Poetry
/poetry2210
A place to share and discuss poetry
Within me, universe
Around me, universe
Thoughts flow, transverse
Emotions show, transverse
Feelings surface, converse
Actions are suppressed
reversed, universe, transverse, converse, my canvas.
©Kenanie
Around me, universe
Thoughts flow, transverse
Emotions show, transverse
Feelings surface, converse
Actions are suppressed
reversed, universe, transverse, converse, my canvas.
©Kenanie
"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability to see yourself through my eyes, only then will you realize how special you are to me."
- Frida Kahlo
- Frida Kahlo
Just flow...
The first summer was pure bliss. We were building the persona on the island. it was hot We experienced being with each other and there was no need to talk about it. I was so barefoot in the sand that it felt like my feet were breathing. I didn't think about what could happen to our relationship. I lived in the soft shadow of the sun, desire and happiness. Since then, no summer has been like this.
Liv Ullman about Ingmar Bergman
Liv Ullman about Ingmar Bergman
Rumi:
The lover's heart knows no bounds,
In love's garden, every thorn is a rose.
Beyond reason, beyond intellect,
In love's ocean, every drop is a pearl.
Through the gates of love, paradise opens,
In the fire of love, all sorrows are consumed.
The lover's soul dances in ecstasy,
In the light of love, all shadows disappear.
Love is the voice of eternity,
In its embrace, time loses its sway.
A journey without end, love is divine,
In its splendor, we find our true way.
The lover's heart knows no bounds,
In love's garden, every thorn is a rose.
Beyond reason, beyond intellect,
In love's ocean, every drop is a pearl.
Through the gates of love, paradise opens,
In the fire of love, all sorrows are consumed.
The lover's soul dances in ecstasy,
In the light of love, all shadows disappear.
Love is the voice of eternity,
In its embrace, time loses its sway.
A journey without end, love is divine,
In its splendor, we find our true way.
What is the benefit to me if you are wise?
Be beautiful and be sad
Tears add beauty to the face
Like a river that overlooks the landscape
The storm refreshes the flowers...
Poet: Charles Baudelaire / France, 1821-1867
Be beautiful and be sad
Tears add beauty to the face
Like a river that overlooks the landscape
The storm refreshes the flowers...
Poet: Charles Baudelaire / France, 1821-1867
This is also poetry 🤞 ✨
“My dear Leo, you are everywhere; In the light that shines on the window, inside the room, the bed and the chair. Seeing you on the other side of the glass wall is painful as hell. I miss you so much as if I have no skin left on my body. To embrace you and drown in your femininity and tenderness. It's a bit like hell...
It's almost romantic."
From Bergman letters to Ulman
It's almost romantic."
From Bergman letters to Ulman
The moonlight spills on silver streams,
A sky alight with quiet dreams.
The stars hum softly, skies unwind,
As peace wraps 'round your restless mind.
The breeze is warm, the night is deep,
Now close your eyes, drift off to sleep.
Let worries fade and dreams take flight,
Rest easy, love, good night, good night.
A sky alight with quiet dreams.
The stars hum softly, skies unwind,
As peace wraps 'round your restless mind.
The breeze is warm, the night is deep,
Now close your eyes, drift off to sleep.
Let worries fade and dreams take flight,
Rest easy, love, good night, good night.
A poem made from the top used words on farcaster:
The sky is pretty
Tonight, adorned by beauty
Sit down and look up.
©Kenanie
Tonight, adorned by beauty
Sit down and look up.
©Kenanie
A scar. A poem by Tokenized Human.
I left
The door open
For her
And she left
Her lipstick
Mark
A scar
I've carried around
Too long
This is part of a series of short poems I've been writing exclusively on warpcast with the intention of not saving them anywhere so they exist ephemerally until my storage is depleted. I'm almost certain some of the earlier ones have disappeared forever now.
As a reader, or collector, you may keep a copy if you wish.
I left
The door open
For her
And she left
Her lipstick
Mark
A scar
I've carried around
Too long
This is part of a series of short poems I've been writing exclusively on warpcast with the intention of not saving them anywhere so they exist ephemerally until my storage is depleted. I'm almost certain some of the earlier ones have disappeared forever now.
As a reader, or collector, you may keep a copy if you wish.
Don't forget to share (and collect) onchain poetry today, my friends!
Like this one, by OddWritings, very fitting for the (Northern Hemisphere) season....
https://highlight.xyz/mint/shape:0x15F97EA79AddB64519d89C928841452e7d9E7f12:2?referrer=0xB31Faa5c1D581C70F4b6ed095c944936cBd2a357
Like this one, by OddWritings, very fitting for the (Northern Hemisphere) season....
https://highlight.xyz/mint/shape:0x15F97EA79AddB64519d89C928841452e7d9E7f12:2?referrer=0xB31Faa5c1D581C70F4b6ed095c944936cBd2a357
Robert Frost:
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Peace, like a river, softly flows,
In quiet hearts, its presence grows.
A gentle breeze, it calms the soul,
Making the broken spirit whole. 🍃 ✨ 💫
In quiet hearts, its presence grows.
A gentle breeze, it calms the soul,
Making the broken spirit whole. 🍃 ✨ 💫
I still know
which is the result of fear and madness
life
I know this too
which is the result of fear and forgetfulness
the future
But I don't understand
What future is this?
And what happens?
result of fear
in fear
And what is the other comfort?
We in childhood
We learned to count
for what
Poet: Erich Fried / Austria, 1921-1988
which is the result of fear and madness
life
I know this too
which is the result of fear and forgetfulness
the future
But I don't understand
What future is this?
And what happens?
result of fear
in fear
And what is the other comfort?
We in childhood
We learned to count
for what
Poet: Erich Fried / Austria, 1921-1988
The Tortured Poets Department. An anthology of new works that reflect events, opinions and sentiments from a fleeting and fatalistic moment in time - one that was both sensational and sorrowful in equal measure.
In the Silence of Celina's Shadow
In the silence of Celina's shadow, grief took flight,
A lover's heart, now a chasm deep and hollow.
Eyes once bright, lost to eternal night,
In the silence of Celina's shadow.
Words unspoken, a future never to follow,
Each memory a specter, in the waning light.
In the silence of Celina's shadow, grief took flight,
A lover's heart, now a chasm deep and hollow.
GFK
In the silence of Celina's shadow, grief took flight,
A lover's heart, now a chasm deep and hollow.
Eyes once bright, lost to eternal night,
In the silence of Celina's shadow.
Words unspoken, a future never to follow,
Each memory a specter, in the waning light.
In the silence of Celina's shadow, grief took flight,
A lover's heart, now a chasm deep and hollow.
GFK
He Fell.
From Heaven's high to shadows deep,
Lucifer fell, where light doth weep.
His wings, once bright, in darkness steep,
From Heaven's high to shadows deep.
Now bound in silence, he cannot leap,
No more to soar, no more to sweep.
From Heaven's high to shadows deep,
Lucifer fell, where light doth weep.
G.F.K
From Heaven's high to shadows deep,
Lucifer fell, where light doth weep.
His wings, once bright, in darkness steep,
From Heaven's high to shadows deep.
Now bound in silence, he cannot leap,
No more to soar, no more to sweep.
From Heaven's high to shadows deep,
Lucifer fell, where light doth weep.
G.F.K
Life sits on an old chair
In a spacious house guarded by death.
Death sits on a new chair
In a narrow house, even for a single step
that life takes it, it does not fit.
But, where is the problem?
Poet: #Adonis [Syria, 1930]
In a spacious house guarded by death.
Death sits on a new chair
In a narrow house, even for a single step
that life takes it, it does not fit.
But, where is the problem?
Poet: #Adonis [Syria, 1930]
"Night Tea"
Tea cup,
warm in my hands,
steam rising soft and slow,
calming my mind in quiet waves,
moonlight hums through the window's pale glow,
a gentle sip, a soothing sigh,
in stillness, time suspends,
peace in each sip,
Tea cup.
Tea cup,
warm in my hands,
steam rising soft and slow,
calming my mind in quiet waves,
moonlight hums through the window's pale glow,
a gentle sip, a soothing sigh,
in stillness, time suspends,
peace in each sip,
Tea cup.
Apples
Red fruits
Tasty and juicy
Summer ends with yellow
Fall brings the green hue
An Apple a day, they say
Keeps the doctor away, health is wealth
©Kenanie
Red fruits
Tasty and juicy
Summer ends with yellow
Fall brings the green hue
An Apple a day, they say
Keeps the doctor away, health is wealth
©Kenanie
Margaret Atwood:
In the burned house I am eating breakfast.
You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,
yet here I am.
The spoon which was melted scrapes against
the bowl which was melted also.
No one else is around.
In the burned house I am drinking coffee
and in the burned house I am thinking about love.
The coffee is weak and the love is bitter.
I look out the window at trees
and do not see them.
I walk on the floor and my feet do not touch it.
You can come into the burned house,
you can have coffee and talk about love.
I do not want to sell you anything.
I only want to give you what is mine.
In the burned house I am eating breakfast.
You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,
yet here I am.
The spoon which was melted scrapes against
the bowl which was melted also.
No one else is around.
In the burned house I am drinking coffee
and in the burned house I am thinking about love.
The coffee is weak and the love is bitter.
I look out the window at trees
and do not see them.
I walk on the floor and my feet do not touch it.
You can come into the burned house,
you can have coffee and talk about love.
I do not want to sell you anything.
I only want to give you what is mine.
Her soul yearns for love.
As her heart breaks,
She radiance like the sun.
Trying to hide what she starts to feel.
Even on the darkest days.
She still hangs onto hope...
Hoping things will change.
As the bruises on her body say a different story.
As her heart breaks,
She radiance like the sun.
Trying to hide what she starts to feel.
Even on the darkest days.
She still hangs onto hope...
Hoping things will change.
As the bruises on her body say a different story.
Some simple glances are suspicious, strange, they endanger one's safety, the airlessness penetrates into the hiding place of your coldness so suicidally that there is no other choice but to surrender
From the text of the book:
"It was night"
Farzan zare
From the text of the book:
"It was night"
Farzan zare