Smell, feel, touch and sound I am a rain child
Tag: Happiness
deep into truncated roses.
seeking the death of my cynicism (it’s like cyanide), to the trill in my chest
dance (with me).
the immobile, the henna; and archaic sands in blue fibers of fields, as the moon-eyed dreamers, you and I—we’re in anamnesis of the womb, our cerise
“Through The Screen” by The Anonymous One.
She messages me My eyes light up And I respond as fast as I can And the message is received
“Fight Again” by Anonymous.
I lay on the ground, my body cold As I can feel my soul lose its hold I try to get up, but fall Useless Defeated I let my soul loosen its grip
fools of happiness.
slumber, my fingers pull over mind, a drowning of us, an open dance, mindlessness evermore;
bloom.
Desert, her eyes are morsels to the jasmine and roses once grown from her wrists, between the flowers in each white finger, whilst the moon falls, leaves barefoot in winter, deserved for posturing an abyss this dance, like an atramentous sea;
blackest feather.
our bodies glaze white under the willows, and water sat her mistress of spindrift wombs, the sun fed the death tree
“Daydream” by C. Wesley Tanner.
You only recently became a Daydream but have always been here, Running beside me as I Escape the reality around me
“Episodes of Distress” by Kevin Davis.
terms of comparison seems irrational Earth is diverse
“A Lovely Day” by adreamy1.
With the clouds in front, it’s a filthy sky.
“Story” by Elle Wilson.
Story Once upon a time Is how stories usually begin Promising adventures In worlds unknown Even though it’s just paper Markings And ink
“Where I’m from” by Anannya Choudhury.
I’m from the old neighborhood The sweet childhood memories From after school games And childish shenanigans
“Independence” by Martin The Poet.
I’m just going to push the boat out, spit some words and mess about. That’s what I love about writing, when you start out you have no idea what to talk about.
“Thick Voices of Repose” by Brand.
On darkened peaks Whose granite walls echo The voices of my heart Joined in constant song And cascade Breaking away impermanence As the only rhythms of the night Washing across synapses branching.
“A Story of Hope” by Kimberly Ray.
A writer yearns to tell their story, any story, that will stand the test of time full of hardships conquered and inspire generations with hope.
“A Clock without time” by Vinisha Panwar.
It was fine
Living with a peace of comfort
Each and every day with time
Running out to please everyone
In a nice cosmic yet real display
“Chapter 1 – Peace” by The Next Chapter.
No hero loves adventure,
No hero enjoys the path.
“Prologue: Hope” By The Next Chapter.
As the Golden Ray departs,
Now this journey begins:
The Next Chapter is here,
And from here shall tell.
Lay under this rock.
let us drown the Arcadia
Pseudopsychosis. 