In a dark world where many fear real authenticity
and cannot handle the rawness of everyday life
there is a true light to be found in every Aquarius.
Many people tend to misjudge them as very careless
and wrongly assume they feel nothing at all or ever
but the power of their love can be quite precarious
In their glimmering eyes there is a very deep truth
that only they might be able to fully understand;
perhaps that is why they're not always so serious
But because humanity is their greatest love of all
they will work to ensure their water jar pours forth
although with the right people they are gregarious.
This poem is part of my zodiac-themed collection. "To Honor Winter's Shadows" was the first in this series. Pisces is next in this series, though I've no idea when that'll be. The poems I write honestly come of their own accord and I don't like to force my talent. Thank you for reading!
Flavor of rain, herbal.....clear
like broth lingering on your lips ,
relishing a taste of limey brew--
its vapor beguiles my senses
with undulated abandon...
For a moment time freezes
in trembled trance, the monsoon rivering
as your kiss seeps inside the bones,
and in gradual mount of liquid thrill
the concave grip kneading
into an embrace within
one evening's quiver rescues me,
Reminding me how surrender
can be subtle like the slow movement
from piety to rawness of gust,
gathering all that's aflame
and gentle... and I will wrap
your fingers around my soul
through hidden blue of eyes ,
that cleavage of spine
dressed in lavish caresses,
that nothing else will fulfill me
...but the nectar of our misted dew.
you bring me comfort
in your chaos.
with every rumble,
with every crash,
my heart pings with joy.
I feel your rawness my blood rushes faster
then my veins can hold.
I become an adrenaline junkie,
jolted with excitement
alive.
Every strike you send
a message
a sudden transformation forms.
I am one with you,
I feel your power,
hold your energy.
you've set me on a new course
while bringing inner peace
To feel
rawness of bark
against my pale cheekbone
my thoughts on its long endured life
happy
standing
through thick and thin
constant watch over woods
keeping everything on point
beacon
Fearful of going deep inside
Eremophobia could be there
Abandonment might rest in a rut
Rawness still abides in tender places
I had few dates (5) before leaving for college.
- thanks again covid -
so my experience was practically irrelevant.
When it came to love I knew nothing.
I was an unseasoned chicken.
In an argument, I had no social currency,
no litany of my love’s starry predecessors to hype.
In a crunch, I can’t always articulate feelings I’m struggling with -
we’re not all song writers or poets.
What I have is my own brand of cringe rawness -
but breakthrough moments require honesty - don’t they?
Ok, here it is:
You’re not a single song.
You’re a playlist, a no-skip album
that needs playing at max volume.
Your passions, talents and emotions
make the unmistakable soundtrack of you.
And I love it.
.
.
Songs for this:
Baby Steps by Olivia Dean
sunshine! by Hangsung
Genius (feat. Gush) by C2C
Killick Poetry Contest // Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Contest Judged: 9/5/2025 12:25:00 PM
( 7th Place )
Written: August 26, 2025
I never chose the burden
but life pressed stone and rope into my hands.
I lowered it into the unsettled sea,
and waited for balance to return.
The sea murmurs of leaving,
of slipping past every safe haven,
yet I stay, steady on hidden weight
gripped by the understated endurance.
Some may laugh at its rawness,
a patchwork anchor of scraps and stone
but I trust its unshaken clutch.
It does not shine,
it does not speak
yet it keeps me from dissolving.
The killick teaches me this:
strength is not perfection...
it is simply staying when all else pulls away.
And then it stopped.
The jagged edge of anxiety smoothed
by the fall in slow motion -
A tumble into a pool of tranquility.
Suddenly awakened from the angst
by the splash of a refreshing reality;
reminding me that I need to
swim in peace for a while.
The pool is deep and calming.
It soothes the rawness of disquiet
and the cruelty of dispassion which
has dominated my recent existence.
Resistance melting in the serenity of
the rippling water, I float,
perfectly at peace and calmed by
the composure of the landscape.
It has stopped ………
and I can breathe at last.
Wounds, like windows,
when opened,
let in light and the breath of something new.
But it takes courage
to unlatch what pain has sealed shut.
We board them up,
plaster the cracks,
pretend the draft isn't there—
but silence has a smell,
and you can only hold your breath for so long.
Sometimes, healing sounds like wind
whistling through what broke—
a quiet reminder
that damage doesn’t mean done,
that ruin is not the same as ending.
Air moves different through a wound,
cool against what once burned.
Dust shifts in forgotten corners.
And the light—
not blinding, but patient—
lingers,
touching the rawness
without demanding repair.
Let it.
Let the ache speak.
Let the light crawl across your ribs
and settle into the hollows
you tried so hard to erase.
Wounds, like windows,
don’t have to be beautiful
to be open.
They only have to let something in.
No thirst trap, no click bait,
I give versed expression
Silk and lace threaded thru
each line and question
Rawness felt, while images
age and yellow
Expressed words lasting, soft,
sweet, and mellow
I show my skin through
words I’ll strip
Describing it with my
crafted script
Holding you in whispered
conversation
Baring my soul for
your imagination
Bared hips, and red lips,
I write the scene
Poetically giving a
seductive theme
Filtered softness,
is an elaborate con
Ones beauty fades
as my words live on
My worth ain’t begging
on my knees
Everyone knows who I am,
rebeltease
See I carry myself
with style and grace
My tongue leaks ink,
it’s words I embrace
Spilling from my veins,
stories of emotion
Flowing like each ebb
on a quiet ocean
Vibing with words
left feeling spent
A warm calmness,
your soul is content
Seducing with the words
I’ve written
Images fade while
my words still be hittin
Sliding through one’s mind,
pictures unfold
Living forever, my words
never grow old
I stand before your door with trembling fist,
the wood worn smooth by lovers braver, whole.
Yet still, I knock-- a hesitant insist,
a hollow echo seeking its own toll.
Your heart is open wide beneath my hand,
its pulse a plea, unguarded in reply.
But fear has carved a fortress where I stand,
each stone a promise not to break or try.
You offer me the rawness of your name--
a melody too bright, too fierce to hold--
while I, encased in shadow, drown the flame,
still haunted by a love that once grew cold.
I knock, though every tap is laced with dread,
each cadence stifling what wants to rise.
My echoes bruise your chest, your breath unsaid--
I see the aching written in your eyes.
Yet chains are safe; they bind, but they protect--
or so I tell myself to mask the cost.
For every door I’ve left closed and unchecked
was never truly guarding what I’d lost.
Your heart remains, patient and bruised with weight,
while I, a coward trembling in disguise,
stand knocking, loving-- but too scared of fate,
to open wide and let our echoes rise.
Eating everything
on the menu
Dylan asked for more
His hunger
reestablished
leftovers on the floor
A bite into
the future
yesterday a whore
A meal once paid
forever staid
— new rawness to procure
(The New Room: December, 2024)
Step into my hidden show,
where shadows dance,
secrets linger,
colours spill
like confessions.
Each stroke
a heartbeat,
each shade a shadow
of my mind,
inviting you to witness
the rawness
beneath the surface.
My mask is stripped away, the downfall began
before the spotlight ever shone.
I've laid it all bare - no shame in this truth.
I seek no applause;
I am not a taboo.
A painted smile is a façade,
not the reality of my struggle.
Here lies the chaos,
tangled threads
of thought,
beauty woven
through brokenness -
an open window
to my soul.
Feel the weight of my silence,
the vibrancy of my despair,
as you navigate this performance,
unfolding the layers
that shape who I am.
So come,
if you dare,
witness my world
unmasked,
where vulnerability
dances with strength,
each moment a story
unwritten,
a testament of resilience,
of hope,
in this intimate theatre
of a heart
laid bare.
D-evotion In Vain; Open Rawness Consuming; Ex-spouse
I-nconvenience; neither one willed to stay the course
V-intage it is of matrimony failing; now get back on the horse
O-ccurred in percentages that make bookies grin without remorse
R-elationships, however, do end; different destinations like an airport concourse
C-opiously feeding an industry; built on having no recourse
E-verything Could've Remained Obviously Vindictive; I Divorced
DIVORCE Acrostic poetry contest 12-14-2023
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
fresh cut mushrooms in the chicken broth
steam of aroma tintillating the tablecloth.
onions fried in olive oil, drizzled on top,
tendrils of thyme dip the garlics in chop.
oregano flakes float in lime green sauce,
rawness of ginger, with the broccolis toss
a splash of sherry on layers of cream
scrambled with eggs, carrots in the team
sipping grated cheese lingering in slow
croutons now dampened, soft and low
paprika sprinkled noodles, a hug so warm
Oh! the bowl's finished, soup-erb perform.
as a perfect medley melts in the mouth,
spoon keeps stirring from north to south.
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