Fiction Published by Members Recently Online Poems
#fiction
PRAYERS ON THE TIN ROOF OF HEAVEN
prayers
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
#religion
#fiction
#mythology
290 reads
2 Comments
PRAYERS ON THE TIN ROOF OF HEAVEN
prayers
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
#religion
#fiction
#mythology
290 reads
2 Comments
PRAYERS ON THE TIN ROOF OF HEAVEN
prayers
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
are like rain
to god
so it's no wonder
he doesn't hear
many particulars
but just stands
at the window
listening to them
hit the roof
and watching them
puddle in the drive
and wash that part of the yard
where grass won't grow
and he wonders if the
roof is still leaking
and thinks he might
pull the ladder down
and check the attic
but, hell, he's so tired
and the rafters
will still be wet
with the want
and desperation
of 7.9 billion
some odd souls
if...
#religion
#fiction
#mythology
290 reads
2 Comments
My Fictional World
It was just a regular day.
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
#fiction
#motivational
#uplifting
35 reads
0 Comments
My Fictional World
It was just a regular day.
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
#fiction
#motivational
#uplifting
35 reads
0 Comments
My Fictional World
It was just a regular day.
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
My imagination was ready and astray.
I then grabbed my pen.
I filled it with magic and ink.
I took some paper and began to think.
I wrote down a happy,ever after.
With the future I am after.
The romances I had made popped out of the paper.
And I didn't have to worry about later.
I wrote down a beautiful nymph.
And she began to sing her song to me.
I wrote down a happy future ,too.
In the back of the car,with the man of my dreams.
And soon,it came true.
With magic,I made it...
#fiction
#motivational
#uplifting
35 reads
0 Comments
Pelion
Where once the proud towers stood
There stood at length and at last
Only ruin
Here and there remained somewhat
Stone on stone
Weathered more than worn
Turned dark and green by moss and stain
And damp
As if memory still sorrowed here
Alone
When all else lay forgot
Yet
So elemental
The stillness itself was imbued
With the power to evoke
That which words could not put to name
And feelings alone disclose
What piercing eye can glance to see
What lies beyond all distance
Indeed ...
There stood at length and at last
Only ruin
Here and there remained somewhat
Stone on stone
Weathered more than worn
Turned dark and green by moss and stain
And damp
As if memory still sorrowed here
Alone
When all else lay forgot
Yet
So elemental
The stillness itself was imbued
With the power to evoke
That which words could not put to name
And feelings alone disclose
What piercing eye can glance to see
What lies beyond all distance
Indeed ...
#fiction
385 reads
4 Comments
A Grandmother
A Grandmother
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
#aging
#prose
#fiction
596 reads
4 Comments
A Grandmother
A Grandmother
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
#aging
#prose
#fiction
596 reads
4 Comments
A Grandmother
A Grandmother
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
#aging
#prose
#fiction
596 reads
4 Comments
Antisocial
I like to be around you for about 24 to 48 hours and then I get sick of you
I don't like it when you tell me that you like me and want to spend more time with me
I keep my distance
On a certain level, you make me sick
Even your smell repels me
You see how I am on the third day
I don't want to know anything about your life
I like the girls the others don't touch
The ones that get called stupid
They're not as stupid as you might think
They know me
They know I'm a loner
They know why I come around
They know I'm only good for one...
I don't like it when you tell me that you like me and want to spend more time with me
I keep my distance
On a certain level, you make me sick
Even your smell repels me
You see how I am on the third day
I don't want to know anything about your life
I like the girls the others don't touch
The ones that get called stupid
They're not as stupid as you might think
They know me
They know I'm a loner
They know why I come around
They know I'm only good for one...
#apathy
#fiction
#loneliness
#sex
#ShortStory
66 reads
4 Comments
Antisocial
I like to be around you for about 24 to 48 hours and then I get sick of you
I don't like it when you tell me that you like me and want to spend more time with me
I keep my distance
On a certain level, you make me sick
Even your smell repels me
You see how I am on the third day
I don't want to know anything about your life
I like the girls the others don't touch
The ones that get called stupid
They're not as stupid as you might think
They know me
They know I'm a loner
They know why I come around
They know I'm only good for one...
I don't like it when you tell me that you like me and want to spend more time with me
I keep my distance
On a certain level, you make me sick
Even your smell repels me
You see how I am on the third day
I don't want to know anything about your life
I like the girls the others don't touch
The ones that get called stupid
They're not as stupid as you might think
They know me
They know I'm a loner
They know why I come around
They know I'm only good for one...
#apathy
#fiction
#loneliness
#sex
#ShortStory
66 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Fiction Published by Members Recently Online Poems