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Cafe Outlook

Welcome to The Poetry Cafe!

Have you ever found yourself lingering in the realm of dreams as you wake up and engage in the hustle 'n' bustle of everyday life? Find your mind wandering to a world that's full of fantasy and all things that, outside of your subconscious, are seemingly unimaginable? If you'd like to share your fantasy domain and give insight to your dreams, hopes and ambitions, then this is surely the home for you.

This should be a place for fellow deviants to come and share their poetry, get feedback and tips as well as get your work noticed by other writers and poetry lovers!

If you would like feedback on a specific work, please feel free to message to asking for feedback. We would be more then happy to aid you in your writing in anyway possible.


1. Introduction
2. Love
3. Light
4. Dark
5. Seeking Solace
6. Break Away
7. Heaven
8. Innocence
9. Drive
10. Breathe Again
11. Memory
12. Insanity
13. Misfortune
14. Smile
15. Silence
16. Questioning
17. Blood
18. Rainbow
19. Gray
20. Fortitude
21. Vacation
22. Mother Nature
23. Cat
24. No Time
25. Trouble Lurking
26. Tears
27. Foreign
28. Sorrow
29. Happiness
30. Under the Rain
31. Flowers
32. Night
33. Expectations
34. Stars
35. Hold My Hand
36. Precious Treasure
37. Eyes
38. Abandoned
39. Dreams
40. Rated
41. Teamwork
42. Standing Still
43. Dying
44. Two Roads
45. Illusion
46. Family
47. Creation
48. Childhood
49. Stripes
50. Breaking the Rules
51. Sport
52. Deep in Thought
53. Keeping a Secret
54. Tower
55. Waiting
56. Danger Ahead
57. Sacrifice
58. Kick in the Head
59. No Way Out
60. Rejection
61. Fairy Tale
62. Magic
63. Do Not Disturb
64. Multitasking
65. Horror
66. Traps
67. Playing the Melody
68. Hero
69. Annoyance
70. 67%
71. Obsession
72. Mischief Managed
73. I Can't
74. Are You Challenging Me?
75. Mirror
76. Broken Pieces
77. Test
78. Drink
79. Starvation
80. Words
81. Pen and Paper
82. Can You Hear Me?
83. Heal
84. Out Cold
85. Spiral
86. Seeing Red
87. Food
88. Pain
89. Through the Fire
90. Triangle
91. Drowning
92. All That I Have
93. Give Up
94. Last Hope
95. Advertisement
96. In the Storm
97. Safety First
98. Puzzle
99. Solitude
100. Relaxation

The goal is to be the first to accomplish this challenge. Write a poem about each of the 100 themes listed above, there isn't really any guide lines to it.. Just write what comes to you. Happy Writing.




Gallery Folders

Cafe Poetry 7
Shifted Story GearsScientists threw what they perceived as a bunch of rusty metal and junk right beside a sign on the outskirts to their city that read, “Welcome to Smudge— Home to the legendary Steam Brooks Lab” with the note attached underneath, “Under New Management.”* * * * * * * * * * * * *A young mechanic on her evening journey home (after the completion of a grueling project) found an old robot scattered into limbs and parts abandoned beside a welcome sign among an assortment of shattered bottles empty food wrappers soda cans broken appliances deflated tires and unmarked steel barrels.* * * * * * * * * * * * *A dream played out in the memory of a lab assistant built by an inventor and scientist with a kind face and dimpled cheeks who the assistant helped in her projects and repairs and vaguely noticed as she grew older and older more wizened and hunched while the scientists she employed increased in number shifted from serene to severe and their simple lab expanded change after another until… the day… his creator was… gone.* * * * * * * * * * * * * A robot woke up on the wooden worktable in the loft space of a tumbledown barn— that belonged to a tired but enthusiastic mechanic (dressed in overalls and sturdy work boots) who encouraged him to wiggle his tube-like arms flex his rubber glove hands dig through his toolbox contents (contained within his spacious box-shaped body) and swivel his globe-shaped head …then apologized for his continued lack of legs (which she made up for with straps that would allow the mechanic to carry him around like a backpack).* * * * * * * * * * * * *A mechanic named Myra Ratchet introduced herself to a robotic lab assistant called Gearbox and proposed a new life on the road for them both as mechanics-for-hire and freelancers who roamed from one location to the next to fix machinery long neglected in distant locations and help the people there.* * * * * * * * * * * * *Two companions left a decrepit barn to cut their own path across a barren plain away from a vast city where steam and smoke from factories filled the skies and the noises of massive pumps and assembly lines echoed in a regular rhythm throughout the day and night— while a spiraling tower topped by a purplish globe loomed at its center.* * * * * * * * * * * * *Two travelers went forth into a world the mechanic had only heard tales about from beloved people the robot had never known …together to discover new stories they would make for themselves.
Aubade by Lycaenyx
Cafe Poetry 6
Cafe Poetry 5
Cafe Poetry 4
Cafe Poetry 3
Cafe Poetry 2
Cafe Poetry 1
Stories and Short Stories
Identity WipeOriginal Identity: Sandra Lirik“There’s no way you can help me vanish tonight?” “I’m sorry, ma’am.” The coordinator tilted his head to face Sandra as they walked down the dimly lit hallway. His narrow eyes crinkled in an apologetic smile. “Tomorrow afternoon is the best we can do.”Sandra tossed her long, wavy hair behind her shoulder with a frustrated flick. Her manicured fingers dug into the strap of her bulging handbag. “And no one will find me here?”“Yes.” Coming to a stop at a metallic door, he pressed his palm on the reader. The door slid open with a whoosh. He gestured with a flourish to the opened room. “Please stay here tonight.”She pursed her luscious lips, eyeing the coordinator with a raised eyebrow. When he didn’t budge, she sighed and entered the room. The space was utilitarian with a kitchen bar to the far right, a corridor leading to more rooms, and a large living room on the left.Seated in the corner were a young man and a teenage girl. Her eyes widened. She spun around to give the coordinator a piece of her mind but the door whooshed back into place. The locking of the deadbolt echoed in the expanse.“Come join us,” the man called out. “I know it wasn’t what you expected but the guy said they were having budget problems.”Biting on her bottom lip, she turned with a huff. The man’s eyes twinkled as he beckoned her over. She stalked over to the group of couches and beanbags that lay scattered on the floor. The click of her stilettos on the floor made the teenage girl wince and shrink further into her seat.Sandra dropped into one of the couches and folded her arms across her chest. “Just because they don’t have enough money, they decide to put us Runners together in the same shithole?”The man’s lips twisted into a cringe. He shrugged. “I guess that’s the price we have to pay for an illegal Identity Wipe company.”“Great,” she mumbled. “So what's next?”“Something about taking a pill to rewrite our biological identifiers.”Sandra twisted her head to look at the corridor leading towards, what she assumed were, the bedrooms. “I’m going to check those out.”“We tried,” a soft feminine voice piped up.Sandra turned back to see the teenage girl’s eyes flit away from her. “What?”“There’s a glass door. We tried the reader but it denies us access,” the man explained.She frowned. “Why would they do that?”“Beats me,” he chuckled. “So they rewrote your identity profile already?”“Yeah. You?”“Same.”She activated her ocular program and a translucent box popped up over his head. It listed his name as Tom Le Ocip and his occupation as Actor. His new rating was a solid 4.6 but his age was off. She pointed to the box. “You’re 228 years old?”Tom laughed. “Oh no. Apparently, it takes some time to rewrite the profile. In the meantime, some old data is retained in weird ways.”He pointed to the box that hung over her head. “So your new name is.. Lynn? Sweet. But..” He frowned. “For a rating of 4.2, cam girl seems like the wrong occupation.”She stiffened. Catching her reaction, he flashed an empathetic smile. “It’s okay. I think I understand why you’re running now.”“How about you?” he turned to the teen whose hands were wrapped around her knees.Sandra read the girl’s profile - her new name was Kyler Verenge, occupation was Student, and rating was 4.75. Her eyes softened. It must be hard for a young girl to restart her life under a different identity. She murmured, “Kyler is a beautiful name.”The girl met her gaze. Anger flashed in her eyes. Her lips quivered. “That’s my real name.”Startled, Sandra’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I-I’m sorry.”“So what are you running away from?” Tom’s laidback voice drew Kyler’s attention. When she didn’t respond, he poked her shoulder. “It’s not like we’ll ever meet each other again after this. Your secret will die here.”Kyler let out a long, shaky breath. Her fingers dug into her leggings. “My family.”Sandra felt a stab of pity. She placed a comforting hand on Kyler’s shoulder, only for the girl to shrug it away. She reluctantly retracted her hand.“I can’t be the perfect daughter they want anymore.” Kyler’s voice shook. “If I’m going to do something terrible, I don’t want them to know.”“I’m sorry,” Tom said quietly.“What about you?” Sandra gestured at him.“Me?” Tom gave an awkward chuckle. “In my line of work, there’s no room for mistakes. One mistake could lead to death.”His gaze shifted from Kyler to Sandra and then back to the floor. “And it happened.”Sandra gulped. She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Made what? A mistake or..?”Tom looked at her, a glint of mystery in his eyes. His lips curled upwards into a crooked smile. “Guess I’m not as innocent as I look, right?”Original Identity: Kyler AnThe front door opened with a trill. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to see a skinny woman walk in. Dressed in a tuxedo, her eyes were hidden behind dark shades. In her hand, a thin IPad. Her lips parted in a Cheshire grin as she studied the looks of surprise from the three people in the room.“How are my naughty criminals doing?” she simpered.Kyler froze. Color drained out of her face. “I’m joking, my dears,” the woman chuckled.The woman who now went by the name, Lynn, and the mysterious man, Tom, gave nervous chuckles as they looked at each other. Between them, Kyler let out a small huff of relief.The woman smiled and assumed an official tone. “I’m going to be your point of contact during this process. You can address me by my call sign, Double. Do you have any questions at this stage?”Lynn spoke up. “Will you be ensuring that the three of us never see each other again? Because I’m not comfortable with this.”Double tapped the IPad with her bony fingers and flashed that same smile which was starting to unnerve Kyler. “I understand your discomfort, San- I mean, Lynn.”Correcting herself with a smirk, Double ignored Lynn’s glare. “As you know, we operate illegally. If you want to vanish and rewrite your profile without going through the government’s background checks, then there’s a price to be paid. Rest assured though that the three of you will not see each other again.”Kyler stole a glance at Lynn who simmered in frustration. Her eyes drifted to the woman’s painted nails. It was a deep shade of red and stood out markedly on her skin. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from it, the blood-red color filling her vision. She gagged on the rising bile, a hand flying to cup her mouth.“Are you okay?”She blinked several times to clear her vision. Tom and Lynn looked down at her with sympathy and worry. She bobbed her head and croaked out, “I’m fine.”Double didn’t seem to care. She waited for all attention to turn back to her before resuming, “As I was saying, your current rating can still be changed if you want. After all, it will affect the quality of your new life. So, any requests?”“I’m fine.” Tom laughed and crossed his arms behind his head. “I’m basking in my newly earned reputation.”Double’s thin lips pulled upwards in a simper. “How about you, Kyler? Are you okay with lowering your old rating?”Kyler nodded, squirming as Tom and Lynn turned to her, shock written on their faces.“Lynn, any requests?”“N-no,” Lynn’s gaze flickered back to Double after breaking eye contact with Kyler. “But when will the face surgery take place? I need my new face to be completely unrecognizable.”“After you take the pill, my dear,” Double chuckled. “Whoever is chasing you won’t recognize you anymore.”Kyler watched Lynn’s expression shift from anxiety to relief. As the corner of Lynn’s lips curled up, a surge of red-hot anger filled the young girl’s veins. She glared at the abominable woman through the bangs that covered her eyes. Her fingers dug into her arm as she forced herself to remain still. “I’m going to give each of you a pill.” Double held up a packet containing three tablets. She strode towards them and shook the tablets out of the packet and into her palm. She held out her palm towards Lynn, then Tom, and handed the last tablet to Kyler.“Once you’ve taken it, we can move on to the next phase.”Kyler swallowed her pill. She eyed the other two adults who did the same. “Now you’ll feel the effects of the pill in a bit.”Double removed her sunglasses, revealing a red, unblinking eye. Her lips parted in an unnatural grin as she took in the horrified looks. Paralyzed with fear, Kyler’s vision blurred. Her feet grew number, the sensation rippling up her body as the meaning of Double’s words became clearer. Her head jerked up in slow motion. Lynn and Tom swayed in their seats as they lost all motor function. She gritted her teeth and tried to rise to her feet. Before anything happened to her, she would dispose of that bitch! Her trembling fingers wrapped around the knife hidden in her leggings. She gripped it hard and pushed herself to her knees.Ignoring Double who moved away from her, she crawled at a snail’s pace towards Lynn. The woman keeled over backwards onto the couch. As Kyler pulled herself up, Lynn stared at her in horror.Kyler’s eyes glazed over. With effort, she pointed the weapon at Lynn and hissed, “Sandra, you bitch!”Those were the last words that left her lips before her vision swam and everything turned dark. “Sleep tight, my criminals,” Double chuckled.~ ~ ~Kyler’s eyes fluttered open. Darkness greeted her. After several blinks, she could make out the ceiling above her and the cold, hard, metal bench propping her body up. Her neck was stiff from the uncomfortable position. It cracked as she shifted her weight around. She swept her eyes around for a light source, finding a flat-screen TV that covered the whole wall. A light grey illuminated the screen.“Hello?” she called out tentatively, her voice small.Her words were eaten by the confined space. A soundproof room.She got up shakily to her feet. She took one step. Then two. Her knee bumped into something. She yelped. Stumbling, she crouched down, one hand cradling her bruised knee. As she huffed in pain, her frantic mind conjured shadows that moved in the corner of her eye. She hugged her knees closer to her body as the deadly silence crept towards her. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks. She wished she had never chosen to hunt Sandra down. Why had she thought it was such a good idea at the time? Where was she now? What did Double want with her? Shuddering, she rocked back and forth for ages. Then, the glare of a bright light startled her. She yelped and threw her palm up to shield her eyes. When nothing else happened, she lowered her hand. She looked up to see a picture on the television screen.Her brain took a while to orientate itself. When it did, her eyes widened in shock. The picture on the screen showed a man tied to a pole with lacerations over his bare skin. His head lolled forward, eyes vacant and dead.Kyler shrieked. The picture changed to a body floating face down in a bathtub. “No, no!” She scrambled over the bench and lunged for the TV. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest as her fingers searched the screen for a button to turn it off. The pictures continued flashing through morbid scenes of death, taunting her, breaking her.She ran her fingers down the whole length of the screen. Nothing.A picture of a dead teenage girl took over the screen. Before Kyler could avert her eyes, a familiar bunny toy in the picture caught her attention. A chill ran down her spine. Gulping, Kyler took a step back to look at the screen. A girl with similar features as she lay on the floor of a bedroom, her eyes wide and terrified. On her neck were ligature marks. Kyler’s face turned ashen. Her bottom lip trembled. She crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Tears pooled in her eyes. She gasped. “Val.”Original Identity: Thomas ThurtThomas Thurt, or the man who went by the name of Tom, pulled off the face mask that morphed his features. He winked at Double. Her mask had also been removed, revealing her partially robotic body. “Don’t you hate putting that mask on?”She shrugged and pointed a metallic finger at the door. “Let’s get on with it.”“Kill joy.” Muttering under his breath, Thomas pressed his palm on the reader. The door slid open with a whoosh. Inside the dark room, Kyler shielded her face from the sudden onslaught of light. “Come on, Kyler,” Thomas gestured at the girl. “It’s over now.”Peeking out between her fingers, Kyler’s eyes widened in fear at the sight of two unfamiliar faces. Whimpering, she scurried back into the darkness.Pity clouded Thomas’s face. He took a step into the room with his hands held up. “I’m Tom, remember? You can scan my profile if you want.”The sound of feet shuffling was followed shortly by a gasp. A thin smile spread across Thomas’s lips. Most people reacted that way after learning he was an undercover cop. He hadn’t been lying when he mentioned he made a mistake at work. That mistake had cost him a demotion to where he was now - stuck in this fake Identity Wipe company that acted as a honeypot to catch fleeing criminals.Day in, day out, he would get cozy with the potential suspects. Gather clues, oversee the situation, and manage the interrogation process. His partner, Double, supplied the pills that allowed them to monitor the suspect’s biological signals - heart rate, brain signals, the whole lot. Interrogation became a matter of showing the crime scenes that happened in the past 36 hours and analyzing each person’s reactions through their advanced software.Sometimes, the Runners didn’t turn out to be criminals. Those were good days. Today, the day of Halloween, wasn’t. The girl stepped out of the shadows, hobbling unsteadily. Her neat hair was now in disarray. Grief and despair shone through her eyes that were colored red from crying.Thomas led her out of the room and into the bright corridor. She stood behind him and Double as he opened the glass door that led to the same vast space that the three of them had sat in. Disoriented, she looked around, trying to piece things together.Seeing her confusion, Thomas gestured to the corridor they had come from. “The room you were in? That was the bedroom that you guys assumed you didn’t have access to. Only it’s more of an interrogation room.”A flicker of understanding passed across her face. She shuddered. “Does that mean I’m under arrest?”He flashed a kind smile and shook his head. Beside him, Double gestured to the woman seated on the couch and said, “She is.”Kyler turned to see Sandra slumped down with her hair covering her face. Anger boiled in her veins and a rush of adrenaline launched her towards the woman. Double reacted faster and blocked her path. One arm wrapped around the teen’s waist, Double held the screaming girl back.“You killed Val, you bitch!” Kyler shrieked as angry tears formed behind her eyes. “How could you do that to my sister??”“She can’t hear you, Kyler,” Thomas pressed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Her experiences are being pulled into our record as evidence.”Kyler crumpled like a leaf in Double’s arms. Double shushed Kyler as the girl sobbed into her suit. “How did you even end up here?”“L-location tracker. V-Val planted it on her.” Her voice faltered. “Why did she kill Val?”Thomas met her gaze with a grim smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?”24 hours earlierSandra: You’re sure no one else is in?Val: Relax. Only my sister. She’s asleep in her room.Sandra: Are we doing this?Rustling sounds of clothes being shedVal: Not today.Sandra: Why did you call me over then??Val: No need to be pissy. I’ll still pay you for the hour and give you a 5-star rating.Bedsprings creak.Sandra: Why then?Val: I’ll be honest. I need money to leave this goddamn house.Sandra: Running away?Val: Yeah, with my sister.Silence.Sandra: I wish I could help but I don’t have enough either.Val: Really? Because I know you’ve built a decent nest egg.Sandra: Come on, Val. You know I’ve been saving up to increase my rating. Move up in life.Val: Same here.Sandra: I’m stuck in a hellhole my whole life with no opportunities, no way of adding color to my life. I’m sorry but I need this more.Val: Well, I didn’t want to use this on you.Wheels roll on the floor. Keys clack. A gasp.Sandra: How did you get that??Val: If people knew you had illegal plastic surgery, there goes your rating.Sandra: No, please no. Val-Heels clack furiously on the floor.Val: I just need some of your cash. You can earn it back easily.Sandra: N-no…Val: Or else I click this button-Sandra: Please, Val.Val: There goes your identity profile. All your hard work. All those years of fuckin-Thump on the floor. Sounds of struggle. Strangled cries.Record ends. Duration: 7 minutes.Case title: Perfect Identity.

Mature Content

100 Theme Challenge

Mature Content

Poker Theme Mashup
Cafe Poetry 8
A Winter For Your Sweater by C1nderellaMan
Recall Contest Folder
Pain and Anxiety
The plungeAn empty lot. Surrounded by dusty chain-link fencing, bent by neglect. The kind of place where kids would sneak to drink cheap liquor in the back of a pickup truckand set off fireworks, illegal but not quite dangerous. Abandoned, but not forgotten.Our house is going to be built here one day. Beyond the chains, surrounded by identical roofs, garage doors, dormer windows and Rottweilers. This will be our neighborhood. Our community. The barely remembered playground of former teenagers, the graveyard of dimpled beer cans and half-consumed french-fries. Home. Someday.We pull up in our silver four-door, a few yards outside the gap in the leaning fence. A few strains and a hop, and we’re through. The grit stings and claws at the imagination. That picture is stained with an orange haze, wind-streaked and dust-addled like the plastic sheeting covering the wood beams. Walk around and see what it will become. A dream of green and yellow and blue. Water will find the place where it is wanted. New life will fill the wasteland. But dust will creep back in, muddy the image, settle and give form to the mirage. This place, it belongs to the sand. It can only be painted, never wiped clean.I make my way back to the car, through the cracking walls of this future paradise. Lungs itching in irritation, I need to breathe something real again.Approaching the window of the front seat, I reach my hand into my pocket, grappling for the keys that mean my escape. Fingers meet metal. Twirled around my index finger, the keys follow my hand’s movement. But they catch on the stitching of my jeans. I lose my hold. They fall.Footsteps and a shadow. A black sedan with opaque windows. Who is this voiceless stranger with stone behind his eyes? Why does he not speak? I look up.The lack of recognition sounds discord in my throat. Foreign. Out of place. My tongue swells, sensing the peril my mind is not aware of. It sits oddly in my mouth, too dry.He stands arms length from me. His face carries no intent, his eyes betray no connection, no love, no hate. Cold hardness presses against the curve of my belly.I look into his eyes in wonder, fear only threatening to form in the back of my mind. A distant bang, a pressure. The tiny piece of honed metal already buried in the depths of my flesh before questions form.Pain does not register.This is not how it is supposed to go. I should know you, faceless man. It should hurt. I should feel. Betrayal. Completion. Something. There is no flash of memory. No dawning of enlightenment. I should wonder, but the blackness creeps too quickly. My gut is wrenched so subtly I cannot scream. Thoughts fade, cease to form, never were. Nothing remains. There is only the plunge.


Heavenly Torture
In my dreams
I dream of you
More often then I care to admit
You excite me and haunt me
I except that I will live like this
Forever having you a part of me
Barging back into my life
When I close my eyes at night
You are my biggest regret
We both failed in our own ways
I blame myself for not being what I promised
For not holding up my end of the deal
My desire to right my wrongs haunts me
To be able to fix this and have the life I wanted
Is something to far gone now, we’re broken
Wounds so deep, knives still buried
My pain and regret keeps you alive
Dancing chest to chest in my dreams
Your brown eyes staring back into mine
Your warmth, the touch of your lips
Some nights the dreams are painful
You breaking my heart over and over
Some nights they are so beautiful
Waking up is the true nightmare
A decade later and you still draw tears
You still have my emotions tangled up
Make me smile and depressed together
Cause me to want to sleep forever and ever
Our paths will cross again and aga
:iconarmymanski:armymanski 1 0
June tWR Prompt: Robotic Humanity
Hello everyone! :bademoticon:  I hope everyone is doing well! 
Before introducing our new prompt, the participants from the May tWR Prompt: Alien Influence are:
Winner Let's congratulate Refugnic for winning the 100 points we award to a random monthly prompt participant.
Down to Business

 I am not a Robot by BitterGreen 
Writing about robots is not a new subject but, as humans, we can't seem to get enough. Especially in a world where computers and machinery are involv
:iconthewrittenrevolution:theWrittenRevolution 10 15
Love's Imprint
I still find myself bleeding over the wound you left me, three years later. Some days you are the dull in my fingertips, others you are my inability to look a man in the eye. But mostly, you are my constant distrust. My body no longer feels set ablaze passing by your house, or hearing your name. But my mind remains bruised, even with years to heal and countless short-lived remedies. I've tried the pills, pot, liquor, and even flimsy lovers, but my friends still manage to say they miss the old me. The me that you took away. And between trying to still recollect the shatters of my heart and mind, I can't seem to find her either. No one told me love would do this to me, no one managed to tell me what happens after. If I knew what I did now, I would of saved whatever remaining sanity I had and left.
:iconbathroomstallstories:BathroomStallStories 12 1
Emotions are mixed in many ways
Thrown in the air and left for dead
Reach up and grab one why not
Get pricked by what you grab and drop it
I don’t know what I want to feel right now
I don’t know if it will hurt or feel good
I don’t want to feel the pain or hurt
I can’t take that feeling anymore
Give me something comforting
Make me feel the warmth and compassion
Not hurt and aggravation that doesn’t stop
Please not the numbness that I have moved from
I want to feel I do it is good
Just not this the not knowing
Knowing when I will be completed and happy
The fulfillment of my emotions and body
I have my entire life to feel
Please don’t make it be full of this feeling
I want to sleep peacefully at night
Not lay awake bogged with sadness and confusion
Take this hurt away and replace it
Fill me with a love and comfort
Replace this emptiness with your love
That I may feel complete in you
By: Matt Sieradzki 1/17/09
:iconarmymanski:armymanski 15 15
Wings Of Love by unknown-sources Wings Of Love :iconunknown-sources:unknown-sources 24 16

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Recent Journal Entries







I was curious, what is it that sparks your creativity? Where did your creative streak begin? What keeps it going, where do you get motivation from?
I've loved writing, especially poetry as well as photography for a really long time. Not as a career or anything. But a hobby, I've always had a great appreciation for those who can create beautiful things from their own minds and at some point about 20 years ago I learned I really enjoyed writing poetry and taking pictures of nature and abstract things that just stand out to me. I've learned that it is my vent, my outlet when I am feeling extreme pressure. It is a go-to when I need to say things that I can't really say.
One of my motivators is actually a good keyboard. Feeling a well built and enjoyable to type on keyboard under my fingers just makes me want to use it, to type something, anything at times. As a teen long ago when palm pilots were a thing I got myself one and found that I loved writing on it, the first time I purchased a Mac I noticed a huge boost in my writing. Something about the feel of the keys just makes me not want to stop tying.
Emotionally though, it isn't always easy for me to get into a writing mood. I may want to at times but stall out. Depression has always been my biggest motivator, especially a broken heart. But these days depression doesn't hold me down much and finding other motivators to come up with creative material just seems more difficult to me.
I am thankful that I had a family member who was a writer as well as a tech geek that got me on the life long corse of loving writing, photography and all things tech. I don't think that I would be the person I am today without having had those moments in my life.
Today was one of those moments where I pulled the old MacBook Pro out from where it's been sitting unused. The same keyboard that got me to create this group, to even create a deviant art in the first place. I figured instead of traveling down memory lane alone I'd see if anyone else wanted to take the trip with me.
:spyed: :jarksaber:
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A place for poetry, feel free to join, share and love others poetry!
Founded 11 Years ago
Mar 3, 2010


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Daniel8Markov Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2020
Thank you for accepting me into the group.
armymanski Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2020  Hobbyist Writer
We accept everyone here, thank you for joining.
JustanotherDJ Featured By Owner May 21, 2020  Student Writer
Hello! Thanks for having me, happy to be a part of the group! :D 
armymanski Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2020  Hobbyist Writer
We're glad to have you!
Louise-1 Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2019
Thanks for accepting me into the group. How do I submit work?
HaydenSteam Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2019  Hobbyist Writer
Hello, I'm exited to get to work! Forgive me if my writing is boring, I'm an amateur writer seeking practice and skill.
MadRabbitComix Featured By Owner Jun 26, 2019   Writer
I'm so excited to be a part of this group! ^^
armymanski Featured By Owner Nov 29, 2019  Hobbyist Writer

:spyed: :jarksaber:
ChaosDucky Featured By Owner Jun 30, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Hello there
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