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Greetings and Salutations to fellow Wordsmiths. I've been having a lot happen to me lately, so not much time spend on the site.

Here is a new work I am messing around with.
 Back at it again  (ASR)
Ramblings of addiction
#2270295 by Sherasi
If you would, can you leave a bit of feedback?
I've been working on my poetry and art website. The web address is:

I got exposed to Covid-19 so my whole family had to go into quarantine. I wrote a poem to 'celebrate' that exposure.

I feel ridiculous, standing here
with a Q-tip swabbing up my nose.
I feel demoralized, standing here
with a surgical mask over my face.
I feel isolated, sitting here
not allowed to leave my house.
I feel horror, that we can be so manipulated
and imprisoned within our fear.
But mostly,
I feel regret, for the loss
of our innocence, taken by the government.
I've been trying to put into words how I feel in situations being On the Spectrum (autistic).

How an autistic feel in crowds  (E)
Sensory overload for autistic people
#2265855 by Sherasi

Also, I painted a new painting that expresses how alone I feel, isolated at times.

You can see it in my portfolio.
How an autistic feel in crowds  (E)
Sensory overload for autistic people
#2265855 by Sherasi
I read a poem of death and thought, "I wonder if I could do that!?"

"The lights are flashing, I cannot see
The sounds are roaring like the sea

My life is flashing before my eyes
In the *recap I shiver, I'm in the *Bise

The cold North winds wail; take a toll
Plunging through and across my soul

With the Horsemen here rides Death
his bony hands steal my Last breath."

Lines: 8
WC: 57

*Recap: noun: a life review
*Bise: noun: a dry cold north wind in southeastern France
Bearing into the Shrouds  (E)
Death comes gently unto the night
#2265812 by Sherasi

The Chinook

It begins as usual, softly and without fuss,

a slight elevation of temperature,

the breaking of ice

Chinook arrives

bringing with it the faint tang of spring.

It is more a taste than a smell, sharper

you feel brighter and more energetic for no apparent reason.

Late snows melt almost as they soon as they come,

daffadils peek through the silken white blanket

children giggle as they see the flowers

they become soaking wet, hustled into a bath by mom

to prevent a chill with Spring coming.
  •   1 comment
This is a great poem, Sherasi. It's filled with hope.

Recent days, in my part of the country, have been days of intense cold compared to traditional winters. These thoughts of daffodils, of which I have a few in my yard, and hints of the coming thaw, are comforting.

Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Scale the scale  (E)
Gluttony and the results
#2265321 by Sherasi

Snow and Ice Messes  (E)
Yucky winter
#2265338 by Sherasi

Cooking the Books  (E)
Poor Money management
#2265320 by Sherasi

Some of my newer poetry: :)
I've been doing some emotional exploring, often to my detriment.

Appetites within and without

I observe myself in the mirror of my soul
In those merciless eyes I perceive myself
a whithering bulk of morbidity, of gluttony
pasty white flesh tumbles and drapes
like window dressings of wanton appetite
with an obvious insufficiency of self-control.

This condition meant little to me, previously,
preoccupations greater than corporeal status
have directed my thoughts and emotions.
Exploration of anger, fear and, pain paramount,
needs within needs proliferate and flourish.

Expanding my consciousness, maturity and acceptance
reveal underlying essential demand for mending.
Abuse and loss flavor my past, challenges
continue to abound in the infirmity of my soul.
I see the requisite direction but also recognize
the external manifestation of my inner turmoil.

The passage of time allows me to observe
these indications of change within and without.
Battles waged, all suffer but surcease is at hand.
I feel little indignation in my physical self,
I recognize the need to placate feelings by cravings.
Now is the time, to put aside these disturbing
emotions and focus on concrete reality.

And I do.

Form: freeform
lines: 25
WC: 174

  •   1 comment
Sherasi This is a very deep piece of writing. I loved reading it through. Just keep smiling my dear, smiles are always returned. Soul searching for me always ends up in a spiritual war between self respect and honour. Life goes on, be kind to yourself.
The Reason for the Season

Once upon a desert night
a man and girl did travel
pain upon the pale moist face
her countenance did make clear
a manger was the birthplace
but no one said a grumble
In that simple place; a King was born
It was God's own beloved Son
She can be a young woman if you want to change cultural history. The fact is, she was a girl.
I thank you Ann for your input, but she was a girl because they married young enough to live long enough to have children before they died. That style of marriage and life exists today as well.
Nice poem, Sherasi. Great message. The Savior, Jesus, the Christ is the best of all Gifts. Blessings. *Smile*
I'm not sure what Autism is.
But, thanks for the positive review!

Bob County
  •   1 comment
My mom was very moody.
Is that Autism?

Just curious.

Bob County
*Delight* Yay! Welcome to "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group. Looking forward to your review magics! *Wand*
I've been reading "Read & Review" for a couple of hours today. There was an interesting mix of short stories and poetry randomly generated for me. I've been entering "Express it in EIGHT" poetry. Here is one:

Every night I seek to sleep
I often try by counting sheep
warm milk I drink to no avail
I read books but still, I fail
hots drinks are good, I love my tea
but into sleep, I want to flee
pasty skin, I look like a hag
in the morning, I'll use a bag
Having some writers block *Geek*
  •   1 comment
Been there, too. Corner of "Which twist?" and "Which character?", right?
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