Poem Reading A reading of my poem. Mispronounced "fervor" and likely all three of the German words.
--------
-------
------
-----

Roses, blood in the soil, thorns in the skin,

vicissitude-ecstasy in one, too much for one,

flowers of life, flowers of death, infernal descent into layers of petals,

red, red, red, always, forever the red of feeling

beckons you into a sting embrace, their life fills your senses, drowns you in a sea of need,

surrenders inhibition to this coital fervor, passionate nights of the senses, passionate! life unlived,

grafted, grafted, sieve the old blood fresh, pour, sup!, pour!,

etch a mold, foundation of branches, generations trace their roots through roses, veins ablaze without succor, feeling full radius of bone, locus of sin,

the torture garden of blissful, smiling corpses, bites an obolus at passage death, thirst of tragedy and muses!

leaps into the burning rivers because water sings, it sings flowing rhythms in lungs, sings you, body, a canvas artist-musician,

kneel prayer to great Melpomene, metamorphosis celebration, union of hedons take roses to their coffin-funerals,

blesses Charon a petal, blesses self the splendor thorn,

sprouting observer, heart (a torrent), catharsis hidden beyond the beyond periphery,

suitable vessel, an uninviting orchestra, home of gratitude,

Eden is within the innermost circles, selfish most joy allows much evil in the churches, kindness redemption in the churches,

cannot read the words, feel!

greatly each breath of more value than words, physicality this greenest pasture, come graze upon as cattles do,

upon air, upon water, upon smell, touching art, art-ing touch, this preverbal state of being needs essence!,

bop Kabbalah soul journeys of unthinking words, conscious chaotic words, aware as an adult free child,

Lebensfreude, Weltfreude, Zufriedenheit!, joy, joy, joy!,

hewers of wood and drawers of water smile atop this climbing Babel, yes, tower of infinite words climbing the breadth and depth of us!

above infinity, above dimension, above knowing, is, simply is, beautifully, here.

Link1
Link2

Once fractured, now free,
This man seeks tranquility.
Many around make much sound,
Obscuring air like a cloud.

Peace comes in many forms;
Some hate the storms,
While others it invigorates.
It feeds their ground and fills,
Till emotions they recreate.
The wildlife here roams;
It feeds their soul—
To see such activity.

While others, like a greenhouse,
Peace comes silent as a mouse.
The air inside builds thick,
While memories stick to the walls.
Here plants grow,
While the wind whips to and fro,
Beyond the four walls of the mind.

Is it too much to ask,
Not for a storm, but a gap,
Of such tranquility?
For to me, it seems
To those living in peace,
The storms like to tear it away,
Away at small homes
And sound-proof foam
That keeps chaos at bay.

Surely failure awaits for flimsy facades facing the front of the storm!
Alas, castles of conciseness can keep the cacophony at bay.
Seek such a solitude castle, not of sand or scantily clad fads.

For time it takes
To build up a place
Of such fortitude.
For during that time,
While building towers,
It keeps little solitude.
After much toil,
A greenhouse castle will foil
The sound of the storm.

Those in the storm,
I have nothing against;
I truly wish them the best.
But I, for one, am now blessed
With calm,
And peace,
And rest.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/7VAZqxMoqW

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/C6nx6ylfyI

The drowned breathes, the nail it hammers,

The blessed calls himself blessed.

Freud imagines himself a sage,

While the jester feels his soul in cage.

-

The poet writes that which he's sold,

The killer kills, believing he's got more.

Declares war on all that he sees broken,

While the jester’s soul remains unspoken.

-

The dreamer wakes to his dreams in blaze,

The prophet still cries of promised days.

The flies breed in water so clean,

As the child sees truth in the jester's gaze.

comment 1 (ignorance of bliss)

comment 2

I sat upon the velvet evening glow

A chair of green instead of darkened blue

A swirling sky without a trace of snow 

And yet I taste its gray and dampish hue

I sip with slow and gently measured pace

A mix of foolish talk with soft lament

I drift and fall but match the words you chase 

While crafting words without the same intent 

I tire of playing games without the rules

My dizzy glass a mirror of this pique 

And yet my need to win creates a fool

But masked by what my lips elect to speak

So I will hide with undecided fate 

If words persuade like sky in shades of slate

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hig7yf/comment/m2zkcrh/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hihqa0/comment/m2zkvdy/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button 

When the sun retreats, when others sleep,

False strength crumbles away

Revealing what’s under the mask.

When memories call, silent tears fall,

A space too full to hold them

Disclosing emotional weakness.

As others doze, a mind implodes

With nightly internal wars

Exposing toxic scars.

When the world’s light dims, others happy-dream within,

Yet a brain is in battlefield, a soul is without a shield

Weakness is revealed, exposing deep scars that need healed.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hii8ge/comment/m2zgpia/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hijr1t/comment/m2zg9m6/

In the dark starry night of winter He is sitting alone with the shadows of his past, and wondering About the suddenness of life.

How everything he once loved has changed, And how he has lost the track of time.

There's a realm of darkness which exists within his mind, Which asks for control, But the heart denies. Despite being drowned in sorrow, This is a human heart darling, it tries and tries, To look for light, Which might make him feel A bit alive.

In few moments, Joy emerges, and in the very next it dies. Now is what he has, he thinks, He can't fight with the fleeting nature of time.

Sometimes we can fight with all we have, and sometimes we can only watch , As the things we love lose their spark over time, fading in hindsight, This is the poetry of life, This is the poetry of life.

Link 1:- https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/QNUPDla4mB Link 2:- https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/1M95C6wMQ7

O golden orb, thou sovereign of the sky,
Whose amber touch makes all creation bloom,
Why must thy splendor wane, thy glory die,
And leave the world in melancholy’s gloom?

Thy rays, once proud, now tremble, faint and meek,
Beneath the clouds that shroud thy visage fair;
The heavens weep, their tears upon my cheek,
And whisper grief upon the mournful air.

Oh, fleeting flame, dost thou not hear my plea,
To linger yet and stave the coming night?
What cruelty, this dance of destiny,
That beauty fades ere man can taste delight.

Yet in thy flight, thou teachest mortal eyes,
To cherish thee, though brief thy bright reprise.

Here are my two latest warm feedbacks for this community ❤️:

Feeback nº1

Feedback nº2

I held your hand
looked into your eyes
and saw a broken girl

You held on tight
you shed a tear
and spoke into my heart
“Promise to never leave”

This promise is more important to me than blood
For the day I break it, I may as well be dead

I remember the late night calls/ and the hollow, unwilling goodnights

I remember the tears he caused
And the lies he spun
But I told you “You’ll be alright”

I remember consoling you,
Trying to stick to my promise;
To never leaving your side

So when you posted sweet notes
I thought they were for me
No thanks to my pride

But turns out those cute messages
were to the dead weight at your feet
The dead to begin with relationship
That was just destine to repeat

He loves me, he loves me not
revolved in a tornado of emotion
His lies of love and other bullshit
poisoned you like a sweet but toxic potion

I know what he did, I know what he said
and how he made you feel alone

I only know of all this tragedy
From listening to your heart spill through the phone

My promise is my word, is my love, is my pain
But I think I deserve a bit more

Rather than ‘I should be in love’ but I can’t right now
because my heart is a little sore

Sometimes I wish you would open your eyes to me
Rather than the person pulling you down

Realise that he doesn’t want you to feel loved;
It seems he only wants you to drown

While I, on the other hand
almost drowned myself on the way

because all I could see
was a broken girl
staring into my eyes that day

//////////// why doesn't Reddit show three hyphens as a <hr />?

I wrote this poem when I was 15 and have never had the chance to share it till now.

Thanks for reading.

Feedback one
Feedback two

Why do I write as though someone will see? Why can't I let, My journal flow free?

I'm not the real me.

What am I afraid of, What do I hide? A damp darkness deep inside?

The sea of spaghetti, Where my brain should be. Isn't it simple? Be creative, be free.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/0y5eTNyFyV

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/gVVoAjCG82

I write a line
It feels fake
I try again
The same result

I feel pain
It roars inside
But on the page
My words meow

Links

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hhy5xd/comment/m2yu754/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hhfiqm/comment/m2yvl8j/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Oh, what would not I do?
To go back to the oblivious.
Blinded by inability,
to see the world is hideous.

Conflict and desolation-
overcoming all positive thought.
Drunk on desparation:
greed is what I sought.

Aspiration to rewind:
my wish- so narrow; so vast.
Desire, overruled by contradiction,
so I stay, grasping at the past.

Yet, the wish of adolescence,
No matter how much I may flaunt.
The need to have my life ahead,
is not really what I want.

The truth is: of what I know,
and of what I do not possess,
conflict and equate to detriment:
the inability of the content.

Materialism can not aid,
although, it does entice.
But, nor can the polarity-
minimalism does not suffice.

In truth, there is no way,
To guarantee a key to joy.
A key that, if you know of,
is impossible to attain.

And the curse of being aware,
although, envied by the obvlivious-
desired by the privileged without it,
will only lead to despair.

Why is the world so hideous?
So desolated beyond repair?
The ignorant is the resultant:
insidious to what once was fair.

And so, the question I ask again,
the thought that’s lead to this adieu-
the question poisoning my brain,
is oh, what would not I do?

This is my first poem. Is it too abstract? Is the meaning clarified well enough? Is the abstractness promoting interpretation or confusion? The full poem has a rhythm to it- is this rhythm too difficult to decrypt? Thank you

Comment 1 Comment 2

A metaphor for sentiment-
a chamber for the mind.
A reason for misconduct,
which a person is defined.

A facade for the offender,
the one of whom controls.
The author of our conscious being,
commands but does not show.

The mind and body contradict:
dispute, impugn and conflict.
Though, after all ambivalence,
predicament will constrict.

—————————————————

The mind will blame the body,
for delinquency or corruption.
But the master behind the puppet,
is the one who promotes destruction.

—————————————————-

Flesh and bone will pay the price-
the price of predestination.
As the one who judges morality,
controls foreordination.

Morality is destined;
free will is an illusion.
And to give the mind perception:
control is just delusion.

Resignation is acceptance,
as time remains impenetrable.
While, fate will guide your fortune,
through the end- the inevitable.

I don’t really write poems much but I wrote this a while ago and was wondering if it was any good. Can anyone find the rhythm (some words are pronounced quicker/slower to maintain a consistent tempo) and meaning? Is it too abstract?

Comment 1 Comment 2

What is a creature that learned to walk, to think and talk, and question

But never knew how to relive and accept, isolated because it tries to adapt, step by step it goes into the ocean

It’s too small for its own mind, it doesn’t have the wings to fly, but it wished to

This might be my last poem ever written, my last words ever said, I have so much to lose, but all of it is bad

I know that I know nothing, but nothing knows me too, it crawls up to my mind, And tells me what to do

I’m so bound to the dirt under my feet and I’m so mortal and weak, if I could just loose all my me, I think I’d be free

I look up at the sky and the stars that I see. Will I be one of them? I’d rather fly instead of be

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hi56y6/comment/m2ytx5m/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hibhub/comment/m2ytnyw/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I had myself
A problem, giant
When my soap got dirty
And defiant

I added water
Without success
Turning it into
A sudsy mess

That overflowed
And just my luck
Made an even
Bigger muck

That spread throughout
These whereabouts
To every corner
Of my house

And that is why,
I swear to you
This place ain’t clean,
It is true

1. https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hibhub/comment/m2yi303/
2. https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hi9dvh/comment/m2yhqqd/

I think the most mature thing I’ve ever done…

Is let myself be the villain in her eyes…

So I could no longer be the victim

So I could free myself from the pain of effort that was not reciprocated

So I could selfishly hurt her before she could finish hurting me

I ended the friendship

Because of the excuses

Because she could always make time for other people

Because of the lack of responses

Because of the flakiness, and always being late

Because I initiated everything…

Every conversation, every hang out

For years

Until slowly… you started caring less and less

You never realized how much you took me for granted

You’re busy, you’re life is hectic

Trust me… no one understands that more than me

But excuse after excuse after excuse

“Sorry” “sorry” “sorry”

“I’ll be better”

For months

And finally…

When I was not the one to reach out first

She disappeared entirely

You don’t get to do that…

How can you say you love me, how can you say we’re like family

If after 10 years of friendship you ignore me, you harm me, you’re not there for me

Just because I decided to take the weight of our friendship off my shoulders

For two months

She forgot I existed…

So yeah, call me the villain

Say I broke your heart

I only broke yours once…

You’ve been breaking mine for years

It’s not fair that I hurt you

But when I called…

I needed you

You said you’d call back

I knew it was a lie

When I asked to spend time with you

I needed you

You took a month to reply

I’m sorry I finally cracked under the pressure… I’m sorry I let it all out

It’s not fair… when you’ve always needed me too

Ever since we had our first sleepover at eight years old

How can you say you care… dangling that worm in front of me

Just to pull it back

Over and over and over

Again and again and again

Until every text is calculated

Until I’m scared to seem clingy

Just for checking in with her once a month… when we used to talk every day

Until I cry at the sight of her posts…

And all the times she’s been with friends

Until I’m hateful, and she’s the one person I could never hate

I’m tired of our chess game

I wanted my best friend back

And the worst part is… I need you, and you need me

But you need me for the friendship to survive…

And I need you because you are my friend

So sure, I’m the villain

My only apology is that I failed to communicate…

How deeply and frequently you hurt me

So that you wouldn’t feel the guilt you deserve

I’m sorry the end was so abrupt

I’m sorry, I’m so genuinely sorry

You didn’t see it coming

I guess I didn’t provide enough warnings

I thought two or three would suffice

And you apologized so consistently

So you must have known…

And I hate how you make me feel sorry

Does one apology from me amount to all of the apologies from you?

Just because I miss you as much as you miss me

Just like when we were young girls, but now we’re 18

(Sorry this is so long I just really needed to get this out) https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/MeIzSDpWBI

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/vyz7vYSrnj

Why am I scared to death

I'll only lose the life I love

Beautiful world limited by mine

Assholes shouting begger

While I'm feeling weeks behind

Fuck the rat race but I'm losing my time

It's hurts to be in a hurry

Whenever you're standing still

Victims of circumstances

No choice of when we wake and no longer feel

How many pieces left are there to steal

The clock always comes back around

Even when I become ground

It's only been me inside

I wish you could be let in at the end

(I don't know exactly what I do, but randomly through out the day, green or sober, and I have shit come to me and I put it to a rhythm I feel. Just some random pentameter. I jotted down notebooks of these whether they are the needle or straw for the haystack)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/L5IY8T7eC4

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ZB33oZGlEy

He is a sailor of the highest calibre-
Gallant and pigheaded.
His anchor is of the densest iron-
Steadfast and unyielding

His men are of the finest breed-
Tough and wild.
His ship is of the sharpest steel-
Driven and immovable

The waves come
From a distant rumble-
Harsh, unrelenting, apathetic
Their foam stings hiss
Like arrows to the boar.
Wet, freezing.

The storms come
From thunder-cracks
From echoed heaven-roars.
Primal countenance, those
Cloud-maw snarls.
Crushing,
Bitter.

The anchor sways like paper in the wind
The men work like dogs-
Snarling, gnashing
The ship groans as the salt strips its hide.

The Captain bores ahead-
Gallant,
Pigheaded.

_________________________

1

2

A satin whisper unfurls in shadows,

Where hands and time slither in coils.

The neon dusk, a clinging oracle

Beckons beneath rotted halos.

Eyes, a labyrinth of whiskey fog,

Glance over mirrors cracked by sin,

Yet somewhere within the silk of sleaze,

A queen reclines, wrapped in her grin.

Her crown of tar-streaked constellations

Calls to supplicants bound in dreams.

She births illusions, seducing time

With forgotten vows and splitting seams.

The gutter yawns like a preacher's hymn,

Drenched in the oils of failing grace.

Lovers crawl in, exchanging names,

Their shadows bleeding, erasing space.

A voyeur’s sweat, a gambler's nerve,

Ink the echoes of her laugh,

And there, her gaze, a velvet lash

Snaps souls like shattered glass.

Each kiss, a coin, tossed to the storm,

Of trembling hands on mossy streets.

Guilt clings as dew, but softly too,

In sleazy flings, of dread sheets.

Oh, goddess of the yesteryear,

Who danced in alleys without shame,

Do I fear the traps or the siren song,

Or my heart's delight in the tainted flame?

Beneath the stars, black velvet spills

The allure remains, flaking fear.

Her throne, a shadow, her court, desire,

Still haunting my cursed reverie.

critique 1 critique 2

pour the gasoline
mixed with 
propane and kerosene
I invite you
to watch Love
as she
ignites me…

I

II

I lay in bed awake at night and I feel I am alone While all else sleeps I sit in dark and feel I am alone The sunlight comes I hear a song but still I feel alone I look through glass at birds in flight but still I feel alone I hold a rope and walk the streets but still I feel alone I walk down halls with people all around me but still I feel alone I see a face speak to me but still I feel alone I walk outside through wind and rain and feel I am alone I walk inside to find somewhere dry but I feel I am alone My face turns dry but eyes stay wet why do I feel alone I think out far to find someone I wonder how long must I be alone I ask to time what is to be of me I need to know will I die alone

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/rWCzM5FXhg https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/VnRImoBG3G

I

am

age,

time,

a bold

sphere,

etching

of stones,

this lived

foundation.

A rebuilding

of our stories

onto fragments

collected: Babel

ascending to time-

-less eternity—from

a cycle of mountains.

From here, I will rise. I.

------------------------------

II.

Stars are dreams, are tears, are histories splintered,

sewn by gods careless, or tipsy, or kind,

always above, never within,

but spiraling, spiraling,

calling you in.

\

Constellations map our secrets,

threads drawn taut through time’s loom,

we all are the weavers, the woven, the knots,

sleying chaos to form, form to essence, to string,

and in each thread—fire—burning brilliance, defiance of dark.

\

Every nova a scream of rebirth,

each collapse a cradle for earth:

you are of dust, you are of eternity.

Nothingness takes no form—but existence.

\

You—

flesh of the fleeting,

finite dancer—feel this—

the pull of gravity not as a prison,

but as an embrace, the axis of orbits,

bodies colliding to form galaxies anew,

cosmos kissing itself in fragments of you:

moons dragging oceans, comets tearing skies,

collisions birthing light—there is no end to this yearning,

no end to this spinning, no end to this fugue of light and void—

you are sung into being, over and over, melody grafted onto the silence.

\

And as the infinite unfolds its petaled arms,

we climb not Babel, but a ladder of stars,

not toward God, but to ourselves—

our echoing laughter dances

on the rim of everything.

\

Being of beings—amoeba of stars:

I. I am you, you are we,

we are one.

\

To live

is to spiral, to spiral

is to shine, is to be—a helix.

Link1

Link2

Part 1 is supposed to follow the formula (N + 1) letters, starting at 1 and reaching 18. Part 2 is supposed to resemble the flow of a helix, always slanting either downwards or upwards in a spiral-like fashion.

I see two rivers

joining.

One cuts through the earth

while gurgling

the sketches of the sky,

the other runs noisily,

like one who craves attention,

dark with mud.

Along the path

they join

into a turbid flow.

So you and I

when we meet

black water is born

and the white heron

that comes to our shores

gets stained.

/////////////////////

I am Italian and you can find the original language version below. I put a lot of effort into the translation and any advice would be really helpful! thank you very much

**titolo**: Le sponde di noi

Vedo due fiumi

unirsi.

Uno taglia la terra

mentre gorgheggia

colore del cielo,

l'altro corre rumoroso,

come chi desidera attenzioni,

scuro di fango.

Lungo il sentiero,

si uniscono

in uno scorrere torbido.

Così io e te,

quando ci incontriamo

nasce acqua nera

e l'airone bianco

che viene alle nostre sponde

si sporca.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hhlhvb/comment/m2uj4h7/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hhijlt/comment/m2ujj6p/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Fallow skin from coursing thoughts

And echoes of the field

With all the kernels in their slots

Where none can fairly yield.

Not years ago the tillage climbed

Up towards the atmosphere

Under the care of hearts sublimed

And minds for all to hear.

Now whispering among the heads

Held up by mass of crop:

“Although we sleep sound in our beds

Procurement cannot stop.”

Announcing now: modernity,

The wonderful combine!

Man and tool’s fraternity

Charts paths up swift inclines.

Then why do tides arising fail

To lift all but the Ark

And those who claim to taste from grail

(Yet dally in the dark)?

Some hands drew ire from above,

Their punishments were swift.

Still, some thought to revolt with love

Could be the future’s gift.

Urges cohered and made a fist

Striking metal flesh

Banners emerging from the mist

Declare we start afresh.

Tendrils retreating to their caves.

Beat down, they lie dormant.

But as the shade eats at light waves

Power will not repent.

If fancy courted industry

And flight and whimsy thrived

There’d sound a thousand symphonies

Praising the uncontrived.

But outward looking overwhelms;

There is no recompense

After the dreamers took the helms

And knew not where nor whence.

So now through dust we walk, unmoored,

Wishing to travel back

To times when grain was marked and stored

And warring spirits lack.

Years later, when the soil returned

Strong voices shouted loud:

“We’ll work to reclaim what fools burned.

 Citizens – make us proud!”

On looked gravely wrinkled faces,

Knowing what was to come.

We are but echoes of ourselves;

Resounding, pounding drums.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hhenqh/comment/m2w6g9v/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1hi0qzw/comment/m2w3mki/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

O voracious light, unmerciful, eternal.

I circle near,

Just a shadow,

A shaky sliver of thought

In the vastness of your quasar's pull.

You devour me whole, piece by piece,

Leaving behind nothing but

A mere shadow of man,

A hollow husk.

Even if your radiance incinerates and blinds,

I can't help but look up to you

Because I want for the searing touch

Of your dazzling, glaring flames,

Even as I fade and crumble to ashes,

My sense of self disintegrated

So completely.

Until you're all that's left.

Being burned by you is having a purpose,

Embracing ruin,

And willingly giving up control

To the destruction that is love.

That ‘is’ love.

Feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qhptHFLIFy

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/Qgfa03wthZ

Time fades.

It passes, it moves, it changes.

Time fades ———————————— But what if my scars don’t?

What if I stay still, unmoved, without growth? ———————————— They tell my story;

the story of anger and rage selflessly,

They tell my story. ———————————— As time fades;

If my scars don’t do the same,

May they tell the story.

Tell the story of a broken young girl

On a surviving woman’s body,

As time fades. ———————————— Feedback: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/XwhQG3Pien

Feedback: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/RiqqkztM8Q

Words are constrained happiness.

Empathy towards our sadness.

I struggle to find meaning in
Poetic meaninglessness.

Thoughts are always constrained in
The over repeated mundane.

"Prose is just pathetic!"
Or so say the poetic.

I will not help redefine
What cannot be defined.

'Cause I cannot comprehend
Everyone's thoughts in the end.

Human evanescence?

I struggle, again, to find the meaning.

He did not one, but, two things

I wish I adored life at a younger age,

Composing heartfelt poetry to my vivid love of feeling

And the gentle risen larynx of music I never pursued;

Yet, I know chasing it today would not feel the same,

My doubts will always remind of the beautiful symphonies that grew beyond me;

It is not the disparity of my age between then and now that held me back,

But the confidence which had slipped away,

It is the brave ‘me’ who had left my side,

Left my side just now tomorrow and next week,

Loosening the noose to enlightenment

So my cowardly self may hang it another time!,

It is the ‘just-last-month’ of ‘me,’ who said suffering was not lasting,

That failures could not wound me,

That the world cannot hate,

At least, "it only is," as it should be;

It is the paranoia at nothing in particular, the conflict within me stewing insidious regret,

Sitting on the comforts of an agreeable chair, on my empty thoughts where depth leaves fleeting,

It is the ‘me’ who writes! that curls and dies at the fruitful losses, staying as a frightened child

In the hug of self-fulfilling prophecy;

Thus spoke imagined Zarathustra, my deluded Zarathustra:

"Amor fati! Embrace it all! The life, the death, and the misery in our lives,”

Seek it out joyously;

So I danced barefoot atop shattered glass, dreams wrapped in barbed wire,

Christened in the bourbon of disillusionment;

Do I dare to expose myself recklessly?,

Do I dare? to kiss

In a naked triptych of lethargy streets?, of metric hearts, and frozen breath?;

It is easier to say “abandon all doubts!” than to fight against weighted consequence,

Chasing the ghost of infinity through dim-lit alleyways;

There is a path, there is,

There is the path of ambiguity and floating non-geometrics,

Stumbling up then down and from side to nowhere,

Days in doubt,

Rejecting leaps of faith as diseases of mind fueling the memetic dynamo,

Becoming King Arthur, singing love to every Guinevere

Across wuthering storms atop a hill

In the garden of heaths;

Am I the votary of a faith that alters me?,

Is it proper to learn from my betters, to change my identity?,

Losing myself in deconstruction, reconstruction,

Metamorphosis into a change that is not I, without anyone to hear it,

Not even I,

If so, without a ear, will I recognize tragedy gazing back?,

If so, are my actions an action intended by me, for me?,

How would I know?, what do I know?, am I truly knowing?;

I cannot say with any number of epiphanies, not with a belief fully trusting,

It is this fatigue and weakness over uncertainty that drives me mad!,

The actions committed to thoughtlessly,

The inaction and missed opportunities,

Done too much, not enough, never enough, change and grow and,

Always inefficient, insufficient,

It has become evident, my impulse desires all too much

Of everything.

Link1

Link2

What is truth —

but a slant of light —

dancing between —

the lines of dusk?

What is hope—

if not burdened by storms —

seeking the sun?

As a beacon despite chaos,

Is the sunrise —

breaking through shadows—

a promise in disguise?

What is longing —

if not distant star,

hope guiding what's lost —

to the places we are?

What is memory —

is it like the flicker of flame,

returning through ages —

yet changing the name?

Like transient stories,

rewritten, explained—

is timeless an essence,

narrator exchanged?

What is love —

if not a mirror —

splintering into colors — vivid, fleeting,

the thrill of possibilities—

reflecting an endless maze?

My heart —

a fragile winged seed,

a bright ember's glow;

beyond the void of night,

I find solace —

in cool whispers of rain.

One | Two.

1. along the trails i walk i find myself sometimes
2. bound between betweens
3. caught up in a horse blind march
4. dust layering my shoes
5. eroding the leather underneath
6. fearing that what if the
7. garden of eden lies
8. hidden across a vanishing trail
9. i am too afraid to take.
10. just
11. keep me alive for a bit longer
12. let
13. me
14. need selfishly,
15. occupy just a little more space
16. promise I'll exist somewhere
17. quietly
18. remember me when you can
19. sorries i spit easier than lies
20. trusting arms i never fall into
21. unknown to all the hands i have held
22. vain, all my searches for hope
23. worries that fruit anxiety
24. xannies dissolved in my blood
25. yarns of fate tied like a noose
26. zelous in penning my pain

[1] [2]

For a moment there, I felt good
It was a rare jolt of happiness
In reality, I was just really drunk

For a period there, I needed alcohol
It was the only way to catch a break
In reality, I was just quite bored

For a second there, I thought I was addicted
It was impossible to resist the bottle
In reality, I just liked the mouth feel

I worry that people think I’m a drunk
I just like how it burns in my mouth and throat

For a moment there, I was happy
Everyone thought I was drunk
In reality, I really was just happy

There's more on Instagram!

1 / 2