

Two Buckets Stacked TogetherMy uncle Darrell was a strange man. When I was just a little kid, no taller than a couple of buckets stacked together, and he would visit the farmhouse and help Daddy with the chores. That always made us kids happy, because we got the day off.Two Buckets Stacked Together
I had twelve brothers and sisters. Folks around our part of town did a lot of thinkin' as to how there were so many of us and still enough food to pass around the big table in our dining room. Mama called us all blessings, but I don't think Daddy always shared that opinion.
My oldest brother Paul was a good worker and he was real good with cows. Daddy always said that he was growin' up to


Was I Beautiful Once?Some things were made to be beautiful, like starry skies and the innocent voices of children. Do you remember the days when we spoke in whispers and the verses of a poem? Do you remember the way our eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and the way the bluebirds sang in the trees?Was I Beautiful Once?
Some things were made to be beautiful, like your laughter and the smell of freshly cut roses. Do you remember the days when you would put wildflowers in my hair and call me your queen? Do you remember the way we watched fireflies in the darkness and made wishes each time we caught one?
Some things were made to be beautiful, like wedding ring diam


The Night Fireflies AlignedI was waiting for the night when the fireflies would all align and shine through the sparkles in our eyes. There are galaxies intertwined in our fingers and wings sprouting from our backs. I don't think my heart is going to hold in all the light. It's bursting at the seams and shooting rainbow colored laughter into the skies every morning. There are songs whispering inside my ears that make melodies with my lips against yours and your satin touch over my skin. Play your palms under the ribs holding me together, I trust you.The Night Fireflies Aligned
I am beautiful because your eyes painted a woman over the little girl mannequin I carried around inside me


The Black Dragons Of Atal pt0.Prologue.The Black Dragons Of Atal pt0
Black storm clouds drifted ominously over the cliff's edge, and lightning flashes illuminated the figure standing dangerously close to the precipice. Long black hair flowed, dampened, down trembling shoulders. Vibrant blue eyes sent tears trailing down flushed cheekbones to join the droplets of rain.
Alhaia's hands were clasped in prayer. Her lips murmured reverently in the face of the storm. Her red gown whipped in the wind, creating a flag that swirled around her.
A silver pendant hung from her neck. The blue stone in the center of the silver sphere glowed faintly, shooting out its beams into the


The Face In The Water MirrorsThe Face In The Water Mirrors
.
i know how you stare into water mirrors waiting to see the face of a beautiful boy.
but I've told you before, the telephone lines are b u s y s i g n a l s; you'll never hear the voice you've implanted in your ear canals again, he's drowning in your violent bloodstream, hidden beneath
the calm surface of the sea


Letting Go Of Red Balloons .c.99 red balloons never sounded so beautiful because right now I wish I could fly away from you and disappear inside the clouds, never to be dreamed of again by the fragile mind who let go.Letting Go Of Red Balloons .c.
You stole my red lips and wrote messages on the insides of my mouth
so that when I woke up, you wouldn't have to be with me to explain where and why you had gone.
I've tried and I've tried to forget your easy going smile and the way you made my heart pitter-patter but there's a piece of my brain with your image engrained
into the flesh, and I just can't forget.
W


It's More Romantic To DieDon't let me die inside your cold fingertips that once sparked firecrackers beneath tender skin layers. I remember times when the clock stood silent for us while we explored the meaning of your smile in my eyes. Don't let me fall into the stereotyped girl meets boy and gets broken by a royal flush that he plays on her heart. I don't ever want to see their faces bleeding pity from their eyes and lips on my shoes. I feel nothing at all when you whisper fragments of truth and pieces of patched together lies that you stole from the future; your mask doesn't cover your clown smile anymore.It's More Romantic To Die
Do you honestly think that I'm still in love
by =ELENADUDINA
by ~evanaYou know me as A computer screen But behind the digital walls I'm a wild eyed dreamer Who loves poetry And the man who stole her heart away... Follow the path of the cherry tree flower petals At the end you'll find a girl with scarlet tresses Who can tell you the difference between existing and living. |
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Author and artist of the graphic novel The Dirty Dingo.
Save wolves:[link]
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I am a poet, but sometimes words fail me.
Keep up ur great work.
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I am a poet, but sometimes words fail me.
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