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Lost RoadI walked alone for too long.Lost Road by xxdraxx
The air tastes stale and dries my lips.
The future puts its weight on me.
It feels heavy enough to sink ship.
I’ve never liked winter.
It’s always been too cold for my liking.
A catalyst for dark thoughts.
A catalyst for lonely days.
But I never let it get to me.
I always walked on
With close ones always walking behind me.
At times they seem out of sight.
At times I could almost hold their hands.
I’m always afraid of what will become of me
But music calms me.
Though today it all sounds like white noise.
The frequencies hit my cerebrum as random as my thoughts are born.
I’m just as lost as anybody else.
Wandering these plains.
I don’t belong but I keep walking blindly.
Because it’s the only things I know how to do.
Besides, the only other option is end my journey.
Without ever knowing
What’s beyond the tall grass.
I’ve been told that
This place is dangerous.
We are all alone. Together.
We’re only starting
Passions RevivedBroken, like a stained glass window, laying in colored pieces of a heart on the floorPassions Revived by LaColombeDeDeuil
Shattered, like a pane of glass, muddied as it lays on the earth below
Splintered, like the finest of crystal, slivers lying like sharp icicles on the snow
Tears, like tiny rivers, silver crystal streams that flow from the soul
Questions lay unanswered as words fall as whispers into my palm
Why is a word cursed, a three letter incantation cast forth as a wicked spawn
How is now a nowhere route, ending in a dirt road of barbed wire drawn
But is a period, an echo of nothingness that spills out into the shadows before dawn
A heart can break, a soul can shatter, a spirit can splinter - so is the destruction
And yet, there lingers a tiny flicker of a flame, piercing through it all with a candle’s obstruction
Bearing in its firey fingers supernatural flowers of tiny echoes that repeat ore as in a bell tower
Hang on to your passion, let it not be ever squandered, nor let it be stolen by evil powe
First 50 Comments Gets A Tanka Poem!I'm offering 50 free tanka poems for the first 50 people that comments on this journal entry!First 50 Comments Gets A Tanka Poem! by British-Prophetess
I want to try and improve upon writing tanka poems and this is the best way in my opinion. If you want your tanka to be based on a word prompt, then please do let me know in the comments and I'll see what I can do for you If you don' t know what a tanka is, then here is the definition:
" The typical lyric poem of Japanese literature, composed of five unrhymed metrical units of 5,7,5,7,7 'sound symbols'; tanka in English have generally been in five lines with a total of thirty-one or fewer syllables, often observing a short, long, short, long, long pattern. Tanka usually need no titles, though in Japanese a 'topic' (dai) is often indicated where a title would normally stand in Western poetry. In Japan, the tanka is well over twelve hundred years old (haiku is about three hundred years old), and has gone through many periods of change in style and content. B
I Built A HouseI built a houseI Built A House by CrumbledWings
Of stone and sweat
Loftily held together
By thousand of memories.
Within my stone stock-hold
Held some piece of me
And I hoped
It would hold you too,
That it would embrace you
And you would see the beauty
To be found in its stony arms
Cracks and crevices.
And though try as I am
This isn't what you see
What your willing to believe.
All you see are stone walls
Surrounding an empty place
Blocking your view of the sea.
I built a house
Of stone and sweat
To hold you close to me,
Meant to be a home
For our hearts with windows
So we could always
View our sea.
But instead I built walls
And a house of stone and sweat
To build you a home.
poem for borderlinesif i could concentrate overpoem for borderlines by tubefed
seven hundred thousand eyes
at the roof to the numbers stepping
from the nicities & rows
to go back
to the shattered surface
& the ripples beating over the hang
halfway between shallow
biting lips. maybe--
she couldn't have known
that it takes a whole three minutes
for the lungs to
well, maybe she
who, oh well
the white; the haze--
the booming over
the spume and spray
me get out of my head
just pull up the shutters
my tongue the weight to talk
but that's all we'll ever be:
a match burning itself out for
under the backspray of someone else's wheels
|The rules of this group are quite simple.|
You can submit any and everything that you feel is coming out of that funky little heart of yours.
If there is anyone being mean to ANYONE you will be booted from this group.
There are only 10 submitions per day.
Any hate or discrimination will get you so kicked out of this group.
Let your freak flag fly!
And be creative!
In this group you are free to do whatever you feel is right to you, except for bad stuff and sick little moo cows (crazy people). So paint the colors of the wind with your own version of the rainbow, not with the version the "MAN" told you to do.
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