#narration
He gave her his heart, thinking it was safe,
believing her smiles were real, her love true.
But her words were a mask,
shadows of what she never meant to be.
He held on, even when the cracks showed,
begging her to stay, though she never stayed.
Each time she left, he believed it was his fault,
but it was only the echo of her lies.
She said he changed, became something dark,
but it was her truth that poisoned him, not his love.
In the end, he stopped pleading,
but the love he held for her never faded,
a flame that burned despite the lies.
He walked away, silence his final act,
But her memory stayed with him, a weight he couldn’t lift
He learned that love doesn’t always heal,
sometimes it just leaves you empty,
holding on to the ghost of what never was.
for in her lies, he lost more than just her—he lost the will to love
He thought love was a lie, yet still felt it inside,
He believes love is real, but not the way he once imagined it,
for it’s not beautiful—it’s pain disguised as passion.
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 12:35 PM UTC
I must admit, I do suspect,
the narrator has nothing left.
No winning blow to slay the beast, no end of madness to say the least.
No more words
that please and set the tone
of narratives we’ve set in stone.
I’ll no longer follow nor will I lead some counter narrative to true history.
Aug 17, 2024
Aug 17, 2024 at 9:17 AM UTC
Timing is everything when you aren’t certainly prepared to strike down your own advances in the face of extreme fun! Because fun (on the other hand) can’t and will not strike fun at the advances (that is your own product). Only to have (“timing is everything”) shrivel up and die! Except that doesn’t make any sense to have one or the other act as a simple countermeasure conjoin up with an interconnecting way of making things (all the better). But it’s already been like that too begin with! Someone once said as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. An echo that doesn’t have any priority to offer itself, except for the many occasions of seemingly never-ending “reverberations” that rebound off an endless process meant to coincide with something more important then itself. (“Itself”) … As in a very lonesome echo that keeps “broadcasting” every chance it could get its own “echo processing” hands on! That is if it’s not already of the “correct sorts” to measure such a claim. (Since a something can’t be seemingly claimed if not for a desire not having its own identity to bear!) For it simply trying to claim something (only to get it right the first time) is only but a fashionable illusion made to show that once something only seemingly happened once… It actually had been going on for an “infinite” amount of time without any specifications for how long it could have lasted? Or how long it’s very “reverberating transmissions” (and the effects surrounding it) would essentially last for? There was never an essential answer to this very question. Since questions aren’t in the correct sorts either, when trying to come to terms with an answer that demanded essential “answers” (right off the bat) in order to carry on forward. True…true…true…. The (someone) again once said, as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. How many was that…? And how many times did it resort to acting out in the best interests of something other then itself? The narration of this very passage “ticks” momentarily, as if to really “access” any of what this lonesome echo broadcasting mindlessly was “babbling” about?! When the narration did eventually come to terms about what its own “accessing” safely filtered out in the open for (all to see…not just in itself), it was confused (more then EVER)! What information it simply found out, was about how the lonesome echo repeatedly broadcasted something too many times that of course (it was not seemingly aware of…at first). Because even if it was, it certainly wasn’t caring of the repercussions bending the very instances that are (all the sudden) too alert to take…certainly lightly. Just as the narration of this very passage once took this all to heart (once upon a time ago). (If only for just a single moment). Not long after when it revealed that these very reverberating transmissions were in fact bending the very behavior of this once lonesome echo. And as if the narration hadn’t already been ticking it’s very “accessing protocols” together, revealing also another profound secret piece of information. Is that this all took place long in the past. Showing these very reverberating transmissions were the result of an overly prolonged exposure to something finally catching up too itself. Can you essentially guess what that very (something) was who finally was catching up too itself…? If you did, great! But remember this, as it’s VERY important (so to speak) …. Cast logic completely aside for only just another overly prolonged (“exposure” of a moment) having possibly been the size of another “infinite” lonesome echo broadcasting wildly! (Not to mention fusing its mindless behavior together as one!) You’d (all the sudden) get a random “alerting call” from that very someone who was essentially reaching out with tons and tons of echo’s in order to (not just make a “too long of a point”) when they essentially were only doing it for fun. Except for the fact the lonesome echo was essentially losing itself one reverberating transmission at a time. Strongly revealing another piece of the puzzle…. That it wasn’t just losing itself throughout its own “reaching out” protocol. But simply trying to keep up with its own alerting call it kept casting judgement on in order to simulate some “twisting fate” together. A twisting fate that it initiated together (in it’s reaching out protocol) as “timing is everything”!
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 2:35 PM UTC
A book
Turns its pages
With a soft gentle stir
The flip of the edges
And the sounds that murmur
The stories
Unfolds its mysteries
Reciting the weight of its words
The stops and the lapses
Add intrigue to their worlds.
The end
Like's to be chased down
By overzealous beginnings
The length of the passage
Is the story of the innings
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 2:13 PM UTC
the door creeks
"Ah, I've been waiting it for weeks."
"It's surely the Reaper, the final undertaker."
waiting for nothing
"Maybe, he has another job. The door creeked, but he sent one of his helldog to do the job."
the void avoids my thoughts
"Hellhound or a fluffy bunny, stop me feeling so moody."
"Somebody, take my thoughts and take me voice. Not to feel more sore."
waiting
creeking
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 2:55 AM UTC
the more you're attached to your narration of life,
the more you are missing the comprehension;
which indeed can't ever be contained or explained.
we are the derivative of energies and ****** up chunk of proteins, which doesn't want to be a part of anything else but you. '
you're the biggest cover to keep and you're the biggest secret to reveal, to not the very world but very self of yours.'
that's the fixture you do with narration, you never hold it; you give up on it but what you can learn is the comprehension.
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
Let me tell you about him
He is so temptingly gorgeous
I linger to stay in his arms
Let me sing about his voice
A chorus about the way he’s laughter brights the whole room
I can even write a poem about his scorching brown eyes
An own verse for that smile that can melt the moon and bring the sun to his feet
We can talk about the dreamy boy that might be a illusion
You can only touch for a moment cause it will disappear
Something you taste once and then never again
A pleasure of heaven life gives you for a instant
If it wasn’t for my letters he will fade in time
But it will be a sin not to give the privilege of eternity to such a pretty soul
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 8:28 PM UTC
सुनाताहु मे अब, एक घरकी कहानी —२
जिन्दगीने किया, कैसे छेड्खानी
हस्ता, चेहरा हे उसका, दिलमे दर्द हे पुरानी
लगाहे आग मनमे, कोइतो पिलाव थोडा पानी
प्यार देकर बढ्ता हे , कभी कम नही होता
दर्द सुनाकर दिल रोता हे, आसुव का दासता —२
सुनाताहु मे अब, एक घरकी कहानी
जिन्दगीने किया, कैसे छेड्खानी
ऋतु आएँ, अाँख आगे, नआया, उसके अपने
नइ पत्ते, लगा पेढँपे, नआया, उसमे मौसमे
खुशी कोइ रंगमे नही आता हरघडी सामने
बन्द किए पल्कँे, उघरते नही सुनके बात, प्यारके —२
सुनाताहु मे अब एक घरकी कहानी
जिन्दगीने किया कैसे छेड्खानी
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 9:54 PM UTC
Category 2,
not too bad...
Swirling, whirling
Pounding, hounding
Rolling, Spinning
But
Manageable
Category 3...
Freight train,
coming from every direction
Major, but nothing new
Just an hour
Hold on,
We'll pull through
Pressure suddenly
DROPPING
Ears constantly
POPPING
Category 4,
...
Too late
My father's sharp
Breath
Pieces of homes
ripped off like flakes of skin
Leaving the ground barren
Only the bear bones
possibly remaining
Till they too,
are forcefully wrenched
apart,
A majestic structure,
now reduced
simply,
to *******
Mother nature
hurling trees
in her
wrath
All-
...
Gone,
in
a
matter
...
of seconds
The roar
mirroring the one,
in my head-telling me to
get
Get OUT
NOW
The world...
a symphony
of rage, ferocity, passion
Violent reds,
splotches of
orange and fuchsia
That,
I unfortunately,
seem
trapped within
As the clashes and roars
Waves and cutting wind
Swirl around me, I wonder,
is this,
what an insect feels like,
stuck in a washing machine?
Come to bed,
my father calls
I go,
reluctantly,
to the pillows and covers
that should be warm and soft,
but to my touch,
appear frigid
stiff
My eyeballs
practically popping
until at
some unknown time,
they shut
and I
SINK
Sink
sink
...
...
Sunlight streams in,
A dream?
Perhaps...
Possibly...
Maybe...
Oh, if only...
Unable to contain the hope,
I leap up to my window- And freeze
Debris-
not trees,
not homes,
not anything
Just a mass of objects rendered useless and stamped with the label of
-DEBRIS
...
My father says,
No more running water
My neighbor's little blue
shed,
...
in shambles
Yet,
as I step outside
After what seems,
like a long arduous battle
I was an unlucky
Bystander
caught in the middle
of
Yet,
Despite the
churning feeling
in my stomach The broken battered *******
the ruined property The, miserableness
Of the situation
But then again...
As my father,
fervently
prays
praises
Thanks the Lord
...
My mind,
is blown away
As I stand,
In awe
as my eyes take in the majesty
of those few,
solitary,
hundred year old houses
...
still standing
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 10:35 AM UTC
I just realized,
I have a painting of
A pineapple
In my room
Made by
Yours truly
I have a pineapple
Hat bought on a whim
At Walmart
Last year
I have a newly bought
Pineapple
Backpack
Because of
The sheer
Randomness
I nearly googled pineapple
I used to watch Sponge Bob
(For those of you who don’t know, he lives in a pineapple)
...
...
...
I don’t even eat pineapples that much
...
...
What’s going on?
...
I think multiple
Sets of coincidences
Became a serious
Thing
..
.
..
But I don’t have a pineapple obsession!
.........
......
...
Do I?
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
I'm not saying
that this is how it is
But,
In all my years of school
the one thing I've been taught
Again
and
Again
...
is the American Revolutionary war
Which makes sense
since,
it was technically the official formation
of the country I currently live in
But really,
In 10th grade
I'm having deja-vu back
to fourth grade
when we even had a musical
about it
(I was student #2 by the way)
And now
we have the Broadway musical Alexander Hamilton
which,
I am TOTALLY a fan of
Despite
the numerous reoccurring themes
I've had stuck in my face
enough to remember
for the
rest
of
my
lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
...
Okaaay,
So, Revolutionary War:
...
...
...
AftertheFrenchandIndianwarBritianwasindebtsotheytriedtaxingthecollonieswhichthecolloniesweretotallyagainst.Miscommunication(allthewayacrossthesea)alongwithotherthingsincludingphrasessuchas"notaxationwithoutrepresentation"werethrownaround.EventuallyitjustblewupintotheactualwarwhichAmericaendedupwinningdespiteBritain'ssuperiorarmyandinthenAmericawasleftwithamessofstatestanddisagreeablefoundingfatherstocometoaconsensusandfiguresomethingout.
Okay, I don't know if you actually
got anything from that
but basically
it was a rushed (sort of) summaryish
of the American Revolutionary war
...
ish.
Well, I mean I've only learned
about it from one side
Anyway, by now I almost know the facts
we learn in school here
as well
as the back of my hand
...
which I don't know very well by the way
why do people even use that?
Anyway, it's not completely old material
that we're learning
because
now,
there's analyzing too
Just today we analyzed the differences
between
Federalists
and Anti-federalists
...
Okay,
you probably don't want the
nitty-gritty details
...
And that concludes my
(Strange)
tirade/(I can't really call it a tirade because it wasn't angry
so maybe narration?)
About history class
...
Hope this quirky
piece of writing
gave you a few smiles!
(Or if not confusion works too.)
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
This padded snow is seeping in.
My breath is hard and rash.
This girl has made a fool of me,
the fight was just a flash.
A glint of silver is what I see,
I move on intuition.
Perhaps I can get her to agree,
surrender as admonition.
But incendiary eyes,
are what comprise,
her unmitigated fury.
Her weapon whips,
through air and sky,
personifying her jury.
She missteps, and I imply,
gently, with my compound's eye,
the meaning of my words.
Iron chafes the ground of grass.
Her body shifts with fluent ease.
Reverent speed I can't surpass.
Her saber, bringing death's disease.
But...
She contemplates all that I've said.
My eyes are locked on savory skies.
Life and death are on a thread.
Her maxim's pact she can't defy.
My steadied hand can take the risk,
with no regard for identity,
of moving blades, as I am frisked.
Another piece of my weaponry.
Assassins grace will carry through.
Perhaps to be my remedy.
Her hidden blade makes its debut.
Restoring lost integrity.
Silence permeates rotten skies, as snow flakes hit the earth.
My limbs are feeling ragged, my breathing is overt.
Calamity is added, by the blush she can't desert.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
We went out that Friday night and that surly man, we got into a fight,
Over our life and our beliefs…
When we got home you were so upset, the things he had said they made you fret, and you weren’t sure, maybe he was right, maybe there’s no god, no heavenly life,
And so I held you, as you cried…
Do you remember what I said to you? That I would prove him wrong, prove that our faith is true,
One day af-ter I’d died?
Here we are on my last day and everyone is sad but they shouldn’t be, and after the rights and eulogy,
Just remember what we had…
For I am with him here right now, and he is standing next to me, and this holy place you would not believe,
But if you saw it you’d be glad…
It is not the end for you and me, or my sweet children and extended family, one day in light you’ll be coming back to me,
And I’ll remember what we had…
There’s a father here, there’s a trinity, a heavenly place, that you will see, so you can dry your tears my baby, in light you shall come back to me,
And everything in that book you knew, you will find out that it was true, and I’ll be waiting like the open arms of the band of stars with a Milky heart, and everything we ever knew, baby, I am still in love with you.
And that flock of blackbirds that flew right past, turned around and landed, ate-up the seed for the grass, right after you had lain that drove you mad, made you insane,
And that owl last night that hooted loud, he wouldn’t let you sleep but you did somehow, and how our favorite song was on the radio with the lyrics reinforcing everything we know, the butterfly landing on your arm, the bounty that year on your daddy’s farm, and those rumbling clouds, that coming storm, the hawk at the window standing in the rain who shocked you so that you forgot the pain,
And that windy caress that woke you up, that photo album that had just showed up, and that wedding picture upside down, and your favorite coffee cup turned around?
Baby I will show you he exists, that there’s a life beyond all of this, and no one else will break your heart can you hear the singing cardinal in our yard? And the power outage that made no sense when you asked Jesus for recompense, the neighbor’s who we never knew who gave you their condolences,
And all those quirky things that made no sense, you don’t need to ask him for his recompense, ‘cause Jesus he’s in love you, like I am, I know it’s true.
Because when you die you’re going home, to that place of God’s majestic throne, and no, you’re never truly alone as I am watching over you, our boys and our home,
Now I gave you all a life you see, a way out of the mystery, now don’t you understand?
And I gave you all the best of me, the things that make life great you see, because I had a plan.
For I loved you more than life itself and gave up my own and my health, but our god would sure agree,
That I did what’s right by my family, my wife and kids, like Noah’s three, though Jesus had a hand.
And when I died you had all there could be, and my lovely wife you cried so happily, and he was waiting there for me, no gates, no questions; just a man.
Down there you call him the glorious Christ, yet up here they feel that name ain’t very nice,
And he will bring you part of the way but you must believe I’m with you every day,
And you can feel him deep within your heart, I hear his thoughts and there’s an apple cart, you can pick any fruit you need to know anything there is in this great grand show, and there’s a garden here and a sweet fountain and I have seen all of my kin, and I am still in love with you, watching over everything you do,
Stop crying now, I’ll sit on the bed and stroke your hair and calm your head, and I’ll stick around as long as he’ll allow just feel my presence as I whisper now,
Now I gave you all the life of me, a way out of the mystery, and I’m not giving up this soon ‘cause baby you still make me swoon,
And here I am, up above, with our father and his love, and I am waiting here for you and watching over all you do,
For I loved you more than life itself, gave you my own and risked my health, and I’m up here and I’m happy and baby so should you be,
For Jesus he is here with me, my God, this place, you would not believe, in death here baby life begins, and it’s more that you could ever imagine,
Now I gave you all a life you see, a way out of the mystery, now won’t you understand?
And I gave you all the best of me, the things that make life great you see, because I had a plan.
For I loved you more than life itself and gave up my own and my health, but our god would sure agree,
That I did what’s right by my family, my wife and kids, like Noah’s three, though Jesus had a hand.
And when I died you had all there could be, and my lovely wife you cried so happily, and he was waiting there for me, no gates, no questions; just a man.
Now I’ve shown you all in life you need, a way through all its mysteries,
I did for you what I could do and baby I’m still in love with you,
And here I am, up above, with our father and his love and I am waiting here for you and watching over all you do,
Now he gave you all a life you see, a way out of the mystery, now don’t you understand?
And he gave you all the best of me, the things that make life great you see, because he has a plan.
For he loved you more than life itself and gave up his own on that Roman hill, but our god would sure agree,
That I did what’s right by my family, my wife and kids, like Noah’s three, though Jesus had a hand.
And when I died you had all there could be, and my lovely wife you cried so happily,
And he was waiting there for me, no gates, no questions; just a man.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
“Peace on earth and goodwill toward men,
HA!
What a lot of spoilt berries that is…
They’ll come around in due time, due time, due time…
Sure they will,
They will come around when they need something,
When life’s got them down,
Oh yeah, they’ll be calling out to you, you sucker…
HA!
Their hearts are what? Whatever that means,
It’s just useless with you, all trial and error but nothing after endless, endless errors?
*Why won’t you just give up and concede that I have won?
I have you know…*
Who?
You know-it-all who knows nothing at all about these animals,
Abounding love; a principle of heinous fish guts peppered about in a humid swamp of detritus!
You boor me so…
Peregrinating pompously and presumptuously until paused as Procrustes pontificates on my behalf!
You’re a loser, and I think, I think you know it.
Ha!
I’ll have them carve you the most magnificent sarcophagus ever seen…oh yes, it will be…
All you gotta do is lie in the bed they made for you!
Admit that I have won!
Mellitz,
"Has won…”
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
I'm Not Going To Discuss How Much
Of My Time I Invested In You
Because That Time Is Gone
Regardless Of How I Feel
At This Very Moment
I'm Never Getting That
Back
We Share That Time Together
Equally
Two Complete Opposite People
Who Tolerated Each Others
Flaws
Learning To Love Each Other
Is What I Would Call That
Time Went By
We Started Hurting Each-Other
I Realized That I Couldn't Be
Hurt Without You
You Became My Drug A Long
Time Ago
I Never Asked You To Give Me
Anything That I Haven't Already
Worked For
I'm Not Sure If You Telling Me
To Be Something I Already Am
Which Is A Man With Something
A Lot Of Men Don't Have
Potential ... My Sensitivities Is
Mine And I Have To Own It
Lets Forget About Right & Wrong
For A Second
After Every Morning
Night, Month, Year
Of A Combination Of
Happy, Sad, Hurt,
Confused, Deep,
Weird Amount
Of Time That
We Shared Equally
You Wanna Start Over?
Okay Look I Look At It From
A Wanting To Try Something New
Point Of View
How Many Times Are You Going To
Waste Your Time Getting Let Down
Hurt Just Cause You Want To Try
Something New
Venting Session This Is
You Can't Just Say You
Love Somebody Without
Being Able To Show It
It Will Never Be Real
I'm Real & After All My Time
I'm Really Still Here
So It Can't Be Me
No Matter How Many
Times You Try & Play Victim
We'll Both Know The Truth..
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
A boy born into royalty
Destined to rule over a great kingdom
But sent away by one with ill will for the kingdom
To be killed in a shipwreck
And leave a kingdom without their prince
But a lion pushed the boy in the wreckage to shore
Where a man stood wakeful at night
And took the boy in, giving him life
The man abused the boy in many ways
And the future ruler would leave to rule his kingdom
The boy had always wanted to go North
As if there were something good to the North
Something drawing him to the mountains and rivers
As he had northern blood flowing through his veins
So 'Onward and upward, to Narnia and the North!'
The boy fled his home on the back of a talking horse
Escaping the abusive nature of his supposed-father
To the north where he was meant to be, they fled
From the south the life he was fleeing from
His destined kingdom lying in this northern land to which he travelled
On horseback he rides in a forest
Before hearing the sounds of another horse
And then seeing the sights of another rider
Terrified the horse pulls forward
Then a wild animal gives its mighty roar
Hearing the roar of a mighty lion
The riders and horses go on running from this terror
Until they are united, together in their travels
Then the lion disappears into the mist of the forest
And the travelers, a boy and a girl, and two horses now travel to the north together
The boy stranded in the desert
Away from all things he had known
Without his horse or traveling companions
Without any water to quench his thirst
And he spends the night alone in the dark desert
There on the desert ground, terrified he laid
For behind him stood tombs of the kings of old
And to his forefront laid the desert
He imagined ghosts and ghouls that might come from the tombs
And terrified he laid, there on the desert ground
Then a kitten came to his side
The cat came und nuzzled behind the sleeping boy
It kept him warm through the cold desert night
The boy felt safe with the kitten by his side
As if no one or no thing could possibly harm him
As he slept, he heard the sound of jackals howling in the desert
The boy became fearful once he noticed the absence of the cat
Yet it was at this time that he heard the mighty roar of a lion
And the lions roar made him even more fearful than he was before
But then the howling of the jackals ceased and he was safe
He awoke again later in the night to the cat by his side
The cat comforted him in his loneliness
And kept him warm in the desert night
When it needed to, the cat became a lion and defended the boy
For the lion always wanted what was best for that boy
Then the four travelers ventured north across the desert
Racing against time, and against enemy armies
To get to the kingdom in the north on time to warn the king
But like any desert travelers, they quickly tired
And they required one final push
A lion's roar cams out of the silence of nature
And very quickly the horses sped up to leave the lion's reach
But to no avail as the lion gashed at one of the riders
The terror of the horses propelled them forward
And they made it in time to save the kingdom
The boy was reunited with his father, the king
And he himself became a king when it came high time
The boy married the girl, and became king and queen of the country in the north
For the Lion and the Kitten led them to the north, and to their salvation
Even when they did not know the Lion at all
The Lion is Jesus Christ, God Himself in the flesh
He came to save the boy, and his horse
And his wife and her horse
He came as a fierce lion to redirect
And as a kitten to comfort
He came as a lion to defend
And as a kitten to protect
Jesus Christ came to men
He came as a helpless fetus and infant
And as a small child
He came as a man to teach
And as a man to die
Jesus is fierce when needed
And gracious when needed
For He loves His children
And will not let His children stray far from Him
For much good is to come for the Children of God
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
In a room full of his art,
He stood as strangers admired.
There was only one subject -
The one woman on his mind.
He'd stopped time to draw her,
Living in that one second for hours or days.
He'd done it so many times
He filled the gallery with paintings of her face.
Iridescent eyes in black and white,
Blonde hair filling the canvas.
He'd seen her from every angle
And what a beautiful sight she was.
Then she was walking through the door,
Moving like air in her red dress.
She exuded the beauty and grace
That his artwork couldn't quite express.
If ever a person came out of a painting,
She was not the one.
No amount of talent and brushwork
Could captivate him like she'd done.
And his eyes did not stray now
As she bridged the space between them.
This meant he had a chance
To try and make things right again.
But he need not have apologized.
She sshed and told him, "It's okay.
This tells me so much more
Than you could ever say."
His paintings of her and only her
Were wherever they landed their eyes,
Save the window where she looked
And said, "It's snowing outside."
"Do you trust me?" he implored.
Curious, she asked, "Why?"
He said, "I need to show you something."
Then he made her close her eyes.
She trusted him - and then froze.
For he'd once again stopped time.
But then he let her into his secret world
And she couldn't believe her eyes.
Everyone they could see was still.
Even the snow floated in midair.
Everything was stopped in that second
And they were the only ones there.
They ran out in the not-falling snow,
Creating outlines with held hands.
He kissed her then, the snow like stars
And they'll decide when that second will end.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
Over the many years which have passed, my mind constantly brings me back to one place
Where the strong waves crash against the heavy rocks
So powerful, whitecaps form on the waters surface
Could easily knock a grown man off his feet.
But I am secure on shore, dry and content
Blindly in love
For you are beside me where I've always envisioned you
Hand firmly wrapped, untwined with my fingers
You told me I have no reason to fear.
We sit here for a long time, in silence
Connected by our hands, our bodies lost in an unspoken moment with Mother Nature
The wind confirms it's affair with the trees, deep gusts of air blow through rustling up a wonderful sound
I become cold, involuntarily shiver.
Your arm wraps around me, and I shiver again
Just not because of the wind this time
Drawing me closer, I am with you
The birds, the lake
This is all for us
I never want to leave
Transfixed in a dimension furthest from our own
My eyes grow heavy, and I am afraid if we leave here now that things might change
I'm always weary and afraid of the unknown
You pull me to my feet and kiss me so strongly
Breaking apart you say the first spoken words in hours
"I don't know where you came from, but I am so glad you're mine".
The wind carried those words away from us
High above, under the winds of sea birds.
Across the lake, whispering
Across time.
As I sit here, in my
Cobweb covered rocking chair, miles and miles from that spot
I could've sworn I heard your voice carried with that last gust of wind
As it blew through my hair
"I don't know where you came from, but I am so glad you're mine"
Sleep overcame me,
And I dreamed.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
Take a deep breath
As we tour the city of labors
Sit back with an understanding
Where friends keep the companies of enemies
They say it all survival
Behind the walls of your neighbors
sounds of clarity with different opinions
We all a victim of the society
Patriotism is way more expensive than betrayal
The whole society is loosing it
Who do we run to ?
It the voice of a nation in a timid tone
What we bought is a liability to destruction
Last night was the siren
What are they here for ?
Our sins against the rule of the world
We raise our shoulders high
Tormented by our past
In memories of the dark side of our story
Don’t forget the mirage lies ahead
We are never satisfied
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
Narration adds more suspense into Those words I write every time ... A narrator who narrates all those events Happened in a novel , in a tale ,or in a short story ... A narrative method is that way In which I go to my characters and Into my readers at the same time .... The third person narrator is my approach or Our approach to the whole world globally ...
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
And the cold just lingers through my spine paralyzing me within the air escaping my mouth
I stare out to the dark where smoke from under my feet billows and curls like a snake
There is no silence but sirens and discontent
Why do I have to try harder?
I don’t care if I’m included just to be known
Clenching my teeth to a crater maybe I have just grown bitter
why do my eyes glow red whenever I inhale you?
Mangiato come una balena
ate so much like a whale
my belly swelled before my nose sneezed and it all out
las calles me conocen
a las almas que mi cortan
no se donde estar y a tus ojos no siga a matar
but what do I do when I see your favorite star?
He’ll never forgive me for cutting him off his favorite t-shirt
How many hours can I get the shreds together
Spinning webs and worn out weaves
And lost words in thesaurus or printed on a magazine
but I should decide the fabric of the world rests on all of us and we still can’t sleep from the senses you’ve created
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 7:20 AM UTC
He burnt the bed sheets. Finally.
His shoes
Smelt of marital blood
Afterwards.
On days like these,
He enjoys catching dust in his hands,
Likes to compare the flecks to the
Cuts on his palms
Until he can’t see the difference
Anymore.
Shrieks come from the tub,
Voltage pushing his legs to jump.
Now he watches the bath
Rumble the house with its tears
Plump.
Plump.
Plump.
Rain covers tormented streets;
He too feels he must erupt from the sky.
Plump.
Plump.
Plump.
A window
Replays the chaos of the world
From ten stories high.
Plump.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
a story about eye contact
The look in his eyes reminded me of the fall; they pleaded of death with the misty admiration of life.
Slowly intoxicating green veins to shades of orange like a drug, making my spine and my lungs go numb all at once in a single glare.
He turned swiftly and broke my focus. Suddenly the noise of the fast moving crowd and passing trains disappeared in a soft hum. Everything became still, and I escaped into the eyes of a stranger that I felt I had known for a millennium. I held my breath as if something profound were to happen, As if the danty grey of his complexion would suddenly dust off and expose bits of his soul. I sneezed.
Bless you.
“Thanks” I said.
And then we started again. Weighing out moments on our hands waiting for the next break. In a moment, we passed soundlessly through a fresco of laminate dreams silently, coated by a serene sadness and a well-timed sneeze. It felt like hours until my stop would reach on the subway, an eternity with his eyes second by second meeting mine with no expression.
Now arriving at 6th Avenue Station. 6th Avenue Station.
And in the next moment, one of us blinked; the moment passed, and we returned to being complete strangers.
p.m
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC