saplingn - Hello Poetry

As I awake, my lids bloom open like flowers, like irises, and pupils like mini planets. I have universal vision! I stretch, arms extended to either side of my body, and I softly exhale love. A oneness of breath, oneness of heartbeat, all synchronised and the same. I run to the sphere, we know so well: its greens and blues, and embrace it.

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Feb 21, 2021

Feb 21, 2021 at 9:34 AM UTC

World Embracing

As I awake, my lids bloom open like flowers, like irises, and pupils like mini planets. I have universal vision! I stretch, arms extended to either side of my body, and I softly exhale love. A oneness of breath, oneness of heartbeat, all synchronised and the same. I run to the sphere, we know so well: its greens and blues, and embrace it.

15

This is December, Seeing one’s breath in the mist In the midst of conversation. Snow may blanket paths covering crispy leaves, feet Crunching on them with each step. A fire may seek The roast of marshmallows And the oven, an abundance of roast veg. Hugged tight by coats and Scarves, and loved ones Whilst ink darkness blotches the sky by early evening. This is December, A frosty cold permeates the outside, But a loving closeness permeates inside.

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Dec 6, 2020

Dec 6, 2020 at 4:57 PM UTC

Winter Stanzas

This is December, Seeing one’s breath in the mist In the midst of conversation. Snow may blanket paths covering crispy leaves, feet Crunching on them with each step. A fire may seek The roast of marshmallows And the oven, an abundance of roast veg. Hugged tight by coats and Scarves, and loved ones Whilst ink darkness blotches the sky by early evening. This is December, A frosty cold permeates the outside, But a loving closeness permeates inside.

15

Sometimes love forces us to create. Other moments in love, we're obliged to live. How much can you rely on fate? Who does that leave you with? I used to find my mind was a star shooting poetic verse at speeds that led it afar, across the entire universe. Today, I am uninspired to write a poem What even is poetry without love, I'm questioning why I'm not as inspired as I used to be. Now it's one, it used to be some. Love is blind and now, I cannot see.

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Nov 20, 2020

Nov 20, 2020 at 3:49 PM UTC

'Why I'm uninspired to write a poem...' sonnet

Sometimes love forces us to create. Other moments in love, we're obliged to live. How much can you rely on fate? Who does that leave you with? I used to find my mind was a star shooting poetic verse at speeds that led it afar, across the entire universe. Today, I am uninspired to write a poem What even is poetry without love, I'm questioning why I'm not as inspired as I used to be. Now it's one, it used to be some. Love is blind and now, I cannot see.

14

Superposition amongst two worlds Collision of chemistry, biology and physics An addition of yin and yang Spirituality A oneness only a minority craves An amalgamation of black and brown Asian strings African drums Mud and Coal Is that not what makes up our world? Not trees with leaves of green dollars Our pain contributes to our art

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Nov 8, 2020

Nov 8, 2020 at 11:18 AM UTC

Superposition Synaesthesia

Superposition amongst two worlds Collision of chemistry, biology and physics An addition of yin and yang Spirituality A oneness only a minority craves An amalgamation of black and brown Asian strings African drums Mud and Coal Is that not what makes up our world? Not trees with leaves of green dollars Our pain contributes to our art

13

A blue bicycle along some leaves bright and sunny coloured crunching along the grey path, a duller tone. It is autumn fall as life leaves. It returns to us, however, as nature's boomerang: as the sky cries, as the wind sang. What is love, if not a sudden onset fever? Our vision becomes clouded like the morning fog, tears fall and rosy cheeks become crowded. An incontrollable sobbing, at rock bottom until we reach that point shrouded beneath the soil, becoming one with autumn.

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Nov 8, 2020

Nov 8, 2020 at 10:54 AM UTC

Autumn Sonnet

A blue bicycle along some leaves bright and sunny coloured crunching along the grey path, a duller tone. It is autumn fall as life leaves. It returns to us, however, as nature's boomerang: as the sky cries, as the wind sang. What is love, if not a sudden onset fever? Our vision becomes clouded like the morning fog, tears fall and rosy cheeks become crowded. An incontrollable sobbing, at rock bottom until we reach that point shrouded beneath the soil, becoming one with autumn.

14

The longing to receive feelings, the canvas craved a mishmash of personality and purple anxiety. Prime colours meeting new tones smudged over palm and fingernails. Back and forth from the murky water, brushing intimate with the whiteness, forging a new two-dimensional genesis. The face became asymmetrical of a female ethereal figure surrounded by deep green, full-of-life leaves. The purple surrounded her, consuming her growth and trying to contain it. It became the backdrop for her life. This spiralling out-of-control thoughtlessness this, in fact, deep rumination and self-destruction. Sat painting for hours... Paint all over hands, clothes, and sofa... The backdrop of her life... The backdrop of my life...

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Sep 21, 2020

Sep 21, 2020 at 6:55 PM UTC

The Story of Painting

The longing to receive feelings, the canvas craved a mishmash of personality and purple anxiety. Prime colours meeting new tones smudged over palm and fingernails. Back and forth from the murky water, brushing intimate with the whiteness, forging a new two-dimensional genesis. The face became asymmetrical of a female ethereal figure surrounded by deep green, full-of-life leaves. The purple surrounded her, consuming her growth and trying to contain it. It became the backdrop for her life. This spiralling out-of-control thoughtlessness this, in fact, deep rumination and self-destruction. Sat painting for hours... Paint all over hands, clothes, and sofa... The backdrop of her life... The backdrop of my life...

19

Look how the trees Are bullied by the wind But they still stand tall and firm

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Aug 25, 2020

Aug 25, 2020 at 9:43 AM UTC

Something to Learn from Trees

Look how the trees Are bullied by the wind But they still stand tall and firm

3

My eyes were closed shut As I awoke I smoked a metaphorical **** of a Spike Lee Joint I interpreted the depths of meaning Scary reality The errors of humanity In the form of a feature film Portrayal after portrayal Non-minstrel, realistic black lives Race-relation vibes A voice for the underrepresented Lee makes you want to use your voice For the betterment of the world Development of how we want our history to unfurl Black lives matter still

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Aug 3, 2020

Aug 3, 2020 at 5:35 PM UTC

A Spike Lee Joint

My eyes were closed shut As I awoke I smoked a metaphorical **** of a Spike Lee Joint I interpreted the depths of meaning Scary reality The errors of humanity In the form of a feature film Portrayal after portrayal Non-minstrel, realistic black lives Race-relation vibes A voice for the underrepresented Lee makes you want to use your voice For the betterment of the world Development of how we want our history to unfurl Black lives matter still

16

If I pour the entirety of self into a poem Does it give the poem an ego? If I pour nothing into it Does it mean it's superficial?

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Jul 3, 2020

Jul 3, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC

The Poem's Ego

If I pour the entirety of self into a poem Does it give the poem an ego? If I pour nothing into it Does it mean it's superficial?

4

The invisibility is suffocating It's a tight mask or a dark smog floating around Forcibly bound and stuck to the ground How can one be down to earth when the nettles are stinging? Love was supposed to create visibility To show everything To stop the quiet speaking and let thoughts loudly sing To make comfortable the feelings of vulnerability The heart knows And every time it remembers it falls into bits Hitting the floor, experiencing the blows I wanted to be your visible, I want to be a piece that fits Nothing of your life shows That I am in it, that I am in it...

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Jul 3, 2020

Jul 3, 2020 at 5:57 AM UTC

Love Sonnet on Visibility

The invisibility is suffocating It's a tight mask or a dark smog floating around Forcibly bound and stuck to the ground How can one be down to earth when the nettles are stinging? Love was supposed to create visibility To show everything To stop the quiet speaking and let thoughts loudly sing To make comfortable the feelings of vulnerability The heart knows And every time it remembers it falls into bits Hitting the floor, experiencing the blows I wanted to be your visible, I want to be a piece that fits Nothing of your life shows That I am in it, that I am in it...

14