literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
The Dream
I have had many dreams like this one , I meet people in dreams they say a sentence to me in the dream, I remember them when they say it to me, I usually see them as a Kid. So this dream is about a man that looked like one of the Allman brothers band, he had long blonde hair and a long white beard, this dream was in another dream at the same time witch I will write about later, but back to the dream the long-haired man with the beard had a whole bunch of pencils with him, telling me things while he gave me each one individually, one was to keep his son safe. The next one was for money, the next one was for sex? The next one was for something I can’t remember right now but before my dream moved on. His son was standing next to him, looking directly at me and said remember me… we move on to the next year where I was moving from Brampton to Oakville the reason I will write about later, after living on Rebecca street with my brother Steve. We had to move again to Kerr and Rebecca while this was happening one of steves friends came into the picture asking if he could find a place with us so we found that three-bedroom over top of the comic book store. After moving in we were sitting on the couch and he looked at me like he looked at me in the dream I then knew who he was, I said hold on a minute… I looked at him and described his dad as tall man with long blonde hair and a long white beard? He said, “ how do you know that?” I told him I saw him and his dad in a dream within a dream.
By Jon Harrison5 years ago in Humans
Death Chorus
Midnight blue eyes watch from a high perch as I lose myself. I can feel my emotions fleeting. The life I knew is no more. The feeling of pain, sadness, anger, hurt, all gone in an instant. The last image I see is of his midnight blue eyes. Comforting me into the beyond.
By Mariah Proud5 years ago in Humans
Escape
A single 35 year man with a tattoo on his face with a name that read Janics smiled and thought, “Some things never change.” His name was Thomas Ritso. He lived alone in the city of Chicago. He was sitting, hands folded with his eyes towards the sky. He was thinking of lighting another cigarette. No cigarettes or lighter in his black denim jacket but he could walk to the nearby corner and go into the Sandwich & Soda Stop to get what he needed to smoke. His eyes caught a barn owl perched on the tall white fence surrounding the house. The barn owl was staring in the direction of Thomas but looked as if it were getting ready to fall asleep. Thomas noticed a black squirrel climbing along the fence and eventually running into the now asleep barn owl. Brown and white feathers floated in the air as the barn owl took flight. The black squirrel fell from the fence but landed on its feet and quickly scurried away. The breeze blew the branches of the royal star magnolia tree. It is a beautiful sight to see but he took the squirrel running into the barn owl as a sign that he should go back inside. He got up from his seat on the front porch and made his way inside his house. The door is locked. He reached into his blue jean pants and retrieved a pair of keys. He unlocked the first screen door and then he unlocked the second light blue wooden door. Once he was able to get inside the house, he turned around to lock the door. He then made his way to the study to the left of him. His eyes caught sight of the journal willed to him by his godmother. He thought, “My three bedroom house was given to me after my godfather passed shortly after my godmother. This is the only house on the street that had a barn in the backyard. Still strange to me.” Janics was the name of Thomas’s godmother. The thought of her gone always made him tear up. Thomas was close to his godmother during the last years of life. He grew up in this same house and had cherished the memories of his youth during the times spent inside this house. Thomas grew up as wild as the animals that he soon came to meet during his stay at his godparents house but it was nothing but innocent fun. Thomas walked to the bathroom to get a tissue to wipe the now falling tears coming down his cheeks. He caught a glimpse of his now red eyes and the stream of tears running over the name Janics. He sat on the closed toilet seat and closed his eyes shut hoping that he wouldn’t start crying too much. The thought of his godfather seeing him cry like this when Thomas was going through his divorce brought a smile to Thomas' face. He could hear his godfather talking to him now saying exactly the same thing when Thomas showed up to this same house with the divorce papers signed and finalized, “There is no more pain tied to being unhappily married. You should go on vacation or pick up a new hobby.” Thomas chuckled a bit and stood thinking, “Maybe I should go on vacation.” Thomas' godfather's name was also Thomas. Thomas’ godfather last name was different from Thomas’s last name. Thomas was adopted into a family who used to stay next door to his godparents house. The house next door had gone up for sale and Thomas took it as a sign that maybe he should go on vacation.
By De'John Connerly-Bey5 years ago in Humans
Hysteria and Disillusion
It spoke to me. I'm sure of it. It was midnight. It was quiet. It was silent. I was warming myself near the fireplace. Only the cries of the fire and the wailing of the wind were the gentle noises I could hear. That was my nightly silence.
By Khaos Inkarnatum5 years ago in Humans
Bittersweet entanglement
The ground felt soft beneath his bare feet. Softness tickles. Beds of decaying leaves. Just like moist carpet. Layered. "Softened by rain" he whispered to himself. He felt amused. He closed his eyes. Relying solely on tactile sensations from the ground, he played a game of "I spy" with himself. Prominent midrib. Longish tapering blade. "Eucalyptus!" Spindly soft. "Pine needles."
By Oliver James Damian5 years ago in Humans
Sorrow
A hoot sounded into the silence of the night, the only sound to break the cacophony of thoughts thrashing in my mind. I looked out into the distance and saw it perched onto a branch, so beautiful, so majestic with its creamish gold feathers gleaming in the twilight, this beautiful barn owl watching me disapprovingly; knowingly.
By Jane Eleanor5 years ago in Humans
The Nest
The last time the room had featured an alarm clock the man occupying it had worn a far younger face, younger clothes too. But despite this absence, the only pair of eyelids in the room arose every morning like clockwork at 3:45am. The man swung his legs over the side of the bed, allowing them to fall to the floor without much resistance. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, in the past this might have invigorated him, kick-started his day perhaps? Now it served only to wake him and remind him that he had to face another one. His movements quickened in the following moments, he began to enact a dance he felt he had performed enough by now. He reached down and after fumbling for a time found a ragged old jumper, covered in holes, stains and smelling considerably worse than you're imagining. At great expense to his arms the man hauled it over his head and just to be fair, he expended his legs, raising himself to a standing position. From this position he could make eye contact with a photo of his girls that hung on the wall. He chose not to. Instead, he staggered forward towards a screwed up pair of jeans on the floor, he suddenly felt regret for the way he'd carelessly discarded them the previous evening. Acquired and fitted, his look was complete, not that he was a gentleman with a look. Not that he was a gentleman.
By Dom Borrett5 years ago in Humans
Help Me
HELP ME …..Sobbing! Mother, please help me? A loud drunken voice yells, “She is not going to help you; she knows better!” The young man looks at his mother with desperate tears in his eyes, wanting her protection. They share a moment’s stare looking directly into each other eyes to their soul. The mother breaks into tears and hangs her head. Then a loud noise with a crash as the young man’s vision becomes blurry. The stepfather was looking down on him, laughing, saying, “You are as worthless as she is; why don’t you do us all a favor and end it.”
By George Shannon Ferguson5 years ago in Humans
The Harbinger of Death and The Herald of Light
Mason's eyes were very telling. Entering his 48th year, his face belied the truth about himself….his life had been hard. Years of being homeless, subjected to the harsh and varying weather conditions, had creased his skin permanently, most notably around his eyes. But his eyes themselves…they were a beautiful hazel, more emerald in color than any other. Like the precious jewel, they shone brightly. And they told a story. A story of his life relaying more information than just that of his mental illness and being homeless as a result. They told the story of a man that has seen and felt things more deeply and passionately than most; a blessing and a curse simultaneously. It has been said that the eyes are the windows to a person's soul. Mason was a prime example of this adage.
By Darian McIntosh5 years ago in Humans
