Peace

Redux

My surroundings easily force me to breathe in the tranquility.

I’m seduced to engage with a nature free from annoyance.

My being is in harmony with the world.

Shhhhh listen to the quiet, you can hear it.

It’s like being gently enveloped by the serene.

All the memories of conflicts dissipate.

Bliss and colors are magnified to a brilliant degree.

All my senses breathe it in deep into the interior of my soul.

And then, I exhale contentment.

Originally published 7/17/2018 on I Write Her.

Gone Down

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #147

i watched the sun
slowly fade away
and everything around me
began to take on a dark hue

i experienced a sinking feeling
my body caving in on itself
the depression dragging me down

i yelled into the void
but no one could hear me

i couldn’t save myself

Disputes

let’s be mindful 
stop all this judging
cool heads prevailing is an art
be still, be in the moment
as if on film, act right
demonstrable like a slight breeze
but wire your jaw shut if need be
leave your opponent with a puzzle
rather than let your mouth betray you
blinders are not needed, but filters are
let your mind rationally come to the table
before you end up on the ground

Timo Schmitz

No one can hurt you again

I feel you in my veins
One touch ahead,
Don’t get mad,
I protect you! 

Toxic or not?

We are never on the same level,
yet we need each other so much,
is it toxic or did we lose sense
– for compromises? 

I want to listen

I want to listen to you,
I want to get along with you,
I always wish you just the best,
I hope this connection forever it lasts,
yet we are strangers…

Becoming and Deceasing

Rain is dropping on my head,
whether happy, whether sad,
rain is light and has no mood,
life giving on the earth clued,
but coming together, destructive,
dropping all life abductive.

~~~

Timo Schmitz is a language fanatic, philosopher, journalist, poet, and book author from Germany, where he lives and studies. He authored poetry books in German, English, and French. His poetry was also featured in Luna’s Poetry Bar as well as I Write Her. This is Timo’s first feature on The Short of It.

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Forgotten Nuptials

Serena dropped off the old disposable camera at Walmart for developing, asking for the one-hour rush. The sixty minutes couldn’t pass soon enough; that’s how excited she was.

Finally, it was time! She opened the package with enthusiasm looking forward to what she would find. It looked like the images were from the 70s, and so captivating. They held a certain charm as she quickly went through them. It looked to Serena as if these were from a wedding reception. Yes, there was one with the bride in her beautiful white dress!

OMG! That’s her mother, but NOT her dad!

Inspired by Eugenia’s Moonwashed Weekly Challenge – Captivating &
Reena’s Exploration Challenge

Reblogs – Anonymously Hal & The Blighter’s Rock

Love can be so complicated and, at other times, not.

Hope by Anonymously Hal

I forever hope 
that a piece of you 
remains somewhere 
inside of me… 
 
And I pray that 
one sliver of you 
is better than what 
I currently see. 

Take Me by The Blighter’s Rock

take me inside you 
bring comfort to the desires 
that spill from my dreams 

Shielding

Redux

The injurious are on the prowl.

Instinctively my guard goes up.

Hurling words to pierce the psyche.

Expectedly waiting for more of a beat-down.

Another and another and another.

The taunts ricocheting inside me like a ping-pong ball. 

Humiliation the game, the victor, no one.

I feel desperate and alone. I want to cry.

Fear, sadness, and agony achieved.

I don’t know how much longer I can take this!

Bored, looking for the next target to feel superior to.

I’m exhausted from this continued abuse.

I need to push myself over the edge to freedom.

Originally published 7/16/2018 on I Write Her.

Repressed Memories

I searched the night sky for a familiar constellation of stars, hoping I could catch their orbit behind an opening in the clouds. But luck was not with me tonight. Instead, shadows projected their natural art onto the forest, leading to sparks of memories of my sisters and our shared life. The past felt empty, yet my mind continued sprouting up more scenarios. I struggled to breathe with this onslaught of my past. My brow got damp with sweat, and my head was in a swirl of sketch thoughts. It was all so ugly, worse than I remembered other times.