the sun shines through, those holes of darkness,
the clouds go by, in blissful sight.
The angel's melody, leaks through the sky,
creating blissful and beautiful rays.
the humans below, look up in wonder,
at the heavenly sight, that has been created.
awe-struck and mesmerized, their eyes have glazed over.
they think they see god, but do they?
the darkness comes back, covering the beauty.
the people come out of their haze.
the melody stops, no longer seeping through,
the sunshine fades away.
Be thy mind free? Or bindest thou it with fetters which be heavy with the ideas of men and burdened conscience? Hast thou knowledge of true liberty and that joy which she doth so sweetly carry into the soul that seeketh in earnest?
Arise, and taste the breeze of a new day! May fresh be in thy nostrils the aroma of sunlight and pleasant be the song of birds in flight as the sun in splendour doth sleepily emerge from his slumber.
Exchange not thy hold upon thy dreams for that of what the world may without wisdom christen 'practical' and 'real.' In folly she glances with scorn upon what the unbound pursue. She gropes in blindness, and stumbles
Little Sally had a problem. Little Sally always had dirty feet. Her mother would clean them and clean them and clean them, but Little Sally would just go and get them dirty again. Her mother was a very clean person and always worried about her daughter. She could not understand why Little Sally always had such dirty feet. Why, she herself had come from a long line of clean people who would not have tolerated such dirty feet in the house. She must have gotten the genes from her father's side; Little Sally's mother would think to herself. Meanwhile, she would watch in agony as Little Sally would once again bring dirty feet into her spotlessly c
Heartbroken
A girl who is suffering from a broken heart is easily spotted. There are frequent fits of tears, temper tantrums and an inability to sleep straight through the night. She can be prone to fits of melodrama, often accusing male friends of atrocities and pinning blame wherever she can. I showed all those symptoms earlier than most. My Mother often thought I looked a little blue.
After I had my second birthday the lady doctor who knew me from birth had left, leaving my future in the hands of a new doctor. He had a jar of sweeties on the desk, and promised me one if I was a good girl. I lifted my shirt obediently whilst focused
On the top of the hill he stands, across burning villages and torn forests, dry rivers and black seas, and he watches, indifferently, coldly; while the world's heart blows its last whispers in a flaming cloud.
Slowly he climbs down the hill and turns his face up, towards the sky, red, scarlet in His rage.
He falls on his knees and cries. Cries for the men. Cries for the women. Cries for the children. Cries for the Earth.
And then he rises, and he walks. Blood dripping from his hands. There's no more hope. There's no more reason. There is no more sanity. He just walks.
Music is my heartbeat. Without it my heart would stop beating, and i would love no more.
~~~
Art is my mind. Without it my mind would be empty. I'd be expressionless.
If both of these died, so would i.
~~~
Music is my heart, Art is my mind.
September 11, 2001
~This Moment~
Life as we know it has changed.
No longer are we a society of quiet souls.
We have been violated.
We must fight back.
How to regain our control?
Some say fight, some say faith.
Others say nothing.
Tears, bitterness, shock and anger litter our minds
And take over our souls.
All I can think about is this moment.
At this moment:
Several people are crying, hoping their family and friends will be found.
Many are mourning the losses they cannot begin to explain.
A mother is bittersweet with the birth of her new child and the loss of her husband.
Hero's are being lauded for taking down a terrorist p
She sits by the river, awaiting her love,
off in the distance, she hears a sound...
Thinking it is he, She walks toward it,
before her eyes appears, the stallion.
She walks slowly toward him, hand outstretched,
he balks...backs into the tree lined bank as if to run.
She drops her hand, and sits upon the bank,
awed by his sheer beauty.
She gazes into the water and sees her reflection
A moment passes and the stallions graceful
head appears next to hers.
She feels a slight knuzzle on her arm, she raises her
head and looks deep into his blue eyes.
He places his head into her palm
With just one look the Lady Shay had
capture
Pulling the knife out of his pocket
And closer to his face
He admires his reflection
As the light glimmers off of the blade
Tugging eagerly at his scruffy shirt
To reveal healing cuts crawling up his arm
He had done this before
With no hesitation
He pierces his flesh with the tip of the blade
Warm liquid blood escapes his fresh wound
Hissing briefly at the pain as he deepens the blade
A change of emotion runs through him
As he throws his head back moaning into the pain
Waiting to be taken into his fantasy slumber
Slowly losing consciousness, under the light of moon
The Widow and Dame Fortune by Rubyjeans, literature
Literature
The Widow and Dame Fortune
A young widow, having just left her husbands grave, was overcome by grief as she walked and thus became lost in a forest nearby. Alone with her thoughts she grew angry at the death Fortune had given her husband so early on in life and cried out, ''Must thou be so cruel as to take innocent lives as easily as plucking a daisy from the earth?''. Upon her shout, Dame Fortune appeared to speak with the lady.
''If you believe me to be cruel then how must you feel about yourself?'', and vanished as suddenly as she came, leaving behind her a beautiful, black daisy. The widow looked with wonder upon the daisy and was so enchanted by it's b