Activity
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roses responded to a letter in topic Poetry 1 years ago
Your language in this poetry has its own personality and the colors were vibrant!
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Shavonne Holton shared a letter in the
Poetry group 1 years agoBlack and white
Shavonne HLeave everything at black and white
Don’t add any color to brighten up the scenery
Call it for how you see, never recreate
Leave everything at black and white
Read it for how it is
The image should be loud and clear
Never be afraid to cut off loose ends
Protect your peace and mind
Pure love will soon intertwine
We are often desperate to give out second chances
But when you leave everything at black and white
You will not be deceived
The colors a color blind man can still see
There is always beauty in art
When something turns dark be sure to turn it away
They say black and white goes with everything
Yet I disagree
The dark energy you bring doesn’t not mix with me
You try to confuse me with your little white lies
What’s black & white and read all over?
The answer should’ve been life
Once you endure the pain that this life may bring
You’ll leave everything as it seems
You won’t try to recreate, you’ll call it for what it is
You’ll let it be
I wish someone would’ve told this to the 9 year old me..
Leave everything at black and white -
Lorinda Boyer shared a letter in the
Parenting group 1 years, 1 months agoSweatshirt Stain
Lorinda Boyer“Mom. Mom. MOM!” Dawson yelled.
Why did he insist on calling me from upstairs? Was I the only one with legs in this house? I started up the staircase, muttering as I climbed. I reached the top and found Dawson sitting on his bed meticulously inspecting a sweatshirt in his hands.
“What do you want?” He looked up, clearly as annoyed as I was though not for the same reason.
“Mom, why didn’t you try harder to get this stain out of my sweatshirt?” I strained to see what he was pointing to. He shoved the sweatshirt inches from nose and still the spot was barely visible.
“Did you try all of the stain removing products?” He demanded more than questioned. I resisted glancing at the clock on the wall which would inevitably announce how late this ridiculous conversation was making us. The cats circled his unmade bed, meowing for their breakfast. He’d put on a t-shirt but was still wearing pajama bottoms and hadn’t brushed his hair by the looks of it. All those unfinished tasks yet to be ticked off the morning list caused a nervous twitch at the corner of my eye. I called upon my inner yoga-mom, took a deep breath, exhaled.
“You did not tell me it had a stain when you threw it in the wash, so I washed it. That set the stain making it nearly impossible to remove. When I finally noticed the stain, I treated it several times and re-washed it, still to no avail.”
His eyes widened; he dropped his sweatshirt on the bed. “So, you’re just going to give up?” His voice cracked.
I scanned his face certain he must be pulling a fast one on me. His tight expression revealed otherwise. But instead of conjuring feelings of motherly compassion, I lost my temper altogether.
“Dawson, half my life is likely over. I am not going to spend what precious moments I have remaining scrubbing a stain out of a six-dollar sweatshirt. You’re young. If you want to scrub that stain, have at it. Knock yourself out. But I’m done. Now get ready.”
The drive to school was mostly silent and I had a chance to calm down and see the incident for what it really was, a vehicle to channel emotions he was feeling but hadn’t the words to express. We were both having a hard time accepting this next step, but we’d agreed on it. This was the last day Dawson would attend high school. At least for the year, I was officially withdrawing him.
I pulled into my usual designated handicapped parking spot and unlocked the doors. Dawson cast an accusatory look at me because of course I was breaking the law. But for like three minutes, I reasoned. He snatched his pencil, an eraser, and a protein bar, from the stash in the glove compartment, grabbed the car door handle.
“Hey, babe,” I reached across the seat, laid my hand on his shoulder, “The stain will fade over time. All stains do.” He smiled back at me.
“Love you, too Mom.”
I drove to the district office as if to a graveside, with a heavy heart. I walked slowly up the steps and straight to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hi, I’m here to withdraw my son from school.”
She looked at me with a confused expression. “So, you want to take him out of school?”
I nodded.
“Do you want to homeschool him?” she asked.
“Oh god, no.” She raised her eyebrows, and I was immediately embarrassed by my response. I explained I wanted to fill out paperwork to withdraw him from school, take him out, nothing else. She picked up the phone to call someone upstairs with more authority. It only took a few moments for the woman from upstairs to make it downstairs. She listened to my story, nodded.
“Yes, I’ll get the paperwork for you.”
It was involuntary, the tear that rolled down my nose and landed right where I needed to sign my name.
The woman with more authority leaned into me, patted my shoulder. “He can always come back,” she assured.
I thanked her for her kindness. I wondered if she could feel my failure. I wondered if she knew this was my second son to drop out, that I couldn’t inspire even one of my children to finish school. I thanked both women and made my way back to the car.
Inside the silent vehicle, I leaned onto the steering wheel. Rested my head for a moment. I closed my eyes and just breathed. Dawson never did have a decent day in school, especially once his father left. Every day had been a constant struggle with his tears, anxiety, and the effects of his obsessive-compulsive disorder. For my part, I’d simply tried everything I could. I threatened, bargained, bribed, begged and finally yesterday, I agreed to let him drop out. It was going to happen in less than six months when he turned eighteen anyway. Why prolong the inevitable.
Was I giving up? Maybe. For sure I was being forced to give up on my dreams and expectations for what I believed his life should be. And I’d have to learn to live with the stain it would leave on my mom-heart. But I reminded myself that it would fade over time. All stains do.-
Aww Lorinda, sending you a big hug. Please remember that life is not a race and your son’s path may just be different. You never know what the future will hold and how things will unfold. Just keep giving him your love and I truly believe all will be fine. Sending hugs. <3 Lauren
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Thank you, Lauren! I appreciate you and this space so much.
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roses shared a letter in the
Poetry group 1 years, 1 months agoWriters Block
RosesThe Tortured Poets Department has a writer’s division that has to approve every poem before it goes out
And my mind is tired of being held hostage
A loose-leaf definition of writer’s block was once defined by the utter of: I don’t feel like writing, this isn’t good enough, my hand only works for the remote today
Then she interrupts my train of thought to ask: why have you never wrote a poem about me
It’s not that I haven’t
There are 100s getting as comfortable as you can be in the waste basket
The last poem I Kobe shot, Melo made, and Curry posed to the trash can started like this:
An eye lash is trying to make your cheek more than just a Sunday service sanctuary
It wants a home
I know you’d like me to remove it
But who am I to destroy a home
I can’t help but think how beautiful you look with that eye lash
As it rests there like a pair of doves flirting on a branch not far away from me
What are you starring at, she exclaims
Oh, nothing I reply, today I’ll let the eye lash remain
On
Your rosy cheeks, kissed by my dead rose petal lips
Reminding you of the time we went camping and you hated that you smelled the outside
You hated that you smelled like outside
And I kept teasing you but hiking, visualizing, and tenting next to nature is maybe the closest thing to
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your gorgeous
Ugh, I can never find the right words to describe a tenth of your gorgeous
And it makes me want to drop dead out of frustration
Because the writers need to feel exactly what I do when they read:
Holding her hand is to get a glimpse of forever before I die
Holding her makes my heart resemble the flight of a butterfly
Holding her hand is to hold my battles in the palm of my hand and make them cry
The writers consist of a delicious various assortment of personality; often referred to as me, myself, and I
Every time I get ready to seal this poem to you the writer’s block me from letting you receive it
p.s. I haven’t learned to love myself enough to love you…-
Aww Roses, sending you the biggest hug. There is a lot of softness in this. I hope you learn to love yourself because you have so much love to give. Thank you for sharing. <3 Lauren
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Roses, this is beyond amazing. I’m in love with your poetry. Wow. Whatever you do, don’t stop writing…
Lorinda-
Lorinda, thank you this means so much!!!
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Thank you, Lauren, it has been a journey but I am finally in a space where self-love is more common =]
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roses shared a letter in the
Poetry group 1 years, 1 months agoThe Last Breath of the Flame
RosesThe clock, the watch, the phone all have eyes that watch from the view of 2 AM untamed
Heart rates jumping like the heat of the flame
Me plus You is a movie, what is the name
Our love doesn’t fit in the frame
So, cameras get jealous of the panorama pane
Real love never goes without pain that can be immense
So, if you’re hurt let patience play offense
Slow dancing with your memories is a nostalgic essence
Sweat dancing with the burning scent
Wick burning with confidence
Mirroring our silhouette, naked thoughts present tense
My hands without your curves, a death sentence
Each kiss turns a page of my sixth sense
I don’t need a third eye to see your imperfect contents
Table this: beauty is born from cracks so use the hurt as accents
She is priceless so keep your two cents
Temptation is off limits but I climbed the fence
The candle falls asleep to our aroma, hence
The flame goes out, conclusion love making after an argument
Sweet dreams enter in the tango of sheets, legs, hearts, rest swiftly to the comfort of her name
My heart is tied to yours, no more games
I’ve played tug of war and came out lame
No more burns unless it’s from the candle tamed
p.s. this is what it feels like when peace kisses love… -
roses shared a letter in the
Poetry group 1 years, 1 months agoCherry Blossum Cheeks
RosesHave you ever let your mind sit under a cherry blossom tree
The poetic renewal massages the stress away the same way as the beach waves
Copy and paste, lying next to you is like closing your eyes under the sunset oceanside
A bright blushing sky with kisses of orange, and blue with a honeyed taste that simply grabs you
But nothing is as sweet as your sugar, under the shade of this suite
Fresh chill of a neutral setting is cooked by our body temperature
Peace in the reflection is bringing us closer
When I look back at how we arrived at this destination within the calm ripples I see a truth in the tomb of love at first sight
Our photograph under the light being born from fallen petals is a coveted site
I had to see the treasure I already had instead of searching for gold
That’s when our story began to unfold, I hate folding clothes
I rather unfold and devour deep conversations over shallow beverages
She likes easy ice, but I want more, as deep as the roots of this tree
The ying and yang
Discovering the ocean intricacies when it closes its eyes to dream and wakes up with a kiss complemented by a southern twang
She’s my main thang, calling my land line
Our language reads between the lines
Wrinkled with age or bitten white chocolate sheets
I love seeing your cherry blossom cheeks
p.s. you be the pink and I’ll be the red for Valentine’s… -
Lorinda Boyer responded to a letter in topic Why do you love yourself? 1 years, 2 months ago
Thank you for taking the time to encourage me. I so appreciate that!
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aisatheauthor submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months ago‘Day Away
Aisa MWhat’s in the way—
first thought of the day?First thought of the day:
If I still knew how
to play pretendfirst things first
I’d love my brain again.“Have fun,”
they say.Fun?
These days
I spend most daysrunning from
the very idea.I don’t bother—
I don’t let “fun” bother me.Instead,
it’s with peaceand ease
that I wish to
‘shoot the breeze.’Everyday
I do my best—I try.
Even when the only way
I know how
isto cry.
No day is perfect
but what’s a day that’s as close to perfect as it can get?It’s allowing it
to be okaythat my best looks different
depending on the day.To trust that
to have it any other waywouldn’t accomplish the same.
Because to live is
to survive
before it is to thrive.Now what they don’t tell you
is thriving takes reviving.And what remains
can’t be given a name—until the day you can say
“I trust in you.”And so I grew.
At las,
anew.And new…
and new.And I’ll continue to grow
let it showbask in the afterglow
of the perfect day
on replaywith my someone else—
the one I nevergave up on
finding.So when asked to describe
the perfect daysome might say
it’s bright.When asked
I insistthey’re not quite right:
it’s blinding.
Voting is closed
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vonj submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoP. R.A.Y
I’ve been going through some things…
I had a dream, it was something like Dr. Kings.
I had a dream, it was something like Dr. Kings
But I aint have the answers Sway, so I went somewhere and prayed.I pray one day we all take the time out to read, so our minds will be set free. Slow down and end the programming of the music & the T.V.
I pray we become more conscious of the things we consume, redefine what we call food.
I pray we learn to nourish our mind, body & soul.
I pray one day as a people we become whole.
I pray one day, as brothers and sisters we can tend and mend each others broken wings.
I pray we can learn to do things from our heart, and not just to be seen.I pray we truly believe we can fly! Without a basketball, backwood, sheets and funnel or whatever method it is you use to get high.
I pray we stop living just to get by.
I pray we use our voices to sing to the most high.
I pray we look in the mirror, acknowledge and turn from our wicked behavior. For let a man examine himself.I pray we stop bragging about riches and strive for wealth. I pray we stop playing the game for self, the only way to win is to not even play.
I pray we all can sit and learn to pray.I’m not a player, I’m a prayer.
I pray that those who think they have to keep it on them, pray that they never have to use it. It’s a war within ourselves and some things I pray we can learn to leave on the shelves and at the altar.I pray we unlearn all the detrimental things they’ve taught us.
I pray we realize it’s a spiritual war for our souls, and that it’s all mental.
I pray we realize that sex is sacred, and learn to respect our temples.
I pray that when it gets dark, you can be light for your peers.
I pray that this prayer fall on open ears.
I pray we all learn to face our fears.I pray we can acknowledge each other by name.
I pray that you recognize, I am you and you are me. We’re one in the same.
I pray we learn to hate fame. I pray that your spirit is renewed. Realizing you’re a fearless, righteous, educated and strong human. That’s F.R.E.S.H.I pray you know you’re not lucky. But yes, you are blessed. And yes, I pray this prayer outlives me.
I pray you share and soak up all of this knowledge and wisdom I’ve given from my heart for free. AmenVoting is closed
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Hello,
Your poem is very beautiful and refreshing. I appreciate the honesty and one can hope one day in the, preferably, near future, it’ll come to fruition. Thank you for your prayer.-
Thank you 🙏🏾 I’m glad this blessed you. Please share with anyone you feel it will bless. Just a prayer 🤲🏾 from the heart, growing up and experiencing life in Washington, DC the other side of the White House, the Capitol and the Monument.
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poeticaddiction_365 submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoMy Perfection
Tracy B.As close to perfection
A day can get
It has to be filled with
Joy, laughter and a good time
Simplicity at its finest
I picture a day filled with love
Surprising my Bae with tickets
To see one of her favorite comedians
B. Simone
Not ruining the surprise
Being a little suspenseful
‘Cause the romance
Should never die
Keeping the spark alive
Laughing uncontrollably
From start to finish
Seeing that smile on her face
Means so much
Any day with you makes the world
Seem perfect
Even though we know that not to be true
You are quite a dream come true
Any other day that could even measure up
Would have to be filled with
Rest, relaxation, some good music and poetry
A warm bubble bath to soothe the tense muscles
Forgetting the troubles of the day or week
Allowing my self care to be my peace
Resetting my intentions
Cleansing my mind, body and spirit
A perfect day can lead to many blessings
I just pray for a day that is calm
That leads to memories to be cherished
And is close to my definition of perfection!Voting is closed
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Hello,
Thank you for sharing. It’s the simple things that matter most in day to day life anyhow, they’re all puzzle pieces to life. All the listed suggestions sound very appealing.-
Thank you Ari for reading and I appreciate your honest feedback!
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seymojl submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoA Perfectly Perfect Day
Jody SeymourStreaks of gold sift through the slits of wood as I wake to feel the warmth caress my face.
Lips brushing against my forehead with silken kisses gently encouraging me to open my eyes.
A quiet conversation while slowly sipping cinnamon tea. I feel the heat in the curve of my hand as it transfers from my favorite ceramic mug.
Bringing me peace as I embrace the tranquility of the moment. The aroma enveloping my senses and perfuming the room.
I casually let my fingers slide over my wardrobe as I create my ensemble for the day.
The beauty of feeling unhurried and able to relish in the pleasure of selecting garments showcasing my individuality.
I fold my body into my girl, a brilliant blue Jeep, made naked as to relish the scents of spring and the whispers of the wind.
The destination not the priority. A leisurely excursion to escape the restlessness.
Taking in the warm breeze on a sunny afternoon. The radio playing my favorite songs, bringing back memories of times past.
The path followed as I sail through the countryside leaving thoughts of my younger years and dreams left along the way.
Stopping midday at a favorite cafe to indulge in a meal with my closest friend.
The conversation bringing joy to my soul as we talk lightly and laugh loudly without reservation.
Smiling as I head back home with the hours on the backside of the day. Time moving slowly and shadows appearing as the miles drift by.
I lace my shoes and head out into nature to indulge in the solitude of running alone. This too invoking feelings of pure satisfaction.
Allowing for silent meditation and a chance to release the burdens held within. The one true moment of peace as I feel the calmness radiating throughout my body.
As day cascades into night I welcome the quiet of the evening with the one I hold dear.
Welcomed home with a sweet embrace. The beauty of detailing our day in an encouraging exchange.
The sun slowly fading and capturing the last remnants of this beautiful moment in time.
I climb into the comfort of our bed with the arms of my beloved pulling me near.
I drift off knowing I wouldn’t change a thing. Time stands still as I recall the perfect day.
Voting is closed
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This is so soothing! Sounds like a wonderful day. Thank you for painting this picture for us!
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Greetings,
Your writing beautifully captures the serenity of simple joys and cherished moments. It paints a picture of peacefulness. Bravo!
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kortkort submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoA Perfect Day for a Perfect Me
Kortney R GarwoodThis day starts with me opening my eyes to give thanks.
Thanks to My King, My God, for soothing my soul.
Allowing me to wake up in absolute peace and feel whole.
I feel as though I’m lying in the clouds,
emotionally safe and secure as I embrace this moment.
This is my state of euphoria, and I emphatically own it.
My mind methodically plans for what lies ahead
as the lyrics to melodic tunes play in my head.
My perfect day has just begun.The routine of my day has never been so smooth
I patiently take my time constructing my look to fit my mood
From head to toe…
My glow, my fit, my flow.
I look in the mirror, pleased with what I see,
comfortable in my skin and free to be me.As I head out into the world and follow my script
I long for the taste of some java, retail therapy, and a favorite flick
Why? These are the makings of me.
The smile on my face and the confidence in my walk.
I could live out this day many times over.
No stress, no strife, no roadblocks ahead.
My perfect day is far from over.This day is just what I’ve made it
with the blessings I’ve been given.
The strength to get up and live my life.
The mindset to understand that life is what I make it.
The love that I have for myself to do the things that make me happy.
Most of all, knowing that every day is a gift
and not to be taken lightly.As the evening rolls in and slows down my perfect day,
I pull up a seat at my favorite speakeasy without dismay.
There to indulge, I partake in a lovely, herbaceous and tart,
yet ever-so-sweet libation,
as I wait for this day to deliver its final culmination.
Not sad to see it go by any means,
because I know there will be many more days like this to be seen.
Perfect in every way.
Just me living, loving, and enjoying my fulfilling day.While reminiscing about this day, I sit back and say…
There was nothing particularly special.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Just a day of me doing me.
I suppose that’s what makes it so perfect,
it reminds me to just be.
A perfect day, for a perfect me.Voting is closed
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hgray624 submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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aquarianmelo submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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vermontpoetess submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoMason
Necia CampbellMy day could start in ashen gray
like dried-up winter weed bouquets,
but then my grandson shrieks, “Mammay!”
and color swirls in rich array.A fingerpainted masterpiece
infused with snacks and sweetened tea–
bright backdrop for the tales we read,
immersed in toddler fantasy.Flamboyant toys conceal the floor,
confetti from a plastic war
that ranged from couch to Singapore–
and now he begs to go outdoors.Bemusement stains pale cherub cheeks
and nature springs delighted shrieks
when stones splash into frothy creeks
or bluebird skies frame honking geese.Aweary fingers grab my hand,
for will alone cannot withstand
the golden grains of sleepy sand;
I lull him into lala land.Reflection on this drowsing dear
who celebrates with heartfelt cheer
the wonderment of Gaia’s sphere
is every dark mood’s rainbow cure.Voting is closed
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This poem is so full of love! Thank you for writing this, it’s beautifully done!
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Thank you! He really makes my days so full of love…grandbabies are the best! ❤️
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This is absolutely beautiful! The abundance in love that pours out of this piece is astounding!
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Thank you! I’m hoping to be able to one-off print him a chap book of poems he’s inspired so he’ll always remember how much I loved him when I’m gone. I’m not dying, though, don’t worry! 😊
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Ciao,
I quite enjoyed your piece and you portray the blessing of children quite well. I can feel your emotion and the vibrant essence of your relationship behind it. Very beautiful!-
Thank you! I’m so thankful that I get to spend so much time with him. He’s such a love and so much fun. ❤️
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kslove submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoA Perfect Day
K. S. LoveAn alarm-clock-free morning,
There’s nothing more soothing.
I took my first sip of coffee
As I lounged by the window,
Absorbing the beauty of a day minus responsibilities.
“I love everything about today,”
I affirmed, consumed by my thoughts:Maybe, I’ll make the hour-long drive
To my favorite beach,
Visit a couple of discount stores,
Or stop by that cozy little restaurant, I adore,
For a savory meal and a delicious treat.I could always search for
A binge-worthy show,
Grab a bottle of Chardonnay,
Pop some popcorn and snack,
Until I drift off into the most pleasant sleep,
Cultivating the sweetest dreams.“You know what?”
I ask myself aimlessly…
“You’re overthinking it…
The only way today will be perfect
Is if I do all of these things.”
So, I did.Voting is closed
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Ciao,
Your poem of indulgence and relaxation is delightful. I love the idea of a spontaneous adventure as well.-
Hi there,
Thank you. I appreciate your taking the time to read it. Sometimes all we need is a little spontaneous fun.
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madelianides submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoMy perfect day oh perfect day
My perfect day oh perfect day
I feel like living my life my way
If I lose the joy of living my life
My reasonable happiness leaves me with my strife
I better be living this time of year
It don’t matter if I shed a tear
If I’m not living happy or not
Forever in a web I shall be caught
My perfect day oh perfect day
My life shall go on I shall have no dismay
If I am not happy alive or dead
Then off the world goes with my head
I want to live, that is my way
My perfect day oh perfect dayMy perfect day oh perfect day
Life shall go on or so they say
I want to live for I am free
To do many things of value I see
I love to play music even swim
I don’t care if my body is slim
I live my life breathing and glad
Glad I don’t die, man that would be bad
I ain’t afraid to be called up yonder
But it ain’t my time yet so it I won’t ponder
My life is mine I won’t be swayed
My perfect day oh perfect dayVoting is closed
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ashraymondjames submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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brewith1e submitted a contest entry to
What is your ”perfect day?” 1 years, 3 months agoDear Father
Bre LynnIn my perfect day
You’d still be here
We would be sipping coffee
By the pier
Watching the morning sunrise
Seeing the glimmer in your eyesIn my perfect day
We would read underneath palm trees
Taking in the ocean breeze
Snapping memories that will never leaveIn my perfect day
Cancer wouldn’t exist
Taking you away
Would be completely dismissedIn my perfect day
We would watch the sunset by the water
You would never leave
I’d still have my fatherIn my perfect day
I would live inside a world
Where there would be no fear
And when the day is done
You would still be hereVoting is closed
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Salutations,
Firstly, my sincerest condolences. May he rest in peace.
I feel your grief behind your words. I pray your heart heals and your memories bring you comfort, more than pain. Your piece is very expressive and elegantly melancholic. -
I am so very sorry for your loss, Bre. This is an incredibly beautiful poem. I am sure your father is smiling while he watches over you. Sending hugs. <3 Lauren
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