http://slow.writerscafe.org/adigandhi0526 The original writings of author stargirl23 en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776011651 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 up, down, up, downup and down they goon the seesaw of ideals,the seesaw of beliefup, down, up, downa tail hangs by one’s feetwhile the other has a trunkthat clings tight to its sideup, down, up, downonly one can be on topup, down, up, downa sandbox lays be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1816604/ raise your glass in all your ruddinessthis is our songour cherry wine anthemthe one that would play each soiréeunderneath the bar on 31stwhere the rats fled using the hole under the rugwhere we exchanged oxygen for smoke, friendship for love, and parents for funa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1816603/ what good are dreams to a boy like memy closed eyes see nothing all the nightsave dancing spots and black outlinesand when I open them, I see the drunken manhe staggers by outside my windowevery night at 4 AMI see my mother through my door framea candle illuminating her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1807753/ I could come back every yearI could, I couldI scream for ice cream every yearbut each year my throat gets sorerand the ice cream seems to not have movedfrom the truck that stopped its workit drips into the pastit melts out of my futurebut it stickssticks as I sit in t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1807751/ I don't know what to call herservant, maid, or slaveI just know that the Nintendo screen lightens her skinas if it removed the dirtI just know that now her smile is genuinenot respectful or politeeven as she is crammed in the back of our carlike an afterthoughteven as s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1806547/ you were beautifulfrom the golden entrance of light through wispy fogyou shoneI had chosen you to be the onethrough the harsh hours of a relentlessly bright skyyou endured with meyou were my "natural high"they had told me to find a "natural high"'til the colors faded .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1806546/ I have learned thatthere are so many things to dobut there is so little timeI guess I just won’t sleep http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801231/ we painted a painting, you and Iand since painting is artmy feelings grewI did the most for I was too gentleand not able to tell you to do moreyour brazenness still helped meand you showed me what water wasby painting waves, froth, and stillnessand what you painted of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801230/ weekdays are sadI spend them at workand when I’m homeI’m home aloneweekdays are sadthey mean winenot vodka or beerthey mean self-loveinstead of fast loveand I’m home aloneweekdays are sadI have no timeto do what I loveor be happyor sleepw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801229/ I think I love youafter all, my thoughts have endured several yearsso have the memories:you across the room; shared looks; brushed arms; … http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801226/ at the barbecue,kids want to play American pop songswhile the elders opt for traditional Hindi musicbut how can these styles be seamlessly mixedwhen guitars clash with sitars? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801225/ it's a hell full of angelsand they're always told what to domost importantly: "love this"so they love and obeyso they are not outcast http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1801223/ your songs and mine are not the samemy song is the crashing of the wavescrisp, clear, flowingyour song is that of the rocksas they are sucked back into the waterdesperate, muffled, wailingyour songs and mine do not mix http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800457/ my lids are closedbut behind themmy eyes are tired and awake http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800455/ “The eyes are the window to the soul”�"but I never saw your eyes,in shadows along with half of your face as they wereit is your plush lips�"such tangible beauty�"that I sawthey kissed my thoughts, rendered me crazed,and have s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800453/ I love you, my mind whisperedto each passerby, all of whom were mute.I love you, my mind shouted.I suppose they were deaf, too.I fled to nature, and fell in love there.(My Echoes followed, oh my Echoes,I realize now that I was mute and deaf to them.)I prostrated myself .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800451/ emotions, words piled up and searched for an outletI could take my diatribes to Twitterunfortunately I am afraidof the counter-attacksand their thoughtsso I suppose thatPages mustsufficeno sharing, no viewing, no solving; my anger stays http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800450/ the red flower that danced in you and rested with you,the corsage for your eternal prom,danced in my longing eyes straight into my mindit dances on my hand and in me as I dance in hasteaway from youyou don’t realize your luck of being savedfrom having to complete .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1800449/ mom you need to learn to love yourselfit's driving me crazydo it for meI've been hearing of your suffering thirty minutes awayyou take your lessons from Godwell he built the universe around himselfso build yours toomake it you-centricothers can be there too--I know .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1790775/ I lay in between blades of grasspeering at a distant white rockit stood so high and so pureand it lay amongst a field of white rocksand behold�"from what was so high it must have been Heaven�"a filthy, fertile foot came downand it covered and conve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1782782/ I looked at you and was blindedby the dazzling reflection of your porcelain skinI gazed all day, I was Echo, you NarcissusI searched and memorized, began to notice cracks in the glazed reflections of your porcelain skinI began to search for the epitome of you, something perfect.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1782762/ it is the blackness around her eyeslying under layers of whiteit is the silence when she criesbroken by herself, no one elseit is the pills that offer to kill the painreplaced by laughter at the right timeit is the climactic pain shared with himaudibly made to be pleasa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1782760/ he’s already trapped in a vicious cyclefor his plentiful sins he is not liableinhale, exhale, take deep breathsonly milestone left is deathhe needs fuel to exacerbate his lifeso his days are passed in this search for strifepeople say that on society’s face he is a wartunifo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1768620/ what I need to realizeis my insignificancethere is no oneplanning this out for methere is no pointin worrying about thisthere is no motivefor what others doeach human createsa self-centric universethey constantly collideconsistent crossfirethere is no order http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760323/ the unjust courtwe call societyturns out anxietysupernatural idealsour life becomes a scheduleimitatingour goal is becomingwell-rounded prodigious sculptures http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760321/ I’ve dwelled for too longon this one past memoryit gains significance each timeI’ve made it a hyperbolea crumb from rotten fruit cakethat at first appealed to meinundated in salivait’s been changing slowlysoggy, decayed, drained of flavoryet until .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760309/ twisted, snaking veinsprosper during the summerhelped by golden love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760308/ acidic smells and scattered pillscracked skin and brown stainsshared dwelling and blank billspeaking flesh and ornamental vainshis only company was inside those wallsjeering, yelling, teething, snarling, foaming, growlingas he patrolled gridded hallsonce-white eyes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760305/ in walking along a lonely pathI followed everyone to avoid wratha conveyor belt it transformed intodreadful attacks following specific cueslooking back, I witnessed firstinfants branded to avoid being cursedbrought up with rituals and beliefstempted by Easter eggs and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760304/ when I criedit wasn't for youor being bornbut everything in betweendragging too many textbooksfear of getting looksignoring invites sentlost and distant friendsnot doing enoughbeing less than toughTime's Olympic-record paceloving too many a facesnoozing overti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1760302/ to behold the light display when two comets collide is a beloved sight for a remote audience, butthose close to them are hurt�"for no fault save their ownthey do not know it is better to leave them alonethe comets follow their streaking tails and starlight gu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1750314/ Iyour hands two feet to the left of minecreated in me some aura divineinsurgent warnings always camemy mind clung to you all the sameyour face was in the skyand when I closed my eyesthen I realized, thinking of your friendsthat our fantastic love would be destined to end.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1750312/ when I shower, I reflect on youso that's what the water turns intoa sporadic cone around mewarm, soothing, hard to break freedrops slide down me 'till I am cleansedthrough you and of you, my loving friendmy heart wails out melodies 'till you make me cougha spluttering j.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1750311/ wet eyes and trembling lipslead to the opening of a laptopin the hot-headed mannerthat is typical of youthinstead of fighting backit is time to ignoresorrows taken care ofby capricious charactersand tinny, staged laughterand unattainable happy endings http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1750307/ stars’ passion is what makes them ignitecasting a luminescent glow unto our livesand although some think of themsimply as external flares with gaseous insidesthey do no harm, save put strain on our necks--for we seem to love to look up--so when they collapse in a last.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1750306/ what they don’t describe everare humanity’s wiresfor inside each man, woman, and childlie tens of thousands of outletsand right at birth, the men in suits setall the wires into “love” http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1739778/ if you ever texted me,my phone screen and I would glowand the best I’ve ever felt yetwas that time when you’d like my retweetsbut it’s a period in my history nowand knowing why is all I want"but you won’t talkall I have to know you byare the posts on you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1739775/ the only thing she loved more than looking wasthe feel of supple skinthe feel of exploring its inexperienceinside and outfree from heaviness, texture, and painit was a noveltythe subjects were not willing, but are they everwhen a scientist is mad? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1733918/ rays of light embolden your smile-linesa pale-palette sky darkens your mouthrain from above slides under your eyeslightning reflects in the black clouds of your pupilsgolden light turns you into a different colora hurricane spins us ’roundan earthquake causes us to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1733676/ Your presence caused my blood to boil,and using that energy, we fueled a fire,that inevitably simmered down to coals. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1733674/ palms stinging, throbbing, achingfrom hitting, banging, poundingon a cold wall that eases the paina desperate, hopeless, pathetic crybut the door remains unopenedand I remain alone http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1732652/ maybe if your eyes and mine are acquainted today,then maybe, just maybe, they'll soon have something to saymaybe if my words  would find shelter in your ears,then maybe, just maybe, your lips will look up at the Lord in fearmaybe if the hair on your arms longed for minethe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1732651/ stacks of books bigger than you,here’s your educationlearn it by heart, don’t lose your heart,that’s some motivationbalance it all, you’ll forget it all,after the presentationdo what you love, and this too,for college is inspirationseemingly ma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1732273/ In the gloom, you came,making me cast a shadow,and we called it love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1731422/ love is but a child’s dreamand that is all it’s meant to bebut still we’ll sit intimatelyyou, me, and our childhood dream http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1731421/ a fresh coat of paintthe life of a saintscarlet, bulging pimplesthe pain of purple nurplesthe laugh of an infantsearing sweet minttears sticking to a faceexhaustion after a racelessons memorized for schoolhow sunlight reflects off a jewelsleepless nightsgrudges he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1730493/ The trees get scared when the moon goes away,for that is when the demons come out.Fearing those dead-trees-become-weapons, theyshed their leaves, and pray for a drought.These demons are different, they hunt the good,and those good become shelters and oh so much more.Wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1730134/ A commotion outside caused Squirrel to wake.“What is this brouhaha?” said he. “Have you no concern for my sake?”Eyes darting around, his anger was extinguished, for he saw Raccoon,whose hair now resembled wisps of smoke curling up to the moon.“Wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1730132/ Black Dog, tennis ball in his mouth, sniffing the grass. White Dog, she was smaller, sniffing the grass. Black Dog, he took a break and noticed White Dog�" Sprinted across the street, he just wanted to play. White Dog sprinted too, but away from Black Dog. Bla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1729788/ on the radio today, they played an old songit wasn’t good�"but I sang alongthe year I first heard it was when I would golay in mulch, sand, dirt, or snowour photograph, taken under a twisting treeright after that argument you left methe smile drawn on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/adigandhi0526/1729324/