I woke up a wilted rose
My petals were crushed
a thousand tempests
My thorns turned inwards
striking my stem
Worms crawled all over me
Yet
my roots were intact
– by Angelina Bong
Malaysia
Tag: hope (Page 1 of 3)
Too young to understand,
Too scared to stay
- by RachDoesDesign
Wales
[The image features a form with chaotic hair spanning the entirety of the piece, lines and dots show the chaos of the mind]
Hello pain let’s dance!
Hello pain let’s dance together
and cry a melody
Just you and me forever
which dance is it to be?
A boogie or a waltz
a tango or some jiving?
Whatever the rhythm
It’s time to do some living
The violinist’s bow
hews across its strings
The drummer’s sticks do beat
upon his drum
sweet notes emanate
a squeezing heartache
Across the room
A trumpet sighs do come
She moves her body slow
To the echo of the bow
The rhythm of the beat
Won’t knock her down
Her back she keeps it straight
And feet they will not wait
But trip along and step
The bright life into town
She feels a country breeze
That puts her at her ease
Her spirits rise until they fly away
Birdsong in the trees
Falling from their leaves
And butterflies are coming out to play.
- by Wendy Jones
Wales
More information: https://poetryatnightblog.wordpress.com/
hey Leah ive been worried about you. theres this site i want you to see, ive been putting poems on there about chronic pain. you dont have to do this alone.
- by socks
England
My grandma had 7300 sleepless nights
Until a Shanghai doctor said
‘You have restless legs’
Pills prescribed
Leaflet read,
Pramipexole Hydrochloride
The 1st good night’s sleep
In the 7301 nights.
- by Xie Licheng
UK
Pain is a pre-requisite to Creation. Take for example the process of bringing forth life. Albeit it is a painful process, nevertheless, it is also a glorious creation. History stands testimony to the fact that all the great ones who ever walked the Earth have
risen to great heights walking through the aisle of pain. “Love till it hurts” is the beautiful message bequeathed to us by Mother Teresa. I consider myself fortunate to have known a few “chosen” ones who have borne the cross of their lives with a brave heart.
Their lives have made me understand the significance of the maxim of “Grace Under Pressure “. Living in the proximity of pain, at this watershed moment of my life, I endeavour to explore the uncharted realm of Metaphysics and as I inch towards it silently,
I experience the power of the Void in my own quaint way.
- by Suchitra Awasthi
UK/India
she is in the sauna drinking coke and eating salted peanuts
one knee resting against the hot wood, silvery hair damp and sticking to her shoulders
we discuss midwifery and the what it’s like to catch a slippery baby
in your palms
she is standing in seal skin coat with white fur collar beside the church
mid afternoon sun coming through jewel red of stain glass window
holding a cigarette to her lips exhaling smoke and warm breath
casual flick of ash hitting the ice
i can’t say what it is about these chance encounters that reel me in
give me something to latch onto
but mystery in itself can be a sustainer for the curious
there is no such thing as “meant to be”
things are just happening – miraculous, mundane things –
and why do we need more than that?
all is as it is as it is, amen
- by Nicole Schafenacker
WordPress: https://nicoleschafenacker.wordpress.com/
Canada
Where does it even start?
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
How can I tell each apart?
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
Where does it even end?
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
Why isn’t my body my friend?
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
- by @RoseClue (twitter, instagram), @ Advanced Wizards, @Watercolors (facebook)
USA
I am in the centre of nothing.
Nothing cushions me.
Nothing protects me
I am comfortable surrounded by nothing
Nothing is nice and kind and gentle.
I am nobody in nothing
I am special in nothing
Nothing matters in nothing
Nothing is everything
I am nothing
Nothing touches me
I touch nothing
Nothing moves me
I move nothing
Nothing loves me
I love nothing
Nothing is good
Nothing is great
Nothing is better than me
- by Una Sombra
UK
A rookery, long abandoned now,
had been built inside my body.
I don’t know where the birds went
or why, one day, they uninhabited,
leaving only their barbed-wire
residues, strung across the boughs
of my hips; all sticks and spit,
all hollows meant for holding
something small, still desperately
alive. I’m sorry – I’m afraid
I know only my own dark canopy,
its filtering bones of light.
- by Roseanne Watt
UK
