Tag: writing

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There are things we come back to …

beatrizesmer

There are threads that pull us back, anchors that tether our souls to the moments that resonate with the deepest parts of our being. There are people who etch themselves into the very fabric of our existence, weaving themselves into the tapestry of our hearts, leaving an indelible mark that time cannot erase. There are places that beckon us, whispering secrets of nostalgia and familiarity, where the air hums with the melody of memories and the sighs of belonging. These are the places that sing and sigh, where every corner holds a story and every cobblestone whispers of bygone days. … Continue reading There are things we come back to …

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It was on my thighs he would find summer even in crippling winter

beatrizesmer

In the depths of winter’s embrace, he sought solace in the warmth of her thighs, finding a haven of summer amidst the icy grip of the season. There, nestled against her skin, he discovered a sanctuary where the chill of the world could not reach. Her thighs became a canvas of comfort, a place where the frost of life melted away, replaced by the gentle caress of sunlight and the whisper of a warm breeze. In the curve of her flesh, he found respite from the harshness of the world, a refuge where he could find renewal and rejuvenation. In … Continue reading It was on my thighs he would find summer even in crippling winter

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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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Love devoured all of me …

beatrizesmer

Love devoured my state and my city, consuming all in its path. It drained the swamps of stagnant water, abolishing the tides. It feasted on the curly mangroves and stiff leaves, consuming the vibrant green of sugarcane plants that adorned the rolling hills. It sliced through the red barriers, the little black train, and the chimneys. Love devoured the scent of cut cane and the tang of salt air. It devoured those things that I longed to know, but never captured in verse. Love devoured every day not advertised in leaflets. It devoured the minutes ticking away on my watch, … Continue reading Love devoured all of me …

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Pay attention to the little things

beatrizesmer

In the delicate dance of life, it’s the subtle nuances that whisper the truth. The heavy sighs that linger in the air, the awkward silences that speak volumes, the hesitant words that falter on the tongue – they are the silent messengers, bearing secrets untold. Pay heed to the little things, for they are the breadcrumbs that lead to the heart’s hidden chambers. The weight of a sigh, the weight of a heavy heart; the awkward silence, a reflection of unspoken turmoil; the hesitant speech, a veil for unspoken fears. In the quiet spaces between words, in the pregnant pauses, … Continue reading Pay attention to the little things

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Forgive me

beatrizesmer

Forgive me, for I failed to heed your gentle call, In the silence, I feared abandonment’s cruel thrall. I longed for thunderous proclamations, a resounding decree, a clear bell tolling, a call that would set me free. In my anguish, I raged and wept, lost in the void, the deafening silence, my senses left destroyed. Why did you not make your presence known to me? I strained to hear, yet your whisper eluded my plea. In my arrogance, I overlooked your subtle grace, blinded by my yearning for a louder, bolder embrace. But the silence was not void, not a … Continue reading Forgive me

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I cannot emphasize …

beatrizesmer

I cannot emphasize this enough. It’s about being actively and passionately engaged in everything you do. Life is not meant to be a passive spectator sport, but a grand stage where every moment is an opportunity to pour your heart and soul into the unfolding drama. If not passionately and with all that you have to give, why do it at all? Sure, there are moments that may seem mundane, tasks that are less than thrilling, and challenges that test our patience. But even in these moments, there is an opportunity to infuse them with the essence of our being. … Continue reading I cannot emphasize …

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How do you become a poem?

beatrizesmer

To become a poem, you must first shed the weight of the past, burn bridges as you cross them, and find the courage to step into the unknown. Instead of drowning in the depths of regret, you learn to swim, to navigate the currents of life with grace and resilience. With each stroke, you carve your path through the waters of experience, shaping your journey into verses that resonate with the essence of love. You become a symphony of words; a tapestry of emotions woven from the threads of your heart. To become a poem, you must embrace the flames … Continue reading How do you become a poem?

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Happy 2024!

beatrizesmer

May every dawn be a sacred moment, a chance to bow in humble gratitude for the abundance that surrounds me. For the shelter that enfolds me, the warmth of family, the vitality of a healthy body, and the flawed beauty of my mind. For the treasures of my talents, and the simple sustenance of a nourishing meal. May I never forget the richness of these blessings and may my heart overflow with thankfulness at the break of each new day. And as the night descends, may I seek out a glimmer of light, a breath of tranquility, and a wellspring … Continue reading Happy 2024!

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Time, my cordial friend

beatrizesmer

Time, that relentless traveler, passes without discrimination, touching the lives of all in its wake. Yet, maturity, that elusive companion, selects its confidants with discerning care. Maturity, a maiden adorned with the marks of time, wears her wrinkles proudly, a testament to the journeys she has undertaken. Her eyes, wearied by the weight of experience, gaze upon the world with a wisdom born of countless seasons. Clad in unassuming attire, she carries herself with a quiet grace, her uncolored clothes a reflection of her understated elegance. Beneath her weathered exterior, beats a heart that refuses to yield to the ceaseless … Continue reading Time, my cordial friend