SoulCollectors Weekly Feature...This week we love to feature our talented friend AlMaNeGrA :iconAlMaNeGrA: as member of the week. He's a very talented professional Digital Artist!
We want to welcome our new members and appreciate all your wonderful works you've submitted
:iconspreadmoreloveplz: Photomanipulation :iconspreadmoreloveplz:
:iconspreadmoreloveplz: Photography :iconspreadmoreloveplz:
:iconspreadmoreloveplz: Digital Painting - Vector :iconspreadmoreloveplz:
Ignite by escume Slurp by Sylvanor Botanical Neuroentomology for Beginners by ChaosKatie Patrick Jane The Mentalist by Amro0 Phantasmal Familiar by autumnsmuse
:iconspreadmoreloveplz: Traditional :iconspreadmoreloveplz:
:thumb332867866: The queen of sins by Asthenot You'll never know how I feel by AnnaArmona The Sword and the Harp by Gold-Seven
In the field of dreams...The nurturing love in our lives,In the field of dreams...7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
given to us unconditionally
it's to be treasured.
Draw near those who love you,
and rejoice in their presence,
for the absent, there are dreams.
dreams of petals cover fields and embraces,
past the horizon, where everything is now and remains for ever.
where you close your eyes and everything is possible,
where you lay in the dew of caresses
and the touches that lightly scratch are wanted and desirable.
My gift to youMy gift to you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will tear
the veil of the night
and reach out for you.
I will dress your
Desire with satisfaction,
Your night would be
No longer dark,
And when you look at the sky
I will be the moon,
that bathes you, with light.
My arms will soothe you, to sleep,
my voice will be
the instrument with which
you play peace.
My body itself, the canvas
for your craft.
Come darling, the night
is short and soon
we will awake.
When the sun is reborn.
So little our time,
So much I have to give you...
Take my eyes
at the moment of your departure
so they can light up
Take my heart
and you will always be loved.
Drink my voice
and I will speak to you
in your dreams.
Make love to my senses
so that I can feel you
in every shape and form.
And when your body
is drunk from my essence
drink of me once more.
Who am I?Who am I?Who am I?3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
There are probably many people who ponder this question
Who am I?
Some of them know it
They call themselves 'Barbie'
But does the label say something about who they are?
It gives enough detail to which social stratum they belong to,
But my question is whether their heart is in for what they do?
Are they really the person they pretend to be?
Or are people what they say?
I wish I knew the answer,
Because I would really like to know why I am called special,
And what special means,
For I am not a pink Barbie doll or very attractive,
I think I might be what others categorize as weird,
And so what,
I am who I am,
Can you say the same?
I sadly know so many that base their life on lies
And sometimes I have to admit I would like to walk in their shoes
Just for one single day
Be a liar
And for just one day exceed all limits
Just to learn more about myself
Right now, I don´t know myself
Forgiveness...!Forgiveness is hot cocoa inForgiveness...!5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the winter of your soul,
It warms up your heavy heart
now tired and defeated,
In the harm caused by others
and your shame
from past mistakes,
Oh yes, forgive yourself
as much as you should forgive
those who wrong you,
our judgement of self can inflict as much If no more pain
as the negative views of others of our persona.
Forgiveness is the beginning
of a meaningful life,
Forgiveness is the mother
to which hope is born...
If hope is the light
that illuminates our way
Forgiveness is the match
that ignites it.
Beauty, light and fulfillment
can not grow in a soil
filled with rancorous feelings towards others
then rained over with regrets.
Forgiveness is a path
In which if nothing else
at least you have give yourself
Germany's Song- Give Me a ChanceGermany's Song- Give Me a Chance4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
All my life, it's been a struggle
Heck, I never even knew where to start
I needed to have, someone to guide me
Then again don't we all?
Perhaps I was a little too forceful
I wanted everything in the world
But as I held everything tighter
It all slipped through my fingers like sand
Why does everyone seem to hate me?
Why does no one even care?
Is it cuz my hair's blond?
And my eyes are sky blue?
Is it cuz of what they did way back when?
To be perfectly honest, I get what you're saying
But please, world, give me a chance!
I've only begun stitching my wounds.
Please, please, give me just one small chance,
To make things right, to take back the lies
And to make things right, yes to make things right.
It all started back, when I was yey tall
Oh the holy roman days
The empire thrived, and I felt so alive
And then I met the one I loved.
But then the years passed, and I had to go
I didn't want to leave him behind
I knew he was scared, and I felt alone
I knew I'd lost a part of my soul
Intro to Game of ThronesSTORYLINEIntro to Game of Thrones2 years ago in Romance More Like This
For eleven years, the land of Westeros has been at peace, with King Robert Baratheon and queen Cercei reigning at King’s Landing in the south. King Robert decides one day to go visit his friend Lord Eddard Stark, who once helped him win the Iron Throne. Eddard Stark lives at Winterfell, a castle far in the north. With a full entourage and their son Joffrey, and it takes them a month to reach Winterfell.
Since the last war, Eddard Stark has lived a quiet life at Winterfell, not wanting to be caught in the court’s intrigues. He feels uneasy about the King’s unexpected visit, and as soon as they are alone together, the King asks Eddard for his help, saying that he needs him as his Hand. The former Hand has died mysteriously and he says that he is surrounded by traitors and that he trusts only Eddard. Eddard reflects on that, and while reluctant to accept, he does, out of a sense of duty to his old friend. At the same time, the King wishes to have his son
This War Called LifeLife's a battle, a war to be foughtThis War Called Life4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There's casualties that come with this war, this never ending fight
Some things die without a matter in the world, they don't make a difference
But some of these casualties cause further conflict
Some things make the war worse, like the bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki
Those bombs killed so many, and left permanent marks
Those who didn't die were scarred forever,
From the burns and the memories
But then, there's the trenches, the death and rats
Both sides, fighting, always fighting, winning some and losing some
You gain some ground, thinking you've got the upper hand, only to have it taken from you
Neither side willing to accept surrender, neither side willing to wave a white flag
You feel like you can't breath, the smoke and dust and blood choking you
Oh so much blood, so much pain and suffering, so much blood from your wounds
Bullets fly around you, every one a threat to your life, each one an intention to harm
One bullet hits you, you react the onl
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?Mental Disorder Discrimination1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
Sleep Little FlowersSleep Little Flowers3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Sleep, Little Flowers
Sleep, until Spring
The Winter Winds are coming
Who knows what they will bring?
Tomorrow is Tomorrow
Today is Today
Yesterday is a mem'ry
Just fading away
Sleep, Little Flowers
Sleep, until Spring
The Winter Wind is with us now
Hear the cold winds sing?
Sorrow is Sorrowed
Lover is Belov'd
Let us light the candles
Remember we are loved
Sleep, Little Flowers
Sleep, until Spring
When the cold ice melts
The young song birds, they will sing
Four thousand years
Just like yesterday
Stop for a moment
Hear this wand'r pray
Wake, Little Flowers
The winter time is passed
Here are the joyous days
Come to us at last
The Melody is memories
The Singer is the Song
The Road to Jeruselem
Has been here all along
Yes, Wake, Little Flowers
The Spring is fin'ly here
A Rainbow is shining now o'r'
A sky brimmed with joyful tears
The image in the likeness
The doer in the Deed
The Truth of life is simple
Love is all you need.
Wake, little flowers
Hear this simple song
I, who, am unworthy
A Bevy of DeerThey followed me through the pages, tiptoeing on delicate feet across the letter-fields. Mechanical doe-eyes whirred at me, snapping pictures with tawny shutters blinking blackness, watching for me to turn around and figure them out. I didn't stop, I couldn't. I was never good enough to please them, so I tapped aimlessly with my fingers and scrawled with a pencil and teased the keys of the horn I'd long-forgotten how to play. Pairs of metal ears would pivot, first toward the notes, then pulled back away from them, indifferent yet tired of waiting for me to riddle them out. They followed me through the pages, popping in now and then to remind me they were there. I tried weaving them into a story, but nothing fit. Nothing ever did, until I stopped and set everything else aside and let them tell me what they wanted me to say.A Bevy of Deer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Letting go...You let me go...Letting go...7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
did you let me go?
Because I feel the cold wind
dancing this way.
Did you let me go?
because your voice
don't caress my ears,
and I feel the transit
in my face of sad tears.
Like a balloon in the hands
of a child, that he truly likes
and is really exciting
but at some point he lets it go,
floating up, floating up,
he looks at it now, with tears in his eyes
he wishes he did not let it go
but thankfully his sadness last so little,
as he finds comfort somewhere else.
I float now upward in despair
and wishing a thousand parties
in your name, a happy stay and pretty smiles.
As I disappear into thin air
wishing you more than ever
wishing, no more tears in your face.
Wishing that you are happy over there.
How beautiful it is to be child-like
and enjoy the day as it comes,
sometimes crying for the sad little things
but quickly finding a smile to give,
Not holding on too tight,
more like dream hopping,
knowing that no matter
Time and DeathTime and Death4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time & Death
By: Margheritta M Tessitore
Time and death... where does one begin and the other end?
Time has no start and has no end. it tick tick ticks right on through.
Death has no start, only an end.
Time is sweet, yet fleeting they say and that when we die time stops.
Death has no time to strike, it just does.
Young, middle aged, or old, we all have our time.
Young, middle aged, or old, we all die.
Time and Death... What is there to say...
Our clocks all stop when we die... so it must be true, time does stop, for those who die...
But questions it leaves behind:
Why me? I still had to much left to do...(if its you)
Why them? so full of life...(for the young)
Why them? They still had much ahead...(for the middle aged)
Why them? I just wanted a little more time with them... (For the old)
What life could I have lead? (If its you)
What would they have done? (for the young)
Where would they have gone? (For the middle age)
Why could I have not put my first child
My Lady GreensleevesMy Lady Greensleeves4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
England walked up the stairs to the second floor, his carefully timed footsteps making as little noise as possible on the wood that lay beneath the carpet. When Arthur rounded the corner, he expected to see his bedroom door closed, the ancient chipping white paint on the door frames, everything like it always was. What the European nation did not expect to see was the huddled figure in front of Rebecca's bedroom door. At first he thought it was the young brunette, but she wasn't home yet from school; he would've seen her multicolored messenger bag on the couch in the front room. He recognized the person at once; the moment he saw the head of shoulder length sandy blond hair that was kissed with natural highlights, he knew at once that it was Tessa. Arthur smiled and opened his mouth to utter a greeting, but he stopped when he noticed the unusual atmosphere that hung around the girl. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, and her head was sitting in them
Chains of freedom chains of freedom,Chains of freedom 7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
for it is true, that every thing
bares a tag and with it, a price.
Life itself comes from an exchange,
and equally a ransom for it, was paid.
I'll now buy the wings that I lost,
once upon a time.
I drink from the chalice of knowledge,
but I'll pay for it with my life,
for as you see every thing has a price.
What is your wager?
And I'll bargain with your masters,
for your freedom and I will not keep you,
your debt to me is a promise.
A journey you must take,
it will only be as far as you need it to be,
You must travel deep inside yourself
and get to know... You,
the you that was meant to be,
You must learn that freedom merely
starts once your chains are broken,
the ignorance of self is indeed the
My reward will be to see you shine,
once you do, you would have reward me
the ultimate price.
Seeing upon an once oppressed face
a ray of sunshine
diary of Anne frank responseThis diary proved that anyone, even a thirteen year old girl, can overcome a situation such as this one. She overcame the Holocaust that deserves a couple of cheers. Anne Frank the Diary of a Young Girl is inspiring with a dash of charming ideas that somehow still makes streams of tears fill eyes of millions. Why? Because after all the horrid things that happened to her she never lost hope. Now thats amazing.diary of Anne frank response7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Anne was so clearly unhappy and that was because she was taken out of her environment and disliked The Annexe from the beginning. She had to have her mouth on lock down and stay inside the secret annexe because of a man named Hitler. I dont think I shall ever really feel at home in this home.( pg 17 ) This sentence that was pulled out of the book proves she disliked The Annexe to start off with.
Fortunately her idea of the temporary home was slowly roasted into a certain liking of
Choosing your path...From the pain and the suffering endured in one's early life,Choosing your path...7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
one day if you search for the deeper understanding of yourself
you will realize, it was the necessary key to open the doors of empathy,
the doors of love for yourself, for your brothers, sisters and life itself.
The eye opening experience that puts you in contact
with your greater self and provides a bridge to more fulfilling experiences.
It is important to remember that once the door is open
it will remain the same if you so desire it and the light will never cease to shine,
so there is no need for the figurative key, from suffering any longer,
you must now let go of it, as an act and expression of understanding and forgiveness
to those whom you feel wronged by, holding on to the negative energy will only cause you harm
and more suffering.
So remember the door is now open and the price
was waged in blood and tears,
it is now your opportunity to chose:
Forgiveness and light,
or resentment and dark...
In the multitude of sand...I can only be the me that I knowIn the multitude of sand...1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the one that I will become
with the passing years on this earth,
if you would like me other wise,
what mystery would you have me be?
What pages of stories would I fill?
I am but a grain of sand
undiscovered on the beach
amongst all my siblings
and the sun in the horizon
the spark from which I came...
And I wonder as I lay in the multitude,
would I ever return to my origin...?
...Will you, my brother amongst all others?
The sun sets in it's accustom horizon
and my universe gets cold and
beneath my body all warmth is gone.
I look at the stars which from my grounded perspective
look as small as me and the blue calms me and soothes my loneliness
and it's twinkles are like a calling from my home.
Where would you be if I left?
If I close my eyes and ease my body from
beneath my siblings weight...
and let the wind take me home to the stars...
Would you miss me, would you know that I was gone?
The First KissIt wasn't even past eight when she ran into her room. She didn't bother and change her clothes as she simply slid under the covers. She cocooned herself in her bed hurriedly, unable to hold back the smile that crept up her face. She knew that she had acquired a new set of dreams this evening. Dreams that will be haunting her for a very long time.The First Kiss2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She'd banished every other memory on her way home. This one dream was so majestic it seemed unfit to share anything with it. She feared a picture of her precious moment would seep through the smile she couldn't hide and someone would catch it and drag her back into the dull silent world.
It was a kiss that lasted seconds, but in her head it was a cinematic that went on for hours. Her heart pounded so viciously to the point she thought the sound alone could fill the entire world around her. She recalled her kiss, a blush creeping on her cheeks.
She closed her eyes tightly as she stirred in bed. Maybe her dream will go on
Journey of a Coin.Penny's life started just like every other coin's long life: having been melted, flattened, punched and inscribed, she was finally born into the world in 1971. Along with her 1,521,666,250 sisters, Penny was introduced to a new life of travels and adventures and hardships, beginning in the bottom of a Tesco cash drawer.Journey of a Coin.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was lonely there, certainly not one of the high points of her existence: none of the other pennies were particularly verbose and the majority of them were dull, rusted and squalid. However, as one of the newest coins on top of the heap, Penny didn't have to stay there long.
On her first day on the job, she found a new home in the hands of a four-year old boy: his hands were sticky and grubby and soon both of Penny's shiny faces were thick with a mixture of soil, saliva and sugar. It was almost a relief when he set her on the counter in his kitchen, but when the child's mother came into the room and beat him violently for taking ten pence from the coin tin, Penny wish
Your StoryI'd much rather cry for youYour Story3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
'Cause my story is too painful to share
I'd much rather smile for you
'Cause my story is too painful to bare
So come here and I'll wrap my arms around you
Come here and I'll let your story shine
But after you share your story
Please don't ask me about mine
If only I could play the violin
I'd share my past through sorrowful chords
Vibrato on strings would be my voice
Fighting my demons with imaginary swords
Although I'm limited to words on paper
And the words aren't sung by a beautiful voice
These words make my story into a song
And this song confronts you with a choice
You can close your eyes
And pretend this is a fairytale
Pretend it's a meaningless story
That was never once true
Or you can open your eyes
And realise deep down
That the story isn't just about me
That you're the main character too
If you don't want to tell your story
As it is, spoken word to word
Turn your art into your voice
And you will always be heard
A picture speaks a thousand words
Happy BirthdayHappy BirthdayHappy Birthday2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Lizzie woke up at dawn. She was too excited to sleep. Normally Saturdays were her sleep in day, but today was special. Today was her mommy’s birthday.
Her daddy was going to be so proud of her as he didn’t have to tell her to wake up, to not sleep the day away. Today she was a big girl, able to do for herself. She was now 8 years old, no longer a baby, daddy told her so. With that in mind, she was going to dress herself and do her own hair.
Even though Lizzie had not seen her mommy in a long time, she could still remember how beautiful she was. She remembered how her mommy smelled, always of vanilla. Mommy used to tell her it was because she was in the kitchen all day baking. Lizzie did not really understand this, but she didn’t want her mommy to think of her like a baby anymore, so Lizzie would just nod and tell mommy how much she loved the smell. It reminded he
Sleepless night and vigilant wait...Sleepless nightsSleepless night and vigilant wait...7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and vigilant wait,
wondering how is it
that it got this way...
Children now cry in terror
because we have forsake them,
we are less and less being able
to protect them,
And I cry to the skies
searching for a world without
all these mind pollutions.
Men grow large in insensitivity
leaving the little ones
without love or security.
And I wonder how is it...
We got this way.
Seeing in the little ones
the true face of pain.
When did we undressed
ourselves of humanity,
of our love and the sense of union?
When did we become scattered pieces,
mindless bodies searching for nothing,
destroying our homes, our brothers and sisters
our precious children,
What is there to gain,
by taking so many innocent lives?
killing our future mercilessly...
and vigilant wait
for the moment
that for ever, this place change...
Where the blood of innocent children
is spilled no longer,
where a father can stay
and watch his children play.
MirrorWho am I?Mirror4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who are you?
Deep down, who is anyone, really?
People talk about finding their true identity, finding themselves, but in reality, we just find the disguise that we're most comfortable with. The person we find easiest to act.
Shakespeare once said "All The World's A Stage"
And he was 100% right.
The whole world is a set, which we play on. We act out life without ever truly living.
Now, I don't know what living is,
Or how to find "yourself"
But I do know that the only way we could ever discover our identity
Is if we lived completely isolated
Without ever interacting with civilisation
If we never knew friends
If we had never been influenced by society.
If you had never even laid eyes on another human being
Only then, can you find out what you are.
Call me pessimistic, or anything equivalent,
But "who we are"
Is simply a reflection of who we were raised to be.