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!

 

 

 

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Corner Spot

In my corner spot, one stool, one table
two eyes behind glass, peer
book in hand a topic most grand
butter blended history on a palate
of mind, taste through recorded time

Alone in the cafe of my thoughts
a plate of one doughy croissant
a tea for one exotically done
crossing legs, curling into pages
forgetting I’m not the only one

Eyes lift briefly, peeking just above
pages cracked, make eye contact
with a him across coffee-scented air
for a moment in yellow light, we idly stare
but was it me, or was it the picture

On the front cover of the book Butter
— it is pretty tantalizing after all…
I am merely a face in the background
or does he see me as I see him
— a curiosity in creamy-smooth skin?

 

 

~Emily C.

***

The talented S. Francis of Sailorpoet was inspired by a couple poems I wrote with a cafe setting a while back and wanted to collaborate a bit on the topic of strangers in cafes through some response writing.

His poem, which is what my poem above responds to, can be found here.  While each can be read stand-alone, they do kind of complete each other.

WP is like a giant cafe sometimes, strangers glancing across the void, pondering each other, knowing only what we can know through what we are presented. There is so much behind the scenes, am I right? 🙂

 

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

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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

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Lure

 

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 

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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 

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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 

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~ Sarah from ArtExpedition

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Watershed ~ A Duet

ee90edf0a51c4d64f263d6261b239735

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. 🙂

Nurture ~ The Strix

NurturebyJohn

Art by: ApleJohn at JuanderingArtist  (I LOVE this art he created for this post!)


I chose the topic “nurture” for this next collaboration from the Strix. This time, I kept my interpretation short and sweet with a haiku. My fellow contributors again bring their lovely words. Do check them out when you have the time. 🙂

~Em

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Unfortunately, Zigyasa and Kashaf weren’t able to join this time at our collaboration for Nurture, a wonderful topic chosen by Emily. Grateful and happy Manuel was able to step in at the last minute and also excited and honored Jonathan accepted our invitation to create a piece of art for The Strix.

We hope you will enjoy these pieces of art, as much as we feel during the creation process.

~ Patty

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Nurture ~ Haiku

your tender hands touch

love breaks walls, defense crumbles

my heart’s scars soften

~ Emily C.

~ from PoetGirlEm

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Nurture

How bleak and empty looks the future

Without your tender, loving nurture

That you pour out upon me so freely

Like mother with bade in her fine arms

Keeping it soundly safe from all harms

Such that I cannot fail to be thankful

And in your loving presence gleeful

For the compassion you give liberally

And in your nurture my nature is full

To be what I was always meant to be

Yes . . .

How bleak and empty looks the future

Without your tender, loving nurture

~ Jonathan N.

~ from NobleThemes

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Nurture

To feed and protect,
No neglect.
Beyond nurturing one’s offspring,
Completely unstring.

Encourage and support,
Visions distort?
During and after our development,
No evidence of detriment.

Bring up, train and even educate;
Taught to be immune to hate.
Above and below nourishment,
Positivity, flourishing.

Breeding, upbringing;
Are your ears ringing?
Not yet?!!!
Let us try again; Play the cassette!!!

~ M. O.

~ from EmotionsOfLife

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Nurture ~ Mirrored Elfje

Feed
The earth
Flora and Fauna
All beautiful species within
NURTURE
All negativity with love
Filter and absorb
The rain
Sprinkle

~ Patty W.

~ from Mimosa Pudica

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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.

~Em

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~ 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

you

I want

~ Emily C.

~ from PoetGirlEm

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~ 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

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~ False Or Copy ~

“False or copied?”

NO!!!

“Fake or floppy?”

NO!!!

“Genuine and real?”

YES!!!

“Came from the original seal?”

YES!!!


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

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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

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Silence ~ The Strix

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

~ Em

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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

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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

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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

 

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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.

Forever.

 

~ Kashaf S.

 

~ from AWORDWARRIORSBLOG

 

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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

YOU

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

 

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