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Literature Text
She was a shadow
blue eyes blinded by sunrise
light lost long ago
blue eyes blinded by sunrise
light lost long ago
Literature
Fading eyelashes
In his heart of hearts,
the husband knew she would always fear
the home,
would always fear
retiring from the desk in charge,
would always be
the nun who would excommunicate
all popes and priests,
-the heretical demons!-
who would grow up to gush
at her friends who married
blond, clear looking foreigners
-while she is stuck in her
cold too cold hot too hot
rainy too rainy country
He forgot to tell
his secretary
to not answer his
home phone
but at least he
lost himself in another city
in another job
other children
another time
unshackled of everything
unclouded of everything
perhaps he is lounging
in the mountains
with his new children
Literature
the sun, the moon
she was wise,
with the sun in one eye,
and the moon in the other,
and she looked at the world
as the universe would;
she looked at the world
seeing it as so small
standing in oceans that were only knee-deep
and in deserts that were her sand boxes
with the sun in one eye,
and the moon in the other
she looked to the stars as her friends,
but she couldn’t wrap her mind around
how far away they were
the darkness scared her—
so she never closed those eyes,
never put the sun, the moon to sleep.
sometimes she would cry to the stars
her friends—they weren’t listening,
she was flooding her sand box
she was wise,
but she d
Literature
To Return
I'm too young
to look back
in regret,
to forget
the feeling of freedom.
But despite my best efforts,
making a life for myself
became losing myself,
my voice,
my poetry,
to the rat race.
Life
and love
and work and grief
have weighed me down;
I'm all stifled dreams
and watery smiles
and chafed vocal cords,
and I can scarcely
recognize myself.
I've missed the lightness
of gravity defied
on swings at the park,
of teacups-turned-ferries
to memories past,
of hopes burning blue,
of love that felt
effortless.
So the other night,
in the spirit of revival,
I soared
on a kiddie swing
four hundred feet up--
a distance that, in my younger years,
I cou
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Written for DFC 2016 
The form: Brazilian Rhyming Haiku
The Brazilian Rhyming Haiku is exactly what it sounds like – a rhyming haiku. The syllabic count for the piece is 5,7,5 with cascading rhyme throughout. The last syllable of lines one and three rhyme and second and seventh syllables of line two rhyme as below:
* * * *A
*B****B
****A
Inspired by:origin()/pre15/5ee2/th/pre/f/2016/316/0/b/the_ghost_woman_by_damaimikaz-dao5n2d.png)
by 
DamaiMikaz
DFC 2016 is here!
DEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEF! SEEEEEEEE!
DFC (The December Form Challenge) 2016
Hi everyone, I hope you're all doing well. I can hardly believe that it's this time of year again, it feels like yesterday was May and I was looking at the rest of the year with wonder and promise. There are now only a few weeks left of 2016, most of them will be crazy with family gatherings and holiday preparations. I hope that you can also join me for DFC as it is here again, and promises to be better than ever.
Before I get too excited, I am sure there are some n00bs to DFC this year who will grace this page. For them, I present you with a brief History and explanation of DFC....
History of DFC (The December Form Challenge)
DFC (December Form Challenge) was created in 2008 as a way for me (kiwi-damnation) to get out of a literary rut. I was writing the same things with slightly different words and it had me feeling crappy. So i
The form: Brazilian Rhyming Haiku
The Brazilian Rhyming Haiku is exactly what it sounds like – a rhyming haiku. The syllabic count for the piece is 5,7,5 with cascading rhyme throughout. The last syllable of lines one and three rhyme and second and seventh syllables of line two rhyme as below:
* * * *A
*B****B
****A
Inspired by
by DamaiMikaz © 2016 - 2024 prettyflour
Comments18
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I feel like it's the beginning of a short story rather than a poem. It makes me want to know more.