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How a Heart Spells LoveIf I could call you love
I would spell it
With summer days in open plains;
And nights spent laying
Under full moons near creaks
That bubble and crawl along
Roads that have long since been forgotten.

If I could have called you love
I would have spelled it with
Days dancing in warm rain
And splashing in puddles
With the look of your eyes as
They met mine and smiled.

If I could have called you love
I would have written it with forever
Because you never really left me.

Wake Me Up in ParisHe had told her once, in a café on North Avenue that she had the prettiest chocolate colored eyes he had ever seen. She had felt her face flush, as his hand brushed her cheek and he told her that he loved her. She had smiled quietly, almost as if she hadn't heard him because she never wanted anyone to tell her that she was loved. There's no such thing as a love story without tears. She let him hold her hand because it was warm against the cool October air, but she couldn't bring her eyes to meet his. In his eyes were all his hopes and dreams; and on the cuff of the grey sweater he wore, was his heart. She had fallen for his warm sm

Dream Ends LoveIf I could fly
To somewhere far away;
I'd dance up in the sky
Above the clouds on rainy days.
I'd fly up to the sun
Just to feel the warmth,
Instead of dreary rainy days
Passing through the storms.

If I could dream of summer,
I swear I'd never wake
And leave the basking glow
For someone else's reach.

If I could feel your heart
Then maybe this world isn't so cold;
And I won't have to shiver
In the cold of your eyes,
The chill of your arms,
The ice of your heart.

I could drown the world in ifs and tears.
I could sleep away all my bestest years.
But in the end the sky, the dreams, the tears;
Are all just ways to forget the

For My ObituaryWhen I die
Write simply
Goodbye.

When Lost Souls Fly1

I watched from the window as you stepped to the edge. You always said you wanted to fly. I tried to convince myself that I taught you how. But looking back, I realize it was all a lie. You were never mine. Will I say I'm sorry as your back is turned to me? You could care less if I am in the room. What is one more apology from my ineffectual lips? It falls empty on the wind blowing in through the open window.

2

I remember when you used to dream of sunlight, or at least you told me you once did. Now, I can hardly remember a time when the sun wasn't scorching the skin of my back, much like your words singed my already wounded soul.

Dreamer's KeepWhere does a dreamer go when he lays his head to sleep?
Does he fly up to the moon and ask for stars to be his keep?
Does he wander far from home to fight the dragons of the East?
Does he visit far off lands just to wrestle untamed beasts?
Where do you go, my dreamer, when I lay you down to sleep?
What causes you to smile when you're done with counting sheep
There are some things I may never know. A dreamer's dream is far below.
Beneath those heavy lidded eyes is a world of endless skies.
So for now my little one, sleep until the rising sun.
And when you wake to morning light, tell me what you dreamt last night.

Red - HaikuLove and anger duel.
For the heart in the apple.
Only a worm's dream...

Abused and AbandonedThey left him. How could they have left him? Ben sat on a tree stump on the side of road. He hadn't moved since his dad had stopped the car and told him to get out. He didn't understand why his dad had kept his younger brother, but had dumped him on the side of the road. Ben kept holding on to the hope that they would come back for him, but the sun was setting now and he couldn't sit here all night. Ben picked his backpack off the ground and started walking towards the setting sun.

Ben's mind was spinning, but he just kept putting one foot after the other. After several miles, as the sun was sinking past the horizon Ben found himself

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A Wish I Cannot GrantFrom the bed where my broken body lies
I watch the birds fly by.
I'll never know that freedom,
To soar high above the trees;
Or spread my wings and take the dive;
To finally live or die.
I'll never run like other children.
My bones are far to broken;
My limbs are far too stiff.
I'll never run outside again;
Never stand outside my bed.
I suffer now because you chose
To take a drink, then drive.
I'll never get the chance to tell you.
I wish I would have died.

For You My Love...Remember me, but do not cry.
Love me, so that I never die.
Once upon a time we slept
Under stars that never wept

On dewy grass we dreamed
Of a day spent under our willow tree.
Of a bride dressed all in white.
And a kiss shared under a moonlit night

Remember me as I looked that day
In a white dress with my bouquet
With our family all around
Our dreams were now forever bound.

Remember me, but do not cry.
Remember love, I did not die.
My soul lies far beyond the sea
But in your heart, I'll always be.

A Soul of Bright BlueAll that's left of love is blue.
One lonely shirt left on the floor.
Tossed there as he closed the door.

All that's left of love is blue.
His laughter is a missing sound.
Dreams that will never leave the ground.

All that's left of love is blue.
For my love, he died last night.
Now angels seek his inner light.

Beneath the DarkLet's play a game, love.
One with pain and promises;
Throw the night away

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When Saying Goodbye

by ~mamorel, Jun 16, 2011, 11:56:42 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Romance / General / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

There's a beautiful violence dying on the wind tonight; and a mournful solace glowing in the violet twilight.  His eyes meet my own, and I can't help but shiver.  Though the wind is warm, there is ice in those pale moonlit orbs.

I feel my transgressions like fire on my arms, as if each has been laid bare; like a scar carved upon my flesh for him to judge.  I can almost feel his thoughts, his curses, his wounded cries of injustice.  I can taste his longing and his rage, like bitter pith carved from his soul.

I close my eyes against the tears and he knows then to be silent.  I'd swear that I can feel him shaking next to me in the darkness, and I know then that he is crying.  He is trying desperately to be brave in the face of his world crashing down around him.

I breathe in deeply; the scent of fresh cut grass brings back happy memories that do not belong in this desperate hour.  They are memories of sweet kisses under the oak tree where we once carved our names, and memories of picnics in the shade with fresh strawberry jam.

I stand without looking down at him.  He doesn't move.  He lets me walk away.  And while I don't look back, I can feel him staring after me; unsure whether to get up and follow or let me go.  It is my own guilt that is eating away at my insides; like a worm digging its way through a rotten apple core.

I know he hopes that I'll come back.  I can almost hear his melodic voice praying inside my head; and my resolve begins to crack.  How am I supposed to live with what I've done?  How am I supposed to look into his beautiful face every day, knowing that I don't deserve him?

In this beautiful violence I surrendered, when I left my love sitting by the old oak tree where we shared our first kiss.  The mournful solace has taken flight.  Like the beautiful shades of twilight I have bowed my head to the powerful coming of the night.  I can't even meet my own reflection these days.

When Saying Goodbyeby ~mamorel

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Romance / General / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Sometimes we let our conscious eat away at us. It is easier to walk away than it is to face what we have done wrong. But running away never solved anything. It always left me more broken than before...

Critique by *tanya3286 Jul 5, 2011, 1:26:13 PM

Heartbreaking is the first word that comes to mind when I have scarcely reached the end of the first paragraph.

If the songs which tell of the saddest times are the sweetest.. then this is just prose that is laced with a very tangible bittersweet after taste. Exquisitely written with a very good choice of words.

The imagery of separation juxtaposed against the imagery of 'first love' and summer kisses are painfully contrasted against each other and thus makes the desolation and despair of the moment seem even greater.

The comparison drawn between the consience and rotten apple core is brilliant - it gets under my skin with its familiarity of feeling and makes me uncomfortable in my seat.

If I would suggest any omission it would only be in the last paragraph -

The mournful solace has taken flight... coming of the night

The repetition of 'mournful' can be omitted as it sounds a bit too familiar and heavy from the 1st para; 'beautiful shades of twilight' can be replaced by 'defeated shades of twilight' -

If imagery and painting a picture was your true aim then I feel defeated would be better suited for the 'feel' that you want to impart to the ending lines and leave the reader with that feeling of quiet desperation ~

Very well written, as usual

What do you think?

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~EpicDreamer2011 Jul 26, 2011 Student Digital Artist

I can't write a proper critique, but I'll write the closest thing I can.

Well, when I read this... I could imagine every little detail. It was very descriptive, without taking away the emotional element. Like a painting.

The fourth paragraph is what really got to me- the memories. Reflecting on old times, it made me feel as though there was a glimmer of hope in their dark world.

Also, I feel like this whole poem, tragic as it feels, is totally possible, totally real, and it seems easy to relate to. People have faced things that made them feel that way before.

All in all, it's well written, and it captures a moment perfectly.

(Vision- 5)
(Originality- 4)
(Technique- 5)
(Impact- 5)

~mamorel Aug 2, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

*red-winged-angel Jul 5, 2011 Student Digital Artist

Very touching. ;_.

~mamorel Jul 5, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

thank you.

*red-winged-angel Jul 5, 2011 Student Digital Artist

You're welcome.

~OmniOClarke Jun 29, 2011

You were seriously born to be an author! It's even better, especially when I put myself in the characters' shoes, I feel exactly what they're feeling. Great work.

~mamorel Jul 3, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

thanx.

~kamalaksh Jun 23, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

This piece is certainly very stunning and painful (but in a good way!), I can clearly and vividly share the emotion of these characters. What especially work is the contrast you introduce when the narrator is reminded of the past good times and how awkward it makes the present feel.
I'm however unsure of the "beautiful violence" expression you've invented and applied here. I can almost understand what you are referring to, but barely. The idea is abstract and I simply do not think you are employing the correct vocabulary for the situation you are trying to describe. I would suggest playing around with the word "beautiful" a bit.

~mamorel Jun 23, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

She wants to protect him, but she needs to protect him from herself. I am alluding to the sort of violence, that is used out of necessity to protect something you love, like a mother hurting the man who is trying to steal her child. It is violence, there is no question about it; but there is a beauty to it, because there is love in her actions.

~WhatsernameKatzchen Jun 20, 2011 Student Digital Artist

This is truly beautiful
i love it...

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