Creative Writing
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Stretch acrossthat long overdueplace, that youoversaw. Dreams wererough, among clouds,hopeful among thunder.Nothing became life,within that blunder. Someone else told youthat life cannot worsen,when hurts are past,like shadows cast. No kiss everreturned, from bliss,from stings of concern. Where you turnedlike leaves blowing east,I kept to my knees. I kept finding fruitin those shadows, formedfrom your tears.…
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If Autumn lifts itsleaves, back to tremblingboughs. When all thatfell, comes back to haunta deserted mother,we will see our tears returnup from its surrender,with words to rememberwithout fog aboveour vast ocean. Love makes musicin grief, without sightupon reunion. What drownsbecome glimmers amongthose waves, gone downin their crash to lashthose backs, where morewords are written. Scars…
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I cannot care enoughto live, if I cannotremember enoughto love. All those linesdrawn for winter’s arrivalof gray. Though, you keepblooming, while heartsare buried deep. With this sadness,comes madness, out ofsome former symptomof gladness. All those tearsthat fell, together.All those downpoursthat kept our hopesonly floating. What travels, if notmeaning to stop? What stops,if not meaning to…
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Stirring glance,a summer’s dancewhere blushing storiesare told, underforgotten worries. I will renouncea scene for remorse.I will resoundthose etched, scrawled vows,renewing what cannotleave, from where itever stopped. Caught tears,in a puddle for collection.Cards laid downto gamble, one final time,on a heart thatforever chimes. Wiped smearson cheeks meant to glow. I come to hearyour grief, where it…
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In each other’s eyes,for each other’s cries,within each other’s sighsdisappearing intoafternoon storms.Drifting above,falling below.Winter has ever beenthat glacier moving slow. An inborn slipto one lying tongue,as I had to consolethat one who took a tollto breathe, before she soldher heart, froma hundred folds, in onebook of promises. One hundred pauses,one more break to seewhat refuses…
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If heavens held,in supported wings,for passion’s melt.If eyes were skyward,words were forward,sentences were clearwithout storms. I had taken to you,before rocks had fallen.Ice, with heartsthat sunk with ships.A love, gone overboard,burying our skies,thumping to a faint rhythm,thundering with a distant soundwhere our storm moves onwith its gathered gray. Speaking in a sequence,trembling before those coldwindows,…
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There might be violetsto see from storms.There might be wordsbefore those swords,ever were held againstyour fragile neck. Because you wantto disbelieve in those signs,that we conceived.Because of that, you moved,without ever rememberingour state, our bliss. A dream, this terriblegave you tremors from adifferent source. A nightmare, this sweetgave you hope to seebeyond where stains seeped.…
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Answers. Reconnectour surrender. If we keepsummer, drawn over,as blank pages, we have drownedin our thunder. We have left, our eyesstinging for each other’s stare.Our passion rises,our currents swell.Oceans have moved on,when fires have died. We had left, our tonguesat that frozen word,exploring doubt, in a subtleshout. One crude sign, upona least driven road.A single point…
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Departure. At a drift.Regression, before a kissmight have receded these waveswhile I walk on for cliffsto send beneath, this fall. Mute this note. Force onemouth to close. I have beentoo close, for words to connect. Loss of grace. A lack of waterin its space. Leaving marks, trailsfor your ghost to follow. Dry lips. Emptied arms.Folded…
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Till we canstand, before wedrown on two legs.I presented youa distant paradise,condemned at a strugglefrom newfound parasites. You extinguished, beforefire could lash your tongue.Messages have sparked.Words did go outa door I never saw. Before passion might havestung you into silence,water brought us down,lowest to drown. When we can stand,love will borrow its thirddegree, from someplacewe…
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I have been inthese wet grounds, huggingbandages of soil. I keep thesefingers pressed againsta lid, still too far awayto see another day. Buried in thoughtsthat eclipse a former timewhen pain brought life,while heartbeats now bringsickness with strife. A rose, I grewout of brambles.Thorns pieced love’severy vein, to leave paintingsas bloodstains, wheremight have beensolid footsteps. I…
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Trade-off. Pay whatkeeps our hearts empty.Loss, with trivial costs,light in a fervent blightwhile we rediscover secretsengrained in lone memory. All those moments, half-drowned under wholemoons. We prayed, down underfilthy weather, engenderedin surrender. One moremoment to reconsiderthose sunrises. Were theyour answer, or our cancer? Those thousand embers,these hundred glimpseswe felt our arms, this tenderin one memory.…
Modern Romanticism 