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 Jun 2023 Ky
RonliSong
Blue Enigma
 Jun 2023 Ky
RonliSong
It's time for change, feels overdue.
I've been toiling in red too long.
'You must know what you want and manifest it', they say,
But what you want and what you truly need do not always match up.
Want is shallow.
I need a blue enigma,
A new path,
El camino nuevo,
One of calm, goodness, worthiness, humility... Joy.
Joy from love, love from grace, grace from peace, peace from place,
El camino Nuevo.
Poetry prompt: 'Blue Enigma'
 Jun 2023 Ky
Nat Lipstadt
You Are the Texture

…………………………

~ for all of you,
you, you poet~



Impasto

is a technique used in painting,
where paint is laid on an area of
the surface thickly, usually thick
enough that the brush or  painting-
knife strokes are visible.

Paint can also be mixed right on
to the canvas. When dry, impasto
provides texture; the paint appears
as if, to be coming out of the canvas.


<1:47pm>

Cut & Paste

is a technique used in poetry writing,
we refer back to our visions, heard words,
the eyeful, the earful, scents, the reads read,
all in the mind’s palette blended, thickly, but
the merging fused, every word~in~coloration,
it is unique, reincarnation, copying impossible.

The imagery, cut and pasted from thy heart and
soul, upon canvas, your poems~pieces each appear
as you-are-texture, you becoming out of, you, the canvas.

<2:04pm>


Postscript*
………………

it is not lost on me that the
scars, our words,herein,
we note too frequently, almost casually,
are, can be, the selfsame
words/painting-knife
employed
for our first and foremost
canvas we utilize,
is ourselves…
our bodies, ourselves
Fri Jun 23
2023
 Jun 2023 Ky
allanbrunmier
Reader
 Jun 2023 Ky
allanbrunmier
silent library
those unspoken words on shelves
I ache to voice them
 Jun 2023 Ky
Henry Bladon
What would happen if the moon leaked?
Would there be a luminous canal
that flowed with moon milk?
Would we be able to bathe in
a shimmering pool of silver?
 Jun 2023 Ky
BarelyABard
Desire and dreams,
lofty clouds casting distant shadows.
Momentary shades of calm,
convert to blinding flame.
-
Torpid question marks rearrange
exclamation points.
Hues of commas and periods,
vibrant adjectives and adverbs.
Grunts and growls of wildered existence.
Perpetual noise.
Such picturesque nonsense.
-
Belief of charging knights
and moonwalks
decay to disappointed waistlines
shaky hands,
confused with living.

What beautiful strangeness,
the prospect of becoming.
-
Do we chase the shadows or create our own;
flourish roots
with ardent fingers?
Imagine with ferocity
enriching curiosity?
-
Dig deep, my child, and know you're real.
Or don't
We are substance and shadow,
words of florescence.
Or won't
Disheartened by cruelty
unfamiliar reflections,
resigned to naked truth.
Or can't

Do we accept,
or will we refuse?
Inhaling why,
exhaling when.
-
Blooming breaths
Horizons anew
Warmth of sun,
serenity of shade.
First poem I've put on here in years. Enjoy.
 Jun 2023 Ky
I S A A C
Icarus
 Jun 2023 Ky
I S A A C
this place is a pond
destined to dry, destined to die
i fashion some wings, white and long
i left before i could see it was wrong
spending my seconds before the sun
before tumbling down into the blue ocean
serpents and mermen
sharks and eels
my lungs fill like swimming pools
my restlessness got me killed
Too thin
Too fat
Too caring
Too much hate
Too small
Too tall
Too bright
Too dull
Too smart
Too dumb
Too stupid
Too young
Too new
Too old
Too meak
Too strong

All lies I tell myself everyday
But I know their lies
Then how do I stop a cycle of self hate?
 Nov 2022 Ky
Grace E
Deep-ression
 Nov 2022 Ky
Grace E
Guttural depths enclose me.
The vast expanse, like a tomb.
I am surrounded on every side by dark waters.
The endlessness is suffocating.
The immensity, my prison.
The deep, my grave.
 Nov 2022 Ky
betterdays
miles mean nothing to a heart that is pure
words penned in grace, sent to ether
give heartease to the overstretched
sowing stiches of understanding
in tapestry threadbare

little suns and stars
shining bright in love and hope
from face unseen and adirondack chair
gives strength to one down, from down under
allows grief, the words needed the abilty to care
for these simple gifts, no payment required
from the heart open to care...
in response to a beautiful poem" the dirge of memory" gifted to me by Nat Lipstadt....one in a million..
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