Tag: poet

Leave a comment

The Unyielding Persistence of Love

beatrizesmer

In the vast expanse of the cosmos, I scattered the essence of my being, my soul, like stardust strewn across the galaxy. I cast my heart, the core of my emotions, into the depths of the sea, surrendering it to the ebb and flow of the tides. I sought refuge within myself, hiding in the labyrinth of my thoughts and feelings, yet Love, with its relentless pursuit, found its way back to me. I have voiced a symphony of battle cries, each note echoing my courage and determination. I have unleashed a torrent of screams, each one a testament to … Continue reading The Unyielding Persistence of Love

Leave a comment

Rules

beatrizesmer

Once upon a time, I was a prisoner of my own creation, bound by the chains of rules and regulations. I used to have rules about poetry, a world where words danced to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I counted in line, time, meter, and form, each syllable a steppingstone, each line a journey, each poem a universe unto itself. I was a puppeteer of language, fingering syllables and forking tongues, weaving tapestries of emotion and thought with the threads of words. I used to have rules about love, a labyrinth of do’s and don’ts that dictated the rhythm of … Continue reading Rules

Leave a comment

Like The Tide

beatrizesmer

In the mess of my thoughts, I stumbled upon an open book, its pages as blank as the canvas of a yet-to-be-painted masterpiece. Within its untouched expanse, I saw the perfect silhouette of an airplane, a phantom etched in the parchment, a surreal dream cradled within the confines of reality. The clouds, those ethereal guardians of the sky, heaved with the weight of unshed rain, parting reluctantly to reveal a place, a center, a wish. It was a sanctuary, a haven where I gathered the musky scents of forgotten memories and remnants of clothes strewn across the floor. In the … Continue reading Like The Tide

Leave a comment

A Poem, A Song, A Story

beatrizesmer

Deep in my heart, I feel regret, a heaviness that has seeped into my days. I’ve worn it like a cloak, a weight that has tethered me to the earth, pulling me from the sky in a relentless downpour. These are the days where names have lost their meaning, where the echo of my own seems to fade into the background. But amidst this melancholy, spring has arrived, a season that I’ve always claimed as my own. It has brought with it a blooming, a sudden burst of color that has taken me by surprise. It’s an invitation, an opportunity … Continue reading A Poem, A Song, A Story

Leave a comment

The Poetic Universe

beatrizesmer

In the land of a poem, time is but an illusion, a mere specter that holds no sway. It is a place where the chasm between hunger and its satisfaction is non-existent, where the line separating joy from sorrow is blurred. It is a sanctuary where I can reach out to you, in a manner more profound than the mere touch of skin. You can trace your fingers along the contours of my verses, feel the weight of my thoughts as they rise and fall with the rhythm of my heartbeat. It’s a dance of words and emotions, a ballet … Continue reading The Poetic Universe

Leave a comment

The Birth of Art in Adversity

beatrizesmer

Art, my dear, is not a privilege bestowed upon the fortunate, nurtured in the cradle of affluence, nor is it the offspring of tender mothers and doting fathers. It is the phoenix that rises from the ashes of hardship, birthed in the narrow lanes of ghettos, in the heart of favelas, amidst the stark nakedness of poverty. Art does not discriminate. It does not segregate based on the color of one’s skin, the race they belong to, or the creed they adhere to. It is a generous spirit, a universal language that speaks to all, transcending man-made boundaries and biases. … Continue reading The Birth of Art in Adversity

Leave a comment

A Simple Reminder

beatrizesmer

Deep in your soul, you’ll discover a truth that’s as profound as it is simple: you are your own sanctuary. Yes, you can seek solace in the warmth of another’s embrace, intertwine your fingers with theirs, but the echo of loneliness cannot be silenced by mere physical presence. An empty house remains empty, no matter how many guests you invite, if the owner never returns. Sometimes, the hero of your story is you. There will be mornings when you’ll rise from your bed, your heart heavy as a stone sinking into the ocean’s depths. Yet, your legs will not falter, … Continue reading A Simple Reminder

Leave a comment

Tears…

beatrizesmer

Tears that streamed down my cheeks and vanished abruptly on my lips. I wept for the first time in my youth, on the initial day of detachment from beloved ones, in my teenage years, for the first love’s deceit… for the initial blemish on my face. Subsequently, I refined my weeping. I shed tears for hatred, disillusionment, disappointment, despair, agony, fear, and yearning! I also chuckled, enchanted, and elated. I wept out of loathing for those who mercilessly perpetrate atrocities against our kin. I sobbed in disillusionment and disappointment at those who maliciously betrayed my trust and all the love … Continue reading Tears…

1 Comment

The Bridge of Laughter and Tears

beatrizesmer

In the quiet hours of our shared existence, we dream of a bridge—a fragile span woven from laughter and tears. It is not a bridge of stone or steel, but of ephemeral moments that bind us. One day, we will laugh until our bellies ache, our eyes crinkling at the corners. Our laughter will echo across the chasm, filling the void with joy. We’ll share secrets, silly jokes, and memories—the kind that linger like the scent of rain on warm earth. And then, when the world turns somber, we’ll cry. Not the quiet tears of solitude, but the kind that … Continue reading The Bridge of Laughter and Tears

Leave a comment

The Imprints of Human Connection

beatrizesmer

I want to write about the language of touch, the silent conversations held in the clasp of hands, the secrets whispered through fingertips. I want to write about the way a mother’s hand can soothe a child, the way a lover’s touch can ignite a spark, the way a friend’s comforting pat can ease a burden. I want to write about the domestic dance of marriage, the rhythm of routine, the melody of shared moments. I want to explore the growing void that can creep into the most intimate of spaces, the separate beds in a shared room, the unspoken … Continue reading The Imprints of Human Connection