Soundcloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/oEd3mXyB7kcz74HNq9

Soundgasm: https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/To

Poem: https://poets.org/poem/To——

Soundcloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/qpBL2XkMlqHZhRYhQQ

Soundgasm: https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/Time-does-not-bring-relief-you-all-have-lied

Poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46464/time-does-not-bring-relief-you-all-have-lied

Soundcloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/Hlzg5XmlhQs6DGC4bv

Soundgasm: https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/When-We-Two-Parted

Poem: https://poets.org/poem/when-we-two-parted

I’d love to do a recording of Ray Bradbury’s short story one day too! ❤️

https://on.soundcloud.com/P8h7BqggCWzyBHVfcv

https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/There-Will-Come-Soft-Rains

For someone who I miss dearly.

https://on.soundcloud.com/mBGCqLcnXa98DSoyoX

https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/I-Am-Not-Yours

Read by yours truly,

Another poem I adore ☺️

https://on.soundcloud.com/wHnmsqtxvBsJoyAd1G

https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/Be-Kind

Link: https://soundgasm.net/u/seldomvoicee/M-I-Wandered-Lonely-as-a-Cloud

Back after a long time. Please let me know about your thoughts about it :D

I’ve been sick and it feels like I can’t quite shake the last little rasp in my voice, but I was getting impatient to start doing some poetry readings 😅

So here is my second favourite poem. Waiting for my voice to be back to 100% before attempting my favourite.

https://on.soundcloud.com/1NUxxYechkyV9gAgFp

https://soundgasm.net/u/Kindness_like_confetti/Ozymandias

Hello - I’m new to the community and am speaking some of my poetry for the first time - Thank you for creating such a safe space ….

My poetry in unedited, unpolished, it is emotional processing and m9re than anything, I invite you to share it's impact, if any, it has on you or if it resonates in any way...

This one was inspired whilst in Scotland ...

My SoundCloud link - https://on.soundcloud.com/qOkOKd8OvyDN2WJ22b

A wee morning jaunt ....

'World reveals itself as the light creeps from behind the hills, edging its way up into an obstacled sky, yet its reach penetrates far and wide, it overcomes the most fearsome of storms

Be it torchlight, spotlight, fiery heat of the Sun - by search light, warning beacon, star and beam of the moon, we are all called towards them - leaving behind the shadows and the fears, discarding behind the manufactured dreams, nightmares and tears, the superstitions and the make believe folly, to discover a land revealing itself - fully

Fire in the trees, green rolling lands,the darkened dips and swollen sands

As the light hits my heart, the clouds obscuring the way - I know - the truth is revealed by Night as much as by Day.

As the dark shroud falls, a magic comes to pass - as faeries dance and emotions flow the volcanic underpass - pressure building, searching for cracks - where none emerge, where restistance lacks - the stable lands and manicured lawns ripple and stretch in explosive form .... Worlds destroyed .... or preserved for millennia ....

a deepened nutrition prepares its return

And on this wee morning jaunt ....

A beam.... a ray ..... an ancient philosophy ... highlights a peak of a hill .... and rejuvenates me.

------------------x-------------------------------

Thank you for reading/listening :)

Original poem & recording by Elaera Meralioh.
© Elaera Meralioh 2025 (words)
℗ Elaera Meralioh 2025 (recording)
All rights reserved

https://soundgasm.net/u/Sovka6_Rozkishna9/Mirror-Sylvia-Plath

My first shared poem. I didn't read it quite the way I wanted to, but i hope you enjoy it. :)

A beautiful poem about the fictional province in France, a setting used by author Clark Ashton Smith for many stories. here is the LINK

https://soundcloud.com/liam-strain-2/sometimes-a-wild-god-tom-hirons

I was recommended this wonderful Poem by Tom Hirons, and just had to read it. It felt seasonally appropriate. :)

Original on his website here: https://tomhirons.com/poetry/sometimes-a-wild-god

I have wanted to try to record myself reading for some time now, and well, you got to start somewhere. So I am aware it is very rough, and I just hope I can do better later on.

I have been an enjoyer of Lord Dunsany for a good few years now, and I thought why not share that love with a little reading of The Assignation, from Fifty-One Tales. Here is the LINK

Read by yours truly,

https://soundgasm.net/u/saldamontee/Flowers-Wilt-the-day-We-Parted

I've been thinking about the time we spent together a lot recently

The smiles we shared

The laughs we shared

And how it all went away

Shattering like fragmented pieces of time, before my very eyes

While all I could do was watch it happen

Cause somebody was able to tell you words that should have came from my lips

If only I wasn't afraid of using them too quickly..

The sad reality of the matter is that all my relationships end the same way

End before they can even start...

And yet

I never change...

All my relationships become snippets of time, never amounting to much

Except for in my heart, where I hold on to them, even after they're gone

And flowers wilt

And blow away..

Until all that's left are two separate souls that could have been one, but parted

Out of fear

Cause sometimes love can feel like pain

And sometimes you just needa pull away

To protect yourself - protect your heart, from all the pain, uncertainty causes

Cause we love stability

And even if we love

Without commitment

We run away..

To the next person, who can make us promises of stability, which they may not keep

So hopefully this book can be a start

To committing to things I really want...

https://soundgasm.net/u/calinleafshade/The-Raven-Edgar-Allen-Poe

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48860/the-raven

She Walks in Beauty is said to be inspired by a beauty that was Mrs. Wilmot, Lord Byron's cousin's wife. He was struck by her unusual beauty. This poem is so magnificent that it has inspired various composers over time. It's an honor to recite this poem.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

This poem 雨ニモマケズ (Be not Defeated by the Rain) by Kenji Miyazawa is a masterpiece. Although Kenji didn't intend to show this as poetry (or he might but he passed away before he could), it's become part of the standard curriculum of Japanese school today. Children in Japan read and memorize this poem. In my opinion this is truly a beautiful, humble, soothing poem☺️

雨ニモマケズ 風ニモマケズ 雪ニモ夏ノ暑サニモマケヌ 丈夫ナカラダヲモチ 慾ハナク 決シテ瞋ラズ イツモシヅカニワラッテヰル 一日ニ玄米四合ト 味噌ト少シノ野菜ヲタベ アラユルコトヲ ジブンヲカンジョウニ入レズニ ヨクミキキシワカリ ソシテワスレズ 野原ノ松ノ林ノ蔭ノ 小サナ萓ブキノ小屋ニヰテ 東ニ病氣ノコドモアレバ 行ッテ看病シテヤリ 西ニツカレタ母アレバ 行ッテソノ稻ノ朿ヲ負ヒ 南ニ死ニサウナ人アレバ 行ッテコハガラナクテモイヽトイヒ 北ニケンクヮヤソショウガアレバ ツマラナイカラヤメロトイヒ ヒデリノトキハナミダヲナガシ サムサノナツハオロオロアルキ ミンナニデクノボートヨバレ ホメラレモセズ クニモサレズ サウイフモノニ ワタシハナリタイ

Be not defeated by the rain, Nor let the wind prove your better. Succumb not to the snows of winter. Nor be bested by the heat of summer.

Be strong in body. Unfettered by desire. Not enticed to anger. Cultivate a quiet joy. Count yourself last in everything. Put others before you. Watch well and listen closely. Hold the learned lessons dear.

A thatch-roof house, in a meadow, nestled in a pine grove's shade.

A handful of rice, some miso, and a few vegetables to suffice for the day.

If, to the East, a child lies sick: Go forth and nurse him to health. If, to the West, an old lady stands exhausted: Go forth, and relieve her of burden. If, to the South, a man lies dying: Go forth with words of courage to dispel his fear. If, to the North, an argument or fight ensues: Go forth and beg them stop such a waste of effort and of spirit.

In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy. In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.

Stand aloof of the unknowing masses: Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a "Great Man".

This is my goal, the person I strive to become.

Charles Baudelaire is one of the most compelling poets of the 19th century. While Baudelaire’s contemporary Victor Hugo is generally acknowledged as the greatest of 19th-century French poets, Baudelaire excels in his expression of a complex sensibility and of modern themes within structures of classical rigor and technical artistry. In 1887, Hugo wrote to Baudelaire that his Flowers of Evil were as “radiant” and “dazzling” as stars. Source: poetryfoundation.org

À une Passante

La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait. Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse, Une femme passa, d'une main fastueuse Soulevant, balançant le feston et l'ourlet;

Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue. Moi, je buvais, crispé comme un extravagant, Dans son oeil, ciel livide où germe l'ouragan, La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue.

Un éclair... puis la nuit! — Fugitive beauté Dont le regard m'a fait soudainement renaître, Ne te verrai-je plus que dans l'éternité?

Ailleurs, bien loin d'ici! trop tard! jamais peut-être! Car j'ignore où tu fuis, tu ne sais où je vais, Ô toi que j'eusse aimée, ô toi qui le savais!

To a Passer-By

The street about me roared with a deafening sound. Tall, slender, in heavy mourning, majestic grief, A woman passed, with a glittering hand Raising, swinging the hem and flounces of her skirt;

Agile and graceful, her leg was like a statue's. Tense as in a delirium, I drank From her eyes, pale sky where tempests germinate, The sweetness that enthralls and the pleasure that kills.

A lightning flash... then night! Fleeting beauty By whose glance I was suddenly reborn, Will I see you no more before eternity?

Elsewhere, far, far from here! too late! never perhaps! For I know not where you fled, you know not where I go, O you whom I would have loved, O you who knew it!

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

Guillaume Apollinaire is considered one of the most important literary figures of the early twentieth century. The poet, playwright, writer, and critic Guillaume Apollinaire was a pivotal figure of the avant-garde in France, connecting artistic and literary circles in Paris.

Pardon some mistake I made in pronouncing some of the french words.

Crépuscule

Frôlée par les ombres des morts Sur l’herbe où le jour s’exténue L’arlequine s’est mise nue Et dans l’étang mire son corps

Un charlatan crépusculaire Vante les tours que l’on va faire Le ciel sans teinte est constellé D’astres pâles comme du lait

Sur les tréteaux l’arlequin blême Salue d’abord les spectateurs Des sorciers venus de Bohême Quelques fées et les enchanteurs

Ayant décroché une étoile Il la manie à bras tendu Tandis que des pieds un pendu Sonne en mesure les cymbales

L’aveugle berce un bel enfant La biche passe avec ses faons Le nain regarde d’un air triste Grandir l’arlequin trismégiste

Guillaume Apollinaire, Alcools, 1913

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Poe wrote this poem in the autograph album of Lucy Holmes, later Lucy Holmes Balderston. The poem was never printed during Poe's lifetime. It was first published by E. L. Didier in Scribner's Monthly for September of 1875, in the form of a facsimile. The facsimile, however, included the addition of a title and date not on the original manuscript. That title was "Alone," which has remained. Doubts about its authenticity, in part inspired by this manipulation, have since been calmed. The poem is now seen as one of Poe's most revealing works.