Sing me a shotgun serenade, lover.
My love burns unyielding, like the fire of Hell.
Destined to die, to die loveless.
To such perverse lifes,
Sing me a shotgun serenade, friend.
Whilst stroking metal against your china cheek,
Black hair draping across algae eyes
Flames rooted deep inside
So wrong this poison alcohol.
Drunkenly beautiful, still stroking
Scraping the skin of your flesh.
This uncomforable, wrong desire
Painful, pretty love.
Sing me a shotgun serenade, tormentor.
Catch me in the eye,
Our society is falling down, crumbling
yet your fingers still dance upon the
Ivory and ebony teeth,
Forcing strange music out.
Co
My skin is too tight today. It doesn't move with me, and I can't move within it. It binds and constricts, and I can feel my nerves burning. It's too soon.
Fog surrounds me, the water in the air clinging to the strands of my hair and the fibres of my clothes, bejewelling my eyelashes with glittering droplets. I can feel the mist pouring into my lungs as I breathe, cold and slow and thick like cobwebs, coating my insides with soft snow and sharp shards of ice. The air caresses me, moving around me, lapping at my ankles like the sea and pulling like the tide.
I can feel the thickness; feel the pure, palpable whiteness of it. I just can't
Once I sang a song
that delighted
the hills and streams
that lay alongside me with spring and January
lingering along the sheets and pillows of February..
Once I fell in love with a being so divine
that if one's eyes allied with hers
would it not comprehend?!
O truth is my
heart stolen in the midst of stealing glances of her
causing paper pink wings to glide across the skies
over the months of Junes and Mays
even more so numbly through October till December
Once she and I looked each other in the eyes
and heaven took notice and sighed
the neighbour's delight , the roses, the chives of berries and ripe
the smell of lilies and a
Children should be seen and not heard.
This was the rule I, Reilly Harding Sterne, lived by. The year was 1232 A.D. when I was born, the first and only son to the heirs of Houses of Sterne and du'Frost.
Amazing how well my parents' last names described them.
As I grew up, I learned that, to my mother and father, children were nothing more than a way to pass on the family name. I have to admit, I was treated better than my sisters. I was lucky, being both the only boy as well as the oldest. I was the most important out of the eleven children my parents had together. I was imperative to my family's survival.
My sisters weren't.
A little af
I'm resting my head on a large expanse of glass.
Somewhere on the other side is the sun, restless and remote...
He's been upset lately. The winter reshuffle hit him hard; so he's sulking.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do...
...you're a grown-up now..."
... apparently it means not asking for help
I think I saw him yesterday, but it was early and I was already on my way to class
I think he was over the park, for a moment I thought I saw him; he was in the trees reflected on a wall...
I turned around but he'd gone.
...
...
Perhaps he'll call
Perhaps he'll post me a message
Perhaps, something short, letting me know where he
It is so cold here (hear me...can you hear me)
So alone without you; (you were always mine, you know)
The flakes fall on my head: (heading away...so far away)
Cold snow, white as bone. (bones aching with the cold)
Wind whips around my body, (body belonging to me)
Drawing the drifts into dances, (dancing warm and pressed together)
Whispering fingers into my clothing, (cloth
Stars are guardians of broken hearts
Lonely lullaby scowling my dreams
In the glittering horizon shores bleed
Remove my heart love gives me my last regret
Nightmares in my dreams exploring love's dementia
Winter solitude in the misty morning
Time is all the time it takes to entwine
A heart of blue cascading all this will fade
All these words showering down upon silence
Stepping over my heart stepping stones are abandoned hearts
Running blind
I know you would have said it all before
Running late
You had to go I know you wouldn't if you could
Stars are guardians of broken hearts
I hear in my mind all of your words
Lonely lullab
White rain falls.
If you look closely, you could see tiny shapes.
Footprints follow and fall back on a white blanket.
Barely a sound,
except for the ones that didn't head South.
Trees are sleeping,
yet sad being without their friends.
Everything may seem dead,
but there's life all around.
The time to take out the sleds.
Kids are having their fun in the snow,
while the grown-ups shovel.
Season of exciting holidays and
a New Year.
Days go by
and white rain falls less and less.
Soon there was only wetness on the earth.
Snow became
Spring.
The first time she came to me, I let her in my humble classroom with a smile. The students in the hallways crowded together at a safe distance; enough for a newcomer, but too much for a star. For her, it was like coming back to a good place, but something was slightly off… different. That different thing was the students, with their inquisitive faces, hardly knowing who she was, but knowing she was something important. Her long skirt silently brushed across the floor towards my open door.
As her eyes scanned the room, I knew what she was thinking. I haven't changed, she thought. It was true; I hadn't changed.
I studied her, now, and I knew
Safe Haven
You left me in the darkness, never heard my scream
the silence behind you, I was like a leaf drowning into a cold stream.
I could have ask you to stay, just a little more
but you left me to go looking some cruel shore.
Sailed away, my sailor, you sailed away from me.
To the East you went, to the sun and the sea.
Not saying a word,
my heart was hurted, as if it were attacked by a poisoned sword
Into your journey to the light,
you´ll face the deepest night
But when you´ll want to return, just know
You´ll always have a safe haven in my heart.
Il nostro paradiso - Remus. by writersdA, literature
Literature
Il nostro paradiso - Remus.
Il nostro paradiso
Vedo luci, acquose, d'una sfumatura
Bruna…i tuoi occhi:
bagliori nel buio di questa nostra notte;
profumi, odori,
che nascono, si intensificano
inebriano le nostre narici.
Intingono come oli
queste lenzuola umide…
respiri, t'affanni, perdi
contro ciò che ancora,
non conosci.
Sento un calore diverso.
Senti che ti trafigge e,
continua,ancora fino alla fine…
fino alla morte e fino al paradiso,
quell'eden tanto atteso,
ci appare nelle menti nei corpi.
Come un fremito dirompente
Ti riempie della sua essenza più pura
E tu come me, versi la tua vita;
su me in me…Inerme vengo colto da quella tua mano,
come un
My voice is not of my own mouth,
nor
a feeble protest spoken appealingly
to the air.
My voice
is the black and white ivory
keys of the piano,
pressed gingerly,
reverent
and unassuming.
My voice is
repeated softly
on a thousand unknown
lips, uttering these
words as if they were
prayers of healing.
This voice,
unlike the pounding
voices spoken to a battered world,
is passive,
yet always hinting,
like the insistent rain.
This voice grows strong,
its willowy notes
dipping into someone else's
dreams, and the occasional
pause of the scribe at work,
bent in understanding.
In the silence my true
voice is heard.
Content,
Again Charles wakes up with her in his mind. He sighs and wishes this would end. At first this seemed ok, but then after that no she said 6 days ago, it just made him feel sad, even though everyone told Charles to continue fighting for her. But that doesn't end there Charles has tried to continue as one of her best friends but she avoids him, or vice versa.
Charles's eyes started to fill with water, remembering that day on the loved one graduation day. He was partnering of a friend of hers, yes a stupid thing to do, this just made her mad. "But…" he thought, "Thank God I wasn't going to dance Waltz with her, it would just make us feel awkwar
Miranda and the Revolution by writersdA, literature
Literature
Miranda and the Revolution
Miranda blinked.
"Who are you?" she asked. "And what are you doing here?"
"I'm waiting for the revolution," the figure said.
"Seriously?" Miranda said. "I'm here for milk."
"Milk never changed a nation."
"But, milk does a body good."
"Knowing your choices, choose."
She opted for milk. The revolution didn't go anywhere. She had cookies.
Final Sunset - purdyvermy by writersdA, literature
Literature
Final Sunset - purdyvermy
Midnight
Starlight
On the hill I sit with the dying oak tree
Twilight
Moonlight
Twin breezes each side of me
Looking over the darkened hill
Nothing's moving, everything's still
It was only a few hours ago
That I watched the sun's setting glow
And my only regret
Is that I never saw that final sunset
With you
The sky was so pretty
As alone I was sitting
Watching the final sunset
Now darkness surrounds
Shadows on the ground
It was my final sunset
Crying
Rising
One replaces the other
Flying
Dying
As the day dies, the night comes to life
But tonight there's only a nightmare
I've always wished I didn't care
The stars and
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Speed Poetry Night!
5th August
Click here for your local time
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Prizes will be available to those who win each round. You will be given a theme, then 30 minutes to write a piece. We will judge and announce the winners of each round as soon as the judging is completed :aww:
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