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Out of the night that covers me,
     Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank my God, King Christ, for He
     Has come and conquered, O, my soul.

Clutched by a fate that's felt like chance,
     I've winced and wept and cried aloud.
Under the gaze of God, my stance
     Is on my knees.  My head is bowed.

Beyond the place of wrath and tears,
     Where Death casts shadows, shade on shade,
The menaces of bygone years
     Are disappeared.  My debts are paid.

My gait's as strait as heaven's gate,
     My way as narrow as a scroll.
Christ is the master of my fate.
     Christ is the captain of my soul.
Compare 'Invictus' by Ernest Henley
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
Maria Mitea
i close my eyes
to see you i close my eyes,
the world suddenly is leaving
entirely
is leaving, of its  own accord, is leaving,
    is falling like an eyelid, tired
on the keys of a piano, the stillness of the morning covers us,  white
white,
bleached by the winter, waiting for the pious sound,
waiting
for the snowdrops to bloom
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
irinia
hear
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
irinia
hear listen to the sound
of the crisp snow spinning the air
say hello where are you
say farewell to the old moon
while rivers are carrying their quiet darkness
and all the poems untouched
by emptiness
remake or retake
get drunk with lucidity
get high as the wind passing through
untold stories
Out of gratefulness came gracefulness.

A grateful being makes
a graceful being.


Shell ✨🐚
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Logosophiamag.c­om
Hellopoetry.com
Fellowshipandfairydust.com

                  ­    Corporal Karamazov Flies Home from the War

                                           “Which war?”

                            “Your war – there’s always a war.”

Every young reader sees Alyosha in himself
A sensitive mystic, misunderstood by most
Questing for an answer to a question unasked
Politely shown the door by Father Zosima

As Old Karamazov? Impossible
53 is an age of antiquity
As Dimitri, Ivan, and Smerdyakov?
They are unable to sort out themselves

Lost in thought in a contract airline seat:

A 22-year-old just two days off the line
A patriarchal colonialist ideologue
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
Infamous one
S61
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
Infamous one
S61
Meet a nice girl who's not materialistic
Someone accepting that
Doesn't change anything about you
Open to grow together feel like an equal
Not be submissive or treat one bad for power
Something natural not forced rewarding
Not soul ******* and toxic with an ego
Seems easy but it's complicated most of the time
 Jan 2023 Eloisa
Maria Mitea
i just found out today that on poemhunter.com
on the 26th of January, The Child of The Sun was selected as the  POEM OF THE DAY:
and this makes me very very happy  🙂

The Child of The Sun

it is a shadow,

of the tree
dark lighting
at the zenith of the day, tasting
the sweat on the man's forehead

the child of the sun
it is a shadow

of grass
opaque existence
angle of light
in the calmness of the earth

the child of the sun
it is a shadow

silently
following the man, to the water spring
in the valley of springs

the mother sun
quenches its thirst
with the tears of the earth

the child of the sun
it is a shadow
🙂 Last week, I had some thoughts about me giving up on writing, that it is a waste of time, and that there are more important things to do, but today I received this message, and I am wow. My eyes popped out like onions.
In the last 3 years I have been devoted, waking up every morning at 4:30-5am, writing whatever was coming, whatever my psychic was breathing out over the night, without questioning, I was there waiting for the invisible, facing it, receiving it as a gift and converting it into poems.
and today seeing this I am like a newborn, and I receive the message like ”the show must go on, baby ...:)”


So, in the end, the truth is that everyone needs a drop of appreciation from somewhere. We are creatures of receiving appreciation and love! No matter what we do as work, or create, in us, we carry the need to know that there out, somewhere in this world is someone appreciating what we do, invent, or imagine. There is no other way ...
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