http://slow.writerscafe.org/aica092 The original writings of author Angelica en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776183200 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Dr. Quack says I’m just dandy,all I need is a pill for each ill.It’s not like having candy,I feel my innards will spill. A blue one to help me breathe air,a red one to stop allergies.Side affects bring nausea, not fair!Another comes to fill my arteries. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244695/ Outside the sun’s waitingbehind clouds that crywith worlds that don’t belong.My mouth hangs drywith watering eyes.Tell me why we live like this. Please keep us safe and warminside your arms like the sun.Shine over me, shine. We’re broken toys who.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244694/ Cry child, oh child cry, cry, cry,but you are no child, just an ugly adultleaning on her child who is now the motherwhile you, her child. Endless nights you spend,wasted, high, and depressed while shecleans up after mess after mess. You don’t see the innocence has gone,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244693/ Nonsense words spit as endless giggles echo,there are not me, but a nervous habit.As my brain tries to contemplate,gibberish recycles in my dry mouth.My brain can speak eloquently,but all is lost when translationhits my slow mouth.With the nervous habit you see,an inane face combines.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244692/ Drip             Drip             Drip         Drip.         Drop         Drop         D.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244691/ Sweet beats bounce to drums in my ear,clever riffs sooth with unwritten lyrics,melodies of pure genius soon appear.My body is stripped down to the basics. I fall into a trance of a dreamy world,Carried away, I’m floating on air.My mind no longer stands twirled,I no longer .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244690/ I lack wit, and I don’t speak eloquently.I lack power, and sometimes act delinquently.I lack style with grace, and have two left feet.I lack great talent, and can’t hold a beat.I lack manners, and laugh like a dog.I lack keen eyes, and stand under fog.You saw great genius.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244688/ I’m sorry Father, I’m sorry Mother,but I am not your dear credulous child.The book of little truths fat lies smothernever had a strong hold or had me beguiled. I’m an inquisitor whose been refused vindication,and with time I saw all the gaping holes.These harry b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244686/ Slaving over a grill of loveyour hands burn through flesh.You never had the right gloveto keep your worn body fresh. Each day you slave giving morefor your customer that flies off shore.That’s the one you truly wantto run about and flaunt. Yet, you lay unseen .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244684/ With my striking sword I’ll slice through papercutting words to be forever engraved.Witch each slice I’ll bleed ink staining the purewith the ills of my pains and pleasures. I’ll cut my heart whole plastering it on paperfor the world to see, but only love can handl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244683/ I once saw an emerald elephant,but it turned to be untrue.It was really a silly sycophantwho made me go “Achoo!”. It sat kissing my furry feetwhile saying “Bless You!”,but I saw through the moldy meatas it’s head never had a clue. I pla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244682/ Every day I run, I sprint, and jogto get away, far from this heart.With swollen ankles I try to part;I’m still sitting in the fog. Looking in eyes cleared of smogI move my lips away from a mask.No words omit from a simple task;I’m still sitting in the fog.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/244681/ When I'm eighteenI'll pretend I'm a queen.I'll run and dance throwing a muck.I'll bury the nightmareand not stand in despairas I'll never start to cluck. When I'm twenty fiveI'll strive for success singing livewhile wearing a pink dress full of glitter.I'll sing songs full o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241582/ With each living day a never ending feud persistsas crimson slices though sunlight yellow endingin the royal blue of night. Lighting strikes as thunder follows, but the clash of sound andcolor do not hinder the commotion of the livingdown below the skies of two feuding lovers.&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241541/ 1:00 AM and I’m still here,sleep will never come I fear.So much drudging to be done,but I’m having so much fun.I wonder what’ll happen if I keep this up.Will any be good or should I changeup?I’m not sure what my real forte is,but writing sure is bliss... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241289/ Time and time again I must sitrearranging thoughts in the mayhemthat is my wretched mind. Laughinginsanely while crying tears I standconfused while being amused. Up and down I swing from point to pointlooking for meaning as I was borna glass child who grew into a lady with.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241288/ With my pen I make love to virgin papersSpilling blood with spots while formingletters into words with grace. Endless nights I spend in love as inkbleeds gently through a mass of thoughtsand uttering of emotions. It’s not about creating the perfect poem,but rele.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241287/ When I push my glasses up to my faceand take my pen into my skinny hand,do the words I write mean anything? Do the words I write mean anythingas I bleed ink all over virgin papersfor a lone love never returned? For a lone love never returnedI splatter emotions onto a dirt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241286/ Words run wild before me;I am their tamer as my penis my whip of forbidden power. With this pen I train these wordsto bend at my will while they train meto be stronger, to be better. With this pen I place these words in formswhile truth ties with lies twistingwords .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241284/ A little girl sits with wide eyesstaring at a luminous angel’s face.Sweet songs sing high in the skiesas his smile her eyes do trace. Staring at a luminous angel’s faceshe sets true emotion in disguise.As his smile her eyes do traceit’s who he calls for she.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241283/ In a plane I set off for the land of sunny days,but my mind is in a haze as my body in a craze.With each mile away a salty drop falls swiftlyas I try to bring a smile with much difficulty. Animals laugh in where dreams come true,but I stay silent bidding them a poor adieu.How .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241280/ Worried minds set off questions.Orders are not set asRed alarms startleKind but ignorant handsIn unknown devicesNeeding tending for fingers toGrasp green papers for bills. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241279/ A brilliant drop fell on willow tree.Down the drop fell caressing the leaveson limbs weary and tangled. More and more dozens came kissing eachlush leaf withering away. The worn trunksheltered under a cloud of drooping arms. The sun ceased to shine as wintry windstook .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/241277/ In the skies the colors varyas the sun and moon embrace a dance.The air above is bliss in what is merryas the stars kiss the sky in romance. As the sun and moon embrace a dance,the world stands below in the contrary.As the stars kiss the sky in romance,Grey clouds cry in wha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234906/ A lid tight onis hard to con.A bottle so robustis hard to grasp if you must.Don’t shake the bottleif you want to throttlefor none will come outthen a lot will spout.How the helldo I open this shell? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234456/ Walking away from a car crash of a heart,red lights of an ambulance flash brightly enough.Desperately choking on my own salty tears,I try to catch your hands in mine. If love is not suppose to hurt dreadfully,I guess I’m just a pile of broken pieces.Maybe I’m not fit t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234455/ Bathing in a pool of mirrors,skies of questions arise here.Who’s that person standing near?Eyes reflect the unknown clear. Skies of questions arise here,Will someone aside appear?Eyes reflect the unknown clear,brows furrow in seeming queer. Will someone aside .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234454/ Whining combines with anger and hateas disappointed lovers fight taking the bait. Fat fists fly sailing with broken tears,Screeching screams sound wailing with secret fears. Red blotched blubber faces stand growing heavyas hungry hatred and grumpy grudges never levy.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234453/ Anvils pull eyelids heavyas a teacher drones on and on.Eyes yearn to slide shutas a teacher keeps blowing up. Curtains want to closein a soft bed full of warmth.Doors want to shut bringingsweet dreams of you, to be with you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/234452/ After miles of running from end to endI lay dumb and numb in an athlete’s euphoria.Yet, it only lasts for straggling secondsas my heart’s beat pulsates through my veins. Images of him lay humming in my mind from bend to bend.I try to shake, but break as they are my e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/232558/ Pretty paints have diminished and gone.Papers have crumbled and disappeared.Pencils and brushes have dulled and broke.All that’s left is a heart bleeding ink on a lonely notebook.I just want to paint pretty pictures for you, damn it! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/232549/ Silly one-liners spewfrom the mouths of foolish boys.They love me they say, love not I say.Drool drips from quivering lipswhen I ask why they love me so. Love of foolish boysis as hollow as an empty shell.They know not of love, but lust,lust that combusts into kids having .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/230669/ An insatiable mother holds a bucketof cleaning supplies dear to her heart.She calls for perfection as she’d go to Nantucketjust to find the very best to take part. Scrubbing the rooms and the tiled floorshe kills the bacteria to keep her children safe.She calls for perfe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/230668/ A million thoughts start on paper,they all lead to one.Words start and end to finish,but they lay incomplete.One work out of many is complete,but it still needs something–my heart, my love, you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/230667/ For hours I speak from end to end,but my lips never flinch as my mouthis shut through silence. With pencils and brushes I speakthrough images drawn. Soft light curvesdepict equanimity as strong sharp lines comethough animus. Emotions fluctuate as colorspaint black and white .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/230666/ Up and down the fingers dance on ivory keys.String are softly beat as smooth tonesring sweetly entwining in the air.Notes mix and blend together to chordsdelivering songs played for only one. Up and down beats bounce against onyx keys.String are beat furiously as irregular sou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/230665/ Clay in the hands of a broken artist;You mold me a hundred times over.This is wrong, this is wrong, you say as the owner.Disgruntled and befouled, I’m not pliable.A hundred times you mold me over;clay in the hands of a broken artist. Carved out of stone by shaking hands;.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229228/ Stepping out onto the stage my footsteps echo.Standing in the spotlight, I stand naked.No clothes, no make-up, no masks -- just my bare self. A crowd before me, I only see one.I only see the vibrant angel I need to hear me.Singing, I sing my heart out. I sing for the world .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229227/ Spinning, spinning, spinning around,the pen twirls in a dance on paper.Writing, writing, writing surrounds,the words bleed from a pen on paper.Hungry, hungry, hungry for knowledge,the words chomp around meaning on paper.Staring, staring, staring for answers,the solvent suffocates i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229224/ Dreams lay broken in the hands of a little girl,but they were the dreams of another.Dreams for a little girl, dreamt by parentswho always dreamed big dreams,lay shattered across the tiled floor. A little girl no more, she dreams. She dreamsher own dreams, but the rope of old d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229223/ Free forming vinesentangle in one anotheras a whole pumpinglove throughout the veinsto blood red roses. Vines tangle in one anotheras hands holding an embrace.Sharp thorns embeddedin the bodies protectlove from the outside world. Whatever comesto tear the vine.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229221/ So called poems layencrypted in symbolic words.Do meanings appear? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229220/ Striking a penas I am bored.A perfect tenfor I have scored. My mind is set.Only one thing to say.I will not fret,It’ll get out my way. Nothing to do,I sit and think.Telling others to shooI think I’ll shrink. My heart wants to speak,but i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229219/ Swish Swish.Sorry, what did you say?Swish Swish.Please repeat if you may.Swish Swish.There are potatoes on my nose?Swish Swish.Oh, there are tomatoes on my toes?Swish Swish.Sorry, please do not slaughter.Swish Swish.My ears are clogged with water. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229218/ Spring break is almost hereas students sit in class waiting.A couple more week until it’s time to cheerwhen the school’s animals are set free for a moment.A rumble of bangs and screams all ears will hearas the animals come down stampeding.All the vacationers spots will be ful.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229217/ I used to spend my whole days drawingwhatever sparks my imagination sent,but those sparks have long been forgottenas my heart came taking over.Then I spent my whole days thinkingunable to pick up my charcoal and sketchpad.Instead, a black pen and notebook was setin my hands.I spe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229215/ I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrowas the skies turn from day to nightcarrying me away in the woeful wind.Though I do know if you’re standingnext to me that’s where I’ll be forwherever you are is just whereI want to be. If I never tell you how I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229214/ All day and all nightAll little brother does is play withAll little fingers pressingAll little buttons onAll little controllers playingAll little video gamesAll little fingers can grabAll day and all night. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229213/ Walking down the gray roads past the decaying buildingswhere I spent so many hours as a little giggling girl,a person from the past came walking in my direction.The moment we passed, breathing in each other’s air,our eyes locked for an instance as the world spiraledback in time; .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229212/ Her fingers run up and down the keystapping each ivory and onyx bar to findthe notes that perfectly match together. To play the song that’d match the beatof her heart she strums her fingersagainst the strings of a smooth neck. Her pen scribbles ferociously dictati.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/aica092/229210/