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mythie Jan 2018
In this day and age.
We're all pressured to write something original.

But with every piece of art in this world.
Every single thing being written.

We're inspired by different things.
Isn't everything fan-fiction?
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
The floor beneath me crumbles away.
The picture that you've drawn dissolves.
I used to take the words you said to me on faith.
My sacrilege was in knowing,
But loving you this long.

The sparkles in your eyes ignite me;
Reflections of your teary eyes.
You can take the words I say on faith.
Enough now of this heresy.
I've loved you for too long.

What was a singularity
Began to walk in single file.
Now agents of your faithless heart
Fall to the heaping pile.

You came to me as someone
I would give my life to serve

But the way that you are now
Means my whole world has changed
I don't know
If it's better or it's worse
I only know
That it's real.

Your regal words designed a world
That was fitting to my foolish heart.
I thought that you worked magic but it was illusion.
My blasphemy was in knowing
And still loving you this long.

The tender nature of your lie enticed me.
I put my faith in it.
I gave my life to you.
I gave, gave you all,
My all is true;
And lie is all you do
My blasphemy was seeing it,
And letting it continue.

At first it was a trickle,
But it became a stream.
Now the riverbanks erode,
Washed out in your flood.

You came to me as someone
I would give my life to serve

But the way that you are now
Means my whole world has changed
I don't know
If it's better or it's worse
I only know
That it's real

Not just a lie,
Not just a scheme,
It is exactly as it seems.

I don't know
If it's better or it's worse.
I only know
That it's real.

Here on this street, you try talk to me;
I don't want to hear it,
There is nothing more you have for me.
Watch me get smaller down the street,
So I don't have to hear
Another word of your fantasy.
I started singing a random phrase in the shower, the refrain, and decided to turn it into a song.
Lyn-Purcell Jan 2018
Bask in your originality
for all the world
to see.
Be who? Be you.
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.

I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.

There was a time
We did not know.
There was a time
We let the music go
Without ambition;
Without guidance to flow,
And it rocked right out of our soul.

I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.

I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.

There was a time
We forgot to see
Where it comes from;
Love for you and me.
We let it run
Too wild and free
Cause rock and roll
Just had to be.

There was a time
We gave it all away
Without surrender
And we did not save
There came a time
The account was raked;
Thank God in time
We discoved grace

I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.

I love to be in love,
I love to be in love,
I love to be in love with you.
Another song. I haven't set it to music, yet.
It isn't a love song. It is really about how music should come from the soul. At some point, music seemed to come from the ego. That's when it suffers the most.
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
From the soul backed to the precipice of a life never changing,
Through the crest of an almond shape and cascading over an apple fullness,
Fall the tiny tributes of hopelessness;
Until she is offered
Tulips for her tears.
I have been working on a romance novel, which was going to be heavily focussed on a location, as was Casablanca or Streetcar name Desire. I decided to focuss the romance more on the characters. In delving into the creative process I discovered that a passion for love does not make them weak or sappy. It makes them human.
I am considering the above brief poem as a blurb for the back cover.
My business model is to have five novel length pieces off work before publication or agent submission.
Typically, I write suspense or horror. What could be more suspensful or terrifying than waiting for love or fear of living without it, or how to live once it has found you at long last.
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
Can I take out a loan on your heart?
My credit is good
And I won't equifax it.
I won't rip it apart.
A piece of brief poetry. Hope you like it.
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
Dudley does to Pauline,
He does her right.
Dudley does to Pauline
Day and night.
Dudley does to Pauline
Til he hits the floor.
Dudley does to Pauline
Til he can't anymore

Dudley, Dudley, Dudley
Dudley Do-right.

Dudley never meant
To make a mess.
Dudley never asked Pauline
To wear that dress.
Dudley never needed
To hear her groan.
Dudley would have offered
To drive her home.

Dudley, Dudley, Dudley
Dudley do-right.

Dudley gets the mop
And a soapy pail.
Dudley wouldn't like
To go to jail.
Dudley is relieved
There's no-one to tell.
Dudley is so sweet,
Who'd believe the tale?

Dudley, Dudley, Dudley
Dudley Do-right.
This is a punk song I am working up loosely inspired by the song, "Johnny Hit and Run Pauline."
Of course, I took it to a darker level.
Cecil Miller Jan 2018
Slow tempo

(CM)
You'll dream about the love you give up.(Em)

(CM
You'll wonder why you have an empty cup. (Em)

(Am)                 (F)
You'll feel the fire;
(Am)                 (F)
You'll feel the fire
(F#) (Cm) (Em)
Of loniness -


You'll see visions like saphires in the night.

You won't be able to sleep though the night.

You'll know the cold,

You'll know the cold

Of loneliness -


I should have gotten myself away from you.

I shouldn't have given of myself to you.

You'll feel the fire;

You'll feel the fire

Of loneliness -
I wrote this on my accoustic guitar in December. It is coffee house blues.
Brandi Jan 2018
Destiny maketh me to lie down in sullied pastures
and shows me in an instant what is mine.
I am mother of my will, steward of my nature.
I embrace the children born of the seed of my misgivings.

Inherent nature calls for us to mourn
a child of woe, born in Eden's harem
she is wandering.  The taste of fruit still lingers
on her tongue as she is blessed, and passes through
the garden pleasure's widow.

So man may know the breadth of immorality
God hath given what I am to none but I.
And for you, oh child of nature,
naiveté of man, I will tell of all the
truths you've yet to know.

I am the sole proprietor of love's embittered light.
Suitor's move to choose me in a smooth unfettered sweep,
a lily plucked from dewy beds of beauty.

Among thieves I am the memory of prelapsarian song,
of how it was before we were the way we are.
The gaiety of goodness, weightlessness of night,
are wrought too plainly now to be mistaken...

those days are gone--and I,
an unlikely proctor for the movement of the age,
will stand alone.
Caroline Roche Dec 2017
Your sentences were gated,
And locked within your lungs -
Your words forbidden fruit to me,
The apple of your tongue.
The uninspired oft’ find it hard
To leave another’s song unsung.

So I harvested your phrases -
I burglarized your breath,
And nurtured all your laden words
‘Till there was nothing left.

And living with your hollowed words,
I died a stolen death.
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