Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
zowie-georgia
zowie-georgia
English 'Everything / Is / Always / Touched / By / Something' / -Zowie Georgia / / 'A poet can survive everything but a misprint.’ - Oscar Wilde
How can you truly see darkness if you don't recognise it within yourself? If it's denied or if we declare it's a place we'll never succumb to, where does it go when we choose not to own it within? So often we are afraid of the dark or what is perceived as such, but how can we be scared of something we don't really allow ourselves to feel.. When this dimmer, blacker absorption also holds a light it too holds a truth, a potency that's thick at the bottom of our bellies and it's linings are waiting to be known. So why are we so hesitant to keep digging within the pits of all we are, to hold and delve within a space that is just a denser shade of us. The darkness absorbs and yet it exists   as part of our (w)hole. If we try to separate and ignore it how bright does our light truly shine? The darkness lives and it can passionately love, we just have to learn to see it's darker disguise. When it rises heavily having felt and held so much in it's untamed years. Who says that darkness is not just as bright as the light, that it's also wise as well as reckless, that it's blood bleeds the same, that it's unknown or known doesn't touch as deep or feel as high... I see in the light too and the light has at times blinded me, and has led me like an addiction. I saw that such a light can be even darker than night casting us in it's shining. What if within the pit of our deepest darkness we also house the brightest light and at the pinnacle of our light.... our deepest darkness can also shine bright?
0
Sep 25, 2023
Sep 25, 2023 at 6:51 AM UTC
Just as bright as the light. (Integration)
How can you truly see darkness if you don't recognise it within yourself? If it's denied or if we declare it's a place we'll never succumb to, where does it go when we choose not to own it within? So often we are afraid of the dark or what is perceived as such, but how can we be scared of something we don't really allow ourselves to feel.. When this dimmer, blacker absorption also holds a light it too holds a truth, a potency that's thick at the bottom of our bellies and it's linings are waiting to be known. So why are we so hesitant to keep digging within the pits of all we are, to hold and delve within a space that is just a denser shade of us. The darkness absorbs and yet it exists   as part of our (w)hole. If we try to separate and ignore it how bright does our light truly shine? The darkness lives and it can passionately love, we just have to learn to see it's darker disguise. When it rises heavily having felt and held so much in it's untamed years. Who says that darkness is not just as bright as the light, that it's also wise as well as reckless, that it's blood bleeds the same, that it's unknown or known doesn't touch as deep or feel as high... I see in the light too and the light has at times blinded me, and has led me like an addiction. I saw that such a light can be even darker than night casting us in it's shining. What if within the pit of our deepest darkness we also house the brightest light and at the pinnacle of our light.... our deepest darkness can also shine bright?
Continue reading...
28
There's a mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that a brave soul shall surrender to her and in doing so she'll rescue them in return and embrace them into her watery world. The sea belongs to The Mermaid, she's delved the underworld, lives for discovering and has left the surface for those that are not ready to meet her yet. Maybe it's part of her enchanting beauty that she is always so immersed in the intensity of the water, the darkening depths of the sea, her own emotions, the womb of her world giving sustenance. In my curiosity to go deep into the abyss I met The Mermaid and there she asked me to plunge to the depths of the sea with her. The water was no longer blue, the rays of the sun no longer illuminated, it was cold and dark and I knew that I could just about reach the surface of the waters again to leave, but I also knew I'd done that many times before. I begin to sink but apart of me still resists, my legs slightly kicking and my hands unsure as I struggle to know what to do. 'Let go' -I hear The Mermaid echo through the water, her patient voice holds me, I feel safe but still I'm in conflict with all that I'm confronted with above. My mind continued to battle here as my body naturally slipped down some more, the deeper under water I went the more everything felt still. I felt The Mermaid on the periphery, in a distant part of me I think she's always lived, I've just not been able to trust in her. Everything feels longer underwater, time isn't of importance once you've abandoned your anxious breath. you begin to feel apart of it all, as though you're a small ripple of an imperminant wave and an untameable current bound into One. This place feels like I've been here forever now, it's so cold it actually begins to feel warm. The deeper I allow myself to sink the less I seem to contemplate. The less I struggle to let go the more peaceful I feel and the deeper I slip into the unknown the closer I get to her. I soon reach the bottom, the deepest place I can go and here I meet her where I always knew I would; It's too dark to see so I wait in the unknown for her to show herself but she didn't appear outside of me, in fact she spoke through me and with my own inner voice I heard ...'If you do not connect to the depth of yourself then you'll never know how you really feel. Just as a Mermaid swims so deep she can no longer see.. You must swim too, even when It's dark and scary and you might not even know what you feel or you feel too much and you feel as though you're drowning.. You must trust. Trust in yourself beyond anything and you shall always find your treasure here... ...There's a Mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that you shall meet here and to see without having to see. <3
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Mermaid (Fantasy/Metaphorical)
There's a mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that a brave soul shall surrender to her and in doing so she'll rescue them in return and embrace them into her watery world. The sea belongs to The Mermaid, she's delved the underworld, lives for discovering and has left the surface for those that are not ready to meet her yet. Maybe it's part of her enchanting beauty that she is always so immersed in the intensity of the water, the darkening depths of the sea, her own emotions, the womb of her world giving sustenance. In my curiosity to go deep into the abyss I met The Mermaid and there she asked me to plunge to the depths of the sea with her. The water was no longer blue, the rays of the sun no longer illuminated, it was cold and dark and I knew that I could just about reach the surface of the waters again to leave, but I also knew I'd done that many times before. I begin to sink but apart of me still resists, my legs slightly kicking and my hands unsure as I struggle to know what to do. 'Let go' -I hear The Mermaid echo through the water, her patient voice holds me, I feel safe but still I'm in conflict with all that I'm confronted with above. My mind continued to battle here as my body naturally slipped down some more, the deeper under water I went the more everything felt still. I felt The Mermaid on the periphery, in a distant part of me I think she's always lived, I've just not been able to trust in her. Everything feels longer underwater, time isn't of importance once you've abandoned your anxious breath. you begin to feel apart of it all, as though you're a small ripple of an imperminant wave and an untameable current bound into One. This place feels like I've been here forever now, it's so cold it actually begins to feel warm. The deeper I allow myself to sink the less I seem to contemplate. The less I struggle to let go the more peaceful I feel and the deeper I slip into the unknown the closer I get to her. I soon reach the bottom, the deepest place I can go and here I meet her where I always knew I would; It's too dark to see so I wait in the unknown for her to show herself but she didn't appear outside of me, in fact she spoke through me and with my own inner voice I heard ...'If you do not connect to the depth of yourself then you'll never know how you really feel. Just as a Mermaid swims so deep she can no longer see.. You must swim too, even when It's dark and scary and you might not even know what you feel or you feel too much and you feel as though you're drowning.. You must trust. Trust in yourself beyond anything and you shall always find your treasure here... ...There's a Mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that you shall meet here and to see without having to see. <3
Continue reading...
25
Your eyes swallow my heart <3
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Abyss
....A Love of the heart beats in a timelessness. .. True lovers are ancient in each-other, they've slept inside one another's hearts, forgotten each-other, forgotten themselves, only to come back and wake up to fall asleep again in various forms across the ages. Love is eternal, transferring one life to another, a reincarnated affair tricking us and challenging our knowing of self in order to come back to our very own gateway of truth.   Love is seeing ourselves in another and given a gift to celebrate it, through the beauty of another and as a reflection of your purest self, you celebrate in Union. Love is ancient, all lovers have lived inside each-other. There's an unforgotten memory of the heart that knows such Lovers share One beating heart in two human shells. ...A Love of the heart beats in a timelessness...
0
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Ancient Hearts (Remember each-other)
Cigarette ends tell stories, to the untrained eye it's poetry wasted, like an overfilled ashtray that's quickly exposed of, so eagerly started and ending so unfulfilled, why do we always enjoy the beginnings when the best part is meant to be the end.. Cigarette ends tell stories, so many that will never reach the stage, but I wonder the most common theme. Escape, in hail, love, loss, longing, to the mystery of what interests me. Cigarette ends tell stories, memories embedded in their remnants, so many stories, I want to know of them.
0
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
Cigarette ends tell stories
What if everything is already a memory just waiting to be re-remembered?
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
11:11
Unleash me from my restraint, feel what the eye cannot, with hands that hold less,  caressing more that's shy.
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
Caress
Resistance is a **** stunting the possibilities of us, our nature, and the sun that resides in us all. When we let go we always move forwards. And when we hurt we grow, we heighten, to a place that isn't initially seen, as holding on doesn't want to recognise you're no longer there. The illusion of resistance crumbles when we empty our hands, when our hearts tell our minds Just let go, here we regain the power of trust, of faith, and the wild playground of our lives prove joyful again. To extend out with all we have knowing this reach has reversed equally. Dropping the weight like a stone surrendering in the sea of life, expanding further still as we sink, knowing that holding on to that which resists so much is not ours to be held, we are not to remain stunted in a state of tug of war. life around us says so, we are to learn and beautify as we rise, as we fall We mustn't resist. And so we are, so we shall be free.
0
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
Photosynthesis
Connection comforts us with a warm sense of familiarity, a piece of home we look to find and know, in all of these reflective eyes that stand before us. Some have searched their entire lives, as though a sea of people have moved through them because this constant searching for completion in another is a set up for heartbreak if we can never truly dwell within our own flow. If we believe another is all we need to make us feel we will always be looking with eyes that forget how to close. This love shall be false nullified by our own lack of wholeness. I´ve felt angry, betrayed and hurt within the seas of such love. All this unnecessary aching due to my own foolishness, We are the only ones who make ourselves suffer. We betray ourselves through a lack of self love, through our own sense of incompletion. Because I no longer know the meaning of lonely. Just uncontained with all the love inside of me unfulfilled by the door un-opened from within. It´s our choice we decide to not feel. Many times I was foolish, believing love had given me up, resigned and blew away just like the echo that journeys when the wind moves in the trees. Those winds carried many of my ideals and I was just yet to open to this unlimited supply not matter what or who goes by... I hadn´t noticed until I closed my eyes that Love stood unwavered just waiting for me to re-open to myself. The branches may´ve altered leaves certainly died, re-gathered re-grew but my trunk always my core. As Love is a door that´s opened from within and then lends it´s opening to be explored to be entered with you.
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Lover within
Connection comforts us with a warm sense of familiarity, a piece of home we look to find and know, in all of these reflective eyes that stand before us. Some have searched their entire lives, as though a sea of people have moved through them because this constant searching for completion in another is a set up for heartbreak if we can never truly dwell within our own flow. If we believe another is all we need to make us feel we will always be looking with eyes that forget how to close. This love shall be false nullified by our own lack of wholeness. I´ve felt angry, betrayed and hurt within the seas of such love. All this unnecessary aching due to my own foolishness, We are the only ones who make ourselves suffer. We betray ourselves through a lack of self love, through our own sense of incompletion. Because I no longer know the meaning of lonely. Just uncontained with all the love inside of me unfulfilled by the door un-opened from within. It´s our choice we decide to not feel. Many times I was foolish, believing love had given me up, resigned and blew away just like the echo that journeys when the wind moves in the trees. Those winds carried many of my ideals and I was just yet to open to this unlimited supply not matter what or who goes by... I hadn´t noticed until I closed my eyes that Love stood unwavered just waiting for me to re-open to myself. The branches may´ve altered leaves certainly died, re-gathered re-grew but my trunk always my core. As Love is a door that´s opened from within and then lends it´s opening to be explored to be entered with you.
Continue reading...
45
Coffee first thing, better make it a double for the morning rush and that train that expects me. Closing eyes on the journey trying to accumulate another micro minute of peace maybe the silence kept me all night, with ideas on how to change. Or I'm overworked by the drive that will buy an escape to freedom. We closed our eyes as it's too depressing to see, too numbing to watch, but if hearing is the last sense hanging on then announce on our speaker that today is not just another, that there is something different, something hopeful to come back out of our heads from. let us feel more I feel like screaming, maybe to cause some confusion, so an emotion creates something other than familiarity. Yet more papers turn as the melancholy deepens, unconscious or 20:20   the train doors open anyway, to close, as though destiny decided to accept waiting. Just for a few more stops anyway Tapping on phones in disconnectedness, engaging away from that moment as blinking just don't know where to be sitting facing such strangers. Nobody look at me! fingertips planning movements of where One shall have to be, when these doors of limbo re-open. Where are all those travellers! I walk behind, a que of single file and with every step I long to run through and against this one way system, possibly naked to provoke a smile if I'm lucky But the moment isn't opportune I guess I will do it one day On a day I will swear that I will never feel enslaved by the weight   of obligation gripping my sole.    Marching up stairs with images of arrows, follow this direction is the wrong kind of sign Steps continue upward as though a continuous metaphor. And soon I'll take my chances.
0
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
le métro dans la vie
Coffee first thing, better make it a double for the morning rush and that train that expects me. Closing eyes on the journey trying to accumulate another micro minute of peace maybe the silence kept me all night, with ideas on how to change. Or I'm overworked by the drive that will buy an escape to freedom. We closed our eyes as it's too depressing to see, too numbing to watch, but if hearing is the last sense hanging on then announce on our speaker that today is not just another, that there is something different, something hopeful to come back out of our heads from. let us feel more I feel like screaming, maybe to cause some confusion, so an emotion creates something other than familiarity. Yet more papers turn as the melancholy deepens, unconscious or 20:20   the train doors open anyway, to close, as though destiny decided to accept waiting. Just for a few more stops anyway Tapping on phones in disconnectedness, engaging away from that moment as blinking just don't know where to be sitting facing such strangers. Nobody look at me! fingertips planning movements of where One shall have to be, when these doors of limbo re-open. Where are all those travellers! I walk behind, a que of single file and with every step I long to run through and against this one way system, possibly naked to provoke a smile if I'm lucky But the moment isn't opportune I guess I will do it one day On a day I will swear that I will never feel enslaved by the weight   of obligation gripping my sole.    Marching up stairs with images of arrows, follow this direction is the wrong kind of sign Steps continue upward as though a continuous metaphor. And soon I'll take my chances.
Continue reading...
65