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FishFishFish3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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Oh, my lovely fish
It gives me great joy to see you swimming
When I go on holidays I miss you and hope you are well
At night it gives me happiness to feed you and watch you
Every day you swim with your friend Silvie
Sometimes at night I like to listen to the sound of your pump
No other fish of mine has lived so long so that must be a sign that you love me
Even if you die tomorrow I will always remember you
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay4 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!”
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It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of ima
16. Love16. Love4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"...let's grow old together," he said, nuzzling her neck. She laughed and curled her orange-tipped fingers into his palm. "Only if we still have ice cream."
Mama?Mama?Mama?4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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It was going to be a bad winter. Marquis could feel it in his hands, they’d never quite recovered, and tell by the way the blood was struggling to pump through them as the days got darker and shorter. He wasn’t old by a long-shot – Thirty next year, still good! – but he completely sympathised when the old stable hands began their groaning. Powder white snow turned grey as he sludged through it, soot from his boots leaving a trail behind him as he fought his way to the main hall. All around him horses were being saddled and loaded up and men in uniform milled re
Gingerbread HouseThey were sitting silently on the counter, awaiting duty; 3/4 teaspoon of baking soda, 3 1/4 cups of flour, and 2 teaspoons of ground ginger.Gingerbread House5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She mixed them delicately, grinning to herself. The kitchen was her kingdom; where she resided and did whatever the hell she wanted. And, most of the time, she just wanted to cook. Her flour powdered hands rubbed quickly over her stark white apron as she hummed a nice little tune. Winter sunlight streamed in from the small window above the sink, but she could barely remember that it was February. The rip-off calendar next to the spice cabinet was five years old.
Her smile curled higher as she whipped
EvieEvieEvie5 years ago in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
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Around you the log cabin is cosy. It’s one of those picturesque little places in the mountains and, as always happens here in winter, it’s snowing hard. You’re sitting in front of a roaring fireplace with your back against the sofa (Though isn’t it an odd through; a fireplace in a log cabin?). The rug beneath you is thick and your bare toes could grip at it were you inclined to try. A mug sits beside you on the floor, still steaming from the pot. The light is dim, your mates have crashed for the night and get real anal if you leave the lights on while they
Mind VomitI pixelate IcarusMind Vomit5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to forfeit my counterproductivity.
Who needs rose tinted glasses
when you have
glazed eyes enamelled sighs
and sugarcoated insomnia.
I long for movie tomorrows
instead of these
xylophonic beclazone dreams.
I want to saturate the grey matter
into technicolour
without a hint of remorse.
I want to play the undersleeper,
pinning back my eyelids with
the idiolect of those I'd like to know better.
Do you want to hear my mind vomit or should I
just turn the page and start again...?
AnniversaryAnniversaryAnniversary3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Their meetings were always hurried, full of touches that were just a little too hard and kisses that involved too much tooth. Neither complained, there was no time for them to argue now. No time for prolonged, wordless struggles as to who was on top, no time to tease. It just happened.
It was only in the afterglow, the bittersweet sweat and laboured breaths, that they talked. Quiet murmurs accompanied by lips on skin, a squeeze of the hand on a hip.
"I haven't got long." Jaye would say, his once perfectly straightened and styled blond hair now a m
SolsticeSolsticeSolstice3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Medici castle was on a scale that was rarely built on these days. Three hours ride out of Argonia at a gallop, it sat atop a cliff set just in from the sea, proudly overlooking the de'Medici's traditional holdings to Argonia's west. The land had been in the family for generations, and their line could be traced back even further than that. They were a force in politics, a well-worn family name that would come to Argonia's aid when asked and their constant grip on land so close to the city proved that.
However, it hardly made the place more welcoming in the winter
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of “’Hello, Good Morning!’ with Buster” through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn ‘til noon. Outside of Buster’s Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelHot Hotter Hot Hottest Intro4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Midnight SnacksI hope that my leaving is just a minor hurtMidnight Snacks4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yet knowing that worse leads to worse
And how fretting multiplies, but starts inert
I will remind you of what we have with verse
Our love is like an ice box that sits bold
In the corner of a kitchen, dormant and hushed
A warm lifeline feeding and keeping the insides cold
Even as it works at its own pace, never rushed
The best goodbye would be in the box’s back
Taken only when loneliness paints the dark skies
Then, it would be drawn from the very last rack
Like a pint of rocky road in “Comfort Me” size
So I say, with love entwined in lines and feet
Despite the curving
SelfishSelfishSelfish4 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
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It was a hurried, messy meeting. Over a month had passed and while neither of them particularly liked the risk involved, what was meant to be a quick report had rapidly turned into a fully blown make out session. Mattie, tall, dark and still clad in his three-day-worn military colours had made short work of shoving all of Marquis’ neatly stacked paperwork onto the floor, pressing the smaller man down onto the varnished wood instead. Marquis would have protested were he not so occupied by the tongue down his throat and Mattie’s heavy hands tugging at his hair. He’d
Four over Five - KiribanFour over FiveFour over Five - Kiriban5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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Whoever’s idea it was to host a bar in the beached hull of a long-forgotten mariner should be labelled a genius. The black sea sloshed sleepily outside, blanketed by a sky loose-knit enough for the stars to peek through. I’m romanticising it all; grungy high-rises pushed the beach back day by day, sand was doped up on forgotten syringes and Heaven lay like some beached whale against the moon.
Heaven. Stupid name for a bar, really. I’d lost track of how many drunkards had shambled in hollering for entertainment, having mistaken the buzzing neon sign outsi
Re: sound of raintiptap on tin roofsRe: sound of rain5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
as the world cries a message
that we fail to hear
To be a Guitar+istLike from afar, the guitar mumblesTo be a Guitar+ist5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The buzzing crowd then heaves and fumbles
The leering ceiling shudders--
My sight blurs with sweat as I make the strings purr
Love is such a lazy note
Nevermind if alluring fingers always find--
They strut and dumbly dote along
The wanton path paved down my spine
The melody's beat swirls 'round my fingertips
The mellow bass suddenly invades my veins and I'm speechless
Metal cords smile into my skin-- make my back stiff
She smiles and sways while she's falling off her feet
Love goads me to play
Crackling lightning inside of me is all I can take--
The old hollow in me is missing today
My filtere
SleepSleepSleep5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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Oh gods above, what had he done? The memories were fuzzy and vague, although there was no reason for them to be. He’d walked for hours, he remembered that part, though it had felt as though he had hovered above his own tired, charred body. Charred? A fire, he guessed, that he’d somehow been caught up in. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath his cheek as he lay there, mind and body numb with confusion and the clench of guilt. Guilt, he realised now, sat where he’d always thought love would, just below the ribs; a solid pressure pushing to meet his spi
Senryu 12: BruisesGrinning at the blueSenryu 12: Bruises5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I loose my ankles, wrists
Next time, not so tight?
Senryu 2: LollipopsA cherry yellowSenryu 2: Lollipops5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
That wets the palette-children
Artificially
Shishosetsu IIShishosetsu IIShishosetsu II5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
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Yes, there’s a number two. Believe it or not, I found more things about myself to talk about. I don’t know whether it’s modesty or just honesty that drives me to say I’m not a very interesting person but, given the chance to, I always see something to give an opinion on. I guess I should keep a blog or a diary. Well, perhaps a diary. There’s no point in a blog if people don’t read it – that’s what it’s there for, right? – and I learnt through several years of blogging that no-one was really interested in what I had to say
41. Nature's Fury41. Nature's Fury5 years ago in Horror More Like This
Petunias were his wife’s favourite. She always said she liked the colour, and how they arranged themselves. But he couldn’t find petunias at the flower sale, so he’d gotten an iris. The little streaks would bring out the flowers of the tree it would sit near. Kind of, at any rate. He wasn’t buying it to match. But that was alright. The sales lady had been really sweet about helping him. Found a decent soil too, one that replenished the nutrients in his current soil. It wasn’t his fault it was being sucked dry by the greedy little plants. What was he supposed to do, uproot them? It wasn’t that simple.
The check o
Emm AyeEmm Aye5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He could still hear her and even then, it made him feel like he was special. Her voice never boomed like the gruff, masculine voices he heard around the office. Neither did it purr or shriek or grate like some of the other women he'd heard. It just… smoothly rolled from a valley of painted lips and a clever tongue. She would always talk to him, but she'd changed. He'd changed. He didn't listen to her anymore, but he still wanted to hear her.
Oh how comforting it would have been for that woman to be sitting right next to him, warming the cold space left by his empty apartment. But then again, he didn't want her there either. She would mo
30 Minutes30 Minutes30 Minutes5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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30 minutes.
Used to seem like such a long time. She remembered back when she was a child it had seemed like an eternity; to go to a friend’s house was one of the best treats you could be allowed. It had changed so much since then though. They changed, relationships changed and the time, surely that too had changed and decided, as if on a whim, that it wanted to speed up. Right now, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to slow down or speed up. In 30 minutes her brother would die. 30 minutes of waiting for the sound of gunshots below. 30 minutes of wrangling with her
Cold BloodCold BloodCold Blood5 years ago in General More Like This
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There were rare moments when, for some strange reason, Virgil wished that he was actually liked by the crew. Not because he wanted to associate with them, hell no, so don’t get that idea into your head. It would be for practical reasons, such as leading a mutiny and taking over the Vigilante himself because, right now, taking a knife to Lamont was sounding like a very nice idea. Virgil had issues standing him the majority of the time but, really, a man could only take so much.
No, no it’s not what you’re thinking. Lamont had actually paid them early this time
Fire Emblem Part 3Fire Emblem Part 32 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Sam... Sam are you ok? The battle's over, we won." I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. Lethe was sitting in a chair next to me.
"What happened?" I pushed my hair back out of my face and felt something furry on my head. "What the…" I ran my hands over the side of my face and my ears were gone, I freaked out and jumped out of bed, looking behind me I saw a purple tail and screamed. "OH MY GOD!!" My hair fell in front of my face again and I saw that it was purple as well, but it still had some of my old black hair left in it. "I'm a…a…"
"Laguz." Lethe finished for me. She was smiling, but her face had gone white from the shock.
Sta.sh
