

A Poet's PrayerDivinity, lend me Thy voice, Thy perfect, wise, unguessing choice Of spoken, heard, and written rhyme And help my heart to keep the time Of the tune that moves my beloved's soul. Mine is but lusterless coal. Make it diamond to endure The moments it spends in fear, unsure It will ever find one who waits As I, beyond signs' and Fate's Falling, undiscerning eyes. Ward me from all doubt and lies That in uncertainty allege That, overconfident, I pledge My hopeful core to one who will Ne'er my root's lacuna fill. This prayer, I hope, will make do TA Poet's Prayer


Surface TensionA scream is constantly building in me, gaining more and more power, exerting more and more pressure, but it never escapes and I dont know where it goes. Ive become a simulacrum, a pantomime of my real self that is running on the last dregs of me that remain from the good times, when each golden memory was something of the present. Theyre like a string of set stones, cherished but (like a grandmothers jewelry, perhaps) something of the past. I pretend to be breathing when really I am beneath the surface, caught in malign currents and pushed around, tumbling and no one breaks the tensionSurface Tension


Not EnoughLeaf-letters rustle As I shovel them around My heart To try desperately to warm it In its little bed of inadequate bandages That do not banish The numbness of disregard. It needs a coat of arms - The embrace of a symbiote Not of whom or from whom, But with whom I am completely, Unmistakably In love.Not Enough


AloftReaching out, tentative, To look for signs I should give Response to what I think I might Be receiving from you now despite All my faults, impurities. I've no illusions; I'm sure it's eas- Y to see Right to the heart of meAloft
Love, look what we've found! I was falling, falling only To alight on a cloud, Right on a cloud. No longer lonely, I'm singing aloud And I'll never hit the ground.
And you saw what was hiding Waiting and biding Its time 'neath the tension. I'm not worth a mention. Here you take the spotlight,  


... at the End of the WorldThe Princess at the End of the World... at the End of the World
Prologue
I'm always looking at her from afar.
Friends come and go by coincidence and by the passing of time, and I'm ok with that.
Whenever I take interest in anyone, I tend to keep my distance.
It's a kind of self-protection, I guess. I'm a realist. I don't want to go chasing after some kind of impossible dream.
She was just a bright star in the sky, and I was content with gazing at it from afar. After all, I'm only standing on the ground.
She was a princess. She looked like one and gave off the atmosphere of one. B


S.4 Creating Your Ghost Dreaming ghosts of you. The memory of your lips Makes me catch my breath.S.4 Creating Your Ghost


I Am NothingI am small. Petty. Insignificant. My words will spark no fires, my pen no wars.I Am Nothing
My beauty
(if you can call it that) would not even launch a canoe, let alone a thousand ships. Armies of leather-clad men with angry wives will not fight to win me home.
I am no saint. I do not leave sweetness and light wherever I go. In fact I delight in causing trouble. Swearing, being angry. And Doing the Wrong Thing.
I will not be remembered for my wit or my intellect or my abilities at - whatever. Sister, lo
Louder
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you're DOING it wrong! . . . .
if you pictured Mello as the young Grindelwald, and spasmed... we seriously need to be friends.
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you're DOING it wrong! . . . .
if you pictured Mello as the young Grindelwald, and spasmed... we seriously need to be friends.
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you're DOING it wrong! . . . .
if you pictured Mello as the young Grindelwald, and spasmed... we seriously need to be friends.
"Hey. check out this funny blog!! LOL CLICK HERE"
REPORT IT! HIDE IT! IGNORE IT! SPREAD THE WORD!!!!!!!!!
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Time to wake up.
Truth is dying in its sleep.
Avatar by SarahofDarkness
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Time to wake up.
Truth is dying in its sleep.
Avatar by SarahofDarkness
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you're DOING it wrong! . . . .
if you pictured Mello as the young Grindelwald, and spasmed... we seriously need to be friends.
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My words are like a dagger with a jagged edge...
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MarchingBand is my life.
Have you tried getting published?
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"Even if my marriage is falling apart and my children are unhappy, there is still a part of me that says, 'God, this is fascinating!"
--Jane Smiley
check it in my journal
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And it's a rainbow over a waterfall; the ink spill on the paper; the little perfections that represent the imperfection of us all. -Kathryn V Crosby
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