Discover Top Posts Tagged with #iggywrites

Word Drabble

Random Word Generated: Lantern

Muse Selected: Doflamingo

The Family knew to leave Doflamingo alone. He was still fuming over the loss of the Ope Ope no Mi. Buffalo and Baby 5 didn’t even have to pester their elders; they knew. Dellinger toddled to and fro but never called the young master’s name; he knew. Jora glanced nervously between him and Gladius, whose coffee began to chill from his inability to touch it; they knew. Diamante and Trebol were discussing quietly between themselves, never loud enough to stir Doflamingo even though they were seated outside. Even Pica remained silent, wondering if the pitch of his voice could carry to the window of the room the master was in; they knew, too.

They knew because when Doffy left the lantern off, someone was bound to be killed if they walked into the room.

Plenty of children had already made the same mistake.

#donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #one piece doflamingo #one piece #one piece drabble #word drabble #iggywrites

runaway brain dance poem and how to sleep with spring fever

#iggywrites #poetry #original poetry #contemporary poetry

Veteran, 18, sails out of the Dee estuary.

In September, a veteran plotted a course for the sea –

Carved a groove in the surf with her hand and refused to look back –

She had much that she feared and a life that she wanted to flee,

And her sister had given her blessing to halt the attack.

Her candles she lit as the sun melted into the Dee,

And around her the salt-water flickered to yellow from black.

In the distance, the glimmer of other ex-soldiers at sea,

But the veteran curled up to sleep ‘round an old haversack.

The next morning would see that young veteran down on one knee,

And the evening would watch her set fire to her teeth, to their plaque.

She would whistle the oboe of Mozart’s concerto in C

And pretend that the waves whispered cello to lessen her lack.

When the sun rose, the veteran warmed up her skin and was free

And was glad that this time, when she left, she had had room to pack.

Then she drew, from her haversack, grapes and pink biscuits and brie,

And she learned how to captain herself; she is finding the knack.

How impossible ending a poem without finding hope.

How like me to, half conscious, scrub down my conclusions with soap.

I am tired.

I am afraid.

I am glad to be alive.

There, I have been honest, I think.

#contemporary poetry #iggywrites #sonnet #this is the first time I’ve shared a poem here and I am. scared!#original poetry

Today I wore my green socks with holes in them. The bus came just when I got to the bus stop. I realised something I had to do was actually quite easy. I sliced banana on my toast and ate it standing up. Today flowers said hi and my friends said hi and I said “oh hello!” I sat on the top floor of the library and the whole city waved through the window. I walked about and looked at things from different angles and the whole time I was wearing my green socks with holes in and no one else knew.

But I knew and I made myself happy and I scrunched up my feet in my shoes.

#iggytalks #iggywrites #good day :)

okay do you ever get so overwhelmed by how beautiful everything is though? Like im sorry. but right now I can see for a mile across the city from the top floor of the library and every single person out there is a story. and this morning I woke up and I had dreamt that I woke up so now I am technically living my dream. a girl on the bus smiled at me and I smiled back and so we shocked each other by being real. my handwriting is wiry and free like the oak outside the window and now he is my brother while we both are here waiting for spring. my little sisters are waking up far away by the sea, and I am watching over my new city overwhelmed by how beautiful everything is.

#iggytalks #iggywrites

Tangible

Going to fly to the moon’s face today.

Well, tomorrow.

Going to bring you some silver Moon Clay.

If the moon will still be there at dawn.

Look at her smiling, the Lov-e-lie sun.

The moon starts her pacing - she’ll dance for no one.

Figured I’d write you a poem tonight.

This morning.

This afternoon.

Remind me again, Love, we’re tangible, right?