Embrace The Twilight: Follow @thetwlighttalesmith for Poetry Bliss
Shaina Tranquilino
April 24, 2024
Are you a seeker of solace in the delicate dance of words? Do you find refuge in the rhythm of verses that stir the soul? If poetry is your sanctuary, then allow me to introduce you to a haven that echoes with the whispers of twilight and the enchantment of tales woven in verse. Follow @thetwlighttalesmith, and embark on a journey where every line is a brushstroke painting the canvas of emotions.
In a world inundated with noise, finding moments of tranquility can feel like discovering a hidden gem. Poetry, with its ability to distill the complexities of existence into a few carefully chosen words, offers precisely that—a refuge from the chaos, a sanctuary for introspection. In the realm of poetic expression, @thetwlighttalesmith shines as a beacon of inspiration.
With each post, @thetwlighttalesmith invites you to traverse landscapes of imagination, to wander through forests of metaphor, and to dance under the moonlight of symbolism. Whether it's the gentle caress of a haiku or the sprawling narrative of a free verse, every poem crafted by @thetwlighttalesmith is a testament to the power of language to evoke emotions, provoke thoughts, and kindle connections.
But @thetwlighttalesmith offers more than just poetry; it offers a community—a gathering of like-minded souls who find solace, solidarity, and serenity in the written word. It's a place where readers become travelers, and each poem becomes a stepping stone in the journey of self-discovery.
So, if you're yearning for a moment of respite, a breath of fresh air amidst the hustle and bustle of daily life, look no further than @thetwlighttalesmith. Follow for poetry, and let the twilight tales carry you away on wings of imagination.
In a world that often seems too loud, too fast, and too chaotic, @thetwlighttalesmith stands as a reminder that beauty can be found in the quiet moments, in the spaces between the words, and in the twilight that lingers long after the sun has set. Follow @thetwlighttalesmith, and rediscover the magic of poetry—the magic of the human heart, laid bare in verse.
Instagram: @thetwilighttalesmith
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Yellow neighborhood
Riding a bike
With four wheels and your mother holding you
You're one speck in this world
But you're the puzzle piece that matters
Right?
You are riding your bike again
Almost sunset, the sky hazy and orange
Marigold fields golden like the afterglow
The sunset and mother are your only audience
When you are learning to balance for the first time
When you are learning to grow
.
You're so much older now,
Taking the metro to work
In a red bus, clutching your briefcase
Your feet aching for the pedals
Your feet aching to be rid of your red heels
Papers leaving red paper cuts on your
Yellow neighborhood brooch
Unprofessionalism is your only reason
To stare out at the grey buildings and at
greyer children's static eyes, glued to a phone
Back at your hometown, the yellow neighborhood
Because the daylight sky a sunkissed bliss
The sunset tasting like sweet champagne and
The sea smelling like gold
Those marigold fields miss cycle tracks on dirt
You try to cycle again, in those same fields
The grains stick to your skin like a last hug
Your feet learn again, tap dance without
The rhythm or shiny black shoes
You fall, scrapes knees, determination bleeding
Try again, the fields say
You ignore them, turn away, escaping in a gray car
.
At the epitome of the ladder, are you not?
Cocktail gowns and cocktails in your hand
Both unnatural, unfamiliar, uncertain
You’re the red in the sea of grays
Sticking out like a sore thumb,
The baby in the graveyard, the laughter in somber
Your feet ache under your high heels
You see your brooch fade a little too
You're stuck in a noir, at the ending of the film
Where the heroine wins something she
Did not want to win
Your waist has been hugged one too many times
You turn away, looking back once, then fading
.
Back in your yellow neighborhood
You're guilty in a sea of welcoming,
red in the sunlight’s glow
Your mothers shaking hands hold you again
Her frail bangles glimmer to reassure you
To let go of your guilt ridden reads
You both come back again
Riding your bicycle in a field of marigold
The marigolds bloom brighter than ever
Your red fades to orange like the sunset
The sea smells like gold and
The sunset tastes like sweet champagne
The grains hug you, as you balance again
Your flimsy bike held you up again
Your mother lets go of you
You're riding, racing, pedaling
You could never leave your yellow neighborhood
Its the only high better than success
While the city was where your apartment lies
This is where your home wept, and smiled again
.
Riding a bike
With no one holding you
Other than yourself and the grainy hugs
You're one speck in this world,
You may not be the puzzle piece that matters
But you are the the only yellow in the rainbow
Glowing when the world is bittersweet
And that is all that matters
Right?
.
.
aureatemoonshine
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Wandering over the layers
of fooling dense smog,
invading the nooks and corners
sheltering with smothering maze.
They March steadily
towards me.
Towards me, they come
with enormous explosives.
Holding hands with the abstracts
knocking over the door,
banging on and on so harshly
until I go berserk madly.
Messengers knocking over,
ready to besiege my territory.
I hold hands, pushing their heads
into the ground I bury.
Ignorance accompanies me
until I get saturated
in the smoke- that
keeps me going.
It keeps me going
I gladly march towards the South.
Towards the south happens to be
the dead-end of my cognizance.
At the end, the dead-end,
they wait for me
with evil smirks,
they giggle and smuggle.
They smuggle some of me,
some of me get snatched away.
The rest of me hovers around.
I hover around without any rest.
I do not walk, I fly.
I have always wanted to fly.
Fly over the heads with the clouds.
Here I fly being carved into a mould.
I'm moulded but I'm locked away.
Locked away in their heads,
keeping house within my little head.
I get lost on the way.
I get lost on the way,
terrified to have anchored down
to the bizarre abstracts,
playing around within my head.
I see! I see it very clearly.
Do not get over-excited.
Yes, you live my fractions,
as long as I stay bedazzled.
As long as I breathe,
for the days my body retains,
keeping up with the human play and
put hands together for the chains.
Towards the light then I ascend,
locking them up back
in the deepest dungeon.
They never knew that I would.
Am I free?
I can never know.
Jingles ringing
faraway from jiggling.
Jiggling, testing my tolerance.
I run and
jaywalk through
the soul seeking headspace.
I run, run and run
until I stop.
Stop to wait, for the death
to feed on my leftover life.
-vaishdas
Got the picture from Pinterest.
Dm for credit
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