Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Recent Comments

My pond

Subtle noise.

I try to poise my thoughts.

The ripples in my pond of thinking are restless. 
Stretching across the vast waters of memory.
Surely ripples should be quiet?
I should stop skipping stones across it.
Since my pond, may not be wide enough to contain ripples.
Not deep enough to sink a stone.
Or is the depth endless?
Bottomless?
Should the stone I throw sink in...

Read and leave comments (2)

The curse of optimism

 

An absence.
 
Fraught sort of Feeling.
Words whirling, streaming, only to fall.
Down.
Down to jagged rocks.
Deep in the dark, it is too wet for a spark, 
For fire.
The glowing warmth of fire.
Icy currents drown desire.
The dreams in these streams cause a torrent of hope.
Only to drop into a dark pool.
But a fool may see a waterfall.
 

Read and leave comments (0)

I am

 

I am fine.
My pain is mine.
Mine alone.
Weakness exposed.
And weakness I have known.
I am fine.
I am here.
Or did I disappear into quietly hidden fear?
 
I am fine.
Life is not but love is kind.
The kindest I've known.
Love has shown, a kind of strength I had not known before.
I am fine.
I am here, with you.

Read and leave comments (2)

Death of a Thistle (part2)

As the sun subsides.

The cold wind rides the waves, across the sea.

Starved of light she fights to survive.

The harsh pains of overwhelming rains, and frosty dawns.

Winter scorns her.

She withers to stem, as her petals fall to soils too hard to nourish or flourish from.

Long gone are summer showers.

The warm rays of empowering long days.

She recalls when she would dance, in...

Read and leave comments (3)

Birth of a Rose (part1)

God plucks only a few for the vase of history,

from his garden of flowers and trees,

all different in petals and leaves.

She blossoms.

And everyone knows this flower grows better, the wetter the tears of human nature make the ground around her.

She catches the sun.

To rise from the earth.

Read and leave comments (2)

Life's Rain

 What's life minus soul?

Soaking up rain.

 Still, dry to the core.

Bathing in sound.

Caught in encompassing silence.

Droplets on my cheek.

The thirst of drought within subsides.

Waves of joy and laughter deafen me, and I am showered with hope.

Showered in life's rain.

Read and leave comments (3)

Waiting room

 This waiting room like life.

Slow but never sure.

What are we waiting for?

Why are we hanging around?
And what is that sound?

Only solemn faces, in these types of places.

Dispare on display.
I want to look away.
But I stare in wonder,
As I ponder life from this waiting room.

Read and leave comments (1)

Rhymes

I write in rhymes,

to make hard times seem easier defined,

as a chorus of growth and empowerment.

 

Thoughts become relevant,

in opposition to benevolent ways.

Far behind me are my self-destructive days,

that phase.

 

Our existence is melodic.

A gift.

Still upon it,

we place expectations and material needs,

all this feeds society's greed.

 

Rhythm i...

Read and leave comments (3)

To start to end

 If all good things end, why start?

 

An endless search for satisfaction.

A cruel joke.

A treadmill of experience.

 

To start is to learn.

To grow.

The journey or the destination.

Which holds worth?

 

What I know, outweighed by what I don't know,

Read and leave comments (2)

Scars

A body with character.

A wise woman would say.

 

OUR NAKED TRUTHS.

 

Hips to thighs,

stretch marks to wrinkled eyes.

 

Hide.

We say we don’t, but we do.

Hide.

I won't.

 

MY NAKED TRUTH.

 

I have grown.

You see, the thing I’d never known,

before this time,

is that I’m fine in this body that’s mine.

 

We will judge ourselves far more than o...

Read and leave comments (1)

Just us

You fear change.

I fear fate.

Ever variable,

time and space,

emotion and place.

 

The reciprocation of love.

 Elevation.

 

But rejection.

Fear spreads like an infection.

Insecurity insets.

Like insects breeding within.

 

I begin to wonder.

What do I acquire to quench desire?

How to be?

What to say or do to be,

who I am to me

being who I am...

Read and leave comments (4)

Born to greatness.

 Lost for words.

I try to compose.

Like the greats before me,

an ode of purpose.

Will they ever be alongside me, or me alongside them?

 

Striving to create positive terms as these beats and words churn within me like butter.

Viscous.

Velvety.

The only thing to do with this dairy delight is to spread it,

upon the bread of female stance.

 

See, at a glance,

...

Read and leave comments (5)

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message