Picture this...(August '14)

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Thread: Picture this...(August '14)

  1. #1
     
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    Picture this...(August '14)



    Write to this picture. Any style. Any length. Go
    Last edited by Mantra; August 2nd, 2014 at 03:03 AM
    ...

  2. #2
    ::..VOCABULUS..:: 143's Avatar
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    Re: Picture this...(August '14)

    I wish time like this would fly fast
    The last thing I would want to do is bathe in pain
    But the grinding of the millstone chimes an eerie chord
    Playing my nerves to twist

    I could hear the sharpness through the air
    Moving aimlessly yet focus on my condition
    The smell of fresh steel enveloped my defenses

    Smiles to ward of his arrival were in vain
    His steps of horror echoed in hollow cranial cavities
    Causing a calamity between haste and recession
    Rhythmically pacing for his duty

    And I saw his arrival
    His face macabre, stoic
    Replacing the lost battle that my Grandfather entered
    Honoring an enemy

    He walks away carrying my Grandfather to the afterlife
    Tending to his rituals....he stops in mid stride
    Reflecting in the tears I was drowning my toes in, he gives me attention
    A memory that only my Grandfather and I could only bear
    He wasn't greedy
    Maybe he was a Grandfather too
    Knowing how much it hurts when you leave this Earth
    Forgetting tomorrows as they pass without you
    Growing on the hearts of love ones who worship your seat at the table
    Being the beacon of the family......

    He gives me back the time when we celebrated
    His facial plates of bones cracked a smile
    And I was no longer afraid.......


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    Best Topical Writer: 143

  3. #3
    Kept on a short leash
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    Re: Picture this...(August '14)

    Time to die.
    Welcome to your new life.

  4. #4
    Fear Before The March Foreshadow's Avatar
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    Re: Picture this...(August '14)

    Do you love me?
    Please, look me in the face..
    I've gathered these souls
    composed with flames.

    Here.. take them..

    Here..

  5. #5
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    Re: Picture this...(August '14)

    She shivers;
    a Winter-like breeze alarms the hairs on her neck.
    Listening to the story her mother struggles to read.
    Cherry balloons startle from the corner of her eye,
    daddy sneezes to surprise her with pollinated flowers.
    Mommy wipes a tear from her cheek, kissing her daughter.
    When the little angel begins to shake and wheeze,
    doctors storm the room like ants scavenging food.
    Caffeine motivated hands trying to inject the placebo,
    but her episode is going by too fast as she flails about.
    Tongue tied with the punching bag in the back of her throat,
    pupils focused on the imagination behind her perfect face.

    There's a man in the corner;
    dressed like he's ready for a funeral.
    She asks if he's lost someone dear,
    he replies, "no, I'm here to make a friend."

    Her mother soaks a tissue with salted sorrow,
    chest sore from hours of uncontrolled breathing.
    As bottles tower at the feet of a desperate father.
    The silence is deafening; a home full of decay,
    both just do whatever they can to simply get away.
    Cigarette ash stains the walls- vomit colors carpets,
    unaware she's watching from heaven's balcony.
    Uneasy, she wrestles the mans sleeve,
    begging him to tell them it's all just a dream.
    He disagrees, she misunderstands, this isn't a lie,
    he explains to her the cancer finally won the fight.
    She sobs, he cradles her...

    "Don't worry, my sweet Annabelle, they'll too feel your enlightenment."

  6. #6
    contrived.
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    up



    stained glass.
    centuries came and went
    in an Amen's riverbed. on a blade of grass,
    dew drops evaporate. maybe, more-
    a ray of light instead, flickered out
    like the sudden summer rains that spite
    a tiny window's paned descent.
    i am awash in you
    your name is read, a lost balloon,
    I watch as it strays the breadth of
    my sill's broken shade- a sunset
    like the soaking stain when you'd
    throw your glass of red and then complain that
    I never brought you flowers. or made the bed.
    I cannot look away, in times like this,
    but watch the sun's towering reign decay
    like a lost balloon, losing air; or flowers
    before they're ruined, gray. I've not improved.
    The hours sink me in my seat-
    like a gob of glaze in an aged mosaic,
    through the courtyard view to Sunday school.
    i'm awash in you. a seat i'd sink into
    for hours, like rain in an ancient riverbed

    "daddy, where do you go when you die?"

    I cut the balloon's string, laid the bouquet down.
    "undergound. like a flower stem. but you'll
    wake up, away in the sky-"

    "like heaven?"

    "no"
    I only stop by to look through you.





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    Originally Posted by Baxter D. Wall
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    That green is too loud for my tastes.

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