Tallie Mar 1
The walls are there for a reason
To protect against crime and treason
Don’t let it out don’t let it in
Can’t let anyone know how you’ve really been
Arm the guards, protect the inner
Don’t let in the sinner
The walls are up but the roof is gone
She’s free to move on
She went up in the clouds, the wind rose
All the way up she glows
Moving on and loving yourself while you do
Ken Rafiñan Feb 24
Ceramic crashes clash with the quiet night air.

A thunk and a thump—
cold doors opened,
then closed once more.

You could hear the frost his as it creeps along—
seeking another warm convert for its cool cult.

Spoons, forks, and knives tinkle:
creating stainless music that draws light form the darkest corners of the room.

Plastic wraps crinkle their already wrinkled faces
and cough up pairs of slices.

Bread offers itself demurely to layers of spreads
and dashes of sauces.

Breathing becomes a meditative mantra,
and before long once-idle fingers birth a sandwich.

Its crust is cut and contemplated with wistful whisper,
and then composted.

Some mouthfuls of pinot are decanted
onto sculpted crystal castles whose rivers run red.

These artefacts of plate and goblet,
of cup and chalice,
and of hand and utensil are offered
to entropy in stories of sensation,
in texture,
and between feeling.
Pagan Paul Feb 12
She walks the castle walls at night,
with a rose held fast in her fingers,
the mist rolls away across the land,
the memory of her lover still lingers.

Cold flagstones beneath her slippered feet
hold the histories of the aeons tight.
Old battles, wars, and terrifying sieges,
ghosts of ancient warriors wail in the night.

And still she clutches his parting gift,
she wears the bond burden of his ring,
his love weighs upon her broken heart,
tears flow free with a melancholic sting.

They fall upon the stones and disappear,
additions to the heavy tomes of history,
little gems writing sadness in a story,
as she stares into the distance so wistfully.

© Pagan Paul (10/02/18)
Seems like heart by heart has been broken
none of us wants to be the last one badly spoken
I still breath the dazed and confused air of our past
I've been holding it painfully inside my chest

And who would dare to throw a stone?
while their castle was left undone
tragedies of me, catastrophes without ends
you choosed a terrible way... there will be no amends today

No star will light our coming night
even before the evening you started to fight
I could see in your eyes that you were out of mind
but in the end, I'm your peace sign
Joe Feb 18
As a child, I often imagined us as a royal family;
Dad as the king,
Mom as the queen,
And Myself as the princess.
Within our humble little castle,
You taught me how to be kind but resilient;
To be graceful but firm;
To respect other people and myself;
To love people,
Especially myself.
You have raised me as best as you could

But, a crisis swept over our kingdom
they called it.
It affected all the children in the land,
Making them even more rambunctious than usual.
They became irritated
and isolated themselves,
all the while their innocence fading.
Of course, it affected your little princess,
And you didn’t know what to do.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I’m telling you not to worry.
This is not a crisis but a part of life.
When I slam my bedroom door shut,
After we’d just fought,
That doesn’t mean I hate you.
My hormones are just not as calm as they used to be.
Be patient.
I’m not mad at you
For telling me to sit up straight
Or mind my manners at dinner
Or be independent.
I know you are just molding me
To become the person you’ve always envisioned;
You just want me to be more like you.

But, mom, dad,
I am my own person.
I have my own set of personalities and traits
A set of which you have inspired,
Not provided.
You have inspired me to become
A strong woman
But, I have to do it my way now.
You can’t shield me from the terrors of the world forever.
You have to let me out of my tower
Because I can slay my own dragons
and unfaithful princes.
I am not your little girl anymore
But I am still your princess
And you still rule my world.
a little tribute to my parents.

Wondrous Dec 2017
Be my castle
Chase away the demons
Make me your queen
Love them less than me
Make me the chandelier
Make me as expensive as the prettiest ruby
liv Oct 2017
i must've been homeless for quite some time
because now in your arms i feel like home
because when she gave me a cardboard box
that i gratefully took in as i needed the shelter
you've given me a castle
and have made me feel like a damn queen
how could i even begin
to thank you
Adrian Oct 2017
on the sky
where the tide
won't quash on
them and little feet
won't crumble them
Chew Kia Hwee Oct 2017
Forgive me, sexy castle of my longing,

for it seems that

I have to divorce you again.

Do not ask why it always

happens right after

Our honeymoon.

Or why we never really

bedded, despite all my efforts

to make our relationship work.

I might had said this before, but

your hallways always seem so distant to me,

your windows so open and so closed.

Your walls lock me in,

guiding me and restricting me

at the same time.

Often times, I take a wrong turn,

and I get lost in your many passages, only to

find my way out after countless hours

of trial and error.

My frustration builds for days on end,

and eventually, I leave.

Yet I always return.

I continue to be enthralled by your hypnotic beauty,  no matter

the number of mistresses I have been with.

Still, I treat you unfairly.

Your corridors fill with trash I sworn I already

cleaned up and sometimes

I forget to care.

I am a terrible excuse of a housekeeper,

I confess. I should hand the keys to kid Coby down the

block for at least he

polishes his childhood toys.


even as I depart,

I selfishly cling on to your wasted love,

hopelessly waiting for the day when

I am capable

and experienced enough

to deserve your welcoming, faithful doors
My thoughts about writing
Izzy Aug 2017
My King,
At sixteen we have the world at our feet.
We're building our future with unsteady hands.
One day we might run, leaving this little town in the dust.
Hand in hand. Crowns atop our heads.
The two of us against the world, off to build our own castle.
Battles raging around and between us, but we will win them.

One day we will will walk through the doors of our castle, our kingdom, our home.

One day our story will be told.
They will tell it.
We will tell it.

To the little princess or prince that fills our castle with the pattering of little feet, beyond contagious laughter, and more mess than we'll feel we can handle.
It will be wonderful, an adventure we face together.
A journey through life, all our own
                                                             ­     Love, your Queen.
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