Poeaxtry's Prism

Spell. Stone. & Sparks that Ignite Change

Tag: poet

  • What Brings Me Peace: Rituals That Ground and Heal

    What Brings Me Peace: Rituals That Ground and Heal

    What brings you peace?

    Peace isn’t some distant, fragile dream…it’s stitched together from everyday moments and rituals that quietly steady me when everything else feels like it’s spiraling. I find it in the calm that comes when I intentionally slow my mind, pulling back from the noise that threatens to swallow me whole. It’s in the deep breaths taken during those rare stillnesses, a soft reset that slices through chaos and invites clarity to settle in like a whispered promise.

    I usually find peace first by quieting the storm inside my head…finding a natural calm that softens the sharp edges of stress and noise. It’s not about escaping reality… it’s about slowing the mind enough to breathe, focus, and reset. This calm haze settles the chaos, giving me space to think clearly and find balance when everything else feels overwhelming. Without it, peace would feel like a distant, unreachable luxury. Especially for someone like me, juggling ADHD, other diagnoses, and whatever else life throws my way. THC has been more medicine than anything else. Simply a way to calm down in more than one way, grounding both mind and body when the noise gets too loud, when I can’t regulate my emotions, or even when my brain cannot seem to calm itself.

    There’s an unshakable kind of peace in the steady presence of something… or someone, that grounds me without needing words. The kind of quiet loyalty that pulls me from the abyss of my thoughts and reminds me I’m not facing the storm alone. That steady heartbeat beside me, the simple warmth of shared silence…it’s a reminder that calm doesn’t always have to be loud or flashy. Sometimes, peace is just the steady pulse beneath the noise.

    Moving through nature is my way of hitting reset, step by sweat soaked step. The world outside reminds me how to be resilient, how to keep moving. With every crunch of leaves underfoot and a fresh breath of air filling my lungs…I’m reminded that peace grows slowly, like roots digging deep into the earth. When the city’s weight presses hard…the wild offers a refuge. This is a place where I can rebuild myself, piece by piece and step by step.

    I hunt for hidden treasures. A few quiet gems buried beneath dirt and time. This slow, focused search pulls me into a mindset of curiosity and patience, drowning out the mental chatter. Finding those small pieces of beauty in unexpected places is like stealing back peace from a noisy world, holding it in my palm like a secret victory no one else could see coming.

    The work of my hands when polishing, shaping, crafting… pulls me into the moment with a clarity no other practice can match. The hum of tools, the steady pressure turning rough edges smooth…it’s meditation made tangible. A reminder that transforming raw chaos into something shaped and controlled is its own kind of peace, earned with every steady spin or careful cut.

    Writing and journaling let me wrestle the storm inside onto the page, turning tangled thoughts into something I can hold and understand. This act of creation is both a shield and a weapon… helping me reclaim control when life feels anything but. Words become the map through dark forests, a way to find footing when the ground shifts beneath me. Without this…peace would slip like sand through my fingers.

    Let’s be real…peace isn’t always sacred. Sometimes, it’s petty. It’s in those sharp, satisfying moments where I call out bullshit, get the last laugh, and watch karma unfold like clockwork. These moments aren’t trivial; they’re survival tools and ways to reclaim power when the world tries to crush it. Petty shit keeps me sharp and my boundaries solid. That’s peace with a bite.

    Watching karma take its course gives me a peace rooted in faith… not in miracles, but in balance. Knowing the universe holds justice in its own time frees me from carrying bitterness or vengeance. It’s the quiet trust that lets me focus on growth and keep my eyes on the work ahead, leaving grudges to dissolve in the background.

    Peace is also that last laugh, the quiet but fierce victory when the noise finally dies down and I’m still standing. It’s not arrogance; it’s validation. And it is the proof that persistence pays off. That grin when I know I’ve outlasted the doubters, when my story is mine to own. That moment grounds me, fueling a peace that’s both hard-earned and unbreakable.

    But peace isn’t just personal…it’s collective. Helping to be the change I want to see roots me in purpose beyond myself. Lifting marginalized voices, pushing for real transformation, and building community are acts of peace that extend outward. This ongoing fight feeds my resilience and connects me to something greater, a calm fire burning steady through chaos.

  • Still Growing: How I’d Describe Myself, Honestly

    Still Growing: How I’d Describe Myself, Honestly

    How would you describe yourself to someone?

    Describing yourself to someone else isn’t always easy and especially when you’re made of a million pieces. Some are polished like my tumbled stones and some still lost in stage’s in-between. Some of my pieces sit quietly. Though, most are able to be heard well before being seen. If you really want to know me, here’s what I’d say:

    I’m a transgender man, a poet and a brother. I am someone who’s lived more lives than years and still chooses love every time. I’m a little wild around the edges but hold a huge interests is things bigger than myself. I’m the kind of person who sees beauty in broken things and meaning in the mundane. A rockhound, literally and metaphorically speaking. I find clarity in chaos and treasures in the dirt. I’ve always found peace in nature’s small wonders, whether it’s a strange fossil in a ohio, a waterfall along the road in North Carolina, a field of wildflowers, or the hush of a quiet morning with no one around.

    I’m a pet dad and an animal lover through and through. My heart stays full because of the furry ones that trust me to protect and care for them. I’m a fiancé, a son, a momma’s boy in every way that matters, and someone who’s learned how to carry a big heart inside even bigger walls. They exist not to keep people out forever, but to make sure what comes in is real and worthy.

    I work as an STNA in Ohio. It’s an honest job that reminds me daily of the fragility and strength of being human. I’m queer and neurodivergent, which means I see the world differently in many ways. Sometimes my thoughts drift, sometimes I hyperfocus, sometimes I forget where I was going mid-sentence. I call it my squirrel, but I always circle back to what matters. I’m easily amused, deeply emotional, and hard to knock down for good.

    I call it like I see it. And I know I am one hundred percent not for everyone. I don’t lie about who I am. I’ve survived abuse, addiction, mental illness, and more than my fair share of days that almost ended me. And yet I’m still here still as ever curious, still kicking, and still kayaking down rivers like they owe me answers. I’ve always loved a little danger, a little chaos, and a lot of loudness. Pop-punk is home for me: shouty lyrics, raw feelings, and the unapologetic right to feel everything too much.

    I’m an activist, not because it’s trendy, but because silence has never saved anybody. I believe in showing up for all people, for justice, for love, especially if it’s hard. I support human rights because mine have been denied, delayed, and debated too many times not to.

    And above all else, I’m a human being. I am not a checklist of identities or a walking experience for others to analyze. Just a person doing his best with what life’s handed him. I laugh, I mess up, I start over, I love hard, and sometimes I fall apart. The best part? I keep showing up. And I hope that counts for something. I will always.

    So, how would I describe myself? I’m someone still in motion. I am actively making space in a world that wasn’t built for people like me, but damn sure isn’t ready for what I bring to the table either. I’m full of contradictions, full of love, and full of fight. And if you don’t get it… well, keep it cute, or put it on mute.

    Links. Discord. A song

    Another prompt

  • Daily writing prompt: My Legacy 🖊️

    Daily writing prompt: My Legacy 🖊️

    What is the legacy you want to leave behind?

    When I think about legacy, I don’t picture wealth or status, I envision of a shelf. A tall, dusty shelf sits in some quiet room, decades from now. It is lined with books that echo voices. These are the voices that were once silenced. I want my poetry to outlive me. This is not just for the sake of art. It is for the sake of those who have felt or will feel invisible. My legacy will be one of poetic excellence, but also one of resistance, resilience, and raw truth.

    Words like Lanterns

    I want to be remembered as someone who used his words like lanterns. I aim to light paths for trans and queer youth. They need to see themselves clearly in a world that often erases them. I want to leave behind a body of work that makes people feel braver, more seen, and more whole. My legacy will focus on collaboration in publishing.

    I aim to publish not only my own books. I also lift others’ voices in shared collections. These collections challenge injustice and document our collective truths. I will also start a publishing company. Its primary focus will be on publishing the work of those who are most vulnerable. These individuals are often most likely to be ignored.

    Restless Care

    Above all, I want my legacy to be one of relentless care. I care for the underdog, for the misrepresented, and for those living in the margins. I want my words and projects to remind future generations that their stories matter. Once upon a time, someone fought like hell to make sure they’d be heard.

    Axton is the Change!

    Just in case this was a thing you didn’t pick up on. I don’t want to be remembered as someone who simply talked about the need for change. I want to be remembered as someone who was the change. Someone whose voice didn’t just echo in empty halls. It moved through communities, laws, and generations. This helped to carve out a freer world for minorities. A world where they are no longer just fighting to be heard, but living loudly, boldly, and without shame.

    links portfolio
    Poetizer