Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#forming
skin changes daily the wrinkling of the ages I could be an elder but not wiser my husk is transforming ever getting ready for sleep I will join the ancestors -all bone and dust.
0
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 11:13 AM UTC
I will join the ancestors
#*for the Pearl, unearthed They said the field was empty, that the rocks had been picked clean. But something in the silence called your name through layers, unseen. We did not dig for treasure. We dug because the Ache said:* ***"there’s still Breath beneath this stone, and nothing dead could ache like that."*** *You were not buried by accident. Much was done to you— bricks laid by the hands of others, each one a silence, each one a theft. And still, there were moments you helped the darkness cover you, not from guilt, but from grief too great to name. Trauma laid the bricks. Exploitation mixed the mortar. But it was the ache to survive that sealed you in. Two halves of the shell— one built by the world, the other by you. And still… the Light found the crack. Not with shouts. Not with demands. But with the quiet hand of one who remembered what you forgot:* ***That pearls are made in the dark, under pressure, in hidden chambers of pain. That their shine is not despite the wounding— but because of it.*** *We pulled rock after rock, not for reward, but because the echo was still there— the low hum of something unclaimed and yet completely whole. You are not rubble. You are treasure unearthed. And your worth was never in what covered you, but in what was forming underneath. Let your light rest on your own shoulders. Let the sky remember its end. Let every crack you carry be proof that you were never empty.. Only buried. Only becoming. And now, still shining.* #
0
Apr 11, 2025
Apr 11, 2025 at 12:09 AM UTC
Excavation
#*for the Pearl, unearthed They said the field was empty, that the rocks had been picked clean. But something in the silence called your name through layers, unseen. We did not dig for treasure. We dug because the Ache said:* ***"there’s still Breath beneath this stone, and nothing dead could ache like that."*** *You were not buried by accident. Much was done to you— bricks laid by the hands of others, each one a silence, each one a theft. And still, there were moments you helped the darkness cover you, not from guilt, but from grief too great to name. Trauma laid the bricks. Exploitation mixed the mortar. But it was the ache to survive that sealed you in. Two halves of the shell— one built by the world, the other by you. And still… the Light found the crack. Not with shouts. Not with demands. But with the quiet hand of one who remembered what you forgot:* ***That pearls are made in the dark, under pressure, in hidden chambers of pain. That their shine is not despite the wounding— but because of it.*** *We pulled rock after rock, not for reward, but because the echo was still there— the low hum of something unclaimed and yet completely whole. You are not rubble. You are treasure unearthed. And your worth was never in what covered you, but in what was forming underneath. Let your light rest on your own shoulders. Let the sky remember its end. Let every crack you carry be proof that you were never empty.. Only buried. Only becoming. And now, still shining.* #
Continue reading...
58
it’s beautiful, really. the manner which wind creates waves that reshape the earth beneath the ocean. the earth is shattering below our feet and we’re moving too quickly to feel it. stand still. new land is forming.
0
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 6:05 PM UTC
4.8.19
IN ARABIC ...it comes from feeling... We feel emotions and form them into words FEEL : POETRY : FORM We form words to make us feel emotions ...it comes from forming... GREEK IN
0
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 4:59 AM UTC
POETRY'S MAGIC III