I’m Awake Again – [Poetry]

Photo by Joshua Abner on Pexels.com

High standards bent my neck,

forcing me to look

at false mirrors;

a blink is all it took.

Then with closed my eyes,

I breathed so deep

my neck relaxed,

insecurities fell asleep.

I’m awake again.

Prose of The High Priestess – [Poetry]

Prose of The High Priestess

Close your eyes. Fall. Let her catch you; if she doesn’t, know that there’s no intention to break your trust, but unconsciously keep a better promise through a deep dive into your psyche.

Close your eyes. Listen. Even when your eyes are open, you can feel her screaming in your most vulnerable places; your gut and your heart. Relentlessly, she struggles against your consciousness that is almost convinced to ignore her and instead let outside forces have the final say.

What is Allegory? – Literary Terms 101

Allegory: “An extended metaphor in which the characters, places, and objects in a narrative carry figurative meaning. Often an allegory’s meaning is religious, moral, or historical in nature,” – Poetry Foundation


Gwendolyn Brooks on Allegory

To expand on the use of allegory in literature, I want utilize the poem “Boy Breaking Glass” by Gwendolyn Brooks. The poem has been interpreted as an artistic outcry towards social injustice with commanding imagery throughout. The poem was dedicated to Marc Crawford, a writer she knew who had the poem published in his magazines Tone and as a reprint in the magazine Time Capsule (Kent, 2014). Read the poem below and take in the figurative meaning for yourself.

To Marc Crawford
from whom the commission

Whose broken window is a cry of art   
(success, that winks aware
as elegance, as a treasonable faith)
is raw: is sonic: is old-eyed première.
Our beautiful flaw and terrible ornament.   
Our barbarous and metal little man.

“I shall create! If not a note, a hole.   
If not an overture, a desecration.”

Full of pepper and light
and Salt and night and cargoes.

“Don’t go down the plank
if you see there’s no extension.   
Each to his grief, each to
his loneliness and fidgety revenge.
Nobody knew where I was and now I am no longer there.”

The only sanity is a cup of tea.   
The music is in minors.

Each one other
is having different weather.

“It was you, it was you who threw away my name!   
And this is everything I have for me.”

Who has not Congress, lobster, love, luau,   
the Regency Room, the Statue of Liberty,   
runs. A sloppy amalgamation.
A mistake.
A cliff.
A hymn, a snare, and an exceeding sun.

Poem found on poetryfoundation.org

Quote source: A Life of Gwendolyn Brooks by George Kent – 2014


My Poetry

Elemental Magic – Fire

Prose of The Magician

Prose of The Fool

Elemental Magic – Earth

Peril

A Remarkable Read – Feminize Your Canon: Alice Dunbar-Nelson – [Artist Recognition / History Study]

“Oft have I thrilled at deeds of high emprise, / And yearned to venture into realms unknown,” Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson – “To Madame Curie” A powerful force from history greeted me today through The Paris Review: Alice Dunbar-Nelson. I came across this article by Joanna Scutts while looking for magazines that accepted poetry. I was … Continue reading A Remarkable Read – Feminize Your Canon: Alice Dunbar-Nelson – [Artist Recognition / History Study]

Witchcraft On Your Eyelashes (Poem)

Blink, you begin to see
the world as a mirror.
When you look around, you paint with fire,
and dance in the ashes.
Your glares are necromancy
raising passions once dead.
Your irises, an endless color palette
capturing your technicolor heart.
Your stare transform into screams;
music to the spirits.
Sparks in your sight
bring hearts to burst.
Witchcraft on your eyelashes
fluttering with the impossible.
Blink,
magic becomes incredibly possible.

I may submit this poem into a contest. What do you think?

The Monster Deep – Dark/Gothic/Horror Poetry

A thousand tendrils twisting
deep, deep inside me.
Rising through my chest cavity
so I believe I’ve lost all sanity.
Aching, wanting to weep
over this instinct so deep.
Avoiding numbness to the lies
by trusting my mind’s eye.
Deep, deep inside me,
the bellowing monster, calling, calling.

A thousand teeth chattering
deep, deep inside me.
Fluent in blasphemy, self-decay,
a master at sending my bravery away.
Hopeless, wanting to soar
rather than dive into the ocean floor.
How dare I try to flee from drowning
when the monster within is also surrounding.
Deep, deep inside me,
the endless monster, hunting, hunting.

A thousand whispers dancing
deep, deep inside me.
Tearing my logic apart from me.
Hoping I’ll believe its reality.
Listening, but wanting to dream
just to recall my dreams losing meaning.
Hope waltzes with the whispers,
destiny becomes a fleeting shiver.
Deep, deep inside me.
The prancing monster, eating, eating.

Deep, deep inside me.
I must believe I’m killing it slowly.

Thank you for listening.

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