• Love Sonnet LXXXV

    Yaraa, as the stars echo your
    name, I give you my heart
    (te doy mi corazon).
    There is no other way to

    say this, as time passes and
    you stare at my smile,
    see into my nature and
    intentions, that you have

    given me hope, have given
    me love, you have given
    me life. Yaraa, you are

    my peace (tu eras mi paz),
    and…Read More

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  • Shadow Haunting

    don’t look at her
    she’s not at her best just now
    it isn’t the disheveled hair
    or the worn out sweats she’s wearing
    but if you study her appearance
    you’ll see the struggle in her bearing

    in the way her eyes slide sideways
    a magnetic repulsion effect
    slipping away from any chance meeting
    guarded…
    there’s no safety…Read More

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    2 Comments
    • True enough, sometimes you just want to melt into the woodwork, disappear into the shadows, hide from the world or, perhaps someone particular. Someone who has hurt you. Then too, often it’s the opposite. The need to be seen, to be acknowledged as a human being. Not as an object or in a negative way, but seen for who you truely are, whole,…Read More

      • It’s such a dichotomy….needing to be seen but wanting to disappear. At times it’s simultaneous. We are such complicated creatures. Thank you, Curt

  • April 21st – The Corner Where the Wind Recites Salt

    April 21st is not before.
    It is not after.
    It is the day that stands sideways
    to the rest of the month,
    a hinge with no door,
    a moment that refuses
    to belong to time at all.

    It hovers.
    It waits.
    It breathes in a rhythm
    that does not match the world’s pulse.

    Around the c…Read More

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    2 Comments
    • PAR, the wind carries many poems of salt and yes, often they go unheard or undeeded, which is of course a shame,cause if they did find ears that hear, our world would be a more joyful place. But, what might be even worse is something that Bruce Springsteen wrote in a song (“Jungle Land”), “and the poets down here write nothing at all, they just…Read More

  • Some times

    There are times when things should be said
    Things should be done
    It is met with silence

    Then there are times things are done
    Without thought
    Automatically

    Sometimes things are said because it is felt
    Sometimes thing happen because it could not be held back

    But there is a sometimes

    That trust is broken
    A wound never…Read More

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    1 Comment
    • And it is times like this that you just want to SCREAM!!! Far too many people in our world bear wounds that never heal, ooze pain continually. Insightful poem, Fia. -Curt

  • Profile picture of Fia Naturie

    Fia Naturie wrote a new post

    Sometimes

    There are times when things should be said Things should be done It is met with silence   Then there are times things are done Without thought Automatically   Sometimes things are said because it is felt...  Sometimes thing happen because it could not be held back.   But there...

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    13 Comments
    • Powerfully penned, Fia. Excellent write with lots of layers my friend. Nicely done as always. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • Thank you Gus for keeping up with me. xoxo

    • Chère F.,
      Love it that you post more often.
      And I read all of them.

      My favorite sentence in this poem is:

      Sometimes thing happen because it could not be held back

      Wish I had thought of that. It tells me that I can’t possibly control everything. A comforting thought!

      I hope your Tuesday will be happy and full of inspiration.
      Warm greetings, Gus

    • hello beautiful Fia this is a profound write ❤️

    • Outstanding piece. Well said!

    • No way! You gotta have hope always!
      Old story: There were two boys, one was a pessimist and the other an optimist. They were both put in a barn full of horse crap for a day. At the end of the day, the old man opened the door to see how the boys were doing. The pessimist was far back in the corner, on his tiptoes, complaining about all the shit and the smell. While the optimist was crouched down, frantically flinging the horse crap all over the place. The man asked that boy what was he doing. The boy said “With all this fresh horse shit, there’s gotta be a pony in here somewhere!
      But anyway, your write is on point with many of the days for us all. An accurate description of the struggle for basic sanity, at least!

      • That was funny. I am hopeful. My poems come to me from listening to music, news etc.. then I start musing over things. Thank you Styxian;))

    • That’s cool. I actually get much of my motivation from reading. it’s the words tumbling around in my head that create little scenarios that I build from. A lot! Music sets a mood, though, yes. Can’t live without it!

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