Preface:

Imagine that the word "Love" comes to life, transforming into a character that embodies love in all its forms. Its appearance is soft, like the first ray of sunlight at dawn, and its movements are smooth and enveloping, like a warm embrace. Its clothes are adorned with hundreds of tiny hearts that shimmer and glow, reflecting its emotions. The character's eyes are deep, filled with wisdom and infinite kindness, capable of soothing any pain.

Love is always surrounded by an aura of warmth, tenderness, and harmony. It can hear even the unspoken words and notice in people what is hidden from others. Its voice sounds like a melody familiar to everyone, evoking a smile and a sense of peace.

However, Love is not just tenderness. In its heart lies a strength capable of overcoming any obstacle, healing wounds, and offering hope. Its presence inspires people to be the best versions of themselves. Sometimes, it can be unpredictable, playful, and even a little chaotic because love comes in many forms: quiet, passionate, burning, and caring.

This character reminds us that love is not only a feeling but also an action that can change the world around us. Through its stories, we can see how important it is to love — others, life, ourselves, and even the small things that make our day better.

"Love and the Magical Flower"

One day, Love, our magical hero, was strolling through the forest, enjoying the gentle breeze that tousled his hair. He always loved walking among the trees, for they, like old friends, silently listened to him, while they themselves shared amazing stories.

On that day, as the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in pink and golden hues, Love noticed something special — a tiny flower hiding among the bushes. It was so small that one might easily miss it, but that was exactly what caught Love's attention. The flower was white, with a faint glow around its petals. It was so delicate and invisible, as if its creation had been inspired by love itself.

"You are so beautiful," Love whispered, leaning closer to the flower. "Why are you hiding?"

The flower answered in a soft voice, one that only Love could hear.

"I'm afraid I won't be noticed. I'm too small. Maybe I'm not as important as the other flowers. Everyone looks at the big, bright ones, and I... I'm just tiny."

Love smiled, and his eyes sparkled with warmth. He sat down next to the flower and gently embraced it, his soft energy filling the air.

"You know, little flower," Love said, "love is not always visible at first glance. It often hides in the most unremarkable things. But anyone who can see it will feel how it can change the world. You are important, and your beauty is unique."

The flower felt its petals begin to bloom even brighter, and soft glowing sparks appeared around its tiny stem. Love placed his hand on the delicate stem, and immediately hundreds of other small flowers began to glow, as if they too had awakened, feeling the power of love.

"You were right," said the flower. "Love really can change everything."

From that day on, the tiny flower became one of the most beautiful in the forest, and everyone who passed by couldn't help but notice its special glow. And Love, content, continued on his way, knowing that his magic had filled the world with one more miracle.

And so, through this encounter, Love taught us all: love is not always something huge and loud. It can be small, warm, and quiet, but it is these moments that create magic in our world.

© 2024 Victoria Lunar. All rights reserved.

You know the feeling when you start thinking and just can't stop again

You fall into a tunnel that has no end because it had no start

You've always been here and there's no escape

It's just life and there's no choice but to keep living or die

No alternate option or restart button if you don't like the hand you drew

No option to stop thinking once you've started

You can train for years but your mind will never be empty, just shift in focus

I'm not scared to die but I'm scared that I'll never live again

This life will be the only one I ever have and what if I'm not doing enough with it

Then what if I just don't have as much potential as some other lives and I'm in a tunnel just thinking and thinking while other people are running free in vivid picture brains with infinite possibilities and my whole life is just one string of words until I remember their life is the only one they have too

I guess I'm mostly sad that this existence is the only one I'll ever get to know

I'll never get to grow up any other way than how I did

and I'll never look in the mirror and see any other face but mine

And the tunnel doesn't start and doesn't end

It's so full of everything I've experienced in my life but it never meets with any other tunnel

There will never be anything here seen by any eyes but mine and all the memories are colored by the same lens and all the wants are ones I determined for myself long ago and now they're so built in I can't just stop living the way I always have

I can stand still or walk or run but I can never leave

Even if I leave I won't be able to go anywhere else, see anyone else's existence, I'm just gone and that's it and my lonely tunnel will still be there, not that anyone would know because they can't see it, they're trapped in themselves too

Now I'm in bed and the world's moving around me and I'm up and moving too but I'm still stuck here

I want to leave and know something else but this is all I'll ever know

These stone walls of memories, these flashes of desires, always the empty spaces where there should be doors leading to other tunnels

Let us know each other

Please

Nothing.

I guess I have nothing to do but keep going with this life that's mine

Keep trying to find my way into other people's realities, keep knowing I'll never really make it, just like they can't see mine

Please come in, I want you to know me

Let our lives intersect

Twine as close as they can

They'll never touch and never trade lenses but they can tint each other with the other’s color

Carefully, meticulously, I attach strings to my puppets and teach them how to dance.

I already know that some of my flock will be more popular with my audience than others; these are the chosen ones who will cause eyes to widen and mouths to shape into 'Os'. But still, I must allow space and stage time for the duller members of the troop, the rent-a-crowd, the puppets whose mere presence is required in order to allow the chosen ones to shine.

Sometimes of course, for reasons unknown, a small and ineffectual puppet will catch the audiences hearts, or perhaps their minds, and step forward to become the unexpected star of the show. I enjoy these situations but I can't profess to understand them. But who am I to decide on the appeal of the puppets that I create, and lead, and mold, and command?

For no-one sees me, out of sight behind the scenes.

The reality is that my role is largely anonymous and wholly divergent as each individual member of the audience embraces the puppets, both the stars and the add-ins, in their own unique way. And it is a concrete, set-in-stone fact, that some will not, will never, enjoy the show at all.

For I am a puppeteer of words and this is my story.

you'll find me across the room

not looking at you perhaps

I'll be lost but somehow found

thinking, processing, puzzling out

not miles, galaxies away

but I'll be there and soon

sooner than we both think

my limbs will be tangled up with yours

they won't be mine anymore:

mine will begin where yours end

and just then you'll know

when to play that John Mayer song

how to prepare my tea

- unsweetened, scorching-

and my theory on how the Earth came to be

but until then, keep tiptoeing

the world; you'll find me

soon enough.

Raven meet me at the midnight hour

under the old clock tower

where the dead forever rest

thats where I should like it best

wear your favorite red satin gown

Let your ebony hair cascade down

bring along black satin ties

you will be a sight for sore eyes

Your porcelain skin glows from the moonlit beams

as I watch you waiting there nervously for me

your luscious ebony locks dance on the wind

as you wring the black satin ties I begin to grin

Slowly from behind I make my way to you

this experience i feel is long past due

you've teased and tortured me long enough

I'm calling you out now on your bluff

I place my hands firmly on your hips

Making sure you wont escape my grip

as I kiss your necks supple skin

I feel your resolve begin to give in

I take the ties in my hand

tying yours behind your back as planned

whispering seductively in your ear

Tempting desires for you to hear

you fight me not on this devilish plan

feeling excited by this crazy man

I unzip your gown with one single tug

as I smile at you looking so smug

I push your dress to the ground below

your body now is mine to know

now in heels and stockings alone

it's time to hear your lustful moans

Sometimes I wonder about

The thoughts in the heads

That look and see me

But ignore me instead

Do I look normal

Or am I to dread

If it’s the latter

I hope they misread

I think about them

As they bob ahead

Where are they going?

What have they said?

Do they think the same

When they see my head

Or am I not noticed

Just blocking the bread

Do I seem put together

Or like I just left the bed

Do they notice my good side

Is just makeup spread

I’ve thought these things

About other heads

I pass and they nod

But is that just inbred

Can they tell that my

Eyes are a little widespread

Do they think I am late

As I speed up my tread

Or am I just something

With a shadow to shed

Over their footsteps and

They don’t think a shred

Her eyes, her hair, her life,

Was a beautiful mess;

Semi destroyed, semi put together.

No straight lines -

Just doodles on the wall.

Musical notes that were wrong,

A chin that was a bit too strong.

But when put together,

There was magic in her storm.

Ritika. Jolly

I have seen my parents younger

but there’s not long anymore

until they close their eyes

look to the skies

and walk the one-way door

I watch their sun go down each day

and I have been keeping score

of the countless years

just like the tears.

I’ve seen them happier before

The family is here right now

to see their final paces

but it’s a big disguise

it’s in their eyes

and the smiles behind their faces

They’re all wishing time would fly by

and were like it from the start

They would not waste time

if it wasn’t a crime

to stab them through the heart

Within their home is plenty

within the bank is plenty more

for years they had saved

to have the road paved

so their kids would never cry poor

The time has come, their number up

their hearts have been released

it breaks my heart

when a world falls apart

when they think they rest in peace

My family have gone, the race begun

for them there is no peace of mind

until the house is bare

and they’ve taken what’s there

whatever my folks left behind

I will never forget what my father had said

as he whispered to me through the pain:

“I wonder the cost

of no love lost

if there was never any love gained.

You know my good son it’s just not the same

throughout and beyond other cultures.

I can see their disguise

and blood in their eyes

with their mouths dripping like vultures”

Yellow crinkles under feet,

the stems of leaves,

damp from the recent rain,

but you walk down your asphalt

driveway to get the mail.

The limbs of gray trees,

empty of their leaves,

whistle to the wind,

but you sway your hips,

a shimmer of red cloth.

The mailbox clinks open,

pulling out crisp envelopes,

twisted from journey,

but you turn back around

to slip up the hill.

A whisper smooths its way

from the glide of your feet

to the crunch of tree petals,

the orange burn curling,

but you just slither on,

the click of blue scales,

shifting under your dress.

I've gone dry

With words

That aren't flowing

Rivers run in my mind

But my pen

Won't move

Stuck

Blocked

My mind knows

What to say

But the pen

On strike

The ink

Between my fingers

Frozen

Words get jumbled

Thoughts snowballing

Tangled wires

Messages saying abort

Until another day

K.j.a. (c) 2017