Tag Archives: poetic mind

Why Write?

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I write to escape reality

Or does reality nudge me to write?

I write to transform emotions into poems

Or do poetic vibes transform me into emotions?

I write to make sense of it all

Or does sense make me write?

I write to be one with the vibes

No “or”, I just do….

-camistar.com

Bhakti01

 

Sleepless Nights…

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In the midst of sleepless nights, what is one to do?

Uncomfortably sprawled attempting a meditative breath,

Not a sound in the world as rejuvenating takes place, yet you lay nocturnally,

Am I a half breed of a night owl?

Lightless nights energize my soul, curious thoughts, creative wonders in my mind,

Listless nights as if the only soul alive,

Oddly, I welcome your wanning moon,

Dulled beauty awaits as if I’m to hunt my prey, yet rejuvenation must take precedent,

In the midst of sleepless nights, what is one to do?

Insomnia Drawing by Joanna Smielowska | Saatchi Art

Disarrayed Flower

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Ravishing from head to toe.  Her mind jumbled with a million thoughts attempting to formulate one word.  One thought. One idea to express the monstrosity composed of her mind.

A delicate flower, full of life and laughter.  Her laughter allures an audience of well-formed men and women oblivious of her chaotic mind.

Wine in hand, fire stick in another, whispering sweet nothings to supposed lovers.  Lovers enticed with her fired soul.  Burning flesh as they osculate each whisper of her misery.

Mad for classical air, she refrains from cowering to his glow.  Under the blinking stars, she yearns to rejoice in conscious oblivion.  Aware of the needed solitude, he retreats from her disarrayed mind.

The delicate flower blooms among her own isolation.  Descended deeper into her delicate realm.  She continues to walk her ravishing life as onlookers admire her composure unaware of the obscurity of her own mind.

Beyond her world lies one mind.  One soul.  One heart.  One flower.  Her world.  Desolate of consciousness.  Death will take her life.  Chaos will feed into hypocrisy.  She is simply a conscious flower living among weeds.

Weeds of our world.

As to her is to you.  As with you is with her.  Crumbles of cutter.

Catch the jumbles if you can.

She can.

-Cami*Star