sean-fitzpatrick - Hello Poetry

There is no such thing as perfect only the quiet agreement between what breaks us and what refuses to stay broken. Still—listen: the wind learns its shape from open fields, light rehearses itself each morning on the edge of every roof and leaf, as if the world forgives itself by becoming new again. You are not a finished thing. You are a river remembering it is water, a name still warm from being spoken, a fault-line holding the sky together without ever asking to be whole.

0

sean-fitzpatrick

Apr 13

Apr 13, 2026 at 5:02 PM UTC

Sarahwild

Perfect

There is no such thing as perfect only the quiet agreement between what breaks us and what refuses to stay broken. Still—listen: the wind learns its shape from open fields, light rehearses itself each morning on the edge of every roof and leaf, as if the world forgives itself by becoming new again. You are not a finished thing. You are a river remembering it is water, a name still warm from being spoken, a fault-line holding the sky together without ever asking to be whole.

15

The arms of eternity open, like a sentimental bolero played at some in-between place, they open lazily and incandescently, encircling the comically and silently raging, Poetically, and gently, the phantom draws her wings towards forgetfulness - at the eye of the temple - distant, full of guidance and potential. The profound silence of bitter lives.

0

Nov 21, 2024

Nov 21, 2024 at 12:54 PM UTC

sean-fitzpatrick

11.21.24

The arms of eternity open, like a sentimental bolero played at some in-between place, they open lazily and incandescently, encircling the comically and silently raging, Poetically, and gently, the phantom draws her wings towards forgetfulness - at the eye of the temple - distant, full of guidance and potential. The profound silence of bitter lives.

13

space has always heard disembodied voices--then mouths eventually opened with shocks of sound. when that involuntarily comes across, incantations are dwarfed--meaning to. as if through a corresponding row of numbers, that give way to unlikey shapes that compliment one another. a cluster of grapes resting on the hip of a naked woman, lying on her side. light-canceling curtains purporting the birthplace of darkness, net motions loose as color left scheming. though nothing stirs--per se.

0

sean-fitzpatrick

Nov 10, 2024

Nov 10, 2024 at 10:50 AM UTC

Onoma

Nothing Stirs Per Se

space has always heard disembodied voices--then mouths eventually opened with shocks of sound. when that involuntarily comes across, incantations are dwarfed--meaning to. as if through a corresponding row of numbers, that give way to unlikey shapes that compliment one another. a cluster of grapes resting on the hip of a naked woman, lying on her side. light-canceling curtains purporting the birthplace of darkness, net motions loose as color left scheming. though nothing stirs--per se.

14

Sometimes . . . Such as a Who . . . at Leeds , Or a dream unfullfilled . . . in Alabama Or the conflict . . . daily in Dallas or the absurd . . . "Free at last ! Free at Last! Thank God free at last ! The more it changes The less I recognize . . . and there you elbow me saying ,"It remains the same!" Poetry is like underwear It's wearable but not necessary Comes in all shapes and sizes Any color you would want with printed statements of facts Some wear well Some have holes Some rise to the occassion Some barely make it waste deep

0

sean-fitzpatrick

Nov 10, 2024

Nov 10, 2024 at 10:39 AM UTC

South-by-Southwest

Poetry as Underwear

Sometimes . . . Such as a Who . . . at Leeds , Or a dream unfullfilled . . . in Alabama Or the conflict . . . daily in Dallas or the absurd . . . "Free at last ! Free at Last! Thank God free at last ! The more it changes The less I recognize . . . and there you elbow me saying ,"It remains the same!" Poetry is like underwear It's wearable but not necessary Comes in all shapes and sizes Any color you would want with printed statements of facts Some wear well Some have holes Some rise to the occassion Some barely make it waste deep

22

Visages perch like leaves offered to the sun, as we lie below, sleeping in a stream, toe-to-toe, our gills inundated with burning. A half-light permits itself to be shown. Its voice is used. Sea monkeys may sing their fragments. Their dreams are sharp coral that drag power from the broken body of a shore. They are in sin - a thing owned so unseriously. With the setting sun, the great aftermath looks on in leisure, and as a slave to the mystique: time’s wide course does not return nor continue accordingly.

0

Nov 9, 2024

Nov 9, 2024 at 8:37 PM UTC

sean-fitzpatrick

11.8.24

Visages perch like leaves offered to the sun, as we lie below, sleeping in a stream, toe-to-toe, our gills inundated with burning. A half-light permits itself to be shown. Its voice is used. Sea monkeys may sing their fragments. Their dreams are sharp coral that drag power from the broken body of a shore. They are in sin - a thing owned so unseriously. With the setting sun, the great aftermath looks on in leisure, and as a slave to the mystique: time’s wide course does not return nor continue accordingly.

15

have you ever seen moonlight on the lake? the moon whispering to the water lilies, the lilies white as the lace of a bride's gown. have you ever sat on a log contemplating the mystery of a cold and distant romance? 2 hearts forever longing to, but not able to embrace separated by endless night... ...wild birds are singing, and dawn's sweet chorus chases away the sad, lonely moon. have you ever heard the moon loves the flowing water, loves the mortal music of earth-borne water lilies?

0

sean-fitzpatrick

Nov 8, 2024

Nov 8, 2024 at 11:50 AM UTC

guy-scutellaro

mortal music

have you ever seen moonlight on the lake? the moon whispering to the water lilies, the lilies white as the lace of a bride's gown. have you ever sat on a log contemplating the mystery of a cold and distant romance? 2 hearts forever longing to, but not able to embrace separated by endless night... ...wild birds are singing, and dawn's sweet chorus chases away the sad, lonely moon. have you ever heard the moon loves the flowing water, loves the mortal music of earth-borne water lilies?

19

Standing conifers girdle them down to recumbent silence, their eyes-formed-plates laterally diminishing in eighths, They wait cross legged, sheltered by palms of rock and shattered limbs of lost parts, their minds slowly wandering, wrapping up the sky and up to rest in sky They are dreaming of singing, dancing so loudly in the cold and new night, If you are worn, take musk upon your hands and onto moss-ridden stones throw upon yourself the swell and look, it is large and empty, a disruption of rock breaking in the air It is: root splits stone twining dirt into valley covering, splitting pine into pine and path into path, cutting and wandering by the foot, A microcosm but repeating itself repeating itself, Disrupted, and if upside down, falling into sky.

0

Oct 22, 2024

Oct 22, 2024 at 11:49 PM UTC

sean-fitzpatrick

10.22.24

Standing conifers girdle them down to recumbent silence, their eyes-formed-plates laterally diminishing in eighths, They wait cross legged, sheltered by palms of rock and shattered limbs of lost parts, their minds slowly wandering, wrapping up the sky and up to rest in sky They are dreaming of singing, dancing so loudly in the cold and new night, If you are worn, take musk upon your hands and onto moss-ridden stones throw upon yourself the swell and look, it is large and empty, a disruption of rock breaking in the air It is: root splits stone twining dirt into valley covering, splitting pine into pine and path into path, cutting and wandering by the foot, A microcosm but repeating itself repeating itself, Disrupted, and if upside down, falling into sky.

34

there's a world inside your mind and it wants you to find a place for others, without changing the bookshelves the music or the way that you walk through the door. It might be the means of replacing the fear which stops you from living and giving and laughing as yourself.

0

sean-fitzpatrick

Aug 29, 2024

Aug 29, 2024 at 8:38 AM UTC

zarab

step into yourself

there's a world inside your mind and it wants you to find a place for others, without changing the bookshelves the music or the way that you walk through the door. It might be the means of replacing the fear which stops you from living and giving and laughing as yourself.

12