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Zoelise
Perhaps she's just a mystery hidden in a pen?
26 Posts • 157 Followers • 123 Following
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Challenge
ProseChallenge #67: Write a poem about grief.
The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for 24 consecutive hours. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online. Once the challenge ends, the winner will be chosen and a notification will be sent. The coins will transfer to the Prose Wallet within 24 hours.
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Zoelise
• 123 reads

Stranger In The Bedroom Down The Hall

Oh how I long for your touch,

The once again sweet facade of your voice,

Little girl surrounded by a lonesome world,

Death you did not grasp although sometimes,

I wander,

If it would have been for the better,

So much pain surrounds me,

So much pain for the loss of you,

The loss of air surrounds my lungs,

Gripping life like oil on a summer's grill,

Grief is a monster to those consumed by death,

Yet the jaws of its vindictiveness are much greater,

When the loss is acquired by the living.

Not the little girl I once knew,

Void of blue eyes and innocent smiles,

Crying away the day,

Dreaming of pain in the night,

Sweet water falling down bruised cheeks,

Coating the rivers of ruin,

Surely you must see your reflection,

In the mirrors of your past,

Must long for the joy the content,

The truth and honestly of a beautiful present.

How hearts ache for damned,

Suffering in their own private Hell,

Heat of flames only to burn brighter than,

The spark of unspoken unrelinquished pain,

Grieve attaches to the living in the absence,

Of more living; leaking true death,

Silent tears and no bouquets of flowers,

For the stranger in the bedroom down the hall.

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Challenge
It happened in the library...
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Zoelise
• 87 reads

I saw John Wallis Cry.

It happened in the library.

I saw John Wallis cry.

Not a hysterical sob or a mourn stricken wail, but rather a gentle stream of tears to say goodbye.

I saw John Wallis cry.

His tough guy exterior melted when his father said die.

I saw John Wallis cry.

He looked at the book in his hands watching the memories fly.

I saw John Wallis cry.

Tear-soaked pages from the his father's yearbook of '85.

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Challenge
Tell a story through a list: 1) It can be broken by numbers or bullet points or commas or something else. 2) It can be a collection or sequence or whatever you want. 3) Winner gets 50 coins.
Cover image for post Grocery List, by Zoelise
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Zoelise
• 144 reads

Grocery List

cheese Danish

cOle slaw

mac N' cheese

torTellini

bananaS

briskeT

pIzza dough

chocolate Cake

thicK cut ham

ground meaT

gOat cheese crumbles

yogurT

Horseradish

celEry

broccoLi

ranch dressIng

soft-Serve ice cream

Tuna fish

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Challenge
Describe a flower garden, but do not use any color adjectives (i.e., don't use descriptive words like red, yellow, green). Ideas: Tell me how your body senses the garden? How does red feel? What is yellow? Imagine how it would feel to step into a flower garden without eyesight, then explain it to me. Get visceral...describe the scene either directly or indirectly. Be creative. :) Or go totally metaphorical with it. Think outside the box. Oh, and make it a micro-poem, too. Have fun!
Cover image for post Fields of Flowers, by Zoelise
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Zoelise in Poetry & Free Verse
• 84 reads

Fields of Flowers

Ridged you shatter,

With waves of love's pure light,

Ode to sweetness,

Scents of purity,

Dashed with the fragrance of love,

Dotted with the shades of many a sky,

Beauty you sing as I dance around,

Fields of flowers,

Heaven's earthly crown.

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Challenge
Write a Rhyming Poem using homonyms...have fun with this challenge and feel free to tag me @Zoelise
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Zoelise
• 135 reads

Howard Would Have Been Eight

She sat down at the kitchen table, but there was nothing she ate,

Wiping stray tears, today Howard would have been eight.

She missed his little body curled up beside her; all the books they read,

She missed his mischievous smile when his hands were stained strawberry ice-cream red.

Howard was always so selfless, offering to help with the dishes each week,

Howard was always so loving, comforting the kids in P.E. others viewed as weak.

Despite her lack of hunger she went to grab some cereal from the pantry bin,

Frosted Flakes brushed her hand, those were what Howard's favorite had been.

She laughed at the thought of her baby, he always said he'd add more sugar if he was on the "cereal council",

How upsetting it was that she was now the one seeking counsel.

He was just a sweet young boy, every night by his bed he would pray,

Such a sweet young boy, a drunk driver's prey.

She felt all alone on the morning of February 12, 2014, but she knew she was not,

The fact that 1,149 parents of kids under the age of fourteen were going through that same first birthday without their baby this year, left her stomach in a knot.

*Every time you drink and drive you risk tearing apart a family, don't take that risk.

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Challenge
I got this idea from a poetry workshop I went to yesterday: Write a poem about what your words do. "My words change" or "My words never lie" for example. Make it as creative as you want! And tag me @LiberalPoet.
Cover image for post Diagnosis, by Zoelise
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Zoelise in Poetry & Free Verse
• 112 reads

Diagnosis

She can not feel.

She can not emphasize.

She can not understand why her husband looks at her with empty eyes.

She is not a vegetable.

She is not a freak.

She does not understand why it is such a sin to be unique.

She will not change.

She will not view herself as something atrocious.

She will not think any less of herself because of a diagnosis.

She may not look at the world the same.

She may not understand why you get mad.

She may not accept that it is okay to be sad.

She should not have to be looked down on.

She should not have to deal with being labeled.

She should not have to constantly be judged by people who only see her as disabled.

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Challenge
Pen an absolutely REVOLTING Valentine's Day poem to someone you wish to kill (smother? maim?) with kindness. No more than ten lines, please! Evisceration and filthy, colorful language of yore are a plus. Tag me in the comments, if you wish. #myloathsomevalentine
Cover image for post Untitled, by Zoelise
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Zoelise in Micropoetry
• 181 reads

Roses are Red,

Violets are Blue,

I know your filthy secret,

But that's nothing new.

Lavender is Purple,

Daisies are Yellow,

If I find you back at my place,

You'll be a dead fellow.

Marigolds are Orange,

Chrysanthemums are White,

I hope your perfect face,

Is disfigured in a fight.

Pansies are Pink,

And Dead Flowers are Black,

Here's your Valentine's Day card,

I will never want you back.

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Challenge
Let's bring back sonnets! I challenge you to write a Shakespearean sonnet. 14 lines, the first 12 lines are separated into 3 quatrains with 4 lines each. The last 2 lines are its own couplet at the end. Each line has 10 syllables. It is an iambic pentameter. The rhyme scheme is as follows: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. For more of an explanation follow this link: https://tinyurl.com/SonnetHowTo or message me any questions. For an example follow this link: https://tinyurl.com/18Sonnet.
Cover image for post My Angel of Earth, by Zoelise
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Zoelise in Poetry & Free Verse
• 134 reads

My Angel of Earth

Beauty, of your deep eyes entangle me,

Glorious blonde locks, a sweet pout on air,

Cursed will days know where I can not see,

Cursed to not declare your face so fair,

Oh beautiful daughter of the pure knight,

Your sweet crescent laughter echoes mourn's song,

You brighten my days and fulfill my night,

Sweet angel of earth; never do you wrong,

Truly I lay there in a shattered state,

Whenever I feel your body leave bed,

Covered in only a sheet and love's fate,

Oh how your beauty plays tricks in my head,

You are my source of light and without thee,

I would be a lonely man at the most,

Angel of earth, how can you ever be?

Please hear once more to my lovingly toast,

Angel, I will love you until I die,

For my love you will never have to try.

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Challenge
Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
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Zoelise
• 132 reads

And So You Created the Creation Story

"I just don't understand God, I've read Genesis a million times but I still don't understand why when everything about you was perfect, you decided to make us, who you knew would screw you over. So here's my question God, why did you create the creation story?"

"It's very simple my darling, on the first day I sat from my heavenly throne above and thought of what could be. I sat there in my place of perfect, and I wished that upon another world, so I created the night. The night was beautiful my dear, however, light was needed to show my affection, consider it a reminder of my love, and so I then poured a little bit of my glory onto the night creating day. I saw the beginning of something great, and I smiled; it was good. Now the next day came dear, and I saw a need for diversity, thus I am diversity, the life, the truth, and the way, any who I formed the seas and separated it from what I declared the sky. Both were beautiful and blue, the color of my eyes as I was born Jesus. I stopped to observe its beauty; my beauty; the second day. On the third day, I realized a need for a place of living, see my dear I had plans for you before you came into existence; now yes the seas and the skies were bound to meet at the place of earth I called land. Land was a beautiful thing my darling, and I knew it was good. The land was beautiful, but when the many flowers and trees birthing the sources for food and shelter it became even more so. You see, everything has its place and grows so specific to its kind, as do the fruits need water to thrive, you can only be pure to your kind by my word, pure to my image. Surely, the fourth day came and I saw the need to emphasize the difference of the days, see dear, I'm all-knowing but without a great light in the daytime and a gentle glow at night your kind would not have known how to tell apart the times or the seasons. To accommodate the gentle light of the night I played dancing bodies of stars along the rim to provide you pleasure. No matter the situation there will always be light in the darkest of times my dear, I will never leave you nor forsake you. And so the stars came and went and the fifth day was at my hand, truly I had made a wonderful sight, yet it would be a sin for no one to enjoy my gifts. I breathed birds into existence and creatures of the seas, I blessed them all and watched as they moved across the great vasts, forming among themselves according to their kind, my dear I have such great compassion for the animals and yet so much greater a love for you. The creatures of land and sea were wonderfully made, yet on the sixth day I decided to make more, so that these creatures might not be dismayed. I made animals of the land, beautiful in their differences and brought together by their similarities, they formed among themselves according to their kind and I once again saw they were good. And this my favorite creation began, I made man in my image, even though I knew man was to stray from it. Man and female to not fall lonely and to help each other grow, I blessed them and saw that they would multiply. I gave them reign over every other living thing and the world I had created I blessed them with these gifts so they could get a mere glimpse of how much I love them and how much I long for them to glorify me. I saw my work was good, and on the seventh day I found it complete, thus creating a day of rest and holiness; the Sabbath. My darling, I didn't create you or this earth because I needed you, I created you because I knew you were to need me; I made you in my image so you could grow to love me and honor me, and someday come join me in heaven where you'll finally understand all my beauty and mystery. My dear, you will find your heart strung all over the praises and challenges of this life, yet come to me with your prayers, thoughts, and questions, and I will see to it that you will thrive. I show my control of the land, the seas, and the many creatures, you just need to know throughout your life I'm in control as well.

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Challenge
*Writing Prompt: You are a kid's imaginary friend. He's growing up. You're fading away.* Please tag me in the comments if you do the challenge. :)
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Zoelise in Poetry & Free Verse
• 125 reads

Forever and Ever

Forever and Ever, that's your favorite song in Winnie the Poo.

Oh little boy how I wish that were me and you.

I was right by your side as you blew out birthday candles six.

I rode with you to the ER when you were bitten by that snake who was hidding in that pile of sticks.

We were the best of friends once upon a time ago and now I just lend a melancholy smile from your shelf.

It's bound to happen soon, after all you now know the truth about the elf.

And little boy I'll miss you now that you're growing to be big.

Little boy I'll miss cuddling with you on the couch reading about the three little pigs. And I know everyone grows up and gets a little smarter.

But just remember I was your dear old imaginary friend Carter.

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