Abi_J
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You've just won a recording-setting lottery...what do you do next? 150 coins for the most inventive non-rhyming response.
Written by Abi_J

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

WHAT?

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

I repeat it to myself again.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

I WON?

How can this be possible?

I only bought one ticket!

And do you know why?

It was because my aunt told me:

God is doing all he can to make you win the lottery, you just have to buy a ticket.

And me, the literal person,  actually bought a lottery ticket.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

NOW what do I do?

I could GO so many places...

Cancun, Paris, Greece...

I think I will just buy a can of tomato soup and sit on my bed for now.

I even might watch some TV on my 12'' screen.

And tommorow, I should probably get a new one.

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You've just won a recording-setting lottery...what do you do next? 150 coins for the most inventive non-rhyming response.
Written by Abi_J
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

WHAT?
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.

I repeat it to myself again.
Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.
I WON?

How can this be possible?
I only bought one ticket!
And do you know why?
It was because my aunt told me:
God is doing all he can to make you win the lottery, you just have to buy a ticket.
And me, the literal person,  actually bought a lottery ticket.

Five Hundred Thousand Thousand Dollars.
NOW what do I do?
I could GO so many places...
Cancun, Paris, Greece...
I think I will just buy a can of tomato soup and sit on my bed for now.
I even might watch some TV on my 12'' screen.
And tommorow, I should probably get a new one.


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Written by Abi_J in portal History

Translation

Ic þurfan mod,

þonne, ic þurfan neorxnawang,

Oþþe, swefns,

Seo middangeard.

I need courage,

then, I need paradise,

Or, dreams,

Of the world.

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Written by Abi_J in portal History
Translation
Ic þurfan mod,
þonne, ic þurfan neorxnawang,
Oþþe, swefns,
Seo middangeard.

I need courage,
then, I need paradise,
Or, dreams,
Of the world.
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Write a story or poem with a minimum of 10 old english words(preferably rarely used). :) #oldenglish
Written by Abi_J

Old English

I stand, erstwhile pacing,

oft sitting.

I laugh at the trumpery scattered about the hus.

I look to left, and riht.

The eald door, scatched with age,

Reminds me of my brodor.

And I, a wifmann,

Call, find no andswarain,

And face the great aglæca.

I step about, sweord in hand,

bæl and sceadu effuse from it.

The great aglæca.

Sefa, my Sefa, it pounds in the cavern,

The cavern of my chest.

At long last sige!

And yet I stand, erstwhile pacing,

and oft sitting.

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Write a story or poem with a minimum of 10 old english words(preferably rarely used). :) #oldenglish
Written by Abi_J
Old English
I stand, erstwhile pacing,
oft sitting.
I laugh at the trumpery scattered about the hus.
I look to left, and riht.
The eald door, scatched with age,
Reminds me of my brodor.
And I, a wifmann,
Call, find no andswarain,
And face the great aglæca.
I step about, sweord in hand,
bæl and sceadu effuse from it.
The great aglæca.
Sefa, my Sefa, it pounds in the cavern,
The cavern of my chest.
At long last sige!
And yet I stand, erstwhile pacing,
and oft sitting.
2
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2
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10 reads
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Grab a pen. Now jot the first thing that crosses your mind--BACKWARDS! This shall now be the heart (5th line) of your new 9 line micropoem.
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry

Mathematics

I grab a pen,

And write down the numbers,

I love this thing,

Called math.

Shop junk is a math,

Crosses my mind.

I head down,

And calculate some more numbers.

What did I do? I calculated the life of you.

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Grab a pen. Now jot the first thing that crosses your mind--BACKWARDS! This shall now be the heart (5th line) of your new 9 line micropoem.
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry
Mathematics
I grab a pen,
And write down the numbers,
I love this thing,
Called math.
Shop junk is a math,
Crosses my mind.
I head down,
And calculate some more numbers.
What did I do? I calculated the life of you.
3
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2
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14 reads
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"How quickly these unsent letters accumulate!" Write with this theme. Tag with #draftFull. Tag me at the comments section so I can read, k?
Written by Abi_J in portal Stream of Consciousness

Letters Unsent

How quickly these unsent letters accumulate,

Dust of my mind waiting, and daring,

To be let out of their coop.

Each letter implores, 

Yet at the end of every one,

Quote "Return to sender"

I have not the courage to send out my soul,

These letters, would end it all.

I stare at the ever growing pile,

It takes on a life of it's own.

How many letters accumulate,

Over time,

As I sit and watch the dust gather, 

On the unfinished books.

The letters accumulate,

They form words,

and maybe even thoughts.

Out of my darkening mind,

And in between the methamphetamine shots.

2
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"How quickly these unsent letters accumulate!" Write with this theme. Tag with #draftFull. Tag me at the comments section so I can read, k?
Written by Abi_J in portal Stream of Consciousness
Letters Unsent
How quickly these unsent letters accumulate,
Dust of my mind waiting, and daring,
To be let out of their coop.
Each letter implores, 
Yet at the end of every one,
Quote "Return to sender"
I have not the courage to send out my soul,
These letters, would end it all.
I stare at the ever growing pile,
It takes on a life of it's own.
How many letters accumulate,
Over time,
As I sit and watch the dust gather, 
On the unfinished books.
The letters accumulate,
They form words,
and maybe even thoughts.
Out of my darkening mind,
And in between the methamphetamine shots.

#draftFull 
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To the best of your ability, tell us which would you choose or which one is better - A broken heart or An empty one! If you will, please include the 'Why'. #BrokenOrEmpty Tag me, if you want!! Happy writing, y'all :)
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry

Empty Heart

Broken or empty,

Shattered or whole.

Love is foolish.

Remain empty, stay full.

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To the best of your ability, tell us which would you choose or which one is better - A broken heart or An empty one! If you will, please include the 'Why'. #BrokenOrEmpty Tag me, if you want!! Happy writing, y'all :)
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry
Empty Heart
Broken or empty,
Shattered or whole.
Love is foolish.
Remain empty, stay full.
13
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Another 10 word micropoem challenge: write a poem that begins with the word TAIL and ends with the word TALE. Or the other way around! Tag me, if you wish! #ATailTale
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry

Tail, Tale.

Tail, Fur, Paws.

Lies, Society, Laws.

Tell Stories, not tales.

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Another 10 word micropoem challenge: write a poem that begins with the word TAIL and ends with the word TALE. Or the other way around! Tag me, if you wish! #ATailTale
Written by Abi_J in portal Micropoetry
Tail, Tale.
Tail, Fur, Paws.
Lies, Society, Laws.
Tell Stories, not tales.
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2
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Written by Abi_J

Why Write?

You asked me how I did it,

Why do I write?

It is as inevitable as death,

And as much of a necessity as breathing.

My blood pumps through my veins,

Instead of oxygen, it carries words.

The live giving, and taking,

Power of words rushes through me.

Who is more powerful than the writer?

The writer has the power to enter souls

A writer can change lives, doom them, or save them.

A writer enters in through the eyes, and then to the mind.

Opens worlds for readers to find,

But most of all, I write because it is all mine,

Every word, every sentence, and every paragraph is solely mine.

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Written by Abi_J
Why Write?
You asked me how I did it,
Why do I write?
It is as inevitable as death,
And as much of a necessity as breathing.
My blood pumps through my veins,
Instead of oxygen, it carries words.
The live giving, and taking,
Power of words rushes through me.
Who is more powerful than the writer?
The writer has the power to enter souls
A writer can change lives, doom them, or save them.
A writer enters in through the eyes, and then to the mind.
Opens worlds for readers to find,
But most of all, I write because it is all mine,
Every word, every sentence, and every paragraph is solely mine.

2
0
1
Juice
7 reads
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Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Opium

What is faith but an opium,

A sweet dream of what is to come?

Put on airs of emotion,

and try to fake that you care.

Hold back the waves of the ocean,

And watch silently as your heart still cracks open.

The eddies and whirls of time,

Will try to hide from you,

The ever effacing truth,

They will pull at the silver threads,

Tugging, Tugging, 

Until the head drops and in creeps death.

Here you will find the last remnants of friends,

But also the place where you are completely alone.

But silently still, your breaths creep,

In, out. In, out.

They sighing, whisper past your parched lips,

You never found water,

And as each muscle groans, and into the blackness you sink,

Farther, Farther.

You begin to choke

On the lies of your past,

Searching for something to grab,

A poppy, or blade of grass,

To keep you from the brink of gleaming madness,

or blackness?

Eyes no longer function,

Now death has really come and you find solace in the old opium,

Sweet dreams of what is to come.

3
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Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Opium
What is faith but an opium,
A sweet dream of what is to come?
Put on airs of emotion,
and try to fake that you care.
Hold back the waves of the ocean,
And watch silently as your heart still cracks open.

The eddies and whirls of time,
Will try to hide from you,
The ever effacing truth,
They will pull at the silver threads,
Tugging, Tugging, 
Until the head drops and in creeps death.
Here you will find the last remnants of friends,
But also the place where you are completely alone.
But silently still, your breaths creep,
In, out. In, out.
They sighing, whisper past your parched lips,
You never found water,
And as each muscle groans, and into the blackness you sink,
Farther, Farther.
You begin to choke
On the lies of your past,
Searching for something to grab,
A poppy, or blade of grass,
To keep you from the brink of gleaming madness,
or blackness?
Eyes no longer function,
Now death has really come and you find solace in the old opium,
Sweet dreams of what is to come.

3
0
1
Juice
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Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Lost Lies

I mourn the loss of my childlike lies,

That covered my still gauzy eyes.

Gauzy only for I had just awakened,

To the face of mother World.

Born from her, she played with me.

I laughing sat in pretend faery trees.

But at long last I stepped on stone,

And tore the veil, revealing that I was alone.

I never meant to do this much ill,

But the longer here, the more the blackness seems to fill,

My heart, mind, and soul.

At first I chose to be in the World,

but I lost my way,

And now for many days I search,

for a path back to the place where I became

This monster, maybe I could turn back time,

And find the laughter, avoid the lime,

Which rubbed away my innocence.

Now I stand, the day almost done,

I soon will return to Father earth,

I will become as one,

With the dirt and soil which I once so fervently loved.

The very soil which bore me and made me,

Adam of adamah, add to breath,

Upon thee, living rock, I will breathe my last. 

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Written by Abi_J in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Lost Lies
I mourn the loss of my childlike lies,
That covered my still gauzy eyes.
Gauzy only for I had just awakened,
To the face of mother World.
Born from her, she played with me.
I laughing sat in pretend faery trees.
But at long last I stepped on stone,
And tore the veil, revealing that I was alone.
I never meant to do this much ill,
But the longer here, the more the blackness seems to fill,
My heart, mind, and soul.
At first I chose to be in the World,
but I lost my way,
And now for many days I search,
for a path back to the place where I became
This monster, maybe I could turn back time,
And find the laughter, avoid the lime,
Which rubbed away my innocence.
Now I stand, the day almost done,
I soon will return to Father earth,
I will become as one,
With the dirt and soil which I once so fervently loved.
The very soil which bore me and made me,
Adam of adamah, add to breath,
Upon thee, living rock, I will breathe my last. 
2
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0
Juice
6 reads
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