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KHY Oct 2023
The peace inside me is cracking blue

the hatred of men and the loathing of women
***** lonely tombstones from coast to coast

and I can't help but think
our violets are rotting at the root
Ismail Nasution Dec 2022
Roses are red
Violet are blue
The more you think of it
The more it haunts you
Bree marie Sep 2023
Black and blue, I've been painted by you. How have I been such a fool?
Paul NP Jul 2021
When I breathe my body is relieved.
Where once timber, now limber.
My posture is vibrant and silent.
I'm cleansing my Violet.
Violet where once crown, no longer a frown because
I'm grounding, I'm grounding until my soul is unbound.
I'm breathing, and when I'm breathing laughter reveals me but I focus, I focus and I don't let it seal me.
I'm cooling, I'm cooling, and soothing my soul, so that it may stay open for one and for all.
I meditate
I abbreviate, small glimpses of light.
So that the sugar of my solar may fall out - from my sight.
I am serious, and my breath is sinuous.
It awakens my mind,
But these competitive thoughts: they do not oblige.
So I keep breathing and breathing for full conscious feeling and through this procession my spirit is right.
Spirit pouring out of my pores.
I am rich with inner vision.
What sun shall I bring up to clear division.
What light shall I pour out tonight, Oh Sun
I am ready to stand up for what's right.
Deep Breathing Sessions
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the world turning inside out---no such thing as salted mint:)

like a wild hint

taste a glimpse of salted mint

tackle the caramel passions

cinnamon enchantment of imagines

no bit of lost roses

happiness in measured red doses

remain in the lavender's fair violet

to hesitate the sour act of deficit

to refuse the golden boil of the sun

bring a stop to the good from miscalculating the sum

                                                           ­                       -----ravenfeels
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, never been more frustrated for not remembering a dream:_(

deja vu brought to view
even better this time that was like the twisted flu

an erase my system moonlighted on me frustrate to repeat
sunset a truck corner an autumn lasting in the backseat

forget that the ocean sailed and orange witches golden
a town of ancient camps imagined clean desires and broken

any subconscious stubborn to hold on inner fantasy?
cause me can't reach a fulfill a journey come to and ending duality

violet unaware a desire everlasting bel air
do dreams come true flasher in sharp not matter mere???

bare me the renaissance a century in ancestry fading memory far  
pieced in my head puzzled mad realization aiming stars

magnetism the hell it means dungeon and dilemma bolds
sharp steeps deepen the voices  running struggles put to the sold

To the once blooming violet, is it true?
Will she succumb her petals to the burden of time?
Will I be witness to the ripples of this crime?
Is the storm to drown her in skies darkened blue?

Why is the savior the one to endanger?
Why is the heartsease the one heartbreaker?
Why is the kind spirit the true soul shaker?
Why is my best friend to become a stranger?

How can she lose against the clutches of temptation?
When was the divine cursed with humanity?
How could the listener speak with inanity?
When was our friendship twisted into damnation?

Will an invasive **** be victorious in his heist?
Is the **** to convince her of his illusive might?
Is he ******* her salve, to my abysmal fright?
Will I rot of envy from the disgraceful tryst?

Why is life’s story a destiny written in stone?
Why can’t I change the demise plagued within?
Why should her scent become my eternal toxin?
Why shall it degrade me from my flesh ‘til my bone?

How was I yearning for the bliss of her design?
When was I seeded with this addiction?
How was it dreamt into endless affliction?
When did Violet and Lost Girl begin to intertwine?

And did the lost girl tiptoed through the darkened fields?
Was her in search of the warmth of the sun’s yield?
Did she reach the water? Was it her escape?
Was a giant lily in the wait?
Was it a doomed attempt? No heat, no win?
Were her burdens too heavy? Did she sink in?
And forever bound, was this betrayal to restrain her way?
Or was it a promise of the past to save her day?
A poem made of questions...and an epilogue? Well, I tried something a little bit different here. The questions mark my confusion as to how someone I once called a friend began ignoring me and decided to abandon me after she began dating another person. I saw a change in her personality that made me crackle with abashment. It felt like she had never been candid with me. Still, as the epilogue shows, I sensed a glimmer of hope, and when I gave her this poem, we were finally able to talk about our relationship.
“Why did you do this for me?” He asked. “I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.” “You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte. “That in itself is a tremendous thing.”
- E.B. White Charlotte's Web

Blooming violet, ghost
Of the blonde sun.
Beauty of contrast.
The sun shines brighter
But not perceived by many,
The violet no longer hides
And eclipses the star with
Its heart shaped petals

Mythic essence, desired
By queens... emperors.
Her hidden power.
The might of Greece
Kneels down to her grace.
The flower of spring Persephone
Has chosen. Athens symbol.
Flower to fool Apollo

Withheld greatness, how
modest she is to all.
The gift of Humility.
The faithful flower painted
Timidly by the Bible’s artists,
Is occasionally too reticent
To glance at her kind spirit
And behold my rescue

Healing Heartsease, blossoming
Even before melting snow.
The soul savior.
Violet’s tender touch of protection
Softly soothing my skin.
The salve of my machine.
Her words, the river dam.
But ephemeral is the scent.  

Friendship essence, sweet
Magic wholly consuming me.
Tolkien of love.
How elegantly and delicately her
Colors dance and sing with the wind,
To engender the Victorian praxis
Binding us both with thoughts
Occupied by timeless bliss.

Elegant royal, spiritual
Guide of my fortune and good judgment.
Muse of twilight.
For she finds me in cold calamity
And warms my hand through the abyss.
Stargazing, I dream of hope, clarity and
To be born anew. She left her nectar.
Early morning emerges in delight.
In the last poem of the second chapter, a new character is introduced. Violet is that friend that feels like she knows you deeply, even if you know each other only for months. But for a person who has lost and now feels invisible, how much of that new friendship is purely affectionate and not romantic?
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