Pins and Needles

Pins and Needles

Image Courtesy: amarkedman.com

Your words are pins and needles.

Prying me apart and trying to sew me together.

Your words are weapons,

And you use them without thinking.

Your words are hate speech,

I tell you I was born this way.

Your words tear me down:

But I love you anyway.

The Plant

Plant After Rain by John French

Picture Taken By: John French

Wet after rain,

Like laughter in the morning.

Growing freely,

Like American rights.

Fresh soil,

Like coffee in the evening.

 Toiling relentlessly,

Like love’s pursuit.

The Song

guitar by lucas boesche

Picture Taken By: Lucas Boesche Image Courtesy: unsplash.com

They’ve told me about miracles,

Told me they  couldn’t be found in lyrics.

But I beg to differ.

Songs can take you high,

They get stuck in your head before waving goodbye.

Working their magic they go from your head

To your feet and stay with you ’til bed.

Songs work in every situation,

Even in one of desperation.

Run It

Sarah Magnolia:

Interesting thought. Hope it inspires you!

Originally posted on Freedom 4 Eternity:

Run to get through Friday – the weekend is the only trophy you need!!

View original

Fateful Destiny

Fate is

Ugly and hideous.

Spinning while conspiring and desolating.

Shifting into hell then heaven and Elysium.

Amazing, insightful it’s a worthy vocation.

Beautiful and dazzling

I call it: Destiny.

*Special thanks to G.C. who gave me a prompt.

Weekly Tip: Week 10: Through Different Eyes

globe 3

Try for a different perspective.  Today (and this week) try to look at the world differently, at people differently.  Put on glasses of humility, of acceptance.

The Heat

Palm Trees by Florian Klauer

Picture Taken By: Florian Klauer Image Courtesy: unsplash.com

The blessed heat

Chases after me.

If I so much as miss a beat

It stings me like a bee.

The chilled water

Climbs up my legs.

Running from the sun gets harder

And the heat won’t let up – even if I beg.

Top of the World

City View by Bjorn Simon

Picture Taken By: Bjorn Simon Image Courtesy: unsplash.com

He took my hand and told me

That he would take me to the top of the world.

We walked to the top of the building

And he said if I looked I would be on the top of the world.

He was right.

I looked and felt like I was flying.

But I didn’t look at the city -

I looked at him.

 

Beautiful Death

the rolling hills by aleksandra boguslawska

Picture Taken By: Aleksandra Boguslawska Image Courtesy: unsplash.com

These hills cry out in despair.

The skies rain down war

And clouds try to blanket the pain,

But they cannot.

I’ve seen these pathway many times,

I’ve heard the wind in the hills.

I try to frown,

But I cannot.

In the midst of death

I see nothing but beauty -

And even if my mind tells me to give up,

I will not.

The Typewriter

Typewriter by S. Zolkin

Picture Taken By: S. Zolkin Image Courtesy: unsplash.com

The keys stuck,

And the ink was all a muck.

Grandmother had taught me well

And taught me how to spell.

Words became phrases

Which soon became cognitive sentences.

This old typewriter

Taught me to test the water.

It’s the reason why I write,

And the reason I live life.

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