AcidI watch the acid dripAcid7 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
Fall from lips
So seductive to the touch
But across the way
Another moment of lust
She walks in beauty
The night wrapped around her form
Slowly I close my eyes
I must surely mourn
She caresses down my side
Across the way her eyes can touch
A simple laugh and her head tossed back
Lips glossy from spit
Alas not her own fool
Can I but close my eyes
And dream this sight away
She was mine
Only can believe
As the acid takes grip
She falls to melodies
Songs seperating us from realities
I touch my longing
Jealousy lost in lust
Here I have lost what is mine
Another night taken to my trust
An elixir broken in my hand
Empty the vial is
This moment may last forever
But the wish is only acid on my lip
DronesDrones8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
everyday we wake up just the
same like everyone else does
yet we work behind the curtains
fueling an already trailing flame
beating a dead horse with a broken feather
and at night when it's dinner time
when we feel most normal
our family created
we say grace like everyone else
the world not knowing we're the ones
that need it the most,
or at least they portray us as so
Remember, RememberOne hundred and nineteen years laterRemember, Remember6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Five dark, chilly days into November and as many since theyd come and burned Feathers, Wesley woke abruptly in the middle of the night to find his deceased pet perched on the windowsill beside his bed, watching him.
He didnt need the bitter clutch of the icy air to tell him he wasnt dreaming. The clock had gone seventeen soft ticks past five-eleven in the morning and it was still dark in his tiny room, but the scene was as real as the nightmares that patrolled the streets and as stark as innocence lost.
Wesley hadnt been able to protect him.
No animals, one of the rough men in dark cloaks reminded harshly during the troops nightly search of the village. He grabbed Feathers and held him carelessly upside-down by one lean leg, the birds distressed squawks jarring in the horrified silence of the kitchen. Wesley opened his mouth to protest, but his mothers fingers dug into his shoulder.
And the Beat DropsIt starts simpleAnd the Beat Drops4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the snap of a snare
getting slowly faster
notes gaining flair
but then he throws in another tune
and the jam gets complicated
the crescendo is still building
the dancers breath frozen, baited
and the beat drops.
Technicolor.Rainy was an odd girl.Technicolor.7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She sauntered quietly into town,
A million smiles covering a frown.
She had a fascination with decimation;
With reflective knives and mutilation.
She loved butterflies on a mission;
Seeing the world in Technicolor vision.
SeraphimThe angels singSeraphim7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A remorse song in native tongues
A chorus too beautiful
As it rains down
A child cries
With head in hands held dear
A silver tongue lashed
Against the back and the brow
Beaten is the man
Can love make a last stand?
Finding himself in circles where he stands
With head in hands held dear
I look to the sky with fear
Sing for me my angels
No power but yours should make me tear.
How to Deal with Twilight FansHow to Deal With a Twilight FanHow to Deal with Twilight Fans6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
A comprehensible guide to incomprehensible fans.
Many people against Twilight share the same reasons for disliking it. Its stereotypical, poorly written, and lacks any plot and originality. It has brainwashed millions of teenage girls and their parents and painted a false portrait of love. Men close to these twitards are held to higher standards of perfection. Young girls are setting themselves up for complete disappointment when they discover that no, boys are not made of gorgeous marble.
Many twitards respond with YOU SUCK OMG HOW COULD YOU NOT LOVE THEM THEYRE SO HAWT. Some will give you a good verbal joust. Some will be relentless in their support and refuse to accept reason.
Here are some ways of dealing with rabid fans, that make them look very stupid, and make you look very, very smart.
1. Know that there is no reasoning with her
When voicing your anti-Twilight opinio
ShiverAn earthquake rolls across her skinShiver8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as green curtains reserve a space
for construction -
he looks at splattered bed sheets
and cradles a small shiver.
He inhales, holds the breath. Hands
calloused by supermarket boxes grip
the railing. Cord of blood and sweat
fused into life is taken into other,
more precise palms.
A hand on his shoulder whirls
him around - birth is burdened
into his arms. Black curls smell sweet.
He feels her hand envelope his as he
leans forward to kiss the wailing temple
turned an angry shade of red. She's
whisked away - to wash and dry.
A statue of bones -
becomes a colossal collapse.
I love you doesn't mean itMost people look at me not knowing what to thinkI love you doesn't mean it8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When they see the ring you gave me they only begin to see
The spell that has been put on me
You love has blinded me and shadowed all my pain
Keeping me safe in your arms is the best of things
That have happened in my life
Your the only thing that makes me happy
Your the only thing that makes feel safe
If you died, I would die to because you heart keeps me breathing
You know how I feel about you
But I don't think you do
I love you doesn't describe how I really feel
I can't find the words but all that I can say
Is that I love you more each and every day
So take my hand hold it tight and let me fall asleep
In you heart safe and warm... with no words could mean
AriadneAriadneAriadne8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pay attention: I have been yielded out of the earth in a white bag;
the body in it was not blue or light blue or grinning, it was a soup
of every old organ, every broad bit of skin; it has been reformed
to factor the universe; it has died in a number of extraordinary ways,
fanatical and hanging in Cyprus, rendering out young in Cyprus,
ruthless or tender Artemis in Cyprus; look how it has been made
to follow the same sad element, the same thin line of string that leads
constantly, mechanically out; I arrive now wholly congealed; my form
is a genuflection, an echo, the marble head of a tragic woman.
Pay attention: I am not myself; neither you nor I nor anyone
will be capable of legitimately piecing me together.
Listen: a white bull is in the streets of Crete; I have begun
to believe that he is also my father. When you come to rid the rest
of me, notice how I, too, in sleep, do not defend myself at all.
songs about slumbersongs about slumber7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
our city is a bed
a man tries to straighten the wrinkled
sheet of road gives up, sits down,
pans the street for change
the apartment building thrusts, phallic,
making love to an empty sky. a burst
of pigeons coo shut up shut up
a boy tries to fall asleep. his nightlight
is a myth that burns out once a day
the girl walks off her roof
our city is not a mattress
Haiku: Finding the Right WordsIt is hard to speakHaiku: Finding the Right Words6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
when seventeen syllables
is all you have left.
SacrificialThe secrets we have sharedSacrificial6 years ago in Other More Like This
the ones you refuse to bear
I will watch you
when you are so quiet
and you turn your head and you get
I will see you when you are so open
and vulnerable and all I want to do
is hold on tight
I will sit and try not to stare
while I see how much you change
and how quickly it comes.
I will have sat and crossed off the hours
at 5 minute intervals
avoided the time goes faster
My breathing will sharpen while I wait alone in the
But you came, quietly and then I realised
it was all going wrong for us.
You - "My Funeral Attended"I watched her walk in the room-her head down, eyes calm. When she lifted her head she caught my mother's eye. She slowly moved towards her, shaking hands. I could tell she wasn't satisfied with the casual shake when she held out her arms and embraced my mother.You - "My Funeral Attended"5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'I'm so sorry.' I heard.
My eyes shifted over to her boyfriend before going back over to her. She was dressed in a black skirt which hung down to her mid-thighs. A black spaghetti-strap shirt and a black cardigan clothed the upper part of her body. Heels made her stand taller than she normally looked.
When they finished talking I saw her wipe a few tears from her eyes and move away. She looked in my body's direction. Stepping forward she slowed down when she reached the front of the casket. Kneeling, she put her head in her hands and sniffed uncontrollably.
'Damn, it!' it was barely an audible sound-but I knew who she was cursing. Me.
Her hands shook as she attacked the tears that were now falling down he
If I were writtenIf I were written,If I were written10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
how would I taste?
I could be a dictionary
- bland -
yet a necessity.
It's possible I could have
the flavour of receipts,
spit me out,
get your money back –
it won't affect your
Perhaps I'd be
a top-shelf magazine –
an addictive tang kept as a treat.
Maybe you'd trace
as if I were the icing of a sonnet.
If I were written,
I wonder if you'd try me
WasteWaste9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Call me Anna, she says, hoping they'll get the vague reference, but they never do, mainly because it's too obtuse, and partly because nobody really reads Moby Dick these days.
But it matters not, nothing ever does. She wears her hair swept up and her mind swept away. There are the remains of a meal speckled upon her collar and down the front of her top, but people make sure not to comment. It wouldn't be right, but that's for later.
First, call her Anna. Heroines always had such exciting names, she mourned, drowning in jealousy that she instantly hated them all. She embraced the plain out of spite, and insisted that people called her by her boring middle name, started work as a librarian, and married a man who was the human embodiment of beige.
He didn't stand out anymore than she did. He wasn't tall and wasn't short, wore glasses in the least imposing way and sometimes spoke too quietly. He hated repeating himself, so told people to forget he said anything at all if they hadn't heard
The PastThe past is behindThe Past6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
But I still feel the ripples
Disrupting my flow.
goodbyeI realized something after the day he told me what was going to happen for the next year or so. When we drove to the airport, no one spoke. Not a word was said. A sound uttered. He wanted this. This was his purpose. And who was I to stand in the way? I didnt have the heart to do so.goodbye8 years ago in General More Like This
He got the letter in the mail a month before this. He was overjoyed. I not so much. He kept telling me that it was his chance to do something. To be somebody. And, God, seeing him happy and bright like that made my day. It just made me love him more. But after the shouts and smiles faded and as the deep, unavoidable meaning had set in, he had realized what this meant.
One night later, when it seemed like the world was asleep, I crept out of my bed and out to the balcony of our two story house. The stars glimmered like they did before. Perhaps optimistically trying to tell me everything would be alright. That it was only a year and that it would go by faster than I thought.
I was heartbroken at the fac
lonely girlsHonesty is overrated.lonely girls5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trust is painful.
Love is strong.
Happiness is worth it,
even if it's only 20 minutes in the back of my car.
There's a reason it feels like a dream.
My only regret is what could have been,
but at least I learned to
never trust girls in dry spells.
Losing Your VirginityMother makes buds out of cigarette buttsLosing Your Virginity8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
smashed into the clay dish,
though it may not have intended to be used this way,
given to her some countless Mothers days ago.
Daughter lies on her back ,
her tan legs like the orange filters that stuck out
at nasty angles from the mess of unkept ashes,
thinking about the hundreds of Sundays that went to waste,
(though she never intended to be used this way)
and how her mother never taught her she was only an animal.
Love LetterI'm sailing on a sea of red, kissing black holes and having conversations with coffee cups. Jotting notes with erasers on napkins and killing idealism with blanks. Lovers like us die slowly, drowning in committment. Stubble above a quivering lip lashing across the table aiming for a heart. But what is "dead" anyway? I'm being smothered by a self-replicating system, voice activated. Black nail polish caressing rotten teeth I'll grind this perfume bottle into your throat and leave you choking on pheromones. Kiss the heroin off my lips, lover. I need you like an amputation.Love Letter9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sex crazed maniacBillie and Mike walked into the living room to see three very wide grins. The sexiest one belonging to none other than mr. Tre Cool, the other two to two girls the boys didnt know...yet. They looked and Tre with confused, who are they, looks.Sex crazed maniac5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Billeh, Mike-boo, This is Emma and Natalya They will be staying with us in my room!"
"Shit" Billie mumbeled not wanting this to wind up in lawsuits from the girls.
"you two do know that you will be staying in the same room as a sex crazed maniac right?" Mike questioned the two girls nervously.
They girls eyes and grins grew wide and they nodded furiously.
"you may want to learn like karate or something." Billie replied.
Emma and Natalya looked hurt by the suggestion
"why would we wanna do that?" they asked in unison.
"well i think we should go to OUR room!" Tre squeeled excitedly, and with that they raced to their room were Mike and Billie beleived they would be staying in for a very long time.
and they were right.
Biology of the Staple RemoverBiology of the Staple Remover9 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Staple Remover (Connectiva Chompicus), while one of the smaller creatures in the office, still holds the reputation as a much feared predator in the ecosystem.
The most prominent characteristic of the Staple Remover is its four long fangs that give it an almost menacing smile. Non-venomous yet quite sharp, these fangs are capable of latching on to its favorite prey, the Staple, even when it is firmly rooted in its most secure habitat. Its deathgrip secure, the Staple Remover crushes the helpless Staple's defense and drags it out for a viciously rewarding meal. Although more often observed as a solitary animal, a pack of Staple Removers has been known to strip the metal from a conference presentation in less than a minute.
Once a year, the male Staple Remover instinctively returns to the office supply store where it was purchased to engage in a savage mating ritual: the capture and takedown of a Multi-use Color Copier. Many are lost