#shapeless - Hello Poetry

"Maybe when I'm older it will all come down but it's killing me now.” What am I to cling on, if even the evanescent waft fails to remain intact? A shaft of ineffable dread strikes me. I appealed to my little nook of nonchalance, the insular of words i dwell upon whenever needed. The gentle riptide of another life-wayfinder found me well, gratefully before the mental stress saps the strength. He's at peace with himself yet at odds with the world, Whereabout reads. It resonates with my subconsciousness, for I fathom it as a tactic of abiding all the unideal, if only I were dare to live with this insurgency. In the ambient voices riddled with glib claims, pros and cons, I’m trembling, unconvinced. In the seat reserved for me and only for me, i clenched to the sentience excluded for me, excluded for my presence at the site at the moment. The lachrymose baby disturbs and retunes the shapeless stillness that has kept me sane. I've grown acquainted with malaise. I frame it as perennial. Lament not, the crowd stays blind of what my feelings of mind afford me. “Free is feeling they can’t take from you.” Seats away the window left me a last gate that opens to the outside world, the residue of experience, springing. Clouds scudded by, too slow, too quick. The sky was dissolving in pink and blue, a hue that consoles passenger of all kinds. Until the tilt was steered too high to see the realm not yet darkened, as if the sun departed upon the same lane as the flight did. Unpredictable weather, unconjugatable caprice.

0

Sep 28, 2025

Sep 28, 2025 at 2:18 PM UTC

EvelynYiningChen

Speciousness Ep.2

"Maybe when I'm older it will all come down but it's killing me now.” What am I to cling on, if even the evanescent waft fails to remain intact? A shaft of ineffable dread strikes me. I appealed to my little nook of nonchalance, the insular of words i dwell upon whenever needed. The gentle riptide of another life-wayfinder found me well, gratefully before the mental stress saps the strength. He's at peace with himself yet at odds with the world, Whereabout reads. It resonates with my subconsciousness, for I fathom it as a tactic of abiding all the unideal, if only I were dare to live with this insurgency. In the ambient voices riddled with glib claims, pros and cons, I’m trembling, unconvinced. In the seat reserved for me and only for me, i clenched to the sentience excluded for me, excluded for my presence at the site at the moment. The lachrymose baby disturbs and retunes the shapeless stillness that has kept me sane. I've grown acquainted with malaise. I frame it as perennial. Lament not, the crowd stays blind of what my feelings of mind afford me. “Free is feeling they can’t take from you.” Seats away the window left me a last gate that opens to the outside world, the residue of experience, springing. Clouds scudded by, too slow, too quick. The sky was dissolving in pink and blue, a hue that consoles passenger of all kinds. Until the tilt was steered too high to see the realm not yet darkened, as if the sun departed upon the same lane as the flight did. Unpredictable weather, unconjugatable caprice.

4

As a song without words- Shall I sing, forevermore? These shapeless chords That give way to convey Statement, free from form. Much the same as one who Must scream, yet is unable?

0

Feb 2, 2024

Feb 2, 2024 at 4:49 PM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

Not Otherwise Specified

As a song without words- Shall I sing, forevermore? These shapeless chords That give way to convey Statement, free from form. Much the same as one who Must scream, yet is unable?

7

driving over these blue lines is like bridges without arched triangles— your arched and aching triangles.

0

Mar 23, 2018

Mar 23, 2018 at 11:55 PM UTC

narvik_snow

driving has the shape of you

driving over these blue lines is like bridges without arched triangles— your arched and aching triangles.

4

Let me escape in to the night, Dance with the Northern Lights Flow in the universe without shape or form, i miss the magic i miss the mystery in the everlasting unknown

0

Feb 6, 2018

Feb 6, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC

Ronahi

Unknown

Let me escape in to the night, Dance with the Northern Lights Flow in the universe without shape or form, i miss the magic i miss the mystery in the everlasting unknown

7

I was made from the same batch and everyone was cut into cookies fun shapes, all different sizes and the leftover pieces took no shape at all and so I didn't get to join them in their journey to become what they truly are.

0

Nov 7, 2016

Nov 7, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC

sarahsunshine777

table scraps

I was made from the same batch and everyone was cut into cookies fun shapes, all different sizes and the leftover pieces took no shape at all and so I didn't get to join them in their journey to become what they truly are.

8