Rainforest FinalOnce there was an old woman who lived in a rainforest.
She needed a walking stick.
And so she made one.
The walking stick was strong, and it gave the woman new strength and she found it easier to walk around the leafy, cluttered forest floor.
The old woman and her tribe were called the Penan people. They lived in the rainforest on the island of Borneo.
Living with these people, the walking stick learned about them and the way they lived in the forest. He listened to the old woman tell stories to the children:
The forest is our home, but it does not belong to us. The land belongs to everyone, and so we take what we need and move on
The walking stick loved his home with the Penan people, he loved the hot, steamy, wet rainforest and he loved the old woman.
But soon the old woman grew sick. Walking grew harder and harder. It was hard for her to get up in the mornings. And then one day, she didnt get up at all.
She was buried, and the Penan people moved on.
They left her w
GrossFrom a very young age I held heavy in my heart a deathly fear of anything which exited the body. Of course, there were the traditional exports which all children had listed in their heads in order of ascending grossness, including but not limited to: spit, snot, boogers, vomit, earwax, chewed food, eye boogers, poop, wee, farts, sometimes including toenails. So it was with utter disgust I witnessed my mother and her boyfriend kiss, what officially began as 'good-bye' kisses, progressed into 'hello' kisses, and soon became 'I-feel-like-kissing' kisses.Gross3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
By this point I should have come to realize that gross things can only lead to more gross things, as my mother's hateful acts resulted in a baby, who exhibited the very height of my fears; upon exiting the womb- the very first sign of her apparently incurable disease or nastiness- began vomiting and pooping and weeing and not even able to take proper care of her messes. As a result I now know 3 facts: anything that comes out of
DearestOne might think that this place be entirely devoid of life, if that which thought it had not had to be partway alive.Dearest5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Gnarled, gargoyle-like trees guard the borderline between the depths of the forest and the farmlands of Hahn. The trees, once proud golden guardians of the forest, are now corrupted evil barriers. Legends of evil, stories with which to scare children- life is rejected from this place.
A woman stands, wavering, in the wake of the front line of trees. Alone for a while, she suddenly shudders violently and falls from the pale light of the moon to the dark of unprotected night. Far away, a wolf howls its yearning.
Ominous evil seems to creep in from the shadows, always just out of sight. This lush grand forest has been turned from the inside out into a barren place of death. Devilish creatures flock to its outskirts, only to be overcome by the aura around the place and turned from its doors to the dark corners of nightmares and intimate fears. For the
The Feather Of DoomInuyasha and the feather of doomThe Feather Of Doom6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
One lowly day in the feudal era all was calm as Inu and gang waited in a village which several youkai were rumoured to have been attacking lately. At this present time Miroku was .. ehem .*cough* and Sango was keeping a close.........VERY close eye on him.
Inuyasha was in a tree and Shippo was playing with the local kids. Kagome was looking at the fish in a koi pond when Inuyasha suddenly fell from the tree with a yelp and a loud *thump*
Kagome turned around to see what the matter was and saw Inuyasha poised for attack with tensaiga in his hands and a growl in his throat.
Um ..Inuyasha is something the matter? or are you just being a tard again?
A demon with no smell or demonic aura just attacked me from behind.
Son of a b ..
What did it look like?
I didnt see it. But it was light and and ticklish.
Seven Times Stupid“This is Seven.”Seven Times Stupid3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The girl can’t be an adult; if he had to guess, he’d call her sixteen. She’s thin, but not fragile; her grip on her spear is solid. Morris frowns. “Seven,” he says. “What the hell kind of name is that?”
“Not a name,” she says impatiently. “My number.” Her eyes are cold and blue and condescending. Morris thinks that’s rich, coming from a kid; he’s going on forty and he’s still alive. That’s something, nowadays. He hasn’t let the vamps catch him yet.
“Number?” Morris looks at Luke. So does Seven; she’s grinning.
“You said he was smart.”
The priest smiles back. “Give him time,” he tells her. To Morris, he says, “You asked me if the church had any hunters to spare. Seven will watch your back, and she’s a gem on the field.”
“Fine.” Morris sticks out his hand. “I’m Morris,” he say
Surprise Ch:2The Taiyoukai of the West stood, with the wolf demon tribes warriors from the East to the right of him, the wolf demons Northern warriors to the left of him, and the entire tribe of cats from the South in front of him.Surprise Ch:26 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The weather was good. Grey skies, a slight breeze, a promise of a summer shower, but not for another couple of days. He sniffed the skies and smiled when he caught a sense of fear from the cats front line.
He was not scared for his life. But he was scared for the life of his wife, and their children. Fear was not something he was used to dealing with. It was silly, stupid, the war would not last long enough nor would it be brutal enough for the cats of the South to overcome him and his army or dogs, wolves, and many of those which served him and his household.
But he was still scared.
And as the Inu No Tashio strode out in front of his army, he thought of his pups.
He remembered how he was slightly disappointed that he had four girls and only three boys
Mortal DeityIm sitting on a rooftopMortal Deity5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Praying for your star to fall so that you might return to me
Of course the heavens wanted you
The Gods, those selfish beasts
They called you to join their ranks
To lead the likes of the universe
But only mortals who die a heros death
Might keep their company
And so you left, eternally fighting
For your life and my heart.
I dont know how I got here
On this strange rooftop
But before they drag me away
Im praying for the heavens to fall
So that you might return to me
RunawayThe street lights became a blur as I ran past them. Street signs were unreadable, and I could not recognize a single landmark to show me I was close to anywhere I was familiar with. Were my ears thumping from the blood rushing through them, or was he still on my heels?Runaway3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I would never have a chance to check behind me, he would close in if given the chance. I screamed for help, but in the streets of the ghetto, screams were common, and no one dared to check the source from their safe homes. "Help! Someone please, I don't want to die!" I continued until my throat grew dry and my voice became hoarse.
Eventually I came up to a cobblestone street full of alleys. Could I lose him in one? Would it trap me and end all my chances of escape? I decided I would go continue forward. I would run as long as I could. I wou--. My arm was suddenly yanked hard to t
CarouselCarousel</b>Carousel4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
It spins around and around, the colors blurring and smearing together as though an artist turned on the blend filter. Ceramic, plaster, plastic, paint, long faces, huge grins, gnarled saddles and flanks, backs humped and ears chipped. The artificial ponies spin around, their grins never dissapating, no matter how ill their masters become.
I wanna go home.
"Why would you want to do that?" the horse's head turns all the way around, cracked neck extending, muzzled face brushing against hers, "Are you not happy here?"
The little girl clutches the twisted candy-colored pole with knobby fingers and looks around at the faces around her, all possessing the same enigmatically cheerful smile as the horse beneath her. They crane their necks simultaneously to give her a better view as the crowd blurs around her.
I don't like it here.
"Why would you leave when here you can live forever?"
Never-Never Land, always out of reach but inescapable once found.
Revenge is a Greasy PizzaShe sat there, quietly regarding the hordes of sticky children as they proved themselves semi-intelligent, larger versions of seaside gulls. The supervising parents showed just where those genes came from as they loudly exclaimed how brilliant the sand-eating buggers were.Revenge is a Greasy Pizza5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Blistering sunshine penetrated the plastic emerald umbrella which covered the shop front. Mel sipped heavily on her lemonade as condensation cascaded off its sides, and watched the rhythmic dripping of liquid onto the soft folds of her stomach.
The sharp, angry clacking noise of stillettoes reached her through the cacophony of screaming children, and towering over her was a woman drenched in pulsating, angry sunlight. Her presence seemed to frighten the children into shutting up. At least, temporarily.
Mel cracked something that was more of a grimace than a smile. Hello, Mother. I see youve survived the heat down here.
Ugh! The woman, who looked like a skinny praying mantis o
Hand RolledSitting in the sand, ankles itching,Hand Rolled4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we smoke hand-rolled cigarettes
and sip from wine glasses filled with water,
high on the smoke and stigma.
The waves beat the shore,
a soundtrack to our loneliness,
and together we face the dark.
We say we'll quit when we get older,
but it makes me wonder.
If I marry a woman like you, could I stop?
Wouldn't I sit with her in the dunes,
burning away our years like the embers of our cigarettes,
the cold of our glasses fresh in our palms.
Under clouds, no moon, no stars,
wouldn't we clumsily kiss, her half-warmth against mine?
If we really are the company we keep,
I worry for your sake,
but you haven't a care in the world,
enjoying dreams about tomorrow
because we both know we've already lost today.
The Full MoonThe full moon is shapeless to me, but I feel it in the way that it curbs the sharp edge of night, and I hear it in the joyful celebration of the crickets. I smell it like water and I eagerly anticipate the grace I cannot see in the papery confines of my calender. It is evasive, but it is there in the ease my familiars can find their car keys, even in purest night, and in the special on HBO on werewolves. It reflects itself in the sweetness of sitting, aimless, on the porch with white wine, and it twitches in my neighbor's fingers and it quivers in her warnings about keeping inside, about the mischief afoot. In midnight movies, or plays in the dark. In a blissful defiance, in the open sore of the sky; vibrating, humming with the light I have never had any way to imagine, like a word on the tip of my tongue, or a kiss hovering a moment from my lips.The Full Moon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bruisesi read somewherebruises4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that everything worth knowing
...and i thought,
"please, oh please, let that be true!"
i need it to be true,
i feel like i am covered in bruises
and that there is no reason for it.
i ask those questions;
"what did i do wrong?";
before i realize that the answer doesn't matter.
whatever the reason,
my bruises, my scars, my war wounds,
have become a record of my story, my life, thus far.
they are more than broken blood vessels,
more than broken skin,
CommuteO, Coffee! Dear friend,Commute4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Join me to-day
In our quest of unimaginable
Peril and contingency
The every-day is not mundane!
Though routine, not common!
Not for us, never!
Is not beyond us
Coffee, my friend
with you, I am untouchable
Unyielding to obstacles!
Together, we travel!
black and blue and yellow and pink
light and noises and smells
be excited, dear friend
crumble into the ever-present oblivion
bitter and bleak
We must remain together!
Lights are green; cars dissipate
We are almost late
Different SolutionsJuly 8, 2006, 9:13 AMDifferent Solutions5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Grandpa died today. I just found out by a neighbor of his who called me up. Just thought I'd write this down before I went down there to claim myself as his grandson. My counselor said this kind of thing [Journal Writing] is good for release without injuring anything. So this should definitely be something worth writing about, but I guess I better go down before someone else claims him before I do.
July 8, 2006, 12:28 PM
Got down here no problems at all. Stopped for food, but that's about it. Found out how Grandpa died. Heart attack. Went through some of his stuff. Most of it is for everyone else. Have to call them up and let them know, since they are all far away. Found Grandpa's journal. Skimming through it, I found many entries about a girl who went by his house everyday.
GoblinsA barrel of hayGoblins5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sits at my feet,
and from within,
beckoning to me
to join them.
They are goblins,
playing hide and seek -
a favorite game
I wish to join them,
on my shoulders.
pointing and laughing
as I try to explain
to the goblins that
I can't play -
I have to be grownup.
They call louder,
but still too softly
for the neighbors to hear.
Their jeering taunts
finally reach my ears,
and those same ears burning
at how foolish I have been,
far, far away.
There were no goblins -
there was only me.
LilyPetals draped in summertime,Lily4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
in inviolate violet.
Pristine lily, life divine
petals draped in summertime;
will your bell still softly shine
when the mold'ring meadow's quiet?
Petals draped in summertime,
in inviolate violet.
First KissThat first kiss...First Kiss5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is always the sweetest,
It leaves you the weakest
The open invitation,
To do something,
You've never done before
All the hidden meaning,
All of the feelings,
That pour through you both,
When your lips touch
Nothing, is the same...
Everything that you've known before,
Now just seems so plain
There is the promise of tomorrow,
And a hint of pain
That first kiss...
That you have waited so long for
In that moment of connection,
You aren't waiting anymore
That first kiss makes you come alive,
Makes you feel things inside,
That you don't, can't comprehend,
Knocks you off your feet,
Just like the wind
In that moment all is real,
You are unable to pretend
Even if it's only for,
A brief second in time
For that one heartbeat,
You are forever combined
jlp January 4, 2009
tonight in hell,the night is a gaping maw lined with wolfmothers barren-bellied and wailing, claws tearing rivulets down the charred flesh molting over their clavicles.tonight in hell,4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
the schizophrenics crouched at the windows over the arc-ocean are shivering. the backs of their skulls are bleeding, throbbing out bubbles of vitriol and in the endless neverlands of their eyes, behind where the Sammaels and the dying saints crawl, scraping their sin blackened knees against the trail of Christs rebellion towards their crucifixions, every womb on the outskirts of the murk spasms in regret, and the bleeding mothers, maimed, fall into the pooling sickness of their dying progeny cry, cry, crying to the stygian warlords to carry their hell-spawn home.
tonight in hell pantomimes of bones crack-clack and gristle-sing songs of war to the dead stars roaming the atmosphere. ballets of pelvic arches swirl in the light cast off of burning limbs, ghosts of lust and the sultry rhythms of love, of poetry and desire.
tonight in hell t
La Fin"C'est le malaise du moment"La Fin3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The moment of mindless destruction.
We saw the buildings fall all around us
as you clasped my hand in yours.
The dust rose towards the heavens
in search of a place to settle.
No silent place could be found.
"Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls"
As the fires burn through the city we know there's no one left.
A tear falls from your eyes, sparkling in the orange glow.
There are no words that can be said to calm your inner struggle,
Consolation is a thing of the past in our dead dystopia.
"Perdus les rêves de s'aimer"
I held you close, knowing the pain that could not be stifled.
A scream escapes you as tears crash to the ground.
A future does not exist when all hope is lost.
You're breathing grows shallow, I feel the life slip away.
There was no way I could have saved you.
CountingI count my ribs in the darkness, the flesh between them tender and, I think, too soft. I lose count, start again, wrapping my left arm under my right across my body to create a strange embrace, testing the armor under my skin. I wonder if I do this because it feels like being held. It feels like being held, without letting me think of the fact that I'm holding myself. Because I'm not. I'm counting.Counting4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Now. This one, here, just over the blood-muscle, is this plate strong enough? Or is it, perhaps, too thick? Armor can't be too weak, nor too heavy to allow for good movement in battle. Then again, is everything War? Is survival really that barbaric? Others seem to happen upon theirs merrily, childlike in their carelessness. Maybe I should be childlike. I did that once before I knew another way, and it earned me a long scar acros
Short Story Jack sat slumped down at his desk in Psychology class, staring at his textbook, and waiting with the other students for class to start. He was imagining the textbook floating in the air over his desk. In his mind's eye he could picture it, above twelve inches of empty space, blatantly defying gravity. The image stood out with an eerie clarity against the white-walled regularity of the rest of his surroundings. He had even managed to work in the wavy-grained wood of the desk-top underneath, where he knew in reality, his textbook actually sat. Logically he knew that that the desk wasn't actually empty. That the light that came pouring in through the single enormous window at the other end of the room was being reflected, not off of a bare wooden surface, but from the thick cardboard cover of Laws of Cognition and Perception.Short Story4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Away Nation.There is a song.Away Nation.5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I've been told it's about a girl named love and her story of pigeon-toed tragedy. I wouldn't know, my radio only sings about alive, textured things. Love is a color, a person. A color, an adjective, maybe a verb. Possibly a shape, but definitely a color. Everyone says it's red, but it's really clear, like glass. Cold and shiny and see-through and sometimes - well, sometimes plastic. This would never make any sense to you, you who always thought you understood what I was trying to spell out (stuttering red lips in the shape of love, screaming names of cities of people I used to know, places I dream about flying to. I'm terrified of planes, but I'm a bird) and whisper into golden Goldilocks' hair. Your face changed with the weekdays. Thursday. I loved you on Thursdays, but you listened to that song, that one about love. It's false advertisement. They say love's red.
You don't know. I mean, they don't. Know, that is. They don't know and neither do you and I'm left st
Murder in the Merchant Manor"Do not judge others by their appearance but be prepared to be judged by yours."Murder in the Merchant Manor3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was a lesson his father had taught him long ago, one of the few that he had not only remembered but adhered to his whole life.
Tonight was no different. Tonight he would make his fortune at last and he had dressed appropriately: fine white shirt, warm wool vest, black leggings, and his old soft-soled boots, with a blue naval cloak waiting on the bed. Simple yet fine, ready for wear yet ordinary in case someone caught him. Perfect.
He drew a deep breath. He knew that he had to go through with his plan to pay off his debts, to feed the servants and to boost his position on the financial floor, but after all these months of preparation, now that the night was finally here, nervousness pulsed through his body. It was a risky plan, anything could go wrong, but he must not think of that now, he must focus on the present, live for the moment, deal with events as they unfolded. He shook his thoughts away, turne