Poetry Writing

a prayer of inspiration

The wind is not nearly bracing enough tonight.
It’s calming and balmy and chilly
while I sit here demanding hurricanes
and hail, the wind on fire coming to
carry me away, to burn and to purge
with sandpaper skin sailing through my window.
I’ve tossed and turned in every reachable sea,
made my own oceans and drowned myself in them all
before the baptism could begin.
It was a baptismal breath,
a barely palpable gasp into new being that
kept me clawing at the barricades
pushing me beneath the waves, into
catacombs crawling with spirits and spiders,
macabre reminders of dark days gone by.
The wind was silent then, is silent now.
It was lush and never lonely.
It caressed and coddled
when I needed it to throw me down,
make me its rag doll.
Tonight, with the moon dancing in the breeze,
the jigsaw pieces meandering into place,
I’m craving destruction, the human spirit
quivering to feel confusion and pain.
Feeling lost to feel found.
Cutting flesh to wrap it up.

Blowing towns to shreds to rebuild them.

via *


  • Emerald Dove

    This is so beautiful – I love how you express things! You are so talented. 🙂

  • Kayla

    "feeling lost to feel found, cutting flesh to wrap it up."
    YES. xoxo

  • The Purple Assassin.

    This was exceptionally beautiful!

  • meg bird

    I feel like your poems were written to get lost in.

  • ivette

    geez…what do you feed yourself upon?… how do you get this high?… where do you come from?… such powerful words come out of your mind girl… you're special…
    thanks for the comment on today's post…I need the good vibes…
    take care! ….

  • D

    so beautiful, so many feelings i have never felt but that yet feel so real when i read them in your poems.

  • Nuha Nasim

    Oh Lord! This is beautiful .

  • brettincasie

    "demanding hurricanes…" brought a twinkle of a tear. This is one I will come back to. Write on!


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