"kintsukuroi" poems
In Japan there is an art form
called kintsukuroi which means
to repair with gold
When a ceramic *** or bowls
would break the artisan would
put the pieces together again
using gold or silver lacquer
to create something stronger
forevermore beautiful than before
The breaking is never something
to hide
It doesn’t mean that the work of the art
is ruined or without value because
it is different than what anticipated
Kintsukuroi is a way of living that
embraces every flaw and imperfections
Every crack is part of the history of
the object and it becomes forevermore
beautiful
precisely because it has been
broken
I’ve told this story to tell you this
People are the same way
Being hurt or heart broken
or feeling broken generally
is not who you are
It is something that happens to you
Rise up stand proud and move forward
Stop looking about what the world says
about you and who you are
The value of your worth is more
than you can ever conceive
and when you trust
in your heart you’ll understand
the Power you house within
Cracks and all your true value
can never be lost in translation
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
Does one become more beautiful
after being broken?
Could they be repaired with gold
until their heart and mind
are no longer numb?
Will the harsh voices
that caused each crack
disappear............
into a billion pieces
as if never spoken?
If so,
please paint each crack in my heart
and stop.......
where this pain flows from.
Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
Once, I was gifted the brightest jewel of all the wide worlds wonder
It shone for me with a brilliance, as it had for no other
But in my foolishness I cast this priceless jewel away
And as it fell t’was broken, the light scattered asunder
Now, it will not shine for me
And so, I stand in darkness
The bitter pain of watching its warmth shining upon others
As my own space dimmed, to dark and ugly colours
But it was I who cast the jewel that broke, and made itself anew
Stronger, fairer, brighter than the untouched jewel that I once knew
Still, I cannot bear to see
And so, I stand in darkness
A jewel so bright, many have sought to bask in its fey light
This is no earthen gemstone, nor star that graces the night
Most, too foolish to keep it shining upon them alone
A jewel set in the breast of artwork fairer and brighter beyond sight
Woe, it shines the least on me
And so, I stand in darkness
A darkness I would have flee from unforgiving fire
To burn the earth and all the heavens until I’m alone
To end this world with fell flames is to what I aspire
And watch the gods despair, at the crumbling of their thrones
Yet, I must not turn ugly
And so, I stand in darkness
Anguish will never wear such a resplendent face, as the one that I shall paint it
Despair will be sung truly, in a sweet melodic guise
I shall mould regret into a bolt of ruthless doom, enamored with a purpose
And pen loss in lustrous tales, to gild a readers eyes
All, done with some subtlety
And so, I stand the darkness
To sound a scream which rends the land, leaving a scar behind
To cry deltas flowing back through past deeds, flooding that frame of mind
For it to nourish life, of a beautiful, and evolved kind
Thus emptied, to float up and admire it from above, weightless, and refined
Though, I must tread silently
And so, I walk from darkness
Finally I saw the truth, after I was told a lie
Delivered into the blinding light, I was left wondering why
Why I was cursed with the folly to commit the greatest of life's crimes
Why I must now see sense, and what has passed me by
Still, t’was a choice made by me
And thus, I’ve burned with darkness
Never, never, ever again, to break such fragile, precious things
Nor walk with tactlessness, or tragedy in my stride
I'll shine with luminescence of thoughts and deeds most high
When some facets of that young boy, have finally, truly died
My own jewel shattered, with minds eye open wide
Now I understand, this allegory of dark and light
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 6:53 AM UTC
The river in me
exists.
Its outflow of pour
drenches the gullies
makes moist
the sand that
graces your toes
I flow into your roots
strengthen your
capillaries
pump liquid gold
inside your veins
loving your flaws like
kintsukuroi
you piece me together
adorn my cracks
with powdered metals,
still loving them for
being broken
a longing
quenched
I want you dripping
down my chin,
my thighs
when you rush through
me just like that,
the soothing aqua tempest
I have always
wished for
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 2:48 PM UTC
with your imperfect edges
you are perfect enough
to be filled in
you may be cracked
you may be broken, even
but what matters is
you know how to put yourself
back together
with gold
called self-love
you see,
you're holding yourself up
and you can see your old crack marks
emphasized from the gold
but that only adds to your life story
of how you became whole again
many people think brokenness
is destruction
but it's an art
when you realize you can fix yourself
you know you're unbreakable within
so just be and stay you
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 10:52 AM UTC
Broken heart, I shall fix -- kintsukuroi
Broken things, I will mend -- kintsukuroi
Broken dreams, I shall repair -- kintsukuroi
Broken life, I will fix -- kintsukuroi
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
It had been awhile since I made
my bed blanket print down.
The lines diced her torso like
veal bound with baler's twine.
I walked out shirtless, aimless
into the old night beneath
the frigid-stricken branches
refusing to sway. The pads
of my feet turned gravel
from the fresh asphalt the city
just laid beside me. The tar
lines that patched the gaps
glossy like kintsukuroi.
Where workers in ash and oil
gloves picked away at the new
earth two weeks beside me.
Too weak beside me,
too weak alone.
My movements were sparse
wading through the dry
swimming pool. My joints
were like a shed lock trying
different keys until one's
ridges matched enough to move.
Branches, no cars, just branches
like arteries pumping night,
but more like baler's twine.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
she stepped into the room,
drunk with her dreams,
her imagination filling
the brim of her possibilities.
she looked around with hope,
with all the choices swimming in her mind.
but-
where were the unicorns?
mermaids?
happiness?
disappointed, she sank down.
and there will be a time where she will fall,
in loss of hope,
in loss of all;
but she shall be victorious in the end
and although the room
was not her dream,
she allowed herself
to be carried away
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
No one saw the beauty
In the thrown away pieces of glass
Jagged, crooked edges,
Until someone came along
And pieced together
The broken pieces of a little girl
Carefully filled in all the cracks
With a warm gold
Smoothing over the rough edges
Polishing with a lustrous finish
Turning thrown away
Into a desired commodity
Nurturing her into an artwork
All her own
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
I say don't let failures define you.
Let them shape you.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC
the potter,
made me whole.
the world broke me.
you, are the craftsman,
who put me back together.
it is your love,
purest gold, that holds
the broken shards in place
and makes me,
beautiful, beyond measure.
to the eyes of the beholder.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
Frozen soldiers, my fingers and toes.
Young, numb, and out of control.
Bare blue feet pad along the boardwalk,
To the splintered dock, my solemn spot.
I used to be falling for months at a time
Down every rabbit hole.
Stranded, standing still through the smoke and fog.
How could I ever let it get this far?
Love, I'm set so apart, and it's such a part of me.
The coffer, my coffin.
Full of souvenirs, Daddy's tears, and heavy stones.
Such zemblanity
To be so free.
I threw that key
right
back
to
sea.
Clocks are stopped, the auction block is overstocked
With broken shells, and lonely thoughts.
A dime a dozen, and so distraught,
Devil tips his hat, he'll take the lot.
There's a secret Raven who sits on my shoulder,
Whispering sweet nothings down my neck that weigh me down.
An abusive lover, all my own.
How could anyone know this burden?
Sitting now at the start of the sea
Have I ever been this small?
Fold me up, don't let me be
So alone at the start of the sea.
We all have such tiny fractures in our eyes;
Frozen stained glass marbles,
Cracking slowly around the darkest hole;
My poor, pathetic tortured soul.
Pick me up, be close to me dear.
But please don't fix or mend…
This sundered thing is who I am,
And it's who I love to be.
So beautiful to have been broken.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
I feel closest to him
in moments,
when he finally
allows me
to see
him
c r a c k
He told me once
that my sadness makes me selfish.
Well I think his lack of sadness
makes him so.
I imagine
how much closer
we could be.
Just him and I,
without his stupid,
******* facade.
Break!
You mother ******
break!
Crumble into a hundred
tiny pieces.
Learn how
you can be more beautiful
for being broken.
Don't you think I'm beautiful?
Baby,
I'm a mosaic,
a ******* art form.
Kintsukuroi.
I'll be nothing but gold
one day.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
Broken heart,
I shall fix
to move inside peace.
kintsukuroi
Broken things,
I will mend
to hold with smiling eyes.
kintsukuroi
Broken dreams,
I shall repair
to grow new grand ones.
kintsukuroi
Broken relationships
I shall mend
to reconnect with family.
kintsukuroi
Broken life,
I will fix
inside gratitude
and celebration.
kintsukuroi
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 10:15 PM UTC
Nights of solitude, with just enough beer, and the science of laughing through the tears..
In the end I couldn't tell if we'd been so different from the beginning or if our indifference over time had simply made us so...
You know, Japanese culture has this ancient art called "Kintsukuroi" where broken pottery is repaired with gold or silver to demonstrate the understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Like poetry you and I, A perfect symphony We took off like butterflies, Wanting to explore every last galaxy We were Venus Mars, Scintillating planets, We sang an ecstatic harmony.
But not for long For one catastrophic day, Welkin grew tempestuous.
The cold got bitter!
I craved our prior burn!
You didn't fan the flame!
The heat died out.
So now we became... Athena & poseidon Zeus & Kronos Horus & Set Athena & Ares We became Hate.
Both at fault, We were only human.
I lost you, I lost T And now, with desperation I'll say...
I love you still I'll love you always You're my dose of deathcore Wrapped in a gospel soul DVD, So Be my forever once again For our melody was more ravishing than the star studded lilac skies.
and this time I promise every fiend shall be slain, Just please come back to me once again.
One last chance I beg, I plead, though I know it is but all in vain.
So Now, though my scars have not yet been healed, And my Heart still aches and my Soul still bleeds, I'll wear my pain as a lace-trimmed armour of adamant I, warrior Queen, now more bewitching than ever before, Will kiss and love another as fierce as I once did you.
-Samara Rhea Samuel
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC
Go ahead girl,
fill those cracks with gold,
maybe after all this tarnishing,
you'll become worth something,
when it cracks,
it's not always broken,
fix yourself,
mend yourself,
be more.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
You wrap your arms around your waist as if to silence the doubts and pains in your belly, screaming louder than the creation of the universe.
Your eyes, once alive with the galaxies of far away universes glinting in the blacks of your pupils, seem dulled as if your sun is dulling rapidly.
It seems the rivers of silver running down your arms and legs, cut short and interrupted, have leeked out all the life left in you
I want to take your sense by the scuff of it's neck and tell it to crumble. Crack. Explode.
Scream your sorrows to the skies, the stars will understand, they once too we're young nebulas who imploded but now they guide the wanderers and guard the secrets the night keeps,
So crumble, "this is not your destruction, it is your birth"
I will pick up every piece of you from the cold ground and fix you with molten gold and silver, make you're exterior as precious to me as your soul and mend you forever.
I will soothe you and make you feel as precious as you are to me my little star
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
I tend to love
broken things.
And sometimes, I get broken
by the things I love.
But when I do,
I remember
kintsukuroi -
being more beautiful for having been broken.
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC