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Regain control, as a captain taming the sea,
Steering through storms towards serenity.
This tempest, fierce and wild, shall let loose its hold,
Releasing you from chains, stories untold.
And winds subside, and skies unfold,
Know that within your spirit, courage takes hold.
Syafie R Jan 15
A shadow lingers, heavy and cold,
Never a story of joy retold.
Tablets lined in a fragile row,
In their silence, what do they know?
Dreams dissolve in a bitter hue,
Emotions dulled, both false and true.
Promises whispered: "You’ll feel whole,"
Relief bottled, sold to the soul.
Every smile feels borrowed, thin,
Shaky hands hide storms within.
Still, we swallow, day by day,
A search for light in skies of gray.
No cure, just balance, a fragile dance,
To numb the ache, one last chance.
Calcinatio Jan 14
As I am affronted
the response is
to the simple.
It burrows in corners
and hides in creases,
residing in the cutest of dimples.
Body derelict like a crumbling temple.

This thing is evil-
or I am for sure.
One thing is true
drop the others to the floor.
A black and white,
grey on holiday.
A swinging shape I'm
sure will manifest
into a sword one day.

And it's coming for me.
There's no other device.
No time for this guy to be
approachable, no time for
this guy to be nice.
I'm fighting for my life,
but I can reason with the knife.
It doesn't have to make sense,
I've just had it up to the temple tonight.

And I ask it how it came here,
what it wants to protect.
I thank it for its service but
I can't seem to connect.
This situation doesn't look
like a lion on my tail.
I stomp my feet and flail my
arms inside this inflated hell.

I name it and it laughs at me,
it's name is not a word.
It's known by screams
and pleas for mercy
like nothing you've ever heard.
Its job is to overwhelm
me with life and concepts long interred.
A fear that's hidden deep behind
an obvious thing like hate.
I approach ad infinitum,
to make this devil meditate.

A hundred and eight prayer beads.
A mantra to stand and fight.
A weapon of intent,
of magical will;
A word of power and light.
Just get me through this night-

Our feelings aren't based in logic.
We use tools on a budget.
Report the numbers and don't fudge it.
Be honest with the others,
Be honest with the self.
Calcinatio Jan 14
Burn the dross with
steady heat.
Constant regulation
under furnace's feet.
Not too hot,
not too cold.
Steadily discover
the Goldilocks zone.

There's a blackening,
then the white-
before red comes
into play.
And there we find
the malleability
we seek for
every day.
If you look into the trends for what colors arise first in languages you'll see that it's believed that it goes: black then white, or black and white and then red.
This could be seen as the progression from black and white thinking into a breach of gradient, or color. Or from the black and white state of ignorance to the more hued life of the learned..
At the same time there's the symbology of the cyclical purification of the alchemical process and it's color associations of black white and red.
When you heat a piece of metal over a fire the first color is black because of the burning carbon, and then white from the ash, and then red as the molecules are at a very rapid state. This is when the material can be pounded or bent or finely worked to a desired form.
I find this metaphor deeply impactful and palpable and I often return to it in my work.
He brought the sun into the sky each day
She brought booming thunder and rain
He shimmered like gold and smelled of wine
She coward in the corner, shrouded in pain
He prayed his light would be enough
to wash her face of the grimace of disdain
Her hero in armor
Upon her, golden wings does he ordain

The clouds fall away
His glow burning like a fire
Her resistance fading, fear dissipating
His voice carries her higher

When the sun and the storm intertwine
it's as if you're seeing the face of the divine
DJQuill Jan 13
Sometimes my mind feels like an ocean
A tremendous motion,
That can sink nations

My thoughts on the other hand
Speak like a small pond
A peaceful collected body
A city of harmony and greenery

Sometimes my actions are unpredictable
Movements to achieve a checkmate,
Yet let me lose the game as well

My legs are earthquakes
A stick that can‘t bear the weight of the ceiling

Meanwhile my hands are waves
Creating words that speak more than books

I‘m chaos and order
A song that makes you cry with joy and frustrate you at the same time
Is this ok for you?
Cyril Dec 2024
They say to maintain emotional balance, we need three positives for every negative.

Anatomy taught me that two-thirds of the heart's mass sits on the left side of your chest.
Since then, I began to imagine that negative emotions gather on that side.
And when the positive falls short, and the scale tips too far, the weight becomes physical.
I named this feeling 'lopsided sad' — when the heaviness tugs at my ribs, pulling one side of me toward the ground, as if half of my body is anchored to the earth.

Why do I keep collecting more baggage than I can carry, clutching it all in one hand?

I've been counting my blessings since that day, in an attempt to restore balance.
With desperation, I listed everything that is good,
every little thing that counts;
word by word, letter by letter,
I collect each one like pennies,
wishing that every line and curve that forms them
would suffice to outweigh the bad.

Three for one.
The equation has been flawed from the start,
three sparks just to dull the dark.
Maybe this is how we're meant to walk the earth—
always leaning on one side, never upright
Asher Dec 2024
Sometimes all I need
a soul to mirror my own.  
Am I too much, though?
Kara Shirlene Dec 2024
There is no Yang
Without the Yin.
So tonight as the Moon
Moves to be reborn again
I, too, shall move within.

There is no Yin
Without the Yang.
So tonight once I shed my skin,
I, too, shall be reborn
With the rising Sun.

It is all balance. It is all Love.

©KSS 7/2018
duck Dec 2024
it
a stone cold heart, in a midst of
confusion, terror, and silence.
and blood it can cough
yet it remains a sight of nonchalance
everything's unkempt and rough
out of order and balance
far away, a cry and a laugh
a battle of chaos at a glance
a hide that is tough
yet the insides tense
nobody can plough
through the violence
to save it.
this poem is a bit messy ;-; atp I dunno what I was writing abt
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