#tobecontinued
Writing poems is an emotional outlet
Any feeling I experience, good or bad,
Needs to be released
Poetry is the release
My emotions bubble up and expand
Which can be harmful
Writing poems when I'm having strong emotions
Is an outlet
Releasing pent up feelings to deal with them
Writing poems helps when I have big emotions
That could lead to dangerous outcomes
It's a healthy coping skill
When the bad thoughts come creeping in
I'm writing three poetry books
Right now, for different feelings
Poetry is like therapy
Except it's free
Dark thoughts, happy thoughts, anxious thoughts
Can all be translated into poetry
So versatile and beautiful poetry is
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 4:00 PM UTC
Writing stories is a creative outlet
Some stories are based on my emotions to create a scene
A thought will pop into my mind,
And a story begins to formulate
Words will flow onto a page
And soon enough a story emerges
Settings and characters will spring to life
With scenes erupting around it
Romance and fantasy and royalty
Creating stories is relaxing
Something to help unwind with
Or when I have free time
Scenarios and dialogue flowing in my brain
Just aching to be put on paper
My imagination runs wild
And worlds form inside my head
Writing brings me joy and makes me feel free
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 4:00 PM UTC
Have you ever loved something so much
That without it your soul feels empty
Well, I have and for me it's writing,
Writing stories and writing poetry
Writing has been a love of mine since childhood
I was introduced to it by alternative teaching
Where I learned about poetry instead of phonics
It sparked a passion in me about writing
It quickly became a loved subject
Then it turned into my future career
I want to be an author and a poet
That way I can do what I love for work
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 4:00 PM UTC
hark! I am greeted by angels
each with devil horns and
spikes in their backs
blackmailing my feet to lead me
where?
away from from the shining seas
twinkling eyes and fluttered eyelashes
fare thee well in these trying times
they screech at me from
their balconies
all I can do is cry
deep in my hands
cracking my nose with my knuckles
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
Epiphany
_____________
Years.. I've spent on the people that I loved once, putting them first before my own self.. Self... WOW... Mistakes were made, it was too late.. when i realised, but I still Recognised... Through the foggy days and thunderous nights,
Time doesn't change nor does it change you, only you, your self, your own consciousness and self awareness is what allows you to adapt and change by self by observing the true reality, only through the eyes of your own,
When I think, am surrounded by the thoughts of possibilities which are pushed aside, not focused on and neglected like life... Make me wonder times I spent in the past, years go by and I look and still ask my self who am I?
A purpose we all live for to survive , some do well so don't.. But it all depends on how we approach opportunities in life, its how we do it it's how we survive... To be Continued...
Final moments of Life = 10/07/2025 - 18:52
_______________________________________
The Final Curtain / Lights of Life
Walk away they said, nothing can be done again they said,
Giving up wasnt an option, hold on tight and realise they said
as this RollerCoaster will not stop untill the light at the end of the tunnel shine bright and takes us to the peacful side.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
I recovered from the night again,
She had disappeared once more,
Was she using me as a ******
I was frustrated & also saddened,
My self-control got strengthened,
For I was not a tissue to be used!!!
I have my feelings & my emotions,
Presence and absence torture me,
Ego I had tamed got hurt by now...
I won't let that elusive Angel come,
Questioning I must be her realities,
Illusions will end this time finally!!!
I'll establish an identity of my own,
Dependent I'll not be on the angel,
Was she only a dream & no more???
I had duly asked the aged captain,
To search a lovely bride very soon,
Oh, so sure I am about afterwards...
I was tailed by the spirit-like angel,
So irritated by her dreary dreams,
On-off, came-gone, again & again!!!
I now would learn to catch angels,
With the plan, I went to the mage,
Should I now learn some spells???
I entered through a dark alleyway,
Was told to visit this strange place,
What comes across - I wondered...
I knocked the door & she appeared,
Very young she seemed to me now,
Just the age of the angel of dreams!!!
I noticed that she wore a long robe,
So shiny it was silvery like her hair,
Just like the angel of dreams wore...
I rubbed my tired eyes in disbelief,
"Who're you?" I asked very loudly,
"Are you the mage's daughter???"
I wondered for long & she replied,
"Your guess is correct, kind Sailor,"
She beckoned me into the shack...
I set my foot on the wooden floor,
I look for any sign of the mage,
I want to be set free of the cage!!!
I just thought & thought about it,
But the witch was not to be seen,
Curious I asked, "Where is she???"
"I am my mother," she said calmly,
Perplexed I couldn't say a thing,
My mouth opened once & shut...
I was now about to rise & go away,
But she stopped me with her arms,
"I must show you," so she did say!!!
I did not believe what my eyes saw,
How she changed into the old mage,
Then back into her own daughter???
O I had become confused a lot now,
Why would she transform like this,
I feared if it was actually the angel...
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
I have felt it
That flow that nature follows
In my feet darken with earth
Upon my hands the wind lays
Through the light that burns my eyes
I have seen it
In actions of man
Instincts of animals
Patterns in the clouds
Within myself
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
The voice inside her head said "do it"
The heart inside her chest refused
The instinct burned throughout her *****
But the daring part of her pursued...
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 12:34 AM UTC
The creaking and creeping sounds of the old, rotting house, hang in the background. The aged, hardwood floors; snap, crackle, and pop under the weight of my footsteps. The scent of burnt; cinnamon scented burnt candle wax, slighted tainted by the stench of cheap cigarette smoke lingers throughout the room spilling into the hallway.
The broken ceiling fan humming, as it rocks back and forth as if it will soon fall off of its axle.
The cigarette; still lite, hanging on the edge of the ash tray – smoke trails floating up towards the window, escaping as it’s pulled out of the window, dissipating off into the dark, cool, midnight air.
The alarming sounds of alley cats fighting; shrieks and high-pitch screams echo off in the distance. The loud hissing and screams suggest two cats, within close proximity to house, furiously fighting over freshly picked dinner scarps.
All starch in comparison to your disposition.
You wept that night, the tears pouring from your eyes, spilling into your tissue boxed; tucked closely beside you. Lip stick smeared To be Continued
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC