Tag: poetry

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Storms …

beatrizesmer

I carried many storms within me, a tempest of emotions and trials that shaped the landscape of my soul. I have weathered the tumultuous seas, washed myself ashore, and stood as my own tide and lighthouse. This journey of becoming me was no easy feat. I have let my demons dance, and I have uttered curses to the heavens in three languages. Forgive me, for in my vulnerability, I have bared my scars and revealed broken angels etched onto the canvas of my soul. I am the embodiment of night and sunshine, the dichotomy of light and shadow that resides … Continue reading Storms …

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Touch …

beatrizesmer

Touch the innermost parts of me, for I am layered, a tapestry of depths and heights, of shadows and light. My ocean has no bottom, an endless expanse of mystery and wonder. Dive into the currents of my soul and learn to swim in me. Unravel the intricacies of my being, explore the hidden alcoves and the uncharted territories. Let your fingertips trace the contours of my spirit and feel the rhythm of my heart beneath your touch. Discover the stories etched upon the walls of my existence and immerse yourself in the symphony of my emotions. In the boundless … Continue reading Touch …

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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 …

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Nothing …

beatrizesmer

Not even religion can fathom the depths of men’s sins, nor can belief grasp the unraveling of society. In this world, everything is power, and nothing seems to quench the thirst for fulfillment. What then, is the equilibrium of our existence? Can time be hastened, or are we permitted to construct illusions to shield us from reality? What is the extent of our adaptability? Do we learn and evolve each day, or do we remain stagnant, oblivious to the world around us? Are we malleable beings or mere apprentices to fate? Are we creatures of reason or slaves to emotion? … Continue reading Nothing …

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Unlove me …

beatrizesmer

Unlove me, for I am but a silent and fragile wanderer, lost among the autumn leaves, feeling the weight of the world in each raindrop that falls. These words, they cut and choke, blinding my eyes in windows that reflect a weariness with the world. Disarm me with your smiles, unlove me for the shameful mistakes that stain my soul. Let the sunsets and goodbyes bleed me, as I leave home and forget about the promise of spring. For I am dying of love, suffocating under its weight. Unlove me, release me from the chains of affection that bind me, … Continue reading Unlove me …

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I am aware of it, the very many ways to die …

beatrizesmer

I am aware of the many ways to die, the darkness that can consume us whole. But in the depths of despair, I am more aware of the light, the hope that shines through the cracks. I have known the falling, the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I am also aware of the flight, the freedom that comes with soaring above it all. I have tasted the lows, the bitter taste of defeat, but I have also tasted the highs, the sweet nectar of victory. I am aware of the scars that run deep within my heart, … Continue reading I am aware of it, the very many ways to die …

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The invitation

beatrizesmer

Love beckons us to surrender everything, to shed our shields and defenses, and to enter a realm where loss becomes gain. What kind of invitation is this? Who would willingly embrace such uncertainty, relinquishing their beliefs, accomplishments, and the very essence of self that they have meticulously crafted? To release our ideas, our spiritual superstitions, and our guarded constructs is a daunting prospect. It means dismantling the walls we’ve built around our hearts, abandoning our fantasies of completion, and shedding the illusions of permanence and solidity. It’s a terrifying plunge into the unknown depths of the beloved’s embrace. Only a … Continue reading The invitation

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Spinning, spinning …

beatrizesmer

The world I hold dear whirls in a frenzied dance, spinning so swiftly that all I can do is fling words into its maelstrom. I cast them like seeds to the wind, hoping they will bloom into vibrant pictures, intricate drawings, and resonant poetry. In this dizzying whirl, I aim to capture the essence of life in the delicate brushstrokes of language. I seek to transmute the chaos into a tapestry of vivid imagery, a gallery of emotions, and a symphony of verse. With each word I cast, I yearn to paint landscapes of the mind, to sketch portraits of … Continue reading Spinning, spinning …

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Gateway …

beatrizesmer

Writing is like a gateway drug, a portal to a world of life-altering passion. With every word we pen, we feel the rush of emotion coursing through our veins. We become addicted to the feeling, the rush of adrenaline that comes with putting pen to paper. As we write, we explore the deepest corners of our souls, excavating the rawest emotions and laying them bare for the world to see. We become intoxicated with the power of words, the way they can evoke feelings of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. And then, we have to have it. We become … Continue reading Gateway …

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The art of encounter …

beatrizesmer

Have you ever paused to ponder the paths we cross before we finally meet the ones we are meant to love or learn from? The idea of fate may not always sit well with us, but there is a certain intrigue in the notion that some people are destined to be a part of our lives. Perhaps we have brushed shoulders with them on a crowded street or shared a fleeting glance in a bustling café. Maybe we have stood beside them in a concert crowd or passed them on a winding mountain trail. These chance encounters may seem insignificant … Continue reading The art of encounter …