zoul poem

everyday zoul, zoul poem, zoulful outlet

neptune in pisces


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still and ever and again and again I am
shedding myself of this skin
shuddering off on the daily this slowly thinning web
sometimes 5 years old, 99 years young and 23 years crazy at the same time
I’m guessing this is to figure being
until or before we learn breathing slow n being kind
more and deeper

we are bred into boxes
we learn the workings of numbers
before the workings of our bodies + minds + souls
and taking in the love
…only the love
and filtering out that b*s that isn’t spirit
yeah you heard me right all that stuff that isn’t pure,
non soul shit,
because I’m all about that soul
mmhmmm baby
whether it be in music
whether it be in bones
Imma let that soul lead the way
that humming
that inherent, tremblin harmonizin
rhythmically crackin
vibin voicin

I have been painted on
in straight lines
by eyes who don’t see colour

entered a world wherein
many wish
and few know
that we have already arrived

I have come into a space
where people carry ears
but have lost sound
and few still hear
the soul speaking
through walls of concrete
but to the few that do hear
thank the heavens for the few
(literally)

(without you
it’d be much harder to be on this side
of the spheres)

inspiration, svenskt, zoul poem, zoulful outlet

en inte längre flickas alkemi


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de börjar i nacken,
occipitala nerven
kristallrys som
klättrar
splittras
sprids
uti hela mej
itu, hela mej

önskar nästan
ja va tio
kunde backa tre steg
tills innan jag visste
innan jag kände
de ja känner nu
men ja e inte tio
längre
och de säger ja ska
va vuxen
nu
och jag önskar det inte
tillräckligt mycket
för att släppa denna
min kärnas eld

det blir hazy
makear inge sense
hejdå intelligens
elektrisk frekvens
inge gräns
bränns!
rubbar min existens
under the influence
turbulent transcendens
snart abstinens
det e så det känns
nu

jag e kvar
i tonårens dekadens

.

everyday zoul, zoul poem, zoulful outlet

Up in the air heart bare messy hair


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Maybe it is
That I am a Sunday blood woman today
Maybe it is
That I awoke at 6.39am this morning
Despite no alarm
And every other morning since
Getting home from Cape Town
I have not been able to push myself up at 7.30
Despite an alarm
Doesn’t that say something
That if you let the flow know for you
You let the flow flow what it knows
Then you will be up at whatever time you body needs

The anticipation
The expectation
Ruins what can be natural
What can be a Sunday flow
Maybe that is
How every day could go
Flow, know, flow, and go

Sunday used to be the day before Monday
Now Sunday is just a Sunday
And I am by myself
Messy haired in a bed where I’ll sleep
For two more weeks
23 years old on the 23rd of April
Smelling of peppermint and rosa damascena because those are my decent smells
My Sunday smells

I am in a house not necessarily called home
But I am home
In my body
Thank you, woman body,
Flowing with tide
Blood of potential life
I am grateful to even the pain

Where’s my mind
Between the lines
I’m just fine

This Sunday Sunday

 

zoul poem, zoulful outlet

Things in time


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Things

Don’t exactly fade

Just roll further back

Ever as potent

Ever as existent

To feel
Things are right here

Inside my rib cage beats

A heart that already knows

Ever as potent

Ever as infinite

To feel
So babe feel

zoul poem, zoulful outlet

Bones


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Whispers whispers whisper

“I am here”

Skeleton woman speaks

Reverberating rhythm

Ancient echoes

Thousand tongues

Flesh decays

Matter fades

Dust settles

Skeleton remains

She is below

Carrying instincts

She is above

Evoking soul

zoul poem, zoulful outlet

In the middle of the rising, raging storm is where I sway


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In the middle of the rising, raging storm I am the calmest of all –
I sway here no longer waiting
I rest here never hesitating
I am exactly where I need be

Because I have survived blackness and rosen from the ashes before
And each time anew
There is more beauty
; My experience richer to feel it

I am reborn again into my soul’s nest
Before falling into breaths
To grace consciousness
And with all my heart
Quietly
Patiently
Smile.

inspiration, zoul poem, zoulful outlet

Heartbreak flashback


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What followed the end of him and me wasn’t quite what I thought…

I didn’t slam my fists against the ground

Didn’t put up a raging fight

There was a deep inner process of realising it wasn’t about him anymore

It was about me

Owning the experience

Owning the glorious experience of rediscovering myself after seemingly having lost myself;

Letting back in, the energy previously invested in another person’s heart

Rebirth

Renewal

Complete emptiness

Having let go of all expectations

Not clinging on any further

As to feel completely fulfilled

The simple image of a father holding his baby girls’ hand would enclose my heart in loving gratitude so real and pure; last felt in my childhood…

To break up with people, places or ideas can brilliantly dignify you

You prove your strength, core and purity

You learn the beauty or terror of you; weakness and chaos

You realise all you can truly trust is your own heart

So my love… I hope you know it.

In a room full of people, a teacher once asked us ironically:

“I mean, who ever loved having their heart broken?”. Me and one other guy put up our hands.

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