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To your eyes

beatrizesmer

In the depths of your gaze, laden with sorrow, I find the raw material for my verse. I mold your pain into words, weaving a tapestry of poetry that is meant for you alone. Your weathered hands, marked by the relentless passage of time, I offer mine as a gentle reprieve, a sanctuary of solace. Upon your lips, tinged with bitterness, I bestow the gift of flowers, a reminder that your name evokes the essence of a beautiful day. In these moments, I speak of hope, cradling you in the embrace of the night, adorning you with the tapestries of … Continue reading To your eyes

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Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words …

beatrizesmer

Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words, a dance of emotions and thoughts intertwined. It is the way of the heart to express its deepest desires and fears, to whisper its secrets and dreams to the world. In the delicate balance of rhythm and rhyme, the soul finds solace and release. Each word a brushstroke on the canvas of the heart, painting a picture of the innermost feelings and yearnings. Through poetry, the soul speaks its truth, weaving a tapestry of emotions that resonate with the hearts of others. It is a prayer, a plea for understanding … Continue reading Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words …

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I want to live in a house made of poetry II

beatrizesmer

I want to live in a house made of poetry, where every corner echoes with the rhythm of words and the walls are adorned with verses. In this house, the air is thick with the scent of metaphors and the floors are paved with stanzas. I would wrap myself in blankets woven from the lines of my favorite poems, feeling the warmth of their meaning seep into my bones as I drift into a slumber of lyrical dreams. When morning comes, I would bathe in the essence of poetry, letting it cleanse my spirit and awaken my senses. The words … Continue reading I want to live in a house made of poetry II

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The star will guide me …

beatrizesmer

Mortal as I am, I am but a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of time. I know that my days are numbered, and yet, when I gaze up at the night sky and let my imagination soar with the stars, I feel a sense of freedom and weightlessness. In those moments, I am no longer bound by the constraints of my earthly existence. I am lifted up by the serried multitude of the stars, and my spirit dances among them in their circular course. My feet no longer touch the earth, and I am filled with a sense of … Continue reading The star will guide me …

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Here

beatrizesmer

In the whispers of “here,” there lies a symphony of belonging, an echo of warmth that transcends the boundaries of place. It’s not just the coordinates on a map that define home, but the gentle intertwining of hands, the embrace of souls that make a space sacred. Here is a melody, a harmony woven by the hearts of those who see you as the loveliest thing, yet never seek to confine your spirit. Time becomes a tender dance, a series of lyrical pauses where “here” becomes a person, a memory, a song that lingers in the air. Across vast oceans, … Continue reading Here

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I am here

beatrizesmer

I am here. In this moment, in this place, I stand, a solitary figure on this vast stage of existence. These three words, a declaration echoing through time, encapsulate the essence of my being. Here, in the embrace of this earth, under the canopy of this sky, I find my footing, my purpose, and my truth. Here, not in some distant realm, but on this continent, where the pulse of life beats in harmony with my own. Here, in this city, where the symphony of humanity weaves its intricate melodies, shaping the cadence of my days. Here, in this epoch, … Continue reading I am here

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“I feel ugly”

beatrizesmer

As a black woman, I have had many conversations with white women who seek to empathize with my experiences of racism by drawing parallels to their own struggles with beauty standards. One of the most common statements I hear is, “I feel ugly too.” While I understand that everyone has their own insecurities and struggles, this statement falls short in truly understanding the depth of what it means to be black in a racist society. When a white woman tells me she “feels ugly too,” she is attempting to equate her experiences of beauty standards with the systemic racism and … Continue reading “I feel ugly”

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Be the One Who Stays: Embracing Love and Integrity

beatrizesmer

In a world where fleeting connections and temporary pleasures often take precedence, there’s a profound beauty in being the one who stays. It’s about being the person who doesn’t feel the need to deceive, play games, or shy away from love. It’s about embracing honesty, kindness, and the enduring power of love. Choosing to be the one who stays means standing firm in your values and commitments. It means being the kind of person who doesn’t just talk the talk but walks the walk. It’s about recognizing the significance of love and not allowing fear to dictate your actions. Instead, … Continue reading Be the One Who Stays: Embracing Love and Integrity

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Innocence

beatrizesmer

When I was younger, we lost a bird to a broken foot and I cried for days until mum cupped my face and spoke words that echoed in my heart “if you keep loving so much, you’ll spend your life digging yourself out of the heart cavities of people who do not love you in the same way.” I couldn’t tell her then, that we talk about losing naïveté like shedding weight, as though it’s the best thing that could happen to us. But nobody told me that it’s okay to fall headfirst into people and if they move out … Continue reading Innocence

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Destination

beatrizesmer

I wear your idiosyncrasies like a tailored garment, each stitch a whisper of your secrets. The black dress, a silent witness to every hidden kiss, cradles memories of our past. Amid the relentless march of digital clocks, your essence intertwines with mine, a silent, unyielding bond. Navigating the bustling streets, I tread carefully, evading the reckless dance of runaway cars, yearning for more days to bask in the symphony of your breath. You are mine in a way distinct from the victor clutching a trophy; you are entwined within me, woven into the very fabric of my being, an inseparable … Continue reading Destination