http://slow.writerscafe.org/buddhas-buddha The original writings of author buddhas-buddha en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776301350 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 My CW teacher loves this one the most -- I don't. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1173973/ Some "response to art" poem for creative writing class http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1173971/ high school is ending :(((( http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1166741/ I’m sorry I pushed the snooze button,Stopped the alarm at 4 AM, And slept in for another hour and a half(Instead of waking up like I told you I did).  I spent another half hour in the bathroom,Feeling the nearly-scalding water lightly fall on meAnd massage my b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1135300/ poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1135143/ Morning                                                                                   &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1128113/ The Lion King was my favorite movie when I was younger. I would sit there, crying shamelessly as I watched it; I still do, sometimes. The opening scene was always magical for me, as the sun rose over the horizon and a jumbled babble streamed out of the speakers. I would sing along to Circle of Life,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1128112/ You Are Not The One                                                                               &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1128109/ Wrote this on my way into NYC last weekend Also coming up with a title is hard i don't like this. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1019550/ We talked about gods and goddesses and religion; we lay on the soft moss that covered the boulders in the shade; we tickled our chins with buttercup flowers -- some rumored superstition about your chin turning yellow if you liked butter -- and we hung upside down from the monkey bars at the far end .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1019537/ I met him on a morning bike ride. Or in my dreams. It might’ve been a morning bike ride in my dreams. We climbed walls and we held hands.We danced and sang. We lay on the grass and smiled at the clouds, waved at them as they passed us byjust like the time, slowly floating f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018454/ over enthusiastic text-laughter can get awkward when autocorrected in http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018452/ If I thought �" even for just a second �" that I had the right, I would say it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018451/ I believe in balance like it’s a religion �" and I’ll make myself both a God and a Devil. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018450/ All that occupied the hallway was an endless droning hum and bright, fluorescent lights. And yet these two peripheral stimulants overwhelmed my senses. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018448/ One day, I’ll stumble through paved allies, hoplessly lost. It will be raining, my clothes will stick to my body, drenched and formless. I’ll hear jazzy cafe music and a soft hum of people talking. I’ll yearn for coffee and a book and a window seat, the warmth of a fire a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018447/ Those misty gray days when the soft fog blankets the earth, those days are the best. When I spend drizzly afternoons on the river, the light rain pitter-pattering on your hair and cheeks, I feel something. Sorry I can’t be more specific, but the thing is, the deepest rooted feelings are u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018446/ I inhale the smoke of the incense, harsh and angular words flowing smoothly out of my mouth. Shatra buddhi vinashayak, deepak joti namastitae. One whiff takes me back years and days and months, all at the same time. Divya Divya deepak kar, kanikundal moti har. Suddenly, I’m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018443/ She has thoughts on her mind, dreams in her head, all of them involving you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018442/ The jolt of electricity I felt in that single moment made such an impression that when I think of that one minute, my stomach drops and my heart beats faster and my face flushes with color. I can still picture it perfectly, the semi-darkness, the light that hovered between us, and you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018441/ My take on who the hater Anons are. This is what I do instead of writing a paper on Oscar Wilde’s satircal masterpieces. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018440/ A figure crept around the winding alleyway, lurking in the shadows and escaping the moon’s light. It paused for a second as a group of drunken men passed merrily across the street, bottles in hands, singing and laughing. When the men had passed, the shadow crossed the street in five smooth str.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018435/ She’s made of china, the little porcelain doll. Pale, lifeless, so frail and delicate. You may look at her, admire her beauty from afar, but you must not touch her; she may break into a thousand tiny pieces and become lost forever. But its the delicate things in life that need to be loved. Bec.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018434/ She gathered her white dress in her delicate hands and peeped into the room through the crack. A hundred people, at the least, all dancing and talking, hands around each other’s waists, laughing, smiling, masks covering their eyes. Red velvet curtains draped the floor length windows and out be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/buddhas-buddha/1018433/