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Literature Text
and when I talk
ink splattering in galaxy patterns
across arid parchment
lost in that last
star system
to the left
music flows
from between the spheres
leaving crystals
in its wake
sparkles of ideas
and twinkles of
another world
entirely
ink splattering in galaxy patterns
across arid parchment
lost in that last
star system
to the left
music flows
from between the spheres
leaving crystals
in its wake
sparkles of ideas
and twinkles of
another world
entirely
Literature
Different Feet
Big paws little paws. Talons galore. Webbed feet no feet. On their belly goes. Some have toes others hooves. Every version unique as can be. Allows the creature to move freely. So cherish each.
Literature
The Growing Trainer Pt. 4 (Comm)
The Pewter City Museum of Science’s interior was elegant enough to be mistaken for an art gallery, if it wasn’t for the fossils of prehistoric Pokemon on display behind the red velvet ropes. Arched alcoves lined the walls, each occupied by potted plants and geological specimens from Mt. Moon. Stately windows rose the length of the walls, overlooking the wilds beyond the city limits. A few patrons wandered about, some looking at the displays and others in muted conversation with their companions. Lyra felt slightly out of place amid it all, but one look at Ethan told her she was more at home than he was. The thought gave her comfort. “Come on,” she said, taking Ethan by the hand and pulling him past the front desk and toward the breezeway that would lead to the restaurant. “I’m hungry, you know!” “I am, too, but that doesn’t mean we need to rush. I’m sure the museum doesn’t allow running in the halls, Lyra.” “Stop making up excuses. This isn’t school anymore, Ethan.” “E-Excuses?
Literature
cnoc cnoc
Upon a green monadnock ‘Neath schizophrenic weather Is in my mind aye-padlocked Midst queries of time’s ledger Soggy fries made memories Quiche of a chilly nature Tortellini treasuries? Nah, cake was best I’d wager Raindrops like small sunrises Weaving down beaten walkways Fences, sunburn, surprises Goose bumps find their feet ablaze Pages of a chapter-book Ink made from broken hemlock Spilled in joy that overtook Upon a green monadnock
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The-Poetry-Cafe 100 theme challenge "Introduction"
Much better than writing what I really had in my head: Sympathy for the Devil
Much better than writing what I really had in my head: Sympathy for the Devil
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