As I sit by the waters edge, fee ding pig eonsreminiscing I feel a clarity e mergefrom beneath the b,(r)each of the fog. Survival is as much within grasp as total era sure Not a philoso. * Author's Notes: This sits alongside two others I posted earlier (“. , noise , .” and “Refusal”). All ee were written in response to a recent article and an exchange about poetry, permission, and meaning. This piece approaches the conversation from the body rather than argument.
By Paul Stewart10 months ago in Poets
