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

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 *******,
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.

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

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

I say don't let failures define you.
Let them shape you.

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.

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.

From malleable clay,
with his own hands
the potter made a bowl,

Only one day the bowl broke.

What would you do
if you were the potter?

Would you consider repairing it?

Would you throw it away?

Would you repair it,
but also elevate it to a
whole new level of appreciation?

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

KINTSUGI

I'm a kintsukuroi  
type of guy

a wabi-sabi
mellow fellow

a mushin state
of mind.

I celebrate the brokenness
love the absences

embrace the missing
pieces

turning loss
into gold

the cracks in this
broken object of a heart

merely part
of the craic

life as she is
lived.

The broken bowl
of the soul

more beautiful
because of its brokenness.

as I said I'm a kintsukuroi  
type of guy.

Whole is me. Whole is you.
Seek not for outside confirmation
of a little whisper of praise from another.
Too many have become dependent on it.

But rather remember,
we are whole.  We are perfect
inside a vessel of imperfection.
kintsukuroi

We /You are a perfectly orchestrated
of spirit in motion,
breath, moment, and human form.

For when you look into heart all of self is Divine,
worthy, and abundant with love in heartbeats,
that can be the compass to dreams.