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aziicea
a good poem sometimes takes years to write
13 Posts • 20 Followers • 4 Following
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aziicea

Sand

She laughs, a bell tinkling along the shore of a windy beach. Her voice fades away and the only thing left is the sand and the sky.

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aziicea

Dust

Sometimes I feel as though I am breaking into a million pieces, all the different parts and pieces of myself shattering and scattering into the wind. It feels as though a single breath can blow me away to a distant place only the stars can see. The days slip through my grasp like sand in an hourglass, my time r u n n i n g o u t . I am glass, so fragile that one touch will fracture all the best parts of me so that all my good qualities are stripped away until I am nothing anymore.

Challenge
Shall we dance? Rhyming poem no more than 248 lines. (A Prose Gold for a Month Scholarship Challenge)
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aziicea

Your Eyes

Hey can we dance?

I don't want to come on too strong,

Only to put you in a trance

And to move the night along.

I noticed you from across the room

You lit up like a firework

And then my heart went boom

I thought we could work on our footwork?

Your eyes seem so timeless

I got lost the moment you opened them

They were the only thing not lifeless

Always ready to condemn

So I thought we could dance?

Just for an instance

Could we give it a chance?

Then we'll close the distance.

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aziicea

Cellist #1

The cellist draws the bow back in one fluid motion. A long note is emitted and a tear falls from his eye. My vision blurs and I step back, astonished. Who knew that one note could make you feel like this. I quietly leave the bar and breathe in the cool night air.

Challenge
Label Yourself
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aziicea

Just Me

To myself, I have always been a bit eccentric. I find myself obsessed with some things, such as TV shows or books, which could also label me a nerd/geek. I call myself by many names, and others do the same. I say I am kind and smart, is what others would say. But I am sick of just being kind. I am so much more. I am a writer, as evidenced here. I am a secret keeper, I am trustworthy, I am a martial artist and a reader. I am not just "kind." In the end though, I would label myself with the title: Just Me. You cannot sum up a person with a single word; there are so many more moving parts that come with being someone. A person may be the sum of their parts, but you cannot take a word from the dictionary and plaster it on their soul, telling them that they are this one thing. That is why Just Me is my label to myself. It is not one single word, one single emotion or descriptor, it's just me.

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aziicea

Memories

An old photograph lies on the table, yellowed by age

Children with ice cream dripping down their chins

A summer long, long ago

People sit out on their porches

Neighbors talk

When the night got dark

They all looked up

To see a sky unclouded by pollution

And gazed at the stars

As it grew late, the fireflies came out

The children laughed and caught them in jars

Their parents sent them in a few moments later

Lights in the houses went off one by one

And then there was silence

A peaceful quiet

Uncluttered by the drone of cars rushing by

Just... quiet

And there was a moment

When the night took a breath

Paused, waiting for the first glimpse of day

Exhaled as the first rays of sun stretched on the horizon

The night went to sleep, and day had begun

An old photograph lies on the table, yellowed by age

A moment frozen in time

Of a summer long, long ago

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aziicea

Night Terrors

A little girl stands alone in a corner of a dark room. She glances fearfully around, although at a glance it seems to be there is no one there. Upon closer inspection, you can see that the shadows are moving. They twist themselves into terrible shapes of demons and monsters. The little girl cowers, holding her tiny hands close to her chest. She cries out, hoping someone will hear her and come to save her. Tears run down her face, tracing tracks through the grime and dirt stained upon her face.

The floorboards creak and moan, and the girl looks up, thinking someone has come. She is right, but not the person she wanted. A figure made of shadow stands before her. It reaches its long arms towards her and she backs as far away as she can. The shadow twists its face into a horrifying smile. The little girl cries out once more as the shadow envelops her. Then there is nothing.

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The old house had never struck the old man as something to be afraid of, but on this night, he heard the screams of a child coming from within. He started, and dialed 911. The police got there within minutes, but it was too late. There was no sign of the child, or the attacker. The house became silent once more.

Challenge
Hello humans, I'm___________, and I'm here to deliver an urgent message to you:
Who is this mysterious messenger? And what is the message? :0 Be sure to tag me in the comment section of your piece so I can get a notification & read your work ;)
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aziicea in Fiction

Future

Hello humans, I'm from the future, and I'm here to deliver an urgent message to you: you need to stop eating tide pods now. It will eventually corrupt all of your internal systems and create a hybrid that will wipe out all life ohfn Earth. Please stop now! Thanks!!

-The future

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aziicea

skies of darkness

the baker bakes his bread

the lawyer shakes his head

the dancer takes a bow

the farmer milks a cow

the painter paints a sky

the mother says goodbye

the student reads a book

the chef learns how to cook

the singer sings their song

the crowd all sings along

the cat prowls in the night

the eyes are meant to give a fright

Challenge
Chilling, dark, and sinister...
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aziicea in Poetry & Free Verse

A Noise in the Dark

I wake up... But am I awake? All around me is darkness; I can't see a thing. Behind me I hear a clicking noise. I spin around, peering through the darkness to try and find the source of the noise to no avail. The clicking soon turns to an awful screeching noise. I cover my ears to try and block it out. It doesn't help. This... sound, I think I have heard it before. It sounds like the nails of my old teacher on the blackboard that she used to get us to stop doing what we were doing. It is like that, only much worse. The sound gets closer, closer still. I back up as far as I can, only to find myself pressed against a cool dark wall.

The noise gets me again and I scream, the sound echoing around me in waves. I feel something sharp and smooth caress my cheek and I shudder away. In an instant, the monster has sliced my cheek and I feel warm blood dripping down my face. I know that this is the end for me. I can only hope that it ends quickly, but I fear that this thing has other plans for me.