I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me
at 1:30 ante meridiem
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself. Their
heartblinks as red cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves
where sky
becomes space,
where the radio
tower is the caller
calling.
Straight stillness
Start with just a little
sin in heart,
learn and build
and grow, forget
be better
with less,
anxiety latest
absorved personal
trait
sociopathic or
psychotic or
whatever you
call an unintentional
ongoing behavior
social mimicry
like a chameleon
that keeps the traits
it copies
I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me watching them
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself,
Heartblinks as red as cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves.
where sky
becomes space,
where the radio
tower is the caller
calling
in stillness.
The stillness in the air somehow reminded me of the brisk chilling breeze I felt as I watched my once best friend being lowered into his final resting place. Little did I realize this would be the closest I would ever be to him for the rest of my life.
There was a stillness in the air as the cops waited for their quarry. Nobody moved. The air weighed down on them with a thick, heavy humidity that squeezed every last drop of sweat out of their nerve-wracked bodies. An unfortunate black cat…
the night is still in the forest, where are the animals like the birds? They are sleeping like the people, insside their houses, the clock is still ticking even though no one is awake to care. I need more stilness in my days. the stillness of people hiding from the ones who always come in the end, in the end, waiting for the sounds, listening for the sounds of the ones who always come in the end,
I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me watching them
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself,
Heartblinks as red cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves
where sky
becomes space,
I yearned for quiet, for the cacophony in my head to cease, for my mind to be still. The thoughts roiled like hurricane waves, chasing each others tails and winding together to form a knot of tension between my shoulder blades, in the space where my heart used to be.
In the quiet of the afternoon, I can hear the birds in the trees above me. They seem to be quarreling, and it reminds me of this morning, when I left the house, slamming the door behind me, hearing him yelling after me through the wood of the door, and I just kept walking. Now, here in the park, I feel still and quiet and peaceful, and I don’t want to go back.
The silence was overwhelming, a wall that could not be penetrated. Not because he was incapable of speaking, but because he hadn’t the words within him, or the bravery, to open his mouth. She stood with her back to him, the breeze curling the ends of her hair, wisps of blonde, lemon juice and peroxide.
a time and place to connect to the inner being, a time to reflect on past, present and the future. A time to figure out mistakes and reflect on better choices in the next situation. A state of peace and tranquility. An existence without chaos and destruction.
Be stillstillstillstill
shake wave turn
flex grip
raise
push
rip tear cut bleed move
shake wave curse
fuck you
close your god damn
mouth. No?
Let me close it for you. Bitch.
Turn spin climb shred
Fold
build
find
open
shake wave turn
into the caller’s calling
my nerves are
violent violet
calm
still
I have my eyes closed, listen to my breathing. In and out, in and out. Nothing else exists. I feel my shoulders relax, I hand’t known they’d been so tense. The silence around and within me becomes more than lack of sound, it is a blanket enveloping me. Holding me. I am centered. I am perfectly still.
Everything was different. Calm almost. But the younger girl could tell something was out of place because of the stillness of the trees. They didn’t move, branches didn’t sway in the wind. They were frozen.
It scares you. How you can control it. How you can stop, rewind, or fast forward time at your will.
But what scares you most of all is how utterly still everything becomes when you stop time. Everything except you. That’s the worst part. Being alone in a still world.
And that’s why you’ll continue. That’s why you’ll continue to go back, reset every time you fail. Timeline after timeline.
Because without Madoka, your world is still, and you’re alone.
The stillness of the water in the stream behind our house would be a source of clam and a bounty of peace for me. I cannot thank my father enough for carving out its path when he was alive.
The water was dark and calm. No ripples, only the light shudder at the touch of wind. she bent over the water to see her reflection. the stars look even better in the water.
A stillness stole his breath, his lips thrummed with the heat of this one’s soul. Great was the sun that he tasted. Yet, when the kiss ended. He felt the world crumble into a night too cold and empty. What evil.
The stillness of the night was eerie after the caotic clashing of the battlefield, the piercing shriek of metal and unforgettable sound of tearjng flesh. Even thicking of it made her blood run cold, despite the hearty crackling of the nearby flames.
She wondered idly if she’d ever be warm again.
The air particles had frozen from the stillness through the air. Cutlery clinked and chimed but lips were mute. The table stretched for miles, him on one end and her on the other like the opposite ends of the spectrum..
is there a point in time.
can you remember it well enough to make it real
can you draw it out with your eyes open or closed
still as it was that night, immersive and thriving.
can i see it with you, can we put dimensions to this
take space for such energy to, be
–what’s life??
is there a point in time.
can you remember it well enough to make it real
can you draw it out with your eyes open or closed
still as it was that night, immersive and thriving.
do you recall the last time things began to suddenly seem to pause–
time wasn’t a moving thing,
things weren’t moving the way they should of, except her no doubt.
i have difficulties falling in her path, im a tree tryna trip with a small mouse.
well cat- she goes “meow” it’s a believable one; kinda great
it’s a subtle sound, it came and went and you heard it- no doubt
when’s the last time things began to suddenly seem to pause–
time wasn’t a moving thing,
things weren’t moving the way they should of, except her no doubt.
i have difficulties falling in her path, im a tree tryna trip with a small mouse.
well cat- she goes “meow” it’s a believable one; kinda great
Stuck. I have no idea what i’m doing. No where to go. Stuck beyond my limitations. No where to turn. No one to call for. I can’t help it. I’m stuck. Understanding has slowed down to a minimum. I found a way to override this thing now. All you have to do is submit without the name and come back and voila more time lol. I need this a lot more than i thought.
I don’t want to move. I feel like if I move, something bad is gonna happen, so I’m just gonna not move! I feel scared haha, what’s going on? Seriously?
There was a stillness in the air as Sharon took her last breath.
Thomas felt it. He put his right hand on his chest and struggled to take a deep breath as his left hand gently smoothed Sharon’s hair in place. He clutched her hand and gave her one final kiss on the forehead.
Amy felt it, too. Her mother was sick for a very long time. The stillness was like a weight pushing down on them, making everything seem unbearable. The stillness had been there for quite some time now, a constant reminder of Sharon’s impending death. Amy tugged at her father’s coat and led him away from her mother’s pale body.
Thomas looked at his daughter and patted her head before taking her hand. You look just like your mother, he thought. And a smile played at his lips.
It’s not in the rush. You won’t find it there,
nor in rumbling thunder of parties roaring yonder.
In stillness you will find it, that laughter that is home.
That smile that warms your heart and whispers it to life.
There was a stillness on the surface of the water that made it look artificial as it reflected the fireball. No birds or insects could be heard, and even the wind was observing a moment of silence. Lovett knew that in a few seconds, the first blast wave would arrive, and everything he could now see would be destroyed. Only then could life on the planet begin again.
A disgusted noise came from the back of his throat. “I don’t know, Hillary. I look out into this stillness and I can’t help but wonder what all this is *for*. Why… *why* are we here? Just. It doesn’t make any *sense*, Hils. It doesn’t, and you know it, and I just cant accept it.”
I could tell that my stillness was making you nervous. I was nervous myself and did not want to do the wrong thing. I was afraid you would notice the overabundance of excitement that was flowing within me. I have never felt more alive than in that moment.
There is no stillness before this storm, I’ve warned you. Eyes will flash like lightning. Hands will clap like thunder. The wind my love, it doesn’t whisper, it howls. Provoke me, and I will embrace you with my destruction.
Yawn. Stretch. Toss. Turn. The dream clouds are ready to flood the plains. But I’m restless. I always feel like I’m falling and jolt myself awake again. Who knows how this pattern was established, but I trip before I fall asleep. There is no stillness. No peaceful drift towards slumber. And then I think of him and my eyes flutter. Wonder fills my thoughts: a caress, a kiss, any number of things I miss.
I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me
at 1:30 ante meridiem
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself. Their
heartblinks as red cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves
where sky
becomes space,
where the radio
tower is the caller
calling.
Straight stillness
Start with just a little
sin in heart,
learn and build
and grow, forget
be better
with less,
anxiety latest
absorved personal
trait
sociopathic or
psychotic or
whatever you
call an unintentional
ongoing behavior
social mimicry
like a chameleon
that keeps the traits
it copies
I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me watching them
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself,
Heartblinks as red as cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves.
where sky
becomes space,
where the radio
tower is the caller
calling
in stillness.
Not real sure what is going on right now but here are some words to read. Thats all. Thanks…
The stillness in the air somehow reminded me of the brisk chilling breeze I felt as I watched my once best friend being lowered into his final resting place. Little did I realize this would be the closest I would ever be to him for the rest of my life.
As she walked through her woods in the early mornings light, the stillness of that time brought back memories of her most favorite past.
There was a stillness in the air as the cops waited for their quarry. Nobody moved. The air weighed down on them with a thick, heavy humidity that squeezed every last drop of sweat out of their nerve-wracked bodies. An unfortunate black cat…
To be continued!
none
the night is still in the forest, where are the animals like the birds? They are sleeping like the people, insside their houses, the clock is still ticking even though no one is awake to care. I need more stilness in my days. the stillness of people hiding from the ones who always come in the end, in the end, waiting for the sounds, listening for the sounds of the ones who always come in the end,
I’ve been
writing everything but
what I know I should.
It’s about the caller’s calling.
It’s about brainstorming a storyboard
of a night told in reverse
from early morning
to late night
because then it would be
like a normal shift
from early morning
to late night
in forward.
It would be about the
unknown wickedness
wrapping my soul
barbed coils piercing
my values.
I breathe relief. Puncture
the anger, relieve me of it.
Is my punishment eternal?
But it’s not the same, I can’t
start in reverse.
All the subdued anger
but no subduer in the weak
of night.
The stillness of dusk.
I am alert for the entirety,
though short
and insignificant,
of night. I know
the dusk written across
scars, more scars still.
There is one redeeming
quality, that outweighs
anything.
That renders the anger in the first
half of the night
and its echo in the second
meaningless.
In stillness
they watch me watching them
and I dream
my cherry dream awake;
I am me looking down on myself
looking up at myself,
Heartblinks as red cherries
as bright as stars
pin themselves
where sky
becomes space,
I yearned for quiet, for the cacophony in my head to cease, for my mind to be still. The thoughts roiled like hurricane waves, chasing each others tails and winding together to form a knot of tension between my shoulder blades, in the space where my heart used to be.
Only in stillness do you notice the beauty of the bumblebee.
In the quiet of the afternoon, I can hear the birds in the trees above me. They seem to be quarreling, and it reminds me of this morning, when I left the house, slamming the door behind me, hearing him yelling after me through the wood of the door, and I just kept walking. Now, here in the park, I feel still and quiet and peaceful, and I don’t want to go back.
The silence was overwhelming, a wall that could not be penetrated. Not because he was incapable of speaking, but because he hadn’t the words within him, or the bravery, to open his mouth. She stood with her back to him, the breeze curling the ends of her hair, wisps of blonde, lemon juice and peroxide.
My voice
of the daylight
rips into night’s
calm void
It penetrates
a star’s inside
splitting
exploding
Destroyer of stars
space can’t stop it
wrecking
breaking
quiet’s definition erased
shhh……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
a time and place to connect to the inner being, a time to reflect on past, present and the future. A time to figure out mistakes and reflect on better choices in the next situation. A state of peace and tranquility. An existence without chaos and destruction.
Be stillstillstillstill
shake wave turn
flex grip
raise
push
rip tear cut bleed move
shake wave curse
fuck you
close your god damn
mouth. No?
Let me close it for you. Bitch.
Turn spin climb shred
Fold
build
find
open
shake wave turn
into the caller’s calling
my nerves are
violent violet
calm
still
control.
Residue of restlessness. Activity’s shadow. The calming hush we are all destined for. Simple peace.
I have my eyes closed, listen to my breathing. In and out, in and out. Nothing else exists. I feel my shoulders relax, I hand’t known they’d been so tense. The silence around and within me becomes more than lack of sound, it is a blanket enveloping me. Holding me. I am centered. I am perfectly still.
Everything was different. Calm almost. But the younger girl could tell something was out of place because of the stillness of the trees. They didn’t move, branches didn’t sway in the wind. They were frozen.
It scares you. How you can control it. How you can stop, rewind, or fast forward time at your will.
But what scares you most of all is how utterly still everything becomes when you stop time. Everything except you. That’s the worst part. Being alone in a still world.
And that’s why you’ll continue. That’s why you’ll continue to go back, reset every time you fail. Timeline after timeline.
Because without Madoka, your world is still, and you’re alone.
The stillness of the water in the stream behind our house would be a source of clam and a bounty of peace for me. I cannot thank my father enough for carving out its path when he was alive.
The water was dark and calm. No ripples, only the light shudder at the touch of wind. she bent over the water to see her reflection. the stars look even better in the water.
A stillness stole his breath, his lips thrummed with the heat of this one’s soul. Great was the sun that he tasted. Yet, when the kiss ended. He felt the world crumble into a night too cold and empty. What evil.
The stillness of the night was eerie after the caotic clashing of the battlefield, the piercing shriek of metal and unforgettable sound of tearjng flesh. Even thicking of it made her blood run cold, despite the hearty crackling of the nearby flames.
She wondered idly if she’d ever be warm again.
The air particles had frozen from the stillness through the air. Cutlery clinked and chimed but lips were mute. The table stretched for miles, him on one end and her on the other like the opposite ends of the spectrum..
is there a point in time.
can you remember it well enough to make it real
can you draw it out with your eyes open or closed
still as it was that night, immersive and thriving.
can i see it with you, can we put dimensions to this
take space for such energy to, be
–what’s life??
is there a point in time.
can you remember it well enough to make it real
can you draw it out with your eyes open or closed
still as it was that night, immersive and thriving.
do you recall the last time things began to suddenly seem to pause–
time wasn’t a moving thing,
things weren’t moving the way they should of, except her no doubt.
i have difficulties falling in her path, im a tree tryna trip with a small mouse.
well cat- she goes “meow” it’s a believable one; kinda great
it’s a subtle sound, it came and went and you heard it- no doubt
when’s the last time things began to suddenly seem to pause–
time wasn’t a moving thing,
things weren’t moving the way they should of, except her no doubt.
i have difficulties falling in her path, im a tree tryna trip with a small mouse.
well cat- she goes “meow” it’s a believable one; kinda great
Stuck. I have no idea what i’m doing. No where to go. Stuck beyond my limitations. No where to turn. No one to call for. I can’t help it. I’m stuck. Understanding has slowed down to a minimum. I found a way to override this thing now. All you have to do is submit without the name and come back and voila more time lol. I need this a lot more than i thought.
I don’t want to move. I feel like if I move, something bad is gonna happen, so I’m just gonna not move! I feel scared haha, what’s going on? Seriously?
white, the trees are white, the ground is white, the sky is white and the white goes on.
There was a stillness in the air as Sharon took her last breath.
Thomas felt it. He put his right hand on his chest and struggled to take a deep breath as his left hand gently smoothed Sharon’s hair in place. He clutched her hand and gave her one final kiss on the forehead.
Amy felt it, too. Her mother was sick for a very long time. The stillness was like a weight pushing down on them, making everything seem unbearable. The stillness had been there for quite some time now, a constant reminder of Sharon’s impending death. Amy tugged at her father’s coat and led him away from her mother’s pale body.
Thomas looked at his daughter and patted her head before taking her hand. You look just like your mother, he thought. And a smile played at his lips.
It’s not in the rush. You won’t find it there,
nor in rumbling thunder of parties roaring yonder.
In stillness you will find it, that laughter that is home.
That smile that warms your heart and whispers it to life.
There was a stillness on the surface of the water that made it look artificial as it reflected the fireball. No birds or insects could be heard, and even the wind was observing a moment of silence. Lovett knew that in a few seconds, the first blast wave would arrive, and everything he could now see would be destroyed. Only then could life on the planet begin again.
A disgusted noise came from the back of his throat. “I don’t know, Hillary. I look out into this stillness and I can’t help but wonder what all this is *for*. Why… *why* are we here? Just. It doesn’t make any *sense*, Hils. It doesn’t, and you know it, and I just cant accept it.”
I could tell that my stillness was making you nervous. I was nervous myself and did not want to do the wrong thing. I was afraid you would notice the overabundance of excitement that was flowing within me. I have never felt more alive than in that moment.
There is no stillness before this storm, I’ve warned you. Eyes will flash like lightning. Hands will clap like thunder. The wind my love, it doesn’t whisper, it howls. Provoke me, and I will embrace you with my destruction.
Yawn. Stretch. Toss. Turn. The dream clouds are ready to flood the plains. But I’m restless. I always feel like I’m falling and jolt myself awake again. Who knows how this pattern was established, but I trip before I fall asleep. There is no stillness. No peaceful drift towards slumber. And then I think of him and my eyes flutter. Wonder fills my thoughts: a caress, a kiss, any number of things I miss.