Red CarsRed Cars2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Throughout the years,
From the first race,
To the modern age.
Across the various championships,
On the grid.
A melee of cars that all do battle.
But always present every championship,
Red cars with prancing horse logos.
The oldest of the Formula One teams.
Surviving through the rough times,
Cheering through the good.
Where drivers go on to be legends,
Or fail and become just dust.
But it is the desire of every driver,
To be a driver of the Ferrari family.
And though many dream only a few make it.
And behind them is the roar of the Tifosi.
YesterdayYesterday I was innocent -Yesterday5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Knew nothing of the world.
Yesterday I had no clue,
No hint of the flag unfurled.
Yesterday affects today and
Today will affect tomorrow:
So yesterday affects the future,
And unknowingly causes sorrow.
Catch yesterday! 'Fly, faeries, fly!
Go out with hopeful hearts and minds,
To separate the pain
And free up all that binds.'
Did yesterday exist?
Can we prove it happened today?
Will you now deny it and move on,
Forgetting your yesterday?
Trying to Stand On My OwnThe bus travelled slowly through the rolling countryside, bumping over every rut in the little-used road and interrupting quiet conversations going on behind me. My shoulder bag bumped gently against my leg as we turned a corner and I moved it so it was on the seat next to me. The bus was virtually empty: not many people used this road so it was in disorder and made the journey difficult for big vehicles.Trying to Stand On My Own4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We grumbled to a stop outside a decrepit and beaten up old bus station, with no window panels and a timetable for a lifetime ago. There was a lone person standing in the freezing weather, covered by a thin sports jacket with the hood pulled up, providing some small protection from the whipping winds. I absently noticed that, although the weather was at the harshest it had been for days now, the jacket was open revealing a thin white shirt and a thickly muscled chest. I dismissed it and turned my attention back to the slowly fogging window and watched, entranced, as a single teardrop o
Wash One's Hands"I'm sick of this! Of everything!" I yelled, throwing another plate at the wall behind which my husband, Michael, was cowering. Everything had gotten to me: work, stress, pain, rejection. I could feel the heat of anger in my heart, which was throbbing heavily in my chest, along with my heaving breath. White heat was running through my veins, blocking out thought, streaming into my blood. I was losing my job, I was fighting with the one person I couldn't live without. I had all this pent-upanger inside me, wound tight like a jack-in-the-box, ready to spring out and damage something. The tension inside me kept winding me tighter and tighter, until every muscle in my body tensed and my lungs began screaming for air, though I was taking huge gasps of it...Wash One's Hands4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'ARGH!' I screamed, throwing yet another plate at the wall with enough force to leave a huge dent and smash the plate to a hundred pieces, scattering everywhere across the kitchen, one piece catching me across the legs and tearing my tro
A ChainA chain is rugged, restricting and strong.A Chain8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Held by those who are too scared to let go.
Long or short, its bond does not break.
The victims are stopped short of their desires.
Such selfishness and doubt, I could not imagine.
For I hold my heart, rather the chain.
It is scared and tough, but healed.
Distance plays no part, its bond does not break.
The privileged are left to their hopes and dreams.
Such caring and devotion, I strive to maintain.
Revolution NowExist.Revolution Now4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Start to Exist.
If only for This.
war, Amongst Thieves.
just. bury. my. flag.
makes no sense.
Start, as you will.
And make. an.
just as when.
the blood of Luther. King. fell.
As dinner is Served.
For the never Perturbed.
They'll Convict, the weak.
Unable to Speak.
So Start to Exist.
If only for This.
war, Amongst Thieves.
Out the Kind.
Egotists like Pins.
Bury My Flag.
Ineptitude, Is Calling!
A Revolution, Is Coming!
The Four Horsemen, Are Marching!
The Revolution, dawning. NOW!
Is it Murder?A knife hangingIs it Murder?5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the air above your head.
A gun pointing
At your back.
The ground beneath your feet.
A sword moving
Threateningly toward your heart.
What did you do?
Why are you here?
Does it matter?
I am behind you.
In front of you, beside you.
I am everywhere.
I can kill you.
You are trapped, no way out.
So many years, so many choices,
And the wrong choice changed it all.
It doesn't matter why I'm here.
It just matters that I am.
Doesn't matter what you say,
It's still murder.
You turn around and see me,
Your worst nightmare, standing there.
I grin wide and hold the knife high.
One stroke, a deathly caress and you die.
You, myself, are gone and faded.
I turn and walk away.
The new me.
Tu ultima carreraTu ultima carrera5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Si te dio mala espina desde el principio, ¿por qué corriste el Gran Premio?
Primero, tu protegido, el novato Rubens Barrichello, tuvo un accidente relativamente grave en los entrenamientos libres, quedando inconsciente pero con heridas menores; te pusiste tenso y tenías miedo. Y te planteaste no correr. Entonces, ¿por qué lo hiciste?
¿Y cuando el austriaco Roland Ratzenberger se estrelló en los entrenamientos calificativos, muriendo en el acto? Te pusiste aún más nervioso que antes y rompiste a llorar en el hombro del profesor Sidney Watkins, el experto neurólogo. Incluso, hasta te llegaste a plantear dejar la Fórmula 1. Pero aunque el profesor te ofreció olvidarte del Gran Premio, tú alegaste tener cosas sobre las que no tenemos control y añadiste que no podías rendirte.
Tras el accidente de Roland, tú y otros pilotos os propusisteis formar
Exquisite PainExquisite pain. You softly remember asExquisite Pain5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fortune's God observes from afar.
The magnificent laugh sparkles
In the sun. Like a droplet of glass,
It kills like jewels.
Stealing away the king's mind.
Remember the forgotten kiss.
Jewels sparkle like glass droplets,
Smashing to the floor.
The exquisite touch of a magnificent God.
But the king's eyes are lost, unable to observe,
As fortune's soft pain kills the laugh of tomorrow.
Over The EdgeOver The Edge3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
For a moment time stood still as the car hung in midair. Marni guessed it was too late to back out now, not that she wanted to. The ground was no longer beneath her; soon the car would realize it and plunge to the bottom of the ravine. It seemed like an eternity, but was really only seconds before the car responded to gravity and crashed into the rocks below. The world went black.
Gradually, Marni regained consciousness. To her dismay, although she was in a lot of pain, she wasn't dead. That wasn't how this was supposed to work. The crash was supposed to end it all, leaving her family, and insurance company, convinced she had died in a horrible accident. Apparently, it was true; she really couldn't do anything right. She'd screwed everything else up, whatever had made her believe she could pull this off?
Marni sighed, and figured she might as well assess her injuries. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy, a concussion maybe. Her chest hurt like hell, and it was hard to breathe, so she prob
The Propaganda Machinehere's how we lookThe Propaganda Machine3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
when a laugh is not enough.
here's how life bottles
when it's on the brink.
less and less of.
here's how we started
when the end was out of reach.
in the Disguise.
here's how the sun looked
when the sky washed away.
here's how tides work
when the moon falls.
here's how stars shine
when they're all just swept away.
in the Disguise.
and turbulent times
and walking away.
been walking away
all our lives.
Confess, the, Difference.
between a Promise and the Scars.
For the Stars.
for the stars.
Darling BelovedDarling Beloved,Darling Beloved5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate thee with a flame akin to love's passion.
Summer's dying breath blows away thy reek
I once found so sweet. Sweet!
Sweetheart, flowers have more sweetness in their buds
Than ten thousand hours in thy presence,
When I used to think thee godlike.
Just as autumn follows summer,
So the hate of thee follows the summer of thy love.
My dear, to look upon you is to blind my eye,
And as I am dearer to myself than yourself,
I must banish thee from my mind's eye,
So as to save myself injury.
Are you surprised at my address?
Are not my emotions obvious to see?
You may well wonder as I once did,
But, finding only pain, I abandoned my attempt.
I envision thee now, as confusion smooths your distorted face
And rejections calms thy frantic heart.
Take no comfort in this, I pray,
For as I hate thee, I love Nature.
The world around is a wondrous lover:
Attentive and fulfilling in every way you fail'd.
All I longed for was before me at once, and accessible.
Nature's name is so sweet
Empty FacesEmpty faces staring out intoEmpty Faces4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The world across the street:
It is a chasm they can never cross -
They sit and stare and weep.
Thinking of the lives they'll not have,
Wishing they could cross
The abyss that lies between them
And greener grass.
Empty faces staring out into
The eyes of those staring in.
Trapped behind their flowered doors,
Imprisoned in their grins.
Thinking of the freedom on
The other side of the bars:
Looking toward the sky and
Half-wishing on the stars.
Empty faces staring out into
Space, the freedom of it all:
The dreamers looking out, observe
The trapped faces in their halls.
Wishing that They could belong:
That someone in the endless run
Their lives mean something, somehow
In their toil beneath the sun.
Suicide Hotlinehands wet, face salt.Suicide Hotline3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Are we forgetting all?
fingers twitch, back stiff.
hope is only a dream.
And as a voice cracks,
stretching in anger,
electric poems hit back in tear drops.
As though the world,
would stand back.
had no fault, waning
and no hope, waiting
The heart is in remission
and You still wouldn't listen
on the edge of a rope
and one fall
watch the whole world
Agonized Radio SweetheartAgonized Radio Sweetheart3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Kurt Busch: Just how it typically gets every (expletive) week, every (expletive) week! (expletive) I hate my (expletive) job!
KB: What the (expletive) does he want?!
Nick Harrison (51 team crew chief): When you ran out of the pits, you almost ran some of them over. They're all wanting to whoop your (expletive).
Steve Barkdoll (51 team spotter): We've got to start in the back for pitting too soon.
KB: Is it one to go yet?!
SB: They want you to drop farther in the back.
KB: I AM (expletive) THERE!!! I'M (expletive) THERE!!! ALL THESE MOTHER (expletive) BEHIND ME ARE LAPS (expletive) DOWN!!! (expletive)!
SB: Alright man, cool down. Let's think and get some points down here, (expletive) it.
KB: (expletive)! (expletive)!