InsArtTure
05-12-2009, 08:52 AM
There are three kinds of people really.
Some write, others severly try to write but it is not their thing and still others never write.
You can freely share your short stories, poetry, essays - anything. Preferrably in English.
Let us know you more and more. The more youread someone, the closer you get to his soul.
A piece I wrote about a friend:
Floating
Floating as I am indeed,
Firing a phase of my delusions far,
I wonder this – why!
Why have I devoured my insides…
It’s never been and never will it be
Any harder that it seems it is
To unravel anything of these worldly reasons
Why and who I am at all.
To one, to anyone, it’s clear now,
It’s nearly an overwhelming fear
To address yourself and ask yourself
If you’ve ever touched the reason’s tail.
And it is rough a fail to explore
Anything that bears its life in you
Since bound you are to meet denial
And your community will frown and bore.
But floating as I am in life
I often walk alone, think alone
And tell me, is it not the same with you?
When paths weave high and far from crowds and eyes?
That is when I hold my life and soul in hand
And play with them, and talk to them,
And people’s words and voices be past and hollow,
And leaves and trees are fellows to my heart…
In those peculiar moments of my being
All my fear fades and blurs into a new delusion smeary…
Some write, others severly try to write but it is not their thing and still others never write.
You can freely share your short stories, poetry, essays - anything. Preferrably in English.
Let us know you more and more. The more youread someone, the closer you get to his soul.
A piece I wrote about a friend:
Floating
Floating as I am indeed,
Firing a phase of my delusions far,
I wonder this – why!
Why have I devoured my insides…
It’s never been and never will it be
Any harder that it seems it is
To unravel anything of these worldly reasons
Why and who I am at all.
To one, to anyone, it’s clear now,
It’s nearly an overwhelming fear
To address yourself and ask yourself
If you’ve ever touched the reason’s tail.
And it is rough a fail to explore
Anything that bears its life in you
Since bound you are to meet denial
And your community will frown and bore.
But floating as I am in life
I often walk alone, think alone
And tell me, is it not the same with you?
When paths weave high and far from crowds and eyes?
That is when I hold my life and soul in hand
And play with them, and talk to them,
And people’s words and voices be past and hollow,
And leaves and trees are fellows to my heart…
In those peculiar moments of my being
All my fear fades and blurs into a new delusion smeary…