Tara > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

My muse has turned prophet and has me spinning allegorical prose. Could this be the Divine's way of guiding his seeker? Far be it from me to tur..

I've seen hope. It has eyes. Brown. Deep set. Unforgiving. It sighs. Trembling with each sideways glance. The faint whisper of desire. Th..

It is late and I await my Orpheus. The night is heavy in silence. Darkness overwhelms. In despair I imagine your lyre calling to me. I am asha..

She wrote to keep death at bay. Some nights there was a fury to her scribbling As if the demons were close on her heels. There was a tenderness to ..

I. Burnt rust lines the shoreline. Gulls peck and grope the sand. The sky turns grey. II. A lone osprey surveys her nest. There is a tearf..

I did not know you; You, for whom these tears are shed. I only know your daughter and her pain. There are photographs spread about the fune..

i've noticed when you begin to tell the Truth you cannot feel your feet anymore. it's as if they've disappeared. like the truth is testing you ..

I think of her and wonder if the words were her savior or her demise. Could they have opened wounds not yet ready to be exposed? Perhaps the dem..

This will be the poem I write on a kite So my words will soar Dip and pummel. I imagine someone getting hit in the eye With my dangerous words Bl..

Once Once I shouldered a weighty world Believing it my burden. I scurried and chided Loved and lost the essence of me. Once in my youth I he..