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it’s time to sit in a dark room again / with a couple of things to throw / and wait to feel what comes back
Sometimes it must be done…. / Just got to come out on the other side.
my room is so small, the mice are hunchbacked. it has become my only entertainment, my lullaby. watching the ballet of starving kysophi…
in This Room one shall not sit….
I suppose this is a little bit like putting all of your cracked eggs in the one basket. I think this needs an illustration….any takers?.... no none! a few promises, but everyone gets too busy. So I’ll just have to go and record it as a song and make the video to go with it. Done. Well in a years time maybe!
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I gazed at you in amazement / you met my gaze without flinching / It seems our eyes met across the crowded room
Dance With Me its awesome butchart my friend! / loved it!!!
It does things to me that I don’t understand and from the sniggers at school I know I’m not the only one
This is for the July writer’s meeting on the theme of music These are just some of the songs that tugged on my heart….or other parts of me.
A woman must have money and a room of her own, if she is to create…
/ Still Life with Citrus Mixed Media on Paper
THE SUNLIGHT DRIZZLED / Through the darkened room / Casting a spell / Lifting all gloom / Opening the shades / The sun now flashed / Brightne…
I’ve already done worse, she told herself, and for a moment she believed it.
Brigit’s come knocking again. Bear with me while I weave her strands together.
I don’t want to be here it’s not my scene / The music is awful I’m not that keen / I don’t want to drink I’ve had enough / The conversation’…
When I joined RB in 2008, I was looking at groups to join I found the Six Word Story group, disbanded I fear, which started me on the writing experience…this poem started as a six word story in my mind but was unable to create the atmophere in just six words..so it grew, and now have developed a new passion other than photography, of writing… / I have collaborated with David Petranker and he very kindly agreed for me to use his picture; Always on My Mind to go along side this poem. I welcome critical reviews of my work…please bubble me if you have any constructive comments….
Here in this place of groveling for substance / I see a dark horse and a man who rides
I have listened to my song too much.. and I felt the need to write a bit of my dark side. I AM DEEPLY HONORED THAT A GREAT ARTIST HERE HAS BEEN INSPIRED TO CREATE THIS IMAGE THAT GOES BEYOND FITTING THIS POEM.. IT SEEMS TO HAVE ALSO SPARKED ANOTHER VISION OF WRITING FOR ME… DANILO LEJARDI / I so appreciate this work and you. / Hotel Room /
i swear i used to think brown sugar / and teriyaki sauce came from / mom’s sweet potato
o3.23.2oo9 i have a mild case of ocd / (diagnosed by dr. mimi) / but i really don’t count anymore… / ;P .
spider webs / gather in the corners / like shadows / their jaded landlords / spinning silken threads / in untiring futility
A poem about an empty room, and childhood memories. Written 18 April 2009. Featured in Masterpieces: Literary Workshop and On Youth.
She is beautiful to watch… scales glow black, silver and gold… her movement is smooth… smooth as water flowing over rocks – but nev…
I run my finger / along the velvet sofa- / deeper and deeper / into my world I go an open flower / an open box / an open book / an open…
Inspired by a drawing by Elisabete Nascimento Pensive Mood /
“Well,” She asked; her eyes wide. Beads of hot sweat glistening on her brow like miniature crystal suns. Her angst was palpable. “What is…
This is a poem simply, about giving birth, and the moments there after. It is a sacred place. Quiet. Singular, and eternal. It is small and huge. it is above and below. It is a moment I certainly will never forget x5. I post this for every mother. For how alike we all are in this moment.
slipping into dream / we go to the dark gods
Written 29 July 2009.
“MOVE!”
inspired by two people who I consider to be master storytellers on this site. / Lisa G / and Cassidy. This is my first writing like this. I trust that you two know I have not meant to be offensive….you are a part of my story. And I did have a little fun with writing it. but you know that I love you both.
Your kisses are never forced / Fingers dance into my web of brown / Tangling in the messy strands of hair / The glint in your honest eyes, / ...
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There’s angels on my eyes / and clouds floating in my hair, / in the centre of my hand / dances our love / in everything and everywhere.
ok it stays.
All you can do / Is accept / That the room / That isn’t there / Is yours.
I’m dealing with some depression in the best way I know: to let it out, give it its head, and let it tire itself out so I can move on.
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