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Literature Text
Hand to mouth, what we all carry like trapdoor hunches
soul-heavy and hardly worth a penny; somehow we convince -
now you know: herbal tea smoke makes shamans
pen in hand, perspective the tilt to the calligraphy hand,
I never knew that thought could be so wild, untamed wolves wandering
collection of puss and new skin cover abrasions like that of metaphors,
like that of the idealists hunched on the edge of reality
you, in my head brushed aside like wayward branches
sit atop the welcome mat of my mind; blink, circle three times before lying down
because there are animals in us all, undefinable beasts crouched in the feign of sleep
but how they startle awake with fistfuls of skin
eyelid weights like cement blocks discarded during construction,
ruins of labor, forgotten memorabilia, though we find ourselves again
in the folds of midnight’s scarf, wading moon puddles, walk like Jesus,
suns in our hands, star pitchers overflowing
soul-heavy and hardly worth a penny; somehow we convince -
now you know: herbal tea smoke makes shamans
pen in hand, perspective the tilt to the calligraphy hand,
I never knew that thought could be so wild, untamed wolves wandering
collection of puss and new skin cover abrasions like that of metaphors,
like that of the idealists hunched on the edge of reality
you, in my head brushed aside like wayward branches
sit atop the welcome mat of my mind; blink, circle three times before lying down
because there are animals in us all, undefinable beasts crouched in the feign of sleep
but how they startle awake with fistfuls of skin
eyelid weights like cement blocks discarded during construction,
ruins of labor, forgotten memorabilia, though we find ourselves again
in the folds of midnight’s scarf, wading moon puddles, walk like Jesus,
suns in our hands, star pitchers overflowing
Literature
Truest Colors
One can look at the rainbow and feel the colors inside them, Painted on the walls of their flesh and tattooing their heart. The rainbow is beautiful, glorious, and also quite misleading. At most seven colors come to mind when admiring it because Our naked eyes cannot behold each color’s many layers, The same layers that are in constant flux within ourselves. Thinking of red emotions often leads the mind to a rising temper; Does the darker maroon represent that fire beginning to cool? And what of candy apple, a red so vibrant and named so sweet It could stand for the liberation felt when the fire is all released? The rising temper itself may not be red, but rather chili, Sporting a spice that torches the tongue and any word spoken. If the anger comes out on somebody near and dear to you, You may feel burnt orange with a body marked by scars Only caused through seeing a loved one harmed by your words. This often leads to rust, a color whose name suggests weariness As the words
Literature
Granted Desires 2
The story begins the day after the events of Granted Desires, Please that first. Day 5: Henry, Marina and Freya now live as a happy family and Henry and Marina wanted to spend the day playing with Freya during the day, Marina: I am so happy, we were together and we were able to have a child, that being Freya. Henry: I completely agree Marina: And isn't she absolutely adorable Henry: Yes of course. Freya*: I guess this is my life now. Henry: I kinda wish I could be so young again, it has been so long. Marina: Interesting Henry: I am so tired right now I think I am going to go to bed for a bit. Marina: Okay see you tomorrow. Henry heads upstairs to go to bed, while Marina continues to entertain Freya before going to join Henry in bed. Day 6: Henry awoke in a different room to the one he fell asleep in, it was the guest room, he instantly went to Marina's room and she was sitting up in bed, Marina: Morning Henry, Come give mom a hug and then can you go get Freya out of her crib. Henry
Literature
Patreon Poll: Supernatural Blonde
I know bets mean nothing if the losing side doesn’t honor them, but it still sucks to lose one, and what was I thinking? Cheerleading? Ugh, I feel like such a dork. This is not really me: from the outfit (I know Mabel said it was “super cute”, but I don’t care: she’s not the one dancing and shaking her bottom in public), to the entire “peppy, happy” attitude. And it’s not like I don’t enjoy stuff. Of course I do, but trying to smile and cheer and yell and kick to support some guys beating other guys on a football field… it’s not really my scene. Whoever likes to do this kind of thing? Good for them, really. But to me? It’s just a matter of taste… and to be over with this. SOME TIME LATER… Not gonna lie… at first I wasn’t sure if this was really for me (and a part of me still thinks it’s sort of, you know, out of character for me), but believe it or not… I’m actually starting to see some perks to be part of the cheerleading squad. First of all: like, IT’S HARD. Real effort and
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Afflatus [Latin] : a divine creative impulse or inspiration.
This was a poem inspired by a very precious friend of mine. He's a partner in spirituality, in life, and he taught me that love is truly unfiltered - there are no boundaries.
Lately his health has been failing, and I thought perhaps dedicating this poem and sharing it with him would uplift him some.
This was a poem inspired by a very precious friend of mine. He's a partner in spirituality, in life, and he taught me that love is truly unfiltered - there are no boundaries.
Lately his health has been failing, and I thought perhaps dedicating this poem and sharing it with him would uplift him some.
© 2015 - 2024 SoundlessWhispers
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"I never knew that thought could be so wild" <- Yes!
So I find your style intensely unique and your words pregnant. Wonderfully done.
So I find your style intensely unique and your words pregnant. Wonderfully done.