• Profile picture of Atticus Abbey

    Atticus Abbey wrote a new post

    Soft Willow Bends

    Soft willow bends to trace the river's seam,unraveling the path where currents glide.Two wings descend—a flash of cobalt blue—to stitch the water drawing silver through.Dark silk, while willow secrets softly weep,as cobalt wings ascend towards the sun,Leaving the willow...

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    Atticus Abbey wrote a new post

    Ancient An' Old

     Sun-weary painter done bleed 'is las' paint, Pour purple an' rose-gold pon Attic sky.Twilight seep deep, cool an' sweet like a saint,Dem ol' window bones drink light, never dry.Inside dat hollow temple, stone gone cold,Sunset catch fire where no glass...

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  • Profile picture of Crimsin

    Crimsin wrote a new post

    kiss

    slick with thoughtsfeeling my touchstonemy mind focuses and yes it's you coming in cleara strange mixture of desire and disgustan appealing witchseducing you with versesthey entertain your darknessyour words pique my interest compelling me to respondbut your ardor is...

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  • Profile picture of Damian DeadLove
    Metaphor

    cracks in the foundationa skeleton of a structurehumanity under sedationtarnished blood no cureone more lost servantpreaching Jesus savesin these times so urgentwe're all their slaves do you believein something you've never seenwhy can't you conceivea metaphor so serene the body is...

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    8 Comments
    • The interesting thing about this one to me, is that there are people who call themselves “of faith” and use the rhetoric but don’t walk the walk. I was reminded of so many of those people…especially in the current atmosphere of the world…they speak without real understanding and definitely no faith. As a man of faith now, I imagine you recognize the difference. As one who hadn’t come to that place yet, I’m not surprised you still called it out. You always take me somewhere with your pieces…often on a rant. This one is no exception, my friend

      • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Willow. So glad you connected with the write my friend. The phrase has been bastardized for sure, by those who choose to use it for personal gain, whether it be financial or merely for social status. Some treat it like it’s something that looks good on their Resume. Yeah, I see the difference for sure. lol. The younger me would have never thought I’d arrive at this conclusion. I’ve always called things out, somethings are a constant in my life I guess. Thanks for the killer commentary. Appreciate you.

        Damian

    • Powerful work. You nailed it.

    • As someone who lived under violence of many types for years, l can understand your intense words and feelings, for me I couldn’t lose my Faith at any circumstances, my belief is that the humans must believe in something( I’m not speaking only religiously) so they can move on in life without being completely lost.

      “the body is a temple
      and we all abuse it”

      I was touched by these lines, many many times we are not treating ourselves kindly. This poem is touching. Thank You my friend 💖

      • Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Light. So glad you connected with the lyrics my friend. That was deep my friend, but beautifully stated. I agree without faith of any sort (not limited only to religion) humans easily become completely lost. Sorry you had to go through violence my friend, you’re a survivor and a gifted poetess whose words burn brightly with positive energy.

        That’s one of my favorites lines as well. I concur we don’t always treat ourselves kindly. I’m glad you enjoyed the write. Appreciate you.

        Damian

        • And Thank You for your heartfelt and positive response 🤍 I’m glad You could find your way out and started a new journey where there is peace and comfort, may your days be filled with joy and Light💕😊 🕊️🙏🏻

  • Profile picture of Atticus Abbey

    Atticus Abbey wrote a new post

    Indifferent Artifacts

    The air was not merely cold; it was saturated, a sodden, suffocating weight pressed down by the starless night. It hung thick with the scent of damp earth and decay—not the wholesome, fungal rot of a forest floor, but...

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