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A Raft to Drift Upon
A raft to drift upon,
When the storm rages on.
A shelter through the thunder’s might,
A beacon glowing in the night.
The first warm rays of dawning sun,
After a winter when hope seemed none.
A gentle balm for a heart that’s bruised,
A strength restored where pain was fused.
The warmth of a fire when the cold bites deep,
A whisper of calm where fears may sleep.
The power to rise when the world pulls down,
A smile that mends even the darkest frown.
The reason to exist when all feels lost,
A guiding light, no matter what the cost.
The thread that ties the heart to hope,
The anchor thrown so we can cope.
This is love, a quiet embrace,
A force that time cannot erase.
A raft to drift upon, steadfast and true,
Carrying the soul to skies of blue.
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The River Knows My Name
By the river’s edge, a woman mourns an unseen child, her voice breaking into mist and echoes. Through shadows, ravens, and restless water, her grief becomes clarity. The River Knows My Name is a gothic meditation on freedom, loss, and the haunting beauty of choices carried alone.
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Eternal Expressions
Hieroglyphics and statues were not mere artifacts—they were Egypt’s testimony against time. From rigid depictions of divine order to individualized portraits of wisdom, these forms carried memory and spirit. On Poetic Bipolar Mind, I see writing as a similar practice: a modern hieroglyph, preserving lived experience against silence and forgetting.
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Bound by Time and Memory
Dave White’s Forgotten Soul and Kiana Jimenez’s poem intertwine in a meditation on eternal love, memory, and entrapment. Chains, locks, and flickering candles mirror verses of clocks and longing, creating a haunting narrative of two damned souls bound together beyond time’s reach, refusing to fade even as shadows close in.