http://slow.writerscafe.org/madelinepomar The original writings of author Madeline en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776087542 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 What is this illness I see? This misdemeanor so often committed,Of touching not feeling.Moments once felt with passion, with aweNow barely touched with the snap of a camera, or tap of a keyboard.The quiet, still reverence beheld of wonderMay be glanced at for secondsBefore you must tend to the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1433671/ It's not you,I promise.Blame it on these wings I have grown. Almost full length, Magnificent but melancholy. This nest I love seems crowded now. It's not your fault, I just take up more space than before. I will find the way,Navigate this convoluted path. Becau.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1429392/ Once again, I stumble to and froEven thoughI only had one.I'm such a fool, not Cool enough to raid yourLiquor cabinet for the buzz,Cuz I head straight for your Cookie jar instead. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1426989/ I love you. See how the sunflower leans To the sun that emanates warmth, Nurturing rays. Your love is unfathomable,I cannot wholly emulate. Your hands are rough and strongFrom the home you have built.Your feet sunburned, toasted reddish brown beautifulWith the glimmer of gol.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1426872/ Falling in love is sweet,Cherry blossoms and tied-bow neat. Zealous hands that meet with purpose...To complete the round of applauseFor these two lovers, the charitable cause.But falling in infatuation is tart, Tangy passion with electric heart.The good, the bad,I'll have it allFor the lin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1424949/ America runs on the idea of individualism, freedom for its citizens. However, what does this mean for a culture? Individualism, as seen in any student government textbook, sets forth the idea that what is best for the individual will ultimately be best for the whole. Our founding fathers wrote the C.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1423981/ What cynicism I holdFor my true loves,My only eligibles. What seed was planted So fervently within meThat I only view them  Through scornful lens?I pray, Take this contempt from meLike an everlasting bruise, At the convenience of Any passerby's clumsy or intentional bum.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1423786/ In the very wake of prominence, of opportunity, Life seems to do nothing--But to daunt. Unconscious joys would flood, rainwater on an already satiated field. Now time pleads for rain, but none is given. It seems life offers little perception, Little guidance I used to r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1422041/ My stomach is churning,the Butterflies have formed a rebellion. Invited, I drive to his house, Although I hold no interest in his proposal ofromance, Nor the mere company he promises will Kindle that of which he desires in me. My only incentive hidden in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1422038/ The alarm's crude yelldisrupts my escape from reality.I've been cheated, betrayed by time's Fast climb to consciousness.No light peeks from window cracksTo help me along. House dead, silence tempting.The atmosphere outside so uninviting, So solitary.Pillows and mattr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1422036/ Tonight, the day refusesto give me to the dark. I lay awake, fully conscious. But can sense the loosening grip of Day on my arm. Please, hand me over already!Have I not fulfilled my day's obligations?Have I not heard everything the day needed tosay?Well then, I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1422035/ I inhale and exhale, Each surge of airRefreshing and seductive.My eyes are closed, how I like it.Where am I? Only others can really tell, But don't spoil it, please. I am in a forest, in the arms of the night.I sit on cool dirt, its earthy musk mesmerizing,Filling my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1422034/ Humming pain -- the thoughtless one.Devoid of any hiatus that will lend relief, To its victim that quietly suffers from itsPerseverance. Waves brought upon the shore retreat in lengths, That give it a blissful look at the sun. Yet I experience no look, For my sight is blinde.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/madelinepomar/1421662/