I dislike the rising sun.
𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝓘 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓾𝓷 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓾𝓹 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷. 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆. It forces me to go about my day, 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸. 𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆. While my mind is still on yesterday. 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦. 𝓐𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓭𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒕. I feel envious of everyone. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺. 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏. Who feels better in each passing day. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘤𝘢. 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽. 𝑰𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍. The sun rose and lit my surroundings. 𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 "𝘛𝘈𝘏𝘖" 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘱. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓾𝓷 𝓲𝓼 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆. I see nothing but dull and grey. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱, 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥. 𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝔀, 𝓘 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉. Waiting for sunset, to begin again my agony. 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴... 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷. 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒂𝒍𝒔.
Sunrise and Sunset.
A reflection of me and three others.
There's a spiders web
Of words I've said Entangled in the calendar of time A lovers rhyme of feelings In minutes or moments or moves I fell in love with you A game of chess Just to feel your breath upon me I'd wish to call anyone That singular one The ￼fable of teachings Says we're reaching for something impossible To not feel love across lanes Indeed, sounds insane We are wide, we are vast We are fast to feel full at last.
Love is not singular
The unknown in me
written July 22nd, 2021 I collect words and try to fit them to my experiences trying to capture this moment right now— it is all I have. I—looks at the page and writes a moment while others peer over her shoulder shaking their heads curling up to sleep from the overwhelm reaching out to change a word or phrase we are all here sometimes all at once other times one at a time I always think I know who writes these words this word right now Until I look back and don't recognize words just written I guess we are used to it the wonder and startlement of the unknown in me.
Each poem, explores a piece of me. Some are written for the fun of writing words, others, for the hope of writing me.
A young disciple of discipline is just,
trying to dissipate negative traits. Hesitations of change are often in frame but most balloons don't fly straight. Instead there's the choice of multiple fates, played upon through invisible games. Who is listening, we're nowhere near finished yet, when the drifter remains in stages to claim. Draw upon those who have taught you before, are these new lessons or echoes restored in repetition. Persistent tricks formed from stubborn habits, hidden in-kind to the back of our brains, where a complete disregard is often retained. Try observing yourself through the eyes of others, are you sure we're the same when shuffling states.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
If I don't remember you
You will always have a place in my heart Like a reflection in a cracked mirror Endlessly looking at itself at each segment Never looking at me, though Poignant isn't it, that we are both broken
How do you like this?
Read the next part to mend this part.
Essence, like multiple personalities sitting in the same house. Such intensities of changing rhythms and feeling that knowing whisper that it's all okay. She's angry, she's mad She wants to cry Pity, distant loneliness tired, body aches happy, dancing Sensual Wisdom pours all at once. Where were we? It's hard to say Would like to go Would like to stay It doesn't work to try to sort your way through Sift along the waves As they pull back to you
Oct 24, 2019
---- Written to: Fleetwood Mac "The dream has just begun"
In a tectonic motion
Mountains have formed Ridges deepened In the blink of an eye In the breadth of a gasp I recognize myself Asking why they assume That we find who we are Within the singular grasp Of a mere single soul For I feed a thousand of them And they feed themselves alone Your so-called meditation Must be taken elsewhere You must see that it was Never yours to begin Watch the rearview mirror As it enquires the wisdom I am but a multiple Left merrily unresolved
Written in May 2020.
— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact
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Strong is the heart,
shared between two; because multiple of something, is more powerful than a few
The heart sign <3 is two heart joined.