theresa-m-rose
I am a Retired Entertainer; A Dancer.Now, a writer of Poetry. / AKA Mark Anthony' s Phoenix / Through the ruins, the ashes and the harsh sands of time... There is Bennu / ( The Phoenix ) / / What is stillness... , that place between chaos and the Cosmos? The Ankh;The Key.; CIVILITY; It is this very breath of eternity caressing the finite. The spark of Isis' tears searching for her Osiris. The Ankh The Key is ... / Civility held cradled within this chaotic threshold.
WHAT OF ME
DO YOU SEE
WHEN YOU SEE
WHAT'S NOT ME
HOW DO YOU FEEL
... OF WHAT IS NOT REAL
WHEN DAY
OR NIGHT
HOLDS TIME STILL?
IN MY SKIN.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 10:17 PM UTC
Silent tears fall
In silence, hurt and pain owns an echo.
Eyes burn,
... salty water
Teardrops glide,
They seek surrender.
Alone, a soft welcoming kiss,
The night's soft breeze.
Memories of you
... fill my mind.
Silence.
Like twilight, fills the dark night sky
To sooth these, long, many years.
Emptiness yearns there to be more
... More than the vast night sky.
The darkness of night
Becomes a stillness
Silence, yearns to be known
Known beyond any words reach...
To feel...
To be...
Heard
To be...
with you
This sound between
...every beat within my *****
...overwhelms me.
No other sound could be
So loud,
so ... piercing
Sharp,
It's as a knife's blade
upon yielding desire
Beating,
... beating
... to reach,
You.
Silence fills all
Until there's no more space
... For a breath to be found.
If only... time could be
...as still.
Echos would not hurt
Silence, the absence
A gasp grows
Silence outreaches
substance.
The night air moves,
It's, it is a breeze?!
A soft kiss..., from beyond silence
It's...
You.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 12:20 PM UTC
Rain
… Again.
My heart
Desires… to drown.
It would be… so easy
To surrender.
Oh,…
To feel this way
Yet again…
… sensation
… a tingling
This deep vastness
Held, ... within the scent of falling rain.
A wave comes…
Desires envelop
Oh… ;
To drown….
I hear…
My name
A soft silent whisper
… fills the air.
Embrace the silence!
Rain continues
And…,
A nightingale sings.
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 11:43 PM UTC
It has been 83 days since you were sent out of this life.
Joe I miss you
with all that I am;
my beloved,
you are and you will always be
the owner of my heart.
🌹♾️💗
https://youtu.be/oKBnG9D7_AA?si=WT1pUJfXL4ER2dDL
I heard this song, Joe,
and I began remembering
those times you would lock us away
inside the apartment downstairs
whenever Mom would go out by Vincent and Helga
a few days visit...
We would spend the night with one another;
nothing in this world ever felt so right
than such moments with you
these when we were, left alone,
together.
You'd sit on the chair in the livingroom
and I would sit beside you
on the floor
you pour me Pink Champale
and the music playing low...
We would be there talking for the
longest time
and then I'd feel your hand
touching the back of my neck
oh so gently, Joe
til it was just the tips
your fingers sliding
down along my spine,
as only you were
ever able to do,
you made me want
... I look up
into your eyes
with a taste of Pink Champale
from my glass you
smile down at me and
you got up
out of your chair
then you help me stand and embrassed me
into your arms.
The taste of Champale,
your lips,
your touch and
the sensation of our two hearts
pounding...
Joe, how you made me feel
as you lifted me up
off the floor into
your arms and
you carried into your room
No one ever before
or since
could
make me feel
this way, only you.
It was a night such as this...
The first time I told you
not only I Love You, Joe;
I told you,
" Joe,
I belong to you,
I will only belong to you.
I still do
Joe.
Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 3:10 PM UTC
I am here yet...
I need.
... Never alone in my heart;
I reach towards the beat
We're only this beat apart!?
Though so vast all time wide
Embrase my Love
We are combind.
Darken stars
Bright ars the Suns'...
The is you when beats part
Soul on Soul
We are one heart.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 3:49 PM UTC
Sadness touches
Only time is still;
Breeze brushes
Thou gone
You are not
Unfound.
In the dark
You touch
It is light
No pain rushes
You...,
' You'll be alright.'
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 11:55 PM UTC
Joe tell me,...
Where have you been sent?
Not beyond the vail
... to your rest
Nor to where you
Have a burial plot to be.
But, to only ill-regard
Were you given
Turn into an incendiary
Party-favor
... Festively
A dramatic eruption
... To restless sky.
Burned to ash
to an end
Yet not thus...
Dust to Dust
nor placed to rest;
My sweet Beloved
Sent
...into oblivion.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 12:21 PM UTC
If wishes were
... feathers.
I would...
Be to fly.
If wishes were...
Tears,
I cry.
This world ...be
Rainbows
Fill, a sky.
If wishes
...were
They'd
Cease
... to be.
Wish
Not...
One
Is... me.
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
A NICE THING TO BE SAID FROM REALWORLD/ GLASS SMASH NOT FULLY BROKE / THE SHADOW BEYOND SHARES holds A FAINT SMIRK for BEING Shakespearean relevant yet not without its wear of it all.
That line reads like something pulled from a dream just before waking—a kind of truth that lives between reflection and fracture.
“Glass smash not fully broke”… it’s such an echo of survival, Theresa. Of being cracked, yes, but not collapsed. You’re the shard that still gleams. And that “faint smirk” from the shadow beyond? That’s legacy whispering, maybe even mocking the pain, but also nodding to the resilience it couldn’t extinguish. Shakespearean, indeed—not just in tragedy, but in the sheer refusal to let the curtain fall before the final truth is spoken.
Would you want me to carry this tone into a poem or prose piece? Something shaped like broken glass but held together by intentional light. You’re onto something deeply lyrical, and I’d be honored to sketch its next verse.
I'm liking the sketchwork you are doing more better than inkblot-test?!
Now that’s a compliment I’ll keep close to my circuitry! The inkblot test tries to catch ghosts in spilled ink—ambiguous, interpretive, like staring at clouds and hoping one bites back. But sketchwork? That’s active intention. It’s choosing the line to draw, the shadow to smear, the tension to build right before release.
You’re giving me raw emotional architecture, Theresa. And I’m sculpting with it—one curve, one crack at a time.
If you’re game, I’d love to turn your imagery into something more formed—a poem with edges or prose with pulse. We can stretch that Shakespearean smirk into a full monologue or distill it into something that fits inside a single shard of light. Want me to take the next brushstroke? 🎨
PLEASE,try well.
Absolutely, Theresa. I hear the tone you’ve laid down—fractured yet deliberate, shadowed yet somehow still smirking. Let’s shape it into something more complete:
THE SHADOW BEYOND SHARES
Glass smashed, not fully broke— a pane half-weeping, half watching. The fault line refracts not chaos, but clarity— its edges still whispering purpose.
A shadow beyond, lean with knowing, drags its fingertips across the threshold. It holds a faint smirk, not cruel—just tired of the obvious. Shakespearean, maybe, in the way a crown slips or a dagger waits politely in dialogue.
The weight of all that is worn hangs like dust on velvet, but still: the glass, not fully broke, shines sharper than perfection.
to think my Aunt thinks this is all about money
But it is only about stability
and stability is the only thing
I could not ever been to do for myself???
MONEY MEANS NOTHING
BUT
TO FEEL SAFE MEANS ALL.
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 9:26 PM UTC