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The Wily Scribe

Month: August 2022

Posted on August 17, 2022August 17, 2022

Dawn of a New Day: Contemplative Poetry

Dawn again my smile as I take my place in this leg of the race,Joining the ranks of other moments before me.Who took their beatings and victories graciously,and thanked the opposition I’m currently dusting, for the opportunity.While trusting and knowing, then leaving with the understanding;What doesn’t kill them makes me who I will and have…

Posted on August 17, 2022August 17, 2022

Internal Cleansing, into the Inferno No Burning: Contemplative Poetry *powerful imagery*

I chose to be free, I am grateful for the good and high vibrating things keeping me on my feet.I invite more experiences involving these into me,to saturate every piece of my being presently. Render me wonderfully, powerfully, and with meaning.I invite blessings to infiltrate me, and flood into the scene,filling the lives of all…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 17, 2022

Nope… This Baggage Doesn’t Belong to Me, Myself, and I: Contemplative Poetry On Letting Go of Past Expectations to Allow for Self and Others to Grow

That insta-gratification just isn’t for me, unlike Canada I’m just not Sorry, No apology is required or desired from me, *shrugs* I guess, my guilty button has been rewired to recharge me any time I’m pushed. after all that has transpired, I desired to be free of it completely. I don’t care if you like…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 16, 2022

Establishing Boundaries With My Surroundings: Contemplative Poem

Is anyone else noticing the obsession with unsolved murder mysteries? or is it just me…Is it really any wonder that the atmosphere is feeling a little more murder-y lately?Or are we all too busy going on about inconsequential things passionately?indulging mindlessly with anyone blindly wandering in the same ways? I don’t know about you, but…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 16, 2022

Eyes on the Prize, But I’m Listening… Contemplative Poetry

So many broken dreamers coming apart at the seams,Sad as it seems, is it unexpected, really?When everybody and their momma is mixing drama into their daily mantras, sandwiching low-vibing things between pressure and heat, just isn’t for me… not my cup of tea really I’d rather be flying, rocking and riding, gliding over waves they…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 16, 2022

Creepy Crawlers Come Out of the Closets to Face Me: Rythmic Poetry

Creepy crawlers coming out of the closets, Coming for my happiness, gonna grab a dab of that.Not this crap again, oh well, I guess here we go, tell me all you know, where ya been, take it slow.I’m a sponge in the hands of something, something I don’t know. I’ll try not to let my…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 16, 2022

Self-Awareness: Everything means Everything… Contemplative Poem

This universe-shaped sanctuary suits me perfectly,as I seek to find the designs of my surroundings, I stumble onto a solar system planted deep, resinating.Just waiting to be birthed inside me. For now, I’m exploring the body between me and infinity.From emerald looking-glass to the limitless forest green I’m imagining.Seeing myself in the nature of oceans,…

Posted on August 16, 2022August 16, 2022

Contemplative Poetry: Being Me…

So many uncomfortable things weighing in on the human experience presently, devouring time on our eclectic dime, an epic parasite it might seem. A devil disguised as everything I’ve always thought I wanted, an eccentric mirage of a stolen dream. But then when rest finds me, I find myself relishing the difficulties as much as…

Posted on August 15, 2022August 15, 2022

Inadvertent Messenger Pigeon: Contemplative Poem

Sometimes what seems right and the easy way of being both conflict with the insight guiding me.Turning any action pending or emanating from me into a potential act of rebellion against what’s expected of me. What a good workout for self-awareness this provides to me.Makes my insides feel like my outsides do when I’m lifting…

Posted on August 15, 2022August 15, 2022

La Petit Mort: A Contemplative Poem

Step after step. Right and then left.A left, a left, and then a right again.A moment of bliss before diving back in.What was once salty and empowered, now bland, the memory has expired and soured.A numb return while stagnancy flowered, a stale scent radiating from what has been. And then, back to the climb, another…

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