The Complete JourneyThe Complete Journey.The Complete Journey13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Drifting, drifting.. gone.
Sinking, slowly sinking down.
I wake, I am standing in a forrest, some sorry people are in the branches of the trees above me.
Where am I?
I walk on, come to a gate, a gate of black marble, with blood stained writing.
The writing is old, decayed, and over read.
I can't make it out.
Walking on I find a boat, guided by a lone soul.
I caugh and a coin comes out of my mouth.
The coin has a face, with horns on it, glimmers like blood in the moonlight.
The thought crosses my mind for a minute "Where Am I?", then is blown away like a seed in the wind.
The river man seems to be gesturing to the coin, I hand it to him and get into the boat.
We slowly navigate the river.
Bubbles coming up from the depths, pop, and eminate wild terrible screeches and screams.
I cover my ears and cower in fear.
One of my fellow passengers is dragged into the deep green water and is dragged under by hands.
His screams, muted, by a hand firmly clasped over his mouth.
The NightThe Night11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
deep slow moans
come from the roots
of the earth
and bend on themselves
fingers of the trees
in a sigh
they stretch out
like the hands of a beggar
to turn off
profondi lenti lamenti
provengono dalle radici
e si tendono
dita di alberi
in un sospiro
come le mani del mendicante
102834COLDSLEEP102834COLDSLEEP11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
perchance to dream.
time freezes shut of the heart-warming
of the folds of sunshine above the clouds
or angels and aeroplanes suspended in winter skies
by tensile-threads and vapour trails
in a fragile moment, these worlds held still
in the space between release of breath
i dream in silence,
like a king.
Soul Next DoorAll is quietSoul Next Door12 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
On this beautiful night.
All is dark
Except for one light.
A single light
Next door to me.
A single light
And one soul, not free.
Shadowed in the light.
Crying in the night.
Broken and caged.
Whose life is staged.
This soul will forever be.
It's never been free.
The soul looks up
And sees my gaze.
The soul looks up
For the first time in days.
This souls true self will always be.
Yet next door to me.
LookingLooking11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
LOOKING WHERE I DAREN'T, SEEING WHAT I MUST
At least everything had been cleared out of the room by then.
All the forensic equipment and the evidence markers and the yellow tape, all the police and the government agents and the reporters—oh, the reporters and the endless questions they'd asked about everything in the room.
The room was silent, now, a dead chamber full of books and curiosities, statuary and bricabrac. Full of things but completely devoid of sound, of movement, of life.
The lighting remained the same, the colours, the textures, the smells. The lamps still glowed, the soft blue light still diffused from the huge tank of water that dominated one wall. The windows still admitted muted sunlight, the kind you found in old bookstores and antique shops. A warmth remained there, but it was distant, the warmth of something that had sat in the sun and had only just been brought into darkness. The scent of old things, the scent of time and dust and books, of wisdom
AirbagAirbag13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
His eyes flinched, twitching
Like bats ears.
"Pick up your mother at 7, meet us at the restaurant."
The world seemed an unhappy place,
His placid tears set to fill the Nile in a few short hours,
A half charged cell-phone
On the seat like his blonde haired blue eyed thin framed
Darkness and obsession a prelude to a needle,
Exasperation, struggling respiration
And an elongated, low pitched sigh.
The slick roads washing like soap suds,
Dry as desert
But in the incapable hands of our main character,
They were as slippery as a bathroom floor
When he d r i f t e d
Into a lamppost,
Percussion cracked his skull like a sledge hammer,
Each bones fermata captured perfectly with a bass and snare,
Befitted perfectly with the occasional cymbal crash.
An airbag can only cushion your face for so long,
The Littlest PresidentThe Littlest President11 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
The Littlest President
At the age of eleven I was elected the 50th president of the United States of America. My analysts put my win down to youth (I was the youngest ever to run) and to the unfortunate late-October acne breakout of my incumbent rival, an eighth grader from Massachusetts. I have a stronger faith in the New Rules than do my analysts, who are always looking at polls and running them through sacred formula. I ascribe my presidency to the good sense of America, my hard work at Security School, and the stunning leadership of my handlers.
Once my presidency was officially announced, my face was given another coat of foundation and I was ushered up to a podium in front of a large crowd of my supporters. There was a crashing sea of applause. Most of my supporters were dumpy women in their thirties – just barely old enough to remember a time before we had the New Rules – these were my core demographic, although my handlers dutifully i
elephantasmaelephantasma11 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
this is forgetting:
moon-drenched ivory, and grey flesh
made hollow with lead.
AfterlifeAfterlife11 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A desert road.
A body lies on the road. SAM is sitting on it. It is his corpse. He gets up. Looks at the body, and looks at himself. He feels himself for fat. He goes stage LEFT. As he reaches the end, he stops. He then goes stage RIGHT. He stops. He looks out toward the audience. He goes upstage. He goes downstage. Finally, he glumly takes a seat on his body again and sighs heavily with his chin in both hands, elbows on his knees. He stares at the ground and takes no notice of his surroundings.
Enter CHARON, stage RIGHT. He is wearing simple brown robes and a walking staff. Middle-aged and balding. He drags his feet, hunched over and head down, like someone who has been on his feet for a long time. Noticing SAM, he straightens himself. He takes a scrol
On ParabolaOn Parabola10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With subatomic subtlety settling on his brow,
he said 'Time's a broken arrow
that points from then to now.'
Once a grain, I entreated him
to stop this flow of sand,
'You're immersed in the irreversible
until, entropical, I land.'
In that glass all is hours,
the busted bucket and the spade,
and each collapsing castle
that our spilt ice cream made.
Since his hands are tide
we can all be shore,
when the sediment slides
there is no more.
Sgt. DivineSgt. Divine11 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
A few of the men say this used to be a church, but it's hard to tell anything in this storm. We are pinned under a black and violent sky that has held us inside this crumbling room since we arrived yesterday morning. The water slides along the cracked ceiling and bombards us from different spots.
Captain tells us to keep our weapons dry, but he knows it's impossible. The floor clutches our boots with three inches of sucking wet mud. If the wind ever dies down we'll have a better look around this old place, but for now we just listen as it batters the trees into the stone.
None of us know how long we have to wait here. Captain says we are to protect this structure so our side can launch rockets from it if the war ever begins. Barnes says there isn't going to be a war. He says neither side is willing to start it; but here we are, drenched and freezing, just in case.
In the brief moments when the wind and rain pause we can hear the water trickling down through
What does the Nod emot mean?What does the Nod emot mean?11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A self-satisfied consequence of the bobbing motion
Occasionally in a patronizing manner
Nice to know it is on your side, or is it?
Not entirely reliable, since it nods at everything
Not absolutely trustworthy either
Permanent drone-like agreement
Eminently graceful sly and smooth movements
Captivating people to follow in unison
Something to do, when nothing to do
A smile creeping at the edges of its lips
What can wipe that smile off?
Hypnotic, happy, agreeable and green
Hypocrite, little, beady-eyed, lime
Peaceful motion, like the waves on an ocean
Or a buoy dipping in the heavy waters
Nodding its way through life
Agreeable to all who approach
A meditative way to make all one
Depiction can vary with every person
Either friend or foe
You can accept it or deny it
Could it be hiding a powerful demon?
What the hell are we talking about?
It is just some pixels moving about…
Yet, we're drawn to it, like bees to honey
leavingleaving11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I made him laugh, then tears came
I think I have seen them there before
I just cant place a certain time
It looked so wrong to see him cry.
He said my antics were so "like you"
He giggled at my full hands and my chatter
My bright voice, pushing happiness in sickness.
I wont put the burden of my worry on him
And then he cried. His shoulders shook, but there was no sound.
There were only the tears that I'm sure I dont know.
He is strong. He never cries...no.
So I'm sure that they're something new.
"I love you" he gasped
No air for talking and crying at one time.
"I'm sorry for breaking down baby."
"I haven't until just this moment"
He looked at me, with appology.
Isn't a Father superhuman?
I held on to my own tears.
A daughter should be too.
It isn't just the physical pain
Nor only not being able to breath
And it is scary to know you'll die.
But these things didn't bring tears....
His eyes met mine again.
His voice was only a whisper.
There was however hard determination in his face.
Metal Gear SolidMetal Gear Solid9 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
METAL GEAR SOLID
EXT. SKY OVER HIMALAYAS - TWILIGHT - NIGHT
A semi-futuristic transport plane streaks high over the
mountains at a very fast speed. We see it from many
angles, especially the decal on the tail that reads
FOX-HOUND with a fox holding a combat knife in its teeth.
Live in a Time 2 b Lost, FreeLive in a Time 2 b Lost, Free11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Time is lapsing irregularly
Time is breaking all the rules
Time to see all....
Lost in a world of strange places
Lost inside the language changes
Lost behind a grand facade...
Live in life, do not watch
Live for the experiences
Live to make changes....
Sweet ObsessionSweet Obsession10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My nights are filled with dreams of you,
holding hands as the sweet sun sets.
Heartbeats grow faster, but I slowly break,
these memories of you I will never be able to erase.
I weep from the inside out,
every teardrop counting every moment spent with you.
Nourishing them like a garden of roses,
as I long for you more and more with each passing day.
Never tell me it's just my imagination,
but your smile tells me that you're insecure.
You choke your pillow every night trying to hide the truth,
how much you need me too.
Just tell me that you're hurting,
and I'll find the strength within to save you.
I promise I'll keep you safe from the darkest of storms,
and cherish all your secrets deep within my soul.
My, my, my,
Fulfillment through DepravityFulfillment through Depravity11 years ago in Horror More Like This
They call me crazy. I beg to differ. I'm sentenced to die only for their lack of understanding. So, here I sit day after day in this cold, lonely, dark jail-cell. Fed once daily, I'm slowly thinning away, still filled with the lust of my chosen delicacy and the hatred that was bred upon me. I don't know how long I've been here or how long I'll stay. No windows to the outside world are present to accompany me, only one diminutive hole near the top of the door shining in a small beam of light through from the prison corridor. I've grown somewhat accustomed to this new lifestyle of mine however bleak it may be in comparison to the stirring existence of my past.
I was born on August 13, 1974, putting me now at slightly over fifty years old. My mother unfortunately died during labor, leaving my single father to raise me alone. My unstable father was traumatized b
The SiegeThe first mile is always the easiest.The Siege4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
—Kyle Lynn to me, circa 2006
Tell that to the ghosts,
men soaked in sand and blood spray,
storming the shores of Normandy.
First Infantry's sprint through coastal
trenches, up bluffs, under ruptured drays.
Tell that to the ghosts
huddled in half-channeled holes,
a captain's dash through shrapnel, gray
storm on the shores of Normandy.
A German boy adrift in the compost
of his legs, his elbows' grand flail.
Tell that to the ghosts
ripped in four by mortars posted
over Omaha. Dawn's evenly keeled decay
storming the shores of Normandy.
How quickly the lung forgets to oust
its breath. Be wary of the sea's affray.
Tell that to the ghosts
storming the shores of Normandy.
Scrisoare catre Alex IIAlex, îţi scriu din nou, deşi m-ai rugat să nu o fac. Mi-ai spus că ai treabă. Ţi-ai întins regretele prin toată casa şi ai început să le numeri. Când ai ajuns la 14 te-am întrebat dacă ai încercat vreodată să trăieşti fără să clipeşti. Te-ai enervat pentru că ai pierdut numărătoarea din cauza mea. Nu mi-ai răspuns. Ai luat-o de la capăt. Şi aş fi vrut să te întreb ce rost are să-ţi numeri regretele, dar deja ajunsesei la 62 şi mi-era teamă că iar te voi încurca. Aşa că te întreb acum. Ce rost are? Tot atâtea or să fie, oricâte pături, oricâte preşuri sau oricâte cărţi ai pune peste ele. Şi oricâţi de saci de gunoi ai umple.Scrisoare catre Alex II5 years ago in Letters More Like This
Şi Alex, de ce iubim atât de mult cerul? De ce ne alegem stele, le dăm nume ş
asea, tonightasea, tonight11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm at your door; can hear the brass and bass,
the snare drum, through the glass. It's jazz, tonight.
You let me in and suddenly I'm in
a room of profound poets, who sing their verse
through shining horns, sweet saxophone riffs.
The solos drift so richly, dance among smoke rings—
tonight, when everyone's somebody's cool cat.
There's a girl whose trumpet weeps when she woos its keys,
those wailing notes like Miles would have played.
And the long-haired bassist pains his face as he plucks
away at the tired shape the body makes,
he sways. And when the guitar's clean strings do sing,
it's melody carries a twang so sweet—it's jazz,
tonight. Tonight!— We can be alive, tonight.
And I'm in the corner, no horn in hand, not even
a cigarette for now. I'm just a shadow this evening,
no harmony for me. Just silent taps
of thumbs on thighs; of a breath before sirens sing.
Tonight, blue tunes knew the way through a smoky
sea—found me… Last I heard they were still awaiting
OverloadOverloadOverload11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
By Kaycee Ronin
This's probably the longest one shot I've ever written, but I must say I'm proud of it. Be prepared for full and unbridled angst ahead. I really love tormenting Jak. ^^ And on that note, Jak, Daxter, Torn, Vin, Kor, and all other characters of Jak II: Renegade belong to Sony and Naughty Dog. I wish I owned them, but I'm just a poor college student who gets a kick out of taking her frustrations out on fictional game characters.
* * * * * * *
The rounded object sitting on the table had a slight shine to it, awkward in it's shape, and even stranger in function. Daxter had hopped from his usual spot to the table to peer at it more closely. The metallic object was almost as big as the fuzzy ottsel studying it. "This...is Vin's new invention?" The blond haired elf standing on one side of the table peered at the odd contraption from over his furry friend's head.
Across from him, the taller elf, Torn folded his arms. "It's a bomb designed t