It was the last sticky and compressed / Moisture soaking / Blessed day / Of the journey’s / Final leg And Tim was horny for home He w…
Midnight people, / walking by, / Silver moon, / Riding high Glittering diamonds.. / On my fingers / And the sound of midnight / ....Lingers…
/ Midnight Man By Christine Till @ CT-Graphics
Sits out on the plains you know / Right beside the water / Light and sounds flash over top / The veins are by the river Central dances th…
A reminiscing on the city I call home. I tried to keep it covering the whole place but saying what I felt about it.
She could sense the impending danger in her prickling skin
one of my new loves :) / / sigh…new york city…
Let’s get out of this town.
Their lips moved together slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.
WARNING- contains content that may be disturbing, do not read if you are easily offended. / My thanks to Niki, without her I would have never finished this. / And to everyone here who encourages and inspires me, thank you for waking an imagination that has been single-minded and barren for far too long…
more writers block…im forever in search of little prompts from sweet webcomics like Secret Vespers or A Softer World / / if you know of any, bmail me please :) / / and / as always / thanks for reading / and commenting!
BRAVE STRONG FIERCE HONORABLE TRUSTWORTHY SELFLESS HARDWORKING RELENTLESS FAIR LOYAL CARING HUMAN ALW…
She was one of many who walked across the Brooklyn Bridge that day, covered head to toe with dust.
Shortly before 9:00 AM on September 11, 2001, my phone rang. A friend called to tell me to turn on my television.
People never look up at the windows. They really should.
This is a reworking of ‘street of the candlesticks’, edited down to 500 words for a RB group. As soon as I heard the theme ‘The City’ I knew I had to write of my beloved Brussels. I lived in the Sablon, the medieval artists’ quarter of tiny crooked lanes and crumbling gargoyles. My house held five storeys lilting into the Flemish sky; my room had blood red walls and huge ivory windows that looked out over the cobblestones. I would sit there day after day with a pen in my hand, and stories were always delivered to my windowsill. People never look up. They really should. Flemish / Kandelaarsstraat – candlestick street / Wat doe je daar, schramoelenbak? – What are you doing, trash bag? / maa crotje – my honey bee / mijn schattebolleke – my little ball of darling
My heart thrives under city lights, / My dreams are born on city nights, / I am a child of the golden street lamps, / I am a child of the ci…
Contact The Artist / Chicago Lights BY UmbieArt / /
No soul / No substance / They are just / Empty husks / Of loneliness Perhaps for the / Lack of musing / Or maybe for the / Dullness of / Se…
:)
Last week We were on vacation in Safed a small city in the north of Israel. / First, a few words about the hotel we stayed, “Ruth Rimonim …
Beautiful, walking corpses / lived by a wind from outside in.
A snapshot of the city’s dull side of life… We live by contrasts and die by developing a thick crust of numbness to the exuberance of Life… beautiful, walking corpses. I pray to the One that my crust will ever be as thin as air and even thinner.
The curves of your hard resolve
I was inspired weeks ago by this wonderful artist. / Suncent / and his image called city rocks— / / WHAT A TALENT!
...”What does the ‘X’ stand for?”...
Martin and his friend Rubber go visit the Temple of the City God…
I. 22 years old. / The grooves of the red river still fresh / upon my plum-white cheeks. / Reborn amid the scraping dignitaries of the NY…
This is a true story. This happened on my first ever trip to NYC, and it was then, with this happening that i realized how asleep most people are to what is right in front of their faces; but also how one moment in transit can change two lives forever. I will never forget that old woman’s face, and the sheer, exquisite gratitude written upon it. man, that was so sad and wonderful. I’ll never forget it.
Clouds cross the quarter moon.
Featured in the Group: Feminine Intent / Featured in the Group: Up and Coming Writers
I found myself / Standing in the shadow / Of Mount Vesuvius / At that juncture / Where the comings and goings / Of many a lost soul’s cacopho…
Make of it what you will…
Canyons of commerce and corruption. / Concrete jungle loneliness. / Burning asphalt ugliness. / Cities filled wi…
On that day, I was there. That day, September 11 2001; there, New York City
On that day, I was there. That day, September 11 2001; there, New York City /
A true story / Poem ( 12/10/09 467 views ) Deep within the city of philadelphia / among the poor / a small bit of hope Where did it come from ?
I went for a night drive / I invisioned the streets to be my veins / pulsing rapidly through my body. The red rear tail lights of the ca…
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