thank you. this was a great thread idea, good job

i feel the salt of the earth
the iron in my blood
the love in my heart
alive
always alive

appreciate you fam

can't wait to see more of your writing in the future

i really love how simple & effective your thought is. you took "salt" and gave it 3 separate purposes in 3 different spaces where it does naturally occur. but in the end they all come unify again to give you life, literally & metaphorically.

salute & welcome

salt plain

mineral to my sole
i’m ok with a little sting,
reach for me i’ll take the walk
i’ll make it there by wing

hermes he sped the gait
foresaw a cause was just,
the crunch below is incident
to pair, born & loved

ruby, soak the quartz
some harm, some foul, all love,
your countenance it magnifies
for you, i’ll turn to dust

my hide to yours it passes by
a static bolt impressed,
i meet my make in flashing lights
on halide, i see crest

so kneel to earth and hold my hand
for now, i lay to rest,
cause she was there
but now we’re here
plain as salt, instead.

• pilot jones

dope great use of meter in this piece

The pain can be soothing
I place salt in these wounds
Just so I can feel again
Conversations with my mirror
My reflection is my only friend
He sees me for who I really am
I can’t hide these bitter truths
The air makes me suffocate
But now I can breathe again
I hang from this leather noose

Im finally free.

(Not very good but I’m trying to get back in creative space again doing things off the top of my head I saw this thread and thought it be a good chance)

thank you brother. glad you enjoyed it!

My brain kept circling around crystals and tears drying and how every grain of salt is a little mirror of a tear into my soul, something like that

that's a really beautiful. even if you weren't able to voice them in rhythm, i'm glad we still got to hear your process and what gears were turning in your mind. that's amazing!

and neruda...there's a reason he's as huge as he is. this set of lines is a perfect example of how there's so much beauty in his unpretentious simplicity.

damn man, this s*** hit like a punch to the face really heartbreaking but also so direct and forceful.

the idea of metaphorically putting salt in your wounds evokes such a physically uncomfortable sensation because how i know what that literally feels like. it's f***ing hell. turns a simple metaphor into actual pain for the reader.

thanks for the wonderful piece nuja! it's really dope to have a true KTT veteran here

please keep sharing, whether its your writing or something cool you find (doesn't even have to be poetry). I'll add you to the OP and tag you whenever there's a new weekly prompt

Much love homie I appreciate your words and I’m definitely going to stick around here I desperately have been wanting to find a thread like this and scrolling through it it’s amazing in here

right back at you brother. and i'm sure that with you and everyone else being so thoughtful, open & expressive, it's gonna stay amazing

F***

I really like this

the poetry foundation has this really cool "Poem of the Day" newsletter, where their editorial team picks and emails you one short poem every day.

i've found it to be a really quick and easy way to create a moment of mindfulness for myself, even on hectic days. it's a great feeling to set aside just 5 minutes daily for 1 quality poem without intentionally committing to a whole book or trying hard to find good poets.

check it out here, totally worth it. just uncheck everything except "Poem of the Day" when you sign up: poetryfoundation.org/newsletter

that well of our kindred blood dried up
by its own salt:

maroon streaks inscribed in crystals
the cause of death in calligraphy
tip your head over the side--
a sigh captured and reflected back
unto you as pale weak shimmers
along jagged spires

we tried to make a fountain of youth
with a lack thereof of foresight
from which all novice alchemists suffer.

wounds subside in lattices
retrace the steps of sundering
but they'll never find the us or our
in reverse rituals.

Salt, brine, preserve the mind
Kind return in kind
Bricks in a wall
Behind moss and vines
It's a vibe
It's a meditative climb
Self help, work on your self
Just be on time
Otherwise-
Trust, you don't wanna know
Game is not to be told
This dream ain't your own
That archipelago cold

Here, here
Sisyphus grinned ear to ear
Union mandated break
With a six pack of beer
Black lung in the rear
That's 20 years without gear
One rotten cross beam
You won't make it out of here
Pension disappear- Houdini
Vacay, veni, vidi, vici
You ungrateful, too needy
Don't bite my hand while you feed me
That whole food, that tofu
Fat cats get swole too
You romanticize the old you
Dr. Moreau got me brand new
You love handles, canned food
Pizza, ranch, Costco samples
Got a job hittin' cancel
Plus a God who can't stand you
God damn you

wow

that was really stunning. one of the most visually intense pieces anyone has posted here so far. your writing is so evocative and just flings my mind from one side to the other. it is extremely active and engaging.

my single favorite moment of vivid imagery is the wounds subsiding in lattices. i don't think i've ever heard of a more elegant way to describe something as banal as a scab before. it rightfully elevates the pain to something much greater than can be explained with mere words.

there is so much heartbreak and anguish here. so much love lost between those who had so much.

also, a quick side note since it came to me as i was writing this. this part of your poem:

we tried to make a fountain of youth
with a lack thereof of foresight
from which all novice alchemists suffer.

reminded me a lot of a Frank Ocean verse from a John Mayer song, also singing about fledgling love:

Only a nascent trying to harness huge fire.
Out on the beach in the darkness starting bonfire.

thank you for sharing and i can't wait for you to continue being among us

we need to ship this to Creative Sxn so someone can put a hot beat under it

can't believe it took 4 pages for someone to post a full verse on a hip-hop focused forum. this is so cool mango.

starting with the Sisyphus line all the way to the end has some serious mm...food era MF DOOM vibes man. that cadence & flow is ripe for the villain. i can legitimately hear the man's voice in my head as i read those lines through.

Been reading into the Jamaican-American poet Claude McKay. He was one of the most prominent poets in the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and is painfully underrated in the pantheon of the greatest american literary writers.

He generally wrote really short poems and has such a simple turn of phrase but it is so damn emotional, filled with hopeful, positive & uplifting affirmations of love & life for the black community in a time when they needed it.

It is feeling > technique all the way and i really really love it. Thought I'd share 3 of his pieces with you all

After the Winter

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire the shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.

December, 1919

Last night I heard your voice, mother,
The words you sang to me
When I, a little barefoot boy,
Knelt down against your knee.

And tears gushed from my heart, mother,
And passed beyond its wall,
But though the fountain reached my throat
The drops refused to fall.

'Tis ten years since you died, mother,
Just ten dark years of pain,
And oh, I only wish that I
Could weep just once again.

America

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.

I did have on Madvillain this week But I'm always biting Armand Hammer as a rule

you a real one through and through my friend

you definitely channelled those sounds into your piece. the flow & rhythm is impeccable and i'm not even hearing it, just reading it off the screen. that's when you know you got something hot.

how'd a pile of kush become a mountain of truth
how'd a bottle of wine become the fountain of youth

you guys really pulled through with such beautiful stuff this week. honestly didn't expect so many people to pour out their hearts like you guys did. real ones only itt for real.

@emu still you down to give the next prompt? i'll add it to the OP and tag everyone for round 2 can be anything...a word, a picture, a video, a song, etc. literally anything, go wild.