poetry prose pyrope

Dear Ether, you have held the gentle planet 
And likened it to softness, life, and flowers. 
My admiration burns, in confidence.
It stings that you betrayed your innocence
By thinking that your pen was drained of powers.
The blossoms didn’t die, nor did your heart,
Don’t take your old thoughts lightly. Every hour
Malt suns wither and shrink. But it’s an art 
To verily believe. And you are skilled
Perhaps by not surrendering. It’s hard-
But you and I and earth are living still. 


For I do not believe in death

etherlighter:

At midnight, or I didn’t care
The wind blew strong
The plant had fallen from the window-
to the dirt
The moon illuminated as the moments
of the fall were heard

The storm lasted until the morning
till it broke
the dirt blasted the window
and the air
The dirt fell through the everywhere
in epic song

the plant in orange-red was gone
The dirt that fell through the abyss
two stories high
The plant that vanished in the wind-it didn’t die
For I do not believe in death
For evermore
For I do not believe in death
Upon my earth

Dear Ether, you have held the gentle planet 
And likened it to softness, life, and flowers. 
My admiration burns, in confidence.
It stings that you betrayed your innocence
By thinking that your pen was drained of powers.
The blossoms didn’t die, nor did your heart,
Don’t take your old thoughts lightly. Every hour
Malt suns wither and shrink. But it’s an art 
To verily believe. And you are skilled
Perhaps by not surrendering. It’s hard-
But you and I and earth are living still. 


silentwriters:

Calling all writers: experienced, just beginning, known, or otherwise!

We’re back, and this time, we propose a challenge.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is as follows:

Take a piece, any piece (prose, poetry, even a scribble) from some point in your past. “How old?” you ask?…



Some seas spill satin sunsets past their harbors.
I cannot harbor feelings behind walls-
Tsunamis of the soul, considered noble
Dictate my early thought: nothing or all. 

Stars are too sweet for telescopes to capture, 
And I’m in love with sacrificing glass
For cosmos born directly at my fingers.
Why does the human heart have to be vast? 


A Stellar Scattering

A stellar scattering befriends the grass-
The domes of ether are forever shattering. 
A tribute and a legend of new earth, 
The flowers of eternity are tattering
The soil’s steady hand with sharpest blaze. 
If you ask me, this light is rather flattering. 


Inevitable Action

The moon refuses permanent perfection,
Allowing flaws to cloud and crack her skin,
With night taking inevitable action
To keep her opal eyes in resurrection- 
A constant that light gathers from within. 
The dark has laughed too long- I need distractions. 



The tulips are as red as love is raw, 
And by the jury’s word, crimson it is! 
I’m guilty, as was stated by the law, 
For I have let my heart become too bright..
My crimes may be forgiven with a kiss, 
But I’m afraid to blind myself with light. 



Two sisters, born in floral effigy
Unveiled the demise of bland and civil- 
The festering disease within all hearts 
Was plaguing every step and every river. 
With death they let epiphany unfold-
The madness turned to silver and to gold
As dust over the water and the sky:
Stardust and sweeter sigils of the spring. 
Let blood disintegrate through lullabies, 
While love and sugared ignorance prevail. 


a real cool lawyer 

For the reddest

meschevous:

image

I have this sign
i was born under.
A pound of ponder,
a house of uncertainty.
A balance of wonder,
and you wouldn’t wonder it is
    tilted from the middle
even amongst these 12 animals.
Odd sorts of blindness
rest in equilibrium.
- Rest is what you get
after a long neat division -.

Ether,
reddest scalemate,
thanks for inviting me
to celebrate this day
and to learn of trolls (outré lot).
You breathe out
and ink smokes dragons’ fire.
Mythical fly,
magma-eyed,
burn,
burn,
burn!

- meschevous


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