A Mother’s Dead Child
Over the years people would presume, that she may have moved on and they will often tell her it God's will, that took her child back. But deep-down a storm would be raging sideways in her heart.
Bliss of Solitude
Wandering lonely like a fallen leaf of an autumn tree
Flowing with the winter breeze
A Stone Hits Home
The trick is not to stick with what won’t stick. Life's stories are muddy quarries where worries cloud those under and shroud with their thunder bereft memories like lightning hailing pain for rain.
Palayain
Kung madali lang sa kanya na i-let go ka, it only meant one thing - hindi sya ang nakatadhana sa'yo.
The Desire For Tasting Lemons
The Desire For Tasting Lemons is a short story written by Haniya Usmani and shared with The Ugly Writers for the month of July. The Desire For Tasting Lemons Zain sat there intrigued by those yellow citrus fruits lying there…
The Games We Play
Wanting to scream all the pain that you've been keeping to yourself.
But instead, you covered your mouth.
Keeping those screaming and not letting any word out.
Tragic October
Stitches our tattered bond every doubtful night.
But your lies, keep ripping us apart.
The curtains patch our battles from the world to hear.
We Are Queer Geese
Our honks and hiss transform
Rebellious riots into pride parades,
Peer-pressure shame into defiant love,
Fragile weakness into gorgeous strength.
The Burial of King Henry VIII
Gazing on King Henry's corpse did we stand,
Not a solider stood saluting, as his farewell shot,
Satisfied faces stood there, no rose in the hand.
Helping or Enabling?
My thoughts on this are that there are people who would step up in order to show concern for others. A community pantry has been a really good thought for those who have started and those who followed through it.
Strangeness
In the dimly lit corridors
Between the two realms
Of sleep and consciousness
Are lost in the cruel haze
of wakefulness
Beginning with “M”
For the impossibilities
Have faded in yesterdays
Be grateful that memories
cannot work
All That’s Left Is Mud
Due to being created by and inhabited by
Dirty, corrupted, sick humans,
The world is covered with
Muddy contradictions and romantics.
Come To My Parlor
"Please do come to my home,"
Whispered the lonely spider
To anyone who came by.
The Summers of ’69 and ‘19
The Summers of ’69 and ’19 is written by Michael Natt and shared with The Ugly Writers. The Summers of ’69 and ‘19 Those were the best days of my life – Bryan Adams These are the best…