#poeticvoice
Words: sword Breath: shield
My breath in words— is a pause,
before a line cuts deep; it could pierce
skin… I let it wait for a worthy moment.
Give me a moment to compose—
poet with a baton, writing in the right
key; the door only twists if it fits.
The silence of the yard:
field of responses, kept in the backyard.
A mouth wide open; but where others
spit, ***** stain…
I water, filter, and maintain.
Apr 6
Apr 6, 2026 at 3:46 PM UTC
Rollercoasters; rolling coasts across an emotional
spectrum; coast to coast the backside of a speck—
:a kick to the ****** to wreck them
into perspective.
Message of advice? I text them— but these notes
note me more than they help them; self-addressed
envelopes, stamped with things I never said out loud.
Maybe I’m just a noun— or a verb mid-becoming,
with too many adds before I add up, add-ons—
advertised into an adverb, modified by everything
that modifies me.
Adding verbs to sentences, trying to sentence
a word from the Word; naming meaning like I own
it… like language won’t one day outgrow me.
Faith-full. Hope-full. Grace-full—
until I lessen them… faith-less, hope-less,
grace-less— suffix stripped, self-slipped.
Up and down this rollercoaster— no safety bar
for the soul; just loops of who I was trying not
to throw up who I am.
Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 5:23 PM UTC