micawood - Hello Poetry

The smoke filled air Burns my throat. Ash fell like snow last night. Yet here I sit Outdoors Filling my lungs With smoke of another kind. As without, So within my blackening lungs.

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Sep 8, 2025

Sep 8, 2025 at 12:11 AM UTC

Gray Skies and Cheap Highs

The smoke filled air Burns my throat. Ash fell like snow last night. Yet here I sit Outdoors Filling my lungs With smoke of another kind. As without, So within my blackening lungs.

9

A boy frolics in a field of forget-me-nots to the song in his heart. Spinning, spinning, spinning… until he falls in love with the music. Rolling down hills to rolling up joints and picking up a guitar. The music crescendos… His life has just begun. The guitar is played daily. Sitting on the front stoop, amplifier plugged in— a concert for the block. Time continues to tick. Life is getting hard. The guitar is forsaken just when he needs it most. Making music no longer, he turns to substance. Spinning, spinning, spinning out of control. He needs the pain to go away. Needles at night and sleep by day. The man is tired and lonely as the endless darkness inside him. When the veil between worlds is thinnest the man slips away and finally he finds his peace.

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Apr 16, 2025

Apr 16, 2025 at 10:40 PM UTC

Forsaken Guitar

A boy frolics in a field of forget-me-nots to the song in his heart. Spinning, spinning, spinning… until he falls in love with the music. Rolling down hills to rolling up joints and picking up a guitar. The music crescendos… His life has just begun. The guitar is played daily. Sitting on the front stoop, amplifier plugged in— a concert for the block. Time continues to tick. Life is getting hard. The guitar is forsaken just when he needs it most. Making music no longer, he turns to substance. Spinning, spinning, spinning out of control. He needs the pain to go away. Needles at night and sleep by day. The man is tired and lonely as the endless darkness inside him. When the veil between worlds is thinnest the man slips away and finally he finds his peace.

32

One fifth of my day was spent on precalculus. I want to die now.

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Feb 28, 2025

Feb 28, 2025 at 12:07 AM UTC

Precalc

One fifth of my day was spent on precalculus. I want to die now.

3

Waves of euphoria and waves of sadness wash over me— Each in its turn. I want to sing you my sadness, and I want you to share in my euphoria. Could the song of my silent tears reach your heart? Or will they water the greenery growing through my dying soul?

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Feb 19, 2025

Feb 19, 2025 at 7:33 PM UTC

Euphoric Sadness

Waves of euphoria and waves of sadness wash over me— Each in its turn. I want to sing you my sadness, and I want you to share in my euphoria. Could the song of my silent tears reach your heart? Or will they water the greenery growing through my dying soul?

15

Quiet your mind and you may find peace in such stillness. Your life feels like chaos when the music drowns out any possibility of silence inside. How can you even think with lyrics of mesmerizing dandelions clanging through your consciousness? From the left and right distractions dissect your attention. Why is it so hard to turn off the music? Silence is scary— a frightening thing to befriend. Some fear the dark, yet you fear the quiet.

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Feb 17, 2025

Feb 17, 2025 at 7:30 PM UTC

Frightening Friend

Quiet your mind and you may find peace in such stillness. Your life feels like chaos when the music drowns out any possibility of silence inside. How can you even think with lyrics of mesmerizing dandelions clanging through your consciousness? From the left and right distractions dissect your attention. Why is it so hard to turn off the music? Silence is scary— a frightening thing to befriend. Some fear the dark, yet you fear the quiet.

16

Poison in my veins Thoughts I cannot shake away Slowly I’m fading

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Feb 13, 2025

Feb 13, 2025 at 12:16 PM UTC

Poison

Poison in my veins Thoughts I cannot shake away Slowly I’m fading

3

A knot work spell is an easy way To breathe magic into macrame. An anchor knot for an aid so I don’t drop my braid. I try to tie well, for each knot is a spell I don’t want to unravel. Carefully binding to seal in my intentions. A mantra, repeated with each loop. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

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Feb 10, 2025

Feb 10, 2025 at 9:16 PM UTC

Knot Spell

A knot work spell is an easy way To breathe magic into macrame. An anchor knot for an aid so I don’t drop my braid. I try to tie well, for each knot is a spell I don’t want to unravel. Carefully binding to seal in my intentions. A mantra, repeated with each loop. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

13

Sweet bitterness is Coffee with sugar, no cream And my love for you.

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Feb 9, 2025

Feb 9, 2025 at 8:15 PM UTC

Sweet Bitterness

Sweet bitterness is Coffee with sugar, no cream And my love for you.

3

Interwoven words Perpetual poetry Singing to my senses

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Feb 9, 2025

Feb 9, 2025 at 4:22 PM UTC

Poetry Weave

Interwoven words Perpetual poetry Singing to my senses

3

Evanescent ghosts share sad, glass secrets… Beauty is transient and eternity is dark. Born and broken; yet we laugh— Celebrating these sacred, porcelain selves.

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Feb 9, 2025

Feb 9, 2025 at 10:52 AM UTC

Ephemeral

Evanescent ghosts share sad, glass secrets… Beauty is transient and eternity is dark. Born and broken; yet we laugh— Celebrating these sacred, porcelain selves.

8