the first home and all that came after held the point of origin a single cell and the rest were replicated multiplied beyond recognition though they don’t exist inside I carry them faces; frames given by my father and mother I’ve split them all apart and scattered them into the sea I saw the sea torch the sky I saw the wind make the trees kneel streetlamps resembling trembling embers the night creeps in like a cat and the morning stretches and yawns after the fireflies turn back into stars life always tends to move on taking in everything I could be I carried it in myself In every hereafter and after

//everything I can be by: alec prado// //Photo Courtesy of: Thomashavlik on Instagram//

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

The Poet’s World

To the poet, this world is both light and darkness.

I am at the center becoming meaning and laughter.

My hope for the living tells me to still persevere

saying I’ve been grasping at straws while clues are here.

The poet’s desire to hoard everything 

is making me mad with insatiable rancors.

This greed is spilling into my quickening.

I’m pregnant with poems heavy like anchors.

Teach me to let go so that when I am

under the spell I can still remember

poetry is so healing, humane, and majestic.

We are poets in a world, a living ember,

to decipher with love, not with a yardstick.

Unobtainable, we try anyways.

______________________________

Alejandro Fabian

Thank you @sonreyes-poetry for the opportunity to collaborate.

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

Tagging my main here with this one too... To the poet, this world is constant adventure, through words, each edge explored. I'm at the center becoming me again. My soul tells me, there is more, there is more Saying I've been grasping at haystacks, every handful falling through my fingers The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me my heart beat fast This greed is spilling into my chest, I want more, I know there is more Thoughts weighing in my mind so heavy, like anchors, I sink inside Teach me how to let go so that when I become my own I can feel the release, I know there is more Poetry is so complicated, yet so raw and majestic. We are poets in this world, finding constant adventure. What may be unobtainable, we try anyways

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

This universe is fire and light, galaxies of constellations. At the core is life. Flora and fauna. Emotions and spiritual energy. Enchantment amidst darkness. We attempt to interpret. Grab at straws for understanding. Hold onto unimportant stuff far too long. Swirl in circling circles - vacillating between fear and greed. Wings in need of major clipping before we can ever fly - take to the sky. Poet pilots. Creative spirits. Artists on the periphery of anonymity. Torch carriers headed to the dark side of the moon.

That's my attempt ^ to add to your words. Appreciate the question and opportunity. I always love impromptu throw downs!!

Hugs you !!

@followcb @sonreyes

.

the subtle urge

a innocent little scratch  an unconscious action the potential menace unseen

feeding a growing hunger My claws grow sharper Knife blades grow from my finger tips As i scrape deeper and deeper for less relief

And The Itch Spreads until i start trying to rip my skin off with my claws I want to climb out of it I Know I’ll just send it out to the dry cleaner have it cleaned and reconditioned have the itch removed

before I put it back on.

.

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

@sonreyes thanks for the opportunity to collaborate. Such sublime words, and such superb responses! Here’s mine…

To the poet, this world is too much, yet never enough. I'm at the center becoming supernova – burning, yearning. My inner demons tell me to give up. Saying I've been grasping at thoughts unnamable words beyond reach. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me earthbound. This greed is spilling into my inkwell. My quills heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I write I can defy gravity, glimpse a higher plane. Poetry is so transcendent and majestic. We are poets in a world desperate for nirvana. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

–Alec Prado / SJM

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

I'd love to collab! Here we go:

To the poet, this world is another form of art. I'm at the center of becoming an universe on my own. My heart tells me not to give up or give in, Saying I've been grasping at slippery shadows. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me selfish and dark, instead of becoming what I desire. This greed is spilling into my very soul and it aches.

This desperate huger and greed of mine are heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I transform myself I can be able to take flight. Poetry is so uniquely ours and majestic. We are poets in a world that needs it.

Unobtainable, we try anyways.

An honor to work with you @sonreyes

To the poet, this world is rich earth, root deep. I'm at the center of becoming, and listlessly fallow. My old   self tells me run, do not stay here, where words are planted deep. Says I'm grasping at autumn’s falling lines, without hope of a second stanza.

But the poet's desire to hoard everything makes my roots unfurl, hungrily seeking richer earth. This greed is spilling into coming winter, and snow-bowed words, like anchors. Teach me how to let go, so that when I sleep, deep in these furrowed fields, I can be a poet again.

Poetry is so strangely deep, yet majestic. We are poets in a world untapped by our own roots. Unobtainable, we try—

anyways

~~~~~

prompt: @sonreyes

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [  ]. I'm at the center becoming [  ]. My [  ] tell(s) me [  ]. Saying I've been grasping at [  ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [  ]. This greed is spilling into my [  ]. [  ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [  ] I can [  ]. Poetry is so [  ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [  ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

--prompt from @sonreyes

To this poet, this world is a crystal ball, overflowing with smoke and obscuring the beauty inside. I'm at the center becoming an ember to an eternal flame; my conscience tells me to stop trying in another language, saying I've been grasping at hope for far too long.

The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me cut my hands on wilted roses. This greed is spilling onto my arms and dripping onto my sneakers; leaving my sins clamped onto my arms, heavy like anchors.

Teach me how to let go so that when I depart this world, only my words will be imprinted on the earth's canvas.

Poetry is so horrifying and majestic. We are poets in a world which turns itself anew not through cherry blossoms and birdsong, but through rivers of lava and newborn continents which only provide promises of paradise.

Unobtainable, we try anyways... --Alec Prado/Elda Mengisto

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

To the poet this world is a big beautiful sky

I'm at the center becoming a dreamer, forgetting all logic

My mind tells me to find a way back down,

Saying I've been grasping at possibilities so far from reaching reality

The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me seem like a lunatic,

This greed is spilling into my actions

My body turning exhausted, legs heavy like anchors

Teach me how to let go so that when I want to rest and restore, I can simply do so

Poetry is so memorable and majestic,

We are poets in a world trying to hide expression, weaving hopes for so many things

Unobtainable, we try anyways.

@sonreyes thank you for the collab

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

@sonreyes Heyy, hope so you are doing great. THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending me this and for giving me the opportunity to collaborate with you.

– WE TRY ANYWAYS|

To the poet, this world is falling apart.

I'm at the center of the sea and drowning and becoming like water.

My imagination tells me I have been grasping at wrong desires and wrong things.

The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me restless.

This greed is spilling into my blood and soul.

Grief heavy like anchors.

Teach me how to let go so that when I stop drowning I can do what I want.

Peotry is so beautiful, healing and majestic.

We are poets in a world which is falling apart.

Unobtainable, we try anyways.

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

@sonreyes Thanks for the ask!

To the poet, this world is a labyrinth betwixt the sun and moon wandering shades. I'm at the center becoming the primal form of a deep-rooted enigma. My beating heart tells me that I still possess humanity, but the whispering shadows taunt me. Saying I've been grasping at fate with barbaric snags while trekking infinite peril from which I may never egress. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me further traverse this unforeseen abyss, hungrily gathering up every notion en route. This greed is spilling into my veins delicately purifying an avarice dose. Balancing out threadless light meandering the dark weighing down on my psyche heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I unwind the chasm's tiers I can exhibit tremendous wisdom. Poetry is so invigorating breathing life into words, dispersing expressions boundless and majestic. We are poets in a world amid an illusion where thoughts can be assembled onto a canvas submitting great pain and pleasure as we try to reach the zenith of the maze. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

To the poet, this world is redemption I’m at the center becoming the bleed My darling tells me to pay attention Saying I’ve been grasping at demons to feed. The poet’s desire to hoard everything is Making me struggle in rancor. This greed is spilling into my own fire, My desire, heavy as anchors. Teach me how to let go, So that when I cut myself short I can grow. Poetry is so morbid and majestic, Another way to navigate the world when you’re a skeptic. We are poets in a world of hungry arrays. Unobtainable, we try anyways. Prompt by @sonreyes

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

@sonreyes-poetry @sonreyes

To the poet this world is like a fantasy.

I’m at the center becoming a mess.

My heart tells me to be strong.

Saying I’ve been grasping hard at life.

The poet’s desire to hoard everything is making me sick.

This greed is spilling into my veins.

Being weighed down with heavy like anchors.

Teach me how to let go so that when I am free I can be at peace.

Poetry is so calm and majestic.

We are poets in a world of cruelty.

Unobtainable, we try anyways.

- N.R.K.

Let's collaborate! Can you finish my poem? Tag @sonreyes and I'll reblog it! To the poet, this world is [ ]. I'm at the center becoming [ ]. My [ ] tell(s) me [ ]. Saying I've been grasping at [ ]. The poet's desire to hoard everything is making me [ ]. This greed is spilling into my [ ]. [ ] heavy like anchors. Teach me how to let go so that when I [ ] I can [ ]. Poetry is so [ ] and majestic. We are poets in a world [ ]. Unobtainable, we try anyways.

To the poet, the world is lonely. I'm at the center

Of becoming other, a friend or maybe a lover,

And my mind has made a mess again, saying I've been

Asking too much

Of too little.

This desire to hoard everything

Is making me emptier than I've ever been

This greed is spilling into my lungs, drowning me

With heavy anchors.

Teach me how to let go so that when I leave I can

Finally feel peace

**********************

I've changed your prompt quite a bit here, @sonreyes

I hope you don't mind. I don't follow rules very well. Thank you for thinking of me and sending🖤