#23
A heart that burns with hate,
to pass this sea that has no name.
The sea's hate is deep— more than mine.
The sun and moon play hide and seek,
23 days— the same scene.
I cross the sea— in hope of a new me.
At last, I see the shore,
a grave, a quote:
"There is no love for a heart with no form"
Ash falls from my chest,
all my hate with no heart to burn.
I laugh at my end— the pair in the sky,
poisoning my eyes till my heart burns.
Raziel Vale
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 1:00 PM UTC
Another birthday comes.
And I'm grateful to my parents,
For they brought me to life.
They did so not just once,
But they pulled me back here,
And now I play the fife.
Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 1:30 PM UTC
Lord grant me the audacity.
To again be a 23 year old marshmallow
Partying every night at the campfire with a bunch of skewers.
The audacity
To feel outstanding
With an underdeveloped frontal lobe
Floating around in cherry bombs and Stroh’s
To survive being invincible and brave and strong enough to make bold and terrible decisions
And blessedly wake to another sunrise
Never grateful to be alive.
******* *****
How does anyone survive their early 20s.
Sheer audacity.
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 11:15 PM UTC
_I am_
Nothing more than something
Nothing less than anything
_I stand_ on the line between
My brightest fears and
my darkest strengths
Wind wakes a wanderer
Current flows through a sailor
_I have neither and I am neither_
Forward is bitter
Backward is foolish
Left and right, Death's disguise
Muddled clarity, invisible light
Multiple reflections,
Maybe it's broken glass.
_The cliff waits for my decision
But for now,
I STAND STILL._
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 12:12 PM UTC
At last
She stripped her fears away
and clothed herself with courage
No one could ever undress
There she goes
dressed in confidence
Head's up high, she knows
better and bold
At last
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 9:36 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, already wrote about this before: but can it be?
hung dislike in the air unspoken
the favors in the same feather interest leaves a heart broken
admitting an adornment lazily better than that
suspicion captains the dreamy sails been in moons and sat
hold up not that I forgot to mention seems
the remember you soulmated when crying belongs and screams
April smothered a sarcastic note that I humor like I flow like I do
not of him a think of the thinking a dumb pursue
because darling my whole existence fed on that all along
how could a world stance stars and align in one core wrong???
not that I die this crazy fate hate
at least been found on a irony of an abandoned twenty-third
-----ravenfeels
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 7:28 PM UTC
I survived a life-threatening,
Coma-inducing & memory-debilating
High-speed road accident in May ‘10.
I survived COVID12,
The SARS-COV12.
Now I even survived COVID19.
I, howsoever, know what I am.
I am a mortal. Perishable.
May 14, 2021
May 14, 2021 at 8:44 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, this number keeps haunting me---nice:]
spaced in faze spaced in shock
waiting for the hit of the clock upon us
jaded in here scattered in there
falling deeply into depths of despair
piles of threes and stashes in seven still unspoken fourteens
into the floors and walls of the magnificent heavens
count of one then a skip of a spree down
into curses of minutes in a bunch of twisted twenty threes
------ravenfeels
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 6:26 PM UTC
after this day he starts to disappear again
where minute by minute
day by day
he goes
back into his spot in the sky
where he lets me bask in his warmth
but he's greedy
not letting me fully encapsulate
the joy and delight he provides
by taking away a minute of his light
each day
hopefully he doesn't hide behind the clouds
on june 23
otherwise this poem is a waste
if one were to even call this a poem
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
Woeful glazes sitting idle
for is one meant to be burdening another,
And when the idleness
breaks free then all shall falter
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 5:44 PM UTC
dear quinn,
a magic eight ball
will never
tell you how
to be okay.
love,
quinn
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 1:00 AM UTC
I really wish
I was 23
Because then
I’d finally be free
Not really
I’d be pinned down
By worries
College degrees
Apartment fees
Anxiety
Oh wait
I have that already
But still
It’d be better
Or so it seems
Than being a kid.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
Blank yellow pages
Empty writing lines
Yet filled with thoughts
A poet at it's finest
A flower, Harnessed by the wind
Inspirational nothing
Words don't rhyme
Everything goes on, except time
My feelings, never fully good
And you'll never see through the eye of a true poet
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 2:42 AM UTC
It’s not a ranking or an achievement
As if far from the “top.”
It’s an advancement
Starting from the “first place”;
The greater magnitude being a positive progression.
It’s not even a race in the “first place.”
A dual-digit place marker can and should indicate you’re moving forward.
At this point, you meet the requirements and criteria
For adult access to many sights, tastes,
And times.
Of course, that’s not the ultimate cause of celebration
For being in [the] “23rd place.”
When you’re in [the] 23rd place, you’re in a comfortable position
And not necessarily at a crucial extremum of attention.
There will be those behind and those in front,
So, though you keep your own pace nevertheless,
To know you’re no longer in first place,
Yet not in last place of your course of path,
Means that you have some to teach
And still some who may offer pointers, tips, tricks, inspirations,
And the gift of encounter, however brief or long.
There are many who long to be in first place or last place
Because the extrema tend to get the recognition.
The important insight is to recognize that, not only do the numbers matter little,
But you can make them stand out, like the number 23.
There’s random selection, too, amid those spontaneous humor-goers,
And then there’s placement and fixation
With purpose, sincerity, and intention.
You’re 23 not solely based on record
Or coincidence;
You’re 23 because you lived out the previous age
In every way: what you missed, what you learned, what you offered,
And what you planted.
On your birthday and every day,
The newness longed for arrives in a time not desired or unwanted,
But at a time just right, which still causes waves of pain and waves of relief
Across space anyway. Happy Birthday Devin!
You’re in [your] 23rd place!
Celebrate this checkpoint!
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
Same old bed
Same old mess
Same old self,
same old, same old
...
Different time
Different expectation
Different people
Different connection
...
Trapped in the possessed power of the passed
memories
Those, who never asked
to
Different world
Different place
Unfamiliar stuff
Ahead of time
Out of rhyme
No one to blame
Aging on,
Here's your stick to find your path
in the dark
Shuffle on,
travel on
...
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
I watch the ache in my chest
for you
dissolve into a quiet whisper.
I rethink every decision ever made
as these memories are telling me a story
about my progress
as if it was someone else's
will I always stand inside the shadow of another?
will even my own not be enough company to keep me sane?
why do I love lonely but crave the embrace?
I'm watching my expression change,
with every single word I say
and every single thing I feel.
it seems it's all imagined,
the desire for infatuation
and lust and connection.
it's all just ego.
I am nothing but
a whisper in the ears of no one.
should I even speak at all
when my words don't mean anything to even me.
never have I been trusting.
and here I go-
coming undone again.
thinking the world of myself
but the world is ******
so that's counterproductive,
isn't it?
paradoxical contingencies
keep me awaking from these dreams.
go to sleep it's a nightmare
and wake up it's the same.
my vision is getting blurry
and my voice now shakes
from inadequacy.
I love every part of me
so how could this be happening?
my shadow laughs back at me,
reminds me I am the same girl I was
19 and addicted to things.
almost 23 and it's more of the same-
23 and I've lost almost everything.
so what's another 23 years?
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
An innocent born into darkness,
A life unknown to be so graceless.
A world without colour,
This life like no other.
Below the depths of this flesh,
A girl lives craving new breath.
Stolen was her beating heart,
Given to loneliness, consumed as a withered spark.
The biggest dreams swim in her mind,
The longest amount of time goes by.
A slave to abuse, a slave to misery.
Will she escape from the chains to find victory?
Fortitude is what she seeks,
Peace and love is what she needs.
A life ready to begin and restart,
Her life ready to fight her way through the dark.
A journey has started, her journey awaits.
An adventure she'll recall,
has her saving grace.
“Arise” she screams,
“Arise and be...”
“Arise and be all that you dreamed!”
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
The yuppies are by the
Cotto Café, asking those
not to call them hipsters.
An auburn feminist drinks
Mexican blend, black, while
reading Margaret Atwood.
I gave up smoking, I say,
about a month ago.
No one really listens, which
I sometimes find comforting.
After I walk my isolation off,
I stumble into a Taco Bell;
one of those hybrids: this time
KFC. The cashier is curly in the
way that broken legs are curly.
Her eyes are green but I dare
not objectify her, I hope I don't
say out loud, because I fear
nothing more than being
patronizing.
Construction loudly stutters
and cars squeak and shush.
On this griddle of a sidewalk,
I feel alone. Vehicles vroom
while I stand silent, a monument
to my generation.
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
Bottle of Tums on the end-table
surrounded by an imprisoned fan;
a lava lamp of antacids, cornered by dead precious-metal presidents.
Some greying ceramic **** matriarch
has a bulb sprouting out of her head,
radiating fat yellow on the olive corner, also onto the loveseat.
I say, I should read.
I say, People don't like
one another, anymore.
She says, I want to be a doctor.
Work with animals, she said,
Help pets and people.
Days go by like the shush
following blurs of traffic.
Am I aging too soon;
Am I important enough
to care.
Try to sell me some
Pyramid Scheme ****
the man my age does--
the kid--
He wants sixty-five for
off-brand perfume. No way.
How about, he looks around,
the manager's discount: twenty.
I say no. I'm sorry. I can't help you.
He says no. He's sorry. He can't help himself.
An American filmography:
A Thief in Brooklyn, 1997,
Dirk Diggler Productions,
A 20 y/o man breaks into
apartments, stealing pills
from the elder renters.
Ghost Before Sundown, 2003,
Marythrone Image,
A woman suspects she is
a ghost and tries to come to
terms with never succeeding
in life.
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 8:27 PM UTC
Be the reason I don't drink;
the oil in the lamp, car, pores.
Help me realize rock-bottom
in your backseat; two lovers
in a car on a cliff, watching
the dark brown sugar shores.
I gave up smoking like
it was my child. I couldn't
hold what was killing me,
no matter how smooth, mild.
And I can't hold this baby;
this burden bruising my bladder.
I told my father I wanted an abortion,
he said, "In this country,
your choice does not matter."
Be my reason, Pre-born;
not yet breathing; not yet
crying; not yet teething;
not yet amorous; not yet alone;
not yet loveless; not yet a stone
sinking far, sinking deep
in an ocean of heavy sleep
where you ignore my decision;
my ****** tells; my existence;
where your father is God
and erases all frowns; where
his presence suggests that he
created your hair, your smile,
your sounds; Where he is
responsible for the oil in
your lamp, car, pores; where
my only purpose was in a car
overlooking sugar brown shores.
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
Conservatives cannot admit
that the White Nationalists were wrong
"But what about Black Lives Matter.
But what about the Alt-Left.
But what about what Fox News said.
But what about what our ******* cartoon of a president said."
Think for yourself.
You are feeling bad for Neo-Nazis.
They killed people.
They have a history of killing people.
They would **** everyone that isn't white.
This country has become disgusting.
A large portion is defending the actions of terrorists.
White Nationalists, ISIS--
They are, literally, the same.
You cannot be peaceful
when it comes to Nazis.
By sympathizing with them,
you are condoning them and creating more.
The only good **** is a dead ****
Be a ******* person,
think for yourself,
recognize true evil
when you see it,
you brainwashed *****
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:50 PM UTC