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Mark Wanless Mar 21
what are choices but
a skill of hand internal
progresse in practice
Maria Mitea Mar 21
be dignified of every fall,
no matter the severity of the drama,
as a ”buen maestro” not a spectator
walk with dignity through the film of your own drama,
maintain the path, invest your soul,
you will never be who you were,
whether you're laughing or crying in pain,
do not compromise with the false spirits,
give up egocentrism, expectations, lamentations,
make time and create space, detach from everything,
every day do your inner work,
lie down on the floor and respiro, respiro, respiro …
more respiro, rest, rest, rest, float, float,
floating awareness, detach and let it go of everything,
let it flow ...
for your own soul to be reborn.
xjf Feb 2
I am
theatre bred
I am
poet born
I will not tread lightly
I will blow my horn
I will make practice
of practice
Till every act is
that of mastery
I will steal history
for so long
that it will linger upon
me. For centuries
Derrick Cox Dec 2020
You ride the wheels in the streets
it’s the first of many risks you take
But you don’t give a ****
because fear is your *****.
Not every road you skate on is smooth;
most of them are damaged
to make you crack
or make you wise.
And somewhere along the road
there’s always some *******
in your way
to make you crash.
But you’re ready for it
kick flipping over it all
landing on your board
with a smirk on your face.
Life plays too many tricks
to make it ******* you.
But you got tricks of your own
to make it work.
You take flight in the air
like you’re Icarus.
Sliding down poles
scraping off edges
like you’re in an action film.
You fall and get hurt,
but you never die of your boardam.
You get board
and keep on skating.
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I pound the pillow, curse the clock and mock injunctions to rest.

The sun finally rises and its rays slantwise fall through the curtains as I dry my hair.

A meal, like a forced dose, we soak ourselves in wasted, nervous time.

Finally! We arrive at the competition...

Tension is here and tireless pressure.

The players waiting stiff as straw, tongues playing over dry lips.

Teachers and coaches unapologetic in their pallor.

Music drifts behind us and occasionally gasps as imperfections play like daring circus tricks.

The sparkling prodigy returns disappointed, grimace of a smile, stricken, he stares away as we search for words, oh! clumsy, unrepairable prince!

Suddenly, its time and I wonder why we are hurrying, feeling weak, momentarily frightened to go there.

On this stage in this great, hushed hall, enormity suddenly dawns with mass enough to crush me.

At last I sit before this odd Steinway music machine - my dearest mechanical friend.

A tremble resisted - the reward of mortal afternoons - endless practices fruit.

Eyes closed I prepare my best self - pushing all fear, all doubt, to the margins - and begin.

I hope, to recreate, one note at a time, Chopin's ancient impact - with hands flying, like tethered birds, I hammer out his timeless melody explosions, his streams of crazily exact math exam fiery semiquaver motions.. then, almost suddenly, I'm done.

I stand, joyously, nearly crying.. The world hasn't ended.
if competition id good for the soul, it can still be ******* the nerves  =]
Matilda Nov 2020
Where is the Messiah?

Are you there God?

It’s me, your pariah.

I’ve become something of a liar,

a mystifier, a cad, a fraud:

Where is the Messiah?

To deliver from brimstone and fire?

Against the one wielding the iron rod?

It’s me your pariah,

son of the dawn, prince of the nebula

the gates of Judecca have thawed.

Where is the Messiah?

I’ll take silver, like Judas and Delilah

their feet are swift; to shed blood.  

It's me, your pariah.

Your ***** for hire,

Oh, how I await the flood.

Where is the Messiah?

It’s me your pariah.
Please Critique! I would love to improve!
Mark Wanless Nov 2020
my philosophy
is kindness without quarter
i practice poorly
Isabella Sep 2020
Succumbing to pain
Growing numb to the ice chains
Forgetting the cage
Vi Aug 2020
I Have
With you
This faith
This love
This intimacy
This knowing

I Have
In you
My love
A lilt
A tune
A flowing

You are
My darling
Of ache
And pain

You are
Right now
This moment
The same

I long
To tease
The me
The you
The thy

I want
To scream
And shout
You are
Not you
You’re I

I love you
And softly
With tenderness
Not shame

I always
Was you
We are
one, And
The same

There is
A vast
That seems
Not yours
But mine

There is
Some solace
In that
You are
My very
Loreah Aug 2020
The glass of water shattering,
in my imagination and almost beyond
like everything else in so many ways
but not me, never me;
I am... the safety
I am the padding of the cell
I am the broken fuse allowing all the light to shine.
I am the possibility that smothers the fear in cradle.
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