Pursuit of Authenticity ~ collab with Wet Bliss

No matter what
I’ll never measure up
To the changing expectations
Which accounts for my hesitation

Stung by the greed
Of your soul-draining need
For me to be your perfect ideal
On aching knees, authenticity pleads

In the toxic air we breathe
Silent tension begins to seethe
Below lowered lashes, swells of emotion
Swirl and spill begging for a buoy of devotion

My heart’s windows open wide
Releasing stagnant love of thine
Followed by my determined feet
A kindred soul my own does seek


~ Wet Bliss and Poet Girl Em (in italics)


Thanks to Wet Bliss again for the collaborations! Really good for the brain to work with others now and then to keep stretching ourselves. Please visit her page for her tantalizing work!





Summer ~ The Strix

Ah, summer. Lovely, summer. Here’s the next collab from the Strix. Mine…well, leave it to me to find something dark in summer. 🙂 Hope you enjoy all the artists who contributed! Give their pages a visit if you get the chance. If you want to contribute on a topic sometime, let us know. Always happy to see new faces.

~ Em


This time the topic was chosen by John and I thought ‘Summer? Spring hasn’t even really started yet’. Then I realized, Summer did start in parts of the world already, as it also did where John lives. The Summer season may remind you of blue skies, with the sun shining bright, bringing warmth into your life again. However, if you’re in pain (mentally, physically, emotionally, financially) the sun might not make you feel better.

This month we’ve got requests from two great artists to create for a collaboration. We love to have others joining us and are sure, you will appreciate the entries of both S Francis and Janki, as much as we do.

We hope this collaboration gives you food for thought and also helps you to remind: there are more people in the world who might go through the ‘Summer blues’. However, don’t forget either, as cliché as it may be:

“Every Cloud has a Silver Lining.”

John Milton

~ Patty W.

~ from MimosaPudica





You told me you loved me
in the ocean that day.
In the heat of our summer
our love was to stay.

Fell into your open arms
like a sail on a windless day;
you caught me, mermaid fish
fooled by staged flashy play.

Your eyes spoke contorted desire
to keep a gentle sea treasure;
a trophy proudly conquered
for your own distorted pleasure.

On your enchanting lure
sewn with words, colored;
hung with saccharin promises,
false display you glittered.

Dangling from invisible line
— you yanked,
snagged…I sputter.
— you cranked,

Hooked…I reel — in your truth.
Blinded by sun in my eyes,
its warmth mocked the cold
inside your heart’s ice.

You told me you loved me
in the ocean that day,
the end of our summer,
the start of my decay.

~ Emily C.

~ from PoetGirlEm 


Three Haiku’s


Friendship is summer,

Where chats are its cute beaches,

And trust it’s sunscreen.


Let me be summer,

And summer be what I am,

‘coz summer is best.


Grandpa and Grandma

In summer vacation teach,

Just what life taught them.

~ Janki R.

~ from LettersToLife 


Strange Weather Patterns

Scientists give them names

Ominous Names

Foreign Names

that mean little

to plain speaking folk:

it’s still hot in the summer

and cold in the winter

even in New Orleans.

Who do we blame? A stranger initiates

an unexpected debate in the bagel shop.

He crosses space dug by digital divides

to challenge the certainty of our solution.

Time won’t cool the tempers just

increase the gap into indifference.

Perhaps we blame ourselves?

We fail to recognize humanity

across the distances that divide

within the differences that hide

the common rhythm of our pulse.

If two remained would we still seethe

or would we reveal a love hidden by

failed assumptions in this experiment?

I just turn down the noise

until I can hear the cricket rub

his legs together in my mud room.

I wonder if the Earth has

decided it is time for a change

never really considering

either side of the argument.

~ S. Francis

~ from SailorPoet 



~ Sarah from ArtExpedition


Expression Crossing Continents



Topic by AlpeJohn 

Featured Image by AlpeJohn

Logo by AlpeJohn 


Watershed ~ A Duet


spied you staged behind forest bark
watching as in flowing cloak, I dart,
light fading, you give heated chase,
let me lead you from here to away

lay me down under spring willow tree
our sun is setting, skin chill settling
moss soft ‘neath these bared breasts
offering you my secret watershed

scratches from bramble and briar thorn
crown of holly and oak leaf
musky scent of earth and skin
dusk light filtered through branch and limb

breath comes in rolling waves
a nocturnal awakening of the wood
cooling and receding from the hours of the day
flesh warm and welcome joined with sounds of the night 

growing deep inside my lush fertile glen
heart patters like ritual drumming pagans
raptured voice escapes moaning throat
fists grip grass as crescent moon rose

overhead, the glow of a pale moonbow
time herself pausing in reverence now
hands tell stories in trace of shadows
along rolling terrain of beating chest

arboreal cathedral of oaken rafters

open to the heavens
upon this hallowed ground
this ritual reaches its fevered pitch

like thunderclap on the edge of a storm
desire explodes into a moonlight chorus
the essence of life runs down beneath
to soak into the green earth and become dreams


~ Emily C. & Eric from My Sword and Shield



Thank you to Eric for joining me in this collaboration. A true gentleman and an excellent poet. If you haven’t found his page yet, please pay him a visit and see for yourself, he weaves beautiful stories that tug at the heart. Be prepared to swoon. 🙂

Authentic ~ The Strix

The next topic for collaboration by The Strix is “Authentic.” Lots of ways to go with this one, as you will see below.  Enjoy the mix.



~ The Only You ~

Give me your bold truth

show me your whole face

reveal me your entire heart

peel back your camouflaged layers

tell me your past, your past’s past

feed me your version of facts

open up your naked soul raw

read me no narratives false

underneath the molded mask

lifetimes of crevices and cracks

tears left miles of salty marks

but so did smiles with their spark

creased by giggles, laced with love

every line I kiss, every line adored

authentically you

the only


I want

~ Emily C.

~ from PoetGirlEm


~ Das eigene Haus – Your Own Home; street photography Berlin, 2016 ~ 

The meaning of art is slightly different in art than for instance what it means in philosophy. Everything I do is authentic, because it was me who did it. Therefore, all I create is authentic. The photograph I choose for this topic reflects what is, to me, authentic in society nowadays.

I took this photo last summer and it has disturbed me ever since. It shows an impromptu homeless camp under a bridge. The thing is, as sad as it is, that´s not what disturbed me. What did, was the poster that had been recently been added to the wall, although this is a well-known place for the homeless since it´s in good area in the city and thus a bit safer than others. 

The poster titles: “Das eigene Haus” – “Your own Home” – an advertisement for an exhibition about housebuilding. I´m still speechless at the thoughtlessness that made those men put it up there… That´s how society is nowadays: the poor and the rich side by side, with the latter mocking the former. That´s what is authentic in society in my mind…

~ Sarah

~ from Art Expedition


~ False Or Copy ~

“False or copied?”


“Fake or floppy?”


“Genuine and real?”


“Came from the original seal?”


Authentic antique, my soul is,

Supported by unquestionable evidence,

That is how it goes, that is how it is,

The soul does not lie, it is full of elegance.

I…….it represents its own nature,

A belief that can only be comprehended by me.

To show virtue is to see a little feature

Of what is like to be me.

So you continue asking:

“False or copied, floppy or fake?”

And all I say is “NO, NO and NO” till you see me in my casket.

I almost break,

Just to be like everyone else, but now…….now I just remember the ache.

So I say “Yes to genuine,

Yes to real and yes to my authenticity”

That’s the sign for me to shine,

Indeed, complexity full of simplicity.

~ M. O.

~ from EmotionsOfLife


In a world, in which even leaders are turning to manufactured evidence and try to sell that to us for the truth and/or try to convince us the truth is fake, I really feel we should address the importance of authenticity.

Why is it, we feel we can’t be ourselves any longer; we became scared to be authentic?

The color of your skin, your gender, your sexual preference, being rich or poor should not hold you back in being you. Whatever may have happened to you in the past, or has been inflicted upon you; don’t let it hold you back either, to pursue your dreams. Don’t let anyone convince you, you are unworthy: we ALL matter.

The journey you take usually is more important than the goal you try to achieve, however sometimes the goal itself outshines the path we walk on.

Please, don’t turn away from news-stories, because you are sick of hearing the painful truth about what is happening in our world. It is your world too. Maybe you think what happens for instance in the USA or in Africa doesn’t affect you directly: think again. The world just seems big, it really isn’t.

Reach out to, stand tall together with, support, fight in a non-violent way with, your neighbor at this earth. Listen to each other’s stories, help when asked for, so we all can feel whole again.

As soon as we stop being authentic, stop telling and sharing our real stories and true feelings, authenticity will be lost in shallowness.

~ Patty W.

~ from Mimosa Pudica



Expressions Crossing Continents



Topic by Patty
Featured Image by Sarah
Logo by AlpeJohn 


Silence ~ The Strix

Please enjoy the latest submission from The Strix collaborating on the topic “Silence.”

~ Em


Happy to present you another collaboration we created and this time the topic was Zigyasa’s choice: very excited our art-sister could rejoin us. Sarah stepped in for John again, thanks dear! and last but definitely not least: the lovely Jyotee, our guest-artist at this collab.

In the Netherlands we have a quote “Spreken is zilver, zwijgen is goud”, translated it is: “Speaking is silver, silence is golden”. Yes, there are times you should think twice before you speak and the way you talk to someone, is also something to think about. However,

I strongly believe – and I am certain The Strix does too – your voices are worthy to be heard!

One of the best ways to speak up, to communicate, to connect is via art: Poetry, Music, Stories, Thoughts, Paints, Sketches, et cetera.

Enjoy the voices of The Strix through our art…

~ Patty W.


~ from Mimosa Pudica


Shades of nothing

roll across waves of space

in darkness tempted

by stars’ growing grace

In silence, implosions

the quiet destruction

to begin anew in black

history writing, written

In the vacuum, eyes hear

in bright yellow sparks

fire roars in retinas

not one sound stirred

Save the sound of the soul…

it squirms, the speed of light

dances in silence

…in silence, free

~ Emily C.


~ from PoetGirlEm



How do thine eyes weave numerous rhymes

Thine silence plus-es many worlds and words

Soulful and soothing like those wind chimes

Few blossom like springs others cut like swords

Me admit mine clue-less flaws and cowardice

You are a walking poetry, I am no poet

could thee not feel me and mine silent cries

You are the sea, I am a ship, sink and float

Noise-less me word-less thee and souls weep

Because you are not just the air I breath

Smiles of thine ignites shrine, more I creep

You are me, mine, besides and beneath

Dear mine, Let the silences burst into noises

Expectations will die, And love blooms like roses !!!

—-“A Shakespearian sonnet”—

~ Jyotee


~ from LifeIsAllAboutPain



Their legs hung over the edge of the cliff, teasing each other, giggling and throwing back their heads in laughter, the air cleansing their souls, and the echoes ringing in their ears, it was all so pure.

The birds were about to fly back to their nests, the air had become cooler, and the clouds were darkening, it was a beautiful dense blush in the skies. The sun had gone behind their backs, as it travelled to the other side of the globe, slowing time where they sat. They were quiet now. Their laughter still suspended in the air, a happy dusk, a metaphor poets would hardly use. But that was the magic of this moment. Looking out to the valley spread right below their legs, the wholeness and greatness of the expanse and depth of the mountains and valleys, the greens washed over with hues of the copper light from above, just described the emotions running through them.


Pure happiness.

Even now, when they were quiet, thinking of what they had said, the moments they had just shared, and how it all had come easily to them. How speaking did not matter now. How the silence talked between them. How it meant all that words could never explain. How it expressed feelings and connections no bond could meet. A sudden still in the fast-moving life, it was a break from all the stupid little things we bothered about. Their voices had slept, deep in their throats, and the ears could listen to this moment speaking to them. Urging them to stay where they were. And they stayed. Deep inside their hearts, they made a place for this silence, to live inside them forever. They ate up as much of this feeling as they could. They stored this silence inside them, so that they could seek for it when things were not right. They were happy, close, and overwhelmed. They were together. The silence bound them in a way words never could.

He looked up, eyes focused on her beautiful face. She smiled, feeling his eyes on her. When she looked at him her eyes were bright and soothing and wanting to drown in his deep ones. They smiled, and looked away again, at the life around them, at everything that moved around them. The clouds clearing away from the sky, the last bird flying high above their head, the little bees buzzing toward their combs, cutting faint lines in the quiet air, little animals running deep into their burrows and seeking slumber. The whole world seemed to be peacefully asleep, and yet they were here, with each other.


The moment never ended.

The bond never broke.

The understanding wordlessness remained between them.



~ Kashaf S.






My heart ached

As my eyes bled

Pain in my soul

Remain trapped

I stayed calm

My tears creamed hard

Melted all my sorrow

Traveling their way

From my cheeks to my toes


Are you too another ME?

Are you too gulping your own blood

For they silenced US

When we had words to speak

Sometimes I wonder

Why did they silence

you and me…



~Zigyasa K.


From MySestina



Expressions Crossing Continents Expression Crossing Continents






Topic by Zigyasa


Featured Image by Sarah

Logo by AlpeJohn 

Derailed ~ A Duet (Explicit)


The dark night seeps; through glassy pores
A dim light flickers; the only spark
Illuminating; one single soul
riding an empty carriage; an empty train.
The doors open wide; she flies in.
He smiles, she pants; as train departs,
she wrings her wet hair; catching his smile.
That next distant stop; not for a while.

She sits, slick with a slide on the red rawhide,
facing him, peeling off her soaked layers.
He cannot help but observe her demeanor,
the way she moves, her graceful grooves,
curves kissed by raindrops slipping slowly.
His tongue instinctively licks his lips in response,
his heart pounds as he thinks lustful thoughts.
She catches him mid-stare…and doesn’t let go.

“Wet outside?” His smile tells the tale
“Saturating.” As she flicks her long, dark hair behind.
The nape of her neck now exposed, wet.
Her legs spreading, ever so curiously.
His eyes transfixed in her motions,
“Where you headed?” She enquires,
knowing full well, the answer laid bare

Core temperature escalates, moisture now steams
off her skin’s seams, evaporating pheromones
wafting his way…he inhales deeply, standing up
marking her in humid heat; her eyes scan his tense length
adjusting just so, luring him back into corner window.
“One-way ticket?” She asks. “Two-way, non-stop.” He says,
leaning in…drawing her head to his in passion’s plea,
lips on lips pursued like a lightning strike decree.

Cold-pressed now against the pane, her juicy lips
now inflamed, pores precipitating in heated beads,
cold rain of past, transmuting sweat it thrives.
His hands draw her in, that soft, sweet flesh,
the small of back, the jaw, the neck,
felt and held, such rapturous delight.
Flickering in passing speed, the train shudders,
she bites his lip, blood trickles a smile; more.

Lips locked, wet hand slides down to cock hidden.
She unzips and draws out what her body now wants,
his hot breath breathes on her chest, he leans against
the warm flesh that welcomes him in, the train lunges
he plunges deep in, as the lights flitter out like fireflies;
darkness one moment, only bodies felt as skin melts…
light the next, for a brief glimpse of predatory eyes’ glint.

Clack of tracks, unmitigated moans, pure percussive lust.

In now blackened journey, of racing train,
a carriage shifts in violent throws, vibrations pulse.
He grasps her ass, pussy lips in lock around his cock,
thrusting further in, her heat-drenched canal.
A bend in track throws them down to red rawhide,
no grounding halt, for these two entwined.
Slippery, wet-bound, lustful bliss; wicked plans unfold:
His train, her tunnel, this night, destination found.

Rhythmic rumble down the line, tunnel headlight shines
like her eyes in the dark, a hint of her secret spark
caught fire down below, she bellows and moans.
At the height of ecstasy, her shuddering glee,
one blissful moment she swells around with a squeeze,
throws her head back, her walls around him erect
ready to take his eager essence as her liqueur tonight,

a digestif of highest order, her appetite whet with delight.

Her screams bursts clear, like a steam train of old
as he blasts wood to fire, load after load.
His desire boils her within, fuel to her billowing stove.
Eyes locked in knowing, both in tighter embrace,
a total furore on rails, a climatic kiss claims.
“Last Stop” announced; Oh the delicious bittersweet!
On these iron tracks traveling, they came as one,
with suggestive derailment, of nights other plans.

That red rawhide slick with sex, their sweat drips.
His tongue traces down to where they connected,
like two train cars perfectly set, locked, matched…
sucking off the salty sweet remnants of her love.
With a lurch, the locomotive pulls into the station,
she licks him clean, leads him onto the platform.
“Room 15?” she says, hotel key slipped to his palm,

“Two return tickets please,” he tells the window.

….“All Aboooard!”

~ Mark from MTmind & Em from PoetGirlEm


Had a fun time working on this collab with Mark from MTmind.  Little did he know when he sent me the first stanza that I have a thing for trains. Extra bonus!

Do check out his page, he writes some beautiful, tantalizing, poignant art!  And he’s straight up just an awesome Aussie guy. You won’t be disappointed. Thanks, Mark! I look forward to more in the future.



Trust ~ The Strix

Here is the next installment from The Strix. Please enjoy and visit these talented artists.  You can find my entry the second one down.


Something not bought,
But hard-earned.
Something not asked,
But freely given.

It is a gift,
Given when a stranger
Becomes a friend.
Free, but precious,

Please take care,
Of this fragile thing.
For it’s impossible to fix,
Once broken.

~ AlpeJohn




on the ledge
far jump
her faith, wobbly
her heart, numb
adrenaline flows
lifetime of woes
all have left her
no one to know
she built her own
strength, fight
comeback girl
wants to fly
just not sure
how to land
feather in hand
it floats
down to ground
distance darkened
by black matter pain
there was only
her light
she leapt
great heights
no one to catch her
just her own
two feet

~ Emily

~ from PoetGirlEm



When your world is burnt to ash,
When you are hit more than you can take,
When it’s a struggle to breathe,
When you are dying alive,
And you are one step away from eternal failure,

Remember, not all hope its lost,
For even ashes build up ruined cities,
You are but one man!
Trust yourself little phoenix,
For I’d trust you can
You shall spread your wings and rise above all
Leaving your past, a mere shadow,
For all you you can try….
Just trust yourself!

~ Kushal Gorti

~ from A Misled Writer


The weakest bonds,
The pain of the past, the fears,
Break the strongest ties,
The hesitation, the shaken belief,
A broken heart, the tired emotions,
The screaming head, the bursting tears,
The dreams, washed over with lies,
Is it too good to be true, doubts and frustration ,
A restless soul, never finding relief.
A life walking hand in hand with another,
Was now stranded, cold and empty,
But it continued with memories of firsts,
All alone, further on its journey,
Looking for pieces of its broken trust.

~ Kashaf S.



Trust each other, not a simple task
These days maybe too much to ask
How can we trust another human being
If misery is all we are seeing

Trusting yourself, your gut feeling
In our world that needs healing
Requires to take down your mask
To release vulnerability out of your flask

The ghost of the bottle we can be ourselves
If we sweep hatred from the shelves
Restoring hope and love is a must
We should
We need
To trust

~ Patty Wolters




Expressions Crossing Continents

Expression Crossing Continents



Featured Image and logo by AlpeJohn