creative writing – Page 7

far gone

How can I paint this properly?

When you there far away

Watching you

makes my night

brings the light

I can feel your energy

Trying to break free

From life’s bind

Two worlds

Souls searching for answers

Stuck in desires

Wants dressed in love

Dreams coated in silence

Seems like a wall

when I try

Like a bridge stretched

and you’re over there

Things left unsaid

Moments gone never retrieved

Two worlds never converging

For now I’ll leave

the rest for the later

and revisit for a drink and some laughter

Rebellion

To rebel is to die

though what I seek is life

Finding truth in lost books

Picking lost gems in past sins

Sins of our Forefathers

The words painted read betrayal

Living is the price we pay to die

Sin rubbed against the walls of the jungle

Signs our fathers left

Don’t you see the buildings falling?

Phasing into green leaves

As the sun pours the fire on earth

Shadows roam these streets

Forgetting the blood smeared on our houses

They search for the coward

who left behind hatred

The phase of our lives

Stages set in a point of solace

Cries made from water

Drank only after the party ends

During the times that have come by, I pray for war to come. Not these new modern warfare. The old kind. Those ones stationed between battle noise and mud trenches. The zipping sounds of mortars, as empty bullet shells illuminate the blood heavy war terrain. Soldier boots marching through old places that were once called new homes.

Yes, I pray night and day. Night and day! Yes, for at night sleep refuses me and tosses me in between my past memories and a future I remain nameless.

………………………………..

These drones are empty vessels. They are transporters of bad news and death. For our souls do hunger for a reason to accept sleep, but no! Not these ones. These silent birds made with fiber like materials only look down, fall flat, and never return up.

Like thin dots silently scattered.

Only if your hands be wide as the oceans floors and you bring them together then one might see how much these dots have cost us.

…………………………………

I grow sick by the hour. Every hour eaten in silence. Every chance taken just to remain still. I grow deeper into my own anger. Madness beckons daringly close ….and I fear I will welcome it back home.

Commander Bull. ENTRY #204881

Battlefront Shagari Sector, Year 2098

Simple World: Origins

Space..The beginning of all things created deep within the furnace called life. From void, we arrived. Celestial in size, eternal in depth, spirit beings in our true state. A speck of some form floating, wrapped tightly around milky linen sheets.

We, from the deep darkness awoken into the truth that is called Light have come very far.
Far, into the parallels of different points in existence, we have journeyed: timeless
……..
I opened my eyes and my birth origins flashed right by. An enormous bird stayed stuck gliding on the wings of the gold coast skies, i saw.

I once dreamed. Dragged and buried under the ambient galaxies. Forced to witness my tomorrow unfold, my eyes free from any manipulations. The smell of daylight lingered strong pushing away the burnt reflections of any known pain. Here, stationed in this shuttle named tomorrow, i saw that indeed the human life in full was blunt with words and brief to experience. Like a good high..the memories vivid, duration always shortened.

sky wall//forest crossing

Tying melodic knots
Interwined by destiny
Sealed by fingerprints
I remain high
Knowing my fate
Up here
The pain rides slower
So i glide better
Ever so much
Better than i ever did
These old colors
feel new in beating red

Old fashion tusks
Stained with bullets scars
My rough skin wades
Lighter with each pull
I stand tall, falling deep within

Mammoth, mammoth being
I call you
Do you not see them?
Why have you refused to not move?
There you stand receiving all
Bullet holes filled with forced pain
Yet you dance
Raising earth and dust
Your enchanting foot steps
leaves me doing the same jivving here on cloud dust
as i look down onto you
with my peace of mind

Simple World: the southern Queen

The smell of freshly mowed grass runs through me and like a herd of belly hungry cattle, my desires for green grass deepens, forming into my voice which hurriedly writes out
“How I’ve missed you, Southern Queen
Your arms wide and stretched far
across your green lands”

My cold skin from the east coast gradually shedding away as the evening mosquitos of the southern heat suckle away my now fading winter memories.

Southern Queen with your ever welcoming grace: of your dwellers I have no immediate recollection but of your skin I have smelled before. With your pace defined, I remember your open roads.
My ears retuning its canal back to string played guitars and crooning voices telling tales of southern love and bar-fist fights.

Southern Queen, your open arms full of unforcing love; memories of the old days I spent with you comes flooding back.

“Stop right here,” you whisper into my ears.
Lost in the country side, only blue and green I see, of sky and of earth. Distant, across the fields where black cattle graze and brown horses pretend to fly, a small wooden house shaped like a hut made of clay sat amidst dog barks, chicken feather flapping, rattle snakes crackling. All melodies of the beauty within the bosom of your care.

Southern Queen, you know well the difference of highways and red sandy paths. Of tower-like buildings and hills of old tress, the difference you know well. Though of your dwellers intent I fail to remember but of your thickly formed heat, I remember well.

Southern Queen, in the heat amongst the low cut houses, you sing to me: pleading I stay here with you. Here away from the maddening mechanical ways of the east lands. You tell me of a place within your heart; full of water wells and ripened maize.

“Give me your labor tears, be you boy, girl, man, woman. Give to me a lake full of your pore-dripping sweat and to you I will reward with land to call home and plants for food. I ask for your sweat, only so I may refill my fountain during the conference of the golden sun and the coarse land.”

Simple World : Lucky Star

As the fumes bubble through the air, the music was just ripe and ready for the night. Giving back was never a hard thing, but the distance that was to be reached was everlasting. Further and further the bells rang, tomorrow never seemed far away. That point you have always dreamed of is here, waiting for you take hold. Break your soul and drink mortality. All you stand for holds no ground in this place of madness. The bridge is shaking and trembling, fear is no longer a choice. Walk away and it’s gone forever. Four seasons past, and you’re back to your roots. With a case full of identifications, you’re born afresh and anew, subject to the laws of covered deceit.

All I have is you, my words on screen, fonts describing my path. Since school is over for me, I’m left with a bag of passion, to fulfill those hard string dreams. Click – click, the fire that died in the morning of your demise is back, here again, re-ignited with a new name, calling you to see that no matter how much your drift, you can never hide from the bright rays of the sun. So stop been a buzz kill, pick your own road and walk that distance. The flames will surely be hot but in it burn till you become one with your calling. Never a wrong when you go with what’s in you. Free your mind, become limitless, and choose immortality. For the unknown is what becomes known when one dares to give it a name.

What do you fear? Those voices you seek refuse to be sought, so raise up with courage and go your own way. It can only be one, unique, splendid, weird, different, that’s your own chapter. It is written that to become one, you have to implode first and then all that comes out is you: pure you. The mind has been caged, locked away, a slave to another, so understand the world will never be understood. All one can do is explore the gifts, tokens which has been left for us to find. The pirates left their treasure in the island of cursed sirens for a reason. They wanted immortality, their names sang in hymns and books. Choirs dressed in white singing in a unison pitch all praising those men who refused the fear of other men.

Those of them you cannot count have their own cowries to share, but the few you have must be treasured and shown why they deserve to be with you. You have blinked, four seasons are gone, so leave it be and move on to the next rainy times. It’s hard to go on without a package of love strung on your side but to be emotionless means having, then giving away all emotions. To receive, you must dance to master the moves of the rhythm.

Words, words but all I want is to stop speeding and lose myself to dance. In time, the sounds become coherent. Life is moving, but remember it’s your life, you have the choice to stop the clock for a little dance. Be conformed and you will die lacking bravery. To bring a new flavor, first you must first taste peach to know your balance. Hang up the grief, its old my dear friend. It’s your own, forever yours. Make a name by going where you want to go. You know it, you were never destined to be a follower. You exist to break free and make people see those other hidden touches. Those ones that have been locked away in the garden of secrets. You have been there, that forgotten place no one dares ventures to. They might be a tourist, but you are a native, chosen to show everyone we all can exist without boundaries. You exist to show that life is not a cage to be trapped in. We are here existing to exalt every goodness we might find remaining. That’s why your voice is like no other. Weird, it is. But until a name is found, carry that bag for only you can know the weight it holds. If tomorrow comes and it’s unfamiliar, know you are in the right track. Just so you know suffering, hunger, pain are all part of the deal: the complete gift. To be balanced you might have to taste sand before the sugar. Even after the blisters, you might find out that sugar was not all that. The answer, that one thing that keeps you moving, that one thing that holds together your passion is nothing other than the real touch from love.

Simple World: After the Rain Edition

The night was here with the rain from the early morning. There was nothing but the drips of cloudy waters and the occasional tweets from a settling bird. Looking now, I knew the next chapter to my life was here; the wash away of my earlier mistakes. Looking forward, I had no idea of what the aftermath of the rain would be like or feel like. But this rain had the wind blowing nicely. It had me silent, thinking about all there was to come. Would the sun in the morning bring all my needed answers?
I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t.
The feel of this weather was all I cared for. It was my moment to sit and reflect of the coming times. To watch and hope the sun would later show; full blaze. With my shoes wet, I hummed the words of Mr. Marvin Gaye: “flying high in the friendly sky, without ever leavin’ the ground”. I sang it knowing there was no longer any sign of friendlessness in this world. Regardless, I enjoyed the wetness that fell from the starry blank sky.

Simple World Part II

And like that, he stood up and watched all eyes turned to him. Intimidated by the stares, he tried to create leeway through the crowd. The squishing got tighter by each movement. His suit was painted in red attracting those without colors to him.
He had to find another place, he thought. As he went into solace, he found the new sound, music it was, but unfamiliar; the birth of a new muse. The speculation was that the man in red had returned from the unknown. He had been elevated by the new muse to above and beyond plain ground.
The element had been made and a name was required. The power to create a space, a world, a lane, or a chassis is there for all to grasp. Still do what you think of. This is not a message from the hungry pulpit. The driven make those who taste bitter cringe until all they have left is to turn right and chew away: sweet sonic. Harsh reality, time passed quickly and he became the living evidence. A wide range to cover and conquer. Brace for the birth of Cocoa Sola.
How can you understand when you think time goes by the ways of the watch? Keep hold but free loose. Of course, the ground shook when the aliens came to earth. Foreigners of some kind, they enlightened those who choose to look with their already acquired powers. The aliens did not call it power, but as usual, folks can never phantom the light beyond the wires.
Their cars crashed on the covers that protect those from their own nightmares. Hovering in a singular pattern. Resonating uncalculated sounds. Those who remembered came out and spoke freely to the unhinged figures. The mind most lost could have been preventable if only the saying became a living proof.
The people saw forward and back without living here and there. The new anthem is: Real is fear. The description is in the lessons not the flowing down of necks. The taste is strong when the garnishing is left to those who refuse sweetness. Mixing chemicals failed the professor so he threw away all he had worked for. It rained and he wished for her to be here with him.
The girl was a sting, a second after. Drifting quietly inwards, the incitation chants rang deep till the dreams of a Lion was fully told. Now onto ink and matta.
Swollen Intermission, red eyes. Yes they know you now, fully blooded they call him. Always painted, they pointed. Agreed, but my infinite vision is beyond you definite thinking. Growth by each word; powers born to rage full in bright red.
My Arrival; hence the mission to bring a new world in this green and already recycled world.
Residing tide, reincarnated man
The suit lasted and lasted till it became pale in red. The origins of the man in red. Bathed with elevation, he was lifted with many more in-nights.

If the afternoon be kind to you, catch up with Simple World 1, by clicking here