

Something so hiddensomething so hidden you may never find lost beyond words and left beyond mind something so simple, yet more than you know much stranger than fiction, much bigger than loveSomething so hidden
something so hidden might never be seen left in the rhytm, the things inbetween in the middle somewhere you may find it and see that something, that somehow you need to be free
perhaps it is life, yet it seems to be more,
perhaps it's the question of what was before yet you know deep inside that it's simpler than this it's no more and no less than a wonderful wish
but a wish can be


The pale silver moonThe pale silver moon in the dusty grey sky, the day also dying as autumn comes by The withering leaves, the most beautuiful death as king Winter awakens with snowfall instead of flowers of spring and of summer alike, the dawn of the year has been left in a dike and of this we may speak in a tone soft as feather when the wind blows its wisdom all into the weatherThe pale silver moon
The pale silver moon in the starlit new night, the even star shining uneasily bright, a snowy new landscape of doom and despair, but also of joy as the christmas is near where the gifts come along and the w


The word-wiperCalling him the word-wiper seemed completely wrong, though it was the right description. He earned his living looking through the pages of that great eternal book called destiny, living in shadows, but the happiest kind and there he wiped away words and put in new. Not with all the words of course, but with those words that stopped being of importance. Destiny is a fragile thing, you know and things change. Like with Cynthia Polkin.The word-wiper
Cynthia was a strict and organized woman who fit the stereotype of a stern teacher to a tie, never being far away from her book of seemingly unending quantities of rules. She called this book simply


Toilet HumourThere is something to be said for graffiti found in toilet cubicles. And I mean real toilet graffiti, not just the uninspired tags that rebellious teenagers scribble across walls. Real graffiti that has absolutely no artistic merit (that stuff is saved for the bus interchanges), and is usually witty. Mostly wryly-observed commentary about today’s social standards.Toilet Humour
That, or toilet humour. But it’s understandable.
To tell you the truth, though, I think graffiti has been going downhill since the ’80s. Oh, sure, street art has flourished, but it seems nowadays that people are quite happy to bitch about the world’


Poison Apple Book PreviewTHE POLICYPoison Apple Book Preview
Liam T. Dredd and Diaphanous Haze Were married in not unusual ways. They booked a cathedral, they made their vows, Bought as much insurance as the state allows.
He called her Daffi, She called him Lee, He wrote out their wills, she made them some tea.
"I'll sign the papers if you will," she said. "A million if either of us drops dead."
"I have a confession, my dear," said he. "Counting the others, you're Wife Number Three. "My dear exes were strangled, drowned and shot, They left me quite lonely, but left me a lot."
"How sad!"
--
~Falsehood is easy, truth so difficult - George Eliot~
~Believe only what you yourself test and judge to be true - Buddha~
My Gallery - [link]
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
Thank you so much for the fav! :]
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