Monday, August 21, 2017


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     Everyone in the good ole U.S.A is super psyched for the "Great American Eclipse". However,  for some this national event is viewed with superstition, and fear of the "apocalypse" or something equally bad. Because of these fears, the truth tends to get confused with myth and I'm hear to set them straight.

there is absolutely nothing to know...there is only omnipresence, infinity, absolute reality and there is no name for this. --Robert Adams


Contrary to belief, the eclipse won't bring the Apocalypse. While something bad may happen to someone,somewhere in the U.S. It doesn't mean that it was caused by the the eclipse. First some safety tips.
  Here's whats true.  
  • Yes, Looking at the eclipse with sunglasses of any kind(I don't care how strong they say they are its a stupidly dangerous idea!)will cause blindness. Instead use NASA or ISO approved glasses or even a welding mask. 
  • When you are taking pictures of the moon with any camera, it will cause irreversible damage  to both your retina's and your camera's lens. Please use only NASA approved cameras or watch it on the TV. 

  • The Apocalypse will never happen but, believe what you want. Having myths about eclipses has been around for centuries. And were originally created to help understand why the sun turned black during daylight. In Norse myths, the solar eclipse meant that Ragnarok( the apocalypse) had come. The ground would turn to ice and the sky to fire wiping out humanity and the "Gods of Asgard". The Dead would rise from the grave and Hell would come to rule the "New World". 
Related imageImage result for pictures of undead skeletal warriors modern
  • Myths like this one are what inspired this belief, the Aztecs, Egyptians, etc. There is no Zombie Apocalypse, or Day of Retribution and in modern society we have a tendency to over react about this kind of stuff. The idea of an eternal darkness both excites us and spreads fear. Seeing as how, we as, humans have a somewhat happy/crazed view of the un-dead, war and radiated mutation.  
In short only you can decide what you believe but, please take caution when watching the eclipse.
It will only happen again in 7 years!

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

An Apology and A Promise

        Hello to my readers! I apologize for the lack of posts. I've lost my poetry book that had many stories and such that I was going to post. So my brain has been trying to create new one, remember the old and find that book! If you have any ideas for subjects you would like to read about please leave them in the comments! And I'll write either a poem or story about it!

    Since school is starting my posts won't be very frequent but, I promise to try and upload 5 posts per week. Also thank you to everyone who reads Whispering Willow!

Monday, June 26, 2017

Corrupted Prisoner (c) L.S.R

Image result for depressed female angelRelated imageHello old friends, 
I greet the coming visitations
No strength left to fight,
Or will to resist temptation. 

The sins of my past,
Awake with crying shrieks
Prying and preying upon my weakened heart.
Visions of twisted memories 
Flash before the darkness, 
Flying as though poisoned darts! 

Spirits and demons lurk within seeking my ruin
Freeing the pain from its prison, 
The wronged from a well of despair 
Memories best left forgotten,
Image result for depressed female angelSprung from lock and key give aid to the arisen. 


Bound in chain and shackle, 
Emotions are released.
Crashing forth the barriers break
Succumbed to their fury,
I quickly wither surrounded in their vile cackles. 

Beaten and broken
I cry for eternal sleep
Amid the lifeless desolation,
 Wish granted, death swiftly brings peace
Playing my soul for keeps.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Oceans Defeat (c) L.S.R

Image result for ocean storm wallpaperLike memories the droplets of water fall 
The ever-falling sea rises up towards the eagle's mighty perch, 
Falling swiftly in defeat. 

Cries of victory the mocking hunter exults
And echo's through-out the sky.
The sea becomes unruly,
Waves of grief towering with rage 
Vent upon the ever mocking, watchful eye.

Silent shadows rest themselves upon the battling ocean foe,
As night enters like a thief
Image result for eagle wallpaperCasting it's cloak over element and beast. 

Calming winds flow through air and water,
Soothed the ever-falling sea stills
Like winters ice, exhausted, 
Eyes closed, sleeping placid as a babe.


The ever-falling sea, 
Battle worn,
Surrenders to the ever mocking, watchful hunter's eye
Serene, but never calmed,
Until the chains of restraint and defeat are broken. 

Shining Darkness (c) L.S.R

Stars of radiant white light 
Image result for female angel alone in darkness wallpaperFill the emptiness with warmth,
Shining bright they dance across the forever dark. 
Time stands still when they appear,
Darting to' and fro' 
Spikes and sparks left in their wake,
Unknowing, absorbed without problems or aches. 

Image result for stars in darkness wallpaper"A ballet of light." I muse quietly,
Alone and unnoticed 
Silent I stand in the darkness, 
Willing and yet unwilling to make myself known. 

Surrounded by emptiness that seeps through the soul,
Doubt and fear pierce the heart
With thoughts blue as twilight,
And black as coal. 
The shadows calls towards the disappearing lights of starshine,
Once again the ever sweetly persuasive whispers
Reach and pull my essence adrift. 

Unnoticed or missed 
I join the inky, beckoning fingers of the shadows,
Floating aimlessly amongst memories
Confused at my existence,
Lost, and yet found.


Dancing round me, 
Spirals of sparks and spikes 
Calling out to me "Come and join our dance! 
Oh come and join the lights of the angles!" 
Surprised, yet shy
Afraid but longing for understanding 
Another calling reaches towards my essence, 
Stronger, fiercer, unwilling to let go! 

Torn apart by shadow and star 
Adrift, afar from both I am now,
Joining neither, my answer still unclear. 
A choice to be made, 
Neither decided
Instead I wait and watch 
Fading and not fading out of existence,
In my shining darkness.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

The Raven

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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— 
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— 
            Only this and nothing more.” 

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; 
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow 
    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore— 
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— 
            Nameless here for evermore. 

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; 
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating 
    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door— 
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;— 
            This it is and nothing more.” 

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, 
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; 
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, 
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;— 
            Darkness there and nothing more. 

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; 
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, 
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” 
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”— 
            Merely this and nothing more. 

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, 
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. 
    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice; 
      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore— 
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;— 
            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!” 

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; 
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; 
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— 
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, 
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, 
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore— 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” 
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” 

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, 
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore; 
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being 
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door— 
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, 
            With such name as “Nevermore.” 

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered— 
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before— 
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.” 
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.” 

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store 
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster 
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore— 
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 
            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.” 

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, 
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; 
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore— 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore 
            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” 

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; 
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining 
    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, 
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, 
            She shall press, ah, nevermore! 

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 
    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee 
    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore; 
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!” 
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!— 
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, 
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted— 
    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore— 
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!” 
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil! 
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore— 
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, 
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore— 
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” 
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” 

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting— 
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! 
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! 
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door! 
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” 
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” 

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; 
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, 
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!
( this poem is from the internet and the picture as well, I only used them for entertainment purposes. No copyright intended.)