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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    melancholy

    dreamy thoughts with visions of sadnesswatching her before medancing in the wind wild hair flowingwith delicate shades of blue she exudesgentle with my feelingsshe comes to visit oftentender girl with a soft voicemelanchly haunt a little slip of a...

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    4 Comments
    • Broken childhoods can still turn into beautiful things. The Japanese call it the art of kintsugi 🌼

      • hello dearest Joe yes they can I don’t feel sadness is my enemy but teacher thank you for the lovely comment 💕

    • Powerfully penned, Brenda. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Rodney Vol Lindsey
    @volwizardmsn-com
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    Fia Naturie wrote a new post

    Poetry Is...

    What I can't understand is how poetry falls into my hand like glittering stars in the sky. I picked one I can't lie. The pull it has over me to give it to all of you. You say I've given so many away I Hoping that...

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    • I hear you beautiful Fia people take them too seriously which hinders our creativity as it just flows I went through an anger period when I was going through a tough time and lost a lot of followers because of it peace to you lady let it come as it will 💕

    • Its a gift to be able to express feeling with words..I’m glad you have the gift 🌼

    • Words have serious magical power….that’s why we call it SPELLING. I’m sure you’ve that one before, but it’s true. Where do thoughts and inspiration come from? Poetry is the great filter. Use responsibly.

    • Cleverly penned, Fia. I always enjoy your musings. Phenomenal write, cuz. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • I think of my poetry as not by me. It’s by little ghost in my ear nagging me till I write their words down hehe. Wonderful ink, friend.

    • I can’t even count the emotions I’ve given ink to. Without poetry…I have no voice. Without a voice…we fade. Very nice

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    Ghosteen wrote a new post

    Windmills

    Above the star ceiling  there is an attic which houses   secrets and undeclared love,  decades of wreaths and erections  who told Sinatra to stop singing?    In moon river dreams, my limbs drifted   from pillow to ache within the attic    A heavy breeze from...

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    6 Comments
    • Clever word play. I especially like the transition:

      “In moon river dreams, my limbs drifted
      from pillow to ache within the attic”

      Excellent write.

    • Thank you Joe. Isn’t it beautiful how music connects the world? Were all looking at the same moon river

    • What a well done, strong write. Poetry is so broad, so I look for what moves me, and makes me nod, with approval.
      This succeeds quite well.

      • Appreciate the continued support Styx. I just enjoy grappling with words and metaphors.

    • Cleverly penned, Ghosteen. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Detritus and Profile picture of TimTim are now friends

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    Tim
    @tim-blood
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