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Young Writers Society


Light's Unpublished Poetry Writing



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472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Fri Dec 02, 2016 4:40 am
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Lightsong says...



Consistency

Christmas boasts its effectiveness
to boost Christians' spirits, and not
fictional Santa Claus.

I sit here, in a place far from Christmas
and farther from Winter. It's not gifts that I seek,
not carols either, but the foreign atmosphere.

Winter, when will you visit me? Wash away this consistent
hot weather. Hide this tarred road with your snow (let me
play with it), because only God knows how I wish
for a month-long companion, even in the form
of snowballs and butterfly-shaped floor.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





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472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Sat Dec 03, 2016 1:40 am
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Lightsong says...



Gifts

I don't mind being given gifts
if they can substitute the ones I should receive
for my birthdays. Twenty years of labor deserves
some overdue love.

Or if you cannot give them, then set the wicked weather
from a tyrant to sorrow weaver.
Let the cool air filter the light
and the snow freezes energy's fight.
Shelter me in the house, if you want,
and give me hot chocolate, and not just one.

I will be happy, then, in a cocoon of laziness
then in a road of busyness.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Sun Dec 04, 2016 4:07 am
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Lightsong says...



Holy Text

It is a book from the past,
written by the fallens, but not
created by them. Indeed, it is
the sum of words firmly memorized
and some believe, those words
are from God. Thus, the term Holy Text.

Keep it in the shelf if its use creates chaos.

If you think war between colours are terrifying,
think about war between faiths. The followers
who are willing to die. Divided by a Cross
and a pair of Star and Moon, their eyes see nothing
but enemies holding axes, enemies having
serpent tongues. Neighbors become a term
long-lost forgotten, and humanity is
discarded for the protection of the
Absolute Truth.

Instead, use the Holy Text when your weapons
are kindness and honesty and willingness
to except every heart is painted in
different shades of colours. Expect and embrace
the chance for some to be unable to shed
their skin for the one you offer.
Understand that believing should start
from the heart, not the mind.

Understand that when a book is laid open
half of the words will always be on the left page
while the rest will always be on the right page.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Mon Dec 05, 2016 5:47 am
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Lightsong says...



Sir Light

Once upon a time there is a light so brilliant
that it takes sentience. He wears the gentleman hat,
the best that he can get, and asks people to call him
by his name, or Sir or Sir Light,
since, well, he is bright.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Tue Dec 06, 2016 8:31 am
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Lightsong says...



Smile of the Past

His head aches. The image overwhelms.
The corner of one's mouth turned upward,
a smirk, the hammering of an otherwise
consistent personality.

But why?

The memory comes back in a rush of confusion.
Cars claim the road like people claiming their incomes.
One of them had collided with his mind.

He looks at the mirror, then, and frowns
at the stranger. Who is he? And why
is there someone behind him?

The smile intrudes again.
In his dream, in the back mirror.
It comes with a whisper -

Remember. When we sailed
through the disastrous sea,
when the wind held hatred
against us. Remember. When we
sunk to the bottom, undiscovered.


He closes his eyes hard
and tears (shards of the heart)
fall down.

He cannot.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Thu Dec 08, 2016 12:03 pm
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Lightsong says...



Awareness

It is a scary experience
to feel that others
have their eyes on us.

Freedom means being able
to move around, but is it truly freedom
if we feel eyes are evaluating
our steps?

Is this paranoia?
Is this watchful atmosphere
our delusion?
What if
everyone cares their own business?

Awareness is like a camera
we hide inside our shell.
Sometimes it works, and sometimes
the lens break.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Thu Dec 08, 2016 12:11 pm
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Lightsong says...



Selective

Friends diminish
as I grow up.
Some fly like butterflies
looking for a better place
with flowers.
Some wilt
in my eyes, and I
break our ties
before I wilt too.

My language
evolves.
Not everyone
can understand.
It is a blend of dolphin's
and monkey's
and rat's.

I do not
want to build my hope
as tall
as a mountain,
so I select
to make sure
those selected
build and maintain
the mountain.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Fri Dec 09, 2016 7:25 am
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Lightsong says...



Values

Circled kindness, underlined cooperation,
highlighted bravery.
Gave the paper to teacher for evaluation.
100% meant I found all
the values described in the story.

Parents taught me about them.
Smile in front of customers,
shake hands with the elderly, and never
express anger.
Be the perfect puppet
submitting to the strings that bound me.

Books said values could not help me
all the time. Some times
cruelty was necessary to avoid
exploitation. Working alone was better
if you could paint a more beautiful picture.
Cowardness was born
when there was a situation of
one could not live while the other
survived.


Values were clothes to hide
unpleasant flaws. Dagger inside your stocking
for your enemies.
Bruised back behind your shirt when
your hands trembled, useless to stop them.

Values were steps towards Heaven,
alternative for a pair of angel’s wings.
The path to betterment
was scattered with thorns and death traps
and the path to a final end
flourished with burning black roses.
Held the value tight as they were
floating lights that guided you to the right path.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Sat Dec 10, 2016 11:59 am
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Lightsong says...



Nomadic

The moon on the sky
is hidden from mortal eyes.

I knock the steering wheel
to match the rhythm of a punk rock song
that echoes throughout the car
like the thunders in my heart.
Profanities in the lyric
are best friends to my tongue.

And when I stop, it is a new place.
The road is made of tar, not wet sand,
and the sky is made smaller
by the lining skyscrapers.

The sun makes his presence known
while his secret takes refuge behind his radiance.

I wear my gentleman hat
and wipe the mascara around my eyes.
I throw the cigarette away
and spray deodorant into my mouth.
People love sweet lies
and I love sweet poisons.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Sun Dec 11, 2016 4:56 am
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Lightsong says...



Brain and Heart

You will never admit it,
but you always boast
your brain is bigger than the rest.

I want you to chop your head,
crush your skull, and see
a pair of hands
can crush your brain.

It is as fragile
as sparkling glass
and its size has no relevance
to the spheres of wisdom
you have in store.

If you want to boast,
do it for others.
Make charities with one hand
without the other knowing it.

Let satisfaction spills
from your heart
because, love,
cleverness attracts envy
while kindness
attracts people.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Mon Dec 12, 2016 8:51 am
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Lightsong says...



Erased Memories

I was in a room so white
it seemed to glow.
A juxtaposition to my mind,
smeared with dark colours
in the middle of black oblivion.

They were my memories
that blinded my eyes,
preventing me from knowing
the brown metal outside
was once gray years ago.

The past energized me
like an inhaled breath, but
the air was too sepia now
and my trachea was constricted.
I realized my past
was cigarette smoke.

I needed this room to start over.

It would purify my mind
by blinding my eyes.
The light hurt them, and
my brain screamed
closeyoureyes, closeyoureyes!
but my hands turned to fists
and the tears dismissed
as mere liquid.

I exited the room smiling.
My mind was now a clean canvas.
The first thing to do was to give myself
a new name.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Thu Dec 15, 2016 12:53 am
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Lightsong says...



Fear

Imagination manifested it
when I was riding a motorcyle -
what would happen - if I was hit
when I swerved - to avoid - the meandering turtle?

It flourished from expectation
when I delivered the bitter truth -
and it brought - his anger - sentience
in the form - of a - striking move.

It bred in the lair of secrets
when they woke and wanted to escape -
they attracted torches of fire,
breaking the normalcy for the end a merry pattern.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Sun Dec 18, 2016 12:53 pm
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Lightsong says...



Frozen Tears

Snowflakes are my frozen tears
that fall from the sky when December comes here.
I are nearing the end of the year
but why I feel everyday is Winter?

Perhaps it is because I have rejected Summer
and all the flowers that bloomed around Her.
Her gift, warmth, tickled my skin like a fur
and yet to humans I rewarded fire.

And their steps went further and lower
away from me, the cursed stranger
who did not know how to appear weaker
in front of the Elders and was labeled a danger.

Winter came when the flame in me dissappeared
due to the profanities I had thrown to Summer.
She freezed my fallen tears and gave me an ice spear.
'Rise like warrior,' She whispered to my ear.

And so I had left my home town that was no more
to serve Winter who had given me the door
to strength.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Fri Dec 23, 2016 9:11 am
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Lightsong says...



Sesungguhnya, budaya mengikat kita seperti tali mengikat sebuah bot yang akan mabuk di tengah-tengah lautan jika dibiarkan bersendirian. Budaya mengingatkan kita tempat kita berpijak, mengingatkan kita agar tunduk kepada kuasa alam. Janganlah kita lupa akannya saat bangunan-bangunan pencakar langit membayangi tanah bumi yang kasar.

Indeed, culture ties us like a rope tying a boat that will drown in the middle of the sea if let alone. It reminds us the place we stand, reminds us to bow over the power of nature. Forget it not in the moment when skyscrapers overshadow the rough earth sand.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  





User avatar
472 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 25
Reviews: 472
Thu Mar 09, 2017 5:45 am
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Lightsong says...



What You were to Me

You were someone kids my age
could call Aunt.
You owned a shop across the street.
Always, the air you blended with your microphone voice
and the silence you shattered with the pitch of your laughter.

I called you Aunt as a surrender to society
but you were never that to me.

You could say I spent my time a lot with you
but you couldn’t be sure it was because of you.
The reason I sat on your high chair at the counter
was to wait for the paper to roll out
of the mobile card machine.

Other times, I just wanted to watch the television
placed behind you at the top of the wall.
The background was more interesting than you.

I am not sorry for leading you to think
I was pouring warm feelings at you,
Stepmother.
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

- David L. Ulin
  








The continuation of our world depends more on the survival of the kindest than it does on the survival of the fittest.
— Arcticus