Jump to content
Attention, CICADA community!
  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is closing. Learn more...

Recommended Posts

You know the rules. In case you don't, a brief rundown:

Starting today (March 1st, except it's almost midnight so oops) until the end of the month, post one or two lines that help progress the poem. Post as often as you want, try to keep writer's varied, anyone can contribute, yada yada, ok here we go.

This month's theme: Oasis.

Bring your quiet forest paths and secluded beaches. Evoke your favorite corner of the library or that spot at the top of a mountain where there's nothing but the wind. If it's meditative, if it's sheltering, if it's metaphorical or literal, as long as it's an oasis you're set.

Now go, my writers! Write.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

some find peace in the serenity of natural things—not as I do

for its constant motion, tumult, uncertainty, imminent danger


-Hydralio

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

is still a constant, despite the chaos—

disorder is a reassurance in its consistency

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

so when I stumble into a quiet place

off-balanced by the sudden roar of silence in my ears

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

how myself is a chamber of its own,

my oyster-shell identity wrapped glimmering around my hidden pearl.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

to find shelter inside myself from sandstorm winds -- grit in my teeth, eyes --

is like a welcome inhale of coastal sweetness

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

white noise generators hold the same lullaby of constancy but

lord knows mother nature does it best


current number of classic lit characters ive gone out of my way to project on and reason out why they might be gay: 8

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

I find in nature as much pattern as

disarray—what charm!—

Edited by Hydra ’Liope

-Hydralio

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

chaos as departure from a norm, as deviation from bell-curve existence


O. Captain / Cap / Nevermore || any pronouns

see ya, space captain

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

chaos is a resting place, a sandy beach, a coral reef—

an oasis of bright and different and alive

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

my lungs find new ways to peel themselves back 

for the openmouthed sun


holla holla get dolla

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

the phytoplankton sing of that sunlight on their tongues, of quiet serenity, 

and i sink into blissful dark unknown 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

and the kaleidoscope is like that one i find in your eyes,

like the sinking into pillow-soft dawn and cricket quiet,

like the serenity that enfolds me as i gaze up at the sun.

this is our oasis.

 

((just needed to wrap it up there. gimme a second and i'll post the full thing.))

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

Wind-whipped chaos sweeps across the sand

and blue-gray-green waves crash along the seam of the land

some find peace in the serenity of natural things—not as I do

for its constant motion, tumult, uncertainty, imminent danger

is still a constant, despite the chaos—

disorder is a reassurance in its consistency

so when I stumble into a quiet place

off-balanced by the sudden roar of silence in my ears

I think about the thunderstorms I've felt

and how they pulled me toward the inmost chamber of myself

how myself is a chamber of its own,

my oyster-shell identity wrapped glimmering around my hidden pearl.

 

to find shelter inside myself from sandstorm winds—grit in my teeth, eyes—

is like a welcome inhale of coastal sweetness

and salt may be hidden in the sweetness,

but then the peace is only made sweeter

white noise generators hold the same lullaby of constancy but

lord knows mother nature does it best

quiet conversation in coffee shops is mirrored in cricket-song and summer wind

 

I find in nature as much pattern as

disarray—what charm!—

never did I think that chaos would be my home

but the silence when it is absent is chaos in itself

—chaos as departure from a norm, as deviation from bell-curve existence—

chaos is a resting place, a sandy beach, a coral reef—

an oasis of bright and different and alive

 

I breathe looking up at all the water

completely submerged I feel no pressure in my chest

my lungs find new ways to peel themselves back 

for the openmouthed sun

the phytoplankton sing of that sunlight on their tongues, of quiet serenity, 

and i sink into blissful dark unknown 

where my eyes don't see

but there's a kaleidoscope in my soul

and the kaleidoscope is like that one i find in your eyes,

like the sinking into pillow-soft dawn and cricket quiet,

like the serenity that enfolds me as i gaze up at the sun.

 

this is our oasis.

 

 

 (Contributors: @queenie_flower @Hydra ’Liope @thepensword @catasterism @Apollo's Lover @writeandleft @conradbirdie @O. Captain @drowntown )

 

 

 

Edited by thepensword
  • Like 4

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

×