Tabbietabs
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Stories (4)
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Year 2020
This say's start writing. So I guess that is just what I'll do. They pay you if they read, or so they say. So type, type, I'll just type away. Though I may never see you, I do appreciate the views. It's 2020 and it seems like there is not much else to do. People say just Stop. Don't do those things that are just second-nature to do. Covid-19 has left us here, at a stand-point with no direction, no idea of what to do.
By Tabbietabs5 years ago in Humans
Poetry
Poetry is a poem, A song. It is laughter, It is sadness, it is dread, and it is Madness. Poetry is a child dancing in the sunlight, it is a shooting star cutting through the open sky - so impecably bright. It's a wild wolf howling at the moon, or a glare in your window - the kind that shows you every color, while your driving on a Sunday afternoon. Poetry is a feeling, It's a thought. It's something not one person can explain, like a brush stroke on an empty canvas that will surely fill up with paint. Poetry. Much more than a simple written word, it's like a person. Unique however you may interpret.
By Tabbietabs5 years ago in Poets
Moonshadow
I'll ride a snow white stallion to the moon today, just me and him. We'll stay for the day. No one will miss me, I am sure of that. I'm just by myself and that's a true fact. I'll ride a snow white stallion to the moon today, leave this place. Go far away. One day, someday, I hope today. People ask me - Don't you see how could such a horse possibly be? He's not any horse (this stays between you and me) See, he's a very special horse. That only I can see. He has no name to speak, yet with just a whistle he arrives at my feet. Tall and so White. So bright, like fresh fallen snow on a cold winter's night. His mane so long. It would seem that he arrived upon big beautiful wings. Quivering with untamed energy, like a bright star ready to explode. He wears no halter, no saddle, no lead. Just his self, as mighty as can be. He stands with glowing eyes just looking at me. I don't make a movement so as not to spook him, just stare up in wonder and anticipation of the very next moment. I wonder why me? He gracefully lowers his head and that's when I know. I know in my head, In my heart that this was meant to be. I'll ride a snow white stallion to the moon today. Like a shooting star we'll just soar away.
By Tabbietabs5 years ago in Poets
These Dreams
A dream, it can be so many things. So much more than what you can think. A dream is a wish, or a surprise. It could be something so meaningful like the sun rising in the sky. They might be stories of the future, or the past. Like a stolen kiss during a long forgotten dance. A gift, and sometimes a present. Dreams are also not always pleasant. A monster hiding under your bed, or a cold chill that starts at the top of your head. An unpleasant tingling straight to your bones. Dreams can be so many things. Like poetry, they are so much more than the feeling. They can leave so timid, afraid for your toes. Or make the hero, the star of the show. Just close your eyes, you will see. As you sleep you dream up your very own stories.
By Tabbietabs5 years ago in Poets
