Echo Muses, Lunar Poems, Mental Health

Hollow October

A broken shadow moon
within his silent memory,
descending into the engulfing
blue flame

a rising scream
to pierce through,
an agape
emptiness

goodbye,
imaginary
tender times

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Mental Health, Mine Na Poem

Tornado

Clutching for balance
Unavoidable through straw stark nights
Lost within the gap
Caged in need,
Of rippled static

Surrender in the frightful whirlwind
That moves in silence,
Like a thief in the night
To open wounded doors
And swell in my belly
A nebulous mouth,
Until everything rushes out,
Cleansed
And left with a bosom unfettered

ย  ย  Words & Art by: NaRa

 

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Mental Health, Mine Na Poem

Resplendent Rainbow

How I feel you
On the prowl
I’m the projector of emotional auras
Your titillating colors slip and slid over me like silky ribbon ties
No longer a fixation of identity,
As my rigid selves enter nature’s magical transplanting
Submerged in NaNa, the greens of Nara’s richness of empathy
The arching of hope

Yet, in times there comes a counterpart in my being
A pulling away from the vivid arc in the horizon
And the colors muddle down into one block of black rune, resting on my chest

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Mental Health

Ardorous Air

Found myself again
in a fountain of exuberance
I’m zealous as climbing roses
are towards the sunshine,
Until I’m wavering pale,
jumbling in the moonlight
Navigating through
margaritaceous streams
By the silvery meadow,
rising as a helium exit

Basking above
all my historical lamentations
Up in the stellar tower
Mesmeric fireworks
booming and springing neurons
Remembering
A God within
That asked,
“What’s your favorite color?”
You said, “YOU, if you can be ephemeral, a God, colorless and odorless.”

                                    Words: Nara & Photograph: David Johnson

 

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Mental Health, Relationship

Ossuary Sea

Jellyfish spit love
Tinkering with nature
The pleasure geyser from under the frown
Settle for up or down

A friend that failed you;
Once a three headed goddess
merry-go-round
Now she’s restless as a Wolfgang huntress
Chasing a sorrow bit tale
A mad clap ovation to tear down the love summit

Perplexed, when we come back for more harm
When times are good, demanded the sorrow to stay away
Pushy like the river into the sea
Water element, better then the air to breathe

The horizontal bones
sinking bells below,
Out of decadence we all go under, in watery graves tonight
In hope, to awaken in aria’s soul-mist
A great acquiesce, to exist
A perpendicular recovery
In a circulation towards love again

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Kryptonite, Mental Health

Slipping out of twilight’s swallow

No more, the fragile figurine
A damsel I played at twenty-three
Bewailing old-time wrecks
Shyness usually describes a
modest daughter
But I like crunching the shells

Forget-me-nots scattered at where I end, and another begins
Teeter tottering, a mechanism for equilibrium
Has been replaced with circling the well
For wishes are like rituals prescribed
When the highs and lows are unbearable and through a meaningless loop
Tell no one, for they might sneer and smear your name
Their sweet shared insincerity
are lampshades, to their white hot souls

She called me naive
Ha! All beauties are lures
Eyes are flowers, just blobs of brain on stem
The elaborated mating scheme,
As if he ever noticed my almond petals
Like the possibility of
various UFO shapes
All he saw were dark pools
To sink himself back in
And remind me of my insignificance
Now, onto your self-deprecating,
The hand washing

The abject fear,
My prickly mind taunts
In the same moment of reminding you to swallow your weakness, she says,
“Don’t be a pushover”

Art: Elentori Words: NaRa

 

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Art Illustration + Poems, Mental Health

Julie’s Mica Koi

She’s getting hit with temporal beats.
The neon spine waves โ€” a felt music.
In the metallic night,
banish the derealization.
After the slit,
under the glitterance of scales.
Pain’s slivered mountain, entirety of fiber landscape.
Turned brazen, open the breastplate,
the golden garden awaits.

Rebirth into blooming blood clots
of affectionate friends.
Pond luck, beauty within the muck.
Her perseverance blind and by perchance?
Reality is dew saturated
in her cut palms of presence.
What happened happiness left?
To stop crawling out of her skin,
and sink back into her pores of molecules.
The bodily hearth.
The fervent of living.

Art and Words: NaRa

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