[x]

Here, and everywhere"And when you leave us," you ask me, "where will we go to find you?"

When I'm gone, I will come back to you in a myriad of things. From my flesh there will be grass, from my bones there will be trees. I will be there in the earth, in the sunshine, in the sea. Countless grains of me will tango with the snowflakes in the wind, mingling with your hair, caressing your skin. The butterfly that grazed your fingertip, that is where I will be. The deer that escaped from the corner of your vision, that too was me. I will be at the edge of the sky and at the corners of the earth. Look, and you will find me here, there, and everywhere.

"But we call ou

To DeathWith the withering storm,
the tulips grew
-long and beautiful were the stems and petals.

Their mouths hungry,
like a bird in morning dew.

Red, yellow, orange and pink,
present the thinker with endless thought,
-To leave a tulip
is to love a friend,
To pick a tulip,
is to welcome death.

To the mountains the storm shall go,
and shall its gleaming eyes be spared.

SymbiosisApnoea reigns,
and love
is death in a mirror,
when a cold candle
lungs
for her burning breath,
and her fiery heart
strives
for his sacred chest.
Waxen tears bleed,
as immortality
breaks the mirror,
cursing them forever.

VoicesYou know that buzzing sound you hear when you find yourself in a completely quiet room?
There are many stories that say that the sound are actually voices, though I know you don't believe the stories. I didn't believe either.
Until a week ago.
I came home from a concert and was extremely tired. I was lying in my bed, my eyes closed when I heard that annoying sound. I'm usually not bothered with it, but seriously, now?! I waited for the sound to pass but it wouldn't. I shook my head and turned around. It was still there. I tried covering my head with a pillow. There was s brief moment I thought the sound was gone, but as soon my breathing

Broken Me.When my heart starts to break...
I try to convince myself these tears are fake.
That I’m playing for an audience.
But I guess that simply makes no sense.

I’m sitting here alone, again,
And yet every tear I’m holding in.
Maybe my hearts being punished.
But I just need you to miss...

I need you to miss us
Who we were besides the lust
Who I am... when you’re not here.
I’m weak now... just full of despair.

I have so many questions to ask you.
If you saw this poem... would you care?
Do you love me still?
Will my heart ever heal?

I have no answers, so can you tell me.
Am I nothing? Is that what you see?

LoveWarm,
Like those little moments together,
when we share a song and a smile.
Your smile is warmth.

Warm,
Like your gleaming brown eyes,
long lashes and round glasses.
Your gaze.

Warm like a summer's day,
with a clear blue sky,
green trees lining the road.

Warm like the sun on my skin,
letting it literally sink in,
this moment is forever.

Warm.
Not having to care,
but caring anyway
because you're alive and here.

Warm,
like a sweater in the snow,
your arms around me.
Like you.

Warm.

Like you.

Forbidden LoveStaring deep into your eyes I can see it
These feelings are so real they want to break free from my skin.
You can see right into me
I'm an open book to you.
Only You.
Your sky blue eyes pierce right to my heart
I could look into them all day.
But I cannot for love is forbidden.
And I know that this is love for they have taught me every feeling but this
It is more beautiful than any feeling I have ever felt
You take my hand and squeeze it tight
Knowing that they cannot erase our feelings
We hide together to talk all day
Afraid that they may find us
And wipe it away
But fear cannot destroy this feeling
I will break the law and L

Poetry in MotionPoetry is the heart's locomotion
Sparking emotions that stir up commotion

Poetry speaks of devotion to thought
Crossing oceans of pain to reach a peace potion

Poetry is both form and function
A raging love storm or voice of compunction

My very life depends on poem consumption
To release the rage brought on by presumptions

And it flows through life in that very same vein
The blood that flushes out heartfelt pain

So I count it a blessing to run with words
To swim with mermaids and what else absurd

It offers escape from the burdens in life
A way to put structure to struggle and strife

Making the raw and intangible real
These rhyth

Nightmares of RealityA girl rested on the bed, rain streaming down the windows of her face, her cheeks melting into blobs of fat in the outpour.

Sleepiness takes advantage of the chance to kneel beside her and outstretch her hand in a tempting offer to take her away. For a moment, there was such an immense struggle in the girl to push it away; she knew it was a lie. But then, she looks into its eyes and she thinks she’s seen those eyes before.

When she had looked down into the black abyss eyes of her grandmother, who was surrounded with white chrysanthemums. When a homeless cat slinking in the rain stared at her from afar. On the people who’ve lost

Trick or treatBlack cats,
Howling wolves,
Masks everywhere.
The moonlight dancing,
Shadows prancing,
As screams fill the air.
Trick or treat,
The children speak,
Painted faces.
Ghouls,
Witches,
Ghosts all around.
The life of this night will never be found.
All hallows eve,
Is lost to us now.
Trick or treat?
I think not.

Denial In a quaint little home, a woman puts up the last of the dishes. She looks into the living room where her two children sleep in front of the television. She carefully carries each child to their bed and tucks them in with a kiss and says "I love you". The children remain silent.
The woman goes to her room where her husband is. He lies on the bed quietly, waiting for his wife. The woman smiles lovingly at her husband as she slides beside his cold form. He'd been sick for a month and required extra care now. In fact earlier that day she had helped him bathe and remove the filth from his body. He was always so messy.
Kissing her husband deep

Orange RealityMy soul craves to escape reality.
An alternate vision.
A tropical sun set.
Pools of light and life.
Sweet and electric vibes
Of another world.
Of another chance.
Of another choice.
Innocence of the past,
Fading, escaping, fleeting,
haunting.
Chasing innocence.
Chasing dreams.
I am left there
To watch as the sun
Paints a vivid sky.
Silently approaching dusk.
I am left there
To wait for dawn.
Alone in paradise.

Moonlight PerfectionI'm writing this by moonlight - the eerie glow of a full moon, to be exact. I'm wondering if you remember how we marvelled at a full moon, promising to use it as a medium in which to speak to each other, even while separated by thousands of thousands of miles. Of course we wouldn't hear each other, we figured, but we'd always know. That's how love works.

I'm not sure if you've blocked out the memory or not. I am sure that you know which memory I speak of - we have many, but there's nothing quite as special as dancing at midnight at the foot of a swan-flocked pond, despite the absence of music. The swans watched us, and I swear that by the ti

this endless hopei.

i dreamed of
shooting stars weighed down
with wishes.

ii.

i thought that
miracles could some
how come true.

iii.

i believed
that summer would last
forever.

iv.

i prayed that
the ice would never
touch our hearts.

v.

—once upon a time.

Fleeting GlancesWhat I would spare
For those scarce and sporadic smiles
Our sparse and fleeting glances
Our few visions into the unknown

I crave our sluggish efforts
The notion to look away
When wonder is sought
Back and forth, as we turn and grin

How the angst in me strives
For those squandered days
When the heart of me wrenched
And savored its suffrage
When I stewed in my agony
Hopeful and waiting

The anguish of mystery, is what i long to claim
If only once more, I may taste its bitter decadence

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Dirt, Smoke, and Love“I fell in love with the most unexpected person on the most unexpected time.”

“Oh god no,” I moaned and flicked the lights on. My thoughts swirled with unsettling scrutiny as I hung my head precariously above the sink, its marble bowl glistening in the blazing yellow hue of the lights overhead.

My eyes deliberately moved to the calendar hanging on the maroon-tiled wall, the bold date sneering at me from its secure position in a derisive red font. Quickly, I splashed handfuls of cool water onto my face and tugged on a pair of jeans, arbitrarily plucking a blouse from a pile of unfolded clothes.

A shrill bark pinged i

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Submitted: November 5, 2012
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Sweet or Sour

by ~amour-raven, Nov 5, 2012, 4:15:22 AM
Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Emotional

The crisp autumn air nipped at the noses of gallant children as they wandered throughout the reticent fields. Hands aimlessly searching for the faultless lump of cabbage whose thriving carcass lay dormant within the rows of vegetation.

A girl, no older than seventeen tugged at the edges of the rags she had draped about her shoulders in an attempt to warm her fragile frame. Her vibrant ginger locks swayed gently in the breeze that danced throughout the valley. Her emerald green irises were veiled by a slip of fabric tied firmly about her thin face; her hands digging at a mound of dirt surrounding the sole purpose for her being here.

"Evelyn. Evelyn," cried a motherly voice, her hands beckoning toward her lone offspring who stood, detached from the hustle of eager children roaming the vast emptiness.

The birdlike cry was lost within the tumble of the wind, her call never reaching the ears of her daughter whom knelt within the field, her hands diligently cultivating the soil.

Wrapping her bony fingers about the billowing lump, Evelyn tugged with all her might. The plant gave-way and the girl tumbled backwards, landing on her rump. She eagerly peeled off the blindfold and viewed a web of roots and clumps of mud clinging to the mass of limbs protruding from the leafy, green vegetable.

Tears sprung to her eyes in response to the lovely sight fore she was to marry a man of luxury. Her heart somersaulted at the recollection of dreams she had as a child. Her fancy visions of luxurious items that would decorate her body tore at her heart, rich-tasting foods that will tickle her palate and the weight of gems and precious metals that would hang from the lobes of her ears.

"Tabhair a bheith milis," the young girl cooed, her soft voice swallowed by the howl of the wind.

--

^{All Rights Reserved. (c) 2013 Samantha Lynn.}

Sweet or Sourby ~amour-raven

Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Emotional

Blind Date:
Blindfolded local girls would go out into the fields and pull up the first cabbage they could find.

If their cabbage had a substantial amount of earth attached to the roots then there future loved one would have money.

Eating the cabbage would reveal the nature of their future husband - bitter or sweet!

~~

This is the short story (very short) of Evelyn Connolly, a young Irish girl.

Please enjoy :3

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`TeaPhotography Apr 8, 2013 Professional General Artist

Wow, great imagery!

~amour-raven Apr 10, 2013

Thank you so much!

I'm a sucker for anything Irish and Scottish!

~SolemnStarr Feb 5, 2013 Student General Artist

Interesting!

~CutieFlyCake Dec 27, 2012 Student Artist

_{Absolutely breathtaking, I was able to visualize a clear picture of your setting. You are talented, friend.
I applaud your work.}

~amour-raven Dec 27, 2012

Truly?
Thank you so much! It means the world to me to hear such flattery. I'm honored by your kind words. I am so glad to hear that you like the 'story'!

~CutieFlyCake Dec 27, 2012 Student Artist

_{Any time, your always welcome.}

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