#wordofthemonthcontest

[allanegory]

Word of the month? I'm too lazy -- well, to busy is more accurate -- to find out if I'm just supposed to submit a word, or if there's more to it than that, but what a cool idea! Personally, I love lots of words -- I'm an English teacher. And when I saw that on your page, the first word that sprang to mind was "mellifluous". Now, isn't that a gorgeous word? :)

Thanks for your interest, but I have discontinued that endeavour for the time being. It was a challenging writing contest in which you had to use a certain word that another contestant suggested and spawned a lot of poetry: https://www.tumblr.com/search/wordofthemonthcontest

[peculiarrian]

Your story is already painted on your skin so you don't need to have any stranger to color the parts of your body which shades have faded through seasons. You belong to the renaissance era for you adapt to whatever transitions you are in. You are a chameleon. And what's good in you is that you can still see the beauty on a sinister place. The contour and your exterior is a form of expressionism and your face that's worth a thousand sailing ships depicts impressionism. You are already a masterpiece emulated from your forefathers. You are a pastiche and you are already beautiful with all of these hues and colors splattered on your body. Your story is already painted on your skin. Don't let anyone repaint you.

Pastiche, abr

[lzlabs]

Tasting Poetry

A poet writes ballads life in verse words and epic tales planting pictures tasting moods… while aching from the heart ©Lzlabs82014

[lzlabs]

Listen to your Heart

My heart wants what my mind is willing to forget, the wills battle leaving my mind at ease with a heart aching for you ©Lzlabs82014

[lzlabs]

Body Language

My back arches, aching speak to me in rhythm roll me off your tongue, we’re alive with love we’re pure poetry…

[lzlabs]

Pain has a Purpose

Discomfort follows the bruise minor discoloration tender to the touch It’s the aching the raw, disquieted throbbing lingering in my soul that will never heal I will always miss you…

[gmckim]

syncopation

in her apt piano their faces swoon

in her brain-lamp there's a syncopation of crows

their black light wears a shout their scratch black vinyl their coal train of sixteenth notes      

[thatrandompoet]

Pretending

Pretty little words Recite them Every Time. Excuses to let No one know, Deep down you're drowning In every lie. No one asks. Give another smile.

loqui