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Creative Writing

The writings on this page are contributed by current and former NLP members.


Turning it Around

She invites him, no wait, she insists he come
again into her bedroom, her lair
you must come, you are my husband
it is your duty to fulfill my every desire
i work hard and give you everything
you are my husband
again already, he dreads this
reluctant confused he resists
hisitates, trys to avoid
she pulls him in, berates him with her words
blackmails him, after all she does for him
this is the least he can do for her
after all he is her husband
for better for worse
becoming one
the walls in her lair
are covered in pictures
some still, some moving pictures
1000's of naked men
short ones, white ones, black ones
yellow ones, fat ones, skinny ones,
old ones, but she especially likes
the young ones
some dressed up , some tied up
leopard skin, some in plastic
bowties, laughing, upside down
close up, airbrushed
perfect, wet and dry.
She lays out the clothes
she insists he wears
black this time
she tells him how to pose
she half shuts her eyes
blurring her vision
fantasy for reality
reality for fantasy
takes her to another place
she tells him she loves him
one minute, whispers dirty words
to him the next
he looks over her shoulder..
confused
stares at the pictures
is he crazy, is he insane
this doesnt make sense
he starts to leave, she pulls him down
how dare you reject me,
you are my husband
I love you. She holds him when he cries.
consoles him and tells him to try harder
those pictures mean nothing to her
he is all that matters
I love you, you are my husband
till death do us part.

Shelly (honeybunny)


 

After Awhile

 

We can learn the subtle difference between holding a hand

and God changing a soul.

 

And you learn that Love means leaning on

the One true God because

company doesn’t mean security.

 

 And we learn that kisses aren’t always the truth and

presents aren’t promises and the only

unfailing promise is in our Heavenly Father.

 

 And you begin to accept your defeats with

            your head up and your eyes open,

with the Grace of a daughter of the Most High,

not like that of one who has no hope.

 

 And you begin to build your roads 

on the written word because

tomorrow’s ground is so uncertain for plans.

 

 After a while you can learn that

even the sun burns if you get too much but

there is never enough of the Holy Spirit.

 

 So plant your garden on good soil and

decorate your soul with the fruit of the spirit, instead of

waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

 

And you learn that you really can

endure ... that you really are strong

and that you really can do all things

through the One who strengthen you.

 

  And you really do have the worth of the daughter of the King

     You are more precious that rubies

       And you are called WORTHY!

 

Cheryl (serge_cheryl)

The Dining Room Table

 

She sat there at the darkly polished dining room table, her reflection mirrored

on its surface, in the middle of the great room, the beamed ceiling high above

her, the fans lazily circling, pushing the warm air past her cheek.  Her hands

were folded on her lap, head bent, hair falling loosely across her face,

obscuring her vision.

 

One would think it odd to sit just so. No curtains at the windows. Windows all

round. French doors thirty feet across the room.Totally exposed.

 

And yet, here she sat. She glanced down, not wanting to look, but her eyes

traveled there unwillingly.Totally naked she sat there. As if it were the

natural thing to do.

 

The fact that she thought it natural was even odder. Although, her head was

bowed for a reason. She was paying her dues. It was necessary, demanded really.

 

It was the only way to regain the peace. To stop the silence. That killing

silence. It worked every time. Always paying for something, she thought.  Well

she would pay the price. It wasn't really her anyway. She wasn't really here.

She was up there. On the ceiling. Looking down at this woman sitting naked in

the middle of the day at the dining room table.

 

What was it this time? She couldn't remember. Maybe it was something she wore

that wasn't quite right. Probably something she said or didn't say.  Yes, that

was it. It was usually the same thing. Just different versions.

 

So, this was the price. Stripped of all her defenses. Stripped naked. Make him

happy. Well, maybe not happy. It was more like a penance.  A catharsis. She

would pay his penance for him. He would be absolved. She was the Christ. He was

the sinner. And

 

everything would return to normal.

 

It was a good fix. Maybe one week or two, if she was lucky.  Well, it was better

than nothing.  Two weeks of peace. Casual conversation. Surface things. Sit

together in church. Attend social functions. Smile. Return home. An

uncomfortable truce.

 

Close her eyes and float away. It was just a body anyway. Really. He couldn't

have her mind. He wanted it. She was certain of that. She could endure. She

would survive.

 

She was certain.

 

Kathleen (lladehawk)

Rebuilding

 Loosing touch with with our natulral instincts

    feeling cut away from our basic source

      detached from our natural cycle....

 

   By intelect, ego loosing self and belonging

 

       Making the connection to the source

     Recieving fully the reconection of self to God

 

   Realizing the beauty we have is a reflection of his Glory

     As beholding as in a mirror....

 

   With years untold the reflection of his Glory growing

     Allowing our true beauty

 

   Our Love our kindness ourselves......

      When we become the reflection

 

      Our beauty can be seen in our eyes

        As it is first ingrained in our heart

          an imparting of our soul,

     Joined with that of the Life giver...

 

Cheryl (serge_cheryl)

 


Sanity

It seems to elude me

Floating above and around me

but never settling

Within my grasp

But like a vaporous cloud

When I reach for it

There is nothing there

It looks real but

I just can’t grasp it

And then other times

It settles around me

like a thick down blanket

On a warm muggy day

smothering me

And all I really want to do is throw it off

Get rid of it

Uncover myself

From all the saneness

that made me insane

to begin with


Kathleen (lladehawk)

Stillness

I am stillness.
Not the stillness of death. Cold. Harsh. Pale.

But the stillness of new fallen snow. Barely heard but
still felt.

The stillness of a lover’s breath… head
resting on my
shoulder…sleeping.

The stillness of waiting for a promise.

A stillness that has lasted years. Maybe lifetimes.

The center of my circle…myself waiting…
and on the perimeter
events, places, people, sorrows, joys…
revolving, spiraling outward at times,
and inward…sometimes engulfing me.

Feeling buried
but always
surfacing with just a breath left to keep on waiting.
Keep on living. Keep on loving.

I am light.

Not the harsh glare of spotlight that calls,
demands attention.

But the warm glow of candle inviting those that notice
and want, in need of a small fire, a spark, that will grow stronger when
shared. That won’t overpower or scar the soul with its heat.

I am music.

A mournful tune full of aching.

Kathleen (lladehawk)

Earthquake

I didn’t even know I lived near a fault line, so it was completely unexpected when the earthquake shook my world. I was just walking along when I felt a slight tremor. I looked around, but everything seemed to be okay, so I kept walking. Then there was a violent shaking, the ground was unstable, huge cracks formed and I thought I might fall into one. It grew even worse, more violent, buildings crashing around me and even on me. As I crawled from beneath the ruble, I saw so much destruction. It was difficult to comprehend the extent of the damage.

Buildings I had thought were indestructible were leveled. These structures were important, vital parts of my life: trust, purity in marriage, honesty, security. Some other buildings were badly damaged: self-esteem, respect. Oddly, some new structures had been formed, but they were hideous. It was excruciating just to look at them: betrayal, questioning, adultery, deception, physical danger. Some buildings still stood strong, and they were the ones that gave me the strength to go on: God, faith, love, children, friends.

It’s been days since the earthquake. I’m rebuilding now. The new foundation has been laid for trust. Repairs are being made to self-esteem and respect. I spend much time working on these, and seeing them becoming stronger is encouraging to me. However, sometimes I hear a noise or see movement in the area where the new, terrible structures arose. I look in that direction and think that I need to tear those down, but they look strong, and it could take a while. I’ll need to get stronger before I can completely destroy them, and even then, some of them will probably always remain.

Sometimes, I glance back at the buildings I can’t rebuild: purity in marriage, and I ache. Such an emptiness. I never thought that one would go. Others are missing too, I know they are, but I cannot name them right now. I just feel their absence. Sometimes, it’s dark, and it’s hard to work in the dark because I can’t see what I’m doing.

Now I wonder what the future holds. Will I rebuild only to have another earthquake? I don’t think I could do it again. I think the cracks would be too large, and I’d fall in. I want to believe that we’ve moved, that we’re no longer near that fault line. I want to believe that, but my trust building in still under construction.

It’s strange the feelings that emerge. Sometimes I’m happy to see how strong the love is, to see how the new building will be even more beautiful than the old. Sometimes I’m sad to see the ones I’ve lost and can never get back. Sometimes I’m angry for those ugly buildings that are always lurking there, mocking me. But usually, I’m somewhere in between.

I don’t want to look back. I just want to rebuild. I want my world to be better than it was before. I want the ground to be steady. I want love unshakable and growing. Someday, I want my children to look at the work I’ve done and be proud. Someday, I want to look next to me and see my husband’s world, not dim, not murky, but crystal clear. I want to see his world clean, no litter on the streets, no thieves hiding behind corners, all the lights on in the buildings. I want to see his love, faith, honesty, self-esteem, relationship with God, loyalty to me and family, happiness, all standing strong and everlasting.

Kelly

 

 

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