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The placebo affect

 

See all of my Creative Copy Challenge results here.

 
 

Sick of your life? Tossing left and right?
Few people wait just a little bit longer.

Keep, keep going,
but open your heart,
and listen hard: Why are you here?  What is your purpose?

You must make some reason to believe
in the good things awaiting you.
Start thinking carefully
about your goodwill, as long as
it takes for you to get it and keep it real.

Because being one of the few
is like being a really sick patient who doesn’t take pills
it takes 100% patience, and that popularity is too mainstream.

While answering these questions,
enjoy the ride,
the quest to conquer your passionate soul.

 

www.creativecopychallenge.com

 
 
 
 
 


Stace

 
 

Posted on

Bowwow

 

Just a little something for our writing class. We’re supposed to describe our soul.

I thought of mine, I thought of my beloved, I elaborated the whole idea, and this is the result.

 
 
‘Tis little soul hops to and fro
jumping from pillow to pillow
giggles. I wiggle and jiggle my tail –
it tickles me.

At this high, I yearn for a fellow
to give for, of myself, at those pillows I throw
‘tis running Spirit belongs to my beloved Master
but it desires to come out and play! “Woof! Woof!” I want to feel alive!

I dream of a furry boy of my kind
who smells and feels bigger than my own
I get all soft in this bubbly air.

What huge rear!
What big ears!
And that wagging tail!

My Master sees through me, I pass the bone to this man;
all my helpings into his bowl. I drool.
Sharing is good, My Master once said. I share
in hopes that his protruding, pronounced nose would sniff back to
where it belongs – locked with mine, his my key.

I see him. He sees me. “Woof! Woof!”
Master kisses me softly, “Confidence, little one,” in my ears
I jitter. “Play with him. Have fun!”

We played in the bushes, wrestle and fondle our bodies –
we made it through the rainy day.
I’m your bitch, I bark. He licks my face
cushions his nose on mine. It felt warm while it’s cold
like a fallen raindrop nestling on the tip of my nose.

“Woof! Woof!”, he says. “Wife! Wife!”
His tail pointing at me as the first golden rays begin to arouse
‘tis feeling, it tickles me, our tails tangle as a spoonful of spaghetti;
I snuggle in his belly, he cuddles all of me
Our souls become one.

We are home. Me and him
and the Master of our little souls.


 
 
 
 
 


Stace

 

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Twinkle, twinkle

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Just a poem I came up with while feeling emo. Nonetheless, enjoy.
 

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I may be slim
but not a light.
My soul is dim
you make me bright.

You push it right
You pull me tight –
a distant star, I am.

Chances are
I’m merely a fleeting thought,
a figment of your wild imagination.

But here I am
much alive and shining,
Made for you
Made of love.

You + me
together we shine
Like golden rays of sunshine.

It goes
We glow,
We grow.

 
 
 
 
 


Stace

 
 

via Art Gallery Fabrics

 

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Food fuels goods

PROSE

 

An apple a day keeps the doctor far away
A cabbage soup a day keeps the nurse away too
While chocolate a day keeps the therapist away

When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade!
And a handful of nuts is when life gives you nuts!

So keep stress at bay and wake up fresh each day,
Have your oatmeals the first meal for the day
Before your wholesome health seizes the day!

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

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Paradise

POETRY

This is one of the numerous poems I wrote when I was in high school, recently found in my old diaries I still keep in my bedroom.

 

Listening to the ocean breeze
Where seagulls calling out at ease
Watching the slow-swaying palm trees
I feel like I’m in paradise.

In an open field with children
Running place to place, to and fro
Baking in the sun as it burn
towards the flora as they grow
I feel like I’m in paradise.

Found my knight in shining armor
Riding a white horse with glamor
He protects me through the danger
Fighting enemies with anger
Tightly hugged me, gently kissed me
I feel like I’m in paradise.

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

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Hardknock

POETRY

 

Sink or swim,
lead life
with might and main
work hard play
ducks and drakes,
not.

Pinch and scrape
the long and the short.
Keep it
spick and span
for the sweat is
mightier than Stonyheart.

His bread and butter
rough and tumble -
by leaps and bounds
at sixes and sevens -
knocking over
the lap of luxury

Thick and thin
wise
make Free through Will
Live
fortunately,
fellow warmblood.

 

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace

Posted on

Horsepower

POETRY

These are the three drafts for the original poetry we have to do for a creative writing class. Enjoy!

 

 

ORIGINAL

 

“Standing Still”

My soul gallops
roams wild and free.
travels places
unknown to the world.

smells and feels
a breath of fresh air
dewy green grass
the morningafter, soft, tiny buds grow.

dreams of faraway breakaways

imprisoned in dark waters
sunk deep in to the leaves
with many dying butterflies
fluttering their weakening wings
until dawn breaks

My soul has been seen.

out there dancing in the whispering winds
wheeling in open skies, running at liberty.
never entrapped, never tamed, never will.

May you have a nice ride.

 

 

REVISED

 

“Neigh Myself to Sleep”

My feet moves in high and low
hurdles. gallops
hither and yon, then and now

through faraway breakaways

roams wild and free.
Travels to places
unknown to thee.

O my prince,
feel the fresh air!
swiftly I prance,
softly you touched my hair.

the grasses dewy green

when dusk falls,
tiny buds grow. I rest my cold feet
by the waterfalls;
sinking in, seeping through
deep in to the leaves, I fleet.

These legs I wore, indefatigable
The roads ahead, unfathomable
Feel the rush! yet I’m still.
These rapid dark waters!
until dawn breaks

My soul has been seen.

Out there dancing in the whispering winds
wheeling on skies unbroken, running gaily at liberty.
As I stand untamed, follow the flutter of the butterflies
them wilting souls will lead with weakening wings

Fore shadows never disappear
’til the Sun shines on the other side
Before thee I shall reappear.

I may be Your maiden, your mare
Here I stand never mined, never will.

May you have a nice ride.

 

 

 

FINAL

 

“Horsepower”

My feet moves in high, low
hurdles. gallops
hither and thither, then now

through faraway breakaways

I roam wild and free.
Travels places
unknown to thee.

Come, my prince,
feel the fresh air!
A single soft touch to my hair
and short and swift! I prance

to the grasses dewy green

until dusk falls,
tiny buds grow. By the waterfalls
I standstill, rest my cold feet
sink in dim, seep through deep
in to the leaves, I fleet

These legs I wore, indefatigable
The roads ahead, unfathomable
Feel the rush! Yet I’m still.
These running waters!
Until dawn breaks

away you came with me.

Hop on. Let’s dance to the whispering winds -
wheel on the unbroken skies -
I set them butterflies free,
whose dying souls weakened
with whom my wings have wilted.

Hang on! For these shadows will disappear
Look ahead, and ripple, I will
against the currents,
before the Sun,
greener grasses will reappear

For you, my prince:
I never mind,
I’ll never flee
Here I stand
as your maiden, your mare.

May you have a nice ride.

 

 

 

 

Muchaluva,
Stace