Tag: poet

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You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty …

beatrizesmer

“But my dear,” he said, “you are not a story.” You are not a refuge, a tale to escape the world’s worries. You are not crafted to be a mere display, a set of words to elegantly sway. You are not the triumph of good over evil, nor a fable of light against dark. You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty and fear, a balance so perfect, kind yet fierce, painfully real, my dear. You are not a chapter to be read and closed, not a narrative that’s easily disposed of. You are the rawness of truth, the complexity … Continue reading You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty …

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Gentle whisper of peace

beatrizesmer

You are a gentle whisper in the breeze, untouched and pure, like gazing upon a tranquil wind caressing little trees and open landscapes. Your skin evokes the serenity of endless peace, stretching out for miles and miles, a boundless expanse that soothes the soul. I trust you as I trust the steadfast evergreens, rooted in their simplicity, like the unchanging horizons that stretch into eternity. In you, there resides a peculiar, barefoot beauty, forever in motion, yet never fleeting. It is a beauty that dances with the wind, a grace that lingers in every step, promising to stay, to endure. … Continue reading Gentle whisper of peace

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You leave a little piece of yourself behind with every good-bye

beatrizesmer

With every farewell, a piece of our soul lingers in the air, a whisper of our essence that remains long after we have departed. It is the imprint of our presence, the echo of our laughter, the warmth of our embrace that lingers in the hearts of those we leave behind. Like a trail of stardust in the night sky, we scatter fragments of our being with each parting. Our words, our gestures, our shared moments become the tapestry of memories that we weave into the lives of others. And though we may physically move on, a part of us … Continue reading You leave a little piece of yourself behind with every good-bye

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Spill yourself out!

beatrizesmer

Pour yourself onto the paper, let the ink flow like a river, carrying the weight of your unspoken words. Drag the pen across the page, etching your story into the fibers, staining it with tear marks and the rawness of your emotions. Breathe life into the pages, infusing them with the scent of your struggles, the echoes of your internal battles. Handle it as though it were poison, for the words you spill onto the paper are potent, a reflection of your deepest truths. Slide it between the leaves of an old, dusty book, a relic of your unspoken confessions, … Continue reading Spill yourself out!

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Sensitive beings

beatrizesmer

In the quiet spaces where words fade into the hush of solitude, there exists a realm where sensitivity blossoms into understanding. Anyone can hear the notes of a whispered heart, but it takes a soul attuned to the delicate symphony of emotions to truly comprehend the unspoken language of the silent and the lonely. These are the gentle souls whose love transcends the limitations of speech, whose affection flows in the graceful arcs of their gestures. They are the ones whose presence is a soothing balm, whose touch carries the weight of a thousand unspoken confessions. In their silence, they … Continue reading Sensitive beings

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Hourglass …

beatrizesmer

In this place, there lingers the scent of countless empty years, a musty fragrance that clings to the air like a ghostly remnant of time’s passage. Each page, weathered and worn, tells a story of days long gone, their sepia tones a testament to the relentless march of time. Dust dances in the stillness, stirred only by the breath of half-hearted readers, their presence a mere echo of the past. Here, time seems to stand still, suspended in a realm where the boundaries between past, present, and future blur into a hazy continuum. The half-dead readers, lost in the labyrinth … Continue reading Hourglass …

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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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Life beauty …

beatrizesmer

My great fault, my elemental flaw, is this relentless pursuit of beauty, an unyielding craving for the exquisite in every detail. It draws me into the tumultuous maw of need, entwining me in the unending desire that holds me captive. For I see beauty, I see it everywhere, in the delicate intricacies of life’s tapestry, and in that seeing, I am bound to love. It’s the way the sunlight weaves through the leaves, casting a dappled dance upon the forest floor. It’s the way the rain paints the world in glistening hues, a symphony of droplets on windowpanes. It’s the … Continue reading Life beauty …

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Fate …

beatrizesmer

Fate, the fickle trickster, plays with our hearts like a puppeteer pulling the strings of destiny. It dangles the promise of happiness before our eager eyes, only to snatch it away at the last moment, leaving us feeling like foolish dreamers chasing after an elusive mirage. We are told that fate is a cruel jester, offering us empty hands while whispering sweet promises in our ears. It teases us with the possibility of joy and fulfillment, only to laugh as we stumble and fall in our pursuit of it. We are left feeling like hapless fools, duped by fate’s cruel … Continue reading Fate …

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Body language …

beatrizesmer

She spoke with a wisdom that resonated deeply, “If we cannot revel in each other’s poetry, then there is nothing here. You cannot share the intimacy of another’s body each night and fail to find beauty in their language.” For in the whispers of our words, in the verses of our souls, lies the true essence of connection. To intertwine with another is to embrace the symphony of their thoughts, the cadence of their emotions, and the melody of their being. It is to cherish the artistry of their expression, to find solace in the verses that dance from their … Continue reading Body language …