POEM OF THE MONTH ~ JANUARY 2020
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Forum Posts: 5134
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
154
Joined 9th Nov 2015 Forum Posts: 5134
Kintsugi
(sonnet)
Cherished as only broken things can be,
Fallen to earth, with shattered pieces tossed.
An angel heart, once whole, shattered holy,
In black abandoned hope, eternal, lost.
No way in stolen time to reconnect.
No way to harvest fractured lines again.
No way these ruined walls can reerect'.
No way to cleanse this unintended sin.
But in this darkness willing hands embrace.
With studied calm all puzzled parts put right,
All jagged curves align and move in place,
And set with fire, with burning, golden light.
And so a life with all its scars adorn,
In glowing wounds, more lovely than was born.
Kintsugi (also called Kintsukuroi) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using gold and silver lacquers with the idea that by emphasizing the repaired damage, the piece is made more beautiful by the uniqueness of the break.(Explanation added after the comment sequence below).
Cherished as only broken things can be,
Fallen to earth, with shattered pieces tossed.
An angel heart, once whole, shattered holy,
In black abandoned hope, eternal, lost.
No way in stolen time to reconnect.
No way to harvest fractured lines again.
No way these ruined walls can reerect'.
No way to cleanse this unintended sin.
But in this darkness willing hands embrace.
With studied calm all puzzled parts put right,
All jagged curves align and move in place,
And set with fire, with burning, golden light.
And so a life with all its scars adorn,
In glowing wounds, more lovely than was born.
Kintsugi (also called Kintsukuroi) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using gold and silver lacquers with the idea that by emphasizing the repaired damage, the piece is made more beautiful by the uniqueness of the break.(Explanation added after the comment sequence below).
Written by Hepcat61
(geoff cat)
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wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1858
Tyrant of Words
153
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1858
Layla
Forum Posts: 1216
Fire of Insight
7
Joined 3rd May 2018Forum Posts: 1216
48 hours left to close this comp..Look around, I'm sure there are other hidden gems which need a spotlight.
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_shadoe_
yiyi
Forum Posts: 577
yiyi
Tyrant of Words
54
Joined 25th Apr 2013Forum Posts: 577
Erotic_Goddess
Forum Posts: 87
Fire of Insight
9
Joined 1st Mar 2016Forum Posts: 87
Bleed With Me
Two demons found each other
parasites upon our auras
Yours found the worst in me
or was it - a conspiracy?
I'd never hurt you
never!
Despite this truth
when we're together
we bleed these days
as much as ever
It's not you that triggers me
I'm sure I'm not attacking you...
Yet funny little words like bees
sting our souls with great malease
Worst of all the two of us
will never see it coming
Yet I insist we take the risk
Come here
sit
and bleed with me
parasites upon our auras
Yours found the worst in me
or was it - a conspiracy?
I'd never hurt you
never!
Despite this truth
when we're together
we bleed these days
as much as ever
It's not you that triggers me
I'm sure I'm not attacking you...
Yet funny little words like bees
sting our souls with great malease
Worst of all the two of us
will never see it coming
Yet I insist we take the risk
Come here
sit
and bleed with me
Written by EdibleWords
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Broken Ballerina Dancer
Today, I am greeted by
a moss covered path, my vision
of profound joy fallen from a
neutral sky leaves me mute
Vintage film has lost its shape,
cracking like the face of love
without you.
Your delicate touch, like
fingerless wings sweeping
across my flesh, leaving tiny
bits of down as soft as powdered
talc.
Parts of me harden by the overpowering sensation I feel,
as I lose myself in the patchwork
of your fragrance.
The world, broken by fault has
placed us in a twisted box with
a crooked ballerina dancer
The music has stopped playing
it's sweet chorus of she loves
him, he loves her.
Wait in the secret compartment
at the bottom of this box empty without a navel.
Cries run between clouds that submerge themselves into
unfinished rainbows that dictate
who we must be.
They deny my claim to move
like fluid in neutral shades of
my choosing
Mountains of granite graphically crumble, as their symbols arrange themselves in the ravine where countless tears are bottled.
Quench the scorched embers of
a lovesick fruited fig dropping
her seeds of wanton love.
Sterile ground sucked dry of understanding.
Let me mother those in need,
let me father those who want,
without your sticky label of
masculine, feminine it's
residue has stained my shirt.
a moss covered path, my vision
of profound joy fallen from a
neutral sky leaves me mute
Vintage film has lost its shape,
cracking like the face of love
without you.
Your delicate touch, like
fingerless wings sweeping
across my flesh, leaving tiny
bits of down as soft as powdered
talc.
Parts of me harden by the overpowering sensation I feel,
as I lose myself in the patchwork
of your fragrance.
The world, broken by fault has
placed us in a twisted box with
a crooked ballerina dancer
The music has stopped playing
it's sweet chorus of she loves
him, he loves her.
Wait in the secret compartment
at the bottom of this box empty without a navel.
Cries run between clouds that submerge themselves into
unfinished rainbows that dictate
who we must be.
They deny my claim to move
like fluid in neutral shades of
my choosing
Mountains of granite graphically crumble, as their symbols arrange themselves in the ravine where countless tears are bottled.
Quench the scorched embers of
a lovesick fruited fig dropping
her seeds of wanton love.
Sterile ground sucked dry of understanding.
Let me mother those in need,
let me father those who want,
without your sticky label of
masculine, feminine it's
residue has stained my shirt.
Written by Valeriya
(Valeriya Long)
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Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Forum Posts: 5134
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
154
Joined 9th Nov 2015 Forum Posts: 5134
To Oochie Wally
I’m sorry for the times I screamed,
For the times I didn’t understand our genes,
Because in the beginning I didn’t know there something was wrong,
When you kept repeating everything you heard and went along,
Echoing every word I said,
Echoing every word I said.
Oh, your face.
I remember that time we sat in the restaurant,
When the band started playing right up front,
And even though I knew the music was loud,
You started crying so hard in the crowd,
I didn’t know what was wrong,
I didn’t know what was wrong.
Oh, your tears.
I recall the times I had to take time off work,
Because in kindergarten class they thought you were a jerk,
You just wouldn’t listen to the teacher,
But we didn’t know the features,
It was like you were trapped inside a prison,
You had the classic signs of autism.
Oh, your eyes.
I thought “No, not my son, how can this happen to me”,
But it wasn’t about me, it was about solving the puzzling mystery,
It was about seeing the world through your eyes,
Because in discovering you I would be able to sympathize,
And then understand you more,
And then understand you more.
Oh, your smile.
I know that your mom and I couldn’t work it out,
But I had to heal to deal someway or somehow,
Because I looked back and I thought,
There were many reasons why we fought,
I too was on the spectrum,
I too was on the spectrum.
Oh, my reflection.
Forgive me for not being a better father in those days,
I made my choices and that took me farther away,
But the short time we spend together fulfills my heart,
Even though we so spend so much time apart,
And that what gets me inside,
And that what gets me inside.
Oh, my tears.
I’m sorry I pulled away as the years flew by,
But there we many nights when I’d cry,
Thinking I should’ve been better, written you more letters,
Calling you or texting you saying “Son I’ll love you forever.”
But then I hear you say the same words,
But this time you’re using your own words.
Oh your smile.
For the times I didn’t understand our genes,
Because in the beginning I didn’t know there something was wrong,
When you kept repeating everything you heard and went along,
Echoing every word I said,
Echoing every word I said.
Oh, your face.
I remember that time we sat in the restaurant,
When the band started playing right up front,
And even though I knew the music was loud,
You started crying so hard in the crowd,
I didn’t know what was wrong,
I didn’t know what was wrong.
Oh, your tears.
I recall the times I had to take time off work,
Because in kindergarten class they thought you were a jerk,
You just wouldn’t listen to the teacher,
But we didn’t know the features,
It was like you were trapped inside a prison,
You had the classic signs of autism.
Oh, your eyes.
I thought “No, not my son, how can this happen to me”,
But it wasn’t about me, it was about solving the puzzling mystery,
It was about seeing the world through your eyes,
Because in discovering you I would be able to sympathize,
And then understand you more,
And then understand you more.
Oh, your smile.
I know that your mom and I couldn’t work it out,
But I had to heal to deal someway or somehow,
Because I looked back and I thought,
There were many reasons why we fought,
I too was on the spectrum,
I too was on the spectrum.
Oh, my reflection.
Forgive me for not being a better father in those days,
I made my choices and that took me farther away,
But the short time we spend together fulfills my heart,
Even though we so spend so much time apart,
And that what gets me inside,
And that what gets me inside.
Oh, my tears.
I’m sorry I pulled away as the years flew by,
But there we many nights when I’d cry,
Thinking I should’ve been better, written you more letters,
Calling you or texting you saying “Son I’ll love you forever.”
But then I hear you say the same words,
But this time you’re using your own words.
Oh your smile.
Written by wallyroo92
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NewBeginnings
Forum Posts: 102
Tyrant of Words
18
Joined 6th June 2017 Forum Posts: 102
The Ghost of You
I'm in love with a ghost
But it's never there when I need it most
Shadows left in my memory
Forgetting how things used to be
It haunts my dreams from time to time
With shivers running up my spine
When I awaken with a gasp
Tear-soaked pillow in my grasp
A shadow figure to my right
I turn to look but its out of sight
Unsure if you were ever real
The piece that fits this void I feel
But it's never there when I need it most
Shadows left in my memory
Forgetting how things used to be
It haunts my dreams from time to time
With shivers running up my spine
When I awaken with a gasp
Tear-soaked pillow in my grasp
A shadow figure to my right
I turn to look but its out of sight
Unsure if you were ever real
The piece that fits this void I feel
Written by ComfortablyKatie
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NewBeginnings
Forum Posts: 102
Tyrant of Words
18
Joined 6th June 2017 Forum Posts: 102
r e f l e c t i o n s in w a t e r
if trees could see their
reflections across a still pond
sky blue light drifting through
empty branches
colorful leaves strewn
across the shoreline
drowning on the edge
trunks and twisting branches
reaching to the shore
longing for the foliage that
no longer belongs to them
weeping for what once was
i imagine
reflections across a still pond
sky blue light drifting through
empty branches
colorful leaves strewn
across the shoreline
drowning on the edge
trunks and twisting branches
reaching to the shore
longing for the foliage that
no longer belongs to them
weeping for what once was
i imagine
Written by jemac
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NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
WRITER LYRICIST ARTIST
Forum Posts: 195
WRITER LYRICIST ARTIST
Fire of Insight
5
Joined 9th Jan 2020Forum Posts: 195
RECURRING THOUGHTS
From moments of true reflection comes rediscovery of thyself unwrapping the mask that hides ones face, behind preying eyes looking to get inside your mind and heart seeking to find your weakness and to bury your strenght beneath a pale of lies, but you know for thyself you are not who they think you to be due to your scars that run deeper than deep for what didnt kill you only made you that much stronger. From moments of dispair to feelings of just a deep feeling of emptiness that grabs you taking over your thoughts searching through the darkness of your visions, your images of times not yet forgotten but remembered as lessons learn through trails and tribulations of love that came as an metamorphosis filled with poison like a snakes vemon. But yet it is that reason you have disengage your emotions as they slowly fade to black for you have no assumptions, as you saw through your own eyes behind the mask they worn as a disguise, as they masquerade the betrayal that burns deep within there eyes with an heart as COLD AS ICE.
Written by Stoney223
(WOLF BAY33)
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NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
WRITER LYRICIST ARTIST
Forum Posts: 195
WRITER LYRICIST ARTIST
Fire of Insight
5
Joined 9th Jan 2020Forum Posts: 195
The Woodpecker's Way
*knock, knock, knock, knock*...*knock, knock, knock*
Somewhere in Cambridge, deep within the forest...
a downy woodpecker is hammering at the base of an old cypress tree,
chiseling away at the wood, carefully carving out its nesting cavity.
Bit by bit, the old, petrified bark cracks and splinters away from its core,
Revealing the soft, light-colored cambium beneath.
As the crowning cambium peeks out from the darkened wood of the decaying bark,
Contrasting shades of color coalesce, painted against a cerulean sky
Where woodpecker’s bill and cypress tree, under crimson clouds collide
*knock, knock, knock, knock*… *knock, knock, knock*
(a knocking upon mother nature's door)
Aha! A squirming surprise, wriggling wildly about!
A creeping caterpillar – a delicious snack for a hungry bird.
“Bon appétit, Monsieur Chenille!” (Good meal, Mr. Worm!)
The bird chirps cheerfully, before voraciously gulping it down:
A quick collation to quell the hunger of a long day’s work;
A ruthless killing, but not a crime, rather an act of nature,
And reminder to the carefree caterpillar of its rightful place in the chain of life,
Amongst the flowering clover and the bumblebees…
Below the towering cover of Tupelo trees.
For this busy bird has no time for charity, 'cause soon—
There will be many mouths to feed!
*knock, knock, knock, knock*… *knock, knock, knock*
Somewhere in Cambridge, deep within the forest...
a downy woodpecker is hammering at the base of an old cypress tree,
chiseling away at the wood, carefully carving out its nesting cavity.
Bit by bit, the old, petrified bark cracks and splinters away from its core,
Revealing the soft, light-colored cambium beneath.
As the crowning cambium peeks out from the darkened wood of the decaying bark,
Contrasting shades of color coalesce, painted against a cerulean sky
Where woodpecker’s bill and cypress tree, under crimson clouds collide
*knock, knock, knock, knock*… *knock, knock, knock*
(a knocking upon mother nature's door)
Aha! A squirming surprise, wriggling wildly about!
A creeping caterpillar – a delicious snack for a hungry bird.
“Bon appétit, Monsieur Chenille!” (Good meal, Mr. Worm!)
The bird chirps cheerfully, before voraciously gulping it down:
A quick collation to quell the hunger of a long day’s work;
A ruthless killing, but not a crime, rather an act of nature,
And reminder to the carefree caterpillar of its rightful place in the chain of life,
Amongst the flowering clover and the bumblebees…
Below the towering cover of Tupelo trees.
For this busy bird has no time for charity, 'cause soon—
There will be many mouths to feed!
*knock, knock, knock, knock*… *knock, knock, knock*
Written by NewBeginnings
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