Spoken Word

Resolute Resilience

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From the depths of despair… she rose, a phoenix of strength…

Her spirit ignited, blazing with the flames of resilience…

In the face of adversity, she refused to falter…

Her steps, once hesitant, now danced with purpose…

Each stumble… a stepping stone to greater heights…

Scars became badges of honor… testaments to her unyielding spirit…

No longer defined by the past, she dared to dream…

In her triumph, she inspired others to soar…

A resolute resilience, painting the world with her indomitable spirit…

With every breath… she defied the odds…

Embracing the journey of overcoming, she found her truest self…

Forever shining with the fire of possibility…

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΅〜  ೋ ♥ ೋ 〜΅

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If you would like me to read this to you…

Epiphany…

 

 

I see how different words are bestowed with a sublime radiance of varying hues of color…
Emotional gradation…

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I observe my palette of words very carefully…
One mustn’t rush…

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Slowly I begin to paint…first one then another…
I step back and look at the revealing of this new painting…
This creation of words blending into something wondrous…
Something hitherto unknown…

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Time passes…

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I look again…
I close my eyes…

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I feel the tumultuous gathering…
The machinations of my senses coalescing into words…

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Their birth a beautiful rendition of everything combining at once…
As if time has no meaning here…
Past, present, future collide into my Phantasmagoric Dreamscape…
Joining…rejoining…connecting…
Locking together as though they already know how they are to combine…
As if they each have their own purpose, thought, desire…
To be seen, read, understood…

΅〜 ೋღ ❁ ღೋ 〜΅

Epiphany…
Am I their painter…
Or are they mine?

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΅~ ೋ ♥ ೋ ~΅

If you would like me to read this to you…

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΅~ ೋ ♥ ೋ ~΅

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I thought it would be fun to revisit a previously posted poem…only with me reading it this time.

I hope you enjoy it! ~

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Share the Blog Love…

Alchemical Prose…

Reconstructing Christina
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.To the writers who beguile me with their prose prowess…
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΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅
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Wield your words just so…
Ignite my Intrigue…
Captivate my curiosity…
Luring my imagination to undiscovered realms…
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Enchant me…
Entice my devotion…
Your alchemical prose alluding, evocative…
Pleasure or pain…
We journey to both, through both… together…
Fascinate my imagination with your literary fusion…
And I will spend my minutes with you…
For your magical words, your spell.
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Do the impossible task of creating fire…in my mind, incendiary.
Introduce me to your magical working…
Evoke sensate thought, synesthesia…
Slip inside my dreams…
Conjure a mysterious world separate and apart from the mundane…
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Adventure through kaleidoscopic emotions…
Powerful, strange, surreal…
Fates foretold, secrets disclosed…
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Inside out, upside down, the other way round…
Dance me through your words…
Spinning… spinning… spinning….
Leave me breathless…
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And then…
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Evanesce…as all the best dreams do…
only able to exist within the confines of my mind,
Filtering through my thoughts, feelings, dreams, perspectives…
Affecting them…
Transmutation…
As your locution becomes…
My alchemical prose…
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΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅
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If you would like me to read this to you…
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΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅
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    Christina 〜
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Perspectives’ Prism…

Perspectives' PrismA vast plethora of varying variables…
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     Mine…
              Yours…
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Arbitrary perceptual perspective…
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     When your perceptions become the subconscious mechanism of your every reaction…
     In which you presuppose what a situation or thing, a reaction, will be before you are in the moment of happening.
     You are then bringing the future to the present, not the true future, only your perspective of what it will be… before it can be anything. This moment when observed in its raw, open, transparent state, using all of your senses…  is malleable.
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     Two distinct perspectives. Which holds truth? Or is it merely a compromise between us both? Who argues the loudest, reacts violently…in words, action, or deed? Is that the one who holds the truth?
     In the simple action of allowing one beat of a breath before accepting or rejecting this moment as it is, without your assignation of your past biases…filtering what it could be, with what you assume it to be….masking the true moment.
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Life then, becomes Perspectives’ prism…
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΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅
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If you would like me to read this to you…
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΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅
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    Christina 〜

΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅

Moments of Me…

Melancholy ebrusidarportrait deviantart
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In all of the moments before I cannot be…
It is now.
This moment.
This breath…
That holds Life’s essence, vitality.
The moments before…
sprinkled through time…
are only echoes
of what was once a part of me.
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  Each echo of a moment holds its own unique resonance,
reverberating for always within me.
Some, bring effervescent happiness and joy…
Some, elicit the fervent wish for the power to negate their existence…
Some, carry eclipsing darkness…searing…
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   At times, they are so impossibly loud it seems I cannot bear it…
but then…
I recognize they are only here affecting me,  unrelentingly, …
because I have not let them go.
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 These are my moments’ echoes…
Moments of me…
With the deep breath of my intent…
I set them free.
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΅〜  ೋღ  ♥  ღೋ 〜΅
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΅〜  ೋღ  ♥  ღೋ 〜΅
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.  Christina 〜

΅〜  ೋღ ♥ ღೋ 〜΅