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CarolineSD Apr 2022
Every bend of a mountain stream
Has an inlet somewhere,
A little warm corner where the
Currents churn slow
And soft
Across the water worn rocks.

And notice how the river's things
Quick darting fish and splintered
Sticks all come to rest
For a moment in the rhythm of this Gently swirling space
That gives freely of her embrace
Before everything goes drifting on and
On to where it is supposed to go
Waterways to the raging sea
And beyond.

And I am an inlet.

I do not know how to turn cold and
Resist each time
Love comes close.
No, I reach out to gather and to hold.

But yet, it is always only passing
Through and like the gentle bend of a Mountain river, I must let go.

So it is
Every time
I find myself alone.

Sitting by the banks of a
Rushing river
Listening to the whisper of the water That sounds like

Ghosts.
Everyone I know goes away
In the end.
-Johnnie Cash
CarolineSD Jun 2020
The great arms of the cottonwoods release fragments of
Themselves across the evening sky,
As if the edges of clouds could
Lift from the flutter of leaves
And drift out and away,
As if giving up fragments of oneself
Is soft and easy,
Like the bend of the river
Around the greening banks
On a gentle summer day.

Like giving up is not brutal
Or bones cracked on the cold tile of the
Bathroom floor
When you can’t even do this anymore
And there are tears laid around you like bright
Flowers of pain
Spilled and wilted and dried up again
And you curl into yourself
And simply wait for
The end.

There is a giving up in that roughness and there is a giving up in
The radiance of the sun
Emanating from the warm rocks at the edge of the cliffs,
Lifted off the backs of the verdant hills,
And there is a giving up that is a gift
And not an acquiescence.

And thus it is,
Like the river’s edge,
I give up this familiar space
To the flooding of the rains;

Take the banks of all I know
And allow their swift erosion
Down to the vulnerability
Of my soul.

I give up the strongholds
Of dread
And cast these crafted layers to the edges of the stars

And I won’t give up the openness of my heart,

Or the way I can see so far
Across this wild, limitless wilderness
Of hope,

Or how it grows
Within the shelter of your hands.
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?
Well, I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdN5GyTl8K0
IncholPoem Jan 2019
My  led
sprained
suddenly.



Doctor  came
but  could  not
cure  that.



My  eyes  became
sprained  by
my  hand

while   reading   the
  blogs  on  computer.


My stomach  became
sprained  by
hungriness  after
releasing  from
jail.
Jack Jenkins Jun 2016
A summer solace wind storm,
Blowing against my face, ripping against my clothes,
Out here, on the edge, thinking of you,
Imagining your face, in this abyss trying to swallow me.

It creeps against me, holding me to the ground,
I didn't want to move anyway.
But the shards of rain and ice pelting my skin,
Causes pain, causes me to tear up.

I hold your memories in my arms,
I hold your gentleness in my breath,
One last time, I hold you close to me,
Then I let you go.
Mystic Hunter Jul 2015
My style says a lot about my personality,
I agree.
I love sweaters,
long sleeves.

They comfort me when the cold has no mercy on my skinny arms.
They cover up the cuts both you and I made.
It's also closed and fully covered,
like me.

Sometimes I admit it gets warm so sleeves had to be rolled up,
but then a new part of me is exposed
parts of me that I love but you don't.
So at times I take the heat,
not risking being bad
but just because you don't like it doesn't make it bad
so why then do you scold me!

"We live in a warm country so sweaters aren't seen often"
you always use the weather as an excuse for me to take off my sweaters
then make scrapes on my exposed arms.
but now it's going to take more than just the weather to stop me from wearing sweaters.

Yes, I do intend on managing what I wear
All those times you thought  wasn't listening, I heard you!
I promise you, in time I'll take it off;
but not before I heal.
The best way to deal with pain is to learn from it and grow rather than holding it all in
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