Writing Forum: Share Poetry, Stories, and Inspiration: Page 14 Topics

Is over but i can't help thinking...everything was so good on the way to work- the iced coffee, the spring rain and the flowery trees, that cheesy shakira song blasting from my radio, the perfect lawns and homes that i pass on central ave, t

The fruit at the top of the tree i am the unobtainable yet undeniable fruit at the top of the tree... some of the best fruit is at the far end of the branch.

In the dawning silence i can hear the phantom ring the world just seems to fall away i hear the angels sing grief and pain just disappear my world is mine again and for that single moment i can live without an

"i don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: i love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. i love you as the plant that doesn

Excrement literature, which began as a russian literary movement in the 1990's, also became an american genre with the publication of toilet: the novel. although the term excrement literature is wide embracing, it has been linked to neo-existenti

Velvet whispers inaudible murmuring stifled secrets indigo shadows veil desperation obscuring desire in a lucid azure dream i found you under a sapphire sky.

Dxpnet have you any thoughts? (i'm hoping he sees your messages tw2) if not, i would try emailing him by using the link located to the left of your computer screen when you're on this site, that says "send us email".

All this love and passion in me and nobody to unleash it on. i wonder what it is about me that flawlessly makes me take a turn for the wrong.

I wrote this short story i new it needed religon, sex and mystery. oh my god im pregent i wonder whos it is?

Eg. to entertain, inform, rant?

When she was a smitten kitten flagrante delicto ingenuous and innocent she purred constantly curled the breadth of her tail about the orbit of all maleness spun her erotic tales about multitudes of masculinity but

I am precariously balanced between two lovers perilously stuck in a smoldering state of fertile flux when i am supine under a blanket of dynamic darkness one brings bountiful bitterness hand-carved from

Why employers like liberal arts grads some college students simply prefer studying monet over math and freudian theory over physics. for them, it makes sense to major in a liberal arts discipline like history or philosophy.

If you believed in love you would smell the reality sense the captivation its availability would surround you if you believed in love you would glide like an angel soar into nirvana, winged drift into eden

Freedom i clearly remember the hour of my rebirth the very minute sanity graced my life.. there i sat, in confusion's station, isolated, shivering from loneliness saddled with disappointment's baggage holding hopef

I am solid. when i am cautious with my heart, i am waiting for trust from you and from myself to you.

Satin tears run down the depths of my soul isolation is my security as pain flows through my veins losing all control over my heart and my mind never finding the right fit into you crushed and lifeless, i still manage to try

Your peaceful countenance core shines with radiance acknowledgements you are blessed worry free from all stress jordan-like slouching gait borderline perfect weight curly fine touch your waist slanted eyes, teeth are

Just for practice the archetype arien mister

I am an artist; although people refuse to recognize my talent. i arrange a variety of media together, making them a new, logical and beautiful bagged creation.

Where have all the budding writers gone? tw2

What ever happened to the publication you were involved with. did you finish the second poem?

Well, it so happens that i was asked my permission to dedicate 2 whole pages to me in an upcoming book called the international who's who of poetry with one of the pages being my poem and the other page being a biography of me. woohoo!

By the way parallax, phoenix rising is right you should concider doing stand up. boy can you churt out a quick tale, what a great imagination.

And 72 hours later, chapter 4 is all done. :) i will happily keep it coming.

I'd be interested to read more of your stuff, if you're willing to share.

So, i've dabbled a little bit here and there. it's a bit harder than it seems.

Roses are red, violets are blue, i,m psychophrenic and so am i!

Hehe! i finally got a poem published in a literary magazine called "anthology".

I just finished creating my own website and there is a page on there titled writes where you can go to submit your own poetry, short stories, or any fanfic. the web address is available on my profile if you want to check it out.

I'm new here and i love writing so i decided to post a poem like i noticed a few people have done. and if you don't want to start a whole other thread for your own poetry, feel free to post it here and leave comments on other's work.

A maiden sara teasdale oh if i were the velvet rose upon the red rose vine, i'd climb to touch his window and make his casement fine. and if i were the little bird that twitters on the tree, all day i'd si

Holy butter.

Here's the link. i'm going to try for it.

We always return to the source of our doom nothing left nothing wanted unwanted is all we have we become the unwanted just an incarnation of all that we despise because we cannot find the power to change we don't know how

Edge of crossing the same scenes carry on sun glistened flavors seep through her eyes she hangs onto the edge, knowing the edge is the will to live i dont understand where you come from. i dont understand if i should hold on.

Destruction first of all do you remember the way a bear goes through a cabin when nobody is home? he goes through the front door.

The pain wont stop, and the days seem to be longer than usual wishing time was non existant at this point so i can fly free without any fear so i can fly free and forget but why forget when i can let it be and let this flame

Some people are so shy about what they write, they won't share it... i ask: why do you write if not to be read?

Hello . .

I went to the bookstore and asked the saleswoman, where's the self-help section? she said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.

Hemingway the sun also rises a take of on his years in paris and spain great book. also a very interesting love story.