Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You will
Be beautiful

Here your mom is
Your dad is
Genre: Fantasy Humor
Theme: Gene lineage
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
π‘΄π’š π’•π’π’π’Šπ’„ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆  π’”𝒐𝒖𝒍
𝑨 𝒅𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆, π’Žπ’š 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 π’˜π’†π’π’• π’˜π’Šπ’π’…
π‘΄π’š 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔 π’•π’‰π’π’–π’ˆπ’‰π’• 'π’•π’˜π’‚π’” 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒆

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
π‘΄π’š π’„π’‚π’π’Žπ’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒄𝒖𝒑 𝒐𝒇 π’‰π’‚π’‘π’‘π’Šπ’π’†π’”π’”
π‘ͺ𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰 π’”π’‘π’π’–π’“π’ˆπ’†π’…
π‘΄π’š π’ƒπ’π’…π’š 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 π’π’Šπ’”π’•π’π’†π’”π’”

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
𝑨 π’‡π’Šπ’π’† π’‡π’“π’Šπ’†π’π’… 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 π’•π’Šπ’“π’Šπ’π’ˆ π’…π’‚π’š
π‘΄π’š π’”π’˜π’†π’‚π’• π’˜π’†π’π’• 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’• π’˜π’π’ƒπ’ƒπ’π’†
π‘»π’‰π’Šπ’” π’˜π’π’“π’π’… 𝒂 π’‘π’†π’π’…π’–π’π’–π’Ž π’Šπ’ 𝒂 π’˜π’‚π’š

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 π’Žπ’‚π’•π’•π’†π’“ π’‰π’π’˜ 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 π’•π’π’…π’‚π’š
𝑰'𝒍𝒍 π’‚π’π’˜π’‚π’šπ’” π’π’π’π’Œ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 π’Žπ’š 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆
π‘·π’“π’π’ƒπ’‚π’ƒπ’π’š π’•π’Šπ’” 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’π’π’π’š 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕
𝑭𝒐𝒓 π’„π’‚π’‡π’‡π’†π’Šπ’π’† 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔 π’π’Šπ’Œπ’† π’Žπ’†
Ink is in my gene
But I welcome you
To buffer space
As a coauthor


The story
Never ends
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Towards Forever
Amanda Apr 2019
I get in a strange state of mind sometimes
Felt this misery before
It is back to disrupt my life
Tend to stand aside, not much more.

It will show what a worthless weakling I am
Leaves me asking why I'm here
Plead and cry for cooperation
Detached and losing those I hold dear.

This sick fixation warps me
Health suffering consequences
Any asset absent was robbed or wrecked
Drugs crushed every last one of my defenses.

Going crazy to find relief
Addiction pulls miles of nerves
It was my own ill judgement that led me here
In a way what I deserve.

I found comfort in orange-capped needles
Counting down points til zero in the box
Began to lose my personality
My old self misplaced or sold; I forgot.

I am not stupid, at least I wasn't before,
Honestly, I promise, it is the drugs.
Think their tendrils reach my brain to the core
Shoo them then later feel in my skull a tug.

I know what I have to do
Problem is, it's hard,
Don't know why I can't pull free
The reason addicts are how they are.

I am afraid I'll forever be a slave
Too far gone to break empty routines
Knew at the start but thought there was a way around
The loopholeless addiction gene.
Why is addiction genetic?
Star BG Feb 2019
Breathing deep
to rub the gene in mind, I did
seeing a vision amazing.

She had long flowing hair
and eyes like sparkling diamonds.
Her heartbeat was a song matching mine
and her lips were candy sweet.

Breath expanded to see her image
as balance to knees became necessity
As her body was masterpiece
worthy of a Michelangelo sculpture.

Her ******* were like prize winning fruit
ready for harvest.
And with breathed deeper still
moments of tensions melted away.

Indeed, she was a gift
I readied self to have.
Prayer of gratitude echoed
as instantly
doorbell tickled ears.
It was her in flesh.
My wish came true.
Inspired by poem of TS Poetry- a gifted poet  Thanks
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2018
If anyone wonders,
Still single !

Just reply,
The best GENE
I’m in search of
Genre: Experimental
Theme: The chosen one
A Simillacrum Apr 2018
Who is all alone?
Solipsism slept with me
Community then rose the sun
The thorned and black roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The difference between self pity and sadness
The black and thorned roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The milk of the mother of the world
Community then rose the sun
While solipsism slept in me
Who is all alone?

(The Suspicious Oracle groaned, the body and the mouth. They came to rest on the line between the poles. No grimace. No grin. No light deep, deep in the eyes. The Suspicious Oracle pushed an object across the table toward the audience. An old coffee tin turned black with paints and oils. Centered in bright yellow, the word TIPS. All around it, simple symbols were scratched out in metal. Fingers. Toes. Currency. A *****.)

Coin for a fortune?

(One of the drifters at The Suspicious Oracle's table gifted a coin to the tin. The Suspicious Oracle smiled, and shifted back into the shadows.)

Thank you.

(The Suspicious Oracle reached into their jacket and produced a card printed on one side with a pair of staring eyes. They slid it toward the drifter with the eyes turned up. The drifter flipped the card and read it to herself.)


I'd like to thank my grandpa, Arnold Gene Evans, for teaching me lessons that no one else could. And if they could, they wouldn't bother. Here's to you, big guy. The memories of smiles, sun, and the cool breeze remind me every day that my gray is gold to some. And that's enough.

~ W.
What a moment of excitement it must have been?
When for the first time,* light these shy eyes must have seen
When for the first time, warmth from these hands must have poured
When for the first time, this lowly tongue must have recited its initial word
When for the first time, voice and sound these humble ears must have heard
When for the first time, beliefs within this tiny heart must have met and stirred
When for the first time, lips of this child must have touched and smiled
When for the first time, body of this youth must have become styled
What aΒ Β m o m e n tΒ Β of excitement and O’ Jamil what a scene
Truly, could all this be theΒ Β w o r kΒ Β of a gene?

βœ’ ℐamil Hussain
Next page