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Lyn-Purcell Oct 15

Under the light of the moon,
my mind races as I chase its tail
The sweet taste of happy thoughts
soured by the bitter screeches of life

Everything seems to scuttle through the cracks,
jumping and voiding every lance of light
As the flowerheads bobbed in the hooting wind,
ever earnest and every more grateful

But I am voiceless. Agile I may be to skip and
stay keep my cloak of shade, the panic grows in
its fat and I can't stop hearing hums
For the warmth in me comes in waves

In flames that flicker and smoke my lungs without fear
As I race forward to find my tranquillity
so I can stop feeling so wild, to **** that feeling so fierce
And not face the light that will scorch me so

Been a while since I did a new form of poetry. This one is called a Nocturne - a free form poem that set at night. It has 16 lines in total and sometimes can come in 4 stanzas.

Not feeling 100% but I want to make use of what's going on in my mind,
which is a thousand things a second these days with anxiety burning very hot in me.

The more I remain lost in my head, the more the urge there is to escape it. Have you ever thought of the mistakes you have made, and feel like the worst person alive? Even though I am scared of being in the dark,
I fear the light more as it feels somewhat like a scope at times, y'know?

Especially in this day and age, so I suppose the symbolism of a rat scurrying in the dark is rather apt. But it is a cycle of thought I am trying to break,
The more I read about poetry and study it, the more I am both grateful for it...and in a way, heartbroken too. I feel like I need to trust my skills more, I suppose.

I'm still making the list for the Women of Myth series as I have some new ideas in mind. Maybe next year, I will take a short course on poetry as well.

It feels good to write free verses again, I'll admit.
I miss writing really long ones so I'll definitely go back to doing so.
Please stay safe and hale, everyone.
My regards to your families.
Have a wonderful day!
Be back soon with more.
Much love,
Lyn x
Kelly Mistry Sep 11
Vulnerability is
                           ­ Source of power
                            Seed of change

By tearing down my walls
I invite you
To lower yours
Meet me on the field of ugly truths and lofty dreams

I didn't always see
Didn't always know

To be vulnerable
To speak truth
To share my ugliness and confusion
Gave me power

As I expose each truth to the light
They lose their hold
Guilt retreats
Shame seeps away
New growth can take hold

It is what it is
I am what I am
Exposed for all to see

The truth will set you free

        but accurate

What they don't tell you
Is that
Your truth

Can set others free too
The realities of life
Make stimuli abound
Creativity leaps and bounds
Imagination and fantasy
Come to play
Pieces of creative art
On the display
They speak creator's mind
Without sound
Some take offence
Identify them with creative art
Negative aspects of
Their reality present
See the truth exposed
Without being exposed
Make hue and cry
Despite creative art
Not specifically addressed to them
Their guilt comes to fore
By the same token
They are guilty
Guilty they are declared
Regina May 23
their lungs, their lives were cindered....burn pits afire,
our troops came home, can't breathe
Maurice May 12
your absence has been revealing
the reach of your arms; exposed
my thoughts,
feelings and actions
forever altered from our encounter

I have learned from our departure
you were not the flaw
I was flawed before we met
and now understand that you were my voice
but I haven't spoken since
Part 2 of 3
Something lies beyond
The power of Love is unity
Fear thrives on division
Life online ... A virtual existence
An implementation of fear
Something unseen is at work
Is the beast on his way
Or perhaps already here
A blanket of darkness has covered the earth
An awkward silence hangs in the air
And fear has become tangible
The earth seems sad and tired
Then a division line shall be drawn
Across earth and sea
The time to separate sheep from goat has come
And what is hidden shall be exposed
Like an overripe fruit that has fallen from a tree
Burst open for all to see what was lurking inside
Written by Sean Achilleos
20 March 2020
Gray Dawson Mar 3
Raise a loaded gun to my head
Arms turn to lead
Laugh loud, eyes widen crazily
Dig the barrel into the side of my head hysterically

Sweat sticks to the palms
My finger inches toward the trigger
The cold dark metal cools my racing thoughts
I remember the taste of maple syrup for some reason as I pull closer to the trigger

Leave the sleepy bedroom scene in front of me,
behind me as I close my eyes
Take a cracked breath
Pull the trigger
Gray Dawson Feb 19
Wrap the skeleton hands
Around the door handle
Pull hard
Open with a cracked rib

Lips cut and bleeding
Nose broken and in needing
See the truth
With an eye of death

Look towards the exposed
For guiding and teaching
Run a bony, bloodied, hand
Across the ribcage
Pepper Dove Feb 3
I can always tell when my life is beginning to fall apart by the mere glimpse of my ******, torn and gnawed to the bone fingertips. A reflection of my internal chaos, now exposed. Revealing my lack of will power to resist the urge when life’s mundane patterns and stress-induced anxiety take over. There’s something to be said when your toenails become longer than your fingernails. I’d say it says that it's time for a manicure of the soul. ****, a pedi wouldn’t hurt either.
A pattern I've noticed when I'm not at my "A-Game" in life. I think I'll use it as a red-flag to pick myself back up again. It's time to nourish my soul.
Rickey Spence Jan 28

A blank page. Is beautiful,
Like an empty cardboard box.
A blank page is pitiful,
Like a bike without shocks.
A blank page is powerful,
Like he who controls the clocks.

Words. Are dangerous,
Like a career in bomb diffusion.
Words are ponderous,
Like time spent in seclusion.
Words are useless,
Like having skills in indecision.

Expressions. Are misguiding,
Like incorrect road signs.
Expressions are inviting,
Like getting off the sidelines.
Expressions are exposing,
Like craters left by mines.

Fears. Will debilitate,
Like brakes locked on an icy road.
Fears will dictate,
Like poor learning of law code.
Fears will fabricate,
Like a hasty corduroy road.

How can the potential of a chart,
The potency of what we hear,
The mystery of an open heart,
Not keep one from outrunning Fear?
You just don’t know where to start.
Oh, when will everything become clear?

Pain. Is difficult,
Like a test of endurance.
Pain is heartfelt,
Like an understanding glance.
Pain is insult,
Like taunts in arrogance.

Doubt. Is dividing,
Like a denominator.
Doubt is saving,
Like a backup generator.
Doubt is disregarding,
Like a prideful visitor.

Acceptance. Is costly,
Like a gambling addiction.
Acceptance is ghostly,
Like it’s writing fiction.
Acceptance is necessary,
Like a correct prediction.

Love. Will change your ways,
Like moving across the planet.
Love will catch your gaze,
Like seeing a leaky faucet.
Love will not cease to amaze,
Like that: nothing but net.

How can feeling sufferance,
The weakness of doubt,
And the need for acceptance,
Continue to keep Love locked out?
Oh, how low will I cling to reluctance?
I just don’t know where to start.
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