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The Writer's Bloc
This blog is a dedicated space for poets of all kinds. Our aim is to share the work of those hidden in the writing community and of course some from our favourites. We try to find new talent, as all of the staff members have different, diverse taste. Thank you for visiting -- Let the inspiration flow.
We track the "poetry" "prose" "spilled ink" and "creative writing" tags.
142 142 30 32 14 39 I wish I had more than poetry to offer
the beauty of the sunrise deserves more
than dreams & love… honesty & passions
childish things i still cling to like a mothers hand
in a world that calculates its happiness to the decimal
all I have are these mysteries of the soul, that
cannot be touched, tallied or accounted for
love alone cannot water a rose
3 50 Round, speckled like a robin’s egg
shaded with flecks of
indigo, yellow, green and pearl.
Floating in the center of her soft,
clean complexion. Pale, like the shell
of an egg, rolled on like dough,
with time and care. Her structure
is smooth, rounded and plump,
a peach freshly picked from a tree
on a dewy morning. Pockets of pink
flutter her cheeks, angelic butterfly
kisses from the heavens. Eyebrows
angled away from her eyes, lightly
placed exactly where they where
meant to be. Her loose, buttery
skin drifts up towards her widows
peak, covered with tousled curls,
glistening under the soft,
gloomy sun rays, peaking through
ominous clouds of gray,
that hover over her mind.She isn’t as perfect as she seems.
(via thediaryofthetwisted-deactivate)
9 10 63 godlike lightning
pride, to me, is a vice
no a knife
no a gun
i pistol whip
and kick the shit
out of love
i’ll be the first to run
and even if you never double cross me
i’ll become your worst enemy
you’ll see
i’m not worthy to don her name
stillborn, my sister
i mourn her everyday
i pray
come sunday with your godlike lightning
and chardonnay wings
this city, once a prism
built by pawns, pillaged by pawns posing as kings
do you sing as if stars aren’t merely sirens without sound?
i found faith by the side of the road once
in a desert ditch, i stitched her broken spine to mine
we danced the whole way home
to spite the dusk darker than a devil’s kiss
i hissed at the submerging sun, “you are my treasure ship…”
“don’t run!”
hypocrisy rolled off my tongue as i spun
Jazzy’s note: Adore this!
(via difficulttolove-deactivated2012)
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