An effervescent soul striving to beam poetically in HIS light...perhaps you’ll relate.

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  • poetryly 3d

    #combination #wod
    Pic image - Bitmoji app

    Poetry is my last hope
    when my fingers have moment
    but my feet are motionless.
    It’s the only open avenue
    my emotional voice can
    safely travel.

    Whenever I suspect
    undesirable notions
    are venturing to
    continually reoccurring,
    continually reoccurring
    relishing my mind perpetuating.

    Continually reciting my weakness,
    continually reciting my weakness
    until my hand anxiously grasp the pen!

    Propelling ink
    gliding letters
    between airy lines
    random thoughts
    in slow momentum
    gaining speed
    to eventually become
    air borne verses relieving my mind
    by finally taking flight across the pages.

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    Poetic Pilot
    piloting poetries
    on pages!

  • poetryly 1w

    #start #wod

    I love I *wanna write and than the words start to flow! *See previous post

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    I LOVE

    I love ambience rainy days
    with autumn leaves and
    cozy feelings.

    I love anxious moments
    when I feel them
    finally receding.

    I love when positive vibes
    shields me from
    toxic attitudes.

    I love prayers
    that weren’t readily
    answered until needed.

    I love my love ones
    and their distinctive smiles
    and voices.

    I love poetries
    my mind relates
    what my pupils evokes.

    I love the joy of writing
    from simple verses
    to lengthy stories.

    I love learning to embrace
    God’s humor when HE
    created me unique.

    I love the erratic way
    I speak that calms itself
    on paper.

    I love I have numerous loves
    not all written or in order and
    more to be discover.

  • poetryly 1w

    Image credit - Bitmoji app

    Hey, sometimes life has it’s anxious moments eventually you feel the need to describe it, partly due to being a writer, I think.

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    Oh, how I wanna write,
    compose even the simplest of
    sentences, unadorned with a title
    nor rhyme even the slightest.

    Oh, how I wanna write,
    yet the paper shakes between
    my fingers and poetic half phrases.

    Oh, how I wanna write,
    my soul is crying out to scribble
    please release my anxieties
    with the stroke of the pen!

  • poetryly 1w

    Photo found on previous UC Berkley post on Pinterest

    Simple Wish
    I wish they only knew,
    how much anxiety effects.

    I wish they only knew,
    how much depression deflects

    I wish they only knew,
    without being the one affected.

    “As iron sharpens iron, So one man sharpens his friend” - Proverbs 17:17

    I wish more people could understand or knew or learn how to better empathize without having being the one afflicted. Heartfelt words or even (the smallest) thoughtful deeds can be used in sharpening a dull spirit in need.

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    Simple Wish

    I wish they only knew,
    without being
    the one affected;
    how comforting
    they can be.

  • poetryly 1w

    Pic credit - Muppet Beaker’s parody of Edward Munch the Scream found on Sartle’s Pinterest board.

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    (See lengthy terror
    tale, if you’d dare)

  • poetryly 1w

    As he stepped inside (he’s stomach felt a familiar twist), he found the house a (horrible) mess (reviving angst memories), soiled utensils lying on the floor (in close range to the steel basin fixture, apparently dropped in haste), unwashed clothes lying in the corner (an odor of intrusive stench embracing the room, he eyes started to twitch).

    He’s eyes forcible continues peering at the destruction of his recent immaculate haven.
    He felt caught unaware even though he had an slight inkling of remembrance this was the day they would be free to return. He neglected to mark his calendar to their leaving boxed walls to be released upon orderly civilization.

    It hasn’t even been a full year
    yet they been given a early break.
    Scanning the damages further,
    he’a lips trembles a bit,
    even though he’ll never admit.

    Heart rate beating an erratic drumming
    he previously waltz to!

    Blood pressure scaling veins in terror
    at the relative horror!

    Television was turned on (left on some kind of singular tube yet multitudes of stranger’s videos flashes across
    the screen.
    “Please stop” he silently pleads gripping both sides of his head. He’s hearing and sight assaulted from the tic tocking yet he didn’t noticed a clock in sight).

    “Shut it off”! He’s minds screams even though there’s no human in sight.
    He must be in some kind of shock!

    He (didn’t) instantly called to his wife
    (he’s instincts told him she had been
    abducted hours ago)!

    She must’ve been taken in a dazed haste or else she would’ve called him for help or caution him! Instead he was left to walk in without apparent warning into this
    horrific scenery!

    He was concerned about her welfare.
    Were they demanding enormous funds or taking possessions of
    her credit cards?

    He’s hand gripped his cell, he needed to locate her before it was too late!

    Before he hit even a digital,
    he caught sight of a makeshift note in red ink. He’s still shaken hands grasp it, reading the jerky print. It wasn’t speaking of a ransom yet the words only eased his tension a tad bit.

    As bittersweet emotions overwhelmed him, causing his tears to swell
    even though he won’t’ admit.
    It just one of life’s iconic twist
    and turns with a sweet butter knife.

    He realized his horrible disheveled but beloved kids were back home, on spring break. The realization of the bittersweet twisting in his gut made him wonder how many other unsuspecting fathers came home to
    a seemly crime scene
    and their wife missing?

    Ok I’m a bit late for the date for Miraquill ‘s story challenge. This challenge was kinda of challenging to say the least (pun intended).
    Even though the ending sorta popped into my mind right away. I had to figure out what would come before it. You see the premise of the ending was
    inspired by
    my frustrations after watching
    some old episodes of
    Alfred Hitchcock Presents on MeTV.

    Some of his tv episodes still stand the test of time (I quite enjoy the twists) but there has been a few that have taken me on a mysterious ride only to end with either normalcy or a corny abrupt ending. I find myself saying
    something along these lines
    (at times out loud, I will admit lol)

    “What in the world😱,
    I watched all that for naught”!

    Ok, I usually say nothing but naught just sounded better lol. So I decided to take a stab with my pen my own version if I was a writer on his show back than.

    I hope at the end of reading, you’ll find yourself also saying with frustration

    “What in the world😱,
    I read all that for naught”!

    Than I poetryly have done
    Alfred Hitchcock’s Presents
    justice after all & unashamedly
    given myself
    a 🏆 for that alone😆

    **Please excuse any spelling errors…I grew weary of editing, etc
    As far as grammar…it’s not my strong suit😉 and I’m still keeping my 🏆😂

  • poetryly 1w

    Pic Credit - Unknown but photo found from an article on Pinterest from E. Colbert.

    Maybe you’ll relate how writing (or even reading poetry) can aid in releasing anxious feeling when you feel yourself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

    So when you discover yourself in that uncomfortable spot…WRITE ON! You’ll never know who it may comfort besides yourself even it only one or many…WRITE ON!

    “So, than let us pursue the things making for peace and the things that build one another up.” - Romans 14:19

    Write On or Read On either way we can benefit. Feeling a bit of Peace,
    Poetryly ☺️✌🏽

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    She caught in between that tight squeeze between a rock and a hard place.
    Each direction she seems to turns, complications grips another piece of
    her peeling flesh,
    wounds that aren’t fully healed.
    Aiming to reopen them to
    the negative compassed energy.
    Positive attained vibes
    vehemently grapples to stay intact.
    Pressing back against the tightness
    of being caught in between
    the provibial rock and a hard place;
    determine not to be crushed!

  • poetryly 3w

    #nostalgic #wod @miraquill

    Nostalgic Musing I’m consuming can sometimes be quite confusing…depending on the mood I’m in.

    This write was inspired recounting some true feelings after reading “Nostalgic Notions” skillfully rhythmically written by @lovenotes_from_carolyn for this challenge. This is my spur of the moment write which I seem to do a lot when striving to break from Writer’s Block….*long story short which is actually usually brief….go figure lol.

    *If you wonder what I mean by that….scroll to my previous post and take a leisurely yet seemly haphazardly read but ONLY IF you have the patience…the fortitude to take on this writers’ sorta dare. If not, NP😉

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    Nostalgic Musing

    Nostalgic thoughts tracing the lines of times in my frequently overactive mind.

    Tears brimming,
    some former memories still crisscross
    my heart leaving fresh marks.

    Should I give them permission to overflow
    or will they decide to broke forth
    to ease any intense sorrow?

    These nostalgic feelings are
    causing my emotions to sway
    in such a bittersweet yearning way.

    I’m caught in backtracking the tightest hugs missed my Grandmother giving.

    Previous conversions of
    beloved friends in slow mode reliving.

    Oh, if it wasn’t for my nostalgics weaving,
    I would continually stay struck
    in the beginning stages of grieving.

  • poetryly 4w

    #combinations #wod
    and 👉🏽 #argument

    Long story short like fine wine ages with time,
    quotes I’ve been told or heard. So I will breathe, wait, and hope but this writer will warn you I’m about to go on a familiar whining spree. If you been keeping writing tabs along with me. All I can offer you positively is you can read my complaints for free but if you count your time as valuable but still read further on.

    As the saying going, it on your dime.

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    Long Story Short

    So since you’ve been forewarned
    you can grab some cheese along with
    my no expense whine.

    As the title goes long story short,
    I breathe, wait, and hope you understand how frustrated I am
    with this fickle Iphone of mines!
    When will it finally cease being in cahoots
    with Writer’s Block evil plot?
    I realized it thinks I’m quite naive
    when I caught it sneaking texts telling me I was still asleep and lost in fairy tales dreams.

    Trying to pass off it’s treacherous behavior as if it was my Writing Knight in Shining Armor trying to rescue my moonlight scribbling.
    While instead it was striving to leave me depleted of serious verses by the morn
    and verbally babbling.
    I would’ve been fooled into believing
    its devious show of concern.

    Give me a sec,
    to breathe, wait, and hope and
    get my exasperation better under control.
    You must understand my vexation,
    I almost fell sink, line, and hook for my cell
    being on the take with Writer’s Block!
    If it wasn’t for my irregularly insomnia
    I’ve been had by that crook,
    my backstabbing IPhone with all
    it’s annoying clicks, alarms, and ringtone!

    Long story short,
    this tirade must come to abrupt end.
    If hadn’t already lost you,
    I’m going to
    even for me quite
    include another
    argumentative challenge quote👇🏽

    Not all wine (or people) ages well over time, sometimes it (they) was never good (mean spirited) from the beginning or after it (they) ages. It will probably be the fate of this nonalcoholic piffle of a tale that had you scrolling down figurative pages.

    Long story short,
    it’s time for me to fess up😲

    This is nothing less or more than one of my silly stories to break lose any type of written way from Writer’s Block…solely & only.
    I openly blamed my serious writing issues on an Apple product when it’s the very instrument I’m jovial fabricating upon.

    The outright truth this has been nothing more, nothing less than another one of
    my ahhhh….writing con.

    I apologize now and probably (probably😌) will again so hopefully I will be eventually
    forgiven on this Mirquill’s domain.

    Hey there!
    Pause, breathe, wait and hope this gets better (nada🙄) not only were you apprised beforehand but you were also hoodwinked😉without a clue (or maybe not💁🏽).

    Keep pausing & repeat again,
    you know what.

    Anyway, I hope if you made it to this long finish, it was fine. If you had a bit of silly fun to past your time than it was worth putting embarrassment
    (for me🤦🏽)
    on the writer’s critical firing line.

    Truly & Sincerely,

    I must explain this was a rambling desperate spur of the moment writing escapades after reading a few writes with the verse
    “breathe, wait, and hope.

    I was like…that can’t be a coincidence.
    I like thought….my phone (smh) was being fickle again by receiving a notification (again).
    If it wasn’t a new challenge, I didn’t mean to offend anyone awesome writes.
    That beautiful line just took my mind in a different direction (it happens here regularly).

    As well, I can’t remember if I read here or in a recent book when someone said when anyone says
    “long story short” it usually means you RARELY get the briefest retelling.

    Wait isn’t that quite another argument,
    that I discovered. I regress, where was I🤔?
    Oh yeah, what I have done here frankly purposely yet regrettably😒with friends and family. For that, I again truly and sincerely give an apology if they every read this.

    And That’s All Folks…nothing more for real😁 really real👈🏽oops👇🏽I just unintentionally fibbed. Please excuse any errors…this was way maaad long so I know I missed some

    Simply, and Truthfully
    ^THE END

    ^I found it after the write was first posted it.

  • poetryly 4w

    #argument #wod @miraquill
    Artist credit - Cameron Chapman

    For this challenge for some reasons birds came to mind. I, also, had a certain saying in mind but found this instead 👇🏽

    “You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life.” - Rumi

    I so understand and appreciate the point but
    I still had something to say in my own kinda argumentative way👇🏽

    Even if I was born with wings,
    I prefer to crawl through life
    before taking immediate flight
    so when I finally sprout my figurative wings,
    no matter how later in years.

    Only than can I literally recite how my expansive feathers was hard won while
    I continually gain the momentum to soar to
    the highest height meant for me.

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    Yes, even if I was born with wings,
    I prefer to start at a crawl first
    before even flying.