Tag: poetry

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In the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens of mine …

beatrizesmer

In the sacred sanctuary of verse, I seek solace in your essence, a draught of inspiration that leaves me bereft of my own being. Here, amidst the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens that weigh upon my heart. Here, I traverse the landscape of language, each word a steppingstone drawing me closer to your visage. And should the trials of time prove too arduous, should the expanse between us demand the ultimate sacrifice in the name of affection, know that my spirit will have intertwined with yours in the final dance of devotion. For love, that … Continue reading In the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens of mine …

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Surround yourself with people who make you happy!

beatrizesmer

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 their hands, … Continue reading Surround yourself with people who make you happy!

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In the Depths of Madness

beatrizesmer

I am not here to compete, nor to parade my eloquence. My words are not a battleground, but vessels—hollow and waiting. Dip yourself into their depths, and you’ll find more than ink and syllables. There, your madness flows, intertwining with my veins. It pulses, a tempest, more potent than mere blood. In this quiet rebellion, we become more than words. We become whispers, etched into the marrow of existence. Copyright © Beatriz Esmer Continue reading In the Depths of Madness

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Love’s nature

beatrizesmer

Love is the prayer that birds sing, their melodies weaving through the morning mist. It’s the soft rustle of feathers against the canvas of dawn, a whispered plea for grace. Imagine your heart as a drawer of blessings, each one carefully folded and tucked away. When you open it, you feel the weight of these sacred bonds—their colors vibrant, their touch both tender and resilient. In the quiet abyss of days, where shadows reign and light tiptoes cautiously, love finds its path. It navigates the voids, tracing constellations of hope. Time becomes silent, and silence itself becomes a balm, soothing … Continue reading Love’s nature

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My heart does not beat … it spanks me …

beatrizesmer

Within the chaotic depths of my soul, where thunders of love and echoes of longing reside, my heart does not merely beat—it rebels. It is a wild drummer, pounding against the walls of my chest with the fervor of a thousand storms. Each throb is a testament to the untamed dance of my spirit, a rhythmic spanking that awakens every fiber of my existence. It speaks in a language only the soul understands, a dialect of desire that courses through my veins like liquid fire. This heart of mine, it does not beat… it spanks me, reminding me that to … Continue reading My heart does not beat … it spanks me …

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In the quiet of the night,

beatrizesmer

Our bodies danced to a rhythm known only to us. Fingers brushed against skin, tracing delicate paths across thighs, leaving trails of warmth. Softness met softness, and in that tender collision, we discovered secrets hidden in the folds of our existence. Your lips found solace on my back, imprinting kisses like whispered promises. With each touch, you unfolded me, as if unseating shoulder-bones and undoing hips were acts of devotion. My spine, a delicate manuscript, yielded to your touch, revealing chapters of longing and desire. “I am not a bird,” I whispered, my voice a fragile confession. “I am not … Continue reading In the quiet of the night,

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A Day of Awakening

beatrizesmer

There lies a hope inside my poor heart —a yearning for a day when the world shifts on its axis, when the sun rises with a different hue, and when compassion becomes the currency of our souls. Wouldn’t it be a most awesome day when the self-proclaimed Christians—the bearers of the cross—truly heeded the whispers of their Savior? When they stepped out of stained-glass sanctuaries and into the gritty streets, their footsteps echoing the ancient path of love and justice. Imagine them, these modern-day disciples, casting aside the shackles of indifference. Their eyes no longer averted from the downtrodden but … Continue reading A Day of Awakening

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The Alchemy of the Heart

beatrizesmer

In the quiet chambers of the heart, where whispers echo and secrets dwell, there is a rhythm—a gentle cadence of giving. It is a heart that breathes life, not with the force of a tempest, but with the softness of a zephyr, so as not to hurt. Put Love into our hands, for they are the crucibles of our humanity. They divide, not to diminish, but to multiply—to share the warmth of a touch, the comfort of a grasp. In this division, we find the arithmetic of compassion, where every act of kindness multiplies, spreading like ripples across the surface … Continue reading The Alchemy of the Heart

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Prose about the beauty of words

beatrizesmer

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

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Prayer For The Poetry In Me

beatrizesmer

In the serene dusk of being, where the world often presents its harsh realities, there lies a tender prayer to the great architect of the Universe, the guardian of life’s mysteries. “Father,” whispers the soul, yearning for guidance through life’s labyrinth, “may my eyes, those windows to the vibrant hues of dreams and wonders, never be shrouded by the bitter frost that life can sometimes breathe upon us.” For in the poetry of life, we find solace, a rhythm that beats in harmony with our heart’s deepest desires. It is the poetry that paints our experiences in shades of hope, … Continue reading Prayer For The Poetry In Me