http://slow.writerscafe.org/blissey The original writings of author Danielle Browne en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776033797 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The criteria for this poem was to create a history for a stone - the history being my own. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1941787/ In these four walls, I sit cross leggedwaiting for your hungry hands to meet my lipspull away at my exterior and tell me storiesof your journeys on Mars and outward.You are mine and I am yours,you know.Whether my existence issolely based on your’sis none of your business.Because without you,I&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1907835/ There is something that each line has in common. Comment if you understand what it is :-) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1907819/ I wish you had the love for lifelike you do for meand the ashy passion you dofor cigarettes.Like a smoking gun, you arehot to the touchbut as fragile as a dandelion stalk.I wish you loved the ground likeyou do the skybecause baby, down herethere is so much to see.Your honeycomb hair is velvetylike t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1906871/ The Golden Man sat everyday at Golden Bay with his slice of cakefrom Aunt’s bakery in one hand and his toothpick in the other.Golden Man smoked while he ate and always chuckled with icing onhis bruised lip. And everyday he rode his blue folding bike to only God knows where.“Have you seen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1906855/ Today I saw Jimmy. It was golden hour and birds were frantic, as I marched my two left feet to the gas station. My pace came to an unexpected halt when I saw Jimmy, all swollen and sad. When I said hey, he said the same, and he told me about his dad. I didn’t know, I was out of touch. I wish J.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1906853/ You can tell if a girl is happy                           by her eyes.If her eyes feel like miniature domes of glitter and reassurance,   if they mouth a song that you so easily recognize,      if they shi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1906793/ It is utterly terrifyingliving on a globe like this one,with its coffee-like soil that holds so many secretsOr the polluted words we speak and let float away from our mouthsand into the oxygen.When we die, our skin turns into a suitand our blood to wine.Even with iron lungs like they all so proclaim.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1897146/ On a typical crisp evening as everything winds down, I knew by the humming car motor and the crying dogs that she was home. Although, where we live doesn't feel like home to me, although it feels like a temporary place to call home, wherever she is feels warm and safe, like a home. There is a certai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blissey/1619349/