“angels, loving them, and the irreparable soul”

“Angels, loving them, and the irreparable soul”

She’s an angel with invisible wings.
I am ready and wanting to be her everything,
but I would settle for being something.

The beauty in her eyes only eclipsed by the
energy of her soul. I try to forget her, even
if it is just for a few hours at a time.

How do you forget something so beautiful
that it saved your life just by its presence. That
is a lie, I do not want to forget her for second.

I have come to the realization that I know nothing,
and need nothing, but I want plenty. It is one thing
really, to have the chance to be something.

shawn king

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Throwback Thursday: Writing Knights Grand Tournament III

Last year Writing Knights’ Grand Tournament was absolutely filled with epicness. The road was long, with twenty-some poets competing for the one shot at a full-length book deal with Writing Knights Press. The winding road lead to the basement of Mac’s Backs Books in Coventry, where the finalists performed their submissions for an audience and a panel of judges. Alexis-Rueal, D.L. Woure, J.M. Romig, Julie Marchand, Nkechi Edeh, and Serena Castells brought the fire with emotionally driven poetry that was raw and cutting.

Join us as we take a look back at the event and relive these powerful poems. Congrats again to the winner (spoiler alert). They really killed it up there.

Thanks to Writing Knights for putting on this event. It was a pleasure to be a part of it.

Shadow Dancer is Sometimes Called Mademoiselle Marionette

You gotta love Tracie Morell’s poetry.

disdainfulbeauty

What do these gestures mean?  It’s a loving hand

which manipulates these strings which signify

the puppet’s gestures.  If they are meaningless

displeasures,

the thought of a heart displaying what pumps

it being burdensome is too

much to bear, but if the actions were untimely

it was pure accident.  You see, I have no clue

what goes on outside my own skin, I can only imagine

 

how light illuminates different meaning in the intention

of movement, says Mademoiselle.  Can the divinity of love be

turned off when the Marionette is clearly tugged in gestures

trying to resemble the coursing of blood,

the expression of thought, but love is

illusion sometimes.  Puppets can be

put out of the mind so easily.  The unseen Puppetmaster can’t see

what the movements look like, Mademoiselle Marionette is

operated by the intuitive  pull of strings: the lines guiding

emotively.  To think that gestures of…

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