The darkness has a power of its own at times. Especially when one is alone and thinking of someone that sets them on fire with lust. This is one of those dark writes, but an alluring one to. Well done, crimsin. 🙂

Your poetry lives deep within my heart forever. Even if I don’t get a chance to read your work for a few weeks, your words and poetry always amaze me. xo

Passionately penned, Brenda. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Aww she sounds like she has everything under control. Nice;))

I love this tribute to the Calico Queen–her confidence, elegance, and sly playfulness leap off the page! She reminds me so much of my tuxedo cat with her gorgeous green eyes — my cat is such a girly girl tho, she leaves the hunting to her big brother, she doesn’t want to get dirty lol. But she rules the house with just as much grace and charm.

I have a male orange tabby who has the mentality of a dog. I’ve had cats all my life, at times, multiples. I love adopting when I can, even the older ones that have a tendency to be overlooked. I don’t believe a house is a home without one – a dog or a cat, or whatever you choose. They all need love, and it seems to me your calico queen has taken over the residence, quite nicely!

Thanks for the nice comment, Kelly. 🙂

Beautifully penned, Tim. Cats are spectacular companions. Mine passed away a few summers back, a year apart. They lived to the age of 20 & 21 respectively. They seen me at my worst and my best. Appreciate you.

Damian

Rob, your poem drifts like a half-remembered dream, tender and yearning. Each day carries longing, memory, and desire. The way you reach for someone across nights and cities is heartbreakingly beautiful. Even sleeplessness feels like a lover in your words.

Beautifully done

I love this!
Everything single line

This is spot on. Your passion about art is as vivid as one could reveal. Your a true artist Paulo.

If Art was a dude, we’d be kicking his ass for taking up so much of our time!
yet, it’s a drug, and we are addicted.
You summed it up brilliantly. Well writ.

Art hurts, art is a nail in a guilty as hell criminal’s hand.

Eternally caught red-handed.

Powerfully penned, PAR. Excellent write my friend, you always bring the thunder. Appreciate you.

Damian

My father had dementia. I have written notes but no answering machine voice which would be really great. You’re lucky. You have some unique writing here. Glad I read this. Good one.

I wasn’t expecting the pictures this painted with words. It was so vivid that I could feel those memories even though they weren’t my own.

That’s a really moving and powerful piece. The way you capture your father’s voice and the layers of memory, from the “palimpsest of tobacco teak” to the echo of his working life, is just beautiful. It really makes you feel the weight of what’s been lost and the preciousness of that preserved memory.

Profound ink Ghosteen.

Bat