WriteGuy1

I write poetry, always up for feedback. All of the “Absolute” titles are part of a story I’m working on here.

174

Writings

Followers

Following

WriteGuy1

I write poetry, always up for feedback. All of the “Absolute” titles are part of a story I’m working on here.

174

Writings

Followers

Following

Tigress

WriteGuy1

1 min read

The dust lingers fire

Fiber

Settles, trickles on your finger tips

Lock the limber limps of will o wisps

In limply lumbered limericks

Piano tiles and old timey tricks

Tips of swords and sucking ticks

The bloody knuckles of a

Shaking fisted, two spirited ventriloquist

The play and tale

The broken mask of the impressionist

Running sand to feel echoes of a chamber

Fiberglass prods the iris

...

Poetry

Drama

A New Way To Recognize The Wind

WriteGuy1

1 min read

A new way to recognize the wind

As the sails fill and the leafs fall

The crunch on your ears

Defeats the salty blue

The howl calls you

The simple rhyming melody etched

In echo bellowed caves

Stalagtites dripping liquid sweat

Dropping

Saying we were here

And we harbored anger, rage, and grief

Do not park here if the sails sing different

Recognize what we are wailing

And continue sailing

...

Poetry

Drama

Pronounced

WriteGuy1

1 min read

fingers quivered at the touch

ice cold, the slightly darker shade

hovered over the other

spiked hair, meticulous, for this occasion

the other with newly painted nails, lovely and

emerald green

vice versa, who was over dressed.

the young man was beet red

sweat on the brow, the dirt washed from his fingertips

i could see her, her reflection in those very fingers

surmising what the differen...

Drama

Fantastic Prompt, Thanks

WriteGuy1

1 min read

An emotions moves us

To cause and an action

Tell the butterfly to stuff

Its self and curb

A reaction

Because to insist and insinuate

A new thing that we create

Is to say that we’ve dried and worn the

Conventions of our old palate

My emotion

Is a stubborn, old

Bull chasing red

Rage and grief and sadness

Happiness, joy

We hold on to until we’re dead

Because the idiot and the scholar...

Poetry

Drama

Axylia Putrid

WriteGuy1

1 min read

If the moth wanted a hug

Would the creaky willow

Stretch its ancient arms

A millenia, a moment more?

Would the nest care?

The moth whom has

no need to

consume

Makes camp in your

Breast pocket

To feel

Embrace

Kill all moths

For hiding

So unsettling

To settle

And meddle

In the middle of our memories

Kill all moths they say

Set fire to the forest

Because they want darkness,

A hug and fra...

Poetry

Drama

The Sound Of A _____ Universe

WriteGuy1

1 min read

**_There is a particular poison in getting used to something

An addiction is usage

When we don’t yearn enough for an absence

To be filled by creation

A planet sized crater

On your liver

_**_______ woke up this morning to a bee in \\ ear

**_

_**This bee was whispering to look outside but

**_

_________ _**was scared of the dark and it was too early to see anything but

**_

_**The bee asked ...

Drama

The Circle Of Life Hates Itself

WriteGuy1

1 min read

Lions used to be herbivores

But became kings

** Now they eat **

In wake of destruction

In remembrance of death

**Now they slaughter**

Lions threw off what was

And became what’s next

** No remorse**

They could think

“It’s okay to be eaten”

...

Poetry

Drama

Practice

WriteGuy1

1 min read

A penny apron

A penny for your thoughts

And a penny during practice scrimmage

A pilgrimage to buy a sour pickle

For two dollars and a nickel

A quarterback drops back

For they forgot the play

But will bet a dollar, they’d throw a dime

Because they practice before play

As fickle as loose change,

We do change, do progress

All the same

The author in the bleachers

Practices the same way...

Poetry

Drama

Blood Soaked Flowers

WriteGuy1

1 min read

I do not know the

Man who held my mothers red

dress, bled into, pressed...

Poetry

Drama

Lament, Ice Could’ve Been

WriteGuy1

1 min read

**Hell is sunshine with a Microsoft wallpaper and palm trees **

****

It’s okay for the lake to be dark

A mirror match here

The sun who died and the ice melting on your forehead

When did I live here?

With my head crushed under a rock

The people dripping from the bleachers

An art exhibit on the fourth floor, the back room

Hidden behind curtains, on the side table of oblivion

Let it...

Poetry

Drama