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Journal

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"Although I'm familiar with the art of poetry, no one has inspired my muse to inscribe my own journal. - so I placed my soul in her hands." Silent One I used to be a journal, daily dips of ink dripped deep into my dilapidated soul. Supporting sorrows of the one who wrote with endeavour, 'letting go,' of the blackness, infested within her veins. Endless chapters of vents, tears, fears and misery, bleeding from ruptured arteries, etched upon the fresh fibres of a canvas of compassion. In times of fantasy, I was a field full of her supressed wildflowers. In reality, I was her diary of deep, destructive desires. Now her pen rests, with a sharp nib pointing at me. Like a shield, preventing her ink to reveal the truths behind metaphors. I'm an anthology of her emotions, wondering how the next chapter will be written - is there more to confess? But in her mute melancholy, I can think of reasons to express, but many more to remain inkless. Yet no other 'ink-toxication' can fill this void - I'LL FOREVER REMAIN WORTHLESS as what purpose do I have without her words perpetually nourishing my empathic existence. In this slumber, I collect dust, feeling bare, but in her rejection - hungering for her verses to soothe.

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Jennifer Proxenos

Date: 11/12/2024 11:00:00 PM

Hi my friend you seem so sad and your journal explains it all to us. Your intricate yet explicit wording of sections in your journal, are heartbreaking. A magnificent write. ' I can think of reasons to express, but many more to remain inkless' This so worthwhile journal, can and one day should be woven revealing joyously that her sharp nibbed pen is no longer pointed at you, and that your fantasy of fields of suppressed wildflowers becomes a reality. Hope my interpretation makes sense. I am a hopeless romantic. PLEASE SOUPMAIL. Blessings, Jennifer

Sam Kauffman

Date: 10/28/2024 11:34:00 AM

SO, no one "inks" poetic artistry like you with your utterly unique voice! You have expressed the "ink'toxication" of love and pain so wonderfully. Love the way your central image of writing flows so effortlessly through your images and phrases. Thank you for sharing your heart. Sending you blessings and a lifetime supply of poetic ink!

Charlotte Puddifoot

Date: 10/23/2024 2:39:00 PM

this has the feeling of painful, lived experience behind it, interesting, i particularly like the wildflowers line...thanks for reading and commenting on my work

Daniel Henry Rodgers

Date: 10/22/2024 5:23:00 AM

Dear SO, Oh, that magical journal that absorbed all your thoughts and emotions. I imagine that it was quite cathartic to write the journal and to write your well-inked poem. I wish I had journaled more, but I have written many poems over the past 55 years. My favorite lines were the ending lines: "In this slumber, I collect dust, feeling bare, but in her rejection - hungering for her verses to soothe." Autumn Blessings, My Dear Friend, Daniel

Eileen Manassian

Date: 10/21/2024 2:15:00 PM

This is dipped with emotion. "Ink-toxication".... brilliant. Such pain in these lines. Is there more to confess? Only time will tell. Great write. Truly moving

Maria Williams

Date: 10/21/2024 5:08:00 AM

Dear S1 your poem is truly haunting and beautifully reflective, it evokes such a deep sense of longing and melancholy, as if the journal itself has become a vessel of unspoken emotions. Your voice adds a lot of depth to your words. The imagery of ink, bleeding veins, and suppressed wildflowers paints a vivid picture of someone grappling with their inner darkness, while the journal holds both the pain and the desire for release. Am I right in assuming and deciphering the meaning to your poem?...Hugs

Victor Buhagiar

Date: 10/21/2024 2:29:00 AM

You are a true poet. Your emotions are so well expounded, and truly, you write from the heart.

Paige Hind

Date: 10/20/2024 9:38:00 PM

This is really sad. I'm sorry that you feel like this- you wrote real and raw words.

Valsa George

Date: 10/20/2024 9:23:00 PM

"Yet no other 'ink-toxication' can fill this void -" There can be no void that cannot be filled in time if we really will. "I'LL FOREVER REMAIN WORTHLESS' ! Rise out of this self rejection. "I was a field full of her supressed wildflowers." nay, you are a field of fragrant flowers.... roses and jasmines. The smell we get even from far. It was so nice hearing you recite your poem.

Brandy Nicole

Date: 10/20/2024 5:06:00 PM

So many times we think that: ' no other ink-intoxication can fill this void. ' When in fact, there's so many blessings surrounding us, we cannot them all. Your thoughts are deep and powerful, Silent One. My best to you. Always ! Hugs, Brandy

Joe Dimino

Date: 10/20/2024 3:32:00 PM

Hauntingly melancholy. One can feel completely full...when having the love desired to share the void of an otherwise meaningless existence. Without love, nothing has proportion, taste or color. A bland eternity of overcooked and spice-less hell. "is there more to confess? But in her mute melancholy, I can think of reasons to express, but many more to remain inkless." -- Love that!

David Crandall

Date: 10/20/2024 3:19:00 PM

Fascinating poem, silent one, personifying a journal with its own existence, being so dependent on the writer.

Kim Rodrigues

Date: 10/20/2024 2:21:00 PM

ink-toxication… In times of fantasy, I was a field full of her supressed wildflowers…every part of the body feels the angst, even the soul. Love that the title is “Journal.” Emotive, dear one

Ink Empress

Date: 10/20/2024 10:31:00 AM

Dear Silent One, this a very deeply emotive poem that really hits strong. I hope you do know that you are not worthless though, they say when one door closes , we find many more that would lead us to where we actually deserve to be. Very powerful quote and its good that you are letting soupers hear you read as you do that very well. I love the concept of journal, if i were to write on similar theme ill probably name it “ jinxed journal” perfect! Everything in life is as such! I think but thats

Silent One
Date: 10/20/2024 12:54:00 PM

Thank you for your kind comment.. It is not fictional.. It is real... I dont think there is such a thing as jinxed journal.. I think we create out own mess and we also bring ourselves out of it also..

Ink Empress
Date: 10/20/2024 10:34:00 AM

What inspires us poets to write, and youve done that very well! Its impressive how seamless your alliterations are in this, smooth flowing! And I especially love the lines “ I was a field full of her supressed wildflowers. “ and i loved “ But in her mute melancholy, I can think of reasons to express, but many more to remain inkless.” this must be fiction? But well, you write in a way that sounds so real! And i think your readers might be also in awe speechless! Pleasure reading you always! Thank you for sharing! Sending you light always

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 10/20/2024 9:42:00 AM

wow, such a deep and moving verse. With the music and your voice, it makes it even more special. Well done. A fave. And I enjoyed hearing your voice

Silent One
Date: 10/20/2024 12:55:00 PM

A fave from Andrea??? That must be a first for me lol.. Honoured.. Thank you so much..

Duke Beaufort

Date: 10/20/2024 9:03:00 AM

SO, this poem describes a sad situation indeed. Empathetic existence in isolation creates a lot of vulnerability, which you have expressed with passion. We do hand over a lot of power to people we love and have fondness for, and have to be careful to keep our own existence and self-esteem. Not easy for some of us. It's a very difficult balancing act for sensitive souls. I think many of us (myself included) have felt this way. It can take a lot of work to rectify, but is worth the effort. Smiles.

Anitha Jayasankar

Date: 10/20/2024 8:24:00 AM

Good to hear you read this wonderful verse, dear S1. "Daily dips of ink dripped deep into my dilapidated soul"... such an excellent write as always from a blessed poet. Is it for any contest? If so, best wishes. God bless. ~ Ani

The Aura Rhymes

Date: 10/20/2024 4:34:00 AM

It’s nice to hear you read after a long time . Beautiful