"The wind will ever blow. Time and wear makes all men low.
They cannot respect what they do not see, so all are doomed, like ships at sea, to be swallowed up in a gaping tomb.
There is no escape for any man, how the mighty will be brought low, for everything and everyone the howling maw will ever grow.
Off course, tossed and beaten all suffer fate and wrath and stare at death's approaching face.
Only one beacon stands alone and unmoved...a saviour's sacrifice and grace." Carroll A. Deering
Alright you guys I have a brand new online (live over zoom) writing class with four dates to choose from in May... the theme is Memoir which means telling a story about yourself. This will fill up very very quickly, as one day is almost full from my private group alone, so if you want I’d love to have you! Just sign up soon as I keep them intimate.
We will create the space to take the very ache that persists incessantly in your bones to speak, to reveal and to release. We will revel in the fact that your story is powerful and should be heard.
Do you have a specific letter, a memory, an experience, or chapter you’ve never put on paper before? This class is your absolute chance to.
Memoir writing is conscious, reflective, contemplative and from the HEART. It is showing and not telling, it is your understanding of an experience, it is thought provoking, and it keeps you very energetically alive.
You do not have to be a writer. I'll help you become one and give you a private supportive fb community run my myself, and you will be amazed at what will come out.
Really looking forward to this class with you all. INFO AND SIGNUP LINK IN BIO. ❤ Love you and see you soon.
Day 26. Topic: Free. Title: “myth of the black man”
This piece was inspired by the black man pulled over because he gave money to a homeless person and had to endure being dehumanized because he is a black man. It pissed me off (as it should all of us) because this is a narrative that is so commonplace and hasn’t changed since we were kidnapped from our homes. But I decided to not write out of anger, but out of love for the men, my brothers who are gods and kings made to still feel as though they’re living in the 1800s as slaves. (Some might take offense or feel attacked by my words, but I’m a writer, a poet and as such I decide whatever story I want and have to tell)
You and me. Me and you.
We are like that same old Presley tune that comes crashing around the rocks like tidal waves. Each time, it hits us stronger all over again, and we fall flat at its mercy like fools. You whisper into my ears, as you lie entangled in me and I, in you: Today and forever.
Do you remember that tangerine morning, I kept your shirt on and you looked at me questioningly through the mirror? I laughed, it was the lingering scent of smoke I wanted to cherish at that moment. It smelled like the home I could keep coming back to. No bright smiles would have mattered.
And that September night? We passed the Church walls and spelled out gravels with our names on graveyard dusts. I got tired from counting constellations and you clicked a funny picture of two big teeth sticking out from my mouth.
I am grateful for you. Just the way you put your arm around me or the way you brush your hair back, unconsciously looking out the window, at times too vulnerable to look straight into my eyes.
No wonder we end up together, in that one crossroad over and over again. Because darling, we are yet to start. We are yet to figure out what could possibly be strong enough to separate two tiny nobodies. We hold on to this thread, through those little things that make us belong to each other.
I hope this works enough for you in this life. Because I'd like us to remain that way. Would it even matter if the world remembers us?
Because I will remember you, like a Rumi prayer and you'll always have me near like a Tagore poem.
You and me. Me and you.
0 169 hours ago
✖️This was a poem I wrote for someone who means the world to me. As much as I like writing poetry that expresses the feelings of adoration and love, I feel like there are so many other wonderful things that can be written about that I am yet to try. Got any suggestions? Leave a comment below.✖️
• And that’s the beauty of self-love. When you find it—it always stays ♥️ ————————————————————————
Bookmark/save/screenshot this post to read/caption it in the future. And follow @poetrybyanthony for stories & poetry!————————————————————————
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