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Call me crazy but
there are some nights when I feel like wheeling above the stars
And some nights when I believe I really can


Old English Riddles #1

I came across some Old English riddles (translated by Richard Hamer), and they felt very Hobbit-esque, so I thought I’d share. This is from a tenth-century manuscript, but the item described is still very well-known today. 166 more words



I lay upon my sweaty bed
locked in unseen chains
bounding me in dread

a frozen figure standing there
draining out the very air

he bleeds me without a touch… 33 more words


Trading Standards

Your corporate poison,
My body’s decay.
A lingering feeling
That won’t fade away.

A drop in my bloodstream
Laying still in the vein,
Just one more hit…

119 more words

M.J. Moores reblogged this on and commented:

MattIn his younger years Matt fell into a severe depression, lost focus at school and frequently neglected to attend altogether. This state of mind persisted for many years and began blogging, in part, as a way to say farewell to the negativity that pervaded his life for long. Matt doesn't say definitively whether writing has been therapeutic or cathartic, but he is certain that it became the most important thing to him. The purpose of his blog The Truth About Shadows is to share of his favourite poems and offer observation which he hopes will be objective and inoffensive. Matt lives in the heart of Suffolk, in an urban area at the edge of town, where he enjoyed exploring the surrounding fields and sporadic woodlands. He has a keen interest in photography and photo editing. [Bio taken as excerpts from Matt's About Page] http://thetruthaboutshadows.wordpress.com

Prompt for October 22: Two Haiku about Armageddon

Dark is the future
To which we all shall soon see
In this: the Earth’s end.

Where ev’ry soul fights
For the dark or for the light. 10 more words


Sensing Autumn

Seasons darken and come round again
to this dark time,
where the candles come out,
and all round are spectres of the past,
of what might have been, 76 more words


POETRY: Hell, by Sarah Manguso

The second-hardest thing I have to do is not be longing’s slave.

Hell is that. Hell is that, others, having a job, and not having a… 201 more words