#poetic journey

[glennriley49]

Through the Storms

We began as fireworks in the night,

Lighting shadows with a dazzling sight.

Each word, sweet honey on the tongue,

Moments cherished, songs unsung.

But as twilight stretched, we lost our way,

Whispers sharpened, turned to fray.

When sparks grew dim, and warmth withdrew,

Lonely winds of silence blew.

Are we ready for the storms ahead,

The stinging rain, the paths we dread?

Love’s no tale of endless cheer,

It’s both the laughter and the tear.

Through deserts vast, forests deep,

We’ll seek the home our hearts would keep.

To touch that distant, sunlit shore,

We face the storm, endure once more.

Insecurity, a silent shade,

Jealousy, a thief well-played.

When joy falters, silence reigns,

Drowning echoes, unvoiced pains.

Promises once carved in gold,

Now crack under the strain they hold.

Yet still I rise, to fight, to mend,

To brave what’s broken, to defend.

Are we ready for the storms to come,

When voices falter, hearts go numb?

Love’s no tale spun from ease,

It’s the tempest and the breeze.

Through barren sands, tangled trees,

We’ll chase our hope, though on our knees.

To reach that paradise unknown,

We face the storm, and face it alone.

Each scar a testament, each tear a verse,

In pain we grow, for better or worse.

When arms entwine, when blame recedes,

We find the strength our story needs.

Let’s sit, let’s speak, and dare to trust,

For love demands, not gold but dust.

If we desire to watch it bloom,

We must brave the storm, clear the gloom.

Are we ready for the storms we fear,

The bitter truths, the falling tear?

Love’s no fable, dressed in light,

It’s the daybreak and the night.

Through paths unknown, we’ll chart our course,

Through doubt, through hope, through pure remorse.

To find the peace, the dream reborn,

We stand together, weather-worn.

Take my hand, through torrents fierce,

Hearts as armor, words to pierce.

Nothing treasured comes with ease,

But it's worth the fight, through storm, through peace.

Are we ready, battle-bound,

For love that bends but stays profound?

Through every high and every low,

This love, our anchor, will only grow.

@raceyrhymes @samcrosfaith

@ladyeckland28 @solesofwonder

[the-unrestrained-poet]

You silenced me then- You can’t now, The silence speaks. My mouth Can’t utter it- That word. But my body? My body screams it- The world  Will forget you. But your crime? Everyone,  Will know.

-Teagan R. Nault

[jadeannbyrne]

Shel Silverstein: A Tribute to the Poet Who Coaxed Jade Ann Byrne Beyond the Sidewalk

Shel Silverstein: A Tribute to the Poet Who Coaxed Jade Ann Byrne Beyond the Sidewalk Shel Silverstein was a poet, cartoonist, musician, and author who left an indelible mark on the world of children’s literature and beyond. Born in 1930 in Chicago, Silverstein’s work was characterized by its unique blend of humor, whimsy, and a deep understanding of the human experience. He was a master of both…

[amanda-bayley-creates]

The spruce-fir forest rises to either side of me, the trees timeless in their guardianship, my glassy surface dividing them like silent sentries on their separate islands.

A shadow swiftly mars my aqua skin, deepening it to a bruised hue, before the Heron swoops away with his prize— a delicate trout plucked clean from my façade.

I follow myself head over heels, thrilled with the chase, rushing forward without a backward glance. I am liquid velvet, flowing in, out, and around myself.

I blissfully stroke the sandy surface below me, softly at first, then more forcefully, leaving indentations in my wake. Fingers of warmth from the golden sun above gently reach towards my icy depths.

A writhing mass of strokes and sighs, I rush, recklessly, towards an inevitable precipice.

I glide across each surface, savoring every flavor that joins my journey— the heady saltiness of loam and sand, and the protozoa’s subtle tang. The crispness of the air, they compete, yet complement each other.

At the final ledge, all doubt is abandoned. I fling myself forward, free and weightless in my fall. The scrape of jagged rocks contrasts sweetly with the delicate graze of foliage as I descend.

Unrestrained from my bed, I expand— bead and mist, floating in ecstasy even as gravity pulls me downward.

In a sudden explosion of sensations, I swallow myself, dipping and churning, crashing against myself— liquid skin on liquid skin, gliding and thrashing without direction.

Slowly, I begin to untangle, propelled forward, devolving into a crystalline pool of tranquility.

The gentle sigh of the wind echoes my bliss as I rest. Already, the desire to rush and fly consumes me. And I am off again.

[ryanranney]

Walk Alone

It does not encompass Kings this thing of comforts nor does compassion or understanding find its way towards them For they in whom is bestowed grace is grace given to give lest it is stored up vain While council and critic are brought always before the throne ne’er is a friend without a cause found in the hours of want Even so It is that the mighty do share in the abyss of earthly silence brought…

[annasanthology]

[samw3000]

Amen!

I am a diva with many successesBut frayedbecause I perfer not to lay down my edgesAndIf I were to be anyone elseI'd only want to beA better version of Me It took half a centuryOn this earthTo realize my worthI hope it doesn't take another fiftyfor You to recognize the worth in Me © 2024 Samantha Williams. All Rights Reserved.

[motherlanguageday]

Share poems or songs from their mother tongue or from a language they are learning.

This online event is being held to explain more about ‘Mother Tongue Other Tongue’, an annual free competition for young people aged from 8-18. The competition invites pupils to share poems or songs from their mother tongue or from a language they are learning.

This event is aimed at anyone wishing to run the project in their school or community setting. It will provide resources and ideas that can be used directly in classrooms, online or in groups.

IMLD 2024: MOTHER TONGUE OTHER TONGUE 2024 COMPETITION LAUNCH ONLINE CPD WEBINAR DATE: 27 February 2024 TIME: 6:00 pm to 7:45 pm AGES: All ages welcome PRICE: Free FORMAT: Online THEME: Languages ORGANISER: Manchester Poetry Library

BOOK TICKETS

[phoenxwright]

Taking a much needed rest with a new friend

[roseacademia]

*taps mic*

Hello, hello, yes. You can hear me now, I can hear you to, didn't lose my hearing, yet.

I'd like to present you one of my most favorite poems of mine. Purely fictional, precise and written with the help of AI. As you can see, the key words in a couple of verses start from the same letter. I gave chatgpt the word I wanted to put there and asked it to provide me a word that starts with, let's say, r for that.

It's a story of two people who fall in love with each other but they fall apart. Yes, that's all I'll provide here. There will be a poll on my page and you can vote if you'd like to know more.

Toodles! *disappears in sparkles*

[angies-writing-blog]

Trapped beneath his weight is your body, every muscle tensed, but against his raw strength, you stand no chance. Sun Wukong looms over you, his eyes glowing with a dark, unforgiving light that brooks no dissent.

As he holds you mercilessly, your breath comes in ragged gasps. His claws rake across your skin, carving deep lines that burn and bleed. First, a gentle scrape, then a sharp bite—you feel his teeth at your neck, sinking into your flesh, wanting to take a piece of you, to mark you as his forever.

With a force that shows no regard for restraint, he thrusts into you. You feel him cross every boundary, as if he's forgotten that you're made of flesh and blood, fragile in your humanity.

Each thrust is an unrelenting claim on you; his claws dig into your hips, pulling you harder against him. Your body trembles under the intensity, and though you want to resist, you find yourself helpless in his grip, caught between desire and fear. Meanwhile, his teeth are everywhere—nibbling, biting, tearing at your skin as though he intends to possess you completely, as if every fiber of your being is meant for him alone.

The heat of his breath, the sting of his touch, the sharp claws piercing you—all of it blends into a whirl from which there is no escape. You are his prey, and Wukong hunts you to the brink of your endurance. His deep moans merge with yours, a wild, animalistic sound that makes you believe he would continue even if all strength left your limbs.

Then, after a final, deep thrust, he collapses over you, his body trembling with unbridled power. You feel him come inside you, hot and unstoppable, an ultimate claim on you that embeds itself in every fiber of your being. His claws dig deeper into your skin as his breath crashes against your ear, a silent cry that speaks of all his passion and power. Finally, his arms wrap tightly around you, as if he'll never let you go, and with every deep breath, you feel him claim you forever.

[iambrillyant]

“there is magic in exactly where you are, regardless of what yesterday looked like, despite the mistakes that forced you to take steps back; the regrets of your past might delay you from reaching your destination, but nothing can ever stop you from reaching what is divinely yours.”

— billy chapata

[saturnvs]

am overcome with nostalgia and i must draw her

[vielesundnichts]

- r.h. Sin

[saintescuderia]

some thoughts on the beef...

now, i will preface this by the admission: i did my masters thesis on kendrick lamar.

so the bias runs deep. from the moment in 2013 when i first listened to bitch, don't kill my vibe and realised he'd perfectly encapsulated the idea of get your noise away from me, kendrick became a key figure for me. my entire adolescence was characterised by the releases of to pimp a butterfly and DAMN.

i was born and raised christian, but i only started to fully explore that after listening to faith.

i was born and raised in an egyptian household, but i only started to fully identify with what that means after complexion.

my highschool teacher once said to us that there will be no amount of growth in a time period unlike from your 18th to your 21st. and i can testify this. DAMN came out when i turned 18. mr morale and the big steppers came out after i finished being 21.

and, as always, kendrick knew what i needed. that a song about the lifelong affects of trauma and dealing with grief, with pain, with shame. i remember listening to mother i sober for the first time and bursting into tears on my bedroom floor because i never thought he would actually go where i needed him the most.

and now, we're here. that dr*ke is a pedophile. i won't censor that word, but i will censor his name. his artist name deserves no more respect. if anything, it should be that aubrey is a pedophile. and whilst these allegations still need to be proved to be true with evidence, i think it's worth noting something.

kendrick's suffered from the affects of abuse. why would he make light of it and throw them around so carelessly?

if anything, we've seen how nothing he does is careless. everything is so carefully thought out, so methodically thought out with even the most minute details being considered with the utmost deliberation.

aside from that, there's too much pain for that to be the case.

this could've been a good example of the sport. it's what it started out as. it's not worth going through all the subtle disses kendrick has dished out in his career. if anything, his pulitzer prize should be enough proof that a rap diss could remain as is; a rap diss.

but this wasn't a mere rap diss. this was mr morale in action and providing a real life example of the stories and themes he explores in his songs. the affects of unchecked corruption within the self. the affects of generational trauma and how the cycle continues - unless you stop and look in the mirror.

-- + -- + --

we should've known

how a son was finally shown

like the apple with the bruise

it's all coming loose

treat the world like your whore

only for it to reveal

your rotten core

(pls, seek him. heal.)

[beanhusk]

the doctor took donna's memories as she cried and begged him not to. she would rather die than forget. still, he robbed her of agency. he played god and betrayed her trust.

here he finds himself, lifetimes later, caught between saving a city and keeping her alive. what she wants is to give her life and save her family, save millions. why does it have to be this?

he listens this time. without argument, he returns what she lost. he honours her choice. and if she dies while he holds her, she dies remembering. smiling. the doctordonna forever.