Articles written by April Self

What is Helium

About me - April Self

Hmmm where do I begin? Writing brings light into the darkest corner, can reveal the blackest secret and the whitest lies. It feeds the soul and causes thought to process. Writing irrevocably calms me down. I like to dabble in poetry, in funny quivel, and ironic

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Enemies: 1 of 115
Different enemies haunt us in scores.From weight scales, to liquor stores.Addictive agents that coax our mouths and eyes,that haunt our dreams and tell us pretty lies.We battle with the inner demons that haunt,every nuance of our worldly jaunt.With their forbidden delights they taunt,and on the heels of our feet continue to d... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Growing old: 2 of 190
Eyes weak with age.Time has weaved laugh lines next to your eyes.The skin maybe not as soft as it used to be.It doesn't matter to me.I see the wisdom of life sparkle.From eyes that've seen so much.You live your life and move on.Another day passes another dawn.Your hands are worn and arthritis pains.The truth is hidden there.H... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Hunger: 1 of 95
Gnawing away at my insides,this craving resides.I hunger for some understanding,to give in to my soul's demanding.In the still of the night when dark trickles in,the cravings begin again.And I search for some consolation,in the midst of my hunger devastation.It beckons my tears to fall in full force,reveling in its' main cour... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The ocean: 2 of 184
I stood on a cliff over-looking,a fighting force full of mixed feelings.As the wind whipped my hair,and I felt the anger there.The power,the pain, the unrestrained glory,the wild and tempestuous story.And I knew in my heart here was a friend,and an enemy intermingled in.Both bent on having one win.Like a living thing it tosse... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Soul-searching: 1 of 78
Tell it like it is,when your sitting alone. No one to hear you crying,no words to condone.Tragedy hiddenonly in your eyes.With no one to listen to your,pretty white lies.The news you won't utter.Even to yourself,you hide it onsome unmarked shelf.You're so afraidit might be true.You won't evenadmit it to you!In a darkened corn... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The front porch: 1 of 57
A wide white painted porch swinga place for memories to take wing.It's worn weathered paint chipping in spots,to sit and swing back and forth adrift in my thoughts.On the front porch it's back drop an old wooden house,thats' wooden frame is best friends and hiding place of the 'mouse.'Supported by wooden beams to hold out the... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Two hearts: 3 of 141
Entertwined, threaded together two strands of life,chosen for each other, husband and wife.Rings adjoined not only at the fingers but at the heart,blessings that only someone heavenly could impart.Two hearts bonded forever written before birth,their souls were meant for each other on this earth.Beating, living, breathing toge... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Wounded: 2 of 75
Deeply protruding.Pulsating with pain,in my heart yet again.The blood rushing,risingabove the noisy din.I feel the ache,with every breath I take.Inside my heart grows weary,of this burdensome load it's cursed to carry.The wounded feelings crying within.Without a thought,I carry the burdens I brought.Upon myself for lack of kn... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Give in: 1 of 35
She heard voices in her ear..whispering "Give in give up there's nothing more for you here."Standing alone in her room,cold and dark was the setting of gloom.That drifted with echoes of doom."There's nothing left, she thought aloud.Nothing left of worth in me, nothing to be proud.A weapon to end her sorry life she knew,rested... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: I must write: 4 of 134
They say "I must write!"Or should it be "Write I must!"Pull out that old pencil, and blow off the dust.Spirals on my notebook given to rust.Cobwebs in that darkened little nook.Where I'd retired my scribbled on notebook.I turned the pages yellowed with age.And let my writing tiger loose from its' cage.I wrote with ferociousne... More..