seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Singapore
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seen from United States
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Am I content with the story so far? No. Is it going where I want it to go? Right now, I have no idea. Am I happy I'm getting it written down? Absolutely.
We, as writers, as creators, should not beat ourselves over whether we're writing or not, whether what we produce will be perfect or not.
We'll get there.
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From the Shoals
she, a placid sea of smiles,
a tincture to soothe his distress
with restorative moonstone eyes
the hue of a frosted moon
in milky highlights
yet tempests corrugate
her shimmering textures
liquid skin trembles
far beneath this sedate surface
a turbulent passion,
a movement of flowing tentacles,
multi-colored sea anemone
brush the sea floor
stirring pebbles in the undertow
as ossified diamonds
his lips tingle at the ripples
released from her long-awaited sigh
he feels each seismic vibration
like a tuning fork held close
to her heart's palpitations
translating their varied tempos
he steps Into the shoals
toward her undertows
hand held out to brace
the unsteadiness, then words
break open in sea spray
she hesitates, lingers long,
soaking in his confession
pulling him from the shallows
towards the depths
of her harlequin heart
Rhapsodyinblue45
Image: Cheryl Walsh
Me getting a new WIP idea: Am I not suffering enough?
Alternatively me diving head on into it:
My brain whenever I get some writing done:
Do I go with "This character is magic because of this important reason" or "this character is magic because I, the writer, say they are"????
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The relationship between the bard and the warrior in this WIP of mine is gonna be my favorite thing to write tbh
Original poem written by Rhapsody
Audio and music by Boardwalk-Poet
Music Credit: Sous le ciel de Paris - French cafe
music
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Expatriates
"I don't mind getting wet. Paris is the most beautiful in the rain."
-Midnight in Paris
stroll the Seine with me
on apple crisp autumn nights
our fingers exhaling confessions
of billowing blue smoke
partitioning time at midnight
to eras of an illustrious past
where we rakishly descend
winding gas lit streets of mystery
my heeled shoes clicking
the threshold of a sleek bob
and feathered ragtime
let me devour the ink-stained pages
of your leather bound book
the one suspended from dreams
write your history upon
my unblemished hands
that I could trace their rivers
through my heartbeat and breathe
the depths of your
self-imposed sadness
taste the absinthe of Parisian bars
drunk from greedy lips
smell your wanderlust
engrained in a stoic beard
let's tickle the evening
with hypothetical twists
of you and me beneath
a wafer of a moon
slender enough to drop
a coin into
and play Gershwin tunes
til the stride in my hips
collapses upon lavender sheets
asleep within the silks
of a then
when you and I were
timelessly young
decadent and foolish
in our insatiable lust
to devour nostalgia
as darkest chocolate
drowned in cream
