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If you fall in love with a writer
Be prepared for heartbreak.
Those writers, they are hopeless romantic.
They love, not just with heart
But body, and soul; They love
With their words, and all things old.
And yet, they do not know often
How to use those words, unless through a pen.
Their silence will hurt you
Not once, but over and over again.

If you fall in love with a writer
There is no happily ever after.
They'll push and pull away from you
Those writers, they'll run and hide.
Then write about you, for you, only you
And arise; But it's a vicious cycle
And you cannot get by.
For some writers do not know happy,
For others, ever after is a myth.
They know their hearts, but not their minds,
I apologize but it is the bitter truth.

If you fall in love with a writer
Be ready to live forever.
You become their only words
And their words become only you.
Pages after pages of them inked
Maybe, a spoken few.
Whether you will it or not
You're their only truth, all else is a lie.
Because as the saying goes -
*"If a writer falls in love with you,
You can never die."
A pair of stays to bind in fashion,

Stiff bodice lift those ample *******,

French sophistication and ***** south,

Linen lines taken from the robin's nests.




Once seen in times known to all Baroque,

Steel cages more true to the name,

Renaissance blushed at the very sight,

This hidden and blustering shame.




Georgian era was always that late,

Yet women united to sheer the skin,

Frills and cuffs were the new bloom,

The dowdy apron given to the bin.




Victorian, Edwardian seen a rise of empire,

When romance boasts the whale bone done,

Now scattered in all weddings and burlesque,

Dear Corset is set in memory to run and run.
Just my take on women's fashion through the ages, well one small part of it anyway - have fun!
 Jul 2016 Colten Sorrells
Torin
According to the gospel
As the lord and savior traversed the holy land
Preaching the word and showing the light
Speaking with god and devil alike
Speaking love to mankind
It is said
He would find the sick
The suffering of infirmity
He would lay his hands to their skin
And heal them
He would heal them
According to the gospel

My days are long
And I have bruises that don't show on my flesh
Impracticalities that should cause mental maladies
That would help me find the self destruction I fear
And that I fear awaits me
I'm tired when I wake up
And dead through the day
But I feel alive
Every time I put my words to the page
I feel a sage
Whose wisdom is generational
I feel hope

I may be sick
Maybe
I may be a lost and tortured soul unfit to exist
In this existence
Maybe
I may feel pain
I may
And the only disease I know is the brutality of life
Maybe

Poetry heals me
It is the hands in the desert
On the ***** in the cave
It is the words as rain to feed the seed
It is the sprout of a flower
And the bloom
It is my reason
And my religion

It is my gospel

And when the angels sing
If no one else can hear but I can
I'll know of peace
In a world of disarray
Once again. May the light shine so bright it blinds the undeserving
The Right way is what works for you
The Right thing is what interests you
But the right time is now;
You see?
All rights you seek are with you. Right now.
Alas, you don't see!
So, go on
Take left, do wrong
As long as it's right for you.
For its your life, your battles, your problems.
And you, only you can fight for you.
And That's what is right for you.
Today is my birthday and I am thirty-one
I surely hope that the best days in my life aren't done
Everyday is exactly the same and that is no doubt
One day at a time and it will all work out
Good night muse
Through open mouth comes
Silent nothing you left behind
Forced syllables bubbling to the surface
Pointless use of precious tick-tocks
And dictionary was left under the rain
Soggy pages melted into a feeling state
Comatose of pretence
Your luggage full of stories and unbeknown to you morals
Secretly precious artefacts
Desposed regrets and cynical apologies
Said as a joke to stretch the time away from
Boredom
I'll keep them under pillow where they belong
Filling my dreams with dread of pointless ending
Keeping me from fading into that good night
(I love you Thomas, you old devil hope you're drunk and loved)

Good night muse
I hope you wake one day with
Sense of purpose
Desire that you're know is real
Shiver of urgency running
Down your nerves
Need desire passion
To uncover the world
At the bottom of your fall
Into the mystery of another
Sometimes it all ***** and I hate it, but I'll stick around and see what happens
Silence drowned in the eyes of the storm
Boundaries dissipate speechless
Confusion accompanied
By the song of the wind
 Jun 2016 Colten Sorrells
Stephan
.

The loudest barking
usually comes from a cat
claiming he’s a dog
"I fell in love once..."
Said the hag to juvenile eyes,
Open wide, glinting with wishes
That have yet to die.
Shining above smiles of
Innocent mischief.

"What was it like?"

A throaty laugh crept in reply,
Lingering in ears
As she gently whispered
"As if death had been delivered"
She whimpered,
Then wrinkled eyes flickered
"My heart eaten away by blisters!
Skin once warm,
Grew cold and withered;
In the light your flesh will shiver.
Minds shrink and quickly close,
Thoughts become lost behind
Endless doors.
And that ******* Hope,
Sticks bony fingers down throats.
You'll choke, on emotions that don't grow.
It's an illusion of the unknown,
That's birthed when you're alone
I fell in love once, and forever
It left me undone.
Heartstrings severed by
Infinite measures.
The aches, the pains
Instilled in poisoned brain.
Love is a disease, and so quickly
It consumed me
Never to leave, never to leave...
It lies asleep 'tween weak heartbeats
And nights where heavy breathes.
A spell that beauty shall beseech
Your heart to let reach
And once inside,
It writhes like a twisted centipede
That shall crawl within till
Memories are laid thin.

I fell in love once,
And in love I still am,
For once under the curse,
Eternally you are ******."

The children eyed the old woman
Between their stars, a darkness woven.

-SLuR
A religion reflection..
Immersed as we are in
brambles and thickness
knowing well the trees of
cliched forest and trees..
Each tree quite alone..
But for this moment
let the cliche speak:
Please find a clearing
experience a Self removed
from clustered beliefs
about separate trees..
Make your Discovery
then return
to the trees..
Find them shining
as real Trees...
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