Soul Writers
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إظهار المزيد1 216
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| التاريخ | نمو المشتركين | الإشارات | القنوات | |
| 08 يوليو | +2 | |||
| 07 يوليو | 0 | |||
| 06 يوليو | +2 | |||
| 05 يوليو | +1 | |||
| 04 يوليو | +2 | |||
| 03 يوليو | 0 | |||
| 02 يوليو | 0 | |||
| 01 يوليو | +1 |
منشورات القناة
I can feel my heart beating on my skin
I feel my ribs open like arms seeking your pretty name to hold within
ፈራሁ
ሲበዛ ወደድኩሽ መሰለኝ
Mithril
| 2 | When the world itself falls away from the innocence of my lips,
When my spine wishes to invite death into its essence,
When love fails to seep through my meninges,
I will burn my self at the stake for you.
So you could feel warmth, and be less hungry too. | 44 |
| 3 | I have,
(As a person who is not at all fond of)
I have had the universe melt on my tongue before,
I’ve seen the most greenest green unfurl from her palms,
I have written psalms in her name in insurmountable amounts,
I have also kissed her feet many more times than I can count.
I’ve seen her dance like candle light, lit in a dark room real late at night,
I’ve seen her paint stories with her shadows while we lay in bed, and that pretty memory refuses to lay down dead,
My only soul, still it taunts.
Yet, more than everything else, I remember still that I have kissed her feet many more times than I can count.
I have seen her pour daggers from her pretty mouth and I’ve received them with my chest bared,
I’ve licked her lips so they would not dry, hugged her tight so she would not cry, and when my turn she did not care.
I’ve immolated parts of dear old me so she would feel warm, my warlord queen, my Amazon.
I have been hurt by her silhouette, and I confess, my soul’s reprieve will not be found,
Time and time again she has drawn blood and I have fallen out of sight without a sound.
And yet, while in a sea of memories, the one bright spot that stays with me, is that I’ve kissed her feet,
Many more times than I can count. | 71 |
| 4 | ዉዴ
ብከፋኝም ራሴን አባብዬ
ብደሰትም ራሴን ችዬ
ከእለታት በአንዱ ቀን
አንተን/አንቺን አገኝ እንደሆነ ብዬ
ይሀው እኖራለሁ፣ ተስፋን ከሃዘኔ ደባልቄ
Like a cat in the wild,
Who has yet to be tamed,
I curl up in the dead branches,
hiding from the wind-oh-pains,
I strut in the dark, sniffing out mice,
Ready to dine, to add salt to my life,
I wait for submission,
As if i will not run,
As if my history doesn't show,
In the very way i walk.
My fingers itch the pen to paper,
As my mouth would paint with blood,
I am a fierce wild cat,
Waiting to be tamed.
#Penny_for_your_thoughts ? | 64 |
| 5 | I have had the universe melt on my tongue before,
I’ve seen the most greenest green unfurl from her palms,
I have written psalms in her name in insurmountable amounts,
I have also kissed her feet many more times than I can count.
I’ve seen her dance like candle light, lit in a dark room real late at night,
I’ve seen her paint stories with her shadows while we lay in bed, and that pretty memory refuses to lay down dead,
My only soul, still it taunts.
Yet, more than everything else, I remember still that I have kissed her feet many more times than I can count.
I have seen her pour daggers from her pretty mouth and I’ve received them with my chest bared,
I’ve licked her lips so they would not dry, hugged her tight so she would not cry, and when my turn she did not care.
I’ve immolated parts of dear old me so she would feel warm, my warlord queen, my Amazon.
I have been hurt by her silhouette, and I confess, my soul’s reprieve will not be found,
Time and time again she has drawn blood and I have fallen out of sight without a sound.
And yet, while in a sea of memories, the one bright spot that stays with me, is that I’ve kissed her feet,
Many more times than I can count. | 17 |
| 6 | Being grateful is a paradox.
It's said that you should be grateful for what u have, for others wish to be in your place. but then again you deep down desire things, things others have for human desire knows no limit. It's a loophole.
There is always someone in desire of what others own.
There are homeless beggars who wish for a house.
And sick dying people who wish to be healthy enough to even be able to beg
And it goes on and on
Of course be grateful for it will bring you peace of mind when hardships befall you but desire isn't so bad either. There are some of us who wish to know what they truly desire in life. Those who can't find joy in fortunate situations.
Those who can't find solace within their souls no matter how hard they try. So I guess I've to say be grateful that you have things to desire. | 128 |
| 7 | Tourte du jour
(እስክነቃ)
I saw you in a dream last night.
I think I was alone at a restaurant somewhere,
Looking out it’s frosted windows,
When I happened on the sight of you holding on to the very earth with your pretty toes,
Clawing to not float away into the nothingness above that awaits us all,
Grinning with it’s teeth sharpened and snappy,
It’s grubby hands incessantly seeking to pluck,
ከዛ እኝክ,
ከዛ ዋጥ.
Anyway,
I felt I saw your desire to mean something to someone,
So desperately so.
I haven’t figured out if that someone was you or someone else entirely though.
Regardless, I saw you garbed all in sincerity,
As much fabric of it as your soul could muster,
While still trying to fit me and all near thee into dresses made of whispers and villainy.
ግን I also dreamt that I no longer felt an imbalance within me,
Not a single fibre of muscle constricted at the thought of you floating away,
I weirdly dreamt that I had little to nothing to say.
ብቻ I dreamt,
And dreamt,
And dreamt,
While you enveloped your body with a slice of the night sky,
You were a truly beautiful sight, I promise.
But, see, I dreamt that I felt more for the thoughts of what could be that day’s pie. | 112 |
| 8 | I felt the structures buckle
I saw the momentary flash on the dashboard
My attention slowly reared its hydra-esque head towards that disturbance in the fields.
The place where it emerged is left singed.
The observers are gathered and investigating it, proding it.
Life continues, and the tape keeps winding. The sky has morphed many a times. | 93 |
| 9 | If only a moment of Calm
The metaphysical grounds are shaky
The literal grounds are shaky
The universe itself is shaky, for matter emerges out of the quantum vibrations
Do you like shakes or smoothies? Personally, I keep forgetting the difference. One has milk in it right? The other is just shook?😄
The shake is shook, we are all shook, it is a shaking.
Thanks for coming to my TedRant | 86 |
| 10 | It's my bedroom so every song fits.
For now it's Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game".
I'm sitting here wondering why you've had such an effect in my life that there is a notable before and after you. There's a precursor to all this.
I was reading encounters of a journalist for the New York times and chewing on her take about listening. She says it's active, like most of the manuals we've read about Business Communication. She elaborates further into a book. I'm on page 34 telling me I may not be a good listener though I could be a good reader.
Going back.
I think you're the only person I've properly listened to. Gathered the hems of my attention and fully sat with your words. It has cost me a lot, I won't lie. For one, I can't find it in me to hate you. I've tried. I've tried everything. You're my doe eyed awfully corny boy. I still freeze when I accidentally see you in public. I guess your features are ingraved in my mind too. I water people down to features of yours that they represent. I saw a man with your nose, another with your hands. I can't tell you any of this of course. There were times where I could tell you everything. I wanted us to be friends as a last ditch attempt to have you in my life. Oh well.
There's nothing poetic about all this. It's flat and matter of fact. I miss listening to you. | 1 |
| 11 | A lonely life
It must be a lonely, this thing we call life. If so, what a beauty it is when two universes cross each other's orbit and collide for a brief moment.
When they catch a glance at the multitude in the other, recognize humanity, and marvel on the shared experience.
Then they wonder, "Maybe we're not completely alone in our thoughts and emotions — the only things circling the orbits around the stars of our selves." | 95 |
| 12 | It's my bedroom so every song fits.
For now it's Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game".
I'm sitting here wondering why you've had such an effect in my life that there is a notable before and after you. There's a precursor to all this.
I was reading encounters of a journalist for the New York times and chewing on her take about listening. She says it's active, like most of the manuals we've read about Business Communication. She elaborates further into a book. I'm on page 34 telling me I may not be a good listener though I could be a good reader.
Going back.
I think you're the only person I've properly listened to. Gathered the hems of my attention and fully sat with your words. It has cost me a lot, I won't lie. For one, I can't find it in me to hate you. I've tried. I've tried everything. You're my doe eyed awfully corny boy. I still freeze when I accidentally see you in public. I guess your features are ingraved in my mind too. I water people down to features of yours that they represent. I saw a man with your nose, another with your hands. I can't tell you any of this of course. There were times where I could tell you everything. I wanted us to be friends as a last ditch attempt to have you in my life. Oh well.
There's nothing poetic about all this. It's flat and matter of fact. I miss listening to you. | 119 |
| 13 | "I eat here because the gravy is thick, and the waitresses call you by your first name. That's where it's at. It took me 80 years to realize it but it's where it's at."
Good (2020)
ከታክሲ ወርጄ ደጃፌ እስክደርስ ለአስር ደቂቃዎች ያህል መራመድ አለብኝ። በመንገዴ ብዙ ሱቆች፣ አንድ/ሁለት የህንጻ መሳሪያ መሸጫዎች፣ ሁለት እርጎ ቤቶች አና የተወሰኑ የመጠጥ ግሮሰሪዎችን አቋርጬ ቤቴ እገባለሁ። መቼ ለታ ያለወትሮዬ አምሽቼ ፈጠን ፈጠን እያልኩ ስራመድ አንድ ልጅ ፊት ለፊቴ መጥቶ ቆመ። ብዙ ተመክሬም ያልተወኝ መሬት መሬት እያዩ የመራመድ አመል አለብኝና የልጁን እግሮች ነው ቀድሜ ያየሁት። አንድ እርምጃ ወደኋላዬ መለስ ብዬ ቀና አልኩ። ልጁን በአይን አውቀዋለሁ። እውቀቴ ግን በመንገድ ሳልፍ አንድ ሁለቴ ሰላም ብሎኝ በአንገት ሰላምታ ምላሹን ከመስጠት የሚያልፍ ስላልሆነ በምሽት መንገዴን ዘግቶ ሲቆም ትንሽ ፈርቻለሁ።
"ደክሞኛል በናትህ አሳልፈኝ" አልኩኝ መፍራቴን እንዳያሳብቅ ደግሞም የተቆጣሁ እንዳይመስል ድምጼን ለመመጠን እየተጨነኩ።
"እሺ ትሄጃለሽ" አነጋገሩ የሰላም ይመስላል። የልብ ምቴ በጥቂቱ ተረጋጋች።
"በሰላም ነው ጸጉርሽን የተቆረጥሽው?" አለ ቀጥሎ
"እ??" አልኩት ጥያቄው ያልጠበኩት ሆኖብኝ። ሴት ነኝና ደግሞም መሽቷልና ጭንቅላቴ ደስ የማይሉ ሃሳቦች ውስጥ ነበር። ከቀናት በፊት ድንገት ተነስቼ ሰለቆረጥኩት ጸጉሬ በዛ ቅጽበት ረስቻለሁ።
"አይ ለቅሶ ምናምን ከሆነ ብዬ ነው . . . ማዘር ደህና ናቸው?" ያልሆነ ነገር እየጠየቀ እንደሆነ ተሰምቶት ሳይሆን አይቀርም ንግግሩ ፈጠን ፈጠን አለ።
ሰፈሩ ጨለም ስለሚል ለወትሮው ካመሸሁ እናቴ ወይም ወንድሞቼ ወጥተው ይቀበሉኝ ነበር። ያን ቀን ስልኬ ዘግቶ ውጡልኝ ብዬ መደወያ አጥቼ ነበር ብቻዬን ለመግባት የወሰንኩት። እና ያ ልጅ - ያ ፊቱ በፀሃይ የጠቆረ ፣ ጉንጮቹ በጉስቁልና የጎደጎዱ ፣ ጥርሶቹ በብዙ ሱሶች የበለዙ ፣ ትንፋሹ አልኮል አልኮል የሚል ፣ በኑሮው በቤቱ እልፍ ችግሮች ያሉበት የሃገሬ ልጅ የጸጉሬን ባጭር መቆረጥ ደግሞም ያለልማዴ ያለሸኚ መገኘቴን አይቶ "በሰላም ነው ወይ?" ብሎ ጠየቀኝ። መልሴን ሰምቶ ፣ ብዙም ወሬ ሳያበዛ የመጨረሻውን መጠጥ ቤት እስክናልፍ ድረስ ሸኝቶኝ ተሰናብቶኝ ተመለሰ።
እዚያ ዘመድ አለ፡፡
ሁሉም የናት ልጅ ነው፤
ሁሉም ያባት ልጅ ነው፤
ጠላትም አንዳንዴ ይመጣል መቃብር፤
ባላጋራም ቸር ነው “ያገር ልጅ” ሲቸገር፡፡
ሃገሬ (ገብረክርስቶስ ደስታ - መንገድ ስጡኝ ሰፊ)
'ቻዎ!' ብሎኝ ሲሄድ አይኖቼ እምባ ሞልተው ነበር። የሚያየኝ ሰው እንዳለ አላወኩም። ዝም ብዬ ስኖር የሚያስተውለኝ፣ በውስጡ በዝምታ የሚያስብልኝ እንዳለ አልተረዳሁም። 'ወገን መሃል መሆን ይሄ ነው!' አልኩ ለራሴ። It took me 28 years to realize it. But that's where it's at.
"ሃገሬን እወዳታለሁ!" ብል - ጋሽ ስብሃት እንዳለው ዛሬ ላይ 'የፋራ' ቢሆንም - የማወራው ስለዚህ ልጅ ነው። ስሜን ሳያውቅ፣ ዘሬን ሳይቆጥር፣ ደረጃዬን ሳይለካ ስላሰበልኝ፣ ወገኑ ስላረገኝ ሰው ስል ሃገሬን እወዳታለሁ። ድምጽ ሰለሌላቸው መተያየቶቻችን ስል ሃገሬን እወዳታለሁ። ቃላት ስለማይባክንባቸው መግባባቶቻችን ስል ሃገሬን እወዳታለሁ። እኔ እዚህ ነኝ። ነፍሴ እዚህ ናት። ሰለድሎቿ የምኮራውን ያህል ስለነውሮቿም አንገቴን እደፋለሁ። በሟች ጎን ሆና የምታለቅሰው ልቤ በገዳይ ወገን ሆና ለይቅርታ ድንጋይ ትሸከማለች። ግን በሁሉም ውስጥ ሃገሬን እወዳታለሁ። ሞኝነትም ቢመስል ደጋግሜ እላለሁ ሃገር ስለተጎሳቆለች አትጠ፟ላም - ይልቅስ ስላልተወደደች ነው የተጎሳቆለችው። | 144 |
| 14 | Maybe I do need to know my worth. And I was overestimating.
Social media has convinced me that thinking highly of myself will get me the "best" but even I don't fulfill the standards I set. I'm not as loyal as I think, not as disciplined or as sweet. And I don't feel bad at all. It just is what it is. I'm not as self aware as I'd think and I'm not harsh on myself for it. Why should I be? I won't force myself or push for more because said more comes with time spent in deliberate thought. Prolonged thought. Thoughts I'll not rush but rather let life coax out of me with age. I'll learn to be my biggest confidant and admirer not because I crave admiration from others but rather cause I'm in awe of my being. I wouldn't deserve the "best" as what truly is? But I would deserve myself, wholly, truly, in my rawest form.
I'm not there yet. My people mirror me and I don't criticize them for it. I'm sometimes an afterthought in our lives like my tangled hair and unkempt way of dressing. I get check-ins as frequently as I check-in to see how I'm doing. I am low balled and grateful as I am when I do things that are the bare minimum for myself. There is no resentment. Why should I plead to be treated in more lavish ways when I'm not lavish with myself?
This is just a phase. I don't cement anything. I'll learn to have a softer touch towards myself and it'll naturally expel those who have anything but. It's how it goes. As for now? I am where I'm meant to be till movement takes me elsewhere.
I'm happy for now, but there will be a tomorrow. | 102 |
| 15 | Like a concept
I told him I dream of doing something mindless like being a waitress and making a modest life for myself. Dreaming of nothing grand. Believing in nothing grand. Just the small miracles of smiles and sunsets and childbirth and water. Of love and sex. He wouldn't have it. He wouldn't have a woman so simple. He had delusions of sophistication to dress me in. I have tried them on before I got to him. One by one. These cloaks and masks. I had a closet full of them. Collected through the years through books and music and words of people. Dead and alive. But I have loved you see. And I have erred. I have made beautiful mistakes on purpose that left scars all over my body. I look at them and they remind me. I only know what I have lived through. And that's why I move like this now. Depouille - Bare. With no decorations. Non performative. I know the cost of it. Being true with your intentions in a performative world. But I didn't have any other options. The cloaks and masks don't fit anymore | 133 |
| 16 | I lived like a dragon,
with heaven behind my wings,
untouchable,
unshaken.
but maybe I forgot...
I am still a little thing,
with skin that can tear,
blood that can spill,
a heart that may ache
💓
@abcd03590 | 107 |
| 17 | Snippet of nothings
I have been sick for a while now. The sickness wasn't too bad but the pills I have been given for it are horrible. I get relief in the night but each morning I wake up to a continuous suffering. There's a constant feeling of irritability and nausea coupled with a horrible metallic taste in my mouth. My appetite has gone away and even when I force myself to eat something, my mind couldn't be convinced this metal tasting ball of mush is food and refuses to let me swallow it. So I dropped weight fast. With my already skinny figure the weight loss was scary. My cheeks sunk, and when I stand naked infront of my mirror I can make out all of my ribs and my hip bone. I have no energy. When ever I get up to go to the bathroom I feel lightheaded and need to find the walls with my hands. This is bad!
So, throughout the day, I lay in my bed and think. Mostly about death. I think about how it would be a relief if I were to close my eyes now and go to sleep for good. But there is music in my ears. A really good music. Beautiful melody enticing vocals one of a kind lyric. It pours into my ears like honey and gold. And I wonder if all of lifes suffering is worth it for this singular moment of perfection. | 110 |
| 18 | When the night comes, I drown in my sorrows and I think about all the nights that I could've borrowed.
For one more minute, one more time.
It eats me alive, the feelings in my ribs like I'm in that very moment like they're all in her lips.
Is it fair to feel or is fairness just a facade? I do not know, perhaps it's all in my heart. The memories and the nights, they're all she left me with. Just longing, starving, aching for one more day with the beauty in the night. | 115 |
| 19 | The 2 kinds of people
You'll ever really interact with two kinds of people.
One, when talking to you, addresses you at a deeper level, your essence; the orb of unfathomable divinity and consciousness nestled within your chest.
One, when talking to you, addresses the many layers that are stacked on you; your name, your race, your build, your background, your demeanour.
I like to believe all things serve a purpose; the brain likes to be efficient and it will usually default to stereotypes and judgements, doing the alternative requires still deeper reckoning. All to say, I get the latter group.
@virtualmatter | 124 |
| 20 | A Series of Serendipitous Events
I had long since started heavily relying on alarms. I had grown tired and disgusted by being reckless about commitments. So I slowly cultivated the habit of alarming nearly every, commitment.
I had set my alarm for checking on the electricity meter, then forgot to do it.... When even safeguards fail to guard you against your incompetences....
Lo and behold, the power went out. So I went out to the neighborhood and bought some bread and then saw a dog unsuredly walking into a buoy. Moments later, I heard some people yell at him (I don't like calling animals it) to get right out.
Musing at dog shenanigans is one of my favorite pastimes, and so I stood there for a minute longer just looking at the scene.
Then appeared this person of interest, right before my eyes. This was a person whom I had crossed paths with and sensed some hostility from a while back. He was intoxicated and said, " Hey you with the glasses." My default with anyone is friendliness so I was glad to talk to a stranger, said hey back. He went on to take out his ear phone and hand me one of them and said, " እንደራሴ ስለማይህ ነው።"
I replied, "እንደራስህ ስላየሀኝ አመሰግናለው።" He was listening to reggae, the jovial kind. A little at odds with the late hour, might I add.
Before he went on his way, he said "ፀልይልኝ"
This, this confirmed to me that, people who appear hostile are usually going through inner turmoil. This is what I imagined was the case even when we crossed paths and I sensed that tension.
At the end of it all, my breach of policy in not executing on my task led to a rather profound encounter with an individual whom I would've otherwise regarded as unpleasant.
The trajectory of life is quite haphazard.
@virtualmatter | 165 |
