#writercreed

[anastasiasyah]

“I am beautiful from being tainted by the dust of the remains that I used to love.

— “Immoral Beauty” from Infernal Feelings by anastasiasyah

[almaaspoetry]

In English we say, "I miss you," but in poetry we say, "Your absence is a hollow ache, a silent echo that reverberates through my days and nights."

I walk through the spaces we once shared, and the world seems dimmer, the colors muted. The laughter that once filled the air is now a distant memory, a ghostly whisper that lingers at the edge of my consciousness. The scent of your presence still haunts the rooms, a lingering trace that clings to the corners, refusing to be forgotten.

The days stretch long and empty, each moment a reminder of your absence. The sun rises and sets, casting long shadows that stretch across the floor, mimicking the void within me. The stars at night seem dimmer, their light no longer enough to chase away the darkness that has settled in my heart.

I find myself searching for you in the little things: in the way the wind rustles the leaves, in the quiet moments of dawn, in the fleeting smiles of strangers. Each reminder a bittersweet pang, a reminder of what was and what is no longer.

Your absence is a melody that plays softly in the background of my life, a tune that I cannot escape. It is the silence that follows a symphony, the quiet that lingers after the music has stopped. It is a weight that I carry with me, a part of me that is missing, a piece of my soul that is incomplete.

In poetry, I say, "You are the unspoken verse, the missing line in my song, the empty space in my heart that only you can fill."

[azukilynn]

Time to Time

There are different kinds of crazy in my world.

There's the head crazy, the heart crazy, and the soul crazy.

The head crazy ticks and murmurs and rings.

The heart crazy is a longing, an ache of fluttering wings.

The soul crazy, well, she howls and dreams and sings.

And, from tIme to time, I am at least one of these things.

Azuki Lynn

[elycwinters]

Love

I take your hand in mine entwining our fingers as we look into each other's eyes.

Up above our head a sparkling velvet blue watches as we love.

~ Ely C. Winters.

[cosmic-blogs]

HOME SHAPED HEART

I am making a home,

Within myself.

And it is tough.

As I grow older

And winters become rough.

I worry if the foundation,

Is strong enough 

To hold up

All versions of 

me, from all pasts 

If my walls should  be 

stark and high.

Or have 

More windows

To look at the stars

The night casts.

If i will be able to

Withstand impending rain.

Now that I know,

Joy is a momentary flash flood,

Upon a barren desert of pain.

I acknowledge the worry

Hold it close

And tell it to rest.

I want my home

Within me

To be a sanctuary.

A place to rest

When I return

From adventures of life.

I want to walk from room to room

And in the vaults of my heart

With a song upon my lips

For the beauty 

That I may find.

I want to welcome

Reluctant love,

Enough,

To feel, finally at home.

I need to clear out spaces

For gardens with butterflies.

I want a waterfall of giggles

To wash away all grime.

I want a heart shaped home

With bricks, of gratitude

And a roof, of everything enough.

I will put soft warm lights

Outside the door.

The kind that make,

The lonely feel safe

From harshness of glare.

I will build my home

Inside the vales of gentleness,

Where the breeze,

On a warm summer afternoon 

Will be much needed

Respite for my friends.

I have to be gone for long.

Into the  frightening silent,

wilderness of self.

To pick out pieces of beauty

From dangerous woods.

To gather and to rake.

To draw out a map

And a plan for

My home shaped heart,

To house all my goods.

I have the strength,

I have to remind myself 

As I pave the path back

To myself.

I will make my home

Within myself, 

From silver curtains 

Of full moon nights.

And the quietning that comes

From a dawn about to break in love.

Even if takes all my will and

The  milk of my bones.

It is the hardest thing 

To make,

I know,

Because I have to do it alone.

.

.

.

.

[dirty-milk]

Spectral symphony

suffers the surrender of the savage;

do you feel the riot receding,

paved for a pale passage?

The war drum beat of

your heart abates, misstates

the melody as misery of memento mori;

glissando grieving given

grace and goddamn glory.

[callme-hafsa]

سمجھ دار

समझदार

A curse or a blessing of knowing .

8th grade, a call made out in class

A girl has grown today

It’s a myth to address adult

Call this girl a sophisticated one

Or trend it with “very demure, very mindful”

A girl has been prudent today

Most considerate, considerate, considerate.

8th grade, applauses collected as benediction

Blushes and smiles, pride and prejudice

Garland of childhood loss, mistaken for achievement.

I do wonder act and accountability

Loss of carelessness, carriage of worry and thoughtfulness

A sea entered without a shore to return.

I wonder what it would be like

To be a derailed train and never be a derail

To cut the fruits, without getting cut

To not know and still thrive

To give and expect something in return

I wonder…

~ Hafsa Shakeel

[graff1980]

I keep forgetting that silence is golden cuz noise keeps distracting us from antique treasures and unrevealed epiphanies.

-2023

[env0writes]

Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.22.24 “First Step To Being Good; Is Being Bad"

Whether you show up, or glow, up, or die All that matters, really Is “Did you try? Did you cry?” Survive a bit longer All that matters, really Is, “Did you make it? Did you fake it?” Just the simple act of doing it It doesn’t matter, really “Did you do it well? Did you give it your all?” Is it really your best if you give it every day? What’s an average if you do it that way? Take a rest, walk the lap Show up, do it, and take that damn nap

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @env0

[tinydreams14]

Grateful people always encounter ungrateful people.

-nuzhat

[sarah-irura]

"Plqce for my head"

Is there an actual safe haven? A place to unwind, be free from criticism.... A place to utilize our uniqueness in such a manner that outweighs our flaws, a place where our regrets are no longer a thing, where missteps are only viewed as way to gain wisdom in this vast reality...maybe it's not really a place but rather a community that actually chooses to extend grace to self and others, an act of gratitude from the One whom all life emanates from, if only people can distance themselves from 'self preservation' to a 'thriving community' since walking together, as one, for another, would bring about more positive changes than any segregation based on myriads of human based distinctions.

Sarah. Irura

[mildreflections]

Trying to battle writer's block

Hi everyone,

It's been quite some time since I have posted on Tumblr. Truth be told life got busy and it got hard to write consistently. I know there are a lot of writers here, some of whom I have interacted with, and some of whom I have adored for their work. I know it can get really hard to write and you can sometimes feel blocked and demotivated.

Drawing from my personal struggle with writing, I am building something for us writers. It is a tool to combat the dread of staring at a blank page and I need some help from the community here. I would love to be able to chat or speak to you about your methods to keep inspired. And to bounce my ideas and version zero of my product. If anyone is interested in trying it out, you can find the version 0 here: https://penpalai.netlify.app/

Please note, that I am working on it as I go, so please save your work separately too. (currently available on desktops/laptops only)

Do let me know if you would be interested in talking about your experience with the block too. I would love to get to know your process. Looking forward to interacting with this wonderful community!

Best,

Mildreflections

[juan-francisco-palencia]

El mismo de siempre.

La felicidad es una ocasión especial que no reconoce credos ni razas nunca margina a nadie, incluso ni a ella misma al sentirse ignorada, al entregarsé. De modo que nunca será tardé para recibirla como una visita intempestiva ni aún porque llegará tarde. "Nunca cierres la puerta a la felicidad."

—  Juan Francisco Palencia.

[elycwinters]

Birth of a Star

Look over there! That small little spot of light, do you see it?

Look closely and you will see beyond the silence of the cosmos, look closely and you will see how that tiny, near insignificant light is a star.

Do you see it now? Tell me, are you in awe as to how silence and darkness can bring forth such light?

~ Ely C. Winters

[cosmic-blogs]

AN ESCAPE WITH A FAIRY

I understand enchantment.

I know fairies by name

They hide in the

Lavander hues of daisies,

Playing scented games.

I have met elves.

On nights when moon

Bled silver slivers

On fireflies.

A little girl pigtailed

In red ribbons

The colour of dried roses

reading in the library, 

Her eyes deep as sea.

She looks like me.

Star dust 

Falling from her fingers.

On the glossy pages

Of folk lores and

Fluffy stories.

Fluttering her eyes 

Like waves, holding

Paperboats,

Creased newspapers, folded into

Into mighty ships,

Worded paperboats with

Headlines for masts

Bobbing up and down

In the ripples of her oceanic mind.

I saw her and her world

So real.

You may call it imagination 

I know it was not.

She fought with ogres 

In broad daylight 

And her fairies clapped

With dainty fingers

In pretty lace gloves.

Their delicate wings excitedly

egged her on.

Their soft lilac feathers

Smelling of lavender songs.

Wisps of grass 

In glossy books,

Hiding their tiny forms.

Cheeks blushing from

Warmth of golden sun

Sparkles on their dainty feet

Scattering as they run.

I lived with them

In my pig tailed years.

They showed me beautiful caves

With golden orbs.

And diamonds so soft

Round and clear

Like a translucent tear

I know magic

Because there was some.

You cannot teach me otherwise.

I have known enchantment

Not for a few moments,

But for years.

Inside pages of

Library books,

Was that beautiful world

I lived in

For long ,as a little girl.

.

.

[dirty-milk]

I love you with my liver,

litter the livid -

viscid and vivid;

I love you with my lungs.

luck-lust lunatics

lacking labor limits -

I love you with my lips,

lisping though the lines

minding the mad minutes.

With my kidneys -

kissing chaos crossed with karma.

I love you with my appendix

and we don’t really know what was for even

but it’s yours.

Yours;

every ventricle vibrating,

every atrium aspirating;

heart holy

sung slowly.