WaterI lap at your feet, welcoming you into my depths.Water7 years ago in Free Verse
Seducing your toes to step closer, wade further
Its a cool day, and I offer warmth and comfort
Begging you to swim, even though you know
That danger lurks with me
I entice your senses,
A single dance with the darkness
A sway into danger,
Cant be that bad,
WaterLuminous springs of purityWater7 years ago in Free Verse
like a song sung by God
calm blossoms of sweetness
the sensation will sweep us.
Our soul will revive,
dance spirit across the rain
drench us in our power,
beneath the sun shower.
Hands cupped to take a sip
as we're swam away by life
we jump into the river
left with but a shiver.
'The water touches her lips,
eyes widened as she sips,
never felt so pure,
the water was her cure.'
the wateri almost drowned a few years back that december.the water3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
you were making waves before i even hit the water
on a hill in hartford and elsewhere out east.
it's crazy to think we never would meet if it weren't for me
losing my cool and now i can't kick it, but fuck it.
it's as if it we're meant to be and you were meant for me;
both broken, we push it, and smile, and bullshit.
sometimes i skip rocks and she sings songs.
the tide turned sometime when you hit a different dialect,
a different tongue, my stomach turned, lines blurred,
i wanted to run or at least push myself into the pool.
sink or swim, crash and burn,
it's all the same, i live and learn,
but what's there to gain when the mistake isn't mine
and i'm still doing time staring at the water,
staring at the water,
staring at the water, i remember
i almost drowned a few years back.
WaterI give life and...Water6 years ago in Free Verse
I can take it away again.
A little of me is never enough,
but too much will kill you.
I am a sculptor,
carving new landscapes.
A mover of mountains,
even if only a few pebbles at a time.
I am a rare treasure,
a jewel in the desert,
though taken for granted
many other places.
I flow, I ripple,
I can freeze time.
I fall from the skies,
run from the mountains,
wash upon distant shores.
Complex and simple at turns.
A thing of reality and of myth.
The only thing I fear is man,
and what you do to me.
I am water...
Chinese Water TortureChinese Water Torture11 years ago in Free Verse
Chinese water torture
I could never figure you out.
Will I ever be able to?
You are…unintelligible to me.
But thoroughly, THOROUGHLY
An unwritten script…
The conclusion….if my discovery process continues on its
course, will not be in
my lifetime. You are
And while you exist, your discovery shall
I shall go
insane, I say…surely I shall
lose my mind if this goes on.
Nothing. No patterns. No signs…
No way for me to tell what will happen with
One day, love…
figure you out.
Will I still be inte
The Bride of the Water GodThe Bride of the Water God6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Beneath the still, silver waters
The god in eternal silence sleeps
Waiting for the ripple of crystal tears
To shatter the mirror of dreams.
Beyond the reach of endless streams
Lies a treasured, fleeting love
And as the starlight fades to embers
The heavens stir, forever weeping.
Ice rims the verges of his heart
Withholds the blessed rain unfallen
And yet, yet she comes to stay,
This sacrifice for a dying land.
Beneath the moon's argent rays
The night-blooming cereus wakes,
Warms the cold celestial hand
To gently touch her shining face.
Above the lush earth and sea
The unbound heavens whisper softly
Of this cherished mortal, beloved
Of the god whose heart she keeps.
soft as waterthis is the funeralsoft as water2 years ago in Free Verse
where grey ash spreads
& in the air, a traffic of kites stream across the horizon,
the ash of sails, ghostly non existent,
sails set wide, slicing across the Hudson river
the water heals itself
rescinding wounds, sowing back together the places
where edges meet, and we become soft as water
doves sow the horizon thus, weaving through the kites on fire
& the lovers on fire
and the burns and burns and ink stains
on quiet carpets
everything became a silent memory buried under graves
in the cemetery sails bloom in deathly renaissance.
overpopulation expands exponentially
underground, in empty spaces
(between the sand, rivers, dust storms)
waves recede and seagulls echo
and the shivering saline sea is rough
(baring our naked spines against the asphalt
of the shore, the seagulls soaring echo
more truth than we'll ever know)
they know about:
recessions, receding shorelines and horizons,
and men retreating within,
WaterStill as death, silent as the dark,Water3 years ago in Free Verse
Empty as the cold, it sits there.
There is has been for centuries,
seeing all, nothing seeing it.
It longs for one thing: company;
the one thing it will never get.
Nothing dares draw near its surface
in fear their eyes will be opened.
Not the swan, not the stars nor man.
Even the majestic mountains
Go to lengths to avoid its face.
In loneliness it waits longer
for the single brave creature
who will look into it, realize
the hidden truth, touch it with a
finger's tip, and cause uncalming,
calling, wondrous ripples.
But, until then, it waits.
Shallow WaterIt was just a little kiddie pool in the backyard, unlovely pink-and-yellow plastic under the hot summer sun. But on those nights when Mom came home from the swing shift tired and met Daddy sitting in the kitchen angry, it was Amy’s only sanctuary.Shallow Water2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
She wasn’t a sound sleeper. Her parents still talked about how it had taken her infant self six months to sleep more than two or three hours at a time. During the school year, when her life was full of classes and friends and sports, it was easier to drop off, but summer nights were always more difficult. They were hotter, for one thing, and the long, indolent, inactive days often left her feeling too tired to sleep.
But mostly, it was because her parents had their arguments at night, right when Mom got back from the station. Daddy would send Amy to bed -- or at least her room, to pretend to sleep -- hours before. Then he would wait, sitting at the kitchen table and facing the door like a judge, hands folded in front of him
water-colour emotionsyou can't buy happiness, but you can buy tea, and thats kind of the same thing. i've been told that i have a knot inside my chest,water-colour emotions3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes
like those of the inside of a tree truck, eternally circling and looping. thats kind of how it feels, heavy and unstoppable.
if i have a tree inside me, then maybe that could explain the shaking, its just the westerly winter winds blowing and
making my far too fragile limbs bend but never break. i soak the tea leaves into the roots that are deep within my
fleshy heart and hope the capillaries will carry to wherever the aches are most ingrained and unnatural.
mother told me three winters ago that she could read the leaves and tell me how my skin was going to grow
and how my head was going to think six summers from now. she told me that my precious head was ever tired
over nothing and my chests storm will ease after one final hurricane, that despite its best efforts will
not destroy me, simply leave my skin a little tougher and my m
cold watertrappedcold water3 years ago in Free Verse
in cold water
of apricot sheets
let me sink
broken veins of sea
and gemm'd seashells
come at me gently
i kiss more softly
WaterWater just reflects -Water5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern
it cannot give back what it
has never been shown.
WaterAll I asked was for a single glass of water. A glass, a cup, an ounce, a single drop would be enough. I knew you could see me dying there, my body draining itself of whatever resources were left, I know you heard me crying in the night, wasting precious tears in the hope of a little mercy. I licked them away as they fell as best as I could. I couldn't afford to waste them. It was a wonder I could produce tears at all, and there came a day when they finally stopped.Water6 years ago in General Fiction
And I thought you had broke, when you came to me in the day, when the sun stole what little I tried to preserve. You held the thing I craved, you held life as far as I was concerned, and I drank without thinking, and you watched as I threw it up and convulsed. You tipped over a bucket of rainwater and watched me lap it up from the floor like a dog.
I asked for food. A crust, a crumb, anything to end the pain in my stomach. You gave me meat, stinking and crawling with maggots. You gave me bread hard as stone, my feeble
in the waterin the water7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
He will be forgiven for his silence.
She saw the the sun this morning
it is a beautiful sunny day.
But he still makes her heart heavy as a storm.
He will be forgiven for his words.
That night the moon was shining so bright
but he still makes her heart so dark and obscure.
There is something there in her chest that hurts like hell.
Moon, hell, sun, storm.
I promise you.
These are eternal.
These are strong day after day, weeks after weeks, years after years.
I promise you too.
She wish she can be a stone
because the pain runs in her blood like poison,
Driving her mind crazy.
She is lost.
She is so lost.
She is super extra mega ultra lost.
He will be forgiven for his words.
The girl is looking at the sea now,
In peace with herself.
She knows what to do.
It is so clear now!
She smiles when she reaches the cold winter water.
She cant swim.
She knows she will be with him one day.
He will be forgiven for his words.
Shadow WaterWater flows in one direction. It never stills. It doesn't matter if it seems quiet. Deep beneath the surface, there is one ripple still flowing in that one direction.Shadow Water9 years ago in Fan Fiction
That direction is down.
Shadows flee in one direction. Unlike water, however, they sometimes still, and they are always quiet. This is what makes the heartless so feared. They flee from the light, like shadows, but instinct drives them to destroy that thing that they fear most.
Now, what if water and darkness were mixed? What would happen to the water? Could it attack like the heartless? Or would it continue to flow determinedly downward?
I still have no idea what brought this cascade of thoughts down upon me that day. Maybe it was the way the light struck the ocean, sending shafts of green-gold light piercing down through the surface and into the dark depths below. Maybe it was the way that as time wen
The color of waterHe takes my hand and plants heat in my palm.The color of water7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives
Hurry, hurry, he urges me and his voice is distant and warm.
Its June but there are no crickets chirping. The air has turned into tulle and swallows veil themselves in pink and gray. The ground opens greedy under our feet as we run, we stumble into her hunger for moons and craters, for dirt. Its swollen and clods like balloons creak in the dense dusk and fill the clouds. We spoon them in our soles, the rain forks them. Were cols of paper, flushes of spilt milk and our lines disappear as the water keeps overwriting. Were bronchi, fleshy and bloody and white with air and the air thumps around us like a big heart, dipping into the ground and popping out as she spits it, crying all the names of the sun. It embraces her like a lusty lover, howling, moaning, screaming, returns her to her most savage and frantic desire breathe, breathe, breathe. A million little lungs.
He drags me into the small hut and we
Train Under WaterBrother,Train Under Water7 years ago in Short Stories
I'm writing to tell you I'm dropping out of college; I haven't told anyone. I'm twitching, Michael. The hunger came back a few weeks ago, and I'm not sure it ever left. Regardless, it's crying now, and I need to go. I need to keep moving on. I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow. My train takes off in the afternoon, and when I get there, I'll leave again. I want to go somewhere new, Michael.
I want to go somewhere I have never seen before.
Now, I know you have to be worried, but don't, Brother. Don't you be afraid. I'll write to you wherever I go. I won't leave a return address, please don't try to follow me. You can't, Michael, you're too smart. Your place is here among these people; and mine is out there. You're meant for your books; I'm meant for my trees. I want to roar from the woods with a pen mightier than He
Water of LifeWater of Life10 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
It had been eighteen years since they'd seen their home world. Eighteen years since the earth had lain before them vibrant and blue. They had come home, and brought with them the water of life, salvation for a world in need. They'd left a desperate band of men with a mission, journeyed the stars as beggars, then thieves, and ultimately destroyers to return home to be heroes.
'Orbital control, this is the Lazarus on return approach, we're inbound heavy looking for our vector, over'
Nothing but silence greeted their request.
Earth was being consumed by a terrible plague when they had left, a plague that destroyed the infected from the inside. The doctors needed fresh blood, in great quantities in order to transfuse, and to synthesize the antibodies that had been cleaned from their blood through the generations. They had dug up a horrific judgement of a great many years ago, and no one was immune anymore. A disease their ancestors would have thought nothing of now st
The water, and everything-to VirginiaThe water, and everything4 years ago in Free Verse
The river needed you, pockets stone-heavy
and gray as cloud as you walked, sailing,
to the lighthouse. You were Rhoda
in her paper boats, fleet sinking one
by one by one by one by one more until
tempest-stressed, you sank, slipping
timid through the rocks, toes rooted
beneath the water, beneath the earth--
to that space, where everything is linked
to everything else and everything
before and everything after, and every
moment is a trick of the light captured
only in that moment alone, and to be nothing
is to be everything and everyone, and that
moment's end is the end of a person
and, consequently, the world itself--and you
immersed yourself in its current,
ears brimming with the pulse
of the monster further down the river,
the monster stomping on the beach
where the river opened to the beast,
and you drowned. The river continued
through night and on, to that place
where sky and ocean are reflections
of one another, where there is no line
dividing them, where gray meets gr
Fire and WaterIt was raining in Lancaster on September 3rd 1555, and Jane Ask loved the earthy smell that it coaxed out of the soil.Fire and Water3 years ago in Short Stories
She wiped away the sheen of rainwater from her forehead with the back of her hand and set her small basket of nettles down by the front door. Later she would dry out the leaves and reduce them to a powder; the substance worked wonders on small wounds which refused to stop bleeding.
Jane had always been something of an herbalist. Growing up with only a father, and two older brothers from his first marriage, she had spent the majority of her childhood outdoors. Now practically a spinster at the age of twenty-two, she knew the Lancashire countryside as though it were the dearest friend, and for years now its other residents had come to her for aid. She knew which plants could heal or, if nothing were to be done, could simply ward off the pain.
She sniffed, wiping a drop of cold rainwater off the end of her nose, and looked across her herb garden at Sally. Sally was her co
My lover has water running through her veinsShe flows around stone and quenches firesMy lover has water running through her veins1 year ago in Free Verse
her voice showers like rain on a spring night
and feels so gentle that people misunderstand
They mistake water for weakness
and she indiscriminately swallows garbage
letting words stagnate and pollute her
She tells me ”Baby, I don’t have that passion you do
your fire is so wonderful and brilliant”
and I want to cry because even water can sear and turn to steam
My oceanbaby, you don’t need the tiny flame in me
the sea is home to the largest creatures in the world
and rivers reduce mountains to sandstone
I want you to roar like crashing waves
and let the world know you have the power
to drown mankind
fire, or waterfire, or water7 years ago in Free Verse
were this blurred, we'd be submerged,
stuck under the waves
with warping colours & corals falling away
from a certain blue surface, where white animals are climbing.
hot & cold climb the same ladder into the eye
and we see everything sharper:
today there are sky-flags, halfway tattered.
browns & sea-thinned greens, then reds & great flames
but the starving stag, steaming in the cracked courtyard
says blue is autumn's secret favourite, the colour of bruise & ozone & iris.
a leaf can fall like a cracked mast, or a dead bird meant for the ground
where the plummet loves death's rest; or simply a painted sail
that dispels the break of landlocked bone
& breaks the windy hierarchy of leaves ― a mess of fire, or water.
but this wading one-hand-clap falls like a berry
too ripe to maintain the grip
of its slim stalk limb,
here it cannot echo
or be poisonous.
Lady of the WaterDrop by drop, the sky weepsLady of the Water4 years ago in Free Verse
its blue glory to the golden fields
old vows are made to this veil of rain
where the colours of my love lie down to sleep, again
argent and purple in velveteen dreams
entwining the rich silk of the evergreen heather
claimed by a crown of wild flowers
an intricate cradle of rainbow made for hearts
duelling gods their music leaves
a fragrant and enchanted spell released
golden apple seeds and oak leaves
to catch the pale glow of souls
the raw-silver of the moon brings
a web weaved of new springs
mosses stones and chanting pebbles
reveals in pure clarity - the Lady of the Water
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.
Water :PoliceEnglandxReader:- _____! What are you doing here? You turned to see your friend Eduard smiling at you. You close the book you were reading and returned the smile. Hello Ed! I went here to give back a book to the library, but then I saw this awesome book andWater :PoliceEnglandxReader:4 years ago in Short Stories
- I see, but hurry up, the library is closing!
You looked at him surprised. Closing? You looked at your watch: it were six p.m. You were shocked: you spent about three hours in the library! You jumped up quickly greeting Eduard and ran outside. When you finally got out, you were attacked by a violent downpour. The rain was really thick, the streets was full of water but you needed to go home, so you took a bus. All of sudden the bus stopped. You asked: - Why we stopped? The driver shrugged: - There's too many water, we can't move forward.
You got out from the bus; the streets were flood. You tried to walk a bit, but you got stuck. The people was running here and there, and a policeman was trying to calm down