I am very poetic todayI am very poetic everydayI am dying, slowly walking towards an end declinedSettled as a given despite decliningI am a poem and today’s lines—what are they?They are nothing, seeds on the windSettling who knows whereIn some divine lapOr some entropy ditchWho knows—you know—I knowNone know …🌻 ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Poetic
They are the sunbeams that pierce through the clouds, warming your soul on even the coldest days. Their laughter dances like wind chimes in the breeze, a melody that lingers long after it fades. People who make you laugh are the magicians of existence. With a mere word or gesture, they conjure joy from thin air, turning mundane moments into sparkling gems. Their humor is a bridge that spans across hearts, connecting us in shared mirth. People who help you when you’re in need are the life rafts in the tempest. When the waves threaten to engulf you, they extend … Continue reading Surround yourself with people who make you happy!
Love is the prayer carried in birdsong, the hush of feathers against the morning light. It dwells in the heart like a collection of folded blessings, each one a tender bond of grace. In moments of stillness, love becomes a guide, navigating silence and sorrow, stitching together forgotten dreams. It balances opposites—fire and water, shadow and light—offering harmony where sadness lingers. An artisan of hope, love builds bridges of forgiveness and paints vulnerability into the garden of the heart. It moves between glances, between quiet, stolen moments, planting seeds of renewal. Love remembers, reminding us that belonging is stitched into … Continue reading Artisan
They say love makes the world spin round, but I tell you, it’s not the dizzying whirl of infatuation that keeps the stars aligned. You can want someone, dear, with a fire that consumes you from the inside out. You can want them until your very soul feels raw, exposed to the elements of desire. That kind of longing—it’s like water electrified by a live wire, a frenzied dance of molecules, chaotic and unrestrained. It can transform you into the hand that grips that wire, feeling the surge of energy, mistaking it for destiny. But that doesn’t mean it’s right. … Continue reading The Myth of Electric Love
I tore the treatises and theses, the philosophies.I erased the novels, stories and other poems.I quit the affairs, the datings, my bohemias.I forgot the rosary, the temple, and what the priest said.I ripped memos and letters where I worked.I let go of memories and pains that choked me.I forgot the thorns on my right foot.I left my beliefs and prayers and any sympathy.I faced my vices and fears that my shadow wanted.I left the cage, the chain, the arrests.I threw away words, the books, my boundaries that I brought.I closed my eyes,And there I saw SoulWith everything it carried.I knew … Continue reading Abandon…
At 2:54 a.m., let me craft verses that strip away the veils of the mundane, words that stand unadorned, unashamed in their truth, barer than the flesh that whispers secrets in the dark. Let these syllables be the architects of strength, fortifying the spirit beyond the steadfastness of bone, weaving resilience into the fabric of our being, more enduring than the sinew that binds us. Let my prose touch you with the delicacy of a lover’s caress, with a sensitivity that trembles at the brush of nerve against the world’s canvas, painting emotions in hues so vivid, they leave the … Continue reading Prose about the beauty of words
Deixe-me chorar até cansar, como a chuva que desaba dos céus, lavando a alma e os pensamentos. Permita-me esvaziar o peito, soltar os nós que me sufocam. E então, me leve para algum lugar, um refúgio onde o silêncio seja meu confidente e as estrelas testemunhem minhas lágrimas. Apenas o som do vento e o bater do meu coração serão testemunhas dessa confissão. E Deus? Ele ouvirá, tenho certeza. Pois em cada gota derramada, há uma súplica, um pedido de alívio. Então, me leve para algum lugar, onde o pranto se transforme em esperança, e o silêncio se torne uma … Continue reading Deixe-me …
Parfois, la douleur est si grande et si intenseQue le mot naît en souffrant,Que le verbe naît en criant,Et que le vers emporte l’énormitéDans laquelle l’amour se litEntre un « malgré tout » et un « cependant. » 😔 ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Douleur
Poetry was born a woman. She danced into the world, her steps scribing verses upon the canvas of time, and in her wake, we found our voices, becoming poets by her grace. Without her, our world would be barren, a landscape of infertile lands and gray colors, devoid of the vibrant hues that signify life’s rich emotions. She is the sublime creation, the muse of our deepest contemplations, bestowing upon life its myriad meanings. In her, we find the embodiment of the sacred roles—the nurturing mothers, the caring sisters, the inspiring daughters, the guiding teachers, the pioneering scientists, the supportive … Continue reading Yes …
I have witnessed the dance of darkness and light, the interplay of hope and despair. I have seen the face of humanity, etched with the lines of both cruelty and kindness. I have seen the monstrous acts that one human can inflict upon another, the injustices that make the soul shudder, and the heart weep. I have seen the children, innocent and pure, caught in the crossfire of adult wars, their laughter silenced, their smiles faded. I have seen their small bodies, once full of life and joy, now lifeless and cold. And I have wondered, why? Why does the … Continue reading Why?
