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Written by AdrienMae27 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Writers And Prison Guards...

Incarcerated emotions planning

an escape.

Made to be free, yet caged

In the comfort of silence.

A quiescence mind lay muted,

By language, the original sin.

Entombed by a yearning for expressive exude.

Damned are the description

of feelings, condemned by the need to convey.

No words written or spoke can

unchain you, after all...

They were designed to enslave.

Do you see? Don't you get it?

The greatest secret ever been kept

...Feelings can only be felt.

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Written by AdrienMae27 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Writers And Prison Guards...
Incarcerated emotions planning
an escape.
Made to be free, yet caged
In the comfort of silence.
A quiescence mind lay muted,
By language, the original sin.
Entombed by a yearning for expressive exude.
Damned are the description
of feelings, condemned by the need to convey.
No words written or spoke can
unchain you, after all...
They were designed to enslave.
Do you see? Don't you get it?
The greatest secret ever been kept
...Feelings can only be felt.
#nonfiction  #education  #spirituality  #culture  #opinion 
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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 Jessi

Shore, I Sea

Onshore and onward your whitecap crests resonate and fill us with your sub-

stance. Never truly gone, you only

retire with the sun as it withdraws

on the horizon. The unchangeable

flow never ends .... for you will always

return to the world, whether the same

or in different forms ~ eternally.

~Jessi (image and poem)

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Written by Jessi
Shore, I Sea
Onshore and onward your whitecap crests resonate and fill us with your sub-
stance. Never truly gone, you only
retire with the sun as it withdraws
on the horizon. The unchangeable
flow never ends .... for you will always
return to the world, whether the same
or in different forms ~ eternally.

~Jessi (image and poem)
#spirituality 
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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 kaenjelkjern in portal Poetry & Free Verse

I have tasted the rain

Falling

         e

         n

         t

         l

         y(ou too have tasted watched the stars)

And deadly,

Both

Flooding the senses

                           (ense this;

                            

                            It is general

                            Consensus

                            That we will ache

                            In life)t

                                      e

                                      r

                                      n

                                      a

                                      l

                                      l

                                      y.

I have tasted drops formed from

Mo         ai

      u    t       n

         n              s,

And dew formed upon

g    g    g    g    g

r     r    r     r    r

a     a    a    a    a

s     s     s    s    s

s     s     s    s    s(teady yourself.

You can bend

And also mend)

That grows

Taller than I do(not compare).

I aspire to be such grass,

Even as I taste rain

That

t m u o l s t u u l u y

Drowns even the ocean

(I fear the water

But oh I know it is passionate).

It waters these roots

                            (u

                             n

                             will come again)

And I fasten myself further

And my limbs Ache such an Ache

And it is in the Aching

That I am

Making myself(or the

B   eaking

   r

never lasts)

And I follow my mothers

(the mothers, the daughters, how holy are our

Spirits)

Who have bathed in the rain.

Earth is a woman of virtue leading the raindance

jump love song

Within the stars(hethey have watched the stars

                                                                      o

                                                                      eagerly)

And I am a mere virgin born from her and Mercury,

Virgin to myself,

My messages,

My rains(o many are yet to come.

So many have been weathered),

My pains.

So it seems.

My hair has turned green

And I find new names

And grow gr

                    a

                        s

                            Strong roots

(They say it is greener

But familiar dewdroprains

Scale the blades of our eyes

With Emerald hues if we open them)

When I practice

(oh it takes practice.

All in due time) the raindance

jump love song.

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Written by kaenjelkjern in portal Poetry & Free Verse
I have tasted the rain
Falling
         e
         n
         t
         l
         y(ou too have tasted watched the stars)
And deadly,
Both
Flooding the senses
                           (ense this;
                            
                            It is general
                            Consensus
                            That we will ache
                            In life)t
                                      e
                                      r
                                      n
                                      a
                                      l
                                      l
                                      y.

I have tasted drops formed from
Mo         ai
      u    t       n
         n              s,
And dew formed upon
g    g    g    g    g
r     r    r     r    r
a     a    a    a    a
s     s     s    s    s
s     s     s    s    s(teady yourself.

You can bend
And also mend)

That grows
Taller than I do(not compare).

I aspire to be such grass,
Even as I taste rain
That
t m u o l s t u u l u y
Drowns even the ocean
(I fear the water
But oh I know it is passionate).

It waters these roots
                            (u
                             n
                             will come again)
And I fasten myself further

And my limbs Ache such an Ache
And it is in the Aching
That I am
Making myself(or the
B   eaking
   r
never lasts)

And I follow my mothers
(the mothers, the daughters, how holy are our
Spirits)
Who have bathed in the rain.

Earth is a woman of virtue leading the raindance
jump love song
Within the stars(hethey have watched the stars
                                                                      o
                                                                      eagerly)
And I am a mere virgin born from her and Mercury,
Virgin to myself,
My messages,
My rains(o many are yet to come.
So many have been weathered),
My pains.

So it seems.

My hair has turned green
And I find new names
And grow gr
                    a
                        s
                            Strong roots
(They say it is greener
But familiar dewdroprains
Scale the blades of our eyes
With Emerald hues if we open them)

When I practice
(oh it takes practice.

All in due time) the raindance
jump love song.
#nonfiction  #poetry  #love  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by Tylasmith in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Depression

the thoughts are heavy 

the suicidal frequency 

is messing with my soundwaves 

with all the truth I have shed 

I have only a drop of blood 

left 

my velvet stained sleeves baptized in the blood of my broken done heart 

my crimson ink 

drying up and emotionally numb

I don't want to hurt myself 

I just want to silence these thoughts 

the rain cloud is thick and heavy 

pouring liquated metal 

atrophying in my cocoon 

of feelings 

turn hard 

heart going in a fetal position 

hands enfolded across my breast 

laying my soul 

to rest 

the angel of life 

has to come and finally 

tilt my eyelids shut 

my skin 

going cold 

slowly pulling the sheets 

over my head 

and cry 

and I beg you to let me out of this hell

help me please 

I can't keep holding on 

the fight is too much 

the darkness 

crawling and suck all 

of my breath 

swallowing 

the last 

gulp 

of the crisp 

a thick and opaque air of depression 

raining a rainfall of 

tears 

flooding up the room 

tears flowing 

streaming 

into the river 

of old tears 

heart feels heavy 

like it's drowning 

to the pit 

of disparity 

and unworthiness 

my stomached 

bursting 

to the gut 

with thoughts 

and emotion 

that i can't get out

pushing my fingers down 

my throat until

I puke up these feelings 

till I taste the puke 

of tasteless 

words 

taste buds tinged and taste of 

depression

eyes grey and still -born and drained 

of its light 

the smile that was there disappeared 

the voices sound like the demons in my head 

depression this transgression

that I can't get rid of 

this thorn in the flesh 

that makes it hard 

for me to get out 

of bed 

thoughts 

arthic 

faith 

of things will get better 

heart beat is stagnant 

Tyla you don't want to hurt yourself 

Tyla your not suicidal

put the knife down 

put it down 

I have to kill myself 

they said I have too 

who the voices 

in my head 

they said if I don't kill myself 

I would be a liar 

and letting depression down 

and you don't want to let depression 

down because it will just get nothing but worse 

come on 

your better than this 

you fought the voices each time 

you can fight them 

go to the ring 

and give em hell 

she tried to hang herself on the same rope that she used to hang on for hope 

until it snapped in half  just like her mind 

 

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Written by Tylasmith in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Depression
the thoughts are heavy 
the suicidal frequency 
is messing with my soundwaves 
with all the truth I have shed 
I have only a drop of blood 
left 
my velvet stained sleeves baptized in the blood of my broken done heart 
my crimson ink 
drying up and emotionally numb
I don't want to hurt myself 
I just want to silence these thoughts 
the rain cloud is thick and heavy 
pouring liquated metal 
atrophying in my cocoon 
of feelings 
turn hard 
heart going in a fetal position 
hands enfolded across my breast 
laying my soul 
to rest 
the angel of life 
has to come and finally 
tilt my eyelids shut 
my skin 
going cold 
slowly pulling the sheets 
over my head 
and cry 
and I beg you to let me out of this hell
help me please 
I can't keep holding on 
the fight is too much 
the darkness 
crawling and suck all 
of my breath 
swallowing 
the last 
gulp 
of the crisp 
a thick and opaque air of depression 
raining a rainfall of 
tears 
flooding up the room 
tears flowing 
streaming 
into the river 
of old tears 
heart feels heavy 
like it's drowning 
to the pit 
of disparity 
and unworthiness 
my stomached 
bursting 
to the gut 
with thoughts 
and emotion 
that i can't get out
pushing my fingers down 
my throat until
I puke up these feelings 
till I taste the puke 
of tasteless 
words 
taste buds tinged and taste of 
depression
eyes grey and still -born and drained 
of its light 
the smile that was there disappeared 
the voices sound like the demons in my head 
depression this transgression
that I can't get rid of 
this thorn in the flesh 
that makes it hard 
for me to get out 
of bed 
thoughts 
arthic 
faith 
of things will get better 
heart beat is stagnant 
Tyla you don't want to hurt yourself 
Tyla your not suicidal
put the knife down 
put it down 
I have to kill myself 
they said I have too 
who the voices 
in my head 
they said if I don't kill myself 
I would be a liar 
and letting depression down 
and you don't want to let depression 
down because it will just get nothing but worse 
come on 
your better than this 
you fought the voices each time 
you can fight them 
go to the ring 
and give em hell 
she tried to hang herself on the same rope that she used to hang on for hope 
until it snapped in half  just like her mind 
 
#poetry  #spirituality  #mentalillness  #hangingfromthethreadofhope  #hearingvoices 
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Written by fallingundone in portal Stream of Consciousness

it's sickening to watch myself, as i struggle pathetically through this unfair and selfish world, as i attempt to make sense out of the nonsensical, and wonder when i will reach the stars, although my rational mind knows it is impossible

i hate the sticky feel of my skin and how the air feels so heavy, and how i cannot seem to do anything for myself, how i am so trapped by the physical and mental and psychological limits no one else seems to be subjected to

isn't it awful to know that everyone dies, and if it is, then why am i so comforted by that immovable, inevitable fact that eventually nothing we ever did will matter, that everyone and everything is equal in the end

my head aches as i grapple with this illogical reality, as i feel pressure upon my eyes i realize that tears are threatening, just how weak am i really, to feel this way at a few words

god i want to kill myself

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Written by fallingundone in portal Stream of Consciousness
it's sickening to watch myself, as i struggle pathetically through this unfair and selfish world, as i attempt to make sense out of the nonsensical, and wonder when i will reach the stars, although my rational mind knows it is impossible

i hate the sticky feel of my skin and how the air feels so heavy, and how i cannot seem to do anything for myself, how i am so trapped by the physical and mental and psychological limits no one else seems to be subjected to

isn't it awful to know that everyone dies, and if it is, then why am i so comforted by that immovable, inevitable fact that eventually nothing we ever did will matter, that everyone and everything is equal in the end

my head aches as i grapple with this illogical reality, as i feel pressure upon my eyes i realize that tears are threatening, just how weak am i really, to feel this way at a few words

god i want to kill myself

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

The Phantom on the Other Side of the Pen

I don't want to be remembered

As the foreign relative,

Faceless person who

Activated the postage stamp

The half-print, half-script hand

Scribbling to the end of the page

I don't want to be the one

Always introduced by the postman

The two-dimensional aunt

Of balloon-filled birthday cards

Hallmark designs, pretty paper

And written lines

Ending up lower than they begin

I don't want to be recalled more easily

Inside a sealed envelope

Than outside on your doorstep

On Calle Estrella Polar

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Written by Mtrubenfire in portal Poetry & Free Verse
The Phantom on the Other Side of the Pen
I don't want to be remembered
As the foreign relative,
Faceless person who
Activated the postage stamp
The half-print, half-script hand
Scribbling to the end of the page
I don't want to be the one
Always introduced by the postman
The two-dimensional aunt
Of balloon-filled birthday cards
Hallmark designs, pretty paper
And written lines
Ending up lower than they begin
I don't want to be recalled more easily
Inside a sealed envelope
Than outside on your doorstep
On Calle Estrella Polar
#poetry  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

Broken Mirrors

It was an eclipsal revealing

The way the shadows moved in

Trapping life as we knew it

Under its blanket of fog

Like gasping butterflies caught

In a mason jar with no holes

The Truth as we lived it

Was inverted in a flash

I remember standing outside the bar

Watching the people as they hung

From steel boots linked to nothing

Except the inversion bed straps

Like sleeping bats stretching long

It was as though they were waiting

For their spines to straighten out

Or perhaps to find the path --

And as the winter grew warm

The frigid winds welcomed summer

Reality as we had created it

Was all along just a myth

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
Broken Mirrors
It was an eclipsal revealing
The way the shadows moved in
Trapping life as we knew it
Under its blanket of fog
Like gasping butterflies caught
In a mason jar with no holes
The Truth as we lived it
Was inverted in a flash

I remember standing outside the bar
Watching the people as they hung
From steel boots linked to nothing
Except the inversion bed straps
Like sleeping bats stretching long
It was as though they were waiting
For their spines to straighten out
Or perhaps to find the path --

And as the winter grew warm
The frigid winds welcomed summer
Reality as we had created it
Was all along just a myth
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Juice
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