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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~unrest

come different, the same storm again

past tense of wind

tightening the rain on a dark house

where days turn into rooms with

long windows

where long moments suffocate

an unnoticed woman

as the light echoes sharp & spineless

deep in the periphery

dust settles the way plum blossoms

fell like haiku, candling the wax

of the poem unwritten & pinned to the skin

nine weeks north, sooner the shade thickens

to hold the shadows under the leaves

lah 5.14.17©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~unrest
come different, the same storm again
past tense of wind
tightening the rain on a dark house
where days turn into rooms with
long windows
where long moments suffocate
an unnoticed woman
as the light echoes sharp & spineless
deep in the periphery
dust settles the way plum blossoms
fell like haiku, candling the wax
of the poem unwritten & pinned to the skin
nine weeks north, sooner the shade thickens
to hold the shadows under the leaves






lah 5.14.17©®
#poetry  #relationships  #memories  #personal  #sadness  #depression  #painful 
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Written by xeian in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Holding

When you began, it was with a bang.

With words and actions aimed

like a barrel full of monkeys at the night,

pouring chaos and light into graves

shaped like the dreams you thought

were worth the wait.

Today, the wait is all you have.

And now the waiting takes on

a shape that billows like a cloud,

crowding out the voices that tell you

why you do what you do,

why you’re worth it to your friends,

why it’s worth it in the end.

But all you can hear is end.

All that matters

is the way things come to a close.

If there’s any hope for this bed of thorns

it’s that it started with roses,

but when you made it you knew

you’d lay in it even if it hurt,

and it hurts so much more than you thought –

and so much less than it ought.

And now everything is going quieter

the tighter up you curl, while your world shrinks

to a face shivering in a teacup,

held in hands that shake and quake and wait.

If anything’s going to happen to you,

it has to come from out there,

because you no longer know how

to open the front door.

Nobody who loves you

knows the score of this funeral march

the way you do.

Nobody else hears the bell that tolls

for the youth you can’t recapture,

or the way love used to enrapture

and now just stresses you out.

The pressure is still there,

to find a hand to hold

and a mouth to meet

and a universe to fill clean up

with the burn of shared silence,

slick violence, and lives bathed in lights

that only make sense to the two of you:

sun or club or candle or screen.

You want fingers in your hair

and prints on your brain and fights

that end lost in a frenzy of sheets

and grass-stained skin.

You want a bonfire that looks like maybe.

You want someone to know you by name,

to set you ablaze, to love you by touch --

and it isn’t, you think, too much to ask.

The world, banked like a coal

in a hand that knows the way of loss

better than holding.

---

"Holding" © 2017 xeian

theprose.com/xeian (170508) [170512]

Originally written as part of a much longer spoken word piece that felt too personal to leave up here.  Reworked for clarity, tone, and arc.

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Written by xeian in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Holding
When you began, it was with a bang.

With words and actions aimed
like a barrel full of monkeys at the night,
pouring chaos and light into graves
shaped like the dreams you thought
were worth the wait.

Today, the wait is all you have.

And now the waiting takes on
a shape that billows like a cloud,
crowding out the voices that tell you
why you do what you do,
why you’re worth it to your friends,
why it’s worth it in the end.

But all you can hear is end.
All that matters
is the way things come to a close.

If there’s any hope for this bed of thorns
it’s that it started with roses,
but when you made it you knew
you’d lay in it even if it hurt,
and it hurts so much more than you thought –
and so much less than it ought.

And now everything is going quieter
the tighter up you curl, while your world shrinks
to a face shivering in a teacup,
held in hands that shake and quake and wait.

If anything’s going to happen to you,
it has to come from out there,
because you no longer know how
to open the front door.

Nobody who loves you
knows the score of this funeral march
the way you do.

Nobody else hears the bell that tolls
for the youth you can’t recapture,
or the way love used to enrapture
and now just stresses you out.

The pressure is still there,
to find a hand to hold
and a mouth to meet
and a universe to fill clean up
with the burn of shared silence,
slick violence, and lives bathed in lights
that only make sense to the two of you:
sun or club or candle or screen.

You want fingers in your hair
and prints on your brain and fights
that end lost in a frenzy of sheets
and grass-stained skin.

You want a bonfire that looks like maybe.

You want someone to know you by name,
to set you ablaze, to love you by touch --
and it isn’t, you think, too much to ask.

The world, banked like a coal
in a hand that knows the way of loss
better than holding.

---

"Holding" © 2017 xeian
theprose.com/xeian (170508) [170512]

Originally written as part of a much longer spoken word piece that felt too personal to leave up here.  Reworked for clarity, tone, and arc.
#poetry  #love  #relationships  #anxiety 
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Written by StephanieMarie in portal Poetry & Free Verse

It's just been me

For the last several months

Working to fill

The table and hutch

I've kept up quite well

But the bills want a bunch

There's four right now

Three five and us

I am a chain server

I work dinner and lunch

The cash flow is nice

Though on days there's not much

He had worked swing shifts

But they went belly up

Laid off and home now

He won't seem to budge

I've begged him to find

Something to help trudge

Through our checkbook

But there's been no luck

He's got three other kids

That I've also loved

And supported while

Their mother smudged

Away my thoughts

And my touch

She says I am awful

But I can pay for the fudge

She is like him

No job she will drudge

Every free program

She gets in her clutch

Now she's decided

Her kids are too much

He is suggesting

They come stay with us

We've done that before

And the fallout was trust

But I can't support them

It's just me banking dust

They all have a problem

The doctor's a must

She takes them so much

I don't mean to judge

But I have my two

That don't need that nudge

I'd write it all

But there's been so much

Arrangements and offices

And actions that crush

My heart over and over

It's probably now mush

I'll probably delete this

I'm just hurting so much

He says he would take

The first job or such

If I were to leave but

If I stay he won't touch

A pen to the paper

To help support us

I can't keep up

I'm starting to brush

Against disaster

I can feel it's touch

I can't be the only mule

That pulls through the sludge

I'm facing some choices

That I just can't misjudge

My children depend

On my slow or rush

My next few movements

Could knock out the crutch

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Written by StephanieMarie in portal Poetry & Free Verse
It's just been me
For the last several months
Working to fill
The table and hutch
I've kept up quite well
But the bills want a bunch
There's four right now
Three five and us
I am a chain server
I work dinner and lunch
The cash flow is nice
Though on days there's not much
He had worked swing shifts
But they went belly up
Laid off and home now
He won't seem to budge
I've begged him to find
Something to help trudge
Through our checkbook
But there's been no luck
He's got three other kids
That I've also loved
And supported while
Their mother smudged
Away my thoughts
And my touch
She says I am awful
But I can pay for the fudge
She is like him
No job she will drudge
Every free program
She gets in her clutch
Now she's decided
Her kids are too much
He is suggesting
They come stay with us
We've done that before
And the fallout was trust
But I can't support them
It's just me banking dust
They all have a problem
The doctor's a must
She takes them so much
I don't mean to judge
But I have my two
That don't need that nudge
I'd write it all
But there's been so much
Arrangements and offices
And actions that crush
My heart over and over
It's probably now mush
I'll probably delete this
I'm just hurting so much
He says he would take
The first job or such
If I were to leave but
If I stay he won't touch
A pen to the paper
To help support us
I can't keep up
I'm starting to brush
Against disaster
I can feel it's touch
I can't be the only mule
That pulls through the sludge
I'm facing some choices
That I just can't misjudge
My children depend
On my slow or rush
My next few movements
Could knock out the crutch









#poetry  #freeverse  #relationships  #TMI  #maybeimweak  #toomanywords 
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Written by xeian in portal Romance & Erotica

Welcome Home, Sir

You know what I miss?

The way I shift a little on my heels, hearing the front door creak open on a swell of sound; the tumble of traffic graceless before you, rushing to tangle in my ears.  Dragging me from files and folders to the floor, heartfast and held.  Opening by degrees to the magic you bring closer with every muted step.

That first electric moment of connection: dark curls cresting the still, silent wave of the stairwell.  Turning, seeking.  That familiar gaze finding me, rising like a nymph from the pool of light around my knees, tracing the glow of afternoon over skin bared and made beautiful by your want.  A hedonistic pulse, hummingbird-soft; curves slight and smooth, unsure of their own worth.  Perfect, you say -- without any words at all.

And there it is:

Your smile, sparking first in eyes I've seen open and close and roll back in all kinds of extremities: pleasure, pain, exhaustion, frustration.  A yearning so acute that all you could do to voice it was reach, and search for me with the hands of a blind man, urgent and wild.  And now it breaks over your body in a tangible wash of warmth, brighter than the sun upon my head.

The way you stop there, calm and collected in your slacks and dress shirt, sans the shoes you left downstairs; clothed while I kneel, nameless as a newborn and just as defenceless.  As hungry to be claimed, and taken home.

You, patient, looking at me.  Smiling.   Drinking me in -- here, as and when you asked, with no thought but to please.  I am yours beneath the stars sparked from the curve of steel at my throat, painting the leather with lust.  Light strikes my hair to shadowed fire, a bloodshot tumble of night over shoulders naked, nervous, neural with desire.

And all at once the waiting peaks, my tension a butterfly trapped in the clever cave of your mouth, wings beating against your tongue as the silence draws itself taut like a bow.  I tremble and wonder if I am too late, too little, too--

Hello, pretty thing.

Your voice like a caress, like love made flesh.  And I remember how to breathe.

---

"Welcome Home, Sir" © 2017 xeian

theprose.com/xeian (170517)

In memory, tribute, and anticipation.

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Written by xeian in portal Romance & Erotica
Welcome Home, Sir
You know what I miss?

The way I shift a little on my heels, hearing the front door creak open on a swell of sound; the tumble of traffic graceless before you, rushing to tangle in my ears.  Dragging me from files and folders to the floor, heartfast and held.  Opening by degrees to the magic you bring closer with every muted step.

That first electric moment of connection: dark curls cresting the still, silent wave of the stairwell.  Turning, seeking.  That familiar gaze finding me, rising like a nymph from the pool of light around my knees, tracing the glow of afternoon over skin bared and made beautiful by your want.  A hedonistic pulse, hummingbird-soft; curves slight and smooth, unsure of their own worth.  Perfect, you say -- without any words at all.

And there it is:

Your smile, sparking first in eyes I've seen open and close and roll back in all kinds of extremities: pleasure, pain, exhaustion, frustration.  A yearning so acute that all you could do to voice it was reach, and search for me with the hands of a blind man, urgent and wild.  And now it breaks over your body in a tangible wash of warmth, brighter than the sun upon my head.

The way you stop there, calm and collected in your slacks and dress shirt, sans the shoes you left downstairs; clothed while I kneel, nameless as a newborn and just as defenceless.  As hungry to be claimed, and taken home.

You, patient, looking at me.  Smiling.   Drinking me in -- here, as and when you asked, with no thought but to please.  I am yours beneath the stars sparked from the curve of steel at my throat, painting the leather with lust.  Light strikes my hair to shadowed fire, a bloodshot tumble of night over shoulders naked, nervous, neural with desire.

And all at once the waiting peaks, my tension a butterfly trapped in the clever cave of your mouth, wings beating against your tongue as the silence draws itself taut like a bow.  I tremble and wonder if I am too late, too little, too--

Hello, pretty thing.

Your voice like a caress, like love made flesh.  And I remember how to breathe.

---

"Welcome Home, Sir" © 2017 xeian
theprose.com/xeian (170517)

In memory, tribute, and anticipation.
#relationships  #connection  #submission 
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CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you.
Written by WarriorKate

Silent Goodbye's

The saying goes, "When a person shows you who they are, believe them". But what if you want so deeply to believe they can be so much more? When I look at him I see two people -- the person I need him to be, and the person he actually is. Choosing to overlook his horrible nature is a consequence of my compassionate heart, always attempting to see the best in people. Sticking around to try to fix what is broken within him is my greatest weakness, and my biggest, most dangerous mistake. My gut warned me to walk away, to get out early, to move on. I wish I had trusted my intuition.

I was blinded by the beauty is his dark brown eyes, his growing tanned skin, his young healthy, sexy body, complete with a sleeve of tattoos. He promised me everything I needed, and he delivered on the material end of the promise. We had amazing sexual chemistry -- and built a relationship out of a dangerous attraction. On the outside we looked like the perfect pair --we had the fancy house, nice things, the right school for our child. He was the breadwinner, and I took care of everything else. By everything, I mean everything -- and this was among my first of many mistakes. I created this monster, a monster who thought his contributions came with a dollar amount and ended there. I didn't think much of it at first, until I realized his effort into our family was nothing but money, and mine was all encompassing. Not willing to give at all, this was who he was. Selfish to the core, putting himself and his needs far above the needs of anyone else. He showed this side to me very early on, and I saw it but refused to think that was who he really was. It took all of my waking hours, my health, all of me to take care of all of our commitments. I may as well have been a single mom, because I did everything solo, sacrificing my entire self to hold the pieces together. This picture perfect Dad and Husband I'd painted him to be, he was not. He had his moments, but they were few and far between. I saw this early on too, yet chose to believe that he would grow, adapt and become what he promised he would be. He knew he lacked as a parent, as a partner and constantly vowed to "do better", but those days of doing better were more like mere minutes. Effort and energy are not limitless- they are limited. Eventually your energy runs dry, and you are left with the shell of who you were, sucked dry by giving away your passion and love into another person who never deserved it in the first place. I let him suck the life out of me, the joy was gone, the ambition, the light that I'd always carried that shine of optimism during the darkest days -- diminished. My glow was no more, and I'd lost myself to keep him happy. I'd given away my joy, tip toeing around the life we built together in order to not set him off. I'd given up my sanity to keep him sane.

When you lose your happiness, your fire and your spirit for life, you become unrecognizable. I didn't know myself, I only knew what I had become with him. The screaming fights, the violent nights, my will to live was gone. He'd shown me early on he could be violent, aggressive, and moody. I choose to believe that this was repairable -- that he was damaged and he just needed love and support. He needed an example of a loving environment, and he'd become part of a loving environment. Counseling and head meds could fix him, I was sure. His damage ran far deeper than I'd ever imagined. Instead of helping create a loving environment, he brought demons from his childhood I could've never believed possible. He told me about his abusive childhood -- fighting parents, physical abuse, verbal abuse and mental abuse. His father always screaming at his mother, calling her a whore, slapping her, throwing him into and through walls, calling him stupid. I saw a victim -- a sweet person with a tragic childhood. He brought those childhood demons with him, and although they didn't visit often, when they did they came out with a vengeance. Punching walls, breaking glass, throwing shoes, screaming at me in front of our child -- horrible names. I'd try to ask him to please not do this in front of our child, but that only escalated his anger. He showed me this before I was stuck, and I chose to believe it was a one time mistake. I'd fooled myself into believing, he would never hurt me again.

It was not a hiccup, he couldn't be fixed, he was broken, like a shattered mirror that even when glued together perfectly, would never work. The most patient loving human in the world couldn't repair the wounds that compromised his being, because he didn't want to be any different than he was. You can never change a person who doesn't see fault in themselves.

With bumps, scrapes, bruises, words of hate burned into my frame of reference and a scarred image of myself, I looked in the mirror and realized it was now or never. So to him I said goodbye, without saying a single word. I ran away with the former shell of myself, a child who'd seen enough pain to last a lifetime, and no material possessions to my name. If you don't have love, happiness, your health and safety, and some sort of peace, material things become irrelevant. I got away, but I will always reflect back on the greatest lesson of my life.

I had survived a brutal and harmful relationship, and I lived to tell my story. I learned so much about myself, all while getting lost inside a hell disgusted as a marriage. Thanks to him, I learned the biggest lesson of my life, and I will carry it always, and pass it on to others. If someone shows you they are horrible, believe them. If someone shows signs of violence, believe them. If someone shows signs of selfishness, believe them. If someone is showing you their true colors, don't think you can take your paint brush and recreate the dark piece of work they are. My love, energy, compassion, empathy and drive are mine to give, not to be given away lightly, and not to be taken or stomped on by another. I learned this lesson from life the long and hard way, and I share my story so that others don't end up victims of domestic violence. The warning signs are always there, recognize them the first time, it may save your life. People who are that flawed, are not fixable. Save the love you have for those who deserve it, and love yourself first and foremost.

"When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time" ~ Maya Angelou

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CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you.
Written by WarriorKate
Silent Goodbye's
The saying goes, "When a person shows you who they are, believe them". But what if you want so deeply to believe they can be so much more? When I look at him I see two people -- the person I need him to be, and the person he actually is. Choosing to overlook his horrible nature is a consequence of my compassionate heart, always attempting to see the best in people. Sticking around to try to fix what is broken within him is my greatest weakness, and my biggest, most dangerous mistake. My gut warned me to walk away, to get out early, to move on. I wish I had trusted my intuition.

I was blinded by the beauty is his dark brown eyes, his growing tanned skin, his young healthy, sexy body, complete with a sleeve of tattoos. He promised me everything I needed, and he delivered on the material end of the promise. We had amazing sexual chemistry -- and built a relationship out of a dangerous attraction. On the outside we looked like the perfect pair --we had the fancy house, nice things, the right school for our child. He was the breadwinner, and I took care of everything else. By everything, I mean everything -- and this was among my first of many mistakes. I created this monster, a monster who thought his contributions came with a dollar amount and ended there. I didn't think much of it at first, until I realized his effort into our family was nothing but money, and mine was all encompassing. Not willing to give at all, this was who he was. Selfish to the core, putting himself and his needs far above the needs of anyone else. He showed this side to me very early on, and I saw it but refused to think that was who he really was. It took all of my waking hours, my health, all of me to take care of all of our commitments. I may as well have been a single mom, because I did everything solo, sacrificing my entire self to hold the pieces together. This picture perfect Dad and Husband I'd painted him to be, he was not. He had his moments, but they were few and far between. I saw this early on too, yet chose to believe that he would grow, adapt and become what he promised he would be. He knew he lacked as a parent, as a partner and constantly vowed to "do better", but those days of doing better were more like mere minutes. Effort and energy are not limitless- they are limited. Eventually your energy runs dry, and you are left with the shell of who you were, sucked dry by giving away your passion and love into another person who never deserved it in the first place. I let him suck the life out of me, the joy was gone, the ambition, the light that I'd always carried that shine of optimism during the darkest days -- diminished. My glow was no more, and I'd lost myself to keep him happy. I'd given away my joy, tip toeing around the life we built together in order to not set him off. I'd given up my sanity to keep him sane.

When you lose your happiness, your fire and your spirit for life, you become unrecognizable. I didn't know myself, I only knew what I had become with him. The screaming fights, the violent nights, my will to live was gone. He'd shown me early on he could be violent, aggressive, and moody. I choose to believe that this was repairable -- that he was damaged and he just needed love and support. He needed an example of a loving environment, and he'd become part of a loving environment. Counseling and head meds could fix him, I was sure. His damage ran far deeper than I'd ever imagined. Instead of helping create a loving environment, he brought demons from his childhood I could've never believed possible. He told me about his abusive childhood -- fighting parents, physical abuse, verbal abuse and mental abuse. His father always screaming at his mother, calling her a whore, slapping her, throwing him into and through walls, calling him stupid. I saw a victim -- a sweet person with a tragic childhood. He brought those childhood demons with him, and although they didn't visit often, when they did they came out with a vengeance. Punching walls, breaking glass, throwing shoes, screaming at me in front of our child -- horrible names. I'd try to ask him to please not do this in front of our child, but that only escalated his anger. He showed me this before I was stuck, and I chose to believe it was a one time mistake. I'd fooled myself into believing, he would never hurt me again.

It was not a hiccup, he couldn't be fixed, he was broken, like a shattered mirror that even when glued together perfectly, would never work. The most patient loving human in the world couldn't repair the wounds that compromised his being, because he didn't want to be any different than he was. You can never change a person who doesn't see fault in themselves.

With bumps, scrapes, bruises, words of hate burned into my frame of reference and a scarred image of myself, I looked in the mirror and realized it was now or never. So to him I said goodbye, without saying a single word. I ran away with the former shell of myself, a child who'd seen enough pain to last a lifetime, and no material possessions to my name. If you don't have love, happiness, your health and safety, and some sort of peace, material things become irrelevant. I got away, but I will always reflect back on the greatest lesson of my life.

I had survived a brutal and harmful relationship, and I lived to tell my story. I learned so much about myself, all while getting lost inside a hell disgusted as a marriage. Thanks to him, I learned the biggest lesson of my life, and I will carry it always, and pass it on to others. If someone shows you they are horrible, believe them. If someone shows signs of violence, believe them. If someone shows signs of selfishness, believe them. If someone is showing you their true colors, don't think you can take your paint brush and recreate the dark piece of work they are. My love, energy, compassion, empathy and drive are mine to give, not to be given away lightly, and not to be taken or stomped on by another. I learned this lesson from life the long and hard way, and I share my story so that others don't end up victims of domestic violence. The warning signs are always there, recognize them the first time, it may save your life. People who are that flawed, are not fixable. Save the love you have for those who deserve it, and love yourself first and foremost.

"When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time" ~ Maya Angelou
#nonfiction  #culture  #relationships  #survivor  #domesticviolence 
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Written by Theartesoul in portal A Writer's Path

Author

I wrote an E-book

You can find it on Lulu.com

It's called "The Art Soul"

Your reviews will be greatly appreciated

This is a big step for me.

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Written by Theartesoul in portal A Writer's Path
Author
I wrote an E-book
You can find it on Lulu.com
It's called "The Art Soul"
Your reviews will be greatly appreciated

This is a big step for me.
#romance  #relationships  #emotions  #author  #ebook 
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