It’s been a while since I have done one of these but thought it was a good time to do a poetic collaboration on things that make us happy. Could be a piece of toast, a beautiful day or a kind gesture…I think we need to see more of these during these times…
If you are new to my blog you can see an example of a previous collaboration via this link. Everyone is welcome to participate and I will add your contribution in the order they are posted. You can post your piece in the comment, please ensure to post the actual text not just a link in order to be considered. You can post multiple times. Hateful language will not be tolerated and will be promptly removed if posted. The collaboration will be open until 10 pm MST April 30, 2022. As usual, I will start it off, and I hope many of you will join me in making this yet another beautiful collaborative effort!
And the daydreamer, followed her dreams, in the open roads, of spring. poetry copyright neha 2022
Blossoms bend their heads in the breeze moving through this meadow.
It has been a while since I have done a collaboration … I love doing these with the poets and creative minds of this community and I hope you will all join me in this project. Please ensure to include your name and/or blog url to be included. Also, any hateful or vulgar comment will be deleted. You can add your addition in the comments and I will add each verse in the order they come in the comments. I will include your name and/or blog url after your contribution. This is great way for new and seasoned bloggers to collaborate together. If you are new to my collaborations you can see an example via this link. This will open until December 21, 2019 at which point I will close the comments. Without much further adieu, I will start us off…
When the sun rises, let dreams bloom on forgotten meadows
This is just a friendly reminder that my newest collaboration will close on June 30, 2018. Please follow this link for further instructions and post your contributions to the original piece as indicated. Comments will be closed on this post but is open in the original contribution so click on the above link. I am loving all the additions so far and hope more of you can join in!
And here is the complete collaboration…Thank you to everyone who joined ” On The Way”! Your contributions were beautiful additions that added character to this piece…Please click on original to read the entire post! 🙂
I invite you all to my brand new poetic collaboration, On The Way. You can write anything that is inspired by the prompt, I am only accepting new poetry at this time. 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 December 11, 2017 until 11:59 pm E.S.T. Thank you all! So without further…
I invite you all to my brand new poetic collaboration, On The Way. You can write anything that is inspired by the prompt, I am only accepting new poetry at this time. 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 December 11, 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!
She stumbled on sunshine that peeked through grey clouds, on the way home.
surrendering all these human shells transforming diaphanous wings flying in the massive sky towards heaven’s pristine gates distant tolling of church bells
Words sometimes get lost, on the way from Creativity, the Destinations get crossed, as Inspiration is quite finicky, but Poetry always gets the best, maybe Fantasy, and Passion, too; yet Lyrics, and Fiction take the rest, leaving Bloggers to make do, with whatever scraps they can find, to get published by the deadline, and I’m left wanting more, I know my writing isn’t Pure, it’s tainted with Pain and Misery, from a bloody Bitter history, Darkness, Agony, and Woe, follow me wherever I go, but it seems along the way, Hope and Resilience, decided to stay, which makes a difference, words are harder to find in the Light, Happiness and Joy jumble my thoughts, and I often find I miss the Night, for there, words are never at a loss, on the way from a freshly Broken heart, their structure alone can rip you apart, when they’re spewed from lips of Rage, the heat and fire burns down the stage, the audience gives standing Ovations, yet they’re so Impatient, demanding an encore, and I become a desperate whore, Lost between Pain and Love…
On the way, memories lunged from dark corners. I fought that fight with my heart – and on the way I set free brooding angels willing to leave the darkness’ sticky hold – and I saw the light shine on you, I cried when you basked in its hope and new possibilites – but you didn’t know I could see. On the way, when daylight rained down and howling, treacherous gales forced their way – I endured them. From now on we will decide where the leaves will fall, and if the sun comes again, it will shine where we say – then it will always shine, on the way… to you.
A Poem is like a walk A walk inside my mind In all its nooks and crannies where I’m storing the sunshine
Every time I revisit a corner a drop of creativity falls through The brilliant thought paves the ways and the words show me the way through
The stroll through the darkest thoughts and feelings are too scary Everyone wishes to skip the way Not the face the way the way it is
The path has its twists and turns It is easy to get lost in them Delightful as it may sound Hurt, pain, and anxiety are quietly taking shelter here
A burst of happiness and joy will sometimes pop up Gives you the relief and strength to make the journey Pluck a smile here and there And make your life a little perky.
As exhilarating as it may sound Be warned before you want to restart Are you ready to relive all the hurt and pain of the past
A walk in my mind is not so easy as it seems It allures you to enter without the feeling of being seen.
On the way I found myself I had lost myself On the way Yet when I found Myselfe again I was renewed Transformed Better than before Because sometimes When we lose oursleves We learn our way Again As we are on the way Then When we find ourslevs We are better Because we gained Wisdom and understanding On the way
Somewhere on the way between heaven and earth where life forces are shaped and destinies intertwined, two souls prepared for a mix of earth, wind and fire, bursting into a crimson helix that would become a love pure and untainted, Carefully stored away, it waited ready to be activated when eyes met and an unspoken unbreakable bond began to suddenly take shape.
On the way To another day Distracted by Words at play I wonder why On the way A new sunrises The wise advises Nothing new But still so true On the way We make friends It depends On definition Gained by repetition On the way
On the way From here to there I went astray Where the path Branched Following a thought That led to a question That invited exploration That took me down paths That carried me further And further away From where I meant To be. I got lost On the way there And found Myself in Another here.
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
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
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.
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…..
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
forgottenmeadows 