A Dream Come True - AnonymousSometimes I would have dreams about her after she moved across the state. I knew her for years, and the attraction was mutual, but I was a coward. Scared half to death of letting myself follow through with the things I wanted to do. Scared half to death to be myself, I guess. We flirted. We cuddled. We lay in the same room and had trouble sleeping because we were so painfully aware the other existed. But I was a coward and because of that, nothing went further than that.A Dream Come True - Anonymous9 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Of course, in my dreams, it was always another story. I'm not a very sexual person, and I haven't quite figured out if it's because I've always been with guys, and perhaps I'm more sexually comfortable with girls, or if I'd be the same way with everyone. But in my dreams, everything is different. Everything is beautiful. I am not a coward in my dreams. When you're asleep, you can do anything.
I'd recently started having them again. The dreams, you know. So when David and Jenn told me last week that they were planning o
NotebookI'm at the mall, sitting on a bench, with a notebook on my lap, and I'm scribbling out random dribbles and drabbles of thought. They're melting together, but not making sense, and the sketches of nothing in the corners bordering it are starting to worry me.Notebook7 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
I don't notice the first time she says hey, but the second time catches my attention. I almost thank her for it, but she would never have understood why.
She asks what I'm drawing. I tell her I'm not, I'm writing. She laughs, and asks what I'm writing. I look at the words and turn the pages back, and realize that it's not my style of writing. It's not even my handwriting.
But my hand wrote it.
I just tell her I'm not sure, that I was writing out thoughts, and they rarely come out clearly. She smiles and agrees before asking if she can join me. I say yes, and scoot over on the bench.
She sits next to me and pulls out a notebook. She flips through pages of drawings before she comes to a blank one, and sets her pencil to the paper. She
Forget-You-NotsAs soon as goodbye fell from your lips,Forget-You-Nots7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rolled down the front of your shirt,
And shattered against the floor--
Echoing like a pin dropping in silence,
It was at that moment I decided,
You never existed.
Each letter, each gift, each song
You dedicated and whispered in my ear,
Burned, thrown away, and forgotten.
Never happened. Not even a thread
Of you within my mind,
My heart or my dreams.
Replaced the sheets on the bed
Because cleaning them wouldn't do.
Every thing in the house
Just reminded me of you.
A Casual FuneralA plane home,A Casual Funeral8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
holding it together like winter in June,
a passed away friends dry ground
hard to find as any
from a mile up,
or only six feet away.
No cocktails, no Dramamine,
Ill sick and seizure just the same;
my manual is made of liquid,
fragile as a prayer
recited in slumber
at the luggage station,
where a conveyer lets go, go, go
until the rollers break;
until the rubber throws up its hands
in split hair strands, and finally says
A plain home,
holding it together like a desert palm,
a seed that strayed from comforts
of tropical showers to root
in spider-webbed salt flats
on a curious, epileptic wind
that carries each and every one of us
a mile up, or six feet down
Reasons for the WeekendReasons for the Weekend9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because human nature zig-zagged in reverse
from wand-waving mornings to night,
plucking on harp-strings with bitten-down nails
and mud-trudging through kitchen floors,
Because we ignored the blue neon signs
that smiled Enter through the gates,
and monkeyed up the glass walls instead,
with the grace of a bullet-filled car,
Love grew a shadow, and splashed Friday with ink
when he dived from a springboard of leather and wood--
but the spectators gave him nil out of ten,
though Perfection had wrapped him in white.
Because human nature keeps sliding down driveways
without elbow guards or mothering smiles,
because we attempt to feel more than our skins can,
stuffing ourselves with reflections of stars--
Sunday grew taller, for Love re-emerged
and de-plugged the pool as he skipped up the side.
His tattered grey scarf soaked the last of the flood,
and he left it behind as he walked past the sky.
TrainTrain12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where are you going my train(?)
with a clank-and-grind steady movement,
and red blink
I could hop on, hobo-style
and ride to San Fransisco
on stale bread and a sway of Jack Daniels
howling with Ginsberg
in the clankity night of
refugee-riding away from conformity.
Travel on the road
with my good friend Jack,
who's got the look of highway in his eyes,
small-talking into crazy dreams
and ending up in Mexico.
And me and Walt,
we could sing the song of ourselves
to every passing black cow in Iowa
and still have room for laughter.
hop on and never get tired,
howl and travel and sing,
but each time I hear that whistle blow
my mind says get off the tracks,
but my heart starts running for the clankity-clank, clackity clack.
summer children, we were'ii.summer children, we were'8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we carved animals
from ivory castles
floating in the sun. we were
the doting spring mayflies
twisting upon meadows,
wreathing lilies between
toes, breathing --
between the sheets
of golden chaff,
she whispered, "let's dance in the rain
on the cobblestone streets
before the singing rosebud
Natural ResponsesNatural Responses7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
When the men finally left, Dina came out of the outhouse where she had been hiding with Baby Jesse in her arms and went straight for Starling, Jesse's mare which was saddled up outside. One look inside the house had told her all she needed to know - Dina was a frontier girl, and she knew what a dead man looked like. Jesse had put up a hell of a fight, but this time it hadn't been enough. By nightfall, Maurice Black would be in the mayor's mansion, and he would make one of his thugs sheriff in Jesse's place. She knew how it worked; after all, Jesse had helped Big Tom do the same thing only a few short years before.
Dina put one arm around Baby Jesse in his sling across her chest, and used the other to hoist herself onto Starling's back. My, how time does fly, she thought to herself.
Maurice would have his boys watching the south road, towards the rest of the county. Maybe they'd let her go, and maybe they woul
CommunicationCommunication9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The first time I explained it to you
The words crashed into each other
And then shattered.
So I explained again more slowly
But the words slowed until they
Ground to a halt and were lost.
When I tried again they got
Twisted in your ear canal and
Warped inside your mind.
I lost patience and shouted so much
That the words were too big for
You to take them in without crushing them.
No matter how many times I explain it to you
You take my words and
Turn them upside-down and
And I get so frustrated
It's impossible to believe my own lie:
I don't care what you think.
Snows of Novemberlike the snows of November,Snows of November8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(lightly, timid in askance)
you will return to me
in due time;
without failyou will return
and my hesitant heart
(retreating, retreating, retreating)
will be a far-off beacon at dusk
to your false ardor, a poetry of obdurate conceit
whose interval seems unceasing;
All darkness and brooding winds
You twine and spin in savage dance
(quickening, hastening some new spell)
But failing, failing failing
while this distance increases (curing
the suffering amid our pleading eyes (yours
of forgiveness, mine for freedom)
but it also meansIt's mundane,but it also means8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the soda aisle
and my wandering, walking up
then down. I frown to distract.
And buy the soda you love
because you might, you
might be here to have it. Though
with I need a drink.
I don't need a drink.
The same strength, faux-weak
ness that I will always have,
and tell myself I learned from you.
I buy it, afraid I won't like the taste,
or maybe I will and it'll be there
for a few days squishing along inside me.
It's just fucking soda, but it also means
I still love you.
Candle-Induced EuphoriaThe rain seems to melt away in front of the candlelight,Candle-Induced Euphoria8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But really, it steams off,
Like a sky-blue slate in the morning glare,
Distilling and purifying,
Defying the grim reflux of repetition.
Windows glint, spraying eyes with light,
Retinas scorched with newer pigments;
They have gotten purer,
A better yield,
But it remains theoretical.
Love Song of the Other HalfYou said you had defined yourselfLove Song of the Other Half8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the crooks of my elbows, in the angle of my nose.
I looked in the mirror and found the curves of me
To be very much my own.
. . .
I would catch your eyes from across a room,
Across an ocean and beyond a beach,
And hold them there for precious, fragile seconds
In a dire reluctance to move
Lest my return be skewed, construed as something
More than coffeepots or the metal feet of desks.
. . .
Burn pictures of me now as the fog rolls in on mouse feet
Pray to God and science that they can lead you
To a warmer paradise
Because my curves are not for you, dear.
My self is not for you.
Too Gay follow-upAfter all the responses I got on my first piece, I feel like I need to clarify why complaining about people being "too gay" is harmful and the (often unrealized) implications of those words. I present the most common argument I heard.Too Gay follow-up3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
"I have no problem with gays. I have gay friends, but they don't act flaming/butch but rather like normal people. Why can't you just be gay and not have to act like it or let everybody know?"
Implication: "I have no problem with gays so long as they act like me. I am uncomfortable with people who act in a stereotypically gay fashion because it is not "normal". I see gender non-conformity or homosexuality as inherently wrong or inferior and therefore as something to be suppressed or embarrassed of. If you are gay, that's fine, so long as I don't have to be confronted with something that I disagree with."
Why this is harmful: Telling someone to suppress a part of their personality is offensive in gene