#marks
for AV
the irony noticed asap, but the poem notion irritant
was too nouveau, had to ripen~fester before it plucked
sufficiently at my unconscious with Now! I am ready for
a vine ripe picking, un beau joulais
this fascination about, how we self-categorize,
our wisdoming perspectives when looking up, or
looking down, trying to grow, and not to drown, as the
new advances come at us as fast as a new memory chip,
faster than our logged but fading Ancien Régime
memories disappear, the definition of ancient, is me,
and yours, will be additive, grow as you witness changes that
me and the grave will happily successfully avoid
perspective is a two way continuum, just please
keep on being an almost ready red tomato,
still absorbing sun and knowledge like the fields
of sunflowers of Provence, between Carpentras and Avignon…
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 9:07 AM UTC
All the scabs have flaked off,
leaving traces of wounds,
stitched silent.
All that's here now are faint scars,
phantoms of pain,
that still lingers beneath the skin.
Little marks,
proof,
that things were bad,
at some point.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 11:41 AM UTC
And there lay the book’s ripped pages
Now stained blood-red
Jingles and rivers of thoughts
Fills my busy head
I throw my words,
But they sink and fall like a rock
And through everythig,
They continued to mock
“I’m sure you got a hundred,
You’ll be fine”
When all I really got was a 99
Yet I knew that was enough
And apparently others thought that too
But it wasn’t enough
Too show how smart I was as proof
Because in reality,
My mind is never still
Through the thoughts of worries and stories
Continuous headaches
Solved with anything but advil
The feeling of defeat
Is a daily routine for me
As nothing makes me feel better
The comfort
The Marks
They all hurt me.
Oct 27, 2025
Oct 27, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
these stories we wear –
scars,
stretchmarks,
wrinkles,
are wrongly labelled
as imperfections.
but aren’t they such beautiful,
courageous signs
of how we have lived?
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 12:58 PM UTC
“Limits, like fears, are often just an illusion"
- Mr. Michael Jeffrey Jordan
in His H O F Speech ender
And the icon Himself followed His own Quotes in saying
... Never Say Never !
And SO do i
- solEmn oaSis
© today 2025
my First Last day in here
facing the outgoing
February after Leap Year
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 11:04 PM UTC
Pieces of a woman
Gloom, glee, distance and intimacy
Attitude, gratitude, strength and vulnerability
Heartbreaks, Happiness, Longingness and poetry
Calmness, boldness and a bad *** stree.
Pieces of a woman
Stretch Marks, cellulite, miscarriages and then bossy
Shallow, Intense, blur and then some glossy
Cute, cheerful, lazy, sane and naughty
Benevolent, bizarre, shy and much hotty
Pieces of a woman
Family, friends, kin, acquaintances
Risk, safe and then out of the world chances
Society, sub-urb,rural and them glances
Some music, some writing, some shying and couple dances
Pieces of a woman
Marriage, adoption, career and grace
Clarity,focus,concentration and haze
Red,green, black, purple and beige
Independence, freedom, self-doubt and cage
All this and endless…..
And then some and then some
Nothing can totally define
The ultimate human
The beautiful, the wonderful
Pieces of a woman.
Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 2:31 PM UTC
I don’t understand why you love me
I don’t think I ever will
where I see stretch marks
because my stomach swelled
you see change
where I see scars
because life was too much
and I needed to release some of the agony inside me
you see healing
where I am disgusted
you are patient
and sit with me in my pain
and ask to hold my hand
I don’t understand why you love me
I don’t think I ever will
but I understand that you do
and even when your love is beyond me
and I am scared of it
I will be patient
and I will sit with you in my discomfort
and ask to hold your hand
Feb 27, 2022
Feb 27, 2022 at 11:47 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the grass is not green:)
too much to bare
the polar twins resemblance in no fair
now the run I understand
still the twist of burning faces is what I can't
ran wind free
a second of nothing but me
the blonds in uniqueness stand under the red light
wait until the fear cripples and the big dog bites
the tea boiling somewhere for no one to drink
the ruined building leaves a pile to think
pupils dilate
thoughts shrink swallowing the bate
yet the crowd remains
I shower in public and fingerprints don't stain
a red rock star barks
stage shakes and throats are mic marked
nice dreams but crap
the plutonian not funny when children under your feet you have
-------ravenfeels
Jul 1, 2021
Jul 1, 2021 at 10:23 AM UTC
Day after day,
Night after night,
I am struggling more,
I can't see the light.
It's a funny little thing,
The thing stuck in my mind.
How could I ever think,
That there was a love I could find.
I wonder sometimes,
What others would say.
They would see the scars,
And they would walk away.
Every single day,
It gets darker.
The darkness leaves a mark,
Just like a marker.
Day after day,
Night after night,
I am struggling more,
I can't see the light.
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC
It's been another good day,
good thinkers thinkin' my way, asking if I knew
what was the next word
from the beginning,
and I confess,
to knowing,
it depends,
hangs dangling from a done right axiom,
intentional aim at nothing,
then divide by zero…
this is that, life line upon line, here,
a little there,
there
there is a better, a least, the minimum flex,
and next is after never was,
and once morer never seems
impossible to grasp, almost as futile as
holding the wind
I walked in on,
in a metaphor of reasoning, where war is dumb.
Dumb dumb dumb, did you ever
do you
ever,
for an instance feel this way, and wonder what if
others felt
this way,
in stead, eh, steady, slow, instead of I know, go
--- later they say waddayagnosis came upon 'em
--- swallowed all their holy stories in one
boom. like thunder, loud, like mountain,
Krakatoa, yes, but death to the dinos LOUD
listen,
this is silence, the noise, hearing nothing while
knowing, knowing, knowing
in the bubble I breathe are all the noise-sounds-humms
squeeks,
whistles, caws that sound like laughing,
hawks screaming I can see you, to something,
you flash glance think
you, that hawk has seen me here, in years past,
this season of multiple thaws,
multiple springs,
rivulets cross our path as we read our way into evermore,
the valley just beyond, like
right next door,
special place… can you hear me, feel me… I have
no right might to say I know, but you know,
that is the trick. Theory of mind, I know you wonder if
I ever knew… the first rung
step up,
once more the alien lure, come and see…
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 4:26 PM UTC
Sometimes
when I look in the mirror
i'm startled to see
me
When
I scrub off the pen lines
odd bits of makeup
all that's left is me
I stand there
bare and trembling
these are the pieces of me
and maybe I'm starving
but at least
I can feel myself smiling
because
these are the marks of my survival
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
There are memories attached,
With each day, I keep re-living,
Years go by, it does not matter.
There are things I keep feeling,
Your absence does not bother.
I see the marks your feet leave,
You wander but not that farther,
Away from me, here is my plea,
That on days like these i miss,
A piece of myself taken from me.
I am stuck in this lapse of time.
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
It can be beautifully awful
or awfully beautiful
with so many hurtful memories
and untold stories
but mostly are depressing and
unwanted marks of the past
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 12:28 PM UTC
****** or Heroine?
by Michael R. Burch
(for mothers battling addiction)
serve the Addiction;
worship the Beast;
feed the foul Pythons
your flesh, their fair feast ...
or rise up, resist
the huge many-headed hydra;
for the sake of your Loved Ones
decapitate medusa.
Keywords/Tags: drugs, addiction, user, ****** needle, tracks, marks, pain, despair, recovery
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
"It'll heal someday,"
That's what they all say.
But I don't think they realize that some scars,
Don't just leave with the stars.
How can I hope that it'll heal,
If I can't even seem to admit how I feel?
You marked me,
And now I'll never be free.
May 15, 2020
May 15, 2020 at 10:49 AM UTC
The stretch marks on my thighs prove that I am a descendant of the mermaids and the gods.
They shine and appear light on my skin like how the sunlight dances on the top of the water.
They are signs that my body has endured and will continue to survive as the world moves on.
They weave across my skin like the beginning of a beautiful tapestry that will only become complete in time.
Learning to love myself again is hard, but my naked body is slowly becoming mine again.
The stretch marks are art on my skin, my own natural tattoos.
Let them show.
May 15, 2020
May 15, 2020 at 1:08 AM UTC
An unsettled feeling twists in my gut, as I think of everything I haven't done. Every ounce, fragile pound of weight set upon my bones, leaves me lethargic. There is more to my life than work. My friends are embodiments of love, that God or whoever made us, gave to ease our pain. I am caught in the joy of movement. The joy of travel. The idea that escapism is enough. But how do you escape your own brain? How do you escape your own body? This life is what you make of it. But I want to know what made me. Am I truly in control? Or is this all some sort of sick joke? My thoughts are made up of question marks. But question marks do not give me answers. And what if I get the answers I want but they don't settle right with me?
What if this life is made up of more than question marks?
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
I am a walking talking PSA for the incorrect way to live
Number of dollars in my bank account matches how many ***** I give
Counting change
Pay for gas so I can go to work
I get stuck behind the transit again
I'm gonna go berserk!
A little ****
Start my day
..Or more like a lot
The location of my pipe I've somehow forgot
Mismatched socks
Greasy hair
Bloodstains on jeans
For breakfast had coffee and a bag of jellybeans
Bearing ***** nails and even dirtier mind
A hole in my pantseams right in the behind
Positive thinking not doing me any good
Failed everything I have tried believing I could
Negative thinking has not worked either
Applied both
Found success in neither
The marks humans left on skin and my feelings
Turned my pride into a pile of peelings
Where am I going?
Haven't a clue
Trying to climb out of the hell I fell into
Going crazy searching for an escape route
That does not exist because there's no way out
Dec 6, 2019
Dec 6, 2019 at 7:59 AM UTC
I’m so hot...
I’m burning up
Burning out...
Wearing jackets
Sleeves
Anything to hide the marks
Prevent their discomfort
At the cost of my own
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 6:57 PM UTC
The mirror holds my memories. I scan my body and relive the beauty.
I see the evidence of your mouth on my skin;
I remember the sharp sting of your teeth on my *******
The ache as your large hands squeezed my ******* until I arched up into your palms.
The bite mark on my inner thigh reminds me of how my screams sound over the hungry noises you make when your mouth devours my center.
The bruises on my hips are a record of the moment when my ride became too much and the spasms of my ****** pulled you over the edge.
The soreness of my muscles are a testament to the fact that once will never be enough.
You leave your mark - a branding of ownership for all to see. I bask in the glow of being yours and wonder how long you will keep me this time; wonder how long before you throw me away again for something better.
03NOV2019
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 3:03 PM UTC
I got myself tattoed
On the places
You used to leave
Love bites on
The bitter sweet marks
I wish i could relive
But has already come to an end
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC