that will hyperactively quiet well

The title of the poem or short story is "Conceited Jerks ".

Can you write a poem or short story for this title?

May I have a different one please sir?

"Conceited jerks' is so not me.... it's a judgement call... and it doesn't sit well for me...

The title is "Spiritual Happiness"

Can you write a poem or short story starting with this title?

Spiritual happyness

I have a freind who is shia and she has been trying to express her spiritualness, but has found that other sprititualness infringes on her own. She was just wearing a simple scarf to cover her head , but when she switched to a more traditional head covering, a number of her customers(she is a conveinent store clerk) they took exception to it and threatened to stop coming to the store if she continued to wear the traditional head covering. I am all for spiritual expression and individuality, but why do people feel the need to force there beliefs on you? This is america and the practice of religous freedom is in the constitution, but why does it only apply if it is mainstream and acceptable?
She is a great person and the least threatening person you could ever meet. These so called christian people are missing the point totally.
How would they feeel if someone took exception the the cross they wear around their neck?
I am an acccepting person and value different view points. I just do not understand how christians think they have the upper hand some how and feel the need to try and squash others freedoms when they would be up in arms if someone tried to squash thier freedoms.

Wrapped around contentment
are the layers of her life
first loves and curling kisses
loyal dogs and troubled strife

Wrapped around contentment
are the cloaks of herstory
Rich velvets and oily sackcloth
woven hearts and tickled finery

Wrapped around contentment
are the pages of her smiles
Dancing in the moonlight
trudging through the miles

Wrapped around contentment
are the traces of her tears
irridescent raindrops
and dusty wandering years

She's spiritually happy
in her onion like dwelling
as you peel away the layers
there's not much in the telling.

I'm Erica. I've been on this site for a pretty long time, but I'm brand new to the forums. I don't know that I'd classify myself as a writer, seeing as I don't really have the guts to share much of anything, but you guys seem like a great group!



Neil Gaiman, Douglas Adams, Haruki Murakami, Jane Austen, Lincoln Child and Douglas Preston, Rumi, e.e.cummings, Shel Silverstein, Roald Daul, James Herriott, R.A. MacAvoy, Dianne Wynne Jones, Frank Herbert, Alan Moore, Basho, and many others.

I like each of them for different reasons. In general, they all make me feel something I don't feel in my day to day life.



It's escapism and theraputic. I write purely to please myself.



I have no writing goals. As I said before, I write for myself. I have something novel-ish that I've written.



To write something. Anything. Getting something on paper (or screen) is the most important step. Even if it is horrible and it humiliates you, at least it's something to edit and work with. I would also refer them to an experienced, published writer who has been through that process more than once. I've found that most authors are pretty generous with their time and experience so long as you aren't obnoxious about asking!



I might, if I tried to force the process. I write when I feel like it. When I don't feel like it, I don't write. I occasionally go long stretches without writing anything, but I usually make up for it when I start up again.



I wish I could offer you some! I don't frequent any. Most of the time I talk with friends who also write. Maybe they get their information from sites? Perhaps I'm a second-hand mooch!



I have a good-sized list of words that I DON'T like. What do I like? Hm. Disestablishmentarianism. How's that? I also like "awkward" and "onemonepia". That one is fun to say. Words I don't like: supple, aloof, poultice, chunk, moist...the list goes on.



I think I'd like to sit down with Haruki Murakami. I'd also love to talk to Neil Gaiman. He seems like a cool guy and is very involved in helping new writers to get started.



Any time. Often late at night, but there really isn't a set time.



I used to write long hand, but I hate transcribing. I pretty much type only now.

Razujika,

I admit that Lincoln Child and Douglas Preston have a great way of writing thriller books! I try to collect all of their books for they truly make a book worth reading.

They are my guilty fun! I'm a Pendergast fan, but I really love the whole group of characters they have created. I haven't caught up with that series, as my library is currently packed up in (HEAVY) boxes! I'm still in the process of moving...

Thank you very much, that made my night so much better. Superhugs hope your night is awesome.

These words that I say may not be much,
but I wait the day to feel your touch.

The first time our eyes met there was no mistaken,
any mans heart is yours for the taken.

Looking at you is like a breathe of fresh air,
taking my eyes off you I would not dare.

My heart beats rapidly as if I ran a mile,
every time I see your sensuous smile.

The night that you allowed me to hold you in my arms,
you knew then I meant you no harm.

You present yourself with such style and grace,
no one dares move from their place.

You are a true woman that is what I see,
and a true woman is what you will always be.

Wow! that's awesome! So beautiful too. Welcome to this forum, have you been here before?

Thank you for your kind words, This peom is for the woman that I have not met yet.

I am new to the forums but not to the site.

I've lived through trail and errors,
I've made mistakes,
Consistently putting walls up as barriers,
I've done what it takes,

People trying to change this guy,
Letting them too,
And out of the clear blue sky,
There I am starring at you,

Living on great pain and overcome by exasperation,
Trying to control a growing list,
I've traveled life's path driven by expectations,
Never did I know that you exist,

In many of nights my eyes flooded with tears,
Ready to give up and say I'm through,
There you stood before me in all these years,
Never did I know it was always you!

Well, I hope you find her soon, as I know nothing of destiny or otherwise, I will have to say, I don't know you, but I like you all ready. Wherever she is, I hope you find her when the time is right. Smiles

This is pretty silly

I gave myself 60 seconds to write this tonight in response to the sixtieth time or so that I've been asked this question. Really, I swear I'm not a crazy dog lady, despite my profile!

...and despite the fact that my first poem seems to be about my dogs...


“Why so many?”
People ask,
their tones
and faces bewildered
(a little scornful),
Without comprehension.

“Body heat,”
I joke:

And they laugh,
And I laugh,

When the reality
is both greater
and simple:
Things happen for a reason
And they found me.