There's a raw seething rage Eating her way out of my chest She claws into my lungs And batters against my ribcage Every time a hand grazes my thigh.

There's a onioned deep-rooted terror Surging up through my veins She clamors for purpose To be heard, to warn me: You’ve got to move

But she, protectress Who learned from all past frights Speaks by sinking her teeth into my bones Burning red as a fist-fight Until I shrink and I shy and I suffocate On the tiled floor of the bathtub

Until begging for silence I scramble to turn on the water My shirt clings to my skin Like the seaweed that stuck to my legs Last summer when the leash Tangled hands and pulled taught under one tide And tore the limb and board and body under Brackish water until beaten down into the sand I preferred to be bludgeoned water-logged fish food Than surface and face his fists In my dreams

- indy, post traumatic stress

"Hello Poetry" by Alexandro Botelho

"Writing this one on the spot no judgement for the words that come up hip..hop...flip... lol just playing what words will be spoken today? which ones wave hello and smile excitedly? You, over there! The word on the tip of my tongue traveled at the speed of light from my mind's eye Aha! I see you leap into the air fluttering your syllables and floating landing on a friendly ear. Or maybe unfriendly. Like a potion or a poison It's not my concoction I'm reading it just like you sitting and thinking "oh that's nice" "I don't get it" "haha lol rofl" Did I do it? Did I make a poem? I don't know, I planted all these word seeds maybe they'll grow into poetrees. Did I do it? I don't know, but here it is!"

Another amazing show last night on Writings on the Wall. Thank you to all of the writers who shared your talents and your voices =)

If you enjoy poetry and creative writing, check out the link below to see the show and discover many original writings and the people behind them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHexbS6hS1U

I updated my author interview on my website https://brittanyearnestauthor.wordpress.com/author-interview/

"Science Fiction" by Alexandro Botelho

"Saving scientific fiction made into their realities Bookmarking the thumbnail of their virtual worlds This space where they are free to imagine they are not slaves Bright lights and music draw them in with the promise of a better life Only needing to leave their old, dreary, and worn one behind Come to this land where the possibilities are endless Where no walls, or chains, or laws, are needed to imprison them Just the belief that this is better than what they had All spaces monetized and commercialized The slavery of endless labor Countless virtual hours seeking a release from real problems Virtual oligarchs cropping up, extensions of dollar billionaires Virtual working class, fooled again into thinking they are not working, that their time has no value Internet cellular slaves Physical bodies becoming husks to house a neural network Mental energy fueling the virtual economy Once enslaved in body only, now their minds fasten their own chains Sleep a thing of the past Every hour, every second spent gathering bits of information Collecting franticly, insanely hoarding away nothing Only the hope of a release, that sudden dopamine rush Lasting never long enough to ever be called happiness Perhaps one day they will upload their consciousness To the system and permanently leave the body behind. A photon of light Navigating the conductive currents and nano chips Like tiny streets and cities. All their life’s paths and moments Planned out completely, Continuously prodded to maintain the physical systems Of the rich and powerful, Who lounge in their very real palaces and Dance across the Earth. No longer enslaved To employing or feeding a mass of human bodies They are free to live in the Garden of Eden As billions of humans race, unseen, unheard, As tiny blips in the amalgamated mass consciousness Of a fully automated service industry. All energy recycled Giving them just enough to continue their false beliefs, Their science fiction."

"Heart of Oak" by Peter Dome Poetrydome worldwide - https://www.facebook.com/groups/885869628090321/ Peter Dome Poet - https://www.facebook.com/Peter-Dome-Poet-112091340427571/

"Deep in the sprawling evergreen Of leafy Nottinghamshire Among the boughs of Sherwood forest's Mighty oak and shady lofty trees Where the majestic deer father in the glen Where many a tale of folk law A bard Has told You will always find a piece of me As the water flows on the river Trent Weaving it's way through a patchwork land As far as one's eyes can see It carries my soul And is a piece of me My special place I am so drawn to The place I dream and makes me happy My escape my sanctuary The place my heart calls home Such a big part of me Nottingham and all it's wonders Is a place I long to be."

"The Vindicator" by Nan DeNoyer

"Her arrow was swift, she never missed her target. Once they were in her sight, it was their demise.  No one ever saw where she was hidden, clever as a lion after it's prey.

Fearless!  A great hunter, well trained, with wisdom beyond her years. It was a gift she had, which she used well against her enemies. To the affected she gave freely, binding up their wounds as well.

Yet for the rulers of darkness, atrocities which they did, they became her Vendetta for what they did to her family!

She owned the Battlefield, she lead her prey into her own territory which she knew like the back of her hand. With great wisdom she lay traps for them in her forest where she dwell.

Those men who ate the flesh of men, their wickedness, from the kingdom of darkness ,knew no limits, with great pleasure slaughtered whom ever they pleased. Burned villages, unspeakable violence to all people.

Being a trained Warrior, from the kingdom of light, she took on the role of Judge, Jury, and Vindicator!

Vengeance was what she lived for, after seeing the horrible things they did to her village, only a young girl, she pledged her to kill the ones who tortured her family. She was but six then as she ran into the forest to hide. One day, I will look for the best Warrior to train me. He will know why I need his knowledge to kill those that burned my village to the ground. It matters not that I am a girl, "I am a Warrior of the Kingdom of Light", I AM ... I Can See It, I Can!"

Admiration . Tags :- #creativeminds #poetrycommunityofig #artofpoets #tribeofpoets #honestlyworded #poetsofindia #worldofpoets #globalagecaption #apoeticview #relationshipquotes #globalagepoetry #writtenword #writerscircle #writerssociety #lovepoems #poetofig #quotd #deepquotes #feelingsquotes #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writing https://www.instagram.com/p/CNMSPTmnHbD/?igshid=1bcjm5okynqp9

"Murmurations" by Peter Dome Poetrydome worldwide - https://www.facebook.com/groups/885869628090321/ Peter Dome Poet - https://www.facebook.com/Peter-Dome-Poet-112091340427571/

"As thickening dusk Subdues the retiring day Flocks of glossy plumaged  starlings Tired from a day of foraging and squabbling Now Repair to rest Congregate on mass Within the close proximity Of togetherness . Trilling and chattering in nosy array Perch upon the tendril branches of trees High up in the boughs towering eves As numbers increase In readiness . Suddenly they alight as one The tress now bare Of feather laden leaves As though they were never there Take to wing and perform One of the most spectacular and awe inspiring Phenomenal sights of creation has begun   . A dense shifting cloud of wing and feather Perfectly synchronized With regimental precision and formation   Put on the most magnificent air display That has mystified and captured the observer Since the Dawn of time Taking their breath away . A swooping sweeping darting turning Agile cloud cavorts across the expanse of sky An elaborate dance of in perfect formation To the beholder a revelation Skillfully changing direction in a flash As they fly . Athletic acrobatic hasty and agile That few words can explain or testify . The acrobatics now over The sky naked once more The showy performers Descend to the trees towering eves To rest and to roost Like artificial Abundant  leaves."

Kizzy Introduction - Tocktick by ResidentoftheDisc/H.M

Kizzy lay against the chipped tiles and made rainbows.

The stolen shard of glass glittered as she lifted it to catch the sun, angling her hands so the light shifted over her face.

Around her, the other kids were arguing over something – the increasing anger was a shiny-sort of pressure in her chest – but she was too busy to pay much attention. Each new shade laid a sheet over the buzzing of her thoughts, trapping them like insects in amber.

Kizzy had never been mistaken for her father’s biological daughter. They were a study in contrasts: he was brown-skinned and tall with a narrow face, prominent nose, and stiff and exacting in every movement. Kizzy was Fristian-pale, fidgety, and loud when speech was possible. Once a week, she ‘borrowed’ – in her very characteristic way – a razor from an unguarded drawer and shaved off as much of her hair as she could, usually leaving her head resembling a half-blown dandelion clock.

She had just turned the glass over for the twelfth time when someone landed heavily by her head.

Kizzy was on her feet in a second, fists up, lips curled back in a catlike hiss.

Tamiko, her closest friend, grimaced and stepped back with her hands raised. “Sorry. You were years away.”

“I dropped it!”

“Aw, damn.” A line creased along Tamiko’s nose as she swore, and she looked away then scratched the extra nub of bone on her elbow. Kizzy had been teaching her for a while, mispronouncing her way through the vocabulary of ratty penny dreadfuls, but the lesson wasn’t sticking. “Sorry. D’you wanna look for it?”

It was a long way down off the roof, so Kizzy shook her head. “No point. It’ll be all smashed to bits now.”

“Sorry.”

“Oi! Drowners! Are you still in?”

@rebelqueen-immortalbadass @cogesque @queer-crusader @honeyscript @radioactive-tiefling @fields-of-ink @dragonstoravens

"Come What May" by Peter Dome Poetrydome worldwide - https://www.facebook.com/groups/88586...​ Peter Dome Poet - https://www.facebook.com/Peter-Dome-P...​

"May comes in a blaze of glory Opening natures treasure chest The spectacular hawthorn adorns It’s pretty wedding gown And the perky trilling Robin Wears it’s Sunday best . The vibrant flowers open their hearts To the warm rays of the sun Butterflies flirt and flutter In an arial delicate ballet   A soft caressing teasing breeze Tickles the abundant paper lie leaves Throughout the glorious day . The majestic cows chew the cud The fleecy lamb's bleat run and play The blackbird joyfully sings at dusk And heralds in a new born day . Vibrant lush green carpets And clothed trees Sweep through valley and hill As idle days standstill And lazy trout Occasionally pout and try To kiss the sky , Soon the boisterous purging wind Will blow and the may blossom Wedding gown will be torn down Falling like confetti and screw across Littering the ground Until next year When May reapers."

Great show last night! Thank you to everyone who came out and all of the writers who shared their poetry and creative writing. 😄👏🌟

https://youtu.be/pa-KP-PXeYQ

Nan DeNoyer Peter Dome @nazneenbhatia Joey @veebo1     Kunle Ilupeju @uneducatedbroccoli @_namidanam Stark Hunter AntiPoet Wordsmith Sam Sampson @change.profound

"The Storm" by Nan DeNoyer

"It was a gorgeous Summer's day. Perfect for sailing on the sea. You know the kind, fluffy white clouds.

Scrumptious food, ample time relax and play. Conversations interesting , pleasant company. Not too many people, I hate crowds!

"Would anyone want to swim, what do you say?" Take a walk around the deck to see. Part of the sky in shades of pink shrouded.

Suddenly! Unexpected we heard thunder! Peaceful the day, WOW,  lighting fill the sky! Our ship's course shifted against the storm.

People scattered below, quiet nary a stir Would our sail tear, we need them, I Navigating the ship, thankful its not the norm!

My ship, my Lady, I'm so proud of her! My passengers safety home, I sighed. Relief! Quite a day My Lady did perform!"

The day before my 27th birthday and I managed to hit 20,000 words on my novel!

Original writing by Alexandro Botelho

"It is so beautiful the magic planted everywhere. Sprouting and blooming into endless life, growing into itself like a kaleidoscope looking in to infinity Little seeds blown on the wind and taking root in the most perfect place and time Nutrients from cosmic past arriving themselves fresh ingredients for an endless feast feasting on themselves the experience of becoming anew A new form the same as the old that never ages Only joy, and peace, and love the perfumes of these constant and silent exchanges."

i've never been so excited to finally introduce a long-awaited, much-anticipated character into my stories - HOLY MOLY I've been shaking with excitement over writing this one #OC since I was 17

I'll be right here

Even if I wait

for an eternity

For the love

You promised me

When you close

Your eyes and dream

Will I be

The one you see?