Kryptonite

Mouthless Bell

Even if I’m shoutin, from the outside,
Does anyone listen to bells anymore?
Does anyone hear this striking noise?

How can I hold myself up?…when slipping on chalk dust floors.

And you live life in a centrifuge of hope.
But I cannot wish to be your paramount.
And I cannot wish to hold your gaze for so long.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
Can I even admit this to you?
For I need to scream,
But I have no mouth.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
It doesn’t really even matter.
For no one hears a worn out soul.

Please do not linger sunshine.
I’m thieving for a moon seat.

Art: Daehyun Kim Moonassi

Poem: Naomi Ruth

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About Me, Uncategorized

At the least, to die, with poetry in mind.    I’ve been writing since I was fifteen, what I say is poetry. I never shared publicly my writing,until now. The textures of my writing varies from sorrowful bits, celebratory portraits, self confessions, and erotic undertones.  I was trained in the visual fine arts but all influences lead back to the essence of words or music. Writing for me has been the most honest path to stashing grief and evocative emotions. Enjoy and leave sweet or salty comments. Both are welcomed.

At the least, to die, with poetry in mind.    I’ve been writing since I was fifteen, what I say is poetry. I never shared publicly my writing,until now. The textures of my writing varies from sorrowful bits, celebratory portraits, self confessions, and erotic undertones.  I was trained in the visual fine arts but all influences lead back to the essence of words or music. Writing for me has been the most honest path to stashing grief and evocative emotions. Enjoy and leave sweet or salty comments. Both are welcomed.

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Jay Poem 2.

Jason’s Rock – A View from Black Mountain Tops

We drift into the oblivion,
We forget our own names.
We trace black circles,
Around our birth stains.
We use ladders to reach above Mountain tops, to feel some       Type of greatness-
We deny the torturous Reminder,we will be without       The other.
We trace black circles,
Around our birth stains;
To find each other in the next life.

Art and Poem by: Naomi Ruth Saharski  W.                                         Muse: J.B.W.

 

 

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