Art and Poetry

THE SUN AND THE MOON

Who broke you and left you in such a way, that the sun never rises and the moon always stays? Who stole your smile and left you so sad? Who took your voice and muted it all, that the only thing left has become half-muttered sounds? But I can still see you and see through your shell. Even the pieces you hide from yourself. I see you smiling and running a muck. I see you open and fearless as f**k. You are not what they said or who they made you out to be. You are beautiful and stronger then some may see. But I can still SEE you and I know your strength. I’ve seen your highs and all of your lows. I’ve watched you push through and face it head on while others have cowered and run from themselves. You see the moon and it’s beauty and grace but I see the sun and it’s billowing strength. I see yo...

NEO-DYSTOPIAN REVOLUTION: A WITNESS OF BEAUTY

Neo-dystopian philosophy comes from the idea that there is beauty in everything, even in the aftermath or in the midst of disaster. Color is an eternal gift from the Creator, as is beauty. Neo-dystopian revolution for me embodies discovering truth out of destruction, through the search for the presence of color and beauty in the collapse. A dystopian environment is one that is characterized by tyranny and oppression. Dystopia in Greek literally means “bad place.” We could be swimming in a dystopian mindset, or we could be survivors of dehumanization and desolation. Neo means “new” or “a revived form of.” Whatever form of dystopia we find ourselves in, there is still grace and life to be discovered. There is healing through being a witness of beauty.            ...

LISTEN UP, I’M NOT THE GIRL I USED TO BE.

My mama always said I was a poet That didn’t know it But saying these words out loud fills me with dread And I’ve been bottled up For too long Gotta sing my song All these emotions have been piling up So, listen up: Don’t blame me for what you’re too afraid to do Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m not like you The best things in life are on the other side of terror Jump, don’t jump; the decision is a horror Lately, I’ve been living Like there’s no tomorrow Baby, it’s so refreshing Leaving behind all the sorrow I used to be so afraid Of the things they’d think Downgrade, waylaid – but damn it, I’m remade I’ll run to the edge, get so close to the brink Because living without fear Is so much better than with regret I’m not that sweet little girl anymore, my dear I’m strong, aiming high; ready, aim, set...

UNPREDICTABLE SHE

No one can cage me up  In their own dreams  For I have my own,  No one can cage me up   In their own fantasies  For I have my own,  No one can beat me up  In any fight   For I am furiously strong,  No one can match me   In this world  For I am uniquely bold,  That’s what makes me love myself   More and more      Author: Shivani Email: shivani11nair2000@gmail.com  

THE POST-ANGST YEARS

If I cannot be a martyr, Let me have my stake in the earth, a place to stand and burn a little, an inescapable, heroic death that doesn’t make suffering seem cool, but also validates mine just a little.  If I cannot be a martyr,  Give me strong arms and definition. an entry next to desire in the OED, an attitude that shines, halo-like, on my perfect, glossy hair. Please add good hair to the list of demands.  If I cannot be a martyr,  Teach me how to speak in tongues. A nuanced battle of non-words that has neither winner or loser only my mouth and a language of creation. Make it sensual and unapologetic.  If I cannot be a martyr,  Show me the world – a home to fireflies and the thing that inspires the glory of sacrifice. Show it to me in color and good-smelling bakeries. Show it to me...

TO MY SWEETS

I see you, my sweets.  Sweet   Like muffins, and berries, and cherries.   Like the cherry blossoms   That blanket the Georgetown sidewalks.   People stopping to stare  Taking pictures of the pink lush  Walking over the petals   As if they’re not there.   But I always step over,   And pull you up  Onto my shoulders.   Because something so beautiful  Does not belong on the bottom of a shoe.  I see you, my sweets.     I hear you, my sweets.   Your unforgettable laughter   That spills out into the world.  Like the cicadas singing spells  Into the night’s stars.   I hear your hum;   And I’ll hum it too.   If your voice gets tired,   I’ll give you mine.     I feel you, my sweets.   Your soft skin gently on mine  As you rest your cheek on my chin.   Your light curls budding   Into my nostrils.   ...

DAWN WITHIN THE NIGHT

The moon and sun are distant lovers, to meet only distantly, opposite from one another. Though neither can be beside one another, one can not be without the other. The sun is the light of the moon, the moon is the other half of the sun; together they are a balancing act of creation. The moon with no sun is only a dark, cold, desolate land. And the sun with no moon to shine light upon is only a fiery ball of unpredictability, always spreading non-stop heat; he only would be a violent ball of destructive heat without his moon to shine on. But there are those rare occasions, when moon and sun come into alignment, and when that happens a night sweeps the landscape, as if there is a dawn within the night.  Let our bodies be an example of this. Our body is the moon, our lover is the sun, and whe...

ZEAL & DEEP THROAT

ZEAL    I am Linda Lovelace.  Lovelace is me.  Just without the camera’s in my face  and without the historic movie.  There is a movie.  I’ve done two.    She was just a young woman  at a time of her life.  Meets an older man  while she’s evaluating herself  after childbirth.  Insecurities all over the place  and this guy  Who appears so nice, honest….  your family likes him.  The difference, I kept my child.    Obey your husband.  I was never told that  But I saw repeatedly what happens   When you didn’t.  I did so to keep peace.  I did so in order to find my happiness.  I did so for my son to not see  how horrid of a Step Father he had.  To learn that he knew.    DEEP THROAT.  She was happy to please.  And so was I.  Her future husband is who taught her.  Her future husband is why she di...

FOR ARETHA

Aretha Queen of soul With royal respect we say a little prayer for you While we Rocksteady Like a chain of fools Trying to be Do Right Women and Men Cause we never loved Someone the way we love you Especially if we were young, Gifted And black And Daydreaming about A bridge over troubled waters Or a freeway of love Filled with amazing grace and sweet, sweet baby since you’ve been gone You made us Think Think Think about the weight Of a world Without the most Natural woman Lady soul Sparkling Like a spirit in the dark Lighting An almighty fire Through the storm Singing the music of the soul Like oh me, oh my We’re loving you baby And there ain’t no way     Author: Michelle Seabreeze Email: michelleseabreeze@icloud.com Author Bio: A Philadelphia, PA native, Michelle Seabreeze is a ...

ASPEN

I’ve traveled thousands of miles to get to you  I’ve seen those snowcapped mountains in search of something true  And I did walk those dirt paths high in the sky hand in hand with you  Even though I was scared I wanted to see it through  You told me to lean on you, I did, and I fell in  I risked those doubts and faced those fears but you had a different spin  Elevated on steep creations I gripped your back  You smiled, laughed and showed me where to step  You repeatedly said “Don’t worry, I’ve got you” and held out your hands  And we connected, I felt safe, and I let go of all the control I had  I followed my heart to the hills but you knew it wouldn’t last  I wish you told me before but sometimes there shouldn’t be a second chance with your past  They all told me to feel it, feel all of i...

BUTTERFLIES

I found my sister laying in the grass. Tucked into the fetal position. She stood out, starkly translucent against a dark green spread. She looked so small. Like a pale yellow butterfly fallen from the sky, crumpled up like a napkin. too tired to fly. Sharp inhale. For a true half of a second, I thought she was dead. My little sister has two eating disorders. She has two diseases ripping her apart from the inside. Two diseases that make her body want to cease to exist. Her very being is squished by this need to be smaller, less, thin, invisible. I remember the first time I heard her throwing up in our shared bathroom. I ran to tell my mom and I can remember the look in her eyes. confusion and recognition at the same time. You know but you don’t want to. You hope and you pray and you tell yo...

COSMIC LOVE

    The painting shows a contrast of light and dark colors.   The broken planet resembles how something can be beautiful even after being broken. The shattering stones resembles as the broken pieces of someone who can still bloom without it.                 Author: Marzia Ali Email: marzia.sayyad@gmail.com Author Bio: I’m Marzia Ali, Born on 20th August 1998, I am 19 years old  Artist,Designer and entrepreneur currently pursuing my education in India.  The painting has always been one of my favorite hobbies and I find great delight in doing so. I find painting easier for me than expressing my thoughts verbally. My obsession with the clouds, stars, sunsets and the depth they portray make me feel like I carry the entire universe in...

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