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Al Ashcott and
redbrick Keshner are now friends
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Fia Naturie posted in the group National Poetry Month
She turns 30
Wake up to a face
Your face
The current face
Not the face you rememberMemory can distort reality
Reality is a bucket of ice water
Even the eyes change
Once showed hope is now resignedTruth is
It is not the face that is disheartening
It is the day
That states you are no longer spring flower but an autumn…Read More -
Fia Naturie wrote a new post
10 Comments-
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This is a great write.
The reality is we all age. It’s not so bad.
But realizing that comes with wisdom and learning to embrace the life you’ve lived and where you are mentally.
I’m happy at 51. You couldn’t pay me to be in my thirties.
Hell no. Hahaha -
Powerfully penned, Fia. Excellent write that we can all relate to my friend. I’m happy where I am, don’t wanna go back in time. lol. Nicely done. Appreciate you, Cuz.
Damian
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You have touched upon a very important topic with your beautiful and meaningful poem, dear Fià. Unfortunately, our Western society is obsessed with a cult of youth. In other cultures, by contrast, older people are more likely to be associated with wisdom and life experience. Fortunately, the ‘army’ of women who are not buying into this youth cult based on outward appearances is growing larger and larger. We only age in years, but we mature in terms of our life experience and our wisdom; our faces reflect the beauty of a life well-lived.
Here’s to us older women! -
My sister casually announces she’s fat from time to time and she’s smaller than me. Throws the brain when someone declares themselves to be in a deficit but they still have more than you. I find it funny that I’m actually more content with my aging than I was in my youth. Guess it’s what we take from the life we live. Good write, Fia
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Damian DeadLove and
Angel Louise are now friends
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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
12th in Emptiness, Oblivion, and the Breeze That Knows Too Much
April 12th rises
like a hollow bowl.
A day carved out of absence,
light as a rib,
quiet as a room
after everyone has left
but the air still remembers
their names.This is the day of emptiness
not the cruel kind,
not the collapsing void,
but the soft, spacious…Read More3 Comments - Load More Posts
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hello beautiful Fia I’m glad I no longer get gazes I wrote a poem about that I’m waiting to post it…it’s titled invisible…I don’t feel old even though I’m fifty six and the world wants to tell me I’m old…no she is not old just no longer a teen… great write ❤️