blockchainpoets Tag Posts Index

A Hundred Small Weathers

Sequestered in a corner that keeps folding into other corners, I lose myself in thoughts that no longer belong to me. They have surrendered to the wallpaper and

[Eng./Esp.] The God of Lost Negatives. || Epitafio para una mujer que insiste en no morir.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. For this first instalment, I have chosen to filter the nostalgia of the original text through the restraint

[Eng./Esp.] The Shudder of the Hollowed Queen. || El Lamento de la Piel Herida.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. Born from the unsettling vibration of a planet hollowed out for profit, these verses serve as a cold

In Another Timeline

Our eyes glazed on sand Awake at first light Interlocked in embrace Softly caressed With coffee and croissants Ran ragged on stones Excavated old bones On temples

It's fashioned.

source It's fashioned. That walkway, Each day. To recognize what is brought, And challenge the thought, The one that is bought, Then search the sought. What is wrought,

[Eng./Esp.] The Hollow Sceptre. || Trono de Barro.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. The Hollow Sceptre He walked the corridors of Whitehall, silent and grim, The heavy velvet of the state,

[Eng./Esp.] The Grain of Our Soul. || Madera de Pueblo y Barro.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. The Grain of Our Soul When the earth fractured and the concrete failed, no siren called the heroes

Then it is not a dink.

source If it is duly procedured-kind, Then it is not a dink. For that sort, Have multiple tors. For the nature exposes its name, And the elegant isn't put to be

[Eng./Esp.] Moments of Glory. || Momentos de Gloria.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. Moments of Glory They no longer wait for the engine’s final hum, it settles in the timber, in the marrow

I am sprung and in it deepened.

source I am sprung and in it deepened. Nothing much more than, To be in love with the realization plan. Knowing is a different stance, And not knowing makes vigilance.

The Age of Just Enough

There once was a time when enough was enough, the world was like a cat, curiously content claws in, purring softly it was the simple wants we carried in the way

Privileging....

source Privileging... Just like an opportunity, Somewhat of a luck in reality. For something and anything, For someone and anyone, For somewhere and anywhere. Focusing

Before dig-done.

Before dig-done. source Although it isn't in the rig, Normally, the pig swims in the swamp for the pig, For a longer period worn, As time serves the dig-done, Each

No False Love, only Deceit.

If there is something like True Love, is there False Love? I bet not. The abuse of what Love is makes us add "True" to Love. Love is Love. If there is

[Eng./Esp.] The Hearth Still Beats (Below the Glass). || Todavía arde el sol (Tras el cristal).

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. I can sense that melancholy, that emptiness within humanity, all too clearly. It is a feeling of being

B.C.G

source Belated celebratory galore. It is a simple context, Lined in the index. For we all celebrate growth in pounce, For the children that we were once. So it is

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

This is my submission for the A Picture is worth more than a thousand words prompt IDIOSYNCRASY You see food, I see poison, You see culinary artwork, I see idol

The senior man who always turns up as human.

The senior man who always turns up as human. A self-made, Evolving the world that is full of facade, So congratulations this time, With the equilibrium to balance

[Eng./Esp.] When the Sky Turns the Colour of Tin. || Cuando el cielo se pone de plomo.

Si eres de habla hispana, esta versión es para ti 👉 Español. As I navigated these waters of HIVE, like a castaway, I came across a post by my friend @palabras1

The ways of the Umpamugos.

source The ways of the Umpamugos. Is not to show itself, But to see itself. As to see, Evolves consciousness to be, And consciousness is not imaginary, Which is