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Poetry is observation:
It’s opening up the senses, It’s focusing, noticing and remembering, It’s understanding twice, the second time better. Poetry is meditation: It’s connecting to people and life, It’s bringing beauty to every instant, It’s existing twice, the second time deeper. Poetry is a mirror, It’s magnifying glass, It’s a door to the invisible, the untouchable, the inaudible. Poetry is giving importance: It’s celebrating beauty and ugliness, Smallness and greatness, It’s learning and teaching, feeling and showing. Poetry is catharsis: It’s healing, It’s sublimation, It’s unmasking and revealing. Poetry is a map to navigate life, It’s making meaning and connections, It’s the realization that we’re surrounded by magic, And it’s the inextinguishable will to share it. Chilled, dripping, salty, I lie face down on the sand, then I close my eyes while my back’s getting tanned. As my shoulders sear, billions of grains massage and caress me relieving my pains. Ivory soldiers, fine as a hair, moving in silence, relocating with care to fill up the valleys and make room for the hills, providing support and the hottest of chills. There is no resisting their powerful heat as it melts all my borders in the sweetest defeat. It thaws away all my tension my doubts and my skin: this is a battle I don’t want to win! As it conquers my flesh my bones and my soul I give in to the feeling and relinquish control. I relax and release overtaken by mirth, at this moment in time I’m one with the Earth. Nowhere to be... Nothing to do... Except a dip in the ocean and tan my front too! :) a playful, light hearted poem about a joyful touch-led experience :) Carved by the waves,
cracked by the storms, faded by the sun, hollowed by the worms- Through the water, from a foreign ground, drifting away, never lost, but unfound- Survived the wounds, Learned from the pain, Withstood the hardship, The wind and the rain- A new shape, A new life, Emerges now from the sand: As I hold your finger you’re reborn in my hand. Dedicated to my mother, who loved the ocean and collected driftwood, and who was, like those pieces of woods, more beautiful for the storms she withstood and the oceans she crossed ❤️ I dive
in this sliver of sky It leads me astray as I stay lost everyday. Ideas call From this gap In the wall. I see Me As my sight Drowns In the light. |
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