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Mahesh Hegde Jan 2014
Taking a deep drag from a Chillum,
I gazed at its structure made of pure soil and water.
I do that every time I decide to take a ride into space.
Closing my eyes I take a drag to burn all the herb,
And the smoke creates the scene my eyes wished to percieve,
Distance to far away galaxies is hard to achieve,
But hyperdrive makes it a bit easier, I love its grace.
I catch the speed of light, Ive made a slight change in the drive systems a year before.
All this for what.? To touch the fading past and bring it back to life.
If I raise my speed even by 1 mm per second now I will be faster than light,
Oh but look, Theres comes a black hole,
It wants to hold me in its grasp.!!
But hey devil, I am fast,
But then the stars laugh,
And then the mirror like nebula at a safe distance from the black hole,
But Enormous enough to show my reflection,
Shows me that I am stagnant in the gravity of the black matter.
**** I didnt take with me the machine to soak energy from antimatter.
Even after this speed when I was so close to touch the waivering past,
Plans were at the point to undergo failure without a plan be to save it,
To touch the before and come again into now was the decision,
At this frightening moment I laugh at my frivolous precision,
All that i can do now are three things,
Stay stagnant here with this speed,
Slow down and end up giving myself in the gravity of black hole,
Or boost ahead to stay in the past forever.
Fate and time tease me creating this sarcastic moment and enjoy this entertaining view,
And then I give a confident smile before opening my eyes, sitting in the present, saying, "That was so close. PHEW.!"
Colm Sep 2019
I love when colored salmon spawn
And leap with ease over towns on high
With rippling waves and glistening sheen
How they bound between these rocky outcrop clouds
And spread their whispy tendril fins
Across the cascading pinkish sky
I love the night just before it breathes
Quiet as waivering gills unseen
When the salmon color seeps into the sky
See?

https://imgur.com/gallery/S9fplYn
Megan Mae Jan 2011
You came out of the blue...


John sat up in the double bed, he was panting. What a dream he’d had. He looked to his left, his girlfriend Casey still slept soundly and undisturbed by his awakening. With care he climbed from the sheets and walked from the room. Once the door to his and Casey’s room was closed securely, John started down the hallway to the common room. John, his two friends Henry and Chris, along with Casey and Henry’s steady girlfriend Nana; had all rented out a multi-apartment on the beach for their summer vacation. The spacious three beds, two baths, with kitchen and common room condo was a life saver for the vacationing students. It was on the cheap side and had an amazing view of the Atlantic Ocean from their own personal balcony. At first he thought his dreams were from the lore one of the natives had told them to scare them off, to stay at another hotel more inward off the shore, lore of the Water Woman. But they were modern college students nothing would happen to them.


It was the balcony that John retreated to when he woke, grabbing beer before he opened the slider; he took care not to make too much noise, then closed the door behind him and walked into the night. He closed his eyes as he felt the simple breezes brush against his skin. It was strangely refreshing to the apartment’s heat and he took a seat on one of the balcony chairs. The sound of the waves seemed to echo through this soft wind, calling him closer to the edge of the balcony. John reclined back in the chair, placed his beer on the side table and closed his eyes once again, trying to imagine exactly what woke him.

He remembered blurs, blues, and a beautiful girl with blonde hair.

This is what confused him, Casey, his girlfriend of three years, had dark chocolate hair cut in a cute super short style that was no more than an inch off her head, with her bangs dangling over her eyes. But this girl in his dream, she had vibrant blonde hair, long down to her waist, wavy, free. John’s eyes shot open. He had no idea what was going through his mind. He looked at the beer to his side and sighed. “I’ve had one to many,” He’d also had this same dream for weeks now, and he couldn’t put his finger on it, it was like the visions were haunting him.

It was then he heard the high pitch tone. What should have been annoying and painful ended up intriguing him, he sat up, somehow sobered. The tone turned to a multi toned melody. John turned toward the ocean, where the music seemed to be coming from; that’s when he saw her.

The mystery girl was walking with her feet just touching the water. She wore a simple white dress that fell freely around her body. The moon was full and bright that night and John stood, leaning over the edge of the balcony and looked down at the girl. She stopped and gazed up at the sky. John looked closer, realizing he was holding his breath, only to watch as she turned and looked up at him. He was on the fourth floor of the building, and she seemed to be looking right at him. His heart pounded. John had no idea what was running through him, but from what he could see in her eyes, she looked like she was crying. In seconds he rushed through the sliding door, pulled on a pair of denim jeans and a belt and his flip flops, grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

John skipped the elevator, it would take too long, and by the time he reached the first floor the girl would be gone, and he darted down the steps. When he reached the lobby nothing in his way stopped him from making it out to the beach in the back. Once his feet hit the sand he stopped, looked out over the beach to find her. He was panting, his lungs hurt from the running, but he didn’t care, he had to find her. He started out closer to the water, she was nowhere to be seen. “Where the hell?” he choked as he felt the water lick at his feet. It was cool, chilly in the light wind. How could she be gone? This beach ran for miles, clear and open with the moonlight…he’d see her if she continued either way, even if she ran. He turned looking out to the ocean, she wasn’t there either.

He was about to give up, turned to return to his room, when just as he turned to head back to the building, she stood right behind him. John had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. She looked to be around her early twenties, her blonde hair cascading down her body, a form which now closer and defined by the moonlight was even more intoxicating then before. Her white dress wasn’t thick at all, practically a shift or slip in material. He could see more than he bargained for. But her eyes, those almond green jems, they took his breath away more so then her appearance. Her lips were moving, he didn’t hear words, he heard notes, music, a melody similar to the one from the balcony. She moved closer to him, her eyes so sad as she reached for his face. Her fingers on his cheek made his spine tingle.

“Miss,” he forced, his voice waivering. “What are you doing out here? It’s not safe for a woman like you,”

“Why did you come?” she asked sadly. John didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come? You shouldn’t have come.” John melted at her voice, it was almost as beautiful as her singing.

“You looked like you were lonely.” He said finally.

“I am,” her eyes seemed to seep sadness. He couldn’t understand why. What he would give to see her smile.

“Miss are you alright? Do you need me to walk you back to your place?” he asked absently. The thoughts of his girlfriend Casey back in the room four floors up seemed to vanish. He watched as her lips slowly smiled, her eyes sadder still.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” she asked. He watched as her fingers laced around the thin straps of her shift, she seemed to be taking the gown off. He flinched, she paused, her smile still overpowering her horribly sad eyes. She let her white teeth shine as she slowly stepped back into the water. “Come swim with me,” her voice was like a song alone, no instrumental, no notes needed. She let her shift fall to the water, it floated there before she stepped out of it stepping back into the waves. John was trapped in her gaze, unable to look away, absently following.

He was chest deep by the time she was neck deep in the water. “Follow me,” she cooed. He only saw her eyes, barely paying attention the waves grew angrier.

By the time he noticed the horrible weather, the rain, the lightning, the raging waves, it was to late. The woman had embraced him, pressed her lips against his, pulling him deeper in the raging waters. And though he wanted to get out of the cold water, he swam deeper. He followed the beautiful woman of his dreams.


The next morning Casey woke to find John missing. Chris, Nana and Henry all went searching for him, no note, his key’s missing, his flip flops gone. Casey had a horrible feeling that he was gone for good. She didn’t fully trust this gut feeling until the police found one of his flip flops farther down the beach washed up on the shore.

The students left the place, unable to find their friends. What they didn’t know was that he was looking up at them, in each wave that encased Casey’s feet, he looked up sadly drowning in his tears invisible to the eyes of his friends, pained that he’d never see this girl ever again, and he was swept away once again by the tide.
All because he didn’t hear of the lore of the Water Woman.
Prose or Short Story, you pick, but please tell me what you think.- From Water Woman
Meg B Nov 2014
Oh,
how conflicted is the soul
of a poet,
for we yearn for nothing more
than to share the deepest depths,
our nakedness and rawness in
the beautifully
tragic love we feel,
but how much do we
try to individualize
that that lies inside, to make ourselves
stand out, for we
experience the world in sensory means
beyond the normal comprehension
of those around us;
how badly we wish for our
word choice and alliteration
to breathe life into the persons
who never hopefully
comprehend our creativity,
for we are arrogant in our
supernatural secret-keeping,
in our mind games and
manipulation.
Oh, how I bless my soul,
a poet lost
deep in the depths of my own
emotion,
of my never-waivering devotion,
to being the most uniquely recognized
and desperately bittersweet
wide-eyed doe
that ever did aggressively
permit the world
to melt so fervently into a home
within her.
Rachel Hannah Mar 2013
Sometimes after I've been sitting with her a while,
I swear she calls to me.
I am sprung off of her obscene beauty,
under the influence of her grandiose blues.
The crush of her might upon the anchored
cascades into the mist of syllables,
Her fawning noblemen hold their waivering arms out beckoning me.
She roars with tumultuous lust;
she for I, and I for her.
I don't know how much longer I can resist her request
that I fling myself from this loose soil
into her rapturous grasp
and allow her to envelope what remains.
Riding through the storm
Riding through the rot
Riding through the land mines
Riding through the dark clouds

Never lose hope in the Hope

Never waivering in faith
Never waivering in courage
Never waivering in perseverance
Till victory is brought to our coast

Our sun shall rise and shine
Our day shall come in fulfilment
Our glory shall appear on wings
Flying in victory of a glorious dawn.
AtlJorj Jul 2016
Red
Red is unique.
Red is love,
But also anger.
It's passion.
I've dyed my hair red
5 times and my father says,
"You're being fake."
I am a force to be reckoned with,
I do not answer to fake
Red is unique and he doesn't see this.
You can't make purple a natural color for hair
And you can't make brown an unnatural color
But you can soak me in ginger
And make me a glorious fire truck
Let me will rain on others.
When I started wearing makeup
It was a passion I couldn't afford
So I ignored it.
I would hide in the bathrooms though with the few things
I could buy myself
And I'd mock my Father.
Red lipstick made me a *****.
I didn't wear it in public,
But on that bathroom floor I flaunted it.
Pink didn't look right on me
And purple made my teeth look yellow.
Red was bold though.
No one misses red lipstick,
Not even on an unfamiliar face.
Red's not my favorite color
Or anything.
But everything I do will always be red.
Red will hold my hate.
Red will show my compassion for anyone who was kind
And lent more than a judging glance
I am a thousand different waivering things,
But red will always be me.
LA Brown Oct 2014
He saw...
an over made-up clown, eyes caked in shadow, lips redder than reality, cheeks on fire.

She was...
hiding the pain of her appearance, trying to look like the "norm", feeling hideous and needing a mask.

He heard...
her voice shrill and loud, her attitudes obtrusive, her opinions waivering with the crowd.

She was...
desperate to be noticed, drowning in self-doubt, craving reassurance, acceptance.

He felt...
she was cold and callous, harsh with her words, dark and unloving.

She was...
hurt to the point of no return, a soul full of love with no one to love, no one to trust.

He left.

She was already gone.
danie Oct 2010
You are my wolf
I'm scared, it's dark
Hot night, humid air
Thick with distrust
Pitch black suffocating
Not even a star to guide me
Icy air down my neck
Your eyes glow bring
My heart beats faster
The forest rustles
Whispering warnings
"This feels like doom"
Trust forever waivering
Stomach butterflies
Really just moths...
I can't have you
My turn to run away
Colm Oct 2019
A waivering head
With memories coursing though every finger
A grip on sleep once lost
Is held directly in hand
Though it cannot hold a candle to the perfect dark
But to pay the waking watchman's toll
Over and over again
Is no good for a weary traveler stead
Instead it's said, once lost in dreams
Such a peaceful hopeful magnificence
May be never found again
Let alone remembered upon awaking
It's hard to sleep in such a manner. Slightly torturous in truth.
Lady Misfortune Mar 2018
I feel warm and fuzzy
Absolutely comfy
Still a hole in my chest
But I think it's easier to rest when I'm happy

I want my ice to melt for someone
I'm a little too frozen
And my sweetness is always waivering

Vanilla wafers and sunlight
Rainbow, Daisy's and childhood pines

But sometimes I'm in the dark
Where my feelings fall apart
Fear cripples the mind

I'm burning
Frozen in time

Hell cages me and the snow storm is raging
Trying to have patience
Success is awaiting

Bittersweet butterscotch monkeys
Butterflies and cookies
Pineapples and bunnies

The wolf is howling at the moon
Stars guide
But my solar system is unaligned

Welcome to my nightmare
The sweetest thing

Because bad holds beauty
Good and naive and the clueless
Created 7.15.18

— The End —