Welcome to "Mid-Week Inspirations." It's a weekly prompt for those of you who might need a kick in the rear towards the middle/end of the week (I know I do.) Enjoy!
PS. If you use any of these as inspiration, we would appreciate it if you would link to the piece in your artist's comments!
The River of Time
Bring Me the Night
Terror and Madness
for those slipping into the background
Let me fly like a bird
a living framework
Fetching the Summer Lady
Let the music fill the night
From the depths
The Valley Of The Butterflies
Confessions of a KingThe sound of footsteps fell quietly on the garden grounds; short blades of rich green grass tickled the bare feet of the child who walked to the center of the garden to a large boulder. Like a tiny field mouse he soundlessly climbed up onto the rounded stone, his wide owl eyes instantly lifted to the countless numbers of starry hosts.:thumb404383629:
“What do you seek out here in the garden dear boy?” The voice of an ancient leader echoed behind the lad, the moon shaped head quickly turned until his gaze found that of the grandfather clock.
“To find out all the secrets of the stars, grandfather King.” The boy inscribed.
The old King plucked a stained blood red rose, captured between his pointer and middle finger he gradually walked up to the boulder and sat down next to the fragile child.
“What kind of secrets do you seek dear child?” The King inquired thoughtfully, the deepness of his voice leaked out wisdom. With the grace of an eagle his thumb stroked, caressed,
Monsters and Magic and GunsHe couldn’t quite believe what was happening in his small town. Everything was going crazy and Abbie Mills was at the center of it all. While the evidence piled up, Captain Frank Irving looked more and more desperately for a rational explanation. After all, there really weren’t headless horseman running around, magic spells, and a man who died during the Revolutionary War walking and talking in the present. As much as the evidence might prove otherwise. So far, Irving had been trying to keep a lid on the more... supernatural details and keep Abbie reined in. She would run in where angels feared to tread. And there was more than one reason Irving want to keep her safe.
“I really think something more is going on here,” Abbie insisted yet again, struggling to repress the tired sigh that wanted to escape her lips. “I know you don’t believe Crane but how do you explain all these weird cases? All the things I’ve been seeing?”
“I explain i
gardens all the timei. tonight
the stars make either
oddly shaped animals
stretching out in the zoo-dark
over the water
or they form
with misaligned brains
too far above the fields
to have ever
ii. gardens all the time
I spend too much of my life
not lighting candles
but I light this
watching its calm
into a room
while the sap
in the trees
rising and falling
no blood cells
just wood sounds
as the branches drum
JesseJesse sat alone on the chipped-paint porch, smoking a cigarette and looking up into the night sky. The sirens in the distance and a shouting couple from across the street didn’t interrupt his peace so much as they helped him relax. The city just had that effect on him. The traffic lights and crowded sidewalks and cars lined bumper to bumper were everyday scenery, and though it wasn’t his birthplace, this was his home. Coughing, Jesse flicked his lit papers and scattered the ash onto the ground. He watched the grey specks flutter and fall almost gracefully into the uncut grass. Why don’t you meditate? His friend’s words bounced around the walls of his head. It might just help you understand what you want in life. “I know what I want with my life,” Jesse spat as if the words he spoke put a sour taste in his mouth. Saliva hit the driveway with a satisfying splatter.
Never FadeHe didn't seem like he was there enough of the day Even though related, the memories seem so transparent now, but they never truly faded, the hug you got from him and the time spent was so great, but now that he's gone, you feel like what's left of him within will fade completely and you'll use sight of his face.
You see him less and less and then one day he's just gone. like none of the happy moments between you and him didn't even exist, Like he never existed at all, like the hug he gave you never happened. his voice and laugh seem like something out of a dream, those memories you had of him and those moments were realer than anything ever felt, everything seemed so real so why isn't he here now?
Did he leave just because, was there a reason, even so the time cherished between you and him are real, these feelings are the most powerful realty, as you age and time changes along with the world itself, know that it isn't anybody's fault, know that what's left of him will live on inside o
small talk Iwe adorn ourselves with
"velvet" and "silk" (polyester).
try to catch the eyes of onlookers
as we stand, stranded at our
street corner islands.
we think—how much more appealing
we must be, sculpting our eyebrows into
perpetually curious glances, and
dispelling unique theories copied from
entry-level philosophy text books.
Sometimes you have to let go.My eyes hurt with the sudden light filling the space around me. I have to blink a few times before my world becomes clear. You opened the cover and I was nearly blinded. I can't quite make out what you're trying to say to me. You seem confused. But that can't be right. Why would you be confused? You're showing me more of my world the longer you stay there. How is it that I haven't seen it before?
The contrast of black letters on the white pages create my existence. Darkness was all I knew, until you opened my book to read my story. Why did you do that, anyway? Why did you take this book from your shelf, when you had the choice of all the others? I think I should thank you for bringing light into my life. I can see myself, maybe not as you see me, but I can see nonetheless. I wonder if your world is like mine. Words for someone else to read, a story to keep someone company. I hope you stay with me a little longer. The light from your world is seeping into my story and I can feel warmth
the math of missing youit would take me
to walk from my
according to google maps,
it would take me about
and while that's still longer
than i would like to go
without seeing you,
it a much more appealing
the 3,157 that we
have to wait through
as it stands.
i've never enjoyed math,
i've never enjoyed missing you.
putting the two together
adds up to what is probably
the single most unpleasant thing
that i can think of.
In My EyesRain and tears are quite similar.
ScarfWhen the days are cold,
I hug you and keep you company.
When the days are hot,
I lay lazily about the house.
When the days are grey, outside and in,
I catch your tears, and let you snuggle into me.
When the first snow falls,
I will be there.
When the last snow melts,
I will await you again.