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- Poetry > Free Verse
Passion robs the mind, Yet this passion Is a Gain. For by covering the eyes of Logic, The true muse, Goddess of Wisdom, May emerge And lead the possessed Away from a world of possession And show him One of Inner Truth. She, this devious gypsy, Is Love. Silently, she creeps upon us... - Poetry > Free VerseBeauty bites. God, how beauty bites. It sends a sane man crawling to the river, Crying out in an ecstasy of agony And of joy. Like that of a blind dog, His body knows not where it's headed, But only that his soul is much too strong for his prisonous flesh to remain composed. He ca...
- Poetry > Free VerseI'm in love. I have to write. This ink Is the blood of my very being, Poisoned by love for an illusion, Yet strengthened by the poison. It's on my breath, On my words in the air, And on this page. The pain I wish to stay. I implore it to call my veins its torturous, beautifu...
- Poetry > All PoetryGlasses. Contacts. Beer. Wine. Man. Woman. Baby. A blind. Near. Far. Above. Below. What we see Is what is there? This is unknown. Perception Relativity Judgment Desires Intelligent Tipsy Confused Or mired? If what we see is not the same And what we want no one can...
- Fiction > RomanceThis place made Veronica feel alive like only one person had ever made her feel alive before. The blood pounding in her ears was more real to her than the wedding march that shattered against the walls pressing in around her, although it was this song that tore viciously at her nerves and pointed ev...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionA metallic clanging cut the stillness of the night. Taran knew that sound. She heard it every time she slid down the bridge support and walked across the suicide net to where she now sat, her feet dangling hundreds of feet above the icy-cold water. But this sound came from a bigger body than hers. S...
- Poetry > All PoetryWhom did you reflect today? Recall! Oh mirror that hangs there on the wall Though many faces you have seen And many times the same have been To look, they have changed, one and all. Filling the room with your shameless sprawl You care not of the souls you spall But souls, exposed, cry in a...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionAa Bb Cc Dd… Those were the very first things I saw when I walked into my first day of kindergarten all those years ago. I was only a little five-year-old at the time. My brown hair stuck out in all directions from under my blue baseball cap and there was already dirt on my pants. As I wa...
- Opinion > Points of ViewThere is something surreal about books. They can take you to places you’ve never been. You can learn lessons from them. They can make you feel things that you’ve never felt before. They can make you dream. They can inspire you. They can bring you purpose. But what happens when the book is put...
- Poetry > Free VerseThe golden fields Sparkle in the light of day. Though we whiz past them, Allowing ourselves only a tease, Only a glance at them And their beauty, I know that their likeness, Their beauty and their magic Can never be captured. Not on screens Nor on billboards, Never to be caught By the sn...
- Poetry > Free VerseAs I gaze out of the window Of this coach that takes us away, I cant help but marvel at our world. The fields, The trees, The mountains Are all a part of us, Of who we are, Always. The people in the fields, Squatting, Harvesting the gifts of out Mother, Caring for those parts of us, Of ...
- Poetry > Free VerseWhat is friendship? Togetherness, belonging, shared experiences. But it's more than that; It's listening, it's learning, it's loving. Unconditional acceptance. Letting them become a part of you While your own seed blossoms in them In the heart of a friend. For one who tak...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionDavid Martin was lost. There was no other way to put it. He had tried denying it for days now, a month, or was it only a few moments? Time itself seemed to have shot off at rocket speed, leaving David behind in a zone of timelessness. He heard the ticking of the clock on the wall above his cluttered...
- Poetry > Free VerseNight. Dark, mysterious, foreboding,dangerous. But also comforting. It embraces, it comforts, it hides. No faces to judge. It brings dreams in which to escape, times in which to reflect, privacy. There is something strange and special about night. One can speak of things at this time more freely tha...
