Jen 3d
Howling,
To
The Unknown.

Do you want
To run
With them
Tonight?

A pack
Transforming
With moonlight.

Calling you
Forth,
To join
The hunt.

Resounding,
In the night-
It’s a forest
Full of
Dirt paths
And
Dew Soaked
Leaves.

Getting Lost,
And it’s okay,
Here in
The underbrush.

“I can’t forget you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
Living here and now.

Concrete
Covering,
A Paved jungle

Of
Justifications
And
Free lance
Creations.

You open your eyes,
To discover
Reality lies.

The sun
Scorching
Your eyes.
Once upon a time
There was a robin called Bill
And he loved summer

One day when the sun
had cooled down he stood
on a garden fence

The trees were blowing
softly in the wind making
Bills feathers ruffle

Over the fence was a
railway , Bill flew over the
railtracks onto a

little tree , no trains
had passed it was a quiet
day of relaxing

But Bill got bored and
wanted to sit on top of
a fast moving train

But he could fly? why
did he want to ride on top
of a moving train?

Anyway to bills
joy , a train had appeared full
of cloudy white steam

Well little robin
I've granted you your wish , now
jump abroad please sir!

Bill sat at the top
of the train . O he loved it
and the trees smiled too

He rested his wings
and embraced the countryside
He saw lots of sheep

And cows too , even
the birds smiled at Bill , then the
train stopped , now little

robin you must now
jump off , I hope you enjoyed
your train ride , Bill jumped

off the train and said
thank you , the train rode off and
bill sat patiently

on station platform!
Now where was he , he looked up
in the now blue sky

and plates of pizzas
were being eaten by the
puffy clouds , and a

giraffe and a hippo
were having a tea party
high in the blue sky

Come little robin
Come have a cup of tea and
a slice of cheesecake

Bill flew into the
sky and had a cup of tea
with his new friends , then

it was time for bill
to fly back home , he flew all
through the night till day

He woke up on his
favourite fence , the trees were still
softly blowing in wind

He looked at empty
railway and smiled then he
flew off in the sky

If you see Bill fly
by , just remember, his a
happy sort of guy
I never know what I'm going to write TBH I began writing about a robin and went with the flow x have lovely evening <3
Inspired today after seeing a robin x
Jen 5d
Don't worry,
Anything
That you want,
Or "think"
You need,
Is all within
"A mind's reach."

A coal drenched
Back splash,
Represents
A Backdrop
In the night.

The hands of
A clock can stop,
But time
Continues on,
So close your eyes.

What is it that you're reaching for?

Transparent, Turquoise
Lines the air-
A contrast
Against
Something
Not there...

The rest is
Up to you.
Everything is cold out here. Everything is white out here.
I can no longer feel my hands, I can no longer feel my eyes.

Everything is getting worse than I thought, everything is getting colder than I thought.

I can not feel my toes, I can not feel my arms, everything is falling apart from my body,

I'm not longer a human,
I'm not longer a human,

I am getting colder,

I'm not longer a human,
Just a breath, just a breath, just a breath.
Crazy imagination ...

hugging me your vision ...
with every new morning ...
while i'm watching trees ..
seeing all sweet of birds ...
enjoying it's sings ...
as it sings for you ...
to wake up you ...
to start your day with me ...

hugging me your vision ...
my sweetheart ...
with every sip ...
of my cup's coffee ..
to feel you ...
and to smell ...
your sweet aroma ...
while your face ...
drawing into my cup ...
to put a craziness into me ...
till you get me a crazy lover ...
crazy madly lover ...
to make me ...
kiss you sweetheart ...
with every sip  ...

hugging me your vision ...
as i hug you sweetheart ...
with my lonely pillow ...

love you sweetheart ...

hazem al...
Kylie 6d
The creeping of the shadows,
to the Darks graving doom,
the presence of unknown surely seems to loom.

I feel the wrath of wretched,
I feel the spinning spoons,
written in our writing, written in our runes.
this poem describes the complexities of imagination, and how there may be a force driving us to imagine the same things to other people, how we place our imagination on the unknown.
Master, have mercy.
I am Master. I
Have no Master.

The planet
is atrocious.

I am It.

Planet Earth
is atrocious.

I am It.

Why is it so hard
to see
be yond peace?
Why is it so hard
to be
who you want?

The mind, secluded
in a prison rift
of copy paste
makes waste.

Where is my paper?
Where is my pen?
I write for me!
I repeat as if I
will soon
believe.
I write for me!
(logging on again)

The planet is horrid.
I am part of It.

Oh, Peace & War,
do we know it.

Yet with an audience,
my imagination
grows stagnant.

The once in abstract
gathers into form.

I did this misdeed.
A disservice.

Once a dreamer.
Now a journalist.
This one is for Ryan.
You make me want to run away.
That, is definitely a good thing.
A reminder that I never meant to stay.
Allesha Eman Jul 8
Find me a world of my own
Tell me my story, tell it over the phone
Let the static blur the lines
Between crowded rooms and lonely times
And if the world is looking for me
Tell them I’ll be in the clouds
Finding a place to breathe out loud
Amongst my dreams and all my visions
I will breathe in my own illustrations
So if the world comes looking for me
Tell them the Nefelibata is finally free
Nefelibata: A cloud walker. An individual who lives in the clouds of her own imagination or dreams. A person who doesn’t abide by the rules of society, literature, or art. (according to contentcatnip.com)
Aa Harvey Jul 7
Split Personalities Inside My Head


All the voices in my head,
Have now become my only friends.
The only ones who seem to care;
The only ones who knew me back then.


Lost alone with me, myself and I.
Hello, Bonjour, Guten tag and Hi.
They’re there for me when things aren't alright;
They’re there for me when I feel on cloud 9.


Technically mad, but never bored;
By all of them I am adored.
My head is full with the old and young;
They’re my friends, my family, my only loved ones.


They’re all so different, yet they’re all the same.
They’re all made up; they’re a part of my brain.
But they act so real, in the way I behave;
I live four different lives every day.


One is good and one is bad
And one I believe is a woman


And the final voice inside head,
Is the only one who speaks reason.
The only one who speaks the truth to me;
The only one who I can believe.


You see this final voice inside my head, I know is the real me.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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