Young Writers Society

yeah, yeah, i know. The nail marks never started at the top - no, we were always halfway when we realized we were falling down, down with nothing to leave ...

Let me try to understand There’s this feeling in my hand It is a blade sinking deeper in my skin? Did I rip, with my right hand? And watch this ...

On Spiritos - A Poetic Freewrite: 31 July, 2006 A none too lucid rambling of my subconscious, from a long, long time ago. NRJ-TSR. Enjoy! . . . I’ve found ...

Tossing and turning throughout the night I listen to the nearby train Who cries out in the lonely night For company, The hum of the TV, Trying my best to ...

caught in the undertow of a thought carried away on the broken back of an undisciplined rhythm passing through subatomic slipstreams and defective dream catchers laughing waves of an alien ...

Calligraphy is accomplishment burned and etched into lambskin paper lining ancient walls, modern minds. Axis titled, the earth is crooked, like melting clocks and bacon, but we are the ones ...

I found this in my photobucket... and I have no idea... where it's from, but surely I must have written it... if I didn't then I have no idea where ...

Don't shout at me, I'm only here for a few minutes! Have fun; here's my contribution for the day/week/until I'm back. Loads of good stuff going on around here. GAMBLING ...

Shiver cause its cold outside, Inside there’s a warmer future. Fear cause plenty isn’t known, Trust is the new way to meet. Measure distances, Calculate force. Distinguish evil, and gather ...

Photographed walls, scented with Joy’s perfume. Pleasures which lead to another, Moments captured and embraced. All of a sudden, no warning at all. A black light crawls among the pleasant. ...

Take a step forward, look inside. Be surprised of what you’ll find. Keep on walking, explore my youth. My thoughts and feelings, revealing the truth. My feelings travel, they travel ...

Three little pixies (A big poem for little minds) Three little pixies Trot, trot, trot Away from home Adventures they sought. They passed five valleys, And blue rivers four, Where ...

Invisible, I disappear into my mental gloom. Unseen, I creep into the sweet haven of my room. I feel as though I soon shall fade from memory and from thought. ...

I beseech you child of our time Who wanders in the everlasting light And holds the hand of god In his own sweet palm You who can take the demons ...

Apple grinds are not filtered out; they cling to the capillary walls inside you, speaking selfless confidence in your ears during your wasteland-nights. It slides off your skin into a ...