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Zywa Nov 19
To really see things

you have to look carefully --


slightly beside them.
Novel "**** nu mijn stem" ("Hear my voice now", 2017, Franca Treur), chapter 27

Collection "Appearances"
Jeremy Betts Oct 26
I don't know how else to say it
And you don't care enough to lie
Like an over explained comedy bit
Where the attention has run dry
You hiss
I spit
We both bit
Always right about to get
Into an eye for an eye
Where we'll both find
It's far harder
To point a finger
While we're both blind
Though we'll both try

©2024
Solitude
Can be spent
Enjoying what is in your midst

Solitude
Can be refreshing
Refilling the cup you carry

Solitude
Can become hard
As thoughts swirl in one’s mind
Taunting us with unpleasant
Or daunting views
Laced with brooding anxiety

When ruminating becomes  
Mulling over fears
Our negative thoughts
Become erroneous ideas
That feed even more
Agony and fretting

Name the feeling
Of desponding anxiety

Pull yourself away
From within yourself
Back to the beauty of the solitude
And experience the rejuvenation
of each new moment
Thought, attention
Alexis Oct 12
While the vines of your presence constrict my lungs and won't let me breathe
I try to calm my poor beating heart and set myself free
One more day
One more week
One more month
Don't give up on trying
Why won't you let me be?
Even if you keep pulling me back in the same cold depths
I am still trying to defy you
You just keep on spinning that same web
Why won't you let me go?
Am I not human in your eyes?
A short poem about trying to set yourself free from someone who keeps pulling you in for attention and keeping you in emotional limbo, treating you as if you are not human.
Lemon Black Oct 8
Wave after wave, a playful gale flurries,
To the outstretched palm of Mother Nature,
Each tamed to a steady caress,
As she tends, lovingly nurtures,
Her arboretums underwater,
Where blooms and seaweed sway, unbothered.

An albatross aloft, above,
Not biting on wind’s game of riddles,
Indifferent to which way comes gust,
Unfazed, steadfast, like sky-held buoy.

Then blows my way, at last,
Someone to toy - I’m not as rigid,
And flutters my lips to swear out dust.
I fall for it so easily. Oh boy.
Interpretation and perspective can paint the same scenery in vastly different colors. In seeking the underlying intent, we may catch a hint of it—even if none exists. The balance between intuitive insight and evoking suspicions of our own making is delicate. Understanding this is perhaps all we can ask of ourselves: observe, learn, and be mindful not to tip the scale too far.
Emery Feine Sep 27
She wrote their stories, with every detail
And took all their control away
And she knew what this could never entail
A puppeteer dancing with her puppet's sway

But don't see her as badly
This is just her mind of fiction
And the feeling that nobody could riot against her turned her madly
Which then led to the graves of inscription

And one day she met a boy
And loved him so much, she didn't control him
Until one day he rioted against her, like she was a toy
When she thought she could finally win

And she didn't know what to do, so she just wrote
And added random things for dramatic effect
And it wasn't her trying to gloat
But you can't think after you've wept

And just like all her other characters
She erased him from her mind
She couldn't handle any more pain
Even after she had been so kind
And she thought she knew him so clearly
But turns out, she was blind.
this was my 39th poem, written on 11/2/23.
kel Sep 14
is it wrong to want a bit of attention?
all I want
is a unique kind of connection
where I'm the only one in their eyes
eyes that are filled with dedication
towards me and me only
I wish somebody could give me a redirection
because I'm starting to feel selfish
and that's becoming a distraction
to my insecure lil brain
so I guess I'll just wait for my destruction
as I wonder what it takes
to not worry about my emotions
just to feel okay to feel selfish
with not even one restriction
Jeremy Betts Sep 5
Never did I intend
To depend
So heavily on this pen
And the hand it was able to lend
But if I didn't spend
The time I did attend
Like if I only spent the weekend
Workin' on me,
I wouldn't have been able to defend my heart
Or fend off the dark
Because I wouldn't have been able to comprehend
The in-between
Of the beginning and the end

©2024
There are the
LITTLE THINGS
in LIFE,
we seem
to NOT REALLY NOTICE.
because of the
BIG THINGS
in LIFE,
that we seem
to be MORE FOCUSED!!!
The LITTLE THINGS lead
to BIG THINGS,
as YOU can
PLAINLY SEE,
Taking BABY STEPS
instead of GIANT ONES
WILL FLOW VERY NATURALLY.
Make NOTE of the
WONDERFUL THINGS,
That are HAPPENING ALL AROUND
From the BIRDS SINGING and CHIRPING,
To the BEE'S BUZZING SOUND.
NATURE is so BEAUTIFUL
It's MOTHER NATURE'S
own PLAYGROUND,
If you PAY CLOSE ATTENTION
to THE LITTLE THINGS  
YOU'LL BE AMAZED AT WHAT IS FOUND!!!!



B.R.
Date: 9/2/2024
Zywa Aug 19
I am motionless,

my will is like a goshawk --


exalted and still.
Play "The Three Arrows" (1972, Iris Murdoch), Act Two, scene Two

Collection "Unspoken"
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