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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    of shadow and shade

    my mortality before me I prepare an offeringcataloging and willingly admitting my sinheld tight to the dark artist of my soul, there is conflictwith aspirations to the light I am betwixt two worldsand I can't reconcilemy spirit is shaded...

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

      Damian

    • Hoi Chère C.,

      If I may quote you:
      in my slumberous state I cause chaos

      Don’t we all?
      I embrace the thought in real life.
      There’s nothing more tedious or boring than perfection.

      So:
      in my slumberous state I cause chaos
      Is the cherry on the cake.
      Just my opinion.

      À lovely write!
      Kind regards, Gus

      • hello dearest Gus thank you I likef that line too…I cherish your thoughts you are always positibe and I appreciate that ❤️

    • Fantastic spill, my friend! May Arawn hear your darksome call and be your lantern into Annwfn. Not just yet though, we need more of your beautiful melancholy. Excellent poem as always.

      Clay

    • There is NO SIN in being a woman, none. If there is SIN, it is brought about by the burdens placed on women in a male dominated, patriarchal system and society. It’s a strange evolutionary process that a biological difference (having babies) became the source of oppression.

      While I applaud the artistic value of this poem, its sadness, its flow, and metaphor, I am also torn in that there should be no sacrifice made. Instead, there should be a head held high acceptance of the chaos, of celebrating joining the chaos made by all of us as human beings, and we are a chaotic bunch.

      Crimsin, I hope I have not trampled all over your poem’s garden, it’s just that women are not evil or gods, just human. And certainly not for sacrifice.

      Curt

      • hello dearest Curt good afternoon I get what you’re saying but my sin is more memories and reflection on days passed things I have done and regret I try to reconile them in me but they stilll make sad they are coming more ofteh these days and I’m not doing well it seems my soul is aware that my time grows short… I deeply appreciate your beautiful comment ❤️

  • ~———————————•§•———————————~

    SESSION THREE
    Wednesday, November 5th, 2025
    This session (by request) will be on the Japanese Haiku form.

    Haiku 俳句
    (by Western rules)

    An unrhymed Japanese poetic form recording or expressing the essence of a moment, that at fist blush might appear to be quite simple, yet is far from it. Still, it is far l…Read More

  • Profile picture of Crimsin

    Crimsin wrote a new post

    desire

    desire in a moment as feelings growtiming ultimate in the darknessas your hand touches minedeeply intimate as fingers caress meelecticity lights my womanly phantomdesirous of you and you knowflesh flushes and my face blushesintensity in a glancestaring into your...

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    8 Comments
    • Chère C.,
      What a beautiful write!
      Love it that you wrote it.
      Love it even more that you’ve posted it.
      I tried to single out which sentence drew me in.
      But I can’t.
      I’ll read it again tomorrow.
      Until then….

      Kind regards, Gus

    • “Sanctuary in a smile”. After the “lust’ settles and there is just the warmth holding each other, it is the “smile” that says everything and how you can stay in that moment forever. It’s that smile that tells you you are home; where the momentary “lust” becomes more.

      I enjoyed reading your poem Crimsin.

      Curt

      • hello dearest Kurt I’m happy that line spoke to your heart and I love what you took from this…it is a beautiful feelimg thank you graciously for such a lovely commen❤️t

    • We love seeing you write of love, yes dark love is great love. Tight

    • Passionately penned, Brenda. What a lovely write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    bleak exit

    dwindles the eve as the day dies shortwinter weeps for no oneshiver in its cold embracecynical fact sarcastic lamentthere are few things I like lessthen a grey unforgiving daytormented wonder my delusions of granduerseeking the Gods of yesterdayto amuse...

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    6 Comments
    • well this is quite grand. It’s like you were fighting the urge of feeling overwhelmed. So you wrote out an incantation to ward off the bad spirits? You slayed it!
      Really interesting write, Crims. Very much so.

      • good evening dearest Styxian thank you graciously these are just feelings and fears I try to always write in a current mindset I’m happy it worked for you have a beautiful Evening ❤️

    • Oh! This is good, Brenda. Right up my alley.

      • hello dearest Adagio thank you graciously it’s so funny to me it happens to us a lot and I swear I didn’t even peak at your poem till after ❤️have a great day…

    • sometimes, even the sun cannot help when a “cynical fact sarcastic lament” is involved, but becomes magnified when the day is grey. and sometimes there are only vague answers to our ceaseless whys, and yet we cannot help but ask for them. Ironic isn’t it? we are born, we live, we die, and in between these events, there is only the moment and what we do with each one of them. Did we only exist? Or did we make a difference?

      Thanks for your poem, Crimsin. I enjoyed reading it and where it led me.

      Curt

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

      Damian

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    Styxian wrote a new post

    This Garden...

    This Garden Lilacs in odor, to recall the perfumeof maiden's amore, in her casting roomVelvet and violet, tender but todayfor each casts its memory away. Roses thick, with pink and blush-a just kissed cheek, the stolen rushWhen courage meant to quickly stealthis budding flower, and grant it, real. Tulips tipping, to the dew, please satethis thirst begins, if passion wanesAnd drunkards, we, crushing vinessucking our fingers, of green-grape wines. It's a natural thing for meThis garden, I grow for thee. And all encompassed, by a forested gateto frustrate all, that dare penetrateHidden, but very proudly, minethat reaps, that grows, that shines. And to toil tirelessly, just to comparethis golden evening, and your raven hairThis soil I turn; A bed tucked inrecalling how your arms held me then. These blooms that lift their hopes to the sunjust like I did, once we were oneAnd upon your chest, in red, blushedare pink roses, two, both full-flushed. How I clamored, over sudden flowersfrom sun to moon, became fertile hoursTo think I'd ever walk away, this fieldthis earth, this Eden, this ever-real. A tulip, one, and the dew satisfieda craving far greater, so intensifiedIt held its head up and spoke of Springand how sudden it comes, once winter flees. And in this forest, prepared to standthis stead garden, this fertile landI prepare the fruits, of thy hunger's needto fill the basket, with resulting seed. It's a natural thing for meThis garden, I grow for thee. ~~~

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    • hello dearest Styxian this is very beautiful, sensual and romantic…I have a garden dream to I always picture wisdom is there walking through the garden having philospohical conversations with Eve it is a curious thing… this is beautifully written and your metaphors are just right to evoke deep feeling ❤️

    • Hey Crims! I’ve edited this one so many times, trying to get the rhymes and meter tight. I’m not much into this type anymore, but it’s good practice for my ol’ brain. LOL
      Thanks for letting me know that the effort paid off!

    • I love this. The rhyming is sooo good!
      Dare I say perfect, yes I think I will.
      I think about your back yard and all the hibiscus 🌺 back there.
      This isn’t too far fetched 🙂

      Love it and you!

      • Well my love, no flower compares to you!
        Don’t forget the monster bougainvillea! (yes, i had to look up that spelling, LOL). It’s taking over the yard! Wanna come play gardener with me?

    • Beautifully penned, Mark. A very passionate write indeed my friend. Excellent work as always. Appreciate you.

      Damian

      • Hello Sir Damian!
        I don’t write many rhyme/meter poems much. It’s hard for me to get deep into my feels if I do. Freestyle is my obvious choice, because I can detail them better. But any rate, I do attempt to test some creative builds like this from time to time. And no, no AI assist either. (Seems many do lean on AI nowadays).
        Anyway, thanks dude. I enjoy your dropping by’s !

    • Look at you going all rhymey! This is so lovely, well done.
      ❤️k

      • Hey you!
        This was a major task to write! And several edits to get it to where I’m satisfied with it. I’m proud of it for the effort verses the result it took. So when I get any acknowledgement for it, I can breathe a sigh of relief! Thank you!

    • This has such a ye olde sonnet vibe to it. It flows and builds great imagery. Trying to write in a rhyming fashion fractures my brain. Well done!

    • Trust me, it wrecked my brain big time! I hacked at it quite alot. I actually had some more “ye olde sonnet” type words in it, but took them out because I didn’t want it to seem pretentious. If that makes sense. I also doubt that I can ever write one quite as solid as this one, as far as the build of it. again. Maybe if I break out the old pencil and paper, so I can erase a hundred times. LOL. (I still write on paper sometimes, because it holds a unique touch to me.
      Good to see you Willow. Hope you are well and enjoying life!

    • I’m not used to seeing rhymes from you so this was a pleasant surprise. Your poems are always a pleasure to read. Great job here, this to me is a dedication poem and one well written.

    • Hello Tim. I started out as a rhyming kid. LOL. But as I got older and read more contemporary material, it changed my preferences. It was more in tune with my “feelings”.
      But, I have a few attempts here and there, to stay mentally sharp I suppose. So I appreciate the nod for my result. these ain’t easy for me. If for anyone.

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