Long Bridge the gap Poems
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Couple coding : she combined the two first names to
create one name. Fans of this character often loved
these two people.
While their characters were hot: they would often
tour signing autographs,
making a lot of money selling merchandise and
meeting there fans.Key frames in animation often
bridge the gap: between keyframes. It's a term called
inbetweens. The poor siblings that close the divide
between characters. Poor to pose characterization
where a script is poor due to the building up
of intensity: to build
suspension between two charters.
The creation of interest so the audience can take part in the excitment.eliminating the separation or difference:
where there is no romantic tensions between the two
characters, there might be a rivalry but not always,
it's just two . In the creation of "Spira Tanto " is both
a soap opera and cartoon.
It's about an Orange farmer in Italy who's
Orchard was invaded by a mythical moth like spawn.
Until a meteor from
space landed on his land. While removing the space rock
So to did some of the moth creatures who to on humanoid form
and began destroying the oranges. Spira began wearing
promessa fabrics that were strengthened by the mutations
of the space rock.He began flying, he could lift large boulders.
Women began loving him.He could perform the chores of 20 men in one hour. And he began fighting the super strengthen and super intelligent Moth Spawn and their leader Piu Pormento the super mutated spawny moth humanoid.
He is a mutated creature. A super powerful person.
The carpet used to be a plastic kingdom,
Where Barbie lived the lives I used to crave.
I hit the age I always dreamed of holding,
Expecting to be grown, and wise, and brave.
But looking in the mirror, nothing shifted.
I see the same kid staring at the glass.
The wisdom that I waited for evaporated,
While heavy, adult breaths begin to pass.
Sixteen is brushing closely down my shoulders.
The slack is gone; the childhood curtain falls
.I miss the days of crayons on the floorboards,
Before the stacks of textbooks built these walls.
I miss when dreams were wild and unattainable,
When being a princess felt so safely far.
Because today, the dream demands my labor,
And pressure guides the course of every star.
I pour my life into a future uniform.
I fight for perfect scores to bridge the gap
.But now I fear the sea of other perfections,
And losing my own map.
(Dedication: For the poets at PoetrySoup)
"Be of good cheer in spite of fear;
Love lives right here to help you steer."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here on this site, each soul can cite
In easy writes, lines in small bites.
Here each poet hurls his or her fare
In inner swirl what feelings bare.
Here in sure stride, verses spill out
In a flood tide of voice that routes.
Here with fond feel, each wears a style
Of zest that heals as words move miles.
Here in this space where all zones meet,
Each touch can trace the face that greets.
Here common sense can bridge the gap
Of warring tense to craft new maps.
Here each to each, we come and go,
Writes within reach, seek a fond show.
Here despite flaws, each man can be
Writer most raw or what you see.
Here thoughts take form to create verse
To share a norm as you observe.
Here you can share your living lines
Of pain and cares and love that binds.
Here in Soupsville, each man can be:
Craft with goodwill for all to see.
Here's to the best that each can share,
In simple quest to tend life's cares.
Here's to good times and bad days too,
For reason rhymes as feelings woo.
Here's to your writes that echo far,
Comments on-site that blaze like stars!
Here's to each day to fling finesse,
To feel wordplay in spite of stress.
Here's to all forms of words that sum,
That moves our norms in sure outcomes.
Here's to the poise in simple voice,
To verse craft choice as we rejoice.
Here's to each write that no one sees:
Discern and cite, keep faith truly.
Leon Enriquez
18 August 2014
Singapore
Her:
"I speak...
these words that bridge the gap between our seats
closing in the distance which my fingers could not reach.
They cling onto your sleeves.
Now, a part of me will be
with you even as you leave."
Him:
"I write..
these messages that I may feel your presence
despite the undeniable distance.
'SENT,' the word plastered on my screen,
which carry the weight of the feeling
the moment the other end screams 'SEEN.'"
Her:
"I savor...
the taste of each delicacy that touches
my sensory buds with your every trial.
A feeling of foodgasm trickles down my chest
as I'm swallowing the my jealousy and denial."
Him:
"I burn..
all my desires and pour it onto the plate
just to satisfy your finicky palate.
With cuts and burns I hide with every trial,
just to see your gratifying smile."
Her:
"I smile...
at the world we have inside your car
as the rearview narrows to a point from a far.
But my lips draw into a line when I'm struck with reality.
The conversation drone on all about her and not about me."
Him:
"I clutch...
tight with the disappointment that I feel,
as my fingers grip the steering wheel.
The engine halt mirrors the sigh of my defeat
knowing it isn't you on my passenger seat."
God shows His holiness supreme
He sent His son to the cross
where Jesus died in our place
so lovingly He suffered loss
This was truly the highest price
indeed the only price to satisfy
God's holiness requires this
holy and righteous is His cry
No one else but only Jesus
could pay the price of our sin
making Himself the perfect sacrifice
so God would allow us to enter in
God's holiness is so infinite
and our unholiness so great
that only Jesus could bridge the gap
to deal with our sins before it's too late
Praise God for sending Jesus
who died on Calvary's cross
so we could be blameless and holy
forever to be, our sins indeed was
(Scripture References:
Romans 8: 3,4
Acts 3: 14
Hebrews 9: 26)
Humanity
Bridge the gap
Is humanity what you want it to be?
Think about it
The stars light up the sky
At night
The sun lights up the sky
During the day
But what do you illuminate?
Thoughts flow
People die in the chains of freedom
Bridge the gap
Between this reality and that fiction
And is humanity what you thought it was?
Think about it
You will scream for your beliefs
When the time is right
But you won't die for your beliefs
When the time is wrong
You live your life
Unaware of tragedy
But I am here today
To bridge the gap
Between humanity and insanity
Think about it
There are days when I could smile
Few and far between
There are days when I could frown
Almost every single day
Is humanity what you know it can be?
The air around me is cold, a hollow ache within my bones.
Darkness consumes my vision, my dreams are ink spilled on a page.
My shoes are filled with stone, my eyes adrift in a river of tears.
Emotional sepsis festers in my mind, chains of sorrow bind my soul.
Peace is a fading silhouette, my art a flimsy bandage.
My storybook, once vibrant, is filled with fading pages.
A fever burns within my soul, an illness no man can cure.
Actions cannot undo, words cannot erase the pain.
Bitter memories flood my mind, a sour taste on my tongue.
An empty gun lies under my pillow, my path littered with holes.
A new beginning, too short, too far to reach, a broken ladder cannot bridge the gap.
My fire is frozen, happiness a mere figment, an imaginary friend.
My soul, waterlogged by tears, is stalked by emptiness.
Questions plague my mind, unseen answers fumble in my drowned eyes.
A road traveled with bare feet, worn and torn, bleeding with each step.
A heart unheld by love, love a burning memory, a phantom limb.
The bond we shared has taken flight, my glass is riddled with holes.
A man forgotten by death, adrift in a world of strangers.
A banana peel lies beneath my feet, a misstep in the wrong direction.
I fall endlessly, but nothing reaches out, only ghostly hands that grasp at air.
My fear was left at your funeral, a forgotten smudge unseen by most.
A scream from a silent voice, a fading echo in deaf ears.
Forever, our promise, taken by fate, a surgical procedure by a broken doctor.
Your love severed from my heart, your loving hold slipping away in the new light.
On that day, darkness infected me, a hero in heart, but a failure in deeds.
Now, a fading silhouette, no hand to hold, only memories to run.
A marriage forbidden by a cold fate, with your absence, my winter goes on.
The wind is blowing from all directions and the cloud is falling beneath the earth, the hills are standing tall and strong, and my heart is singing a merry song. I long for the days to come back again when we will be just like old friends, the shadows will dance with the moon and the stars will shine upon us.
I can feel the wind blowing in my back and an unfamiliar sensation moving up and down my new frock projecting a strange noise in the roof that brings joy and laughter in the atmosphere.
It is the howling sound that comes with the wind forcing mankind to pay double for his sin and nature rock you to and fro and catapults your mind all over the floor and when the moment has passed you sit still gasping for breath.
Th smell of roasted coffee beans seeps through the kitchen roof stirring my morning appetite and meddle with my midday delight. I struggle to bridge the gap between the coffee and the ice-tea and the early morning shoppers drain the energy out of me. They converge on the pavement next to the house and crowd the coffee shop in the corner. Discount coffee, strawberry doughnut galore, and cinnamon beagle pile up to the roof waiting on hungry buyers.
The crowd begins to swell and spills out in the street, and the dogs emerge out of hell pointing their long guns at the brawlers to control the swelling crowd.
Droopy eyes and hungry gut yawns before me, anxiously waiting for a cup of tea, the coffee shop finally opened, and the people form a line leading to their destiny. I have never seen such display of emotion before; it puts everyone on the dance floor.
My lips began to tremble, and heart begins to move and a song that has never been sang, a rhythm that has never been felt burst out my lips and the early morning crowd caught on to it and everyone start dancing, coffee cup in one hand and cinnamon and bagel in another.
Morning came alive and my emotion touches the sky.
Keeping up with the Jones I still try
It's dog eat dog neath a vicious sky
All the finer things that you demand
This rat race has gotten out of hand
I toil and strain just to bridge the gap
The weight of life heavy on my lap
A token reward to earn my pay
The burden tests my will every day
Try hard as I might you just don't care
A sad reflection of cold despair
There's no joy ever since you left town
Your rejection only brings me down
So now in the quiet of the night
By the gentle glow of dim moonlight
I can still hear your shrill voice callin'
Oh how the mighty now have fallen
Reciprocated.
Unrequited love, the feeling I’ve felt every time I fall for an individual. It’s a feeling that stays hidden at first but slowly becomes a reality, a reality that the love you are giving isn’t being reciprocated back to you . It’s like a one-sided echo in the halls of my heart,
a silent song sung only for myself,
because to love them is to build a castle on sand,
and to love them the way I do,
is to love someone who doesn't love you the same. To feel for someone who doesn’t feel for you.
To want to feel someone who only wants to graze your outer layer. You long for a touch of love over lust, their acknowledgment, clinging desperately to the smallest gestures, a fleeting smile, a shared glance. You dissect these moments, searching for a sign, a hint of reciprocation. Yet, you exhaust yourself trying to bridge the gap, to make them see, to make them feel what you do.. Until the day it appears to you that they simply just can’t. But still you stay with hope in your heart that one day they will see just how much you mean to them, that just one day they will love you just as much and even more than you do. You hope and you hope and you hope… You had imagined moments where their eyes would light up at the thought of you, where your presence would stir something deep within them. You had felt that spark, the connection you believed could grow. Yet here they are, effortlessly intertwined with someone else, sharing the kind of love that you craved for yourself—a love that feels as if it was meant to be so freely exchanged, so readily given, just not to you. Oh, how it burns to see them. To see them open up, to have their heart open. A door for them to easily fall in love. The love that you so desperately want, to see them reciprocate. To have them love someone else and as deeply as you'd hoped they'd love you. It's a constant reminder of what you crave, the love, and the need for acceptance that you can't get. At last, the painful truth sweeps over you like a cold wave: it wasn’t that they were unable to fall in love. It’s not that they lack the capacity for emotional connection; rather, it’s the stark reality that their heart, so full of warmth, simply doesn’t choose you