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NAVINA posted in the group National Poetry Month
THE STORM’S EYES
Tornado you seek
The darkness
I feel weak ..
The skies in complete blackness
Your power I’ll see all week.Clouds move like spilled ink
On a grey canvas
That I left to streak
Brushing with slugs
As an artist, you can’t peek.My art smears as the storm claims
Bold dark colors
Watch how it fades
I’m happy…Read More -
Paula Jobi wrote a new post
3 Comments -
Curly Grace posted in the group National Poetry Month
The Tenth Muse Speaks: Whispers Across Lesbos
She walks on the edge of the wind,
voice braided with sea and olive,
each syllable a spark struck
from the tinder of longing.Island-born, where the waves fold
like a lover’s arm,
she counts the pulses of hearts
as though each beat were a star.You burn me
my limbs betray m…Read More2 Comments-
Curly Grace, what a great opening line: “She walks on the edge of the wind”. While I enjoyed reading the entirety of your poem, that last verse will be remembered by me. Poets, poetry, should never be “contained” or constrained. -Curt
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Fia Naturie wrote a new post
13 Comments-
I like steak well done, but the current steak situation…inedible, unpalatable and unacceptable. Perfectly executed
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We as a nation have had tough times in the past, but I can totally understand your sentiments. Everyone is getting on the same wavelength. We all know things aren’t going good. There are many factors involved to.
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For a moment we was like this is a fed up person, then this person has been flocked, nothing but sheep. Tight
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Fia Naturie posted in the group National Poetry Month
Conditioned
Back aches
Feet throbs
Vision strain
Headache driving one insaneWe came up with the saying “the tough get it done”
I’m done…
We as a society, on the whole
Are charcoaled steak
Extra well, with no tenderness in sight4 Comments-
It does feel that way, done, charcoaled. But after last Saturday, I saw hope for many reasons beyond the numbers. But it will take more than a one and done approach. It will take sustained resistance, nonviolent activity, a refusal to obey the flames of abuse, and in our millions to stop the “grilling”.
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Your poem rings so true, Fia,. Let’s hope that, one day, Society rediscovers tenderness, love, and caring about each other rather than all the squalid hatred, the foul judgement that has no place.
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Im so sorry to hear you’re going through all of that. You want you write horror go ahead. There are a few people on here that love it.