I can't help but to transfix my gaze

Even if only from the corner of my eye

From the shiny glass of a grocery store window

Or a moment's pause in a hallway mirror

Before you go out to face the world

I see you in three-dimensions

Rainbows bouncing off of curve and bone

And every angle is beautiful

The broken parts and those that have mended

Your strength - of body, yes - but also heart and conviction

I see when you are spent, which seems more often now

And love you still, because of and in spite of it.

I wish you could see me the way that I see you

But too often you look my way with loathing

The best days, I think, are when you don't look at me all

Because in those moments at least there is hope

That maybe you realize you are something

Beyond the flesh and freckles and folds

~Something of value~

And you may think me silly,

But every now and then I entertain the thought

That I will one day meet your eyes with a smile

And a knowing that we feel the same for one another

At last

Admiration, understanding and, above all, love

But I would be lying if I didn't tell you

That it's been 35 years and I am growing weary

How long can my love go unanswered

Before it becomes too hard to bare and

I am gone for good?

I noticed that there weren't many newbies on this thread, so I didn't bother myself. Buuuttt then figured that maybe everyone else is thinking the same thing, so stop being a loser and go say hi to these nice people. So, I am an 'amateur' writer (is that a thing?), from England (don't hold it against me). I have been writing all my life (the pen holding years anywho) and entering competitions for about a year now - in between having babies and homeschooling (fun btw you should try it).

I am also just discovering that it is still possible to be socially awkward whilst typing so I will see myself out.

Daphne_H \m/

Dear "Writer" *choking back a chuckle*:

We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your submission. Regretfully (seriously, we're losing sleep over this and have spent the past several nights crying), we are not able to accept your piece in our esteemed, GOAT publication of super awesome, totally radical, bodacious collection of writing. We mean no disrespect, but your story brought no feeling or emotional attachment to us whatsoever. In fact, instead of reading your story, we would rather count every glade of grass in a 50 acre piece of land. Instead of ever reading your story again, we would rather sit in a small four walled room and watch white paint dry. Instead of being subjected to your literature, we would rather count to 5 zillion non-stop before doing anything else (including eating, drinking, or using the restroom). We are unable to use your piece, because it will not make us any richer if we publish dreck like yours, and in the words of the far superior, great poet of our time, the one and only Puff Daddy, "It's all about the Benjamins, baby." We would encourage you to try again the next time we accept submissions, but in all honesty, we hope this letter discourages you from ever contacting us ever again. So shoo.... pretty please?

Sincerely,

Do you really care what my name is, and even if you did do you think you are worthy of any introduction from me?

Dear Mr. Escritor,

It is, from a certain perspective, a privilege to observe the bloom of Amorphophallus titanium, and not only because of its size. Some specimens of the plant have grown an entire decade before they are capable of producing their massive bloom: once the flowers die, another decade might pass before they return. No bees attend to its pollination needs: rather, the flower attracts carrion beetles and flesh flies. According to Wikipedia, Amorphophallus titanium, (more commonly known as the corpse flower) draws these insects through a combination of chemicals: “dimethyl trisulfide (like limburger cheese), dimethyl disulfide (garlic), trimethylamine (rotting fish), isovaleric acid (sweaty socks), benzyl alcohol (sweet floral scent), phenol (like Chloraseptic), and indole (like feces).”

We will not be publishing your manuscript.

Sincerely,

The Editors

CURRENT CENTURY OR TIME:

Set in the period of the times of magick, rulers of the dark arts, and in an age when folks in every village still believed that the Black Forest was a place where naughty children who did not listen to their parents would end up being either taken and eaten by a witch or whisked away to the realm of the dead never to be seen in the land of the living ev'r again.

THE STORY OF THE DRUIDS

Once upon a time, long ago, well, before the dawn of time. Druids gathered from their own space and time to venture into the unknown and outer further places, regions, among the multiverse. They ended up creating a planet, Orn, where magick dwells and creatures took over so much space of the new planet.

But one day, they decided that a planet needed some mighty warriors or at the very least the druids formed several mortal beings and instructed them to work together and care for the planet, Orn.

SECTIONS OF THE PLANET

The planet Orn is filled with scavenger-type birds, insects that when held secrete acid, plants that may look pretty and calm, but get closer to them and you might be swallowed whole, or squeezed to death. There are other sections of the planet filled with caves of wonder, ancient drawings, marked explosive sites, including volcanic activity in the more rocky areas/regions of the planet.

VARIOUS ADVENTURES...

As a new stranger to the planet, dive into the peculiar world created by the Druids. Explore the vast range of regions, with some holding a section cut off from the rest of the planet that is underground and filled with fossils of odd-looking creatures. Just try not to be too curious, they say these fossils might be buried, even if that is so the slightest brush or touch may bring them back to life.

The range of adventures and missions:

A. Working to create a village- building your own place while trying to battle the creatures in the area.

B. Taking part and place at the academy created to train others in the ways of the Druids. Learning and even trying out the druid magick.

C. Experiencing the different zones and areas of the planet, seasons, too. Going to dive deep into the Black forest, watch out for the deadly plants, witches, or random portals that will lead you to the realm of the dead. then once you're there you'll have to figure out how to escape.

D. Work on discovering the spell the druids used to explore the multiverse.

E. Battle the fossils, try to win/end up getting ready for death by fossilization. Or face becoming a fossil, too!

F. Take a ride on a scavenger bird to view the planet, Orn, from the green and violet sky.

Good luck! May the druids grant you favor as you wander the planet, Orn.

#DRUIDS #RULE! (c) 01/06/2022.

the last time they

saw him

happy

was when he told them about

that weird dream

he had

in which wine

poured from the tap in

his kitchen

and that

was it

he had nothing else

in life to

be happy about

They didn’t need to

ask his

profession

Somehow they

all knew

he was a

poet

***

INSTAGRAM:

https://www.instagram.com/bogdan_1_dragos/

I am not white.

I am not black.

I am not a color.

I am stranded

in the middle of the pacific.

I am labeled.

I am not claimed.

I have not claimed.

Will I ever claim?

A daughter of humanity.

I came from here,

but I also came from there.

I came from nowhere.

I only exist here.

Where are you from?

Here.

But, where are you from?

...There.

Oh, I’ve been there! It was so beautiful.

That’s nice. I’ve never been there.

Why not? Aren’t you from there?

I’m from here.

But I thought you were from there?

I am from there, but I am from here.

I’ve never been there.

I am here. I am from there.

Where am I? I am nowhere.

We just exist here.

Don’t judge me. You’re the same.

Neither here nor there.

Just existing in this place.

She gives

me a good

whooping

from time

to time.

I can't say

I didn't

deserve it.

Trippin'

and sliding

Her mind

melding

sticker

slaps,

breaks

my pride.

I never

know

that I'm

close,

until

I cross

the line.

Fine me

your

love

baby,

let me

fight

to honor

our pact.

You're

my sun...

the cannon

fodder

that ursurps

the burn.

I'll gladly

walk back

to the klin.

Add more

inkling

to my steel.

Over

and over

till my will

is one

with your wish.

Willpower is mine

I write in a flourished time

Of hope-hastened rinde

* * * * *

@DANdeLION_Page \ @bykaileyann

#haiku #poetry #prose