Poetry Blogs (growth)
All the hurt is making me stronger, The deceitful ways help me strive for better days,
I know how it feels not to be loved by your loved ones
I know how it feels to be cold,
Living with no heat, three pairs of socks on my feet,
Still I stay strong in the mist of my storm
Knowing my self worth is better than not knowing at all,
So many stumbles and falls I took to see me,
Monday 18th June 2018 2:56 pm
Your very first
My most important
You held it so tight
I couldn't hold my tears
To make sure you're fed
You in the middle
Across from your neglected crib
Your first steps
Corners were quickly covered
You're getting so big
I always did my very best
Friday 19th January 2018 2:46 pm
is not yet an old soul. Such apprenticeship has not yet begun.
Studiously she watches as you cite your second hand wisdom.
Bested by her innocence, such familiar nostalgia withers like the thick layer of dust it hides beneath.
Shaken and bruised like brine against an ice cube, the vermouth of your ideals is poured into an ill fitting glass.
Left feeling dirty you turn to d...
Saturday 23rd December 2017 6:57 am
A Tumblr picture; my first bikini
In the ocean
I had been so proud, disabled and beautiful
That's when you saw my shine
You reached out like a moth to a flame
Too fast, my love, too fast
One makes mistakes
when no one hesitates
Oh how much you have grown my love
Not only have you become the man I saw all along
You have become the man you have always wanted to be
Tuesday 21st November 2017 1:31 am
Phases. Transitory time patches
Grouped or characterised by a theme.
A shade, a colour, a tangible
And identifiable sameness.
Phase of fashion.
Reflecting an idea.
Perhaps marking self out as distinct.
Separating self from the others.
Friday 11th August 2017 4:53 pm
The clouds streak an arrow of neon green,
My shadow beneath,
Quivering in silence.
The sun, glistening through the holes in the patterns,
Showers its fluorescence across the earth below,
I stand in a section divided.
The sky is not yet Crimson in nature,
No, it sits still, below the stars, but above the trees,
How I remain stationary, though I sprint,
Monday 5th June 2017 5:53 pm
Your born into a family
No one knows why
Is it souls recconecting
Or random out of the sky
You learn lessons from all
Good and bad
But family is something not everyone has
Some endlessly search with false expectations
And some find love with no altercations.
Open your mind and then you will see
Family is nothing different than a tree
Leaves will come and go while branches will ...
Sunday 5th June 2016 7:42 pm
Things seen unravelled from the sense they make
make non-sense of sense.
Collected and reassembled
they are merely the same thing repackaged,
brand new shiny exciting
though there is nothing new under the sun
for she is ever static, yet falling
it is the light she emits that alters th...
Thursday 14th January 2016 3:23 am
There is something wonderful in destroying yourself.
In erasing a past which intrudes on every fibre of being,
to flush it
delight in its demise.
To see it gone.
from the embers of delight
squeeze a new you,
squeeze it out between the sludgy thighs of your once
so infertile with pride
so chained by the thing you created w...
Sunday 10th January 2016 9:50 am
I've been lied to, setup, used as damage control, taken advantage of. thrown through your ringer and drowned in your crocidile tears. But you never knocked me down. Your sins against me, I wear them as armor.
Monday 8th June 2015 10:57 pm
Flicked flickering sand slices slashes
Pain and anguish portrude pen to paper
Releasing resting relief from crooked corner
Creation creates creativity
Crusty cankers and cracked crevices
Friday 24th October 2014 5:08 pm
Inside her closet are the remains of a broken umbrella with the materials in cinders.
Her skin cloak is draped over a spindley coat stand,
most people name it a spine,
most people's are strong,
They carry the puppet as if a master holding strings...
But sometimes autum's trees fall down
because nature is flawed.
Sometimes a stem ca...
Thursday 9th October 2014 8:19 pm
Is the longest I've been able to go without sex since I was 16
I stood frozen, mind racing a mile a minute
Trembling as the truth set in
I was unable look away
As memories replayed themselves like movies in the mirror
New characters and slightly different scenario in each one,
But the plot was always the same
Has always been the same
Since that time when I was 1...
Monday 7th July 2014 10:41 pm
Tuesday 30th July 2013 11:06 am
Another attempt at my paternal tongue.
Un altro tentativo di mia lingua paterna.
And though I beam with pride as I'm learning.
E anche se mi fascio con orgoglio, come sto imparando.
I'm aware that translated, the metre is wrong.
Sono consapevole del fatto che tradotto, lo strumento è sbagliato.
But this language pulsates to my yearning.
Ma questo linguaggio puls...
Monday 8th April 2013 11:31 pm
Awareness Bi-lingual Crisafulli Discovery Family Father Global Growth Honesty Iambic Pentametre Innovative Inspiration Inspirational Italian Italy Love Lyric Metaphor Metre Multinational NaPoWriMo Ottava Riva Ottava Riva form Paternal Poetic Poetry Roman Rome Self-awareness Self-discovery Spoken Word The Five Faces of Fulli Ushiku Crisafulli Verse
In poetry, autumn is approaching death.
The mists of receding memory
part briefly in the shortening days
to feed the fruits of wisdom
to admiring young.
The dark night of winter
is a short blight
before life springs forth
again in proud perfection.
Floral beauty and rich crops
have spread their radiance,
fed their progeny, sown their seeds.
Done their job, returned to earth
Wednesday 16th December 2009 12:08 pm
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