pájaro [Sat, Oct 11th, 2008 at 1:05am ] poetssociety [therer2doors] little bird broken words left unspoken a sigh little bird haunted dreams lost undaunted you try little bird bound determined and sound you'll fly ~~~ Comment

criticize me pleeease [Sat, Oct 11th, 2008 at 12:55am ] poetssociety [painted_inwords] i wrote this after breaking up with my boyfriend of 3 years. i think it needs help. guide me. i broke a heart this summer crushed it until it bled a river flowing from his chest late at night the current seizes me and carries me back into his arms each morning i awake gasping nearly drowning in his sorrow Comment (2) Read

[Sat, Oct 11th, 2008 at 12:37pm ] poetssociety [faust_ina] One could drown in her eyes wells that reflected the worldly sorrow a singular autumn leaf could possibly contain in its quietly waiting heart secretly wishing for the bite of winter to freeze it cold like the summer ducks caught in the middle of a tall tale in which the lake was dried and old at the moment when the world conspired against her and clocks tap-danced on bar room tops to the beat of overwound pasts it was her eyes or was it her deeply holed soul that captured yours and never let go no one asked where she came from until she vanished leaving her image shifting and breaking up beyond the full-stops of happy ever afters and her eyes, her eyes that were the sum of zeros and spoke of endless sorrow sorrow that seemed like a tiny paper boat sailing away for something you would never know Comment

"The Heaven of Zaria" [Sat, Oct 11th, 2008 at 12:51pm ] creativewriting [heavenofzaria] "Aside from the pink satin cloth that draped and met at the middle of the ceiling a hundred feet above, I, who wore black amongst a sea of white, am evidently MISPLACED. What makes me more misplaced is the pathetic fact that I am the only one wearing a dress made of satin. If I exist in a world with less conceited people, I wouldn't even take notice of that fact. Ritually I give myself a reality check. I happen to be the stepdaughter of the sister of a wife of a big-deal businessman who happens to be mutually in love with the media. And what's worst? Charmeuse had to be the 'in' cloth for today’s wedding. Not wearing it now, not having it cut above the knees or at least showing a little bit of cleavage, would be the least desirable situation to be in. And most obviously, I am wearing something that is not Charmeuse, not white, not short...enough and bears no cleavage in sight. Maybe I'll get extra points for wearing stunning gold Jimmy Choo sandals or maybe not. Either way, if I weren’t the sister of the bride I would have been kicked out of the cathedral seconds before I could set my ‘Jimmy Choo’-s on the red carpet. When I was younger my head would start spinning at moments like this, but I suppose that age is like a number that shows how much tolerance you have to how much slamming you get from the world because of the things it hates about you." --- "The Heaven of Zaria" a snippet of Chapter One. I've decided to finally finish a novel that I have started. I've always had problems finishing stories that I write because I always search for motivation and I tend to lack it when I need it the most. :) I hope posting that would interest you to read it more, you can find it in my livejournal page http://heavenofzaria.livejournal.com Thanks :) Comment

The Heaven of Zaria [Sat, Oct 11th, 2008 at 12:36pm ] poetssociety [heavenofzaria] "Aside from the pink satin cloth that draped and met at the middle of the ceiling a hundred feet above, I, who wore black amongst a sea of white, was evidently MISPLACED. What makes me more misplaced is the pathetic fact that I was the only one wearing a dress made of satin. If I existed in a world with less conceited people, I wouldn't even take notice of that fact. Ritually I give myself a reality check. I happen to be the daughter of the sister of a wife of a big-deal businessman who happens to be mutually in love with the media. And what's worst? Charmeuse had to be the 'in' cloth for today’s wedding. Not wearing it now, Not having it cut above the knees or at least showing a little bit of cleavage, would be the least desirable situation to be in. And most obviously, I am wearing something that is not Charmeuse, not white, not short..enough and bears no cleavage in sight. Maybe I'll get extra points for wearing gold and stunning Jimmy Choos or maybe not. Either way, if I weren’t the sister of the bride I would have been kicked out of the cathedral seconds before I could set my Jimmy Choos on the red carpet. When I was younger my head would start spinning at moments like this, but I suppose that age is like a number that shows how much tolerance you have to how much slamming you get from the world because of the things it hates about you." ---Chapter One "Must be missing an Angel", Part One This is the first time I've actually decided to finish a story that I've started. :) But I have an attitude that if I don't get enough motivation, I tend to quit. So do wish me luck, and please try to read it and comment. Thanks! You're much appreciated http://heavenofzaria.livejournal.com Comment

I thought you would be different. [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 11:13pm ] poetssociety [lostdreamer337] [ mood | crushed ] I thought we had something Something that would last But I guess I was wrong.. I thought you were different I never thought you would end up hurting me I thought that maybe things were changing That I would stay happy And everything would be ok But of course I was wrong I feel like this is my fault Even though you say its not Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough Who knows But maybe we can be friends And then maybe just maybe in the future We might have a second chance. I really liked you. Comment

To This Very Afternoon,with Love... [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 6:50pm ] poetssociety [bleeding_lilies] [ mood | excited ] [ music | Suna No Oshiro-Kanon Wakeshima ] Trapped in the dark,claustropobic womb.Hearts beating,heads racing,We press our ears to the walls and pray that we are never found.A smile is pasted upon our faces,while our sweat drips in rivers.Our eyes are sparkling with tears,on hearing our own secret joke.We gloat upon our secret womb.Our smiles glowing in the dark.We gloat upon this secret chamber, and in pride boast we shall never be caught.'Silence!' says one, whose hearty face breaks, and slowly she whispers,' they are on their way!'.  Our hearts stop; and our breathe has become ice.The footsteps have entered the room, and our secret is close to discovery.We huddle, for fear of our shameful discovery,for we have only hidden for a measley few winks. Ah! We are caught! Oh,how are secret is ruined!Yet our five smiling faces show brighter than before,and our sweat, though dirty, gives a heroic stance. We look about into the brightness of the hall.And realize we miss one of our own.'Forget him,' shouts one nay-sayer.'For he is useless and will drag us down.Down into the deeper dark.Forget him, says I, and speak no more!' We walk down the bright lightsAnd we blink into the void.Where all light vanishesbeyond a certain point.The dark looming orifice that grins at us with glee and stares upon our brave faces with a red cyclopes eye. Ah! How our hearts melt, and how joy and chivalry becomes sorrow and cowardice!We push our own into the void, and pray that the winking monster is vanquished by the day. 'Pray tell,' says I, with meekly mirth,' pray tell how we are to wonder here?For the demons of the night will surely tear even the most brave of us asunder!'. 'Yes!' cries another, with beads of sweat raining down from heaven.' Please, tell us, brave ones,how we are to walk this horrid row!' 'It shall tear our souls and drive us mad!' 'It will most surely swallow us whole!' 'It has already claimed our most deviant friend! I say, we look for another way!' 'Pray tell,' says I, with more force than mirth,' pray tell, how we are to brave this creature,for even the light of heaven fears this dreaded eye of Satan!' 'Come now!' says one hearty fellow,' you fear this wretched beast?Whose one eye mayhaps is surely blind, and whose mind is so warped by the day. Look, fair comrades, the sun still graces us with her holy light, and even the most cruel men must have a sleep at night!' And so we crossed this horrid way, a long, dark road. We hear our hearts beat once more and our minds fill with terror. The bravest of us tred on, and they are caught in their saintly sight, forgetting the peasants that follow. 'Ah!' cries us, with hearts filled with joy.' This demonic presence has spared us, for now we see the light!' 'But quick,' says I, with exasperated joy,' for the sun is leaving us quickly! If it leaves us too soon, and if the moon never shines, then we shall most assurely be slaughtered!' We run, with feet blessed by some heavenly light, for soon we see the day. Ah, how cool it is to run in the breeze, for the monster that so tried to devour us has failed once more, as it always shall. For even though it crushes our hearts, and even though it takes us one by one, we shall always carry the faithful memories of this one afternoon, where we all nearly ended our youthful lives. With Love, B_L On the most perfect Friday ever. Comment

Daniel Boone Homestead - about 20 miles outside of Philly [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 9:20pm ] canoncameras [mujetdebois] Canon EOS 20D Aperture Value: f/5.6 Focal Length: 47mm ISO: 1600 ( +1 ) Comment (2) Read

rivers of time [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 9:18pm ] poetssociety [shipman7] this is a new poem i just wrote Rivers of Time ------------------- Etched in the glass of forever more Timelessness stands over the rivers of ruin Like cards in a house, it all falls Hands on a clock, time moves by tick-tock pulled from the wreckage looking across the restless waters clock faces flying in every direction hands spinning violently knowing not where we go Comment

Up the down stairs [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 8:58pm ] poetssociety [heres_2_yoko] [ mood | anxious ] Hands free, and falling Up the down stairs Musty, cold, dark, creaking Beating (Thump! Tha-thump! Beat me!) Climbing ever so slowly One foot, two foot Hands free, and falling A twinkle from above, brightest light Its warm and inviting I drawn closer Yet, always, far away Step lightly! Hands free, and falling (And with gentle discord, inform me!) Mass Hysteria! Pulling off my toes (Pop! Plop!) Tread gently, unaltered Hands free, and falling I crumble away Feet and knees and legs and sex turn to dust But climbing, ever still Ever reaching, never grasping Ashes fall from sparkling cloves And my outstretched fingers tremble for you Hands free, and falling Comment

elements [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 4:41pm ] poetssociety [call_n_dance] Limp in the water, Delicate pirouettes in rushed currents, Words, unspoken, surfacing In bubbled torrents of exasperation.   Been called a quitter, But never taken it to heart, Never felt ambitions sinking Just as fast as self-confidence.   Seared by ruthless flares, Ashen rhumba over glowing embers, Wild passion burning up Everything for miles, from the inside out.   Been thrown into frays, But never taken them to heart, Never seen a soul burn long Before the rest went up in flames.   Swaying with a gust, Unforeseen jetés through ever-changing winds, Orbital fears and worries Rushed away in unevenly timed breezes.   Been jostled and hurt, But never took it to heart, Never shed a tear that couldn’t Be slowly blown away by time.   Held by gravity, Knees shaky and feet planted, irresolute, Quaking, quivering above Eroded, weather-beaten soil.   Been pulled to the ground, But never wavered in heart, Never gave dedication to Be rubbed away by elements. Comment

[Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 4:13pm ] poetssociety [call_n_dance] if you... if i... if this or that... then maybe we... but only if. forever if. Comment

good or evil [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 1:41pm ] poetssociety [misanthropic42o] can you dance can you paint would chance let you be a saint or grow weak with great despair tell me freak did you ever care? do you rot or do you glow you tell me not what i need to know keep talking in riddles you keep fucking my mind I've lost so much sleep since you've belittled me blind so when i see you glow so bright tell me the truth, is it just the light? one more lie will push me over the edge please tell me why you've dismantled my head Comment

[Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 11:33am ] poetssociety [kelli1kat] [ mood | crushed ] Living this life in fading memories made! Feelings of lost control~ a madness awake~ it is not a dream! Seems love can't contain my soul! I am a dreamer lost~ Floating in a Matrix of yesterday's! Afraid of change~ touch my curves~ but don't love me! Comment

Cage me [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 11:51am ] poetssociety [sugarsweety] You say you hear me? in many ways yes you do. I could tell you the many lines passed on my face. Yet,so could you. My heart is an indisgretion. A glass object, you see the reflections that flicker? Are they honest? Tell me, does it look appealing? I am reflections screaming cold. haunting like the eery chill of a dry,cold night. My soul is vastness in disguise. Its compartments similar to shelves see how they fit neatly in this space. chaos piled in neat little stacks. I am shallowness when told not to dive. see me? only in this glass reflection I remain caged sweetly as a bird. Comment

Lost [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 5:14pm ] poetssociety [i_am_illusion] Sitting on the shore The waves gently caressing your bare feet But your nymphs don't come to giggle at you And your unicorns have blended with the wind long ago And the orchids no longer shine with fairy dust And the songs of fawns are no longer interrupting the peace of your woods You tried to heal a little bird Broken still it lays on the moss The air has a misty quality about it And suddenly you can't tell Whether you are waking up from a dream Or simply having a nightmare ©2007-2008 ~rlcwallpapers Comment (2) Read

grandma [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 8:36pm ] poetssociety [romansoliloquy] A flood of feelings circle my lens they are soaked it fluttered  but im not in love  more of a somersault it has no bottom over the telephone i hear your voice santa claus, santa claus i fell further i cannot do, i cannot do logic doesn't reason with me but i can't let you drift into the sea not of memory but of- kin i love you.. Comment

Journal Reader [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 2:30am ] poetssociety [zenstone] [ mood | sleepy ] [ music | Markus Schulz - Cause You Know ] Sitting reading your thoughts of day the world piece by piece life's puzzle comes together yes sometimes I work the edges first.............. Comment

[Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 12:38am ] poetssociety [suave_acita] You strain your eyes to look, to force this glance at the world falling apart. Hands aching, incapable of holding on anymore. You can feel the crumbling ground give-way and further you plunge. Comment

Belladona Living [Fri, Oct 10th, 2008 at 3:15am ] poetssociety [rosepetalwinds] [ mood | lonely ] [ music | Rina Aiuchi - Navy Blue ] Written on the fly, 3 00 AM, the lovechild of my mind and creativity. Original work. ------------------------------ Titled "Belladonna Living" Lips on lips and eyes are closed, the acid tongue tickles The 4/4 life at prestissimo pace, hide tainted face from hungry snake Pleasant feeling, dirty love, to explore such toxic perfection Who will cry when the last of the pure hearts turns to ice? Nose to nose and eyes wide shut, recoiling tongue prickles The 4/4 life ticks by, pendulum swings and poison stings at waltz tempo Odd vibration, dirty music, that shatters prison bars Infection spreads its obsidian wings, who will death come to kiss? Open eyes and a world in colour, the sleeping tongue stings Innocence intact, fiction trumps fact, climactic cadence is the cure Perfect as is, dirty life, to remove the masks and live atonal Crushing belladonna underfoot to usher silence, sweet silence Comment

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