forgottenmeadows

thoughts from my mind to yours

Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a Poetic Collaboration – “Letting Go”

108 Comments

image copyright neha 2017

 

Hello Everyone,

It has been a while since I have done a poetic collaboration and I thought with fall approaching soon this would be a great time to do one. The theme of this collaboration is ‘letting go’ ( letting go of a person, season, loss, grief, dreams, anger, hate or any other emotion or object that you may choose to write about). Everyone is welcome to participate and I will add your contribution in the order they come and list the author (and blog link if listed) beneath the post. You may contribute as many times as you wish. Please note that hateful language is not acceptable and I will remove any post I find inappropriate. If you want to see a previous example of my collaborations you can visit here.  Please add your contributions in the comment section. Please include the actual verse not just the blog link in order to be considered. The collaboration will be open until September 30, 2017 until 11:59 pm E.S.T. Thank you all! So without further ado, I will start us off and hope to see you all join me in creating another beautiful, creative, collaborative, piece!

 

Her eyes followed the white tipped waves to shore
Her heart heavy with the sweet ache of letting go
As she watched the sun set with all its warmth

poetry copyright neha 2017 (forgottenmeadows.wordpress.com)

 

A PROCESS OF BECOMING

The bullet that left a shattered heart
Was hard pain when it hit
Looking at all the mess around
Made me break down and weep

But after the tears had dried again
I looked at each single shard.
Some were old and dirty
Some were shiny and pure art

I brushed the dirty ones all clean
And cleared out what was overdue
I looked how they would fit right now
And put them altogether new

With this new established heart
A new day can begin
What was will never be forgotten,
It forced the growth – was not in vain

The shards are all my memories
Which made me who I am
Don’t want to miss a single one
I’d do it all again

Whatever might look as an ending,
Is never meant that way
The night may look dark and so scary
But there’s always another day

We need the silence and the darkness
To focus on our light
‘Cause we are like the dawning sun
After a cold dark night

The bullet helped me to evolve
To bring the process to an end
That’s why the one who shot the bullet
Has now become another friend

poetry copyright Erika Kind (https://erikakind.me/)

 

 

LETTING GO

What happened once is long ago
Regrets and guilt won’t change it though

And all the wounds, well, quite a lot
From all the bullets others shot

I think it’s time to let them heal
And stop to make it a big deal

Too long I kept the past alive
And cut myself with its sharp knife

Too long I carried it along
And kept myself from moving on

I look above and see the sky
Was it ever so blue and high?

There’s so much room to just be me
I’m letting go and flying free

poetry copyright Erika Kind (https://erikakind.me/)

 

 

Letting go,
Can be an act of strong love.
In the role as a person or parent,
It is a gift from up above.

Letting go,
It is a gift that’s hard to perform.
But with trust and the action,
Life gets reformed.

poetry copyright Astrid (https://astridswords.ca/)

 

 

heat rising through my body like an angry tide
waves of anger drown out all thoughts
softly a whisper comes about letting go
allow the tides of life to pass gracefully
deep love anchors me to eternal peace

poetry copyright Brad (https://writingtofreedom.com/)

 

Not a day goes by without me thinking of you,
Not a day passes without my wondering,
Not a day dies before I die again inside,
Yet, today, there are no more days.

poetry copyright Rob Mcshane (robmcshane.wordpress.com)

 

Cleansing
Material
Physical
Mental
Spiritual
Cleansing
What once was
Time changes
Hands on clock turn
Clock in heart turns
Antique memories
Letting go
Always somewhere in the mind

If no longer tangible

poetry copyright sylvester (https://syl65.wordpress.com/)

 Letting go of you…..
Everything you are to me….
Even when you are too far away to be seen….
Even when I realize the deep fact, that you don’t even know I exist…..
That you may have seen me once or twice,
But not for long enough or close enough to notice….
Though I did. And I clearly have in my mind,
Every single picture of your’s I captured with my eye..
And now its been almost a decade,but I am still not ready to leave them all behind….
And now I know, letting go of you and your memories,
Is as impossible as, breathing OUT oxygen, every last bit of it, from my veins and arteries…..
 

 

To let go…

Yonder in the horizon the sun set…
The clouds they bade farewell to older lands…
Into the oblivion, forlorn I stared…
Standing firm.., yet with trembling hands.

Into the misty gray you walked..
My soul it howled a silent wail…
The heart though it ached for your love
These eyes they said no word without fail.

The lights are out…darkness shrouds
Shadows play a mocking game…
As fingers flip through torn notes…
I knew ’tis the time to wipe your name.

No words uttered… no expectations
I knew ’twas the time to let go…
No hard feelings… all are forgiven…
Our story is history.. it happened long ago.

poetry copyright Sumantra (rhythemic.wordpress.com)

 

 

Come Away With Me My Friend (Let Us Run To The Ocean)

Come away with me my friend

***

Let us run to the ocean,

Where you can let the pain in your heart

Be overpowered by the roar of the waves.

Let us go where you can shout ”Why?” to the sky,

And scream as loud as you need.

Where you can fall to your knees on the soft sand.

***

Let us run to the ocean,

Where I can hold you tight, and let you cry.

Where you can let your shoulders sag.

Where you can let your tears fall,

To be carried away by the waves.

Lean on me. Let me be your strength.

***

Let us run to the ocean.

Oh, my dear friend… let us just go!

You need not think about the future.

Let us walk along the water’s edge.

Remember when we were young?

Our lives were so carefree

***

Let us stand in the water.

Let the waves splash your face,

And gently wash away your tears.

Let us run to the ocean.

Let us go where the waves go on forever.

Life can be hard my very special friend.

***

But let us run to the ocean.

Life we cannot always understand.

Things happen that cannot be explained.

But the waves will go on forever

Through night and day; Through rain or shine,

As will my love for you.

***

Let us go to the ocean my dear friend.

We will face the rolling waves together,

And if you slip… I will be there to catch you.

If you feel you are losing your way…

I will be there to guide you.

***

poetry copyright (joyroses13.wordpress.com)

 

 

Going, gone!

She moved from places and spaces,

some haunted her and some with reluctance.

Her belongings scattered, her memories astray,

her experiences painful.

She reached a shore,

she clung onto it with her dear life,

finally, letting go, of her identity!

 

poetry copyright Suparna (pulsingthoughts.wordpress.com)

 

 

 

Fake Samurai Swords

There were these children who pretended to be adults,
fighting for good against the forces of evil.
Inspired by animated films that focused on this ancient struggle,
these adults, these children in disguise, were transformed into cute animals, anthropomorphic, pure of heart, ready to suffer the ultimate sacrifice if it means a happy ending.
As long as good wins against evil, they can sleep soundly.
The world can be full of loss, but the balance is there.
There will be justice for all,
everything will be alright.
There is a life we fight for,
and when that ends,
we will go to heaven,
celebrating eternity with the ones we love.

This is what these children believed,
they acted this out, wearing their parents kimono’s, using sticks as samurai swords.
One of these boys played this game devoutly,
he was going to save the world.
His grandmother told them stories about this great war,
the unfathomable death toll, piles of corpses, buildings made for death.
Desperate men crying out for their mothers,
crying out for their dreams of childhood: a universe that balances itself out, a universe that punishes the wicked and rewards the good.
And it’s then that this child started wondering about those who died so that this narrative could linger: the heroes who never had a chance to dream, heroes without luck, heroes too weak or too good to kill without hesitation or guilt.
It then dawned on him these were childlike fantasies,
something to make us sleep better at night.
This cosmic battle of good versus evil,
belongs to man alone,
the great cost of life,
is ours to make sense off.
But it won’t make anybody come back,
and nobody will be waiting for us,
none of the dead will forgive us.
the great cost is only ours to bear.
And what about the universe?
The Universe can’t be bothered.

This realization made the child cry,
when he wiped away his tears,
a process that took years,
he became an adult.
He continued the fight against evil,
playing by different rules,
wearing a army-uniform instead of kimono’s,
wielding military-grade weaponry instead of fake samurai swords.
He would get ready for that great war that would come again,
he could either die so that others could dream,
or live so he could be inspired by those who died for this dream.
But sometimes he couldn’t help himself:
sometimes he just wanted to play with fake samurai swords again.
And when his platoon wasn’t looking;
he pretended to be that child pretending to be an adult.
He knew that when the time came,
he had to let this go,
but for now,
while no one was looking,
he was winning the fight against evil,
and sometimes he would lose but the universe would balance itself out,
he would see his fallen friends in heaven,
they would wait for him,
salute him on arrival.
He would sleep soundly those nights
and
all his dreams
would have a happy ending.

poetry copyright thosestubbornwaves (https://welcometothehumanrace.wordpress.com/2017/09/13/fake-samurai-swords/)

 

 

Complexion

diffusion seeps

a single cell layer deep,

barely cognizant 

of the peel being cast aside

in a wilting weep.

unrecognized within the foliage,

a tender touch of light

on the ancient forest,

who remembers and lives

connection and the grace of balance.

i brush the fronds

and release my future 

to the agile wind.

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017
https://giannaiannucci.com/

 

 

 

Motorcycle Man

A man goes for a late-night ride on his motorcycle on his way into town.
On the way there, he is approached by another man wearing white shoes.
White shoes asks motorcycle man, “Are you ready to go?”
“No,” motorcycle man replies, “I have so much to do, and it’s late. My son starts his first day of fifth grade tomorrow. I don’t want to sleep through it. I need to tell him I love him and that he’s going to do great things and make lots of friends in school. I need to kiss my wife goodnight before she falls asleep and remind her how important she is to me so she has pleasant dreams. I need to tuck in my baby and sing him to sleep so that he grows up knowing I’ll be his stronghold. I’m sorry, it’s just too late in the evening for this. Can we do this another time?”
White shoes smiles and looks at him patiently. His expression was so full of peace, but he insisted, “We’re going to do great things, you and me. I don’t think you or anyone else understands. Maybe they never will. But we need to go now.”
“May I at least call my friend and tell him where I am first? He’s waiting for my call, but I have bad reception at my house. I need to make sure we have a good laugh so we can each go to sleep with smiles on our faces.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t allow it. We don’t have much time left, and in the grand scheme of things, it’ll only take a moment.”
“But why not? I don’t think you realize what this means to me! Please, just let me have this night. I have responsibilities! I have commitments! I have planning to do and the world to see!”
White shoes’ expression softened, “If I show you a glimpse into the outcome, will you consider going with me?”
“Perhaps, but I’m not making any promises.”
White shoes wrapped his arm around motorcycle man’s shoulder. Together, they saw the future. There was so much pain, but so many miracles along the way as well. Motorcycle man’s sons grew up strong and loving like he was. Their mom told them stories about how incredible motorcycle man was- how they fell in love, and for every ounce of strength, there were two ounces of tenderness. She would never love the same way again, but she did love more fiercely all those around her, especially her sons. Motorcycle man’s friends got together frequently. At first, it was to comfort one another, but then they started laughing about all the amazing memories they made. Each of his friends changed their lives to be a bit more like him. One became a strong husband to his wife. Another learned how to fix up old cars and motorcycles and eventually drove the same kind motorcycle man was driving. And still another friend held stronger to his convictions than he ever had before. All of them increased in integrity.
Everyone who heard motorcycle man’s story was deeply touched, and amazed at how he inspired so much love, courage, boldness, and kindness.
“Okay,” he finally said, “I get it now. I don’t like it, and I know you know they won’t approve, but you’re right. We’re going to do a lot of great things together, you and me. It might be late and the time inopportune, but the time is now. It just doesn’t make any sense putting this off.”
Together, broad shouldered and proud, white shoes and motorcycle man walked the rest of the trail together, leaving the motorcycle in the middle of the road. Motorcycle man left his silhouette there, next to the bike.
The story isn’t over, and I’m not sure the pain will ever leave, but I know that someday, it will all make sense.

short story copyright https://decemberrosecom.wordpress.com


Shimmer in Blue

I was designed                               for a shimmer in blue                       for a merry sailor tune
for all of the things                                      that titillate you
I can see                                  the wide open sea                                  the salt air breeze
like a veil and ring                            like my bride to be
and so                        I ebb and flow                                    I ne’er let go
let the words sing                      into an ocean throe.
Now my heart throbs                       and floats and bobs                          as I ask the cob
why roots start growing                       where there’s a meal on the hob.
He looks at me with a tear in his eye         he says to me that he learned to fly
on a warm, summer day with a clear blue sky      but for every memory adventures bring
you never forget your first goodbye.

poetry copyright https://decemberrosecom.wordpress.com

 

 

 

Letting go?
How was that supposed to happen,
exactly?
You were the air, and my lungs…
not just the blood flowing through,
but my veins, too.
Just,
how was that going to change?

How could you just walk away?
I mean,
you shared my hopes,
my dreams,
my life.
You?!
My inspiration,
my passion,
my wife.
Was everything just…
nothing to you?
If so,
what am I supposed to do?

Letting go?
Wouldn’t it be easier for blue
to become black;
the sun,
turn into the moon;
the stars,
be the sand on the shores…
I,
I could never let you go…

Until I did…
You didn’t’t really give me a choice.
The pain was excruciating,
and my path,
my path was dreary;
but I’m,
I’m so much the better for it,
that much’s abundantly clear.
And I owe it all to you my dear;
for walking away,
and never shedding a tear.

poetry copyright Grabbety Covens (grabbetycovens.wordpress.com)

 

I am in a season of change,
Letting go of pieces of me
That don’t fit anymore,
Making room for new ones
That I pick up along the way
My path of self-discovery.
In this journey I have collected
Rocks of courage,
Of strength,
Of determination
To help me find the me
That has been buried
In the chaos of life
Yet was always there
Waiting for the right time
To blossom in the process of
Letting go.

poetry copyright Robin Baldwin (rbaldwin0204.wordpress.com)

 

 

Can I ever let go?

Can I ever let go of your touch?
At night, I dream of your fingers.
I can’t believe I miss you so much.
Your strokes through my hair still linger.

Can I ever let go of your eyes?
With great pride, you watched me grow.
I dearly pray for one last surprise.
You to return to me, I know.

I know my prayers won’t be answered.
My wishes never come true.
But I still have hopes to be answered.
And one day to see you too.

Can I ever let go of your humor?
Your wit and jokes had lightened my days.
I know this is much more than a rumor
That I’ll never have you brighten my days.

Days keep on passing.
But life must go on.
My heart is fasting
Each day it beats on.

Can I ever let go of you?
To my dearest, older brother,
My answer is a ‘no’ to you.
You weren’t only my brother.

You helped my mother to raise me.
You provided light for her blind eyes.
You’ll always be the best of me.
Until the day, I close my own eyes.

poetry copyright Susanne Leist (susanneleist.wordpress.com)

 

 

The Girl I Let Go

She was a shell, really
or
a shadow of a shell
hollow and barely warm.
Her faint breath could
barely fog
the mirror I held to my face

She was still cloaked in
the garment of expectations.
He spine was cowed
and her posture demure

The only thing
I took from her was
her eyes.

The fury of her eyes
would never diminish,
their eternal flame
is equal parts salvation
and damnation.

And so I left her
their to wither into
ash.
I shed her like a
crumpling snakeskin

and stepped into
the woman
I ought to be.

poetry copyright Jessi (cirquedelanuitblog.wordpress.com)

 

Release the world,
The hold of its illusions
Weighs the heart.
Sensory deception…
Filtered impressions
Conditioned, react
Like clockwork;
Predictably bland.
Embrace the child
Who sleeps within,
Forgotten emissary
Of untramelled joy…
Wake her to laughter
And the dawn of Life.

poetry copyright Sue Vincent (scvincent.wordpress.com)

 

 

 

I —
Have another secret to tell you:
That I once ran through a bookstore
And saw an untitled book.
I hesitated once to buy it,
For who would even read such story?
But still,
I went to the counter
Paid for it
And told the lady
That
I will be extending this story
Of you and me.
Hoping that someday
Our names would be on its covers.
Our story will continue until the ink
Blotches on the pages.
And our story would not remain…

Untitled.

poetry copyright (fattykathyjourneys.wordpress.com)

 

 

And it starts again
The pitter patter
A noise
To break the silence
Asking me to pick the pen
To let go the poem

poetry copyright Priyanka (notyet100hub.blogspot.com)

 

 

 

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Author: forgottenmeadows

I am a dreamer and a writer who loves to ponder on the words of the soul.

108 thoughts on “Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a Poetic Collaboration – “Letting Go”

  1. This is a great idea, Neha! I will see if I can participate tomorrow 😊

  2. Pingback: Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a Poetic Collaboration – “Letting Go” – Erika Kind

  3. What a wonderful idea. And I love your poem. I recently wrote about Letting go, such an important healing process in moving forward. One that’s a continual work in progress. 💕

  4. What a wonderful way to welcome All the Beauty Fall has to offer. 🥀🥀🥀😎😎😎

  5. Pingback: Letting Go – My Take – Erika Kind

  6. Hi, Neha! My poem is up http://erikakind.me/2017/09/10/letting-go-my-take
    I hope you like it. Maybe I am coming up with more but this is what I thought of immediately!

    • Hello my friend thank you for sharing, will you please put up the actual verse in the comment section and I will add it once that is done.

      • Oh, sorry, yes of course!! Here we go:

        A PROCESS OF BECOMING

        The bullet that left a shattered heart
        Was hard pain when it hit
        Looking at all the mess around
        Made me break down and weep

        But after the tears had dried again
        I looked at each single shard.
        Some were old and dirty
        Some were shiny and pure art

        I brushed the dirty ones all clean
        And cleared out what was overdue
        I looked how they would fit right now
        And put them altogether new

        With this new established heart
        A new day can begin
        What was will never be forgotten,
        It forced the growth – was not in vain

        The shards are all my memories
        Which made me who I am
        Don’t want to miss a single one
        I’d do it all again

        Whatever might look as an ending,
        Is never meant that way
        The night may look dark and so scary
        But there’s always another day

        We need the silence and the darkness
        To focus on our light
        ‘Cause we are like the dawning sun
        After a cold dark night

        The bullet helped me to evolve
        To bring the process to an end
        That’s why the one who shot the bullet
        Has now become another friend

      • wow amazing ending thank you again for pasting! 🙂

      • Thank you, Neha! I am very happy you like it!!

  7. Pingback: Letting Go – Take 2 – Erika Kind

  8. Wonderful idea Neha. My contribution is below. May we flow with life in peace.

    heat rising through my body like an angry tide
    waves of anger drown out all thoughts
    softly a whisper comes about letting go
    allow the tides of life to pass gracefully
    deep love anchors me to eternal peace

  9. HI Neha! Long time! 🙂 Love this idea. Here is my offering:
    Not a day goes by without me thinking of you,
    Not a day passes without my wondering,
    Not a day dies before I die again inside,
    Yet, today, there are no more days.

  10. Pingback: Letting Go – The Cleansing | Syl65's Blog

  11. Hi, Neha. Here is my poem about letting go. https://syl65.wordpress.com/2017/09/10/letting-go-the-cleansing/
    Thank you for starting this collaboration post.

  12. The Cleansing:

    Cleansing
    Material
    Physical
    Mental
    Spiritual
    Cleansing
    What once was
    Time changes
    Hands on clock turn
    Clock in heart turns
    Antique memories
    Letting go
    Always somewhere in the mind
    If no longer tangible

  13. Letting go of you…..
    Everything you are to me….
    Even when you are too far away to be seen….
    Even when I realize the deep fact, that you don’t even know I exist…..
    That you may have seen me once or twice,
    But not for long enough or close enough to notice….
    Though I did. And I clearly have in my mind,
    Every single picture of your’s I captured with my eye..
    And now its been almost a decade,but I am still not ready to leave them all behind….
    And now I know, letting go of you and your memories,
    Is as impossible as, breathing OUT oxygen, every last bit of it, from my veins and arteries…..

  14. Hello, here is my contribution:

    To let go…

    Yonder in the horizon the sun set…
    The clouds they bade farewell to older lands…
    Into the oblivion, forlorn I stared…
    Standing firm.., yet with trembling hands.

    Into the misty gray you walked..
    My soul it howled a silent wail…
    The heart though it ached for your love
    These eyes they said no word without fail.

    The lights are out…darkness shrouds
    Shadows play a mocking game…
    As fingers flip through torn notes…
    I knew ’tis the time to wipe your name.

    No words uttered… no expectations
    I knew ’twas the time to let go…
    No hard feelings… all are forgiven…
    Our story is history.. it happened long ago.

  15. Thank you for the note on twitter, Neha. I’ll look into this and see if I can come up with creating something, however one image appeared instantly, an image I do call “Letting Go” Would that enough, a simple image? Much love to you. /Hanne

  16. This is a lovely idea and I am enjoying the poems I have read on here. I am not sure if this poem falls into the category of Letting Go, but I think it does. It has to do with grief and being there for a a friend. I feel its about helping her to let go. Thank you for the opportunity to share it on here.

    Come Away With Me My Friend (Let Us Run To The Ocean)

    Come away with me my friend

    ***

    Let us run to the ocean,

    Where you can let the pain in your heart

    Be overpowered by the roar of the waves.

    Let us go where you can shout ”Why?” to the sky,

    And scream as loud as you need.

    Where you can fall to your knees on the soft sand.

    ***

    Let us run to the ocean,

    Where I can hold you tight, and let you cry.

    Where you can let your shoulders sag.

    Where you can let your tears fall,

    To be carried away by the waves.

    Lean on me. Let me be your strength.

    ***

    Let us run to the ocean.

    Oh, my dear friend… let us just go!

    You need not think about the future.

    Let us walk along the water’s edge.

    Remember when we were young?

    Our lives were so carefree

    ***

    Let us stand in the water.

    Let the waves splash your face,

    And gently wash away your tears.

    Let us run to the ocean.

    Let us go where the waves go on forever.

    Life can be hard my very special friend.

    ***

    But let us run to the ocean.

    Life we cannot always understand.

    Things happen that cannot be explained.

    But the waves will go on forever

    Through night and day; Through rain or shine,

    As will my love for you.

    ***

    Let us go to the ocean my dear friend.

    We will face the rolling waves together,

    And if you slip… I will be there to catch you.

    If you feel you are losing your way…

    I will be there to guide you.

    ***

    Let us talk in silence,

    For our love does not need words.

    We have a special friendship.

    Let us run to the ocean.

    Let the waves mesmerize you.

    Let the ocean’s rhythm soothe your soul.

    ***

    Let us go to the ocean, my friend.

    Go where no words are needed.

    Where we will let the waves speak.

    Let us go the ocean my friend.

    Let us go… and be as one,

    For I will never let you fight this on your own.

    ***

    Come away with me my friend.

  17. Hi Neha,

    Tried my hand with a verse….

    Going, gone!

    She moved from places and spaces,

    some haunted her and some with reluctance.

    Her belongings scattered, her memories astray,

    her experiences painful.

    She reached a shore,

    she clung onto it with her dear life,

    finally, letting go, of her identity!

    Thank you.

  18. I see I made a few mistakes- if you approve of the poem, I hope you will permit me to make a few minor changes.

    • I am a little lost, I am not sure of the poem you are referring to…

      • I posted a poem “Fake Samurai Swords” on this comment page. Guess something went wrong. I’ll send it again 🙂

      • Fake Samurai Swords

        There were these children who pretended to be adults,
        fighting for good against the forces of evil.
        Inspired by animated films that focused on this ancient struggle,
        these adults, these children in disguise, were transformed into cute animals, anthropomorphic, pure of heart, ready to suffer the ultimate sacrifice if it means a happy ending.
        As long as good wins against evil, they can sleep soundly.
        The world can be full of loss, but the balance is there.
        There will be justice for all,
        everything will be alright.
        There is a life we fight for,
        and when that ends,
        we will go to heaven,
        celebrating eternity with the ones we love.

        This is what these children believed,
        they acted this out, wearing their parents kimono’s, using sticks as samurai swords.
        One of these boys played this game devoutly,
        he was going to save the world.
        His grandmother told them stories about this great war,
        the unfathomable death toll, piles of corpses, buildings made for death.
        Desperate men crying out for their mothers,
        crying out for their dreams of childhood: a universe that balances itself out, a universe that punishes the wicked and rewards the good.
        And it’s then that this child started wondering about those who died so that this narrative could linger: the heroes who never had a chance to dream, heroes without luck, heroes too weak or too good to kill without hesitation or guilt.
        It then dawned on him these were childlike fantasies,
        something to make us sleep better at night.
        This cosmic battle of good versus evil,
        belongs to man alone,
        the great cost of life,
        is ours to make sense off.
        But it won’t make anybody come back,
        and nobody will be waiting for us,
        none of the dead will forgive us.
        the great cost is only ours to bear.
        And what about the universe?
        The Universe can’t be bothered.

        This realization made the child cry,
        when he wiped away his tears,
        a process that took years,
        he became an adult.
        He continued the fight against evil,
        playing by different rules,
        wearing a army-uniform instead of kimono’s,
        wielding military-grade weaponry instead of fake samurai swords.
        He would get ready for that great war that would come again,
        he could either die so that others could dream,
        or live so he could be inspired by those who died for this dream.
        But sometimes he couldn’t help himself:
        sometimes he just wanted to play with fake samurai swords again.
        And when his platoon wasn’t looking;
        he pretended to be that child pretending to be an adult.
        He knew that when the time came,
        he had to let this go,
        but for now,
        while no one was looking,
        he was winning the fight against evil,
        and sometimes he would lose but the universe would balance itself out,
        he would see his fallen friends in heaven,
        they would wait for him,
        salute him on arrival.
        He would sleep soundly those nights
        and
        all his dreams
        would have a happy ending.

        ***

      • Thank you I can read this poem now, is this what you want to submit then I can add it when I do my next update. Thank you for your contribution

      • Yes, if you think it’s worth the quality of the “letting Go” series, i’d gladly have this among them.

      • Great, thank you for the contribution!

      • If you have blog link please let me know and I can add that later.

      • Here you go: https://welcometothehumanrace.wordpress.com/2017/09/13/fake-samurai-swords/
        Thanks for reading it and posting it among your collection. I really enjoy your work, so it will make me very happy.

      • Thank you, I enjoyed reading your poetry as well!

  19. Pingback: For Anyone Who missed it…New Collaboration “Letting Go” is Open! | forgottenmeadows

  20. Complexion

    diffusion seeps

    a single cell layer deep,

    barely cognizant 

    of the peel being cast aside

    in a wilting weep.

    unrecognized within the foliage,

    a tender touch of light

    on the ancient forest,

    who remembers and lives

    connection and the grace of balance.

    i brush the fronds

    and release my future 

    to the agile wind.

    .

    © M.G. Iannucci 2017
    https://giannaiannucci.com/

    I have so enjoyed your blog posts. Thank you for your consideration.

  21. I’d like to add my short story entitled “Motorcycle Man”

    https://decemberrosecom.wordpress.com/category/stories-motorcycle-man/

    as well as my poem “Shimmer in Blue”

    https://decemberrosecom.wordpress.com/2017/09/15/shimmer-in-blue/

    Thank you for opening your site to all of us 🙂

    • Thank you for sharing your links; however, the content needs to be posted in the comment section with the actual verse to be considered. Please post your verse and ensure it follows the theme of “letting go” once that is complete, I will add it in my next update! 🙂

      • Motorcycle Man

        A man goes for a late-night ride on his motorcycle on his way into town.
        On the way there, he is approached by another man wearing white shoes.
        White shoes asks motorcycle man, “Are you ready to go?”
        “No,” motorcycle man replies, “I have so much to do, and it’s late. My son starts his first day of fifth grade tomorrow. I don’t want to sleep through it. I need to tell him I love him and that he’s going to do great things and make lots of friends in school. I need to kiss my wife goodnight before she falls asleep and remind her how important she is to me so she has pleasant dreams. I need to tuck in my baby and sing him to sleep so that he grows up knowing I’ll be his stronghold. I’m sorry, it’s just too late in the evening for this. Can we do this another time?”
        White shoes smiles and looks at him patiently. His expression was so full of peace, but he insisted, “We’re going to do great things, you and me. I don’t think you or anyone else understands. Maybe they never will. But we need to go now.”
        “May I at least call my friend and tell him where I am first? He’s waiting for my call, but I have bad reception at my house. I need to make sure we have a good laugh so we can each go to sleep with smiles on our faces.”
        “I’m sorry, I can’t allow it. We don’t have much time left, and in the grand scheme of things, it’ll only take a moment.”
        “But why not? I don’t think you realize what this means to me! Please, just let me have this night. I have responsibilities! I have commitments! I have planning to do and the world to see!”
        White shoes’ expression softened, “If I show you a glimpse into the outcome, will you consider going with me?”
        “Perhaps, but I’m not making any promises.”
        White shoes wrapped his arm around motorcycle man’s shoulder. Together, they saw the future. There was so much pain, but so many miracles along the way as well. Motorcycle man’s sons grew up strong and loving like he was. Their mom told them stories about how incredible motorcycle man was- how they fell in love, and for every ounce of strength, there were two ounces of tenderness. She would never love the same way again, but she did love more fiercely all those around her, especially her sons. Motorcycle man’s friends got together frequently. At first, it was to comfort one another, but then they started laughing about all the amazing memories they made. Each of his friends changed their lives to be a bit more like him. One became a strong husband to his wife. Another learned how to fix up old cars and motorcycles and eventually drove the same kind motorcycle man was driving. And still another friend held stronger to his convictions than he ever had before. All of them increased in integrity.
        Everyone who heard motorcycle man’s story was deeply touched, and amazed at how he inspired so much love, courage, boldness, and kindness.
        “Okay,” he finally said, “I get it now. I don’t like it, and I know you know they won’t approve, but you’re right. We’re going to do a lot of great things together, you and me. It might be late and the time inopportune, but the time is now. It just doesn’t make any sense putting this off.”
        Together, broad shouldered and proud, white shoes and motorcycle man walked the rest of the trail together, leaving the motorcycle in the middle of the road. Motorcycle man left his silhouette there, next to the bike.
        The story isn’t over, and I’m not sure the pain will ever leave, but I know that someday, it will all make sense.

        Shimmer in Blue

        I was designed                               for a shimmer in blue                       for a merry sailor tune
        for all of the things                                      that titillate you
        I can see                                  the wide open sea                                  the salt air breeze
        like a veil and ring                            like my bride to be
        and so                        I ebb and flow                                    I ne’er let go
        let the words sing                      into an ocean throe.
        Now my heart throbs                       and floats and bobs                          as I ask the cob
        why roots start growing                       where there’s a meal on the hob.
        He looks at me with a tear in his eye         he says to me that he learned to fly
        on a warm, summer day with a clear blue sky      but for every memory adventures bring
        you never forget your first goodbye.

      • beautiful pieces thank you so much!

      • Of course and thank you for the opportunity 🙂

  22. Pingback: Calling all creative minds – 1 More Week to join in the poetic Collaboration “letting go” | forgottenmeadows

  23. Letting go?
    How was that supposed to happen,
    exactly?
    You were the air, and my lungs…
    not just the blood flowing through,
    but my veins, too.
    Just,
    how was that going to change?

    How could you just walk away?
    I mean,
    you shared my hopes,
    my dreams,
    my life.
    You?!
    My inspiration,
    my passion,
    my wife.
    Was everything just…
    nothing to you?
    If so,
    what am I supposed to do?

    Letting go?
    Wouldn’t it be easier for blue
    to become black;
    the sun,
    turn into the moon;
    the stars,
    be the sand on the shores…
    I,
    I could never let you go…

    Until I did…
    You didn’t’t really give me a choice.
    The pain was excruciating,
    and my path,
    my path was dreary;
    but I’m,
    I’m so much the better for it,
    that much’s abundantly clear.
    And I owe it all to you my dear;
    for walking away,
    and never shedding a tear.

  24. Hi Neha,

    I saw your post about this collaboration and wanted to contribute.

    –Robin Baldwin

    I am in a season of change,
    Letting go of pieces of me
    That don’t fit anymore,
    Making room for new ones
    That I pick up along the way
    My path of self-discovery.
    In this journey I have collected
    Rocks of courage,
    Of strength,
    Of determination
    To help me find the me
    That has been buried
    In the chaos of life
    Yet was always there
    Waiting for the right time
    To blossom in the process of
    Letting go.

  25. I sat down and wrote a poem about my brother. It was written with many tears. I hope you like it.
    Can I ever let go?

    Can I ever let go of your touch?
    At night, I dream of your fingers.
    I can’t believe I miss you so much.
    Your strokes through my hair still linger.

    Can I ever let go of your eyes?
    With great pride, you watched me grow.
    I dearly pray for one last surprise.
    You to return to me, I know.

    I know my prayers won’t be answered.
    My wishes never come true.
    But I still have hopes to be answered.
    And one day to see you too.

    Can I ever let go of your humor?
    Your wit and jokes had lightened my days.
    I know this is much more than a rumor
    That I’ll never have you brighten my days.

    Days keep on passing.
    But life must go on.
    My heart is fasting
    Each day it beats on.

    Can I ever let go of you?
    To my dearest, older brother,
    My answer is a ‘no’ to you.
    You weren’t only my brother.

    You helped my mother to raise me.
    You provided light for her blind eyes.
    You’ll always be the best of me.
    Until the day, I close my own eyes.

    • I am so sorry for your loss and this is a beautiful tribute to the memory of your brother, Your words touched my heart, thank you for sharing your grief in your beautiful poetry… I know where ever he may be he is smiling down at you. Much love and big hugs my friend ❤

  26. The Girl I Let Go

    She was a shell, really
    or
    a shadow of a shell
    hollow and barely warm.
    Her faint breath could
    barely fog
    the mirror I held to my face

    She was still cloaked in
    the garment of expectations.
    He spine was cowed
    and her posture demure

    The only thing
    I took from her was
    her eyes.

    The fury of her eyes
    would never diminish,
    their eternal flame
    is equal parts salvation
    and damnation.

    And so I left her
    their to wither into
    ash.
    I shed her like a
    crumpling snakeskin

    and stepped into
    the woman
    I ought to be.

    “Thanks so much for letting us all contribute, this is a wonderful idea, and just in time as autumn begins!” Cheers ~Jessi

  27. Release the world,
    The hold of its illusions
    Weighs the heart.
    Sensory deception…
    Filtered impressions
    Conditioned, react
    Like clockwork;
    Predictably bland.
    Embrace the child
    Who sleeps within,
    Forgotten emissary
    Of untramelled joy…
    Wake her to laughter
    And the dawn of Life.

    Sue Vincent.

    I love these collaborations, Neha… they highlight so much talent. Thak you 🙂

  28. I —
    Have another secret to tell you:
    That I once ran through a bookstore
    And saw an untitled book.
    I hesitated once to buy it,
    For who would even read such story?
    But still,
    I went to the counter
    Paid for it
    And told the lady
    That
    I will be extending this story
    Of you and me.
    Hoping that someday
    Our names would be on its covers.
    Our story will continue until the ink
    Blotches on the pages.
    And our story would not remain…

    Untitled.

    This is only the last part of my latest poem 🙂

  29. And it starts again
    The pitter patter
    A noise
    To break the silence
    Asking me to pick the pen
    To let go the poem

  30. Pingback: Collaboration – Letting go… | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

  31. Reblogged this on forgottenmeadows and commented:

    And here is the complete and lovely collaboration “letting go” . Thank you to all contributors who helped turn this into this beautiful poetic piece. Hope you all enjoy reading “Letting Go” and stay tuned for more collaborations soon! Have a wonderful Sunday!

  32. Reblogged this on Words for Life and commented:
    Here’s the beautiful collaboration!

  33. Hi Neha, Such a beautiful topic to write and collaborate. I saw the link on Robin’s wall. Was past the time limit by then. Shall do it next time. 🙂

  34. Beautiful, what a creative idea. Many great contributions. I’m so glad I came across this after writing about letting go.

  35. Pingback: Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a poetic collaboration – “On The Way” | forgottenmeadows

  36. Pingback: Calling all Creative Minds/Poets/Artists to a poetic collaboration – “Once more” | forgottenmeadows

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