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renseksderf Sep 22
Between wave and return  
       the salt grew heavier in my hands.

Foam thinned to threads,  
       knots glinting in the shallows.

Still wet with the reading,  
       I leaned toward the loom.
Elo Franklyn Sep 19
So, I wrote a book, a novel so long,
One hundred and sixty K words.
My heroine’s fierce, immortal, and strong,
Hates humans so much that it hurts.

5000 years old, and Aria's done!
Wants to kick the bucket - just die!
Living forever has long lost its fun,
She’s worn of the ancient lie.

With stress piled up, she goes to a shrink,
And rants for an hour straight.
She paces his office, sour, on the brink,
Mood split between rage and hate.

But Jacob (the shrink) believes her somehow,
A miracle, strange and new!
So off they journey together now
To an oracle - their only clue.

The oracle whispers the cure is found
Within "The Book Of Life,"
They learn it’s kept on sacred ground,
Guarded by a nun with a knife.

The book reveals there’s a curse to reverse,
And relics they’ll need to find.
But things keep sliding from odd to worse,
And Jacob unsettles her mind...

The pile of artifacts grows quite insane,
New travelers join the group.
They share the laughter and the pain;
All over dried noodle soup.

Jacob falls first, and he falls hard,
Knowing there’s no real chance:
Aria’s immortal, he is scarred,
And his shyness blocks the romance.

Will she fall as well, or keep up the wall?
And will she go through with the curse?
Will she go on and end it all?
Would it be better or worse?

If this teaser worked and you’re on the hook,
It would mean a lot to me,
If you’d take a look at my snarling book:
Named "How to End Eternity."

The book brings romance that sneaks up slow,
Adventure in every scene,
People from a long time ago,
And more for the in-between:

Action ignites, with relics and quests,
The secrets of archaeology.
No **** - the scenes in locked up chests,
But humor - I guarantee!

And best of all: it’s free to read,
No cost, no, nothing to pay.
Just send a DM, I’ll take the lead,
And send the link your way.
HA!
Yes, I wrote a poem about a book I also wrote.
Shameless self-promo!

Okay, a tad bit of shame, but hey - I'm honestly proud of that book!
{ “Awareness : He began to decipher the instant that he was living, deciphering as he lived it, prophesying himself in the act of deciphering the last page of the parchments, as if he were looking into a speaking mirror.” -
Gabriel Garcia Marques }

_____


Mirrors of Mercury

Who is Shams and who Rumi                                                          
is­ like asking who is fork and who
knife when apart they sing not
a single song to nourish blood
with versal love

mercurial reflect                                    
                     ­                                                                 ­                
Who is mirror and who reflection                                            
Is that me ? I ask you                                                              ­        
watching your slender bones                                                
move in soiled leather boots                                                            ­  
wild slow eyes reflecting YES !                                              
when maiden across the room                                              
gives wicked laughs of NO !  

mercurial translate                                                        ­
                                                                ­                                      
Who is this dissident beret
alongside the chair ?                            
Is it self ahead on a future road .....                                                  
will someone stroke my back                                                        
give ear, lip or cheek                                                            ­                      
urging body to be young in                                                  
takkies and snazzy jacket ?  

mercurial question goals

Aah ! Poetic Mirrors !
inking reciting assessing                                                        ­      
give respite from a million
images of Self  as I circle an
unveiled Flow of Fate                                              
fully awake to naked                                                            ­          
poet

mercurial observe
catalytic soul


Copyright © Ghairo Daniels | 2017
K Letters Sep 10
famished and parched

It longs for satisfaction

fed on words to fill up an empty stomach

poured letters into my cup

however, no matter how much I consume, only led to further desire

am I forever indebted?

indebted to interminable hunger
I wrote this during a sad time when I turned to reading and writing to heal. But no matter how much I consumed or created, it couldn't fill the black hole I felt through my whole body. It was as if I was longing for something I couldn't name.
K Letters Sep 10
What if this is my deathbed?

Surrounded by collected parchment

From old to new

Smell of burnt tobacco and aged paper

Toxins in the air you breath into

“Yesterday” by the Beatles playing in the background

A woman talking to about her husbands affair with the store owner

Reading poetry on the old wooden floor
I wrote this poem during a period of sadness. It’s about the warm comfort I found in a bookstore. The mix scent of paper and tobacco was like a huge hug to the soul. The background chatter and music was very soothing, and I wished to just sit on the floor and read forever. Thank you for reading.
girlinflames Aug 25
It’s hard for me
to read good books—
the kind that pull me in,
where I live inside the characters’ lives.

I begin to become the story,
and then, suddenly,
the urge to write bursts open in me.

Ideas tumble over each other,
and I rush to my notes app
to catch every drop of inspiration
before it slips away.

A book I could read in an hour
stretches into days,
because reading
always makes me want to write.
CantSeeMe Aug 8
death in books
it changes my mood
maybe even
how I look

it reads like it's real
I just wanted you to heal…

these days
I've watched you die
though we didn’t even say
goodbye

but did we
ever say hello?
I'm sure you did
but I think
mine didn't fit

I've watched you die
on the couch
you didn't know me
you couldn't even see
someone was there
right next to you
listening free

I've watched you die
my eyes went crazy
always thought I was shady

don't trust me

I spy on you
never talk
only stalk
read your mind
so I could find
a great light
something bright

empathy
for you

they say it was right there
where you've died
on the other side
but I know

I've watched you die
on the couch

all I have of you
are words
letters
together
in chapters

I've watched you die
but you still exist
Don't you?
your name holds a story
you don't have to worry
I remember
I remember...

Sammie McCoy died of illness: het geheugenboek by Lara Avery

Annie killed: meisje vermist gevonden by Stefanie Sybens

Megan Harris car accident, hit by car: hou me niet vast by Wanne Synnave

Parker Bennet suicide: hou me niet vast by Wanne Synnave

Madame Manec natural death: all the light we cannot see by Anthony Doerr

Werner Pfennig stepped on bomb: all the light we cannot see by Anthony Doerr

Sall Sigh killed: a good girl's guide to ****** by Holly Jackson

Andie Bell choked on *****: a good girl's guide to ****** by Holly Jackson

Bianca Di Angelo sacrificed: the titan curse by Rick Riordan

Zoe nightshade: the titan curse by Rick Riordan

Luke Castellan sacrificed: the last olympian by Rick Riordan

Jason Grace sacrificed: the burning maze by Rick Riordan

Stanley Forbes/Jack Brunswick killed: good girl, bad blood by Holly Jackson

Rue Brownlow sacrificed: the hunger games by Suzanne Collins

Augustus Waters died of cancer :The fault in our stars by John Green

Jason Bell killed: as sweet as the death by Holy Jackson
So Jul 30
I read books again and again,
the characters comfort me
as we grow close over time
their actions predictable
their thoughts always positive
their attitude unbeatable

I read books again and again,
I'm not afraid to say
that I love these people
imprinted on the page,
My time is spent
choosing to continue our journey
a decision they can not make themselves

For my friends in these words
they do not know me or know of me
that I observe them
commenting on their world
which I myself will never get to live in,
Even so with them as my vessel
I do try my best
by reading my books again and again.
neth jones Jul 29
a harmful charm                               
an armed risk to the head
a villainous thing . . . a book                         
i puruse the shelves of Alexandria
i wanna read something mad  loose  and youth
       willing  and ego  and naturally skilled
something that hasn't been                
                                      untaught to behave
i'm in need of a black market guide
         and a really tall ladder
i have a desperate need            
       to trigger a brain reaction
- taken from SHORTS III. original version 11/24
CE Uptain Jul 25
Checking on my progress, I’m halfway home
Still enough pages to let my mind roam
I can bounce around, the subject won’t matter
Read between the lines, I’m as mad as a hatter
Oh well, this one will take up another page
I’m taking a break from my regular rage
This is a follow-up to My New Pad I posted a few days ago. Thanks for following along.
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