I can not measure our love
in words, but in how tight
we hug when we finally
see each other again. There
is starshine in your smile
and I could swear that you
are Aurora, wreathed in
beauty, but with less sleeping
and more ass-kicking.
You are kind and selfless,
a true paragon of love
and a goddess of all things
good. where most have blood,
you have eternal love.
all the light in the world
is simply not enough
to express the light
your friendship and
love bring to me.
Passion and excitement
exude from everything
that you do and you pour
your heart into; everything you
make, everything you touch.
When we first met, there wasn't
a doubt in
I don't want to write a sappy love poem.
I want to write about colliding collarbones,
and the way your fingernails etch my skin,
so that come morning I can feel the moans.
I don't want to need to talk to you.
I want to let our lips speak with sighs and such,
and have your hands write words of sin on me,
so that come night I can read the story of their touch.
I don't want a low-key lust.
I want your pearls piercing deep beneath,
and bruising my bare flesh,
so that come morrow I still see marks of your teeth.
I don't want to be fragile and afraid.
I want to be gripped with the rough strength of your palms,
and conquered with the c
It's a proof,
That the Characters you created lives.
That Characters you made,
They can feel emotions.
That Characters you draw,
They can be like humans.
You are the reason,
Why they are here.
You give them Names,
Identities,
Personalities,
EVERYTHING.
Because of you they exist.
That's why we need to hold them close to our hearts.
They also need love and care,
Treat them as our own family.
They laugh with you, They cry with you,
They know what you feel.
Because of them you're positive and smiling.
Don't ever forget them, Never abandon them,
Don't ever lose them.
They are our precious treasures,
That cannot be replaced.
there’s a cross inked down the flat plane of his back,
one thick line of black punctured by the jut of bone,
but a shrug of fabric later and that’s all gone –
was it ever really there in the first place?
the lone paper bag in the corner of the room
has wrinkles all over its front and back,
trademark symbols of wisdom and serenity –
gone through mass production and rough hands.
a still body of water slowly clouds over in the tub,
the temperature warm enough to fight away goosebumps
but cold enough for you to want to sink into it and never rise –
one slow trickle is all it takes for empty gaps to fill up over
I am not your damsel in distress.
My skin is no longer the milky white alabaster of a flawlessly sculpted statue,
too afraid to jump out the tower she built herself because she knew she would shatter.
My skin is the soft amber of a human girl who lost her wings,
dived into the ocean,
and spent more than one too many days swimming this newfound freedom,
but more than two short of enough.
I am not your trophy, your jeweled treasure chest.
My hair is not an abundant waist-long waterfall of melted gold,
and I am not the size 0 I used to so blatantly long for.
My body is
Why must we all climb the ladder?
This corporate stairway to a fictional heaven of financial security?
Why does age denote seniority,
Why does experience get placed before ingenuity?
Ladies and gentlemen, I do not see a working system.
What I see is a cleverly constructed societal cage,
enforced by dying old men clinging to mountains of immaterial wealth.
What a society should be, is one that is based on objective ability;
But such a thing would require trust.
What a society should be, is a pure meritocracy;
But the flocking weaklings prefer to deny the strong and independent.
And so my friends, I suggest this:
We play their game.
We work
7 Tips For Writing Action Scenes by DesdemonaDeBlake, literature
Literature
7 Tips For Writing Action Scenes
7 Tips For Writing Action Scenes
Anybody Can Write a Novel
Chapter 7 “From Story to Art” – Section 7 “Action Scenes”
With Links to Supplementary Material
Action scenes in a novel are a difficult tool to master, but well worth the time and effort to create dramatic an memorable scenes that will engage and entertain your readers. To pull them off effectively, you must be able to keep a quick yet varied pace, keep a tight focus, reflect your story, and make it all quick and crisp. Today, I'm going to give you a starting-point for honing your skills in this method of storytelling.
Tip 1: Create a visible plane
It’s hard to believe
It’s been six years since the Earthquake Café.
Since the Science Center froze our shadows on the wall.
I wonder if they’re still there.
Six years since we made people double-take,
Look crooked at us and issue back-hand compliments,
And I’d say, thanks? I think.
Since we were that pair of people.
Six years and still not comfortable
Calling it a couple, “it’s complicated”
That status on Facebook was made for us then.
Seventy-two moons since the solstice
Where you were the first
And the last
Person to ever make me blush.
You’ll have to forgive the nostalgia.
This is
take an evening -
reclassify emotions as chemical compounds.
remove one atom,
see what changes.
take your field notes, transcribe them
back to front.
add line breaks.
be scientific. be too scientific.
replace the word 'entropy'
with the word 'god'.
be so full of want that you can feel it
scraping its numb jaws against your insides.
write about flowers instead.
make your first line provocative.
follow it, let it unfurl -
ctrl a.
del.
inauthentic, try again.
ctrl z.
who the fuck
wants authenticity
?
read, find inspiration.
find new ways to plagiarize old ideas.
stop reading.
hash and rehash,
slash and burn.
look at the mess you've mad
My heart overflows with gratitude to you for the wonderful way that you've been treating me since our breakup. The past months have been truly enlightening, and the gifts that you have given to me have warmed my heart, strengthened my spirit, and broadened my mind.
First, I must thank you for ignoring me, especially for passing me straight on the street, staring at your shoes as if you hadn't seen me there, even though I had been walking so close to you that our shoulders would have bumped each other, had there been only a foot's less distance between us. The time without you has forced me to reach within myself for the companionship and enc
She blew in on the last day of summer, arriving just as the wind began, clutching an artist’s portfolio and a hatbox. There was wonder and wisdom in her bright blue eyes, softened by time and crow’s-feet, and a perfect maple leaf the color of flame was caught in her unruly red hair… her perfume hinted of woodsmoke and oak tannins and the spice of faraway, foreign ports. I helped her carry her hatbox from the train station, and when she smiled at me, I knew everything was about to change.
We shared a cab to the little seaside town where we were both staying, there on the cusp of the world; it had long been one of my favorite