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Silence sounded soothing & sagacious
Time stood still...Solitary stayed selfish & superstitious.
This, tingled senses; that bell tolled & manifested a macabre Misery.
Since solitude strengthened a spot;
Mine own nightmares grew into one Succubus, filled with immorality - ****** desires...
Somewhere, somehow, I'm a lingering loner looking for love - a sentiment that never dies!
Life ended, memories remained copious;
Silence suffocated & since, misery concluded,
My addiction added a fastidious aura - some kind of flirtatious facade.
All donating a desolate & oblivious tragedy.

~ A. Rose
I would love to read your insights about this year (2024). This poem represents the never-ending battles that I had to face while undergoing the levels that this year threw at me... I guess that nearly all of us had to face our demons in this war, so, i hope that my piece of poetry can definitely be the writing that we all can allude to while reflecting on 2024....a tragic year!
low by day    a massive moon full
a bowl of candy pallor            
and this city is taken   to a more charming realm

more than one figure takes out a camera
aims                  and   i am not a real person
     but i am represented
       by an attempt     at something 'in bounds'
                       playing it safe
i feel like greeting
     and if truly bold  asking others
      of the quality of their experience right now
nov/24

[early version
Hello / I’m not a real person / But I am represented by an attempt/ A massive full moon /Pink and low by day/The city is taken to a more beautiful planet]
Zywa Dec 10
I escaped from my

armour, naked I feel: what --


is outside of me?
Poem "redekawel" - 1 ("argueing" - 1, 2022, Antjie Krog)

Collection "Passage Passion"
Jeremy Betts Dec 6
I just want you to want me
But experience shows
That task's an absolute impossibility
Leading to a litany of woes
I can't be too mad
No one's been able to do it
Not mother, brother, sister or dad
A reality that even to myself I don't want to admit
It hurts but brings no tears of the sad
I literally have no more to give to it
A pain universally grand
A heartbreak university grad
Minus the school spirit
Nothing left of me to offer either
There's only rubble in my chest
Ruins of love from a life prior
When the heart was left on house arrest

©2024
AWURAA Dec 4
Eyes meet,
heart fleets.

Just for a short moment.

The ambiguity of my eyes locking with those of stranger is one that I can never get used to.

What was laced in your eyes, what did you want to tell me that you were too scared to say?

Was it the colour of my eyes on warm summer's day,
or the beauty my child's smile in a rainy may?

Was it your desire to walk up to me and say hello,
or your sudden interest in the confidence I walked with?

Eyes meet,
hearts fleet,
the awkwardness that comes with knowing you have met eyes with a person you were not meant to be looking at,
the pain that stings in your heart after locking eyes with the one you owe an apology to because of your selfish morality.

Eyes meet and suddenly flutter away, look of annoyance plastered on my sister's face, saying, "can I help you?"
"Why are you staring at me?"
"fleets"- I use this word like fleeting, as in "for a fleeting moment."
Kundai N Nov 25
Life--
Sometimes it gets too much,
And that's too much for me.
Sometimes it's not enough,
And that's not enough for me.--
The poem is all about the in-betweens in life, the unspoken pressure that leads to failure or success.
It's saying that the pressure, situation or what ever circumstances on efaces can be too much of not satisfying, whichever it may be it's something that trumps the mood.
Sara Barrett Nov 19
Months burst with potential understanding
Thyroid, Childhood Cancer, Breast Cancer
And Autism - a landscape of perception
I knew little once
Before lived experiences carved pathways
Of comprehension
Hand flapping, repeated movie scenes
Specific sensory needs
Neurological landscapes diverse as humanity itself
From verbal to non-verbal
From sibling to parent
From self-discovery at 34
My perspective widens like a lens
Societal Echoes
The world whispers harsh narratives
"Discipline them"
"Fix them"
"Normalize"
But we are not broken
We are different
Intricate neural networks
Misunderstood symphonies
Digital age amplifies cruelty
Marginalization becomes performance
Awareness transforms to spectacle,
Unfolding Truth
Intricate neural pathways
Misread as discordant tunes
The digital age sharpens cruelty's edge
Marginalization dressed as entertainment
Awareness turned into spectacle,
A truth slowly unraveling
Hatred cloaked in the guise of compassion
Bigotry masquerading as care
April - a month of performative understanding
We see what others refuse to witness
Complexity beyond simple categorization
Humanity in all its beautiful, challenging variations
Spectrum wide as consciousness
Unbound by neurotypical constraints
This poem weaves together themes of personal growth, neurodiversity, and societal misconceptions, offering a heartfelt journey through lived experiences. It challenges narratives of "fixing" or "normalizing," instead celebrating the beauty and complexity of different neurological landscapes. Through its vivid imagery and poignant reflections, the piece critiques performative awareness and the digital age's role in amplifying cruelty, while advocating for true acceptance and understanding. A tribute to the resilience and humanity of those who navigate a world that often misunderstands them.
Sara Barrett Nov 15
In the glow of screens,
we gathered,
Farmville requests from aunts,
a world of laughter,
simple joys shared like sunlight,
photos blooming like flowers,
each snapshot a moment held close.
But shadows crept in,
voices grew louder,
arguments ignited in the digital crowd,
once a haven for stories and cheer,
now a battleground,
where fear and anger drown out connection.
Oh, to step back,
to mute the noise,
to cherish the small moments,
to find joy in simplicity.
Can we learn to listen?
To hold our space with care?
To share our truths without fear of judgment?
Imagine a world where we pause,
where empathy reigns and understanding flows.
Let’s reclaim the joy of a simple post,
the warmth of shared memories,
the bonds that matter most.
If we could remember how to talk again—
to share our lives without the weight of expectation,
to celebrate each other’s stories as our own.
Maybe then we can find our way back,
to laughter and support,
to kindness woven through our words.
And maybe one day,
we will step into that light again—
not as warriors in an endless fight,
but as friends seeking connection,
hearts open to the beauty of being together.
This poem, “Rekindling Connection in the Age of Social Media,” reflects on the dual nature of digital communication. It captures the initial joy of shared experiences through social media, contrasting it with the growing discord and disconnection that often arises in online interactions. The poem calls for a return to genuine connection, emphasizing the importance of empathy and understanding. It invites readers to cherish simple moments and celebrate each other’s stories, ultimately envisioning a world where kindness prevails over conflict. This poignant exploration resonates with anyone navigating relationships in a digitally dominated landscape.
Dom Nov 9
coffee rings stain the tablecloth
empty creamer pods pile up by the silverware.
the old man finishes his omelet off
while his grandson rocks in his chair.
the new dads outside smoke and cough
avoiding their wives' disapproving glare.
the waitress sits me at a tabletop
and I take in the fullness of the air.
the light in the room takes me like a moth
a moment fleeting is still a moment worth the care.
I eat breakfast every Saturday at Roth's
this diner where all our stories are shared.
I was really drawn to the idea of shared human experiences that we sometimes take for granted, and something about the coziness of a diner on a Saturday morning really stuck with me. God bless you all, have a lovely Saturday!
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