#quickwrite
As a kid I believed the moon was made of cheese.
With age I learned it's just a frigid rock.
As a child I remember gazing at stars, whispering please.
As though the universe could really hear me talk.
Rainbows were pure magic.
Each one held a *** of gold.
Growing up is inherently tragic.
Splendor becomes same old same old.
Oct 16, 2021
Oct 16, 2021 at 9:42 AM UTC
Lay me under the night sky and I'll make a home within the stars
I'll find solace in the faint wind-chimes echoing into oblivion
I'll make tunes from the passing cars going 25 through puddles
I'll sing to the rattling of the leaves doing somersaults in the wind
I'll dance to the howling of the wind blowing through the trees and houses
I'll look up into the endless void of the sky and close my eyes
I'll wait for the moon to call me home
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 7:20 PM UTC
The story we read in class today talked of the narrator's father
seeing his home of Italy as an old country he left behind
to carry on with what he started in the USA.
I'm not so sure that that's good.
When you forget where you come from, you forget yourself in a way.
There was a part of you that grew up and learned about life where you
used to preside.
Why would you want to lose that?
Thinking about it now, I do realize an obvious answer;
perhaps your hometown wasn't too great of a place
for someone like you, or maybe growing up there had bad
experiences.
In my mom's case, she left behind the city for the country.
She grew up in (REDACTED) with people she knew for forever.
But she always told me that she knew that as soon as she left for college,
she wasn't going back to that place.
Having to go out and buy cigarettes for your parents because they
don't have their driver's license will do that to a person I guess.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 9:16 PM UTC
I've sat once again
at the foot of my mother's old typewriter
journals of ideas scattered at my feet
The letter A is missing
I never realised the effect of one letter
the ripples it causes in an ocean
How it changes my writing, what I need to say
I dreamt of waves a few nights ago
At first they terrified me
but as they reached me
they were gentle and soft
welcoming like an old friend greeting me with a hug
I hope he is my missing letter
The ripples and waves in my ocean
and when he is not around
I am without
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC
They say it’s what we strive for.
It’s what we desire.
It’s what we chase.
It’s what we need.
Its why we live.
Love.
It hurts.
It grows.
It changes over the years.
But it’s always love.
To cry.
To laugh.
To smile.
To break down at 3am in a shower, wondering to yourself what is wrong with the universe.
The feelings attached to this idea, painful yet most exhilarating.
Nothing of what you don’t already know though.
So why?
Why love be the important concept in us human-beings?
Because it’s passion.
It’s hope.
It’s faith.
It’s the base of our life’s purpose.
Why do anything in life if not searching for more dept?
Looking in-between the lines for happiness.
From the moment we open our eyes till our last breath, it’s what we desire, chase, and need.
Its why we live, because till the end, it’ll always save us.
Love saves us.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 11:20 PM UTC
I have taken back my life
so much that the flowers have died
they lay lifeless on the counter
the same way i did as they bloomed
Is it selfish
that I really don't mind
the way they droop
The longing they carry
or the dark discolouration of petals
holding the open hands
outstretched by life itself
Goodbye flowers
it's been real
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
fidgeting is my specialty
if there was an Olympic competition for anxiously
biting nails to the bone,
I would take the gold.
my biggest fears revolve around
other humans;
talking on the phone is like piloting
a fighter plane towards the city
and you know it is proven
you will crash into a skyscraper
with a hundred different daycare centers
within its walls.
I know that's a terrible thing
but now you know how I feel.
I have this disability,
the ever-present feeling of fear
radiating from my core to my tips.
Its un-ignorable,
i can't wait to wake up one day
and not remember what it is like
to want to go back to bed and hide.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Not same am I Renee
Same sane not, who is this Renee know do not know of
Humanism does define Renees sum up sort of
Her travels though this life doe not contain great lies
Unheard voice leaves it’s messages in depth when least expect
If you’re wishing to seek who’s Renee to who you speak
Take a seat , learn to breathe
Repeat after me
Woo-saaaaa ,
woo-saaa
Light shutted sight in follow for seconds
Enjoy the earth from your surrounds
Talk little out loud , beginning with name of whom you seek
Desire to hear the message from your head
All ears. You’re pretty clear
I’m near
Renee that remain with depth
Stayed with true care
Rooting for you to have the very best that which whatever you define it to be
You mean more to me
To scare me off or cause fear
I am not lost
Or scared to seek beyond
Just here for here
Whenever you may seek or be need
Don’t be prideful
The Renee you do not know
The Renee you know of from once
They both and other forms , do not judge
Purely goldly just love .
*nudge *
Stay up
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC
Here’s a good one for ya
Y’all heard this one before in fact
“ you are here for a purpose, we are all here for a better purpose “
Well what purpose ?
Something you ask people back & let sit in the back of your head wondering answers as for what and why .
Am I right ?
How many of ya have found your answer ?
If you haven’t , are you content with the unknown
See, that statement is what we all hear
Something we’re told when we are in dumps and about to give up
And even though it can’t be stated with an answer it’s something that sort of lifts us up .
And what’s crazy to me is ,
What’s my purpose for walking this earth
That’s no longer a question for me
I have my answer, I know and am aware of my answer to that question .
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
she runs a blade
along the side of truth
tearing seams to separate
the situation from semantics
tossing context
so I am nothing more
than a consequence
of bad behaviour,
an example of pain’s twisted path
reduced from a person
to a speed bump,
slowing her life plan
a hangnail on the hand
that feeds
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
Thanksgiving day.
One we truly can not forget.
With the thin air of winter coming through,
The mist cold and wet.
The candles burn bright,
As we dig into this neat feast.
Our faces stuffed up,
Until we can not eat.
We are thankful for everything that would take too long,
Just to say.
Oh we are thankful for it all,
On Thanksgiving day.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
The pencil illustrated
Across graceful Paris
Despite paper developed
A fire grew
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
A little boy stand there,
withering away in grief.
It wasn't his fault.
He didn't know,
That it was here time...
Her time to go.
Will the boy ever love?
Will he ever see the sun again?
On a dark day like this,
There was no sun.
No light,
Only darkness,
And the cold reminder of the sound of a gun.
There was no way of stoping it,
For the bullet was too strong.
Yet,
The boy still griefs over what can not be undone.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
I wonder if, when the sun rises,
it brings a little something
back from the east.
Do its golden rays have stories
it wishes to tell, or lessons or gifts
to give us when it gets back?
I guess what I want
is to know that it remembers
and thinks of all of us
while it is gone.
Or does it shed all memory
of its time spent with me?
Does the sun come up
out of duty or love?
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 4:33 PM UTC
At this late hour
We tarry over tea and
Enchase each other
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
between the book stacks
(in the reading corner of the coffee shop)
i sipped a mug of chamomile and honey tea
(maybe too fast)
you heard the muttered ****
(pardon my french)
a napkin suddenly appeared
(it was between Dahl and Dickinson)
the smile was unintentional
(i meant to keep my frown, really)
how could i resist those dimples
(and your charming way around puns)
funny how things work out
(or don't)
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
I'm not taken aback by the beauty of the sun or moon.
But that's okay, at least I've learned in time that there are very little differences between objects labeled mine and days considered wasted time. Entitlement is a false concept paralleling a religious purgatory.
That's not the point anyways. I'm left with unbearable heat and a pool of thoughts best resembling some sort of molten pudding left out in the sun for weeks of stifling inattention.
Let it just be known that the smell was not my intention.
Regardless of what fills your nostrils ephemerally, keep in mind that this stench haunts me perpetually. It's apathy towards my sensitive skull stifles me. It's as if I was able to just shake off these shadow-inducing invaders like a bad habit. But no matter how much you try to **** a shadow, it's always there following you. Breathing on you. Casting oxygen upon your neck until there's nothing but sweat and fear left to expose.
With such an affinity to what darkness lies behind me, there are few words to authentically compose.
How can I continue? How can the beat stay in rhythm and my words stay in tune when I'm a butterfly stuck in a cocoon? If these hollowed walls could speak I bet they'd entertain the idea on meaningless entrapment.
Go now. My words for this horrid state of mind have run dry. They do nothing but mask themselves and then exponentially multiply.
So leave me for the beauty of the sun and the moon. I'll never wish anything more than a simple, concurrent release of everyone from his or her respective cocoon.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
What's wrong with me?
I pour my heart
take my time
On the ignored
poems of mine
I take 5 minutes
just write some lines
They trend so quickly
these nonsense poems
Unrefined
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC