Stealth and her sisters have taken residence at the cul-de-sacs of my nerves. They held house warmings, let the hot air humble itself until it sank down upon the guests’ shoulders as a cool, refreshing breeze, served hors d’oeuvres for every thought of their origin. When you look me in my eyes tonight, you’ll find it useful to know my envy for the ones who aren’t afraid to dance at the party, the ones who bulldoze the properties of preconceived panic and stomp the dust into the ground while luscious laughter sings between their lips. I have tried all my life to let myself out of my meaty enclosure, but there’s a reason they call it your rib cage, for how can a heart never, at least once, feel like a prisoner? When I tell you I do not wish to go out tomorrow, know that I am not surrendering my plight, but I am finding a loophole - a place where I can unlace the corset, let myself bulge as I ooze a sugary sap of porcelain melting, of nature in its nonjudgmental air. When I confess my love for you, you might find it monumental, for I have never been this wide open.
Karissa Seibel
I am 17 and from Ohio, USA. For as long as I can remember, I have loved writing. I started out with short stories and began writing poetry a few years ago, but began focusing heavily on it just this year.
As this is my senior year of high school, it is time for me to decide what I wish to pursue for a career. I am still a little indecisive, but one of my top choices is to have a career in editing. I just don’t see myself not being involved in the art of writing!
Some of my other hobbies include makeup and fashion. While I only practice those hobbies for fun, I take my writing seriously. Although I do not have a job in the field, I have an Instagram account: @karissa_thinks_in_ink.
I’m always looking at ways in which I can improve as a poet and I am looking forward to continuing to pursue this craft in my future, whether it’s part of my day job or on the side. I hope you enjoy my work and am ever grateful for the opportunities!
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At night the moon pulls at something in your blood like it does the tides, an embrace by the heavens that sense the stardust in your veins.
Ryan Flett
My name is Ryan and I live in Colton, Oregon. I work as a registered nurse, but I also have a degree in English from Portland State University. I’ve always loved writing, but this year I finally decided to make a go of it.
My writing mostly focuses on our connection with nature. Some of my favorite poets include Mary Oliver and Charles Wright. I’m hoping to self-publish my first collection of poems in the near future.
When I’m not reading or writing my heart out, I’m frequently playing with my two dogs, enjoying a cup of coffee, working on computer programming projects, playing Dungeons and Dragons, or hanging out down at the local record store.
I frequently post original poems on Twitter. You can follow me @ryanwritespoems
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No Autumn is more beautiful than a woman dropping her inhibitions in the Aura of the Man she loves.
She blooms like a Moonflower on a starless night when the Wolves in him calm her ocean of ecstatic Tides.
A Poetic saga flows through the rustic crispness of sheets just like the music born in Autumn by the soft murmurs of the golden leaves.
No Autumn is more beautiful indeed and every woman awaits her call A rebirth from darkness to the myriad shades of Fall.
Unburnt Ashes
We burn many bridges in life but why do we save the ashes? Ashes that pierce every time like a sharp knife. And when it rains, the first few drops that kiss the dry barren mud of the heart we become slave to the petrichor of those rotted dead memories.
Strange but there seems to be no threshold for pain.
I often find myself standing in front of that mirror left back in the deserted woods on one of the pages of my life.
I stare at her happy face, decorating her forehead with a bindi and wearing those bangles with a coy smile. Ah someone needs to shake her up and tell her that she hasn't moved since years and it's high time.
I turn back and look at me now and see the huge walls that I've built over the years. Don't we all have those walls which we laid brick by brick to simply hide or shield whatever little is left of us?
But then I noticed that there ain't any roof and I felt like a fool, when I had the sky then why didn't I fly, why did I believe in the hoax that all is well within these dark sombre walls.
And if there wasn't any roof then why didn't someone come looking for me and take me on some wings which seemed clipped for me.
A Hero we keep searching for outside, didn't you listen to Mariah Carey say that the Hero lies in you.
Ah yes, I keep forgetting and every time someone appears like a shadow I've been imagining since so many years on those walls, remember those walls I've built, yes they do hold some vague images, vivid imaginations that comfort and soothe my aching soul.
And suddenly I try to lean on that shadow but hey shadows eventually fade when it gets dark and there you are left with one more brick for your wall.
So all I say to this little vulnerable girl, burn those bridges and let the winds carry those ashes to some forbidden land of no return.
Build your walls but keep filling those cracks so no shadows can be formed. And finally believe that you are your Hero and you have survived those storms and nobody promised there won't be anymore but remember this time don't give in to a shadow but only the one who promises you endless rainbows at night is the one who'll hold your hand for life.
Gitanjali Kapoor
Gitanjali is known in the Writer’s World by her pen name Laughing_Soul. She is an articulate single lady in her 40’s from Mumbai, India. Born in a loving family with its share of ups and downs, and after carving a a fulfilling career in the hospitality industry, her poetic soul finally found solace in penning words. She is a full time hobby writer, author and publisher. Gitanjali’s making waves in the literary world with her work, adorning many anthologies. She also invented a poetic form called the ‘Mirror Alphoppbet’.
Her debut publication, Crimson Kisses, was featured in the Mumbai edition of Times of India newspaper. Dated 25/07/2018, and praised for highlighting issues related to adolescent girls. Crimson Kisses is available on Amazon.
In her words “Poetry is when my Soul breathes through my words, pain bleeds through my ink and I witness a rebirth of my thoughts.”
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We are all so much more than our statuses, our faces or our anxieties.
We are caring and kind, but beyond that, we are not always fine.
And that is okay.
We are deeper than our smiles, our cries, and our laughs. We are human. Our emotions are so much more vast.
And we will be stronger.
The quietest person in the room fights off the loudest thoughts. Actually, scratch that, anyone can be plagued with mental exhaust. The person who seems to have everything all figured out, really, has never felt more lost.
And that is okay.
Because we are beautiful and we are bold. and we are different and have untold futures awaiting all of us.
So we will change the world.
Riley Bader
Hi, my name is Riley Bader and I am currently a high school student. Writing has always been one of my passions so I decided to create an account for my poetry! But, aside from writing, I also love swimming and playing or listening to music. My poetry account’s username is @whitestorm_poetry. All of the support I have there means the world to me!
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It is not the day that seems special, But the people who make it so. For it is just another day; The same sun, the same sky And the same universe that guides the pass. But you speak of it as a day of remembrance And insist it be celebrated.
But is a day worth celebrating Life? And given you, given your love, Celebration and gratitude are an enormity. Life and Death are a game of scores; Each second that brings us closer adds on to Life And each moment that pulls us apart add on to Death. You ask for my choice of gift, But I already have you. What could be more dear, than a heart which beats in a rhythm similar? A soul that bows in prayer for Eternal togetherness, And happiness that unleashes at the smile that brings the dawn to your day.
You urge, and I finally ask you for a gift And you instinctively say yes. Don’t, for this may hurt, promising a thing prior knowing its price. And I go on to tell you: If ever a lonely soul you stumble upon, A shoreless sailor, with all hope gone, Promise me you’ll hold her hand And be the loveliest roses on her barren land. For a heart that is dilapidated, Life happens not in worldly dreams, But in a feather-touch that brings joy untold And shuts out one’s inner screams.
Thus begins the celebration of the heartbeat, knowing that Gone is the chasm of bitterness; A life awaits anew. I say this, for I have once been a shoreless sailor. Give you such a life, know that our love lives then As the Heavens doth forever.
Tis my birthday today, and you can’t refuse me. All I ask for someone, just like me, is a reason to celebrate; Not just a day, but a life; A life that gives glories, a life that gives pain, But above all, a life that brings you home And prepares you to set sail again.
Joyasmita Ghosh
Joyasmita is from West Bengal, India. Current job: pursuing Graduation course in Mathematics.
Hobbies: Sleeping, watching cartoons, sky-gazing and muser. A hardcore bibliophile and a music lover. Instagram handle: read_andrelate Focus for writing: A break from everything boring.
It's so close Very close Thus why does it seem so far? As the feet approach The view gets distant Luring the heart to walk infinite miles Grazing along the broad wide road There lies the path to love Entangled in a circle
What seemed nigh stands afar Feet are swollen to the kneel Strength fades away at each step From the eyes Flows two rivers down the cheek Why should the pursuit seize? When you've entertained love's wonder How it mends broken hearts Keeps hope alive And stripes stench of sorrow
Its path remains circular And it soon reaches you When patience is not exasperating Best you take a position within Always alert Love soon smiles at you
Peter Anko
Hi, my name is Peter Anko, and I was born in the early nineties. I am a Nigerian and a teacher of English Language and literature.
I enjoy reading, writing, editing print and playing the keyboard. Writing is serious for me. I write poems, short stories and screenplays. Someday, I wish to publish my work. Catch my thoughts on Instagram – Peteranko1
I have been so sick in my life That the sun and the moon Ceased to exist Time was nothing The days and The weeks and The months Melted together While I floated And the rest of the world Kept moving forward Around me Kept moving forward Passed me
I have been so sick in my life That the good days Terrified me So comfortable in my poverty That the warmth and the love Of other people Made me want to kill myself In my self-imposed exile I observed groups of strangers Laughing and enjoying each other And felt the sinking feeling Of my own impotence I have been so sick in my life That I've lied through my teeth
Because to get help And admit my sickness Would mean Hurting my family I am not a man I am not a human being I am diminished I am dehumanized By the sickness inside of me I wake up every morning Into the stench Of reaching for something I'll never grasp again To float is all that I have
Jeff Thomas
I grew up in a small rural village in the thumb of Michigan. Currently, I reside in Washington, MI where I work with a sub-contractor to Home Depot as a fence installer.
My most prominent hobbies outside of reading and writing are all related to music. I like to sing and play guitar. The word is out, and I have become the karaoke entertainment for friends and family. I love listening to classic rock records. I love vinyl, and I’m totally addicted to Dylan and Zeppelin and any Jack White project. I’ve made it a point this year to pay attention and listen to new releases in pop and indie music, it has rejuvenated me spiritually/creatively to see so many young people making great stuff. In my spare time I also record stuff for Soundcloud and make cds for people close to me. After a few tumultuous years writing became kind of a therapeutic exercise, it wasn’t until recently when a friend read some of my stuff that I had lying around in notebooks I started considering being published.
My goal as a writer is to keep working on improving my work and get books published. I would love to be travelling and doing readings and meeting people. On tour in 2015 Jack White paused mid Madison Square Garden concert to say “I hope it feels good when you need it to.” And that’s how I feel about my writing. I don’t want people to feel as bad and be as lost as I’ve been in my life. If I can use my writing to help someone take the edge off for just a moment, that’s a beautiful thing. That’ll always be the goal. I’m taking the heaven in me and giving it away. People can follow me on Instagram @jeffthomasprose and they can check out my Spotify playlists and Soundcloud home recordings @jeffreydthomas
The war in me for equality For equal pay Performing quality work in the same way And never needing to be told Cause I have integrity to uphold I do what is right Regardless of whose around or nowhere in sight In my skin, I have nothing to hide Living above reproach with family on my side Not the one's that you may think Most of them prefer that I fail and sink Please don't waste pretense to worry about me I know who to trust and hold close Those who are fake in due time, truth wins and their lies are exposed
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Sun rises over the city Tired people in robotic motion to survive employment Daily excavation of already empty voids Filling fridges with grass fed meat Paying mortgages that enslave them Windows down feels like freedom Absorbing luscious sky Commuting in rows of all wheel drive Ruminations of what they'll miss today Bittersweet sunrise spectacle Distant dreams fading engulfed by reality of office murmurs and fluorescent light To do it all again tomorrow
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I ask a question that I realize could spark hostile debate. Please know, I do not ask this to instigate negativity. I am seeking to understand. I ask for thoughtful explanation, and thoughtful conversation.
I was raised in two households. During the first part of my childhood, I was raised by my single mother. She is an immigrant who arrived in U.S. in the fifties. Her family worked very hard to send my mother and her sisters to this country. My mother boarded a ship as a pre-teen, with two of her four sisters, and arrived to this country in New York City where she was picked up by my great-grandfather.
My grandmother and her three daughters lived in Little Italy in the North End of Boston in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. They paid for showers at a bath house. The girls went to school where they were teased by the American-born Italian children for not speaking the language. My mother was likely in the 6th grade at the time of her arrival. However, she was put in a first or second-grade classroom as they did not have an education system that could address the language barrier. She soon dropped out of school, as many did at that time. The embarrassment and bullying became too much, and she needed to begin working to help support herself and her family.
Like many immigrant children, my mother experienced childhood trauma. Her experiences made it nearly impossible for her to hold a job. She suffered from severe migraines and panic attacks. We lived in the projects just outside of Boston and were grateful beneficiaries of the welfare system. It allowed my mother to stay home and care for us, and I am so grateful she was home.
I began to spend time with my dad on the west coast when I was eight years old. Eventually I began to split time between the coasts and switched from school in Boston to school in the west, with summers in the east. My father is a conservative Republican. He is also a Christian. My mother a Catholic.
The first Presidential election that I remember well was 1988, Dukakis vs Bush. I remember announcing to my dad, ‘I want Dukakis to win! He’s from Massachusetts, and he’s for the people’. I was immediately scolded and told that I was to root for Bush. And from that point on, I was indoctrinated into the belief system that aligns with a Conservative Right worldview. Not a large task as I was only 11 years old.
I lived a life divided. One that experienced the benefits of a democratic social system that took care of people who could not completely fend for themselves, and another largely motivated by conservative religious ideals. Neither do I feel are wrong or bad, but neither were distinctly my own point of view.
I found myself floating along for years, owning mostly the thought system of my father. I didn’t really know why I was impassioned to defend the beliefs I had as they were not organically my own. It wasn’t until I hit my late thirties that I began soul searching to determine my own political views.
At 41 years of age, I am still soul searching. What is it that I believe? It may seem bizarre to others that I admit this, but it took this long to figure out: ‘are these my beliefs because I really think this way?’ or ‘is this thinking someone imposed on me, but I really do not think this way?’.
I do believe there is a God. I have seen evidence in my own life of a higher power. I am comfortable with the idea of spirituality. I accept that not everything can be seen or touched to make it real. Some things simply require a belief system of faith. I still believe in Jesus. The Jesus I know is a God of love. His teachings focus on defining love. He teaches the acceptance of broken people and modeled agape love during His time on this earth.
Which bring me to my question: What does Jesus think of Trump?
In this complex, polarizing political time, I see and hear Christians proclaiming their undying devotion to Donald Trump. Yet I am perplexed in what I see as a contradiction between things that Trump says and does, and the things that Jesus says in the Bible. An example of this would be Trump’s feelings on immigration.
Immigration is a topic especially close to my heart. If my mother was unable to immigrate to this country, I would not be here today. My great-grandfather and grandmother left a war-torn country to claim a better life for their children, and their children’s children. My great-grandfather and great-uncles helped build the bridges and tunnels that millions use every day in Boston.
I hope someone out there sees this and answers my question. Again, I am only asking to understand. I mean no offense. I am not a Republican. I am not a Democrat. I do vote. I do not vote based on political party anymore. I research each topic and each candidate and base my vote on the facts I am given. I am not a political writer, although this blog post contradicts that statement.
My writing is meant to cover all aspects of my life and in this case, I am reflecting on current politics. My motivation to write this is a desire to learn.
Thank you for reading this. Please leave a comment!
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