Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
This isn't going to be only poetry; the thread will contain any and all short writings Kuro needs a place to post. The next post will contain the first of them.
Poetry Insightful writings by Kuro
- Thread starter Kurotsuki
- Start date
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
The identity we choose for ourselves
should not be a burden,
nor a subject of unnecessary conflict.
However, if society so chooses or evolves
to perceive certain forms of self-expression
as unnatural, unholy, or untrustworthy,
those defiantly labelling themselves
will gladly carry that burden atop their shoulders.
Uncaring if it weighs them down,
unwavering in the face of harsh scrutiny, and
unwilling to surrender the validity of their humanity,
they denounce prejudice, and seek to educate
those who are uncertain of the meaning
behind the spectrum of identities gaining popularity.
Carrying this weight even family adds upon them,
they climb the ladder of future,
one rung at a time. Little by little
making progress towards a better life for themselves
and the coming generations.
They do not return hate,
as fighting fire with fire only adds to the blaze.
Instead, they stand clear of the dumpster fire
that is controversy over this particular subject,
knowing it'll run low on fuel eventually.
The fire will never go out entirely,
but will shrink as time goes by,
and as long as it reaches a manageable size
most can be content with avoiding the embers.
Every human should be free to live as they wish,
as the history of this country
granted each person unalienable rights and freedoms
they've been made afraid to act on.
The law cannot stop us from being ourselves,
so everyone, stand tall, stand proud
and carry that burden, drawing strength from hope!
Hope that in the future,
it will be a burden no more.
should not be a burden,
nor a subject of unnecessary conflict.
However, if society so chooses or evolves
to perceive certain forms of self-expression
as unnatural, unholy, or untrustworthy,
those defiantly labelling themselves
will gladly carry that burden atop their shoulders.
Uncaring if it weighs them down,
unwavering in the face of harsh scrutiny, and
unwilling to surrender the validity of their humanity,
they denounce prejudice, and seek to educate
those who are uncertain of the meaning
behind the spectrum of identities gaining popularity.
Carrying this weight even family adds upon them,
they climb the ladder of future,
one rung at a time. Little by little
making progress towards a better life for themselves
and the coming generations.
They do not return hate,
as fighting fire with fire only adds to the blaze.
Instead, they stand clear of the dumpster fire
that is controversy over this particular subject,
knowing it'll run low on fuel eventually.
The fire will never go out entirely,
but will shrink as time goes by,
and as long as it reaches a manageable size
most can be content with avoiding the embers.
Every human should be free to live as they wish,
as the history of this country
granted each person unalienable rights and freedoms
they've been made afraid to act on.
The law cannot stop us from being ourselves,
so everyone, stand tall, stand proud
and carry that burden, drawing strength from hope!
Hope that in the future,
it will be a burden no more.
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
"Everyone should be shown respect, excepting only he who challenges others' humanity with bias as his sole proof, or defends his own with preconceived delusions of superiority in status, race, sex, wealth, or otherwise; he who shows no respect towards those different from himself." - Kuro, 2020
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
Emotions - basic, essential human emotions! -
shouldn't feel so alien.
But now that my heart is flooded with them,
they begin to overtake logic.
Logic, without which
I have never before been able to function.
Feeling things from still images,
or words that have no meaning
besides those we believe them to have,
is so unbelievable, it's almost hysterical.
And yet, I can pinpoint the time
where apathy finally gave way
to empathy.
Most are used to happiness,
and laugh at or pity
those who never get to feel it for themselves.
And most despise pain, fear it,
therefore becoming fascinated
with those who are used to it,
not realizing it's a two-sided coin.
It always has been.
Clearly I'm a part of the latter group.
A person who, until now,
has been living without joy or fulfillment:
only fleeting, empty pleasures.
How long, I wonder, will this mania last,
now that I've felt content with my life
for the first time?
shouldn't feel so alien.
But now that my heart is flooded with them,
they begin to overtake logic.
Logic, without which
I have never before been able to function.
Feeling things from still images,
or words that have no meaning
besides those we believe them to have,
is so unbelievable, it's almost hysterical.
And yet, I can pinpoint the time
where apathy finally gave way
to empathy.
Most are used to happiness,
and laugh at or pity
those who never get to feel it for themselves.
And most despise pain, fear it,
therefore becoming fascinated
with those who are used to it,
not realizing it's a two-sided coin.
It always has been.
Clearly I'm a part of the latter group.
A person who, until now,
has been living without joy or fulfillment:
only fleeting, empty pleasures.
How long, I wonder, will this mania last,
now that I've felt content with my life
for the first time?
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
I can feel it in my heart;
a quiet voice,
a dying flame.
And yet as these days go on
everything remains
the same.
I’m not asking for happiness,
acceptance,
nor your praise.
I only want my voice
to be heard:
this silent scream.
Echoing through the night,
sirens blaring
under a bloodred sky,
screaming into a broken megaphone,
crying all alone
face resembling a dewy rose.
Like a flower in a flood,
drowning in the very thing
that gives me life -
the simple people exhaling
the poison more
complex people breathe to survive.
A heartbeat accelerating,
a raspy voice
desperately singing their lament.
Each and every note
a drop of blood
from someone who always undershot
the boundaries, never pushing
themselves to see
just how far they could go.
Yet another talent wasted,
the timeline changing
from the lack of change itself.
In the end, it’s our actions
that determine
who we are, more than our words.
After all, anyone can lie
about themselves
or their achievements if they wish.
Blocking out the memories
of all the times
they found themselves acting a fool,
treasuring all of the wrong things
in life, a life
that is never understood.
a quiet voice,
a dying flame.
And yet as these days go on
everything remains
the same.
I’m not asking for happiness,
acceptance,
nor your praise.
I only want my voice
to be heard:
this silent scream.
Echoing through the night,
sirens blaring
under a bloodred sky,
screaming into a broken megaphone,
crying all alone
face resembling a dewy rose.
Like a flower in a flood,
drowning in the very thing
that gives me life -
the simple people exhaling
the poison more
complex people breathe to survive.
A heartbeat accelerating,
a raspy voice
desperately singing their lament.
Each and every note
a drop of blood
from someone who always undershot
the boundaries, never pushing
themselves to see
just how far they could go.
Yet another talent wasted,
the timeline changing
from the lack of change itself.
In the end, it’s our actions
that determine
who we are, more than our words.
After all, anyone can lie
about themselves
or their achievements if they wish.
Blocking out the memories
of all the times
they found themselves acting a fool,
treasuring all of the wrong things
in life, a life
that is never understood.
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
Raindrops fall, melting everything away
like the dripping remains of a wax doll.
The candlelight flickers, a lost soul echoes
bathing the night in their amber glow.
A drop of blood from the tip of a silver knife
stains the petals of a rose from the purest white
to a maddening crimson bright as the flames
consuming Tomorrow and Yesterday.
A blood-soaked sunset at the resolution
of a sleepless night, burning the sky,
with tendrils of smoke vanishing in the ether.
The sky too, was stained, as was I.
like the dripping remains of a wax doll.
The candlelight flickers, a lost soul echoes
bathing the night in their amber glow.
A drop of blood from the tip of a silver knife
stains the petals of a rose from the purest white
to a maddening crimson bright as the flames
consuming Tomorrow and Yesterday.
A blood-soaked sunset at the resolution
of a sleepless night, burning the sky,
with tendrils of smoke vanishing in the ether.
The sky too, was stained, as was I.
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
The blue-green hue of the future
washes over everything in sight,
meeting the past's warm glow
at a boundary of blinding white.
The amber sky of past, however,
drops off into pitch-black nothingness
where the memories obscured by time
are drawn in and forgotten;
while the clear blue sky of future
extends endlessly ahead
dotted with grey clouds of opportunity,
raining mistakes and missteps.
Storms like this have passed before,
on the road of the journey called life
they are unavoidable.
So it’s useless to try
to evade the consequences of past
as the future continues approaching.
The road stretches far into the distance,
but that golden horizon can be reached someday.
Gold. Amber. The flickering of a candle.
The colours of past
and the colours of nostalgia.
Familiarity draws you towards
that golden horizon,
more than the blue-green glow
hiding behind it.
A sunset of crimson
with streaks of soft orange,
and emerald green fields
with violet flowers of fortune,
a sapphire blue sea
meeting the dusk sky,
as far as you can see,
at that golden horizon line.
washes over everything in sight,
meeting the past's warm glow
at a boundary of blinding white.
The amber sky of past, however,
drops off into pitch-black nothingness
where the memories obscured by time
are drawn in and forgotten;
while the clear blue sky of future
extends endlessly ahead
dotted with grey clouds of opportunity,
raining mistakes and missteps.
Storms like this have passed before,
on the road of the journey called life
they are unavoidable.
So it’s useless to try
to evade the consequences of past
as the future continues approaching.
The road stretches far into the distance,
but that golden horizon can be reached someday.
Gold. Amber. The flickering of a candle.
The colours of past
and the colours of nostalgia.
Familiarity draws you towards
that golden horizon,
more than the blue-green glow
hiding behind it.
A sunset of crimson
with streaks of soft orange,
and emerald green fields
with violet flowers of fortune,
a sapphire blue sea
meeting the dusk sky,
as far as you can see,
at that golden horizon line.
Kurotsuki
One body, many minds
Delicate wisps of clouds drift across the striking yet gentle ether
Light as feathers shed from angels' wings, lining the heavens so deftly
As if God himself took his finest brush, making deliberately haphazard strokes
Across the great blue expanse of canvas He draped over our world.
Evening arrives and His artistry increases tenfold,
Dousing His great canvas in a brilliant pallette of warm hues
The furious ball of flame falling behind the horizon, out of sight
And with it, taking the day's remaining light.
Feeding the nyctophilics' soul, He drowns the canvas again in indigo,
Darkness falling across the little planet He designed long ago
Coating His brush in white again to scatter stars across the night
The wisps of clouds return, shedding drops of pure moonlight.
Light as feathers shed from angels' wings, lining the heavens so deftly
As if God himself took his finest brush, making deliberately haphazard strokes
Across the great blue expanse of canvas He draped over our world.
Evening arrives and His artistry increases tenfold,
Dousing His great canvas in a brilliant pallette of warm hues
The furious ball of flame falling behind the horizon, out of sight
And with it, taking the day's remaining light.
Feeding the nyctophilics' soul, He drowns the canvas again in indigo,
Darkness falling across the little planet He designed long ago
Coating His brush in white again to scatter stars across the night
The wisps of clouds return, shedding drops of pure moonlight.
