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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Break Me

How many times

can a heart get broken?

Once is enough.

Go and try.

Tease me.

Stab me.

Lie to me.

Break the bones in my body.

There's nothing left to break.

We only die once and

I am already dead.

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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Break Me
How many times
can a heart get broken?
Once is enough.
Go and try.
Tease me.
Stab me.
Lie to me.
Break the bones in my body.
There's nothing left to break.
We only die once and
I am already dead.
#poetry  #philosophy  #broken  #micropoetry  #fucklove 
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Written by JustJason40 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Infinity

Lifetime spent swimming against the growing tide

And the current continues to shift and lead us to new shores

Strange lands filled with buried dystopian nightmares

Dug up only to indulge those snorting fairy dust

Who in turn think it possible to shit rainbow miracles

But the acid trips do not give us quite the hallucinations they used to

Besides that you can now find infinity in a satellite dish

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Written by JustJason40 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Infinity
Lifetime spent swimming against the growing tide
And the current continues to shift and lead us to new shores
Strange lands filled with buried dystopian nightmares
Dug up only to indulge those snorting fairy dust
Who in turn think it possible to shit rainbow miracles
But the acid trips do not give us quite the hallucinations they used to
Besides that you can now find infinity in a satellite dish

#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Broken Hearts Heal

high walls surrounds

nothing escapes

not a murmur

nor a sound

reverberating silence

echoing loudly

bouncing off

hardened walls

imagine a ball

bouncing off

a padded wall

repeatedly

to and from

where the only sound

you'll hear

if you listen close

is a muted sound

as it bounces

from wall to wall

thud /

/ thud

thud /

/ thud

i strain to hear

that faint sound

but these ears

have grown deaf

to the beats

these hands have turned

calloused and tired

this heart has learned

to forget what

it meant to love

or how it felt

to be loved

time has been my friend

the only one that was

there for me

in between all the silence

i learned to count

the seconds slowly

until the emptiness

completed me

so i thrived

i learned

and i healed

to not have a heart

is the only way

to heal a broken heart

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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Broken Hearts Heal
high walls surrounds
nothing escapes
not a murmur
nor a sound

reverberating silence
echoing loudly
bouncing off
hardened walls

imagine a ball
bouncing off
a padded wall
repeatedly
to and from
where the only sound
you'll hear
if you listen close
is a muted sound
as it bounces
from wall to wall

thud /
/ thud
thud /
/ thud


i strain to hear
that faint sound
but these ears
have grown deaf
to the beats

these hands have turned
calloused and tired
this heart has learned
to forget what
it meant to love
or how it felt
to be loved

time has been my friend
the only one that was
there for me

in between all the silence
i learned to count
the seconds slowly
until the emptiness
completed me
so i thrived
i learned
and i healed

to not have a heart
is the only way
to heal a broken heart
#poetry  #philosophy  #brokenheart  #fucklove 
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Written by Soulhearts in portal Micropoetry

Arpeggio

You know that the strings are broken.

I have been trying to fix it for years.

I left it in a dusty corner.

Yet here you come strumming

out of tune chords.

Playing with my heartstrings.

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Written by Soulhearts in portal Micropoetry
Arpeggio
You know that the strings are broken.
I have been trying to fix it for years.
I left it in a dusty corner.
Yet here you come strumming
out of tune chords.
Playing with my heartstrings.
#poetry  #philosophy  #micropoetry  #fucklove 
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Write a haiku by reversing the rules as, 7/5/7 syllables instead of 5/7/5 syllables. Rhyme appreciated!
Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Haiku

a delusional fairy tale, and its final act --

A self-propelled tragedy

From her daydream plot

Verses felt by her alone

Thx @creativechaos :)

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Write a haiku by reversing the rules as, 7/5/7 syllables instead of 5/7/5 syllables. Rhyme appreciated!
Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Haiku
a delusional fairy tale, and its final act --
A self-propelled tragedy
From her daydream plot
Verses felt by her alone

Thx @creativechaos :)
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #sorryitdoesntrhyme  #CreativeChaos  #haikureversed 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

Coffee Break

He scored the magnitude of her enthusiasm, but it barely registered. Judging the worth behind her silence, often he found more sentiment in her noise. And walking alongside him on 2x4 bridges, she almost stumbled into the reflected sky. But instead of falling, she was swaddled. Stabilized by the serenity of the clouds passing below, she was able to continue on the path to its end.

"That bird over there --

The one with a red chest:

Listen."

The bird is sitting in the tree behind us, and its chattering prosody is noticeably familiar. Chords of melancholy are released on its song, and I am moved to transcribe the notes that are played.

It is like the twice-removed cousin you saw once at a funeral: nature is drawn to identify through instinctual recognition, but with the frequency remaining just foreign enough, we choose to disclaim it.

But all I can do now is watch you roll your cigarette. Your intention is careful. And it's mindful. It is as though you are handling the delicate petals of a Lotus. [Like the time we discussed the segments of an orange, and how they echo what is sacred.] And as I watch, I consider how many more cigarettes you could eventually roll if you had preserved all of the scraps you have dropped over time.

It feels like an angel is eavesdropping on us. Or maybe it is the sun. Hidden, its warmth is shy today, and I can relate.

There are too many scratchy fibers encasing this coconut skull to effectuate any thoughts with real meaning. I hear the fragments splash in its crowded vacancy, but the nonsensical order sounds like the white noise in a warehouse.

She loved to witness his intelligence. His transcendency was palpable, and she prayed it was contagious.

She moved closer to him on the bench because his mind was peyote and it felt good to get high.

Suddenly, I am flooded with curiosity about a stranger I sat next-to on the bus yesterday. Her ivory skin and red hair reminded me of spoken word. As we shuttled darkly beneath the retiring city, I stared at her feet which were crossed uncomfortably against her weight. She had a bumblebee tattoo on the top of her right foot. I wanted to ask her if she had a reason for choosing the right over the left. And I wanted to tell her that, as a spectator, it seemed she was subconsciously crossing her right over left in an attempt to avoid smashing her bug. But I decided to goof off on my phone instead.

Time is a wave: God jumping in the ocean as we assign linear meaning to its slow-motion burst, but, really, it is all just one Pollock mark on the surface of Earth. And then it is over.

I want you to write a poem about me. I want to see myself emerge from your flesh, and through your eyes. The thought of it excites and frightens me, all at once. I can't help but wonder if the bad will marble the good, or if the good will marble the bad. It really doesn't matter, either way. And it doesn't even matter how the verses unfold, or what metaphors are applied.

I know that you love me.

And you --

Love me in a way that

One-dimensional words

Could never describe.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
Coffee Break
He scored the magnitude of her enthusiasm, but it barely registered. Judging the worth behind her silence, often he found more sentiment in her noise. And walking alongside him on 2x4 bridges, she almost stumbled into the reflected sky. But instead of falling, she was swaddled. Stabilized by the serenity of the clouds passing below, she was able to continue on the path to its end.

"That bird over there --
The one with a red chest:
Listen."

The bird is sitting in the tree behind us, and its chattering prosody is noticeably familiar. Chords of melancholy are released on its song, and I am moved to transcribe the notes that are played.

It is like the twice-removed cousin you saw once at a funeral: nature is drawn to identify through instinctual recognition, but with the frequency remaining just foreign enough, we choose to disclaim it.

But all I can do now is watch you roll your cigarette. Your intention is careful. And it's mindful. It is as though you are handling the delicate petals of a Lotus. [Like the time we discussed the segments of an orange, and how they echo what is sacred.] And as I watch, I consider how many more cigarettes you could eventually roll if you had preserved all of the scraps you have dropped over time.

It feels like an angel is eavesdropping on us. Or maybe it is the sun. Hidden, its warmth is shy today, and I can relate.

There are too many scratchy fibers encasing this coconut skull to effectuate any thoughts with real meaning. I hear the fragments splash in its crowded vacancy, but the nonsensical order sounds like the white noise in a warehouse.

She loved to witness his intelligence. His transcendency was palpable, and she prayed it was contagious.

She moved closer to him on the bench because his mind was peyote and it felt good to get high.


Suddenly, I am flooded with curiosity about a stranger I sat next-to on the bus yesterday. Her ivory skin and red hair reminded me of spoken word. As we shuttled darkly beneath the retiring city, I stared at her feet which were crossed uncomfortably against her weight. She had a bumblebee tattoo on the top of her right foot. I wanted to ask her if she had a reason for choosing the right over the left. And I wanted to tell her that, as a spectator, it seemed she was subconsciously crossing her right over left in an attempt to avoid smashing her bug. But I decided to goof off on my phone instead.

Time is a wave: God jumping in the ocean as we assign linear meaning to its slow-motion burst, but, really, it is all just one Pollock mark on the surface of Earth. And then it is over.

I want you to write a poem about me. I want to see myself emerge from your flesh, and through your eyes. The thought of it excites and frightens me, all at once. I can't help but wonder if the bad will marble the good, or if the good will marble the bad. It really doesn't matter, either way. And it doesn't even matter how the verses unfold, or what metaphors are applied.

I know that you love me.
And you --
Love me in a way that
One-dimensional words
Could never describe.
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture  #nature 
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Written by Prose in portal Prose

Friday Feature: @Soulhearts

Somehow, it’s already Friday. This is a beautiful thing, as it means we get to hear all about another Proser in our Friday Feature. This week we have one of the most prolific Prosers on here, known and loved by many of the lovely community we have on here. You probably know her as Soulhearts, but you're about to learn much more about her!

P: What is your given name and your Proser username?

S: Soulhearts is the name I have used on all my social media. I was one of those folks that did not trust the internet when I first learned to use it (maybe that was 6-7 yrs ago) haha, don't judge. I can honestly say I am not from the techie generation. I never really divulged my real name and wanted to hide behind a pen name so the name Soulhearts stuck. But because Prose feels like family, I shall break my anonymity and introduce myself. My name is Madilyn De Leon and it's nice to meet you all.

P: Hey, Madilyn! Where do you live?

S: I live in a little corner of a country called USA , a city called Burke in the state of Virginia.

I know we have some Prosers from Virginia so ‘Hello’ to you guys! #represent

P: What is your occupation?

S: I am a stress absorber. I tenaciously bear all the stress I receive from spoiled and entitled customers everyday. Lol! Can you guess the occupation yet? If you guessed retail then you are right. I am a manager in retail for quite some time now and thus have witnessed all the blemished facets of people you wouldn't want to see. I am not complaining though. I like what I do, I just don't agree to the adage "the customer is always right" because most of the time they are not. Sshhhh! This is a secret ok? I don't want to get fired for saying this hahaha. Seriously, customers need to treat retail workers with more kindness and respect. Like the way you yourself expect to be treated.

P: What is your relationship with writing and how has it evolved?

S: Can I say writing is a twin that I cannot be apart from? A conjoined twin attached to my hip, heart, mind and soul. Sometimes it's like a shadow that disappears at night only to come back in the morning. I loved reading when I was younger. Started at elementary with the Golden books, Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, then on my teens with Sweet Dreams, Silhouette and Harlequin Romances. Lol. :) So eventually in High School I was exposed to literature and fell in love with Poetry. Loved the works of the great classics like Shakespeare, Eliot, the Browning's, Burns, Frost, Dickinson to name a few. So from my love of reading, I guess is where my love for writing flowed from. Unlike most of you my dear Prosers, I have not written anything in my life besides maybe a couple of assignments needed for English class back in high school. My writing adventure started around three or four year ago on an app called Heyku (name changed to Ku soon after) I saw it being promoted on Facebook and the name Heyku got me interested because I loved the poetic form Haiku. So I tried it and became one of the pioneers of that app. It was an app where you can only write three lines with a limited word count. Not restricted to writing just Haiku though, the format just looks like it's Haiku because of the three lines. That was where I started religiously writing and posting three lines every day. It was a very friendly community. So very much like Prose. I've met so many wonderful and talented writers there. Some of them are now Prosers too. Their encouragements and precious feedbacks has made my pen more confident through the years. I wrote at first not for anything else but to help me cope with what I was going through at that time. 

Now it seems like my writing has a bigger purpose. I always felt so out of place and overwhelmed with the talent I see around me. After all I do not have a degree in writing nor am I an author. But the universe is slowly letting me feel that yes, I can write and that I can inspire others through it. I am proud to say that my Three Lines has made its way in print to Grace Black's Light Lines anthology book for Three Line Thursday, a micro poetry at Into The Void Magazine's 2nd issue, and a poem in another poetry anthology book titled Luminous Echoes. Indulge me in these for these are great achievements for this little fish lost, swimming in a big ocean of words. It's still surreal to see my work in print until now. I only have gratefulness in my heart for the people who saw something good enough in my writing to put it in print.

P: What value does reading add to both your personal and professional life?

S: Reading I think is like salt to a meal. Without reading a person becomes hollow (personal opinion) the meal would be tasteless, bland. Reading brings you to places you have not even seen nor imagined, it lets you experience life in the perspective of other cultures and philosophies. It cultivates a better understanding of people and the world because you expand your horizon and learn to empathize in the process. Reading feeds the brain and makes one a well-rounded individual.

P: Can you describe your current literary ventures and what can we look forward to in future posts?

S: I could not say that I have a current literary venture, but who knows? Maybe someday a poetry book of my own. Something I have never really considered or imagined until now. As for my future posts, I shall continue to listen to my pen and let it steer the direction of my writing. My posts will still be mostly micro poetry. This is what I love and what I think do best.

P: What do you love about Prose?

S: What's there not to love? Prose is a haven of ridiculously talented individuals. Not just talented but kind hearted individuals. The community is very supportive. It is a conducive environment for anyone who wants to read, write and or get better at writing. There is something for everyone. You like Fiction? You got it. Poetry? Horror? Erotica? Haiku? Follow the portals you love to get the content you want to see on your stream. I also love how this app has a vision. It is continuously evolving and trying to get better. The team is very responsive to any issue. I was lost when Ku discontinued. Now I am happy to have found a home in Prose!

P: Is there one book that you would recommend everybody should read before they die?

S: It's hard to recommend just one because there are so many great books out there. But because I have to choose one then "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran is a book that I always carry with me. Not carry in my purse ok? Lol but like E.E. Cummings Poem "I Carry Your Heart With Me" it is always in my heart.

P: Do you have an unsung hero who got you into reading and/or writing?

S: If there was a person who made me think that I could write was an English teacher back when I was a junior in high school. She praised my work in front of class. It felt good and it was something that I have never forgotten. I titled that piece "A Rainy Day". It was a short poem about the rain that included frogs, the wind, trees... until now, nature is still very evident in my work. I am alone in this reading and writing life. Not one in my family has the same interest. No one can relate to what I do. So I'm thankful I have Prose, here I find kindred souls.

P: Describe yourself in three words!

S: Passionate, Sincere, and Adventurous. I asked friends to describe me and common answers were Bubbly, Creative and Kind.

P: Is there one quote, from a writer or otherwise, that sums you up?

S: Here's a few lines regarding love in Gibran's The Prophet, Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; for love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God." Try to read at least what the book say about love. It is truly beautiful.

P: What is your favourite music, and do you write or read to it?

S: I don't really have a favorite music to read or write to. This doesn't mean I don't like music though. I actually love to sing. I write best when it is quiet. Writing for me is meditative. I need silence to push my pen to bleed. Some favorite songs of mine are Stevie Nick's Landslide (i'm getting old, sentimental) when I hear this. Lynyrd Skynyrd's Freebird takes me to the sky with its killer instrumental/ guitar playing, makes me head bang! Hahaha! I am dizzy after every time.

P: You climb out of a time machine into a dystopian future with no books. What do you tell them?

S: Come let's ride this time machine back and change the past, find out why the books are all gone.

It will be a sad world without books, without libraries, without shelfies.

P: Do you have a favourite place to read and write?

S: It would be my room because that is where I usually spend time after all the hustle and bustle of daily life, I write when everything else is still and quiet.

P: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about your social media accounts?

S: Follow me on Twitter and Instagram. I am also on Lettrs. Forgive me if I don't reply to friend requests on Facebook. You can always message me here or on Twitter and IG. ❤

What a marvellous interview with the lovely Soulhearts. We feel good. Do you feel good? So now you know the drill. Follow. Like. Comment. Love. Do it all and get in touch with us in the usual ways should you wish to take part or want to nominate someone you’d like to see featured here.

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Written by Prose in portal Prose
Friday Feature: @Soulhearts
Somehow, it’s already Friday. This is a beautiful thing, as it means we get to hear all about another Proser in our Friday Feature. This week we have one of the most prolific Prosers on here, known and loved by many of the lovely community we have on here. You probably know her as Soulhearts, but you're about to learn much more about her!

P: What is your given name and your Proser username?
S: Soulhearts is the name I have used on all my social media. I was one of those folks that did not trust the internet when I first learned to use it (maybe that was 6-7 yrs ago) haha, don't judge. I can honestly say I am not from the techie generation. I never really divulged my real name and wanted to hide behind a pen name so the name Soulhearts stuck. But because Prose feels like family, I shall break my anonymity and introduce myself. My name is Madilyn De Leon and it's nice to meet you all.

P: Hey, Madilyn! Where do you live?
S: I live in a little corner of a country called USA , a city called Burke in the state of Virginia.

I know we have some Prosers from Virginia so ‘Hello’ to you guys! #represent

P: What is your occupation?
S: I am a stress absorber. I tenaciously bear all the stress I receive from spoiled and entitled customers everyday. Lol! Can you guess the occupation yet? If you guessed retail then you are right. I am a manager in retail for quite some time now and thus have witnessed all the blemished facets of people you wouldn't want to see. I am not complaining though. I like what I do, I just don't agree to the adage "the customer is always right" because most of the time they are not. Sshhhh! This is a secret ok? I don't want to get fired for saying this hahaha. Seriously, customers need to treat retail workers with more kindness and respect. Like the way you yourself expect to be treated.

P: What is your relationship with writing and how has it evolved?
S: Can I say writing is a twin that I cannot be apart from? A conjoined twin attached to my hip, heart, mind and soul. Sometimes it's like a shadow that disappears at night only to come back in the morning. I loved reading when I was younger. Started at elementary with the Golden books, Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, then on my teens with Sweet Dreams, Silhouette and Harlequin Romances. Lol. :) So eventually in High School I was exposed to literature and fell in love with Poetry. Loved the works of the great classics like Shakespeare, Eliot, the Browning's, Burns, Frost, Dickinson to name a few. So from my love of reading, I guess is where my love for writing flowed from. Unlike most of you my dear Prosers, I have not written anything in my life besides maybe a couple of assignments needed for English class back in high school. My writing adventure started around three or four year ago on an app called Heyku (name changed to Ku soon after) I saw it being promoted on Facebook and the name Heyku got me interested because I loved the poetic form Haiku. So I tried it and became one of the pioneers of that app. It was an app where you can only write three lines with a limited word count. Not restricted to writing just Haiku though, the format just looks like it's Haiku because of the three lines. That was where I started religiously writing and posting three lines every day. It was a very friendly community. So very much like Prose. I've met so many wonderful and talented writers there. Some of them are now Prosers too. Their encouragements and precious feedbacks has made my pen more confident through the years. I wrote at first not for anything else but to help me cope with what I was going through at that time. 

Now it seems like my writing has a bigger purpose. I always felt so out of place and overwhelmed with the talent I see around me. After all I do not have a degree in writing nor am I an author. But the universe is slowly letting me feel that yes, I can write and that I can inspire others through it. I am proud to say that my Three Lines has made its way in print to Grace Black's Light Lines anthology book for Three Line Thursday, a micro poetry at Into The Void Magazine's 2nd issue, and a poem in another poetry anthology book titled Luminous Echoes. Indulge me in these for these are great achievements for this little fish lost, swimming in a big ocean of words. It's still surreal to see my work in print until now. I only have gratefulness in my heart for the people who saw something good enough in my writing to put it in print.

P: What value does reading add to both your personal and professional life?
S: Reading I think is like salt to a meal. Without reading a person becomes hollow (personal opinion) the meal would be tasteless, bland. Reading brings you to places you have not even seen nor imagined, it lets you experience life in the perspective of other cultures and philosophies. It cultivates a better understanding of people and the world because you expand your horizon and learn to empathize in the process. Reading feeds the brain and makes one a well-rounded individual.

P: Can you describe your current literary ventures and what can we look forward to in future posts?
S: I could not say that I have a current literary venture, but who knows? Maybe someday a poetry book of my own. Something I have never really considered or imagined until now. As for my future posts, I shall continue to listen to my pen and let it steer the direction of my writing. My posts will still be mostly micro poetry. This is what I love and what I think do best.

P: What do you love about Prose?
S: What's there not to love? Prose is a haven of ridiculously talented individuals. Not just talented but kind hearted individuals. The community is very supportive. It is a conducive environment for anyone who wants to read, write and or get better at writing. There is something for everyone. You like Fiction? You got it. Poetry? Horror? Erotica? Haiku? Follow the portals you love to get the content you want to see on your stream. I also love how this app has a vision. It is continuously evolving and trying to get better. The team is very responsive to any issue. I was lost when Ku discontinued. Now I am happy to have found a home in Prose!

P: Is there one book that you would recommend everybody should read before they die?
S: It's hard to recommend just one because there are so many great books out there. But because I have to choose one then "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran is a book that I always carry with me. Not carry in my purse ok? Lol but like E.E. Cummings Poem "I Carry Your Heart With Me" it is always in my heart.

P: Do you have an unsung hero who got you into reading and/or writing?
S: If there was a person who made me think that I could write was an English teacher back when I was a junior in high school. She praised my work in front of class. It felt good and it was something that I have never forgotten. I titled that piece "A Rainy Day". It was a short poem about the rain that included frogs, the wind, trees... until now, nature is still very evident in my work. I am alone in this reading and writing life. Not one in my family has the same interest. No one can relate to what I do. So I'm thankful I have Prose, here I find kindred souls.

P: Describe yourself in three words!
S: Passionate, Sincere, and Adventurous. I asked friends to describe me and common answers were Bubbly, Creative and Kind.

P: Is there one quote, from a writer or otherwise, that sums you up?
S: Here's a few lines regarding love in Gibran's The Prophet, Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; for love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God." Try to read at least what the book say about love. It is truly beautiful.

P: What is your favourite music, and do you write or read to it?
S: I don't really have a favorite music to read or write to. This doesn't mean I don't like music though. I actually love to sing. I write best when it is quiet. Writing for me is meditative. I need silence to push my pen to bleed. Some favorite songs of mine are Stevie Nick's Landslide (i'm getting old, sentimental) when I hear this. Lynyrd Skynyrd's Freebird takes me to the sky with its killer instrumental/ guitar playing, makes me head bang! Hahaha! I am dizzy after every time.

P: You climb out of a time machine into a dystopian future with no books. What do you tell them?
S: Come let's ride this time machine back and change the past, find out why the books are all gone.

It will be a sad world without books, without libraries, without shelfies.

P: Do you have a favourite place to read and write?
S: It would be my room because that is where I usually spend time after all the hustle and bustle of daily life, I write when everything else is still and quiet.

P: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about your social media accounts?
S: Follow me on Twitter and Instagram. I am also on Lettrs. Forgive me if I don't reply to friend requests on Facebook. You can always message me here or on Twitter and IG. ❤

What a marvellous interview with the lovely Soulhearts. We feel good. Do you feel good? So now you know the drill. Follow. Like. Comment. Love. Do it all and get in touch with us in the usual ways should you wish to take part or want to nominate someone you’d like to see featured here.
#nonfiction  #philosophy  #news  #opinion  #FridayFeature 
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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Fickle

I am slowly sinking as the waves come and go. Reclaiming a land that was once part of the sea. I watch as the water kiss my feet, get buried in the sand and reappear as the waves pull back. Over and over, again and again on each ebb and flow. I want to drown in the sea but the waves won't take me.

i am where I am

you come and go as you please

a push and a pull

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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Fickle
I am slowly sinking as the waves come and go. Reclaiming a land that was once part of the sea. I watch as the water kiss my feet, get buried in the sand and reappear as the waves pull back. Over and over, again and again on each ebb and flow. I want to drown in the sea but the waves won't take me.

i am where I am
you come and go as you please
a push and a pull
#poetry  #philosophy  #micropoetry  #haibun 
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Juice
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Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by poeticasymptote in portal Poetry & Free Verse

By the River

I sat down by the river Styx

And watched the water glow

With silver threads

But muddled with gray soil

Of lives half-lived, third-lived

And deaths half-buried, third-grieved

And I thought

Where would each soul

Go after the passing

Round the bend of no pain

No gain, no shame?

I sat by the river

And wondered if I flew a kite

That sways with the direction

Of where the current was going;

If it fell, would it drown

In the lapse of time;

Would it drift along

With the thread still

Tied to my frozen hand?

What is death and what is life?

A bidimensional illusion

That flows and intermingle—

One leading to another

In both ways.

What of the river

That makes us sick?

Which way is forward

And which one is back?

Is the current fast or slow?

Is my mind too slow

To catch up with tomorrow

Or is it too fast

In running towards the past?

How do you dream of the future

When all you wish are the days before?

I want to know, I want to know

Because the pain comes

With every ebb and flow.

I watched the river;

You were wrong.

I have no fear.

I just see too much

I feel too much

I think too much

And in all that

I still don't have enough.

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Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by poeticasymptote in portal Poetry & Free Verse
By the River
I sat down by the river Styx
And watched the water glow
With silver threads
But muddled with gray soil
Of lives half-lived, third-lived
And deaths half-buried, third-grieved
And I thought
Where would each soul
Go after the passing
Round the bend of no pain
No gain, no shame?

I sat by the river
And wondered if I flew a kite
That sways with the direction
Of where the current was going;
If it fell, would it drown
In the lapse of time;
Would it drift along
With the thread still
Tied to my frozen hand?

What is death and what is life?
A bidimensional illusion
That flows and intermingle—
One leading to another
In both ways.

What of the river
That makes us sick?
Which way is forward
And which one is back?
Is the current fast or slow?

Is my mind too slow
To catch up with tomorrow
Or is it too fast
In running towards the past?
How do you dream of the future
When all you wish are the days before?
I want to know, I want to know
Because the pain comes
With every ebb and flow.

I watched the river;
You were wrong.
I have no fear.
I just see too much
I feel too much
I think too much
And in all that
I still don't have enough.
#poetry  #philosophy  #life  #pain  #dark 
15
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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Flourish

tight as a bud

you water me with

your touch

and I blossom

petals fall

on every

whisper

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Written by Soulhearts in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Flourish
tight as a bud
you water me with
your touch

and I blossom

petals fall
on every
whisper
#poetry  #philosophy  #micropoetry 
17
5
10
Juice
52 reads
Load 10 Comments
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