Poetry Everyday

[NavyRet]

So I'm going to start off with this one.....

Here I sit lonely hearted,
Wanted a sht but only farted.

He who writes on shithouse walls
Rolls his shit in little balls.

He who reads these words of wit
Eats those little balls of shit.

 

[Edna]

The Space Between Heartbeats

There is a place between heartbeats
where time forgets to move.
That is where I love you—
in the stillness,
in the pause before the world
takes another breath.

Not in the noise,
not in the daylight chatter,
but in the spaces
no one else can see.

Every glance,
every brush of your hand,
is a universe folding into mine.

And if you asked me
how long I will love you,
I'd tell you—
until even that space
ceases to exist.

 

[EMS]

He who writes on shithouse walls
Rolls his shit in little balls.

He who reads these words of wit
Eats those little balls of shit.

Oi leave my creative poetry alone

 

[Edna]

The Weight We Carry

Some burdens are not loud—
they do not crash like thunder
or split the sky with lightning.
They sit quietly,
like stones in the pocket,
growing heavier
each day you walk.

And still—
you keep walking.

Your feet blister,
your shoulders ache,
but you move forward
because somewhere ahead,
there might be light.

And if there is not—
you will make it.
Even if it's only
a single match flame
against the night.

 

[Edna]

The Climb

The mountain does not move.
It does not care
for your aching lungs,
for the way your hands bleed
on its sharp edges.

It stands,
cold and merciless.

But still,
you climb.

Because there is a truth
that only the wind at the summit knows,
and you would rather die reaching for it
than stay at the bottom
wondering.

 

[Edna]

The Scar is the Story

Life will tear you—
skin, bone, and soul.
It will write its chapters
in the language of pain.

But scars
are proof
you did not end in the middle.

Every mark is a sentence survived.
Every wound is a page
you turned
when you could have stayed there
forever.

And one day,
when you look back,
you will see—
the story was not beautiful
because it was easy.
It was beautiful
because it was yours.

 

[b1u3eyes]

I am back.

Memento

Memento


When I die,
bury me with my guitar
beneath the sand.


When I die,
among the orange trees
and the mint.


When I die,
bury me, if you wish,
in a weather vane.


When I die!

Federico García Lorca

 

[Edna]

Thread of Eternity

We are stitched together,
not by chance,
not by time—
but by something older than the stars.

When I breathe,
I breathe your name.
When I fall silent,
it is your silence I rest in.

If the universe unraveled,
strand by strand,
there would still remain
the thread that binds me to you—
the last light,
the last truth,
the last forever.

 

[Edna]

The Depth of You

I have drowned in oceans,
but nothing compares
to the depth of you.

There are no shores in your gaze,
no bottom to your touch.
You are the tide that pulls me under
and the air I beg for
in the same breath.

I am not afraid
for if I vanish,
if I am lost,
let me be lost
in you.

 

[Edna]

Where I End and You Begin

Love is not two hearts
it is one,
beating through two bodies,
spilling its rhythm into every vein.

I no longer know
where I end
and you begin.

You are not beside me,
you are within me
a song stitched into my marrow,
a flame that survives
even when I am ash.

This is not love.
This is forever.

 

[Edna]

Echoes

You are not here,
yet every room remembers you.
The chair keeps your shape,
the walls hold your laughter
like trapped birds.

I reach for you in the night,
and only the cold answers.
Loss is not silence
it is an echo
that never stops returning.

 

[Edna]

What Remains

Grief does not end.
It only learns
how to fold itself small
and hide in the corners of the day.

But at night,
when the world is quiet,
it stretches—
filling the room,
reminding me
that what is gone
is gone.

And yet,
what remains
is love—
unburied, unbroken,
refusing to die
even when you did.