He could see their dark souls through their piercing eyes, but he was not afraid. There was nothing that could bring fear to his heart anymore. Not even death. As they drew closer, he stood his ground. It was as if he was a lone mountain rising up through a sea of darkness, stronger than a thousand men. Once they were upon him, he knew what he must do. In the great distance, he could see the light rising. Almost invisible at first, but slowly gaining strength. As the onlookers saw the light, they desperately tried to block it with dark thoughts. But this light was too subtle, too beautiful, and too powerful for any darkness to penetrate. In their hearts they knew the time had finally come, this was the light of the infinite.
Do you now hear the rising song of Spring Begun with thund'ring drums up in the sky And carried on the wind with new leaf's sigh The many voices of the birds who sing? Inspired by songs he heard upon the wing Man himself to waking nature draws nigh And when the sweetest of those strains rise high Perhaps his own clear voice will also ring. I, myself, with the poet's sacred art Take up my pen to perform my duty And this season's song one small verse compose. For this music ehoes within my heart And I cannot help but feel the beauty Of a song which from life itself now grows.
Wow, many creatives around here. It's not really my strong point, but I would like to try. I have recently started an online course on short stories writing. When I get a hang of what it's all about, I shall come back and post my piece.
The most important thing is to just let it come from your heart and your experiences. Be completely transparent and honest. I'm a writer by profession If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. Here are some pieces I'm working on now, but they're unfinished: Himalayan Salt A Wooden smile to keep him quiet. Goose lips, an attempt to keep him laughing. You dance with squatted legs to cover the bruise. Squatted legs to keep appearance. You waltz into my bedroom, with the curiosity of a child in your eye and you mock the growing mould on my ceiling. You point, and you laugh, but is the sight not a reflection of your own shame? Does it not resemble the weight on your shoulders, the wounds you carry on the palms of your hands? You want everything and you want nothing. Swallow Me In Come a bit closer, so that I can feel your blood against mine, sliding my veins into your veins, hearts merging, energy fusing as one, allowing the same pump to keep us functioning, the art of wax and candle. The mystery of night and day, the simplicity of snow and sun. Breathe here, touch at this pace, think with eyes closed.
Iambic pentameter, flighty thou, Though my heart oft longs for elusive thee, Thou art caught only with sweat upon brow As my pen chases faster, and thou flee.
This is a nice relief. I try to creatively write about porn but it doesn't amount to much. Here's a few reboot poems. (during my reboot) Pancakes in my Blood Food obsession lately, a result of barely having any around. Chili powder rice burritos – 5 a day, give or take. “But there’s all that fish and soup in the freezer?” “I know – there’s the bag of cat food too I could eat, be quiet ova there!” It’s organic propaganda. Street pushers of burritos. It’s nice to be out in the world. Buying burritos in back alleys. Smuggled bean and cheese, sometimes a good green chile with the right timing. My cat drinks water from a coffee cup. And then the world turns upside down, then back again, then upside down, then back again. Guitar in the pawn shop – it’s always when I don’t have a guitar that I want to play one the most. Driving around today – a small reminder, some salsa of what I’m aiming for. Cilantro dancing, shredded beef and bean for glory! Homemade delight, cat hair blankets – cut into spaghetti western gunslinger ponchos – woven clown dream. Then a pot of clam chowder enters the picture – somebody tossing it in, spread out through the air like a wave – surf/crash – an arc settling over at seaside ocean. California? Oregon? Louisiana? Litterbox beach? A campfire at night – half moon and breeze – tea, sadness because everything is so immediate – can’t hold onto this place and none of us will ever be here again… I was born to be here, only here, right here/right now – with baby skunks waddling around outside – looking up into hazy windows. Changing your Oil like Words It’s all about writing to ring out the demons.. They get loud sometimes, kind of a low level roar that’s hard to hear – deep soul past the audible frequency. But it’s there, and it builds. What’s wrong? Is it this, that, he, she, me? Write it down and figure it out. Maybe it’s a weird loneliness… A person winds up missing themselves, find themselves lost, further and further from home. The external world starts getting overwhelming and spins like the a top. Finally, it slows down and falls out onto a blank page. Ink spreads out, hot glue, changing the oil in your shitty car because it’s overdue. “Wow, it runs better now!” You’re goddamn right it does, now change the filter too – don’t forget that part. Fall’s coming up here in the Pacific Northwest. The air wants to be crisper, more sharp – start feeling like beautiful nostalgia, and drive people into cozy burrows. Scarves getting anxious to jump out of closets and choke everybody. Whales Hanging Outside, Far from Sea Early morning – new place, time, surroundings, rugs, neighbors, bathrooms, windows, lost whales laying out on the concrete next to the dumpster far from home… What are you guys doing here? The ocean’s way the hell that way —————-> Bored they say – wanted to check out something different. Certainly different. Is this the best you could come up with though? Beached next to my dumpster on the concrete? They don’t mind – they like it. I decide I should just leave them alone, after staring at the moon with them for awhile. Smoking a cigarette with them, talking. I should quit smoking, again… But I don’t mind, sharing a cigarette with these beached whales outside my new apt. next to the dumpster. Intuition/emotion. I don’t know that words help – they don’t seem to help getting those things out and across. Where’s the logic? It’s there – like pancakes though, butter, maple syrup, and a couple stray french toast. Toasts? – Toast I say, hop to it brotha’! Moon, whale, sleeping cat, bathroom down the hall, old brick building, dumpster, concrete, open wounds, new forgiveness looking way back, time travel, midnight brew coffee, wide-eyes, kitty cat snoring, and hot summer nights. Passions – confusions – vibrations, Mindfulness lost in the shuffle of the cards – pick one, quickly – don’t wait. Sounds of the trains going by outside – can see the whales still hanging out, still beached out my window – having a good time though. Concrete amusement. – future.
Hey guys, been a while: Just a Random post from my notes on my mobile Phone, That day I just felt a creatie urge and got some "transmisions" from the Youniverse that i just had to type on my mobile notes after a short, but, deep relaxing meditation at the libraty study room. Here It goes: (...No Title...) It's him, the one. The microcosmic Avatar. The Universe is in him. Unity incarnate, a son of Nature and Divine Creation itself manifested Prime Creator's avatar in flesh... Chaos?.. Unity.. There is Elegence in curiosity... Beyond rational thought, Space, Time and Reason. Just Now. Here.. Him self, her self. I AM...
I really like your use of language. It's nice to read! very vivid descriptions. (No pun intended) Here's my try. I based this passage around PMO, I hope you enjoy. Thanks The sullen red ball that was the sun shone it's magnificent light across the land. At this point I laid, body curled up in a colossal maple tree, just observing the beautiful sunset. The last Crimson rays of light that pierced the swaying branches of the trees around me gave me some warmth from the icy breeze that consolidated everyday on the cliff side where I resided. My sapphire eyes scanned the Orange hazy horizon, scattered with thin wisps of clouds. The sun was just a bright semicircle now, drowning itself into Davy Jones Locker and soon, giving birth to its pale white counterpart. I sighed. Even with all the beauty of the sunset to please my eyes, distract my thoughts, nothing could erase the disease that lingered in my heart, my mind. Although I overcame it, the memories are still there, threatening to corrode and pull me further into the paths of guilt and isolation if I didn't remain vigilant. On most days in the past, I found myself deep in a war against the sweltering tides of darkness. But I fought it, with all my strength and will. In the end, I came to realise that there was hope. The darkness faded in my head. Thoughts of happiness, love, joy and excitement filled my head. And even though the remnants of my dark past was still there, they were merely but a scattered heap of memories that I would decide to neglect for the rest of my life. Ever since, I have led a better life. For once in my life, I experienced something unlike anything else in my life. True happiness.
Just found this random little snippet in a drawer while organizing my house, and I wanted to share it with someone. Blind Everyday they pass by. The innocent, shallow people unaware of the pain and sorrow of this world. Unaware unless it effects their daily routine. Everyone has a routine. Everyone has a story, a pattern they follow without thinking. They never think unless the pattern is disturbed. The pattern is never disturbed unless someone intercedes. Everyday they walk. They walk by the hurting, the broken, and never turn back. They’re blind to the bad; their minds repress the evil. Like a racehorse focused with its blinders, they walk straight, fixated on the familiar pattern of their secure path, never letting the world stray them from what feels like home. They never let living distract them from their lives.
Some commentary on modern society Millenials suck They are all so entitled Pay for my dick pills We gays are equal So you cant criticize us Bake our cake or else A black drug dealer Killed by a black policeman Blame whites anyway another shooting they died waiting for the cops more gun control, please I write for buzzfeed I know what's best for the world I can't squat the bar mass credential fraud Designated shitting streets Can I pull white girls? Clickbait thread titles About not pulling my pud Ride the karma train We gave all your jobs To indonesian children You are entitled I went on grindr Found "love" in 10 seconds Now deaf from the AIDS I am a woman My penis is feminine Get back here cis scum! my daddy is rich Coulda gone to Vanderbilt Did porn instead, lol I'm independent I have a stable career Give alimony This shit never ends I can write this shit all day The world is just shit
Great thread! Great stuff, i love creative things! I like to write little haiku's The hammer of war The tranquility of peace The great paradox No mortal man knows what goes on after the show when the lights are low time does not forget nor must it always permit the dreams of a life hatred is so cold yet love is forever bold and the story old infinite is love so something worth dreaming of forever lasting Also came up with this today that i like, it's simple but its how I feel 'Just opened up my mind Not just another third-eye blind Time is now and now's the time To break away from chains that bind'