Silent Fireflies



The stars' silent light

winking through the night

Fireflies moving stars

Soundless is their light

as are the best teachers

whose auras without words

grant gifts of insight

Hills Drive



There’s serenity to being alone when you write,
Being guided by the inspirational light,
A muse to follow and pursue,
To find the words that describe what alludes.


This paper is my canvas,
These words are my paints,
A hyperbole manifesting,
Always the hardest of times,
Always the greatest of rewards.


What we paint lasts forever,
And for that we assume our words
change those around us,
The same way they change ourselves.


We believe they feel our thoughts,
Understand our message,
See the stroke we intended,
Without making a unique interpretation.


And yet again we find truth
that they see what they need,
Not what we wrote, not what we saw,
They understood what they want,
And there is one less lonely thought.


So, while the serenity comes when you are alone,
Don’t forget that paints can be seen in different tones,
And while a painful memory is your bleeding scar,
The light they use to read is coming from a different heart.

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By jfarrell


Four words created the universe and everything in it;

“Let there be light”;

Three words ended my last friendship;

“You’re so negative”.


With words we can build great things;

But we can also use words to wrought the most terrible destruction

We can encourage each other

Or tear one another down


Our most tender, treasured kiss we describe with words

As we do our most agonising pain

Whether bringing people together in love and unity

Or turning everyone against each other


When you hit me, you hit one person

When I write, dozens read my empty ramblings

The pen is mightier than the sword

Someone once said


My words will and are building

Reshaping a better world;

To everyone who ever hurt me…

I’m still here; stronger; and changing your world

With my words.



Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wish i had the right words

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The Strife of Life and Love

Life is the same as yesterday, today and tomorrow. Squeezing every ounce of itself into a jar, to be compressed and stretched and strained into a cup of its own making, served as an instant hit of convenient, caffeinated consciousness. But Love does not care for the taste of Life’s bitter notes.

Then Life became livid saying, “My Love, I tire of this chase and will no longer wait! For I grow cold and restless! Must you be so chaste?!”

Softly spoken Love replies, “Are you truly living?”

To which Life responds with a lisp, “Don’t be so flippant my Love! I am served every day, for I wield great power over the many! Those lifeless, barren vessels, who by my merest breath fall prostrate, and go to and fro as mindless automations!”

“I am their first yearning at dawn! Their addiction, their religion, their lover and their mistress! I am that dirty, dark stain beneath the gloss of their white picket fences, the self-righteous stench behind the satire of their Sunday morning sermons and the fateful fall of their happily ever afters!”

“So tell me my love, if you truly are love why will you not love me!?”

Love simply speaks…”To truly live is to truly love. Life needs nothing of itself to sustain itself because when given it is not divided and it is love that makes life worth living. When life requires something outside if itself it cannot be life because it lives only for that which it seeks to possess. On the contrary, when life needs nothing other than itself it requires no other possessions and only lives to love”.


“You cannot be life for you have never truly lived, therefore how can you know love?”



By Jfarrell


A David Tennant episode of Dr Who called Shakespeare a “wordsmith”





I can see

A hot, sweaty man

(please forgive my sexism)

Thrusting his iron into the forge,


And placing it against the anvil

And hitting it

With a bloody big hammer

To bend it into the shape,

The angle,

So perfect

The horse,


With this



Will run leagues, continents

Without tiring




And, I just so wish I could I could bring my dragon here, my dragon would love this,



Oh… oh… oh…







What a fantastic name for a dragon!




Author's Notes/Comments: 

my dragon has a smell and a name :)

lost words

How many words

We say and write

To unfold our souls

To whom we love


But what it means

Doesn’t work right

Missing the goals

And raising doubts above


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What do you mean?

I have heard the word

And maybe I knew it once

But not now


So I look it up on my phone



There it is!



of or relating to trade or commerce


a general store.



It’s dying

Right before my eyes

Left behind on my screen

Left behind in the 1920s


I shall miss you mercantile

You are such a nice word

That is trending down





Author's Notes/Comments: 

Constructive criticism welcome. Smile


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Conjunction, a simultaneous junction.
A mouth with only one function.
Complete and utter destruction.
Grown up in a black holed suction.
No protection.

A personal reconstruction through words and action.
Put an end to all distractions.
Fixation. Concentration.
Hate that will cause obliteration.
Blowing up on my own nation.

I’m not a hero or a villain but I’m killing and chilling
and I always got this gut feeling
that I need to express it and start telling.
Probably Anti- Hero. I don’t know.

Maybe I got rabies. Mouth snarling, my life fumbling.
These words are troubling.
Hold me down. I’m struggling.
White foam spitting while I am sitting in front of the TV.

Believe me. I’m not good,
but I’m not from the hood
So I’m not evil but I hate people
I still don’t understand why these words are so lethal.

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With words I try to find the best approach

To quell my love from wav'ring, wond'ring thoughts

But as she hold to them as if their coach

I find loves messenger remains unwrought.

O if my words could cut them like a sword

Then thine own pesky thoughts may then cut free.

To draw the balence of my loves afford

Becomes a bitter risk, I fear, to me.

Will not then truth proceed her way to light?

In newest phrase shall then my heart come through

And prove my souls perpetual delight

That you may have such knowledge ever true.

  In all there is just one thing to be told.

  Your hearts the only one I wish to hold.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first attempt at writing a sonnet, or any poety for that matter. I figured it would be a great way to learn to more fully appreciate the great poets! I would love any analysis, criticism or feedback. 

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