wind writes on the field
soft lines drifting through the grass
daylight folds its gentle page
I read what it leaves
I doubt that you have heard of me.
God saw that I was very ambitious,
And essentially said to me, 'forget it'.
The life lesson that I would prescribe
For you is one that I was forced to learn.
It is this: Be willing for God to write the
Script of your life.
The script I wrote for my life was voided.
My plan in life did not materialize.
I was displeased with the direction
That God allowed my life to go.
Forced against my will, I ended up
In a country I never would have gone.
My prize from God was my life. I was
A writer for the prophet Jeremiah.
My story can be found in his book.
My name was Baruch.
raindrops making dotted patterns~
brief, delicate punctuation
the sky offers in passing,
each mark a soft reminder
that even silence has a grammar
written in weather.
It’s where I live, breathe and walk,
I cant just outright cry and scream,
Because of how I was born I suppose,
Or better yet,
How I came back to be,
If the scripts were just flipped,
If the scripts were how they used to be,
Maybe…it would be less weird for me to,
I’ve grown so accustomed to today’s script,
It feels so common yet still so weird,
Keeping my long hair,
Expressing my well of emotions,
Wearing the cute things I love deeply,
Are the Varry few things I can fit into today’s role,
Today’s script taking away everything I once held dear,
My dresses,
My pretty crowns,
My dazzling heels,
My vast jewelry collection,
All gone like a distant memory,
Turning into nothing but shredded paper,
Like all my old scripts I planned to keep.
-Kitsuko Dragonstar
Before the ink had touched the page or feet had found the ground,
The map of every pulse and breath was silently unbound.
A script etched in the silver dust, where ancient spirits dwell,
With secrets kept in constellations, stories yet to tell.
It’s written in the stars, they say, in lines of burning white,
A tapestry of destiny woven through the night.
We are but cosmic travelers, following a trail,
Through tempests and through quiet seas, beyond the velvet veil.
For every joy that warms the heart and turns the winter gold,
A debt of pain is etched in scars, as ancient myths foretold.
But even in the hollow ache, where sorrow takes its part,
There lies the seed of hope—the beating pulse of every heart.
We find our love in gravity, a force we can’t defy,
Reflecting all the brilliance of the diamonds in the sky.
Though we may drift and lose our way, or stumble in the glass,
The destiny of every soul shall surely come to pass.
So look toward the firmament when weary of the climb,
Your name is carved in light and heat, across the bend of time.
A masterpiece of stardust, from the finish to the start,
For all the heavens ever dreamt is written in your heart.
Here I am
Defending who I am
The Man with a voice
Holding convictions
Thoughts of life
Advices that weren’t nice
My words extend into more than fend
They speeches of virtues and aspirations
Emotions erupt like a volcano
Storms deep down in my inner soul
Far from anybody to reach
My yesterday’s arrived swiftly today
Preparations unfold
As a Man, I speak bold
Every step a threshold
Never to be silent
Never surrender
Standing on principles
My eyes have seen my past of situations
All mounting to circumstances
Hear me or move on
Being a Man is my true self
I am not a follower like everybody else
I have walked in my shoes alone going through my own experiences
There is no fit into but me
You only see me as just an ordinary man
I represent humanity of all walks of life
Survival from all corners
Understand yourself before trying to understand me
I found myself and know who I am
Honor and value surround me
You can kill my flesh but never my spirit
You can’t take away what was already given
The Man you see
Head held high with no worries nor fear.
Show me the maps etched in your skin,
the ones the world wasn’t meant to see.
I know the syntax of a wound...
the dialect of the "almost" and the "used to be."
Not the scars of a stumble or a fall
but the weight of a name, a night, a wall;
The words that settled like silt in your chest
until they became the rhythm of your rest.
The deepest hurts don't always bleed;
They manifest in the things you don't need...
In the way your laughter cuts off at the edge,
in the silence you use as a sharpened wedge.
I see the flinch before the touch,
the way you give, but never too much.
Turning your eyes to the floor or the door
before the heart can ask for more.
Show me the jagged, the worn and the deep,
The secrets your silver scarred memories keep.
You aren't a puzzle or a "difficult" soul,
just a story that had to fight to be whole.
For those who have walked through a sunless spark
are the only ones who can see in the dark.
.
regard thuh write uv mine, "stalk'd by ephialtes", well; "ephialtes {ef-ee-al-teez} is a
mythological incubus that, incites nightmarez...so now y'all can tramp back and in-
jest it's think'd ') i think.
it's not a spooky write either...there'z actually a moral to my
think this time... ") ...p.s....yeah, it's thuh terse write, yet, you may spend more time
realizing mine dramatic likewise thank'n yourself for reading "stalk'd by ephialtes" .
who lovez y'all...i'll tell yuh soon ')
.
it's alwayz
"right/write"
when in love
*allan terry...
ty 4thuh muse
')
villain music came on just like in the sixties grayscale TV shows
dun dun dun dun
cowboy appears in a white hat
we know who he is
next guy walks out in triple black, large guns
I hiss and boo at him
I was taught this during my childhood
bullying was okay back in the day
I cheered for the hero
anticipating the outcome
the script never varies
yet here I sit, watching it, every time
after still I Rise by Maya Angelou
They said, "too loud, too wild, too much"—
so she learned to burn with a softer touch.
But thunder lived behind her face,
and silence wore her fiercest grace.
They carved her worth in smaller space,
then crowned it "grace" to know her place.
But she was made of deeper things—
not ribbons, rules, or borrowed wings.
She didn't rise to please their gaze,
or fit inside their staged displays.
The ground they gave was false, contrived—
so she rewrote it just to survive.
Now every step is storm and flame,
they whisper wild when they say her name.
But she's not theirs to dim or tame—
She rose. She roared. she burned the game.
~hira ~
A stage is set, the lights are low,
A script we'll follow, soft and slow.
No need for pretense, just raw desire,
A flame ignited, burning higher.
Even if scripted, the passion's real,
A story whispered, emotions we feel.
We'll play our parts, with hearts aflame,
And whisper softly each other's name.
No holding back, no gentle sway,
We'll lose ourselves in this sweet play.
A dance of longing, a whispered plea,
Just you and I, eternally.
Though words are written, and acts defined,
The connection forged, will intertwine.
In this shared moment, truth we'll find,
A love expressed, of heart and mind.
Unnumbered army etheric;
Dost thou oppose his rule?
Prefer then the nerves a-prick!
Utmost, adverse, school!
Dubious battle on those plains?
Heaven, must ye fall?
Throne afire? Wait for the rains!
Field, get rid of all!
All is lost? Nowhere I've seen.
Unconquerable will.
Only in a dream, machine!
Immortals, pay bill.
Vengeance study? Thus requite.
Courage, doth submit?
Hatred, sing in me and fight!
Enemies to quit.
Nine full days and nights ahead?
Tartarean gloom.
Tonight we dine with the dead.
Red lighthouse a-tomb.
Abashed, devil? But you stood!
Awful, history? Good!
Naga tomb, thy neighborhood.
Nether regions, brood.
You see, I'm an actor.
I'll cheer for you,
While I'm dead on the inside.
I'll write scripts
And put them in action
To prove I'm fine.
It is weary sometimes,
But shows my growth as an actor.
I'll climb the highest of the mountains,
And my tears will rain down to end drought.
And blood will flow like a river.
It's a long road ahead;
I'll learn this time to be fine.
A Script, A Lift,
.... Colors The Sky!
All Our Voices,
Strength, .... And Might!
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