poetry

YOU’RE NOT HERE TO PAY BILLS AND DIE

You’re not lazy, indecisive or have a bad work ethic. You’re not irresponsible or lost. Maybe a little confused, yes. But the reason why no job satisfies you, The reason why, with every new offer and every idea, Your excitement quickly fades, And as the days go on it seems harder and harder to wake yourself up, your actions become forced, there’s a feeling that stirs deep within you. You might not be able to pinpoint or explain it but it’s this feeling that something just isn’t right. This feeling of “this is it?” This feeling of there MUST be more. And depending on how in tune you are with your emotions, your body, your intuition or if you stuff them down and numb yourself like I use to with food and prescriptions, this feeling could be oh-so-subtle that you might not have even noticed it...

I AM WOMAN: POETRY SERIES

A Woman You asked me what does it mean to be a woman? I thought for awhile, in deep contemplation. I sat with my heart I drained my soul with my tears, I feel, even with emptiness. I walked through the fire and felt the pain ripple through my sensations of sensitivity, I’m alive, even though it hurts.   I stood barefoot, grounded into the earth, I felt the power of stability the unrelenting strength of deep roots, I’m centered even though the wind calls me. I smelt the most beautiful rose I was mesmerized by the essence of delicate aroma of sensuality, I realized that beauty came in many forms.   There’s a naturalness to femininity. To be a woman is to be, life   To be a woman, is all.   -Liem   Earth Women All women are like earth They may crack at times but they’...

CURSIVE

Unfolding an old note from my mother inked on a scrap, hurriedly yet purposeful I trace over every line like canals in the paper The curves of my letters are starting to look like hers just like the curves of my hips Genetics, maybe or the inheritance of the weight of the words that weren’t ours to bear       Author: Samantha Martin Email: goodkarmacleveland@gmail.com Author Bio: Samantha is a connector of words and thoughts and people, an instructor of yoga, student of the universe, tarot reader, affirmation architect, chronic wanderer, cancer survivor, dog mom, fanny pack enthusiast, deep belly laugher and tree appreciator. You can find her work, her observations and her musings at goodkarmacleveland.com or on Instagram @goodkarmacleveland. Link to social media or website:...

STOP DEFINING YOUR WORTH

Stop defining your worth   by the amount of money you make,   by the presence or absence of someone in your life,   by the unmet or met compliances that your society, culture or education so blindly wraps you into,   by the boxes you tick on your to-do lists,   by the things you think you miss or have been unfairly deprived of,   by the people who accept you or don’t,   by the expectations of your mental laboratory about your future and present,   by the imperfections you find in your body and thoughts each day,   by the amount and quality of your sex or love life,   by the words of approval from other people,   by the traumas inherited from confused parents,   by the struggles you face each day,   by the emotional reci...

THIS ISN’T HEALTHY

This. Isn’t. Healthy. And I know it. The way you allow me to drown in you. Fill my lungs up with your very essence only to bring me to the brink of death just so you can give me mouth-to-mouth and breathe life into me again. Your absence is suffocating. Your silence is the pressure suppressing my larynx, yet when you speak it’s the only melody I want to hear, and I find my voice again. This. Isn’t. Healthy. You are similar to the sun rays on summer days and despite the errands I have to run, all I want to do is lay in the grass and allow you to cover me despite my allergies. You are a clear night’s sky and our love is all the stars I wish upon at least until pollution proves otherwise and what I thought I saw was just a smoke screen. When someone shows you who they are, believe them....

STAGE 4

Her selflessness was her destruction She neglected and offered all of herself She smiled so big She spoke soothing words She needlessly apologized All in her final hours ———- A decade of growth An (unknown) six-month countdown June 24th, 2012 Eyes glazed, mouth gaping Still in her leopard sheets I gazed at her lifeless face Eyes dry, lips pursed She’s almost a stranger But I looked down and noticed my hands look just like hers But with life and warmth I consciously tried to memorize every moment, and all those before There is a light that never goes out Knowing that I would never feel the comfort of a mother’s love again         Author: Jessica Hanak Email: jessicamatela89@gmail.com Author Bio: I am a thirty-year-old Austinite with an occasional ...

NATURALLY

Like the weather And the tides I am always changing   I will never apologize for my seasons   I am the sweetness of spring Rebirth, renewal Growing from warmth and light Alive with possibilities   I am the fire of summer Heat waves, red burns Fueled by the ruling sun Unrelentingly strong   I am the calm of autumn Comforting, quiet Softly present with peaceful beauty Silently passing by   I am the ice of winter Frozen, deep Filled with darkness Mercilessly cold   Like the planet Mother Nature I am always changing   I will never apologize for my seasons       Author: Amber Core Email: ambercore97@gmail.com Author Bio: Amber Core is a Junior at The Ohio State University. She is majoring in Human Nutrition, Dietetics, and she plans to work as a...

THREADBARE

The colours we’ve worn are fading. They’ve been bleached by the sun, left on the clothesline too long. Materials amassed by the hands of hope washed ashore like faceless pebbles looking for a land to smooth away the rougher edges, a place to settle in the earth.   Those colours, threads connecting people woven into a textile of language, culture and heritage. Colours refracted, like a prism, caught between barstools, classrooms, offices and kitchen tables creating a rainbow, the kind we’ve always wished upon. A fanned out tapestry stitched together by our ancestors, who toiled with their mismatched yarn to create this life.   With scissor tongues sharpened by fear the very fabric of what has held us together is being cut apart, left in shreds like a tattered flag helpless against...

DARKEST DAYS

Days are just like people. as they can’t all be perfect but they always try.   And just like us they often fail. They push and pull and strive for more.   Blindly acknowledging the many closed doors.   But when we step back we begin to see that there’s so much more then what appears to be.   The world we live in is colorful and bright. but you can’t embrace the golden ray of sunshine, or the beautiful blue hue of the sky, if you’re unwilling to find light on the darkest of days.   There is a silver lining another day will come. Just step back for a moment and sit with what’s been done.   Tomorrow is a new day. Another chance to start anew. So many different colors waiting just for you.       Author: Melissa Fino Email: melissa@loveyourlifecommun...

SMALL TOWN STARS

where are you from they ask   not here i say   so far? they inquire   sometimes i think   because cornfields feel millions of miles away from concrete and there are no stars in the city   i left and looked in my rearview once maybe twice at the place that raised me   and taught me that you should be quiet and marry a boy on the football team and settle down and be happy   and i didn’t listen that much and i chased my own stars   and ran from those fenced fields and minds made up toward something i couldn’t see and i’m happy here without the boy or the quiet or the settling   but i will tell you sometimes i look up and i do miss the stars     Author: Olivia Adkins Email: oliviamuguetteadkins@gmail.com Author Bio: 22-year-old creator, wr...

YOU: A POETRY COLLECTION

They were as smooth as the beaming rays that poked through the clouds of that November sun. As familiar as my favorite track playing on a loop in my backyard on summer nights. As inviting as your smile when you wanted me to sing along to that song you used to adore so much that it became ours. Even if I hated it with every ounce in my heart, I put up with it just for you. – lips.   My auburn lips stained your cheek as the leaves fell the afternoon of our second date. You held me close on winter nights as we watched stand-up. You stopped picking flowers from your backyard as spring passed us by just to leave me like a hot mess under the summer sunlight. -seasons.   You didn’t like the mole on your chin. You used to say it was too prominent for your face and how you disliked ...

RAISE YOUR VOICE

In a world that seems darker It’s time to push violence aside It’s time to stand up Because we can no longer hide   It’s time to let light through To help one another succeed For friendship and kindness Is what we all need   So stop the yelling Put down your fists When you see someone struggling Make it your job to assist   Don’t ignore the weak Help them become strong Choose to do what’s right Even when others are doing what’s wrong   And where you see injustice Raise your voice and be heard For nothing is sadder Than hope deterred     Author: B.W. Ginsburg Email: escbw42@gmail.com Author Bio: B.W. Ginsburg has enjoyed reading and writing for as long as she can remember. Ginsburg published her first book, Rest in Piece, in ...

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