Prose
TRICKLES OF TIME
1/ We are trickles of time that fall off freely together with the ticking seconds leaving behind numbers. Naked amidst the busyness named as days... We are wanderers of fate that intertwine tackle the rivers of destiny. And never be able to digest the future. ; Because we are just God's Boats which never the ends. Looking for its own estuary. 2/ We humans are mortal beings. 'Always stammering spelling the word love in prayers'. Going from one silence to another (feeling happy). Then the world is like a mirage full of expectations. We humans walk the road in thirst. We are humans travel the distance, on a path built from the desires of others (feeling alienated).
By Shafa Ichwanus9 months ago in Poets
Happy Mother's Day to Thelma Mae
Happy Mother’s Day to Thelma Mae My Mom, Forever & Always My mom had a massive heart attack as she was to her roses. My brother and I produced a production as her funeral to be joyful. I wore a red dress, red tights, and red high heels. We sang the song by Elvis Presley, "Mamma Liked the Roses". Every word that you hear from the song is what happened. I Mod Podged her roses. I did place them in the family Bible. I will share the song that was the theme for my mom. She loved music, art, and decorating her home.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 9 months ago in Poets
Take me as I am or leave me.
Loving you is exhausting. There are so many rules. Too many things to remember. What I can and cannot say. Who must hear my words, who must not. Do you not understand by now that I cannot disguise my emotions? It diminishes my soul just too much for me to bear. I refuse! Take me as I am or leave me. My heart will remain yours whether you accept it or not.
By Katerina Petrou9 months ago in Poets
Love is more than…
It seems like all I write about is you. God, is it boring. I do not want to be this writer. I do not want to be this woman. There is so much more to life than the nights my longing cries hit a pillowcase. Love is more than you not loving me too. It is lemon pie and jazz and black coffee. It is pho with my sister in a quiet corner. Love is dancing until I sweat. It is overflowing bookshelves and flicking through magazine pages with feet swaying in the air. Love is more than you loving her instead of me.
By Katerina Petrou9 months ago in Poets
Darkened Grief.
No one ever truly heals from grief. It’s a forever thing. We might go on smiling, laughing, and enjoying the sun on our skin, but inside, there’s a darkness that even the brightest light can’t reach. Grief is a constant—like a dark cloud swirling inside us, always waiting to strike. It’s like lightning, or a snake hidden in the bushes—silent, patient. Grief waits for the perfect moment to knock us off our feet.
By April Kirby.9 months ago in Poets
Happy Mother's Day
Dear Mom, How's everything up there? I wondering what you are thinking about on days such as this. You have your mom now to do you still say Happy Mother's Day to her. I still feel you and dad and Tim around me all the time whispering in my ear what to do from time to time especially when some decisions must be made.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Poets
