20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

Loneliness creeps in

A slow-rolling fog

Time, a numbing existence

Weakening resolve

Replacing logic with

breathless emotion

As the heart of the soul

Weeps with frustration.


Restlessly dangling

Such a delicate string

Frayed by ambiguity

Connected only by a

Thin thread of sheer will.

Pensive, patient passion

The tiny, clinging knot –

A cardinal memory

Growing less vivid

With each day’s distance.


Assuaging fear

Clouds of indecision

Scatter, revealing

A solitary stranger

Holding on to nothing

An unfettered lifeline snaps

Plunged humbly and absolutely

Swimming against the current

Drowning in a sea of whys.

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Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

Deafening silence approaches

A swarming tempest of despair

Attaching emptiness to, first the eyes,

Then the smile,

Finally, the words.

Bitter air abandons eternity

Flanking the distance

Between two misguided souls.

Avoiding desolation –

Approaching desperation.

Pasty white expectations

Glare accusingly

From every shadowed corner

And glide seamlessly over

Shocking details

To havens of brave disillusion

Where the gravity of

A beautiful, ineffable mystery

Has never pulled them

Into a forbidden embrace.

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Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

The silky sound of your voice

Wraps around me like warmth

Sheathing my soul in comfort

Completing all the voids

Soothing spent emotions

Allowing me the pleasure

Of losing myself

In this moment.


Your words glide freely

Through the echoes in my life

Caressing my hollow spirit

Illuminating obscure corners

Vitalizing my senses

Punctuating each inflection

As they flow gently

From your lips.

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Silent trumpet sounds


The oblivious and innocent

Into vacuous voids,

ethereal eclipses -

Angelic wings dance blithely

Dripping tiny baubles of hope

Melting in mid-air

Dreams, splayed like kindling

Beneath a roaring fire

Where sparks ignite the dirt

With stars too heavy to fly toward the moon

Suffocating lest fingertips burn

Leaving ashy-white memories

Subtly heralding promises of pleasure.

Etched on mental panes

Snowflake images of perfection

transforming teardrops

with the heat from one

quiet sigh.


I miss you

Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

Until the earth claims our bones

Or the wind catches our ashes

There will always be tomorrow

We will always meet again.

Your eyes will seek my soul

In the first light of day.

My lips will call your name

As raindrops echo in the night.

Your touch will melt my heart

As surely as the sound of your voice

Will make it whole again.

Separately, together

We will remember

Many crossroads

And wonder where the next one


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Lost in the Music


Add your thoughts here… (optional)

Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

Lost in the music…

Floating down a lazy, winding river

Feeling raindrops freckle my face

Swept into the sensuality –

A romantic interlude


De capo, crescendo, al fine

Rhythmic and intense

Senses daring to relax

Movement of intimate arms

so familiar – they could have been

extracted from the soul.

Life’s riddles explained

If only for a beat

Allowing all the questions – pesante –

Individuality – freedom – relief

No judgment

A novice will never recognize

A single sharp note

Amidst perfect composition

Lost in the music…

Lost in the moment


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Private intimations

Stun and astonish,

With subtle divulgence,

Scattered scantily

Amid common communication

A monotone revelation

Drifting on halcyon air.

An ominous precursor -

Flashing red lights,

Bells clanging, flags waving

Madly with such tragic bane -

Even clouds burrow humbly,

Shrouding rays of the sun

Awed and moved

Propitious foretelling,

A brilliant full-moon flight

Withering silence

simultaneously freed

And paralyzed

By the escape of such

Transcendent truth

Rationed to a rapt mind.

Trust of the un-trusting

Meandering beyond boundaries

Of a self-conscious mind.

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Forest Floor

There is a silvery shape on the forest floor

A silhouette?  A shadow?

A tiny stream of consciousness

Trickling over calamity and joy.

Smooth stones of worry roll and tumble

Under a flickering thumbnail moon

Turning upended tree stumps

Into imaginary monsters with their

Arthritic roots reaching out to embrace and terrify.

Silence amplifies the scurry of squirrels

Scavenging for buried treasure – a delicate balance

Of instinct and grace interrupting

Earth’s sweet aroma

Curling the senses with lofty puffs of wood smoke

Burning memories into deep ravines

Threading an essentially thin lifeline

Through the mind, a silhouette,

The body, a shadow,

And the soul, a tiny stream of consciousness -

A trinity arranged into a silvery shape

on the forest floor.

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At the end of today

At the end of this road

In the middle of a forest

With fluffy white clouds

Segmented by interwoven branches

Waving overhead in the gusty wind

Blurring the lines

Blurring the vision

Eyes squinting

In desperate attempt to create

Sense out of chaos

Comfort out of quiet

Peace with the loneliness

Instead of flailing in discontent

Stirring waves that threaten

To drown the composure

Flood the dreams

And wash hope away like a

Ketchup stain on a favorite white shirt

A tiny beam of light

Streaming in from the unknown

Offering exposure

Offering connection

Expecting nothing less than acceptance

Still looking up

In the midnight of forever

At a crossroad



Heartbreak strikes


Paralyzing pain

Dull thr0b -

Afterthought of thunder

Distant and invisible

constant tremors of memory

awaken with sunset.


Quiet, angelic stars

Twinkle a ballad of loss

Muffled clouds -

Confusion rolls feverishly

Over the horizon

Escaping with loneliness

Seeking comaraderie

In the navy blue sky.

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Thousands of tiny aristocrats

Descend from on high

creating quite a stir

with their elegant air ballet

in bawdy, chameleon costumes

belying proper nobility

while grace abides

modest humility

Spirited twists and tasteful turns

land peacefully in the unlikely design

of a luxurious yellow carpet with bright blood stains

where rests the plebian shadows

of naked limbs stretched

languidly in repose.

Writer’s Block

The white page stares blankly
A pen hovers above – loaded,
Poised, yet unable to release the ink.

Then slowly
Words begin to fall
One at a time
Like beautifully colored leaves
From the oak tree
Just before winter

Then more swiftly,
Like unarmed soldiers
Rushing onto the battlefield.

When the prolific stream trickles to a halt
A picture pain has painted
Draws its last jagged breath
And settles, exhausted
Onto the stained white page.

Originally posted on angelkiss134us:

I could float away on the rays of the melting sun

Or lie helpless beneath slivers of light

Paralyzing my senses, rendering me a shadow

Forever cast over this life.


I could bequeath my embittered soul to the alluring likes of the devil

Or relinquish control to an angelic force

Struggling fiercely in benign attempt

To satisfy my restless mind.


I could stumble terrified onto the stage without knowing all my lines

Or I could toss the script into the wind

Letting fate attend forgotten details

Until a masterpiece is woven

Out of the dusty pieces of me.

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Brilliant blooms of Autumn

Spray the horizon with

red, yellow and orange hues of sadness

Reflecting the final tiny shards of illumination

As daylight slowly weeps behind

The jagged skyline.


Misty rain calms the changing wind,

Bluffing the clarity of reality

Vivid angles curl in ambiguous circles

Lines of division swirl

Confusing the point of indecision

With a beginning or an end.


Saturated air chills from the inside out

Shivering and silent

Like a wild animal stalking prey

Unwilling to make a sound

Unable to prevent an inevitable freeze

Of apathy and fear.


Buried deep, beneath the layers

Crumpled and decayed with the turn of many seasons

A primal strength whimpers.

Depth can only muffle the scream.

Darkness can only dim the light.

Gaining courage

Boiling toward the surface

At once realizing and relinquishing the pain.


The answers aren’t lying in the middle of a road,

Blowing in the breeze

like dandelion wishes,

Or drifting dreamily on a current’s

journey to the sea.

As illusive as time.  Precious as an unearthed stone.

A moment’s lifetime.  A lifetime gone.

Following the center line,

Abiding the “STAY OFF GRASS” sign

planted firmly by the walk,

Or floating a lifeboat full of grateful

heartbeats of hope ashore,

Will never change the punctuation.



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