Save the Saboteur

I have lost someone vital to me
Will you help me find them,
Wherever they’ve planted
Their serpentine roots?

Something’s come loose
Will you keep me in place
Before I fall,
Asunder and suddenly confess?

My dreams are but a sea of ash and bone
Will you help me clear a path
To the forests I’ll burn,
Tomorrow and onward?

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Buried in Raven Black

I willfully invert myself
In her pitch black stare
Cast out,
From a distant cluster of stars

Again and again
I invert myself
In her wounding glance,
When I’ve died there before

Overflowing Gutters by William Wright, Jr.

Creative Talents Unleashed

The world

Overflowed with rage

Unleashed in panicked streams

For the gutters of his mind

And all too soon

He staggered

In the curves of his youth

Drunk

On the fumes of mankind

In his hollow gaze

Was the stroll of kin

For whom he lovingly strained

From infernal distress

All too soon he was crushed

In the surge

In the foam of the world

Unyielding

And boiling with strife

© William Wright, Jr.

William Wright

Excerpt from the book The Slums of Nightfall

$11.95 Plus Shipping ~ Available at CTU Publishing Group and Amazon.com


William Wright About the Author

My name is William Lorenzo Wright, Jr. I am the youngest of three children, as well as the only son to two loving and hard-working parents. I am a college student from San Diego California and I hold a deep passion for reading and writing poetry. I was sixteen years old when I first…

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Noctilucent Clouds

He is often overcooked,
When the day disintegrates;
Cooling off beneath the stars

On a nocturnal cloud,
Chasing clarity
Around and around in his mind
Until he’s tethered in place

When his scorned reveries
Have finally frozen over,
He’ll be dragged underground
Filled and content with never knowing

The Quick-March of Saints

I felt the rumble
I saw the blast
I fell,
Slashed open
By a thunderous wind

Deafened and rattled,
I soared from the encircling flames
On the back of a blood-stained stretcher

Severed in one move,
From the weary moans of old friends,
I was rocked to sleep,
By the quick-march of saints

The Aftermath by William Wright Jr.

Creative Talents Unleashed

It is only a dream
That thrashes around
In a hellfire arc
Each day

The illusion consumes
With a sickly greed
For our fragile yearnings
Our failings and fears

Perhaps we’ll awaken
To luxuries unknown
Or in a vessel restored
At the ready, for a world re-spawned

Who knows
Without a sliver of doubt?

© William Wright, Jr.

Rhythms of The Eternal Uprising

Excerpt from the book Rhythms of the Eternal Uprising

$13.95 Plus Shipping ~ Available at CTU Publishing Group and Amazon.com


William About the Author

William Wright, Jr. is a student from San Diego, California who wields a great passion for language and poetry. He was sixteen years old when he first fell in love with the art form and ever since, he has not deferred from its path. Writing has helped him when he was uncertain of his role in life. The craft brought him comfort when his fears were so immense…

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Featured Writer: Daginne Aignend

Creative Talents Unleashed

Enticement

Such a pretty young woman,

her slender lithe body framed

by the soft velvet red light

An invitation to come

into her world of delicacy

She smiles,

without a sparkle in her dead eyes

She shines,

due the resplendence of the lanterns

Eighteen years old,

fallen for the false lure

to find a better place,

to provide for her family

Devoid of money,

she’s forced to spread her legs,

just to survive

An insecure future,

an unknown country

This little flower

will slowly fade

© Daginne Aignend


picture!

About the Author

Daginne Aignend is a pseudonym for the Dutch poetess Inge Wesdijk. She started to write English poetry four years ago and posted some of her poems on her Facebook page and on her website. She likes hardrock music, photography and fantasy books. Daginne is a vegetarian and spends a lot of time with her animals.


Interested in being a…

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Stillness After the Crowd

The festival
Is now just a distant gathering of voices
Fading, to a midnight
Church bell’s lament

Some are lost to the mazes
Of spent fanfare,
In the unspoiled stillness,
Breathing sanity at last

These feral kings and queens
Now engulf the sparse nights
With their defiant red blaze