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Abi_J
Many Questions. No Answers.
Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Tree

Water from earth, earth from sky.

I sit silently still as the days pass by.

I am so tired, but I don't stop.

I won't drop or sink slowly down, down, down,

To lie here, on the dank cold ground.

What is it about space,

That lonely place above,

That draws us in, it occupies our dreams,

Much like elusive true love.

Starry blanket, grassy bed,

With no pillow on which to rest my head.

I stand tall, arms lifted high,

My spirit naked and raw to the passerby.

Wilted laurels encircle my head,

And my rotten wood heart is almost dead.

The envy of Rome with emerald hue,

That's right, I'm watching you.

My roots reach deep, down into time,

I remember when all this land used to be mine.

People used to care for me,

To honor my life,

Over small broken twigs the caused great strife.

I know what happened,

Modern life is what,

You rarely notice me,

Rarely look up.

You don't see the fungus that grows

A festering sore on my grey barky skin.

You think me beautiful and pure, devoid of sin.

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7 reads
Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Tree
Water from earth, earth from sky.
I sit silently still as the days pass by.
I am so tired, but I don't stop.
I won't drop or sink slowly down, down, down,
To lie here, on the dank cold ground.
What is it about space,
That lonely place above,
That draws us in, it occupies our dreams,
Much like elusive true love.
Starry blanket, grassy bed,
With no pillow on which to rest my head.
I stand tall, arms lifted high,
My spirit naked and raw to the passerby.
Wilted laurels encircle my head,
And my rotten wood heart is almost dead.
The envy of Rome with emerald hue,
That's right, I'm watching you.
My roots reach deep, down into time,
I remember when all this land used to be mine.
People used to care for me,
To honor my life,
Over small broken twigs the caused great strife.
I know what happened,
Modern life is what,
You rarely notice me,
Rarely look up.
You don't see the fungus that grows
A festering sore on my grey barky skin.
You think me beautiful and pure, devoid of sin.
4
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7 reads
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Challenge of the Week #55: Write a story of 200 words or more about a stranger. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $200. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Abi_J

The Man in the Soup Kitchen

I see them walk into the door,

They look stressed.

He shuffles across the floor,

Ill dressed,

For the weather and cold.

I've never met him before,

"Here would you like some warm soup to hold?"

"Yes, I would like that," he stutters,

And maybe, "could I have a little bit more?"

"Why yes of course," I look up at his face,

And see a glimmer of thanks,

 before he again becomes shuttered.

He bows his head, and moves along.

At the end of the cafeteria hall,

One slurred voice begins a short song,

And who but the old man might it be,

Stands singing with the stubble of a few days,

I'd guess three.

He raises his voice, 

Disturbing the peace,

A woman rushes in,

She whispers, "quick, calm him."

So I walk up to that stranger,

At the end of the hall,

He sees me approach,

And over his face falls a pall.

Maybe of fear, maybe regret,

But he knows nothing yet.

I did not come to chide or to scream,

Simply to ask if he might sit down,

I'm not what I seem.

And neither is he, 

That little old man,

The one with the voice,

And soup in his hand.

One chance meeting,

That's all that it took,

So be nice to strangers,

For when you are forsook,

And no one will take you,

Not even your books.

Remember, the man that you helped,

Maybe last December.

One day he might help you,

The tables will turn,

Only though if you remember,

What you just learned.

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5 reads
Challenge of the Week #55: Write a story of 200 words or more about a stranger. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $200. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Abi_J
The Man in the Soup Kitchen
I see them walk into the door,
They look stressed.
He shuffles across the floor,
Ill dressed,
For the weather and cold.
I've never met him before,
"Here would you like some warm soup to hold?"
"Yes, I would like that," he stutters,
And maybe, "could I have a little bit more?"
"Why yes of course," I look up at his face,
And see a glimmer of thanks,
 before he again becomes shuttered.
He bows his head, and moves along.
At the end of the cafeteria hall,
One slurred voice begins a short song,
And who but the old man might it be,
Stands singing with the stubble of a few days,
I'd guess three.
He raises his voice, 
Disturbing the peace,
A woman rushes in,
She whispers, "quick, calm him."
So I walk up to that stranger,
At the end of the hall,
He sees me approach,
And over his face falls a pall.
Maybe of fear, maybe regret,
But he knows nothing yet.
I did not come to chide or to scream,
Simply to ask if he might sit down,
I'm not what I seem.
And neither is he, 
That little old man,
The one with the voice,
And soup in his hand.
One chance meeting,
That's all that it took,
So be nice to strangers,
For when you are forsook,
And no one will take you,
Not even your books.
Remember, the man that you helped,
Maybe last December.
One day he might help you,
The tables will turn,
Only though if you remember,
What you just learned.
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Written by Abi_J in portal History

WWI Photos

What is it with us,

Interested only in what truly disgusts.

We look at photos of war,

The gurgling gassed man,

And his peeling bloody hands.

What is it with us,

Filled with chatter, superfluous.

We hate the battle,

but as it repels,

we see a fizzling bomb shell.

What is it with us,

As our legs forward thrust.

What whispers inside to take a look closer,

We look away,

But even still our curiosity urges us to stay.

Why do we run,

Why do we hide,

When will this darkness inside

Take away all that is good,

And thrust us behind another gas mask hood.

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6 reads
Written by Abi_J in portal History
WWI Photos
What is it with us,
Interested only in what truly disgusts.
We look at photos of war,
The gurgling gassed man,
And his peeling bloody hands.

What is it with us,
Filled with chatter, superfluous.
We hate the battle,
but as it repels,
we see a fizzling bomb shell.

What is it with us,
As our legs forward thrust.
What whispers inside to take a look closer,
We look away,
But even still our curiosity urges us to stay.

Why do we run,
Why do we hide,
When will this darkness inside
Take away all that is good,
And thrust us behind another gas mask hood.
3
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6 reads
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I'm giving away $500.00 cash to the most unique entry.. Happy Holidays and Good Luck
Written by Abi_J

The Evil Black Sheep with Red Laser Eyes

I open my groggy eyes, and I am lying on my back on peaty ground surrounded in reed grasses. My toes are a little sore... OH YEAH, that's why. Last night, I was sitting on my bed talking to my friend and then out of nowhere, these evil black sheep with red laser eyes appeared and chased me from my room. Of course I ran, they were creepy, and once I got outside I was able to spread my arms and fly from them. I remember the sheep chasing me until my arms got too tired from flapping so I had to land in this swamp. The sheep found me, and one sat on me to hold me down while the others chewed on my toes. It doesn't really hurt, but their teeth are like little needles sticking into my feet. I just sort of laid there, and then I fell asleep. I wake up now on my back, the sheep gone, and my toes sore. Of course, I have to walk home because for some weird reason I can only fly on starry nights. 

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I'm giving away $500.00 cash to the most unique entry.. Happy Holidays and Good Luck
Written by Abi_J
The Evil Black Sheep with Red Laser Eyes
I open my groggy eyes, and I am lying on my back on peaty ground surrounded in reed grasses. My toes are a little sore... OH YEAH, that's why. Last night, I was sitting on my bed talking to my friend and then out of nowhere, these evil black sheep with red laser eyes appeared and chased me from my room. Of course I ran, they were creepy, and once I got outside I was able to spread my arms and fly from them. I remember the sheep chasing me until my arms got too tired from flapping so I had to land in this swamp. The sheep found me, and one sat on me to hold me down while the others chewed on my toes. It doesn't really hurt, but their teeth are like little needles sticking into my feet. I just sort of laid there, and then I fell asleep. I wake up now on my back, the sheep gone, and my toes sore. Of course, I have to walk home because for some weird reason I can only fly on starry nights. 

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Written by Abi_J in portal Religion

Matthew 26:41

I wake up,

Is my heart beating?

What have I done.

I stand before the mirror.

Who is that?

I surely isn't me.

What is that in their eyes?

Is it fear?

I brush my teeth.

Last nights plaque,

I know I can never go back.

And now I know,

That the soul is willing,

But the flesh is weak.

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11 reads
Written by Abi_J in portal Religion
Matthew 26:41
I wake up,
Is my heart beating?
What have I done.
I stand before the mirror.
Who is that?
I surely isn't me.
What is that in their eyes?
Is it fear?
I brush my teeth.
Last nights plaque,
I know I can never go back.
And now I know,
That the soul is willing,
But the flesh is weak.


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Written by Abi_J

I can't let it out.

I hide inside myself, 

Disregarding even mental health.

I can't let it out,

I'm not really afraid of what you think,

It's me.

If I said it out loud, my heart would sink.

I would fall,

If I let it all out, and said it all.

I know you don't see,

Why I do this to me,

It's in my bones,

To sit with my thoughts alone.

I can't let it out,

The scars on my wrists,

You ask if it must come to this,

But really, there is no other way

I have no say, it controls me.

My pain.

My heart fills with despair,

I lost you here.

I slowly started to ignore you.

But you were getting to close, and

I can't let it out.

If I hide it inside,

and push you away,

Then I might live another day.

I bury the pain,

I try to forget the guilt and shame.

If I realize what I started,

It will all come back to me.

My feelings must stay deep inside,

Because I can't let them out.

They are mine,

And when the rain passes,

The sun might shine,

but until that day,

The clouds must cover the pain 

And shield the heart from the prying eyes of others.

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Written by Abi_J
I can't let it out.
I hide inside myself, 
Disregarding even mental health.
I can't let it out,
I'm not really afraid of what you think,
It's me.
If I said it out loud, my heart would sink.
I would fall,
If I let it all out, and said it all.

I know you don't see,
Why I do this to me,
It's in my bones,
To sit with my thoughts alone.
I can't let it out,
The scars on my wrists,
You ask if it must come to this,
But really, there is no other way
I have no say, it controls me.
My pain.

My heart fills with despair,
I lost you here.
I slowly started to ignore you.
But you were getting to close, and
I can't let it out.
If I hide it inside,
and push you away,
Then I might live another day.
I bury the pain,
I try to forget the guilt and shame.
If I realize what I started,
It will all come back to me.

My feelings must stay deep inside,
Because I can't let them out.
They are mine,
And when the rain passes,
The sun might shine,
but until that day,
The clouds must cover the pain 
And shield the heart from the prying eyes of others.

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Written by Abi_J

Antique

I whisper of long ago,

And within me I hold the slow murmurs of time.

Although you might buy me,

Thou art mine.

I capture the attention of the old. 

In me, they see aspects of their youth,

While I imprison the souls of the young.

They find me fascinating.

I weathered the tides of war,

I survived wreckage and fire,

In a world with no constants,

I remain.

I am naught but antique.

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12 reads
Written by Abi_J
Antique
I whisper of long ago,
And within me I hold the slow murmurs of time.
Although you might buy me,
Thou art mine.
I capture the attention of the old. 
In me, they see aspects of their youth,
While I imprison the souls of the young.
They find me fascinating.
I weathered the tides of war,
I survived wreckage and fire,
In a world with no constants,
I remain.
I am naught but antique.
8
1
0
12 reads
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Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Nothing.

There is nothing,

I am nothing. 

The world has learned nothing.

What am I to do,

I look to no one for they are filled with ignorance.

People rush about their lives,

Searching for what, I do not know.

Find yourself, or make yourself,

It's all the same to me,

Because in the end,

All the false gods of this world will pass on.

Fame, Glory, Power.

All will be gone.

We live in a world that has learned nothing.

For millions of years,

We fought wars for peace,

Our ideas for a better place slaughtered millions.

When will we learn that what we think we want,

And what we do want are not the same thing?

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16 reads
Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Nothing.
There is nothing,
I am nothing. 
The world has learned nothing.
What am I to do,
I look to no one for they are filled with ignorance.
People rush about their lives,
Searching for what, I do not know.
Find yourself, or make yourself,
It's all the same to me,
Because in the end,
All the false gods of this world will pass on.
Fame, Glory, Power.
All will be gone.
We live in a world that has learned nothing.
For millions of years,
We fought wars for peace,
Our ideas for a better place slaughtered millions.
When will we learn that what we think we want,
And what we do want are not the same thing?
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Cats are strange. Maybe they really are aliens! Make up a story of the beginning of the Cat Story Here on Earth while also uncovering the mystery behind these strange phenomena: Stonehenge, Loch Ness, crop circles, the Weeping Virgin, or something of your choosing. The kitties have to figure somewhere in these odd occurrences, don't you think? Any genre will do. Tag me in the comments, please. #StrangeCatsAreHappeningToMe
Written by Abi_J

First Cat

     In the beginning of time, the first animal, a cat walked the earth. He had nine lives for the nine rocks of the heavens. As he was a rather large cat he needed large, sturdy things to play with so he created more rocks to chase. He would fling them up into the sky and watch them burst to ashes in the atmosphere, but after a while the first cat became bored with the sky rock that he was living on because there was nobody else. He sent out a message through the skies and a creature called a human responded. The human was nice to the first cat, but as time went by, the human grew old and died. Again the first cat was alone so this time he sent out a message for two companions because the first human was so nice. When they arrived on first cat's sky rock, the humans were nice to him, but terrible to each other. They fought over everything, and eventually they had children and more children. The humans grew in numbers while first cat stayed the only one of his kind. He saw how happy the human's were together and decided to make another cat. He named her Two because she was the second cat, and after a while they had children as well. 

     The cats and humans multiplied in numbers, the humans a little faster because they had a head start, but one day, there came to be too many cats and humans. Somebody had to go. The cats said that the humans must because cats were on the sky rock first but humans disagreed. Cats being the large, semi-immortal creatures that they were had a larger population because although in the history of the world there were more humans, the humans died off so they never really grew to big of a population. The cats said the humans had to go and the humans the cats, but nobody could come to an agreement. Finally the first cat decided that he would take away the nine lives of all the other cats so that they only had one, that way the cats would die off faster like the humans did and take down the population. The other cats did not like this idea and they rebelled against the humans and first cat. In the battle, many humans died and first cat died eight times, because he did not take away his own set of nine lives, but the humans won and they punished the cats by shrinking them. The shrunk them so that they could never be able to rebel again, and first cat agreed to be shrunk too because he created the cats.

     After all of the cats were shrunk and their nine lives replaced with one, they lost their near immortality and as many humans died in the battle, the population control was no longer a problem. With the loss of his near immortality, first cat grew old and feeble. He still enjoyed playing with rocks but he could no longer fling them up into the heavens so he simply rolled them across the ground. First cat's grand children saw the ageing of first cat and decided to move him to a place where it was warm and the rocks would roll the best. They moved him to a desert. First cat died in that desert a few years after his grand children moved him there but he had so much fun rolling rocks that to this day his great spirit wind paws are said to roll stones across the desert. Named sailing stones after his immortalized wind paws, these stones are the only evidence left of first cat.

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Cats are strange. Maybe they really are aliens! Make up a story of the beginning of the Cat Story Here on Earth while also uncovering the mystery behind these strange phenomena: Stonehenge, Loch Ness, crop circles, the Weeping Virgin, or something of your choosing. The kitties have to figure somewhere in these odd occurrences, don't you think? Any genre will do. Tag me in the comments, please. #StrangeCatsAreHappeningToMe
Written by Abi_J
First Cat
     In the beginning of time, the first animal, a cat walked the earth. He had nine lives for the nine rocks of the heavens. As he was a rather large cat he needed large, sturdy things to play with so he created more rocks to chase. He would fling them up into the sky and watch them burst to ashes in the atmosphere, but after a while the first cat became bored with the sky rock that he was living on because there was nobody else. He sent out a message through the skies and a creature called a human responded. The human was nice to the first cat, but as time went by, the human grew old and died. Again the first cat was alone so this time he sent out a message for two companions because the first human was so nice. When they arrived on first cat's sky rock, the humans were nice to him, but terrible to each other. They fought over everything, and eventually they had children and more children. The humans grew in numbers while first cat stayed the only one of his kind. He saw how happy the human's were together and decided to make another cat. He named her Two because she was the second cat, and after a while they had children as well. 
     The cats and humans multiplied in numbers, the humans a little faster because they had a head start, but one day, there came to be too many cats and humans. Somebody had to go. The cats said that the humans must because cats were on the sky rock first but humans disagreed. Cats being the large, semi-immortal creatures that they were had a larger population because although in the history of the world there were more humans, the humans died off so they never really grew to big of a population. The cats said the humans had to go and the humans the cats, but nobody could come to an agreement. Finally the first cat decided that he would take away the nine lives of all the other cats so that they only had one, that way the cats would die off faster like the humans did and take down the population. The other cats did not like this idea and they rebelled against the humans and first cat. In the battle, many humans died and first cat died eight times, because he did not take away his own set of nine lives, but the humans won and they punished the cats by shrinking them. The shrunk them so that they could never be able to rebel again, and first cat agreed to be shrunk too because he created the cats.
     After all of the cats were shrunk and their nine lives replaced with one, they lost their near immortality and as many humans died in the battle, the population control was no longer a problem. With the loss of his near immortality, first cat grew old and feeble. He still enjoyed playing with rocks but he could no longer fling them up into the heavens so he simply rolled them across the ground. First cat's grand children saw the ageing of first cat and decided to move him to a place where it was warm and the rocks would roll the best. They moved him to a desert. First cat died in that desert a few years after his grand children moved him there but he had so much fun rolling rocks that to this day his great spirit wind paws are said to roll stones across the desert. Named sailing stones after his immortalized wind paws, these stones are the only evidence left of first cat.
#StrangeCatsAreHappeningToMe 
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Write the story of the first wizard from the perspective of the first witch.
Written by Abi_J in portal Fantasy

First Wizard and Witch

He taught me,

He raised me,

He found me,

He made me.

His magic, out of control,

Transformed me to what I am.

Witch, made of lamb.

Now I reign over the world,

I take my pick of who to shave,

And who to kick.

I will not be told,

What to do or how to act,

Because me and him,

We made a sacred pact.

I promised to tell his story,

But first I must warn you,

It is quite gory.

I lived in a time where wolves ruled

And man was but a joke.

As a young boy, First Wizard,

Choked.

On a small red berry,

Magical at that,

On his birthday, 

while wearing his starry blue celebration hat.

A volatile thing,

The magic of fairies,

What did he do?

He ate a faerie berry.

Most men who eat them,

Will die quite soon,

choke on their vomit 

while their wives swoon,

Over angelic elfish faces,

Before split by magical cursed maces.

But at the age that he was,

The Wizard and his pet dove,

Made magically magical,

The dove became and owl.

As he grew older and older,

The Wizard came to find,

Strange things happened 

When imagined in his mind.

One day he was walking,

And to me, his best sheep,

He was talking.

All the sudden,

Out of the blue.

He pulled off his hat

With a flourish or two.

Out from the tip Zap, Zap!

And magical magic,

In shivering fits,

I grew and grew,

And looked down to my hooves,

but instead found shiny, black pointy shoes.

And such is the story,

Of First Wizard, and Witch.

I pulled it off quite well,

I hope there was no hitch.

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Write the story of the first wizard from the perspective of the first witch.
Written by Abi_J in portal Fantasy
First Wizard and Witch
He taught me,
He raised me,
He found me,
He made me.
His magic, out of control,
Transformed me to what I am.
Witch, made of lamb.
Now I reign over the world,
I take my pick of who to shave,
And who to kick.
I will not be told,
What to do or how to act,
Because me and him,
We made a sacred pact.
I promised to tell his story,
But first I must warn you,
It is quite gory.
I lived in a time where wolves ruled
And man was but a joke.
As a young boy, First Wizard,
Choked.
On a small red berry,
Magical at that,
On his birthday, 
while wearing his starry blue celebration hat.
A volatile thing,
The magic of fairies,
What did he do?
He ate a faerie berry.
Most men who eat them,
Will die quite soon,
choke on their vomit 
while their wives swoon,
Over angelic elfish faces,
Before split by magical cursed maces.
But at the age that he was,
The Wizard and his pet dove,
Made magically magical,
The dove became and owl.
As he grew older and older,
The Wizard came to find,
Strange things happened 
When imagined in his mind.
One day he was walking,
And to me, his best sheep,
He was talking.
All the sudden,
Out of the blue.
He pulled off his hat
With a flourish or two.
Out from the tip Zap, Zap!
And magical magic,
In shivering fits,
I grew and grew,
And looked down to my hooves,
but instead found shiny, black pointy shoes.
And such is the story,
Of First Wizard, and Witch.
I pulled it off quite well,
I hope there was no hitch.



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