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“Mom, why do the best people die?” “When you’re in a garden, which flowers do you pick?” “The most beautiful ones.”

beatrizesmer

In the garden of life, we are surrounded by a tapestry of souls, each one a unique and precious bloom. Some flowers are vibrant and bold, their beauty captivating all who behold them. Others are gentle and unassuming, their grace and kindness quietly touching the hearts of those around them. The best people, like the most beautiful flowers, seem to be taken from us too soon. Their light shines brightly, their fragrance fills the air, and their absence leaves a void in the garden of our lives. We are left to wonder why such radiant souls are called to depart, … Continue reading “Mom, why do the best people die?” “When you’re in a garden, which flowers do you pick?” “The most beautiful ones.”

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Beneath my skin …

beatrizesmer

Beneath my skin lies a treasure trove of stories, a tapestry woven with the threads of my existence. I am the coursing rivers of blood, the resilient flesh, and the sturdy bones that carry me through life’s journey. I am the weight of regret, the haunting whispers of “what ifs,” and the unwavering beacon of hope that guides me forward. I am the silver-tongued poet, weaving words into melodies that dance upon the air, and I am the heart of gold, brimming with compassion and empathy. I am the delicate paper, bearing the imprints of my experiences, the flowing water … Continue reading Beneath my skin …

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 Yearning to be loved  …

beatrizesmer

We yearn to be loved, to be held in the embrace of another’s affection. But when love eludes us, we seek admiration, a glimmer of recognition that we are worthy and valued. And when admiration fails, we are left with fear, a trembling of the soul before the emptiness of isolation. Desperate for connection, we seek to evoke some sort of emotion in others, to stir the depths of their being and feel the warmth of their response. For the soul cannot bear the coldness of isolation, the barrenness of a world devoid of human touch. But when even this … Continue reading  Yearning to be loved  …

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Neoliberalism as a new fascism

beatrizesmer

Those who dismiss the unemployed and dependent as ‘parasites’ fail to comprehend the intricate dynamics of economics and parasitism. They fail to recognize that a successful parasite is one that operates unnoticed by its host, one that can manipulate its host into working for it without appearing burdensome. In a capitalist society, the ruling class embodies this concept, subtly extracting wealth and labor from the masses while avoiding the label of being a burden. Neoliberalism, with its emphasis on deregulation, privatization, and free market capitalism, can be likened to a new form of fascism. It perpetuates a system where the … Continue reading Neoliberalism as a new fascism

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Let me fill my bowl with the sweetness  …

beatrizesmer

They told me to pour my heart into everything I do, so I poured and poured and poured. I gave of myself, my passion, my soul, until I was emptied of all but echoes of my former self. Now they ask me why I’m so empty, and I say I want a little sugar, kindness in my bowl. I gave my all, my love, my fervor, until I was a vessel drained of its essence. I poured my heart into the world, into the dreams, the hopes, the endeavors, until I was left hollow, yearning for the sweetness of compassion, … Continue reading Let me fill my bowl with the sweetness  …

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Let your humanity be the masterpiece

beatrizesmer

Build on your humanity, let compassion be the cornerstone of your existence. Let kindness be the mortar that binds the bricks of your character. In the grand architecture of your soul, let empathy be the foundation upon which you stand, and understanding the framework that shapes your perspective. Keep hope as a beacon, a steadfast light that guides you through the darkest nights. Let it be the North Star that steers your course, the unwavering belief that tomorrow holds promise, that the sun will rise again, and that joy will find its way to your heart. Dream big, let your … Continue reading Let your humanity be the masterpiece

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The poet

beatrizesmer

The poet, a weaver of dreams and emotions, holds the sacred authority to spin their reveries into verses, to breathe life into the intangible and paint the world with their imagination. Their pen is a conduit for the depths of their soul, an instrument that gives voice to the unspoken and shapes the formless. In this realm of poetic sovereignty, the poet’s words need not seek validation or agreement. They are free to wander through the labyrinth of their thoughts, to explore the uncharted territories of their mind, and to capture the fleeting whispers of their heart. For the poet’s … Continue reading The poet

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Love and fear

beatrizesmer

Today, as the sun stretched its golden fingers across the sky, I awoke with a yearning that seemed to wrap around my very soul, a weight resting heavy in the depths of my being. It felt like a lump in my throat, a silent plea for release. In moments like these, I am reminded that life is a voyage, a journey that demands we believe in the extraordinary, in the impossible. Living is an art, a symphony of beginnings and renewals, a constant dance of hope and resilience. It requires us to rise each day, to embrace the notion that … Continue reading Love and fear

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True love, the kind that lasts a lifetime, is a slow, steady flame that burns bright and strong

beatrizesmer

Who leads the time in love is desire, a flame that ignites the soul and sets it ablaze with the yearning for connection. Love, like life, requires goodwill to flow and slide, a gentle current that carries us towards the shores of happiness. To aspire to love is to prepare the soul, to make it a welcoming home for the guest that is love. It is to open oneself up to an experiment in building, a process that requires patience, work, and a deep commitment to caring for the relationship. Love is a slow, lazy clock that beats out the … Continue reading True love, the kind that lasts a lifetime, is a slow, steady flame that burns bright and strong

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Reader …

beatrizesmer

I read you, like a well-worn book on a dusty windowsill, where the rain taps gently on the glass, and the scent of coffee mingles with the cool air of a spring morning. Each drop of rain heralds the promise of a new beginning, and the bittersweet farewell to what has passed. You are the pages of an open book, inviting me to lose myself within your story. As I take a sip of coffee, its warmth seeps into my soul, intertwining with the words that beckon me to read you, to feel you. I am drawn into your narrative, … Continue reading Reader …