endless endingswellendless endings7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the spark took a twist
scissor-spit from her lips
a subtle shift and infinite
is simply split into bits
you're spinning sick
sinking quick and unmissed
every cheap trick unveiled
now scratched from your list
but that itch
it still persists
perching there on your wrist
sits downsleeve from your heart
or what's left of it
and what's this?
love's laid to rest
without a proper obit
transmit to your wits
that demands you submit
is a doubt
the charred remains
of a fire once lit
a noiseand they're clamoring for contenta noise2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but the concepts aren't
the kind (that kind)
Press Conference“Okay, everyone please? We have a lot of ground to cover today. Let’s get started…”Press Conference2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The CNN reporter in the first row raised her hand, asked a question without waiting to be recognized. “Will the President be speaking today?”
“No, Anna,” the White House Press Secretary answered absently, shuffling through note cards. “He is currently in the West Wing, spending his remaining time with loved ones.”
This quiet announcement caused a stir in the press corps. An awkward silence punctuated by frantic typing on keyboards and rustling notepads. After a moment, hands shot up in the air with shouts to be recognized.
CNN: “What do you mean, ‘remaining time’?”
AP: “Is the President all right?”
FOX: “Does Michelle Obama know about the President’s secret West Wing lover?”
“Please! Let’s have order!” The WHPS adjusted his glasses to peer at the crowd. “We don
Jesus Christ, you have mail.Jesus Christ sighed as he waited for Windows to boot, dreading what he'd see.Jesus Christ, you have mail.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was always worse than he expected, which on the surface seemed impossible... but he'd learned long ago questioning how his father worked merely rewarded him with blinding migraines. Mysterious ways, and all that.
Eventually Windows was up, and he clicked the Outlook icon. Drummed his fingers waiting for--
"Oh, geez..." he muttered. There were 240,970 new emails. Since yesterday. He wanted to cry. Oh well, nothing to do but get on with it.
The first one was spam, as was the second. And the third. Jesus had considered using junk-mail filters but hadn't found one yet that could tell the difference between spam and some of the prayers he received.
Fourth one was from a child in Zambia, whose mother was sick. Not a lot of details, but clearly the tot was seriously distressed... and everything seemed legit. He nodded once, fowarding it to Dad.
Next three were spams.
Number eight was from a gambler in Las Vegas.
disposable assetsI've been writing poemsdisposable assets7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
none of which are about you
(except for this one)
Life Beyond the Living -Ch 1-A story about a boy's journey to knowledge and self-discovery. The questions Riordan left about his little Nico di Angelo will perhaps be answered.Life Beyond the Living -Ch 1-3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Go Away!” He yelled. “I hate you! I wish you were dead!”
The ground didn’t swallow me up, but Nico ran down the steps, headed towards the woods. I tried to follow, but I slipped and fell to the icy steps. When I got up, I noticed what I slipped on.
I picked up the god statue Bianca had retrieved from the junkyard for Nico. The only statue he didn’t have, she’d said. A last gift from his sister.
I stared at it with dread, because I now understand why it looked so familiar. I’d seen it before.
It was a statue of Hades, Lord of the Dead.
-Rick Riordan “The Titan’s Curse.”
He ran as if he had death at his heels. His breath was released in tiny puff
Perspective 9Perspective 97 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Obsessed with pure hearts and heroism,
the romantic idealist falls.
My Beautiful One.
I should of sacrificed everything for the sake of a romantic love divine.
My Beautiful One.
Endless tears fill the Ocean of my heart..
My Beautiful One, whom I let slip from my grasp.
I let you go for the sake of shame selfish.
Struggling to correct that horrid wrong which befell us at the zenith of bliss.
To no avail.
Murdering that wondrous beauty of absolute purity defined..
That union of two halves of the same soul, ancient.
Searching the corridors of eternity for one another,
until fate cast forth that shining, destined,
moment in this life, in this sphere of existence.
Finally reuniting us.
And with the morning sun,
the light of God came every day.
In but a few short months, bliss.
All that is true and right,
an entire lifetime together,
Never to be forgotten.
A lifetime of blinding purity,
dancing with a splendor,
brighter than all stars combined.
And I would steal them all,
Un PoemeUn Poeme4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A face poem
A poem face
Poem a face
Face a poem
GoodbyeHe started roaming farther and farther afield, failed to come when called.Goodbye2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Stopped chasing rabbits, wasn't really interested in playing fetch or chase. When he did return home, sometimes after days of being absent, Randall just lay lethargically at my feet. I got the impression he was forgetting who I was.
Then one day he trotted off into the morning sunlight, and didn't return at all.
My dad tried to console me. "Sometimes, old robots do that."
thank you doseand in this one odd instantthank you dose6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am proud of us
parading our own quiet existence
the persistent tribal drums
and giddy fanfare
placing the next proudly
proclaiming its features
for the shape
to make itself
in the paper
those fragile moments
to bathe in color
and there are parts
of me I've only
there is a personal
there is something
of desperate beauty
trying to claw
about recorded moments
only of insignificance
hint 87every day,hint 876 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
go home and convince yourself
that you've never met a woman.
if it helps,
dig a hole in your yard
and fill it with your head.
if you do not have a yard
in which to dig,
from a family member
or sympathetic friend.
if you do not have a head
with which to fill your hole,
all the better for it.
all insometimes you fill my headall in2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so (full) I can
feel you there
the progress of a constant
a dream made tangible
Tainting the shareGrey.Tainting the share7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the pavement,
hold that thought.
punctuating the skyline...
its colder now.
of trails once tamed
Chase up those
and, where we once ran,
eskimo movies at the...oh, I see.eskimo movies at the...7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she wants a steady hand, and smooth script
stretching towards infinity.
she wants those wanton words
wrapped in needless syllables.
she wants what she wants. what she wants
is not this.
not my short & stumbling text; one word
tumbling towards the next. not these
scribbled, sloppy secrets; chopped up
and half-confessed. she'd much rather view
a ten-cent vocabulary flexed...
but I digress.
mostly, it talks about me.
sometimes, it says "hey!
we're doing new & exciting things
sometimes, it just
and screams -
'til someone comes
(busted & beautiful)
it exclaims & explains.
watch a monkey build a watchfor the betterwatch a monkey build a watch5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was made this way
dropped different & drifting
some distance from divine
a tool gifted with the
breath to blame
what nature has nurtured
I can't figure out
the life of me for
the life of me
or at least no
(with no conception)
of immaculate design
of the miraculous
the impetus of this
all I'm getting
we're all given
saint valentine and friendsit's not romantic;saint valentine and friends7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
it's an obligatory
valentine's day poem.
Bismarck by riveramericaBismarck by river6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Silent Retreat.I went to that place again,The Silent Retreat.8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
the night before.
A place of spheres.
Metallic and black.
A place of the ones before.
A place of bloody silver,
of golden pain.
A place where I am shown the beasts,
from which I am made.
A silent place.
A forgotten place.
Where only the most gentle of winds whisper to my soul,
of an ancient splendor forgotten.
Where I am home.
requiem for a resurrectionwatchrequiem for a resurrection7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where you lay your
keep that sharkjaw grin in check
I'm counting teeth
and I believe
in skindeep songs
building damaged stars
and heart-shaped scar
I said watch
where you lay
'cuz I remark to emptiness
and I explain
shaping words like holes
to make a home
inside your chest so
(make room for nothing)
where you lay
Shattering Madara- HashiMadaMadara heaved an aggravated sigh, cursing the man in front of him. It was his father, of course, but that was of little consequence. It only meant he had to keep his mouth shut while he fumed silently about what was being said.Shattering Madara- HashiMada7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
But hed be damned if he wasnt pissed off at the old man just then.
He was tired...so tired. Hed been fighting for at least half a month straight, and all the rest hed had for that time was a more than derisory two hours a day. It was brutally draining on his body, and every muscle in him demanded sleep, craving of life-giving slumber. Hed collapse where he stood if he wasnt so determined to listen to the bastard who spoke to him now.
Weve received word that the Senju are moving again, Madara. You know what you have to do.
Oh, this was just fucking PERFECT. A fight with the Senju meant another five days of rest denied him. He was in no condition to fight. But, as the strongest of the clan, he had no choice. He
Tell the lady what she's wonSome would contend, it's not theTell the lady what she's won10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
gaping chest wound that's killing me,
but my belief that it will get better
all by itself.
I bet you never tire of being right.
Snow White and the 1026 DwarfsSnow White woke up in the strangest little bed!Snow White and the 1026 Dwarfs3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She'd happened upon the small, cozy house deep in the woods, found nobody at home, and promptly crashed in the first bed she'd spotted. Sleep claimed her then, dragging her away to a place of relative peace and calm... carefully letting her ignore how tiny all the furnishings were, how oddly low were the ceilings and fixtures.
And now, the next morning! What odd little men surrounded her! Normally she'd be alarmed by close proximity to so many strangers, but the events of the past day had granted her an oddly calm outlook on life. Nothing much rattled her anymore.
Snow White blinked sleepily, yawned, and stretched. The men watched her every movement, transfixed.
"Do you talk?" She asked experimentally.
One older man -- tiny, rotund, and wiser than the rest with a long white beard -- glanced around at the others and nodded. He adjusted his spectacles and stepped
211It's not poetry, mind you.2112 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's just words without a home.
ForesightDebra Mae was an astonishingly good programmer.Foresight2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her code always worked correctly the first time, and she never missed a deadline. Her workspace was immaculate, but curiously devoid of personal effects. No framed pictures, no toys, just her small collection of pens lined up according to color and an inbox for the occasional old-school paper input.
Her computer was equally immaculate. Nothing extra on her desktop, no stray icons. If one peeked at her browser history there’d be nothing there but work-related google searches and company stuff.
She dressed neatly but very plainly. I suspected she had four dresses in her wardrobe and rotated them daily. On casual Fridays she wore jeans and a plain white top, unlike her shaggy coworkers who went in for clever t-shirts or flannel.
Her space was so depersonalized that visiting salespeople often mistook her desk as vacant, setting up shop for the day. The first time that happened Debra Mae simply drifted to an absent co-worker