Adrift
A racking walk I took down Memory Lane,
to a time when words had been my only escape.
And when in gloom, a cheery future I was sure to gain.
"Indeed one day, I'd stand akimbo with a cape !"
Set out to sail, youthful and sane.
I fortified my vessel and left no holes agape.
Face set to the sun, wind in my mane,
"To now and the future", a toast, I made.
With verses jostling in my heart, no sheet was left plain;
A mad man's tale; a lad named kade;
A hunter's quest; a heart broken yet again;
On and on, the pages I filled, even of Earth's first wake.
Now lost at sea, my eyes a windowpane.
Fingers cold and grey from nothing to frame.
A gift once a joy, now a bane.
And those were the days of a passion I hope one day to reclaim.
#sor3h
#review
#poetry
A racking walk I took down Memory Lane,
to a time when words had been my only escape.
And when in gloom, a cheery future I was sure to gain.
"Indeed one day, I'd stand akimbo with a cape !"
Set out to sail, youthful and sane.
I fortified my vessel and left no holes agape.
Face set to the sun, wind in my mane,
"To now and the future", a toast, I made.
With verses jostling in my heart, no sheet was left plain;
A mad man's tale; a lad named kade;
A hunter's quest; a heart broken yet again;
On and on, the pages I filled, even of Earth's first wake.
Now lost at sea, my eyes a windowpane.
Fingers cold and grey from nothing to frame.
A gift once a joy, now a bane.
And those were the days of a passion I hope one day to reclaim.
#sor3h
#review
#poetry
(I don't really have a title yet. I don't mind a few suggestions. )
With the uncertainties surrounding our existence,
you conceive and add to humanity's grievance.
I ask, is it selfishness or indifference?
You might mistake my concern for insolence;
Perhaps, perceive my subjectivity as a nuisance.
My apologies; I only ponder the fates of the innocents.
Is it a thing of joy to exist or an ordeal to endure as an act of obeisance ?
Take not these sayings to heart;
I do not care much for credence.
I only worry for the innocents—the new borns.
Are we the ill-fated or the privileged ones?
Is it a thing of joy to exist or an ordeal to endure?
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
With the uncertainties surrounding our existence,
you conceive and add to humanity's grievance.
I ask, is it selfishness or indifference?
You might mistake my concern for insolence;
Perhaps, perceive my subjectivity as a nuisance.
My apologies; I only ponder the fates of the innocents.
Is it a thing of joy to exist or an ordeal to endure as an act of obeisance ?
Take not these sayings to heart;
I do not care much for credence.
I only worry for the innocents—the new borns.
Are we the ill-fated or the privileged ones?
Is it a thing of joy to exist or an ordeal to endure?
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
(A little something inspired by the main character, Izumi Shinchi, from the anime, Parasyte The Marxim)
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain.
Like a memoir;
A narrative on skin.
Beneath the mar;
Grim mysteries lay plain.
Black as tar,
is your mind's domain.
A child you are;
Motherless you'll remain.
Her death so bizarre,
rendered you inhumane.
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain;
A grim reminder,
of the monster you contain.
#poetry
#sor3h
#review
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain.
Like a memoir;
A narrative on skin.
Beneath the mar;
Grim mysteries lay plain.
Black as tar,
is your mind's domain.
A child you are;
Motherless you'll remain.
Her death so bizarre,
rendered you inhumane.
A jagged scar;
An emblem of gross pain;
A grim reminder,
of the monster you contain.
#poetry
#sor3h
#review
Empty words were all Mustang muttered as she trotted back and forth the length of the enclosed field. Once or twice, my ears caught a sentence but no more than that. With my back to the fence, I slowly slid down to the grass and let out a deep sigh of relief which earned me a snort from my companion.
"You're not listening" She complained.
"Sorry." I answered with a tired wave of my hand. Although, my eyes were to the ground, I knew when Mustang came to stand over me. So, I peered up from under my lashes at the mass of shinny black skin in front of me. I allowed my eyes to travel up the length of her body and met her gaze. My chest tightened.
"I didn't do it..."
A series of images flashed through my mind. A girl. In a bathing suit. Water splashing.
I clasped my hands down over my head, a pathetic attempts to stop the invasion.
Mustang's lowered herself to the ground, her legs folding neatly beneath her. She continued to observe me.
The memories kept flooding back without warning and I felt my walls come apart. I was by the lake again. The sun was warm against my skin. Big brown eyes were gazing up at me. Her laughter piercing my ears.
I must have appeared dazed because Mustang nudged me with her muzzle, pulling me from my reverie.
"Do you remember what happened?" Mustang's inquired, her voice cool and even.
I shook my head in response.
She stretched out two long legs and crossed one hoof over the other. Then she said ,
"Tell me what you remember," ignoring my answer.
I clutched my chest as my heart threatened to tear out of my ribs.
More images.
I let my head my hang low and began the story as I remembered it.
"Abigail and I. She's laughing and..." My voice caught in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears.
I didn't do it.
"She kept calling me by another name. Shan—" I shut my eye lids tightly, trying to recall.
"Ashanti?" Mustang chipped in. I lifted up my face to look at her for a brief moment and returned my gaze to the earth.
"Ashanti..." I repeated slowly. It felt awfully familiar. I drew in a deep breath and carried on.
"She wanted us to go deeper into the water. Something...about being one with nature."
"So, she took my hand, and pulled me deeper. Then..."
I paused and tried to slow my breathing. Every muscle in my body was tensed. As if sensing my inner struggles, Mustang nestled her head in my lap. I was taken aback by the gesture and reached out with unsteady fingers to stroked her mane.
****
Little Ashanti's eyes fluttered open to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Dull brown eyes stared back. She picked up her stuffed animal and flung herself onto her bed. Lost in thought, She resumed stroking her animal.
"Mustang?" She called out .
"Yes, Ashanti?"
"I'm bored." She mumbled.
No response.
"Can I change the story I'm telling myself?" She said.
"I feared you never would." replied Mustang.
A smile settled on her lips. Ashanti closed her eyes and travelled far.
#wca
#wcss
#prompt
#sor3h
#review
"You're not listening" She complained.
"Sorry." I answered with a tired wave of my hand. Although, my eyes were to the ground, I knew when Mustang came to stand over me. So, I peered up from under my lashes at the mass of shinny black skin in front of me. I allowed my eyes to travel up the length of her body and met her gaze. My chest tightened.
"I didn't do it..."
A series of images flashed through my mind. A girl. In a bathing suit. Water splashing.
I clasped my hands down over my head, a pathetic attempts to stop the invasion.
Mustang's lowered herself to the ground, her legs folding neatly beneath her. She continued to observe me.
The memories kept flooding back without warning and I felt my walls come apart. I was by the lake again. The sun was warm against my skin. Big brown eyes were gazing up at me. Her laughter piercing my ears.
I must have appeared dazed because Mustang nudged me with her muzzle, pulling me from my reverie.
"Do you remember what happened?" Mustang's inquired, her voice cool and even.
I shook my head in response.
She stretched out two long legs and crossed one hoof over the other. Then she said ,
"Tell me what you remember," ignoring my answer.
I clutched my chest as my heart threatened to tear out of my ribs.
More images.
I let my head my hang low and began the story as I remembered it.
"Abigail and I. She's laughing and..." My voice caught in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears.
I didn't do it.
"She kept calling me by another name. Shan—" I shut my eye lids tightly, trying to recall.
"Ashanti?" Mustang chipped in. I lifted up my face to look at her for a brief moment and returned my gaze to the earth.
"Ashanti..." I repeated slowly. It felt awfully familiar. I drew in a deep breath and carried on.
"She wanted us to go deeper into the water. Something...about being one with nature."
"So, she took my hand, and pulled me deeper. Then..."
I paused and tried to slow my breathing. Every muscle in my body was tensed. As if sensing my inner struggles, Mustang nestled her head in my lap. I was taken aback by the gesture and reached out with unsteady fingers to stroked her mane.
****
Little Ashanti's eyes fluttered open to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Dull brown eyes stared back. She picked up her stuffed animal and flung herself onto her bed. Lost in thought, She resumed stroking her animal.
"Mustang?" She called out .
"Yes, Ashanti?"
"I'm bored." She mumbled.
No response.
"Can I change the story I'm telling myself?" She said.
"I feared you never would." replied Mustang.
A smile settled on her lips. Ashanti closed her eyes and travelled far.
#wca
#wcss
#prompt
#sor3h
#review
Good morning
Surely, morn will come,
And darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
And weak will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
And my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
When the cock finally crows.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
Surely, morn will come,
And darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
And weak will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
And my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
When the cock finally crows.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
Good Morning
Surely, morn will come,
and darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
and thin will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
and my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
when the cock finally crows;
Ye, when the sky cracks open.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
I need your opinion on this:
*Should the last line of the second stanza stay or go?
*Would it be better as a one stanza poem with only 10 lines (assuming I remove that last line )
Surely, morn will come,
and darkness will lose its glow.
The sun will rise, plum,
and thin will be the shadows.
The birds will sing—a custom,
and my dirge will bow—a foe.
To raindrops like drums,
I will jive, bop and mambo!
For fear will succumb,
when the cock finally crows;
Ye, when the sky cracks open.
#sor3h
#poetry
#review
I need your opinion on this:
*Should the last line of the second stanza stay or go?
*Would it be better as a one stanza poem with only 10 lines (assuming I remove that last line )
Curtain call
When all is said and done,
we will lie sprawled under the sun,
and recur the seasons of verdure and savory dew;
the ethereality of life anew.
When your fur coat turns dun,
and the fireflies, now, you shun,
we will bury our noses in tales, utopian yet blue
and strive to keep a clear hue, wiping a tear or two.
When the battle is won,
and the final curtain is drawn,
over your entrails, a new beginning will ensue.
It is airy tonight, my Canine,
Adieu.
(the last line in the seconds stanza is a reference to the Japanese animated series, Psycho Pass. According to Wiki Fandom, in Psycho Pass, Hue is a reflection of a person's stress level.)
#review
#sor3h
#poerty
When all is said and done,
we will lie sprawled under the sun,
and recur the seasons of verdure and savory dew;
the ethereality of life anew.
When your fur coat turns dun,
and the fireflies, now, you shun,
we will bury our noses in tales, utopian yet blue
and strive to keep a clear hue, wiping a tear or two.
When the battle is won,
and the final curtain is drawn,
over your entrails, a new beginning will ensue.
It is airy tonight, my Canine,
Adieu.
(the last line in the seconds stanza is a reference to the Japanese animated series, Psycho Pass. According to Wiki Fandom, in Psycho Pass, Hue is a reflection of a person's stress level.)
#review
#sor3h
#poerty
The promise
A fine young woman, you've become.
Standing before him was his girl. And as she looked up at him with a dazzling smile, the universe couldn't be any more right about this moment. He knew in his heart that her coming into his life was destiny. It had to be. Cupping her face in his hands, he searched her eyes for any hint of regret. He lingered. Waiting for anything. A flicker of doubt, maybe. But her hazel colored eyes only looked at him with admiration—or so he thought. In that moment, her eyebrows furrowed and her thin lips were slightly turned down—just the way they do when she disapproved of something.
Did she have regrets? His hands slowly fell to his sides in defeat. Could this be the end? 7 years he had nurtured her. He tore his eyes away from hers.
"What's wrong?" She inquired, taking his hands in hers and giving them a tight squeeze. She glanced back over her shoulder at the small crowd that had gathered behind them. She gave them a sorry look and turned back her attention to the man before her.
In response, he gave her a nervous smile.
"Nothing..." The uncertainty in his voice was too obvious to miss. Studying her delicate features again, the quizzical look he had seen on her face earlier must have been her just reacting to the disturbing face he was wearing earlier.
Silly me, he thought. He had raised a perceptive girl.
Feeling a little more confident, he pulled her into a hug. At first, she was stiff against his buldging chest but she melted against him, taking in his scent and relishing the moment. He tightened his grip around her tiny frame.
My little girl.
He dropped kisses on her brown curls, running his fingers through them. Even those resembled the heap of tousled hair on his head. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that she wasn't his—that she had been his victim—that the people behind her were her family. Her true family.
Damn the law.
"Are you crying?" She pushed against him.
Embarrassed, he tore at his face, wiping his eyes rather too viciously.
"N-n-no of course not." He stammered.
She giggled and playfully jabbed him with an elbow.
"A wise man once told me, it's okay to cry." She said, a smirk playing on her lips.
He threw his head back laughing like a kid.
Smart smart girl.
Quoting him at a time like this.
"Crazy old man." He muttered.
Just then, the horn blared behind them, startling the duo. They both knew what that meant.
No matter what the press said—Stockholm Syndrome or not, she loved him and he loved her.
"Do you resent me?" He finally had the courage to ask after 7 years of trying.
"For what?" She looked genuinely clueless.
"Taking you....from your family."
She didn't have an answer to that and she wasn't going to think too deeply on it. Standing on her tip toes, She dropped a tender kiss on the temple of the man she had come to know and love. He was family. All she knew was that in one year, she'll be recognized by the Law as an adult.
"One year." She whispered, sticking up her index finger in his face.
"One year." He understood, wrapping his index around hers.
#review
#shortstory
#sor3h
(I had written this in the hopes of submitting it for the activity but oh well oh well 😂)
A fine young woman, you've become.
Standing before him was his girl. And as she looked up at him with a dazzling smile, the universe couldn't be any more right about this moment. He knew in his heart that her coming into his life was destiny. It had to be. Cupping her face in his hands, he searched her eyes for any hint of regret. He lingered. Waiting for anything. A flicker of doubt, maybe. But her hazel colored eyes only looked at him with admiration—or so he thought. In that moment, her eyebrows furrowed and her thin lips were slightly turned down—just the way they do when she disapproved of something.
Did she have regrets? His hands slowly fell to his sides in defeat. Could this be the end? 7 years he had nurtured her. He tore his eyes away from hers.
"What's wrong?" She inquired, taking his hands in hers and giving them a tight squeeze. She glanced back over her shoulder at the small crowd that had gathered behind them. She gave them a sorry look and turned back her attention to the man before her.
In response, he gave her a nervous smile.
"Nothing..." The uncertainty in his voice was too obvious to miss. Studying her delicate features again, the quizzical look he had seen on her face earlier must have been her just reacting to the disturbing face he was wearing earlier.
Silly me, he thought. He had raised a perceptive girl.
Feeling a little more confident, he pulled her into a hug. At first, she was stiff against his buldging chest but she melted against him, taking in his scent and relishing the moment. He tightened his grip around her tiny frame.
My little girl.
He dropped kisses on her brown curls, running his fingers through them. Even those resembled the heap of tousled hair on his head. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that she wasn't his—that she had been his victim—that the people behind her were her family. Her true family.
Damn the law.
"Are you crying?" She pushed against him.
Embarrassed, he tore at his face, wiping his eyes rather too viciously.
"N-n-no of course not." He stammered.
She giggled and playfully jabbed him with an elbow.
"A wise man once told me, it's okay to cry." She said, a smirk playing on her lips.
He threw his head back laughing like a kid.
Smart smart girl.
Quoting him at a time like this.
"Crazy old man." He muttered.
Just then, the horn blared behind them, startling the duo. They both knew what that meant.
No matter what the press said—Stockholm Syndrome or not, she loved him and he loved her.
"Do you resent me?" He finally had the courage to ask after 7 years of trying.
"For what?" She looked genuinely clueless.
"Taking you....from your family."
She didn't have an answer to that and she wasn't going to think too deeply on it. Standing on her tip toes, She dropped a tender kiss on the temple of the man she had come to know and love. He was family. All she knew was that in one year, she'll be recognized by the Law as an adult.
"One year." She whispered, sticking up her index finger in his face.
"One year." He understood, wrapping his index around hers.
#review
#shortstory
#sor3h
(I had written this in the hopes of submitting it for the activity but oh well oh well 😂)