Phases of the Tide

Loved this. Check out some beautiful poetry

A Writer's Soul

Billows of you left in the aftermath of the tidal wave,
The one that crept up on me,
Though it was so, so obvious,
(You were never silent, colliding into me with such force I fell deeper into the twist and tides of you)
How could I not notice the current that would drag me under,
The salt blinding me, the brine running through my lungs,
The wave that crashed into me and dragged me under?

My eyes only gazing above at the glassy surface,
Refracted, fluxing on the illusions that danced around me,
How could someone miss that?
How could I let that deep, deep blue of your soul take me under
Those eyes that would drown me?

Your love was like the ocean tides,
Coming and going,
Changing with the face of the moon,
Never staying long enough for me to hold you in my hands.
Captured you…

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Dappled shadows

❤️ everyone should check out Yassy’s poetry. She leaves me


On soundless feet, he stalks his prey
Camouflage gives reinforcement
Environment helps him slay
Blessed with a regal endorsement
With cracking roar makes his statement.

Undisputed king of his terrain
Predator that should not be enchained
From illegal poaching abstain
Their survival major campaign
To preserve, conserve and sustain.


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🌹🖊 Your Words To Me❤️📝

Beautiful love poem. Enjoy!


We don’t need eyes to love. We need a heart. ~S.S~❤️We communicate with our hearts, as we perambulate hand and hand through time. Your love penetrates my body and soul, while your beauty and words invade my mind.

A poem is a beautiful building, each word is a brick you see? Each time you speak your poetic verses, you’re constructing a Heavenly castle for me.

Your words hypnotized me daily, but a prisoner I will never be. The love you have is constantly forming a key, that is always setting me free.

I get so weak in the knees I can hardly speak. I lose all control and something takes over me. In a daze and it’s so amazing, it’s no phase. I want you to stay with me, by my side. I swallow my pride, your love is so sweet. It knocks me right off of my…

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Kissing phantoms

Beautiful poetry. Breathtaking.



I saved an eyelash of yours

grew it from seed in a


at first the greenhouse huffed and curdled

not used to cultivating such delicate wings

till I put you beneath my mattress

soggy with tears morning dew

you see, I had become

a cocoon again

needing no more than

one drop of rain on my

sewn together eyelids

scalded from rubbing

you see, I had thrifted

the parts of me that had

touched you the most

so I did not have to be reminded

why my hands stayed trembling

on countertops or reached

at night into marjoram dark

why my lips were chaffed and sore

from kissing phantoms

better then, to return to wax

bury the hatchet

and ones history

in somnolent earth

smelling of tea bags and bird feathers

ear wigs and lady bird nail polish

your smile

caught winking through amber sun

your convex toes


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🌹🔮 Rosa 🌹💫

Holy Shit, this is an incredible piece of work!!!!


The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.♥️It started with a wink and a gorgeous smile, on the Sparkling Planet we planted a seed. And from out of its poetic soul, the most beautiful idea was conceived.🌹

It was watered by a couples romantic raindrops, and shined on daily by their love rays. Fertilized by the strongest of relationships, a flower was created that day.

But this wasn’t your garden variety flower, it was much more special than that. A plant of pure romance named Rosa, and this rose was a treat to look at.

A stem equipped with green leafs, it stood rather sturdy and stout. A thorn protruding from each side, only to let you know this rose would stick out.

Rose petals made like wings, all of them with a dark red tint. Each outlined in gold, when the…

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Love in blue and black – A collab — Despite my deepest thoughts — Short Prose

Poetry and music: a collaboration with my dear friend Ankit my love, i speak to you through centuries of pain trees are spinning barren branches in the air when loneliness rains on blue hills i crush my heart so yours can still beat listen ocean waves embrace the moon’s pale chest instead of tears i […]

via Love in blue and black – A collab — Despite my deepest thoughts — Short Prose

In Mr. Habte’s Apartment (also, see the writer’s challenge after this story)

FFP’s Writing Challenge!

Fitful, Fearful, Phantasmal

a list of the contents in the trash bin belonging to Mr. Nadir Habte:

  1. one set of sweat-soaked, piss-wetted, blood-stained bed sheets
  2. one shattered bedside lamp and light bulb
  3. seven used tissues–all drenched in mucus and tears, some speckled with blood
  4. glass shards from a broken bathroom wall mirror
  5. scraps cut from a length of medical gauze
  6. three plastic-wrapped, unopened packs of Winstons–all branded with the slogan: “Winston tastes good like a cigarette should”
  7. near-full pack of Oreo Double Stuf
  8. half-eaten bag of Jet-Puffed Jumbo Marshmallows
  9. three egg shells
  10. one apple core
  11. two used tea bags
  12. one empty bottle of Visine
  13. receipt and tags cut from new pair of Nike jogging shoes
  14. plastic seal ripped from the lid of a tube of Banana Boat Sunscreen SPF 50
  15. packaging from a set of sweatbands, (2 wrist bands and 1 headband)

a list of items on the night stand belonging to Mr…

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Rest In Peace Tripp-a-Doo


I wrote this on my Facebook, and I’m putting it everywhere. There’s so many people who loved and followed this family, and I think it’s a collective pain, though pales in comparison to what Stacey and Bill and so many parents have and are experiencing. I have followed the story of Tripp, Stacey, and Bill for years. They have been such a source if inspiration and love for me to see. I remember donating to these same charities as I was in recovery before. I’m so sad to hear of Tripp’s passing, and I don’t want to send only prayers when I can help in any small way.

I just figure anything to shed some light on dark days is worth it. I’m going to hug my kids a little tighter today.

Tripp Halstead/Team Boom Donations

Sunshine On A Ranney Day

Ride To Give

Also my local food bank: Pennridge FISH


The Severity of Mental Illness is Determined by a Box

Sue’s writing is profoundly beautiful and inspiring. I’ve missed her on my hiatus! Check her out!! ❤

My Loud Bipolar Whispers

When I was a very young child, my brain and mind were free and open to see and create beautiful visions for my life. I had a lifetime to make my dreams come true.

There was no box.

After a few years passed and the abuse began, I saw the box and visited it occasionally to protect myself from the pain caused from the outside world I knew.

This box was always visible to me, but I could still get out the box.

After I gave birth to my first child, a large box swallowed me whole, entrapping me inside. The box encompassed me, leaving no windows of hope to see through. My life and view of the world became very dark.

Eventually, I found a glimmer of hope. The light started shining in and I had hope again.

When I found hope, my window gradually increased in size until…

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