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Stay Zen

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127 contributions to Stay Zen
Tap-In Tuesday -Micro Offerings
Today centers contact around…Inspiration In honor of National Poetry Month (What inspires you to continue to push your pen? Where do you pull your inspiration from? ) A small trace. A mark left without explanation. What you offer can be brief. A line. An image. An acknowledgment. Leave it where attention happened to land. Here's my offering: Music, Spiritual Downloads, Being in creative spaces amongst my fellow, creatives ,books, movies, current events, and paying homage to those who came before me through spoken word😌 And of course poetry prompts that resonate with mešŸ™ŒšŸ¾šŸ™ŒšŸ¾šŸ™ŒšŸ¾šŸ™ŒšŸ¾šŸ™ŒšŸ¾
Tap-In Tuesday -Micro Offerings
3 likes • 1d
@Tierrah Nicole
1 like • 4h
@Laron Henderson
Trickster-Text Thursday
Thursday Edition Meaning, Slightly Unsupervised (Activity) Let Language Loosen Giving Linguistic Disturbance (Exercise) Post one to five lines where language bends, slips, or misbehaves. Short. Witty. Unpolished (Micro Poem). Let meaning drift just far enough to notice. Topic: Running Here’s My Offering (Example) : My past still running laps around me. Keeps tryna catch who I was. I outgrew the race. Changed tracks completely, Because there’s no finish line back there. #SouthernSeoulSpeaks #tresduravia
Trickster-Text Thursday
4 likes • 1d
Running runs me: ribcage rattling, rhythm rewriting reason, but now… recovery rests in repetition. January finds me raw: February re-stitched what rupture revealed, March remembered how breath returns without begging. Roads remember my restless repeats, but this time, I am not running from ruin, I am rehearsing renewal. Reach, rupture, reroute… then return, each month a ribbon retying me to myself, each step rewriting the dream in real time.
National Poetry Month – Day 16
Theme: Dreams Not every dream is random. Some feel like warnings. Some feel like answers. Some feel like something or someone trying to reach you while you’re quiet enough to listen. Dreams can blur the line between memory, imagination, and something deeper. Today we explore what shows up when the world goes silent and the spirit starts speaking. āø» Prompt 1 – Was It Really A Dream? Write a poem about a dream that felt too real to ignore. Something that stayed with you after you woke up. Was it a warning, a message, or something you still can’t explain? āø» Prompt 2 – I Met Something There Write a poem about an encounter in a dream. This could be a person, a presence, a version of yourself, or something unexplainable. What did it leave you with? āø» Prompt 3 – Dreams Speak in Symbols Write a poem using dream-like imagery and symbolism instead of direct explanation. Let the meaning reveal itself through metaphor, not clarity.
National Poetry Month – Day 16
5 likes • 2d
Hmm šŸ¤” I'll be back
4 likes • 1d
Prompt 1 & 3 Between the Pointing and the Light I did not wake, I slipped back through a door my body never touched. The field was already breathing. Gold heads bowed in unison, not to me, but to a promise rehearsing itself somewhere past sight. A bench waited like a sentence unfinished by someone who knew I’d return. They were there again not arriving, not leaving just kept. One carried the hush of lullabies that raised me without asking, the other wore truth like a garment that never wrinkles. I stood between them, a living hinge on a door that doesn’t close. The sky half-shadow, half-spill— held morning in its mouth but hadn’t decided to speak it. Then the weight of earth loosened its grip on them. They became lighter than memory, softer than breath leaving. And still they pointed. No names. No directions. Just a line drawn through the air that everything else obeyed. The flowers turned like a congregation without a preacher. The wind leaned forward as if it knew the ending. ā€œThis is where we need you.ā€ The words did not travel: they rooted. Inside bone. Inside choice. Inside the quiet places I keep postponing. I asked where? but the question fell wrong, like trying to plant stone in a field that only understands becoming. Far off, light began to unbutton the dark slow, deliberate, revealing nothing, but the certainty of its own arrival. And something in me trembled.. not fear, not grief.. recognition. Like I had been walking away from that horizon long before I ever dreamed it. The bench exhaled behind me. The field did not call it waited. And just as my feet remembered what forward feels like. I was pulled back, into a room too small to hold what I had seen. Morning sat on my chest like a secret that refuses language. No map. No answer. Only this. A pointing that follows me through ordinary hours, through choices dressed as delays, through every moment I pretend not to know. And sometimes when the world goes quiet enough. I feel that field again turning.. not toward where I am, but toward who
AFTERTONGUEā„¢ WORD DROP #026: TAUGHTQUIET ✦
TAUGHTQUIET /ˈtɔtˌkwaÉŖÉ™t/ (adj.) Definition Taughtquiet describes understanding transmitted without direct instruction.Knowledge carried through presence, pattern, and atmosphere rather than spoken guidance. — Soulprint You learned by being near it.Nothing announced itself,yet something settled into you. Taughtquiet lives in what entered without being named. — Clarity Shard Silence can carry instruction. — Rememory There were environments where nothing was explained. Still, you understood. Tone revealed ii while repetition shaped it. Taughtquiet returns you to the knowledge that formed without being spoken. — Seal of Enoughness I honor what I learned without being told. If this word resonates with you, you’re welcome to respond below with: • a lesson you absorbed without explanation • a pattern you recognized before it was named • or simply ✦ if this named something familiar This space knows how to hold it.
AFTERTONGUEā„¢ WORD DROP #026: TAUGHTQUIET ✦
4 likes • 2d
Some lessons never knock, they settle in the bones, unannounced, like dusk teaching the sky how to let go. I am a daughter of taughtquiet; raised on glances that said more than sermons, on silence thick as Sunday morning air, where every unsaid thing still found a way to be heard. No one told me how to endure, but I watched backs bend without breaking, watched hands crack open just to keep love fed. I learned survival in the space between sighs. Taughtquiet lived in my mother’s eyes, in the way she swallowed storms and called it ā€œjust another day.ā€ It lived in the kitchen, where burnt edges and soft centers taught me balance without a word. I know how to read a room before it speaks. I know tension by the way it breathes. I know love by how it lingers after it leaves. No teacher claimed this knowing, no chalk marked its shape, yet it carved me anyway, soft and sharp at once. And now I carry it, this quiet inheritance, this language without sound, a fluency in feeling, a wisdom that hums beneath the skin. Because some truths aren’t spoken they’re absorbed. And once you’ve learned them… you never un-know what taughtquiet has already said.
I Was a Sky
Soooooo your girl was been in the studio….šŸ˜ And as I finally finalize work on this long time coming LP, I need your help! ā³ Anticipated release 2027 ā³ There are two versions of this track sample and I want honest ears on both before I move forward. Version I Version II Vote below: 1 = Version I 2 = Version II And tell me why: which one feels more haunting, more cinematic, more emotionally exact, more replayable? I’m listening for: the vocal tone, pacing, atmosphere, tension, and which version actually leaves a mark after the 1:40 ends. Help me choose which version of ā€œI Was a Skyā€ deserves the next stage. 🌌
Poll
3 members have voted
4 likes • 2d
@Miss Lady I played it this morning again. OK so when it come out Baby, yeah I’m getting That.
3 likes • 2d
@Miss Lady right back at you
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Naomie Thomas
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1,152points to level up
@naomie-thomas-7091
A Godly mother, sister, friend who is an author, writer who loves to write and read! Aka HaitianNao

Active 4h ago
Joined Mar 2, 2026
Atlanta
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