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showyoulove Nov 23
The spirit is willing to hear your every word
But my body says, this is right now, absurd
For sleep comes welcome to the weary worn
But I have made a covenant that will not be torn
Give me strength Lord for my lids are as stone
Give me light for my sight grows dim
Give me your promise I won’t go through life alone
Give me your heart afire from within
The struggle is real Lord and the fight is long
The spirit remains, but strength is gone
Tomorrow is a new day full of promise and vigor
And I’ll be there with strength and a heart that is bigger
Emery Feine Nov 16
I tore my flesh off
Ripped off my muscles
To give to you
But when you asked
For my soul
You deemed me selfish
For refusing to let it go
this is my 132nd poem, written on 11/15/24
Can we be more than just a  produce for this world?
Conjoined to the core so I can claim you mine,
So I can feel more than your flesh and blood,
So I can feel your soul and it's innocence,
With a quill I shall write our sorrows together,
Yet describing the depth of your eyes is all my quill is bound to do,
You colonized my heart with one embrace,
Claiming everything yours,
It was already yours,
But I would rather write than say,
It's all a shattered spectacle can do,
The hum of your heart is rather enticing,
Its coarse yet delicate how surprising,
"You are a whim of my heart" is all I can say
A whim that shall never perish and ruin me away
Tawana Sep 24
I find myself putting on a show for eyes that do not see me as human. My movements are rehearsed, not for the joy of expression, but for the survival of a woman in a world that prefers her to be spectacle.

Slowly slipping the silk of my shoulders teasing no one but the walls. The air around me is cool, indifferent, The only thing that touches me without expectation.

I am a wisp of flesh bound to earth only by wanting. A hollow figure made whole by his eyes, seeking to hold me to drag me here in this world of flesh, But I am not of it. I am thought. I am soul. I am the poetry of my own being, I am more than the silence he assumes speaks only of longing.

But I will always be flesh, The embodiment of desire, A symbol, a thing-never a whole. An empty chalice into which he pours The wine of his longing, never wondering If the vessel itself thirsts for something more.

And so the silk falls, Again and again,
For an audience that never understands
The torment of playing a role
That was never meant to be mine.
Ylzm Aug 20
A wonder a day's old is old
For today's a greater wonder yet
Without asking without knowing
Given if gifted to accept

A vine grafted to ancient roots
Drinks deep beneath the rocky earth
A child tasting strange unknown foods
Knowing not father nor mother

Ever filled with songs ever new
Awakes the dawn with song unsung
From sights seen winged beyond the stars
And joy's complete when mysteries known

Accepting that made not with hands
Needs knowing the Mind not of flesh
Ylzm Aug 8
When you know it's not you
Then you’ve known another

But is it friend or foe
For you or against you

Your saviour or jailer
Your master or helper

It may oppose but it's not enemy
It rather flatters for pride leads to fall

Perhaps it's neither for you nor your foes
But for itself as it befits its own

If asked it will say it is what it is
And what another may say I don't know
Ylzm Jul 31
Unless you see your chains you're not free
Unless you see your flesh you're not spirit
And unless spirit and soul mutually see
You cannot know there's Another in your midst

Unless you are silent and still
You cannot feel the gentle wind
Nor hear its whispering song
Nor discern it's voice in the harmony, or dissonance
MsAmendable Jun 6
When dinner becomes a dance,
Standing in the kitchen as the clock strikes 12,
Tomato juice dripping to my elbows
Spices spilled over vegetables raw in my hands,
The carving knife wet with sauce
Eating fistfuls of my own hunger and joy
Until I reach the end of that deep and driving primal hole
The meat pads my bones
And fills my aching soul
.
And standing for midnight mass
In the holiest place in my home
I catch my glance in the window's gleam
And am introduced to a woman I've only met
In my deepest and sweetest of dreams
Mark Wanless May 31
tearing of paper
tearing of flesh difference
such sad thing to know
You hit me like a wave. I drifted away, coming into the shore, and lied there with nothing but my naked eyes; the sun covered my cold, barren body. Radiating sunshine and weakness as the sea called over me, you traipsed and towered over my sight, blinding me with your ivory skin lit as the match fired the sky.
 
The waves in the sea squished me in like a soft linen blanket, wrapping me all over like the comfort of a mother. My hands were trembling as you stood there unmoving, and the melodies and blasphemous beats almost dug me out of my ears; I couldn’t even do anything. You were there like an angel lost in his epiphany. It was as if a goddess were in front of you; your eyes spoke as you became a slave to your own wrath, worshipping what was in front of you. You laid your eyes on me like I was some kind of song you could not decipher.
 
You stood there, solving the creeps and mysteries and finishing the last verse of a poem you will never read again. You hit me like a wave, and I drifted away, hoarding memories left astray. You were there, godlike and lost, and even the sun loathed your fire. You burn like a match, your skin a stain of crimson—of sunshine and weakness. You called me, but I did not answer.
 
It was cold, and I loathed it. Perhaps it was the month of October where the enigmas of night lay open, and achingly, my flesh was found in humiliation. I continued to bleed, on and on.
What is love, if not impeccable grief?
What is love, if not that one dreary night of October?
What is love, if not broken bones and bruises?

Grief is sweet and heavy. Abundant and empty. I remember grieving and feeling everything all at once. Without shedding tears, my heart continued to know the heaviness of my silent pleas. I remember writing pieces that do not make sense, and by the end of the day, somehow, they do. I’m glad it's over.

Song: Where’s My Love - SYML
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