Rest In PeaceRest In PeaceRest In Peace4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By Stephen Funk
I look at the pictures.
the people that I once knew.
So many have died,
so many have left us behind.
We only can wait for our turn in line,
and enjoy what little time we have left.
I miss talking to them,
I miss hearing the important and trivial things.
The loss of friends is a tragic thing,
so love them like it's your last day,
cherish them like it's their last moments.
Blessed are those who cherish friendship,
and may they forever live in happiness.
Never forget them,
as they will never forget you.
RMS Carpathia - JosephineRMS Carpathia - Josephine2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Not tonight josephine.
in an army's strength therein
lies the denouement.
From here you're haunting me.
By the Seine so beautiful, only
not to be of use-- impossible.
So strange, victory- 1200 spires
the only sound, moscow burning.
empty like the Tuileries.
Like a dream Vienna seems,
only not to be of use- impossible.
In the last extremity -- to
advance or not to advance- I
hear you laughing
Even still you're calling me
"Not tonight, not tonight not tonight" Josephine
where the sidewalk endsDo you know where the sidewalk ends?where the sidewalk ends2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Where reality stops and the dreams begin?
It all becomes a little hazy when--
--you're living like tomorrow won't come again,
Is today the day?
Who can really say,
You'll only know,
It's the end of the road,
When you find yourself standing where the sidewalk ends.
Willow WeepingBow your long limbs to me.Willow Weeping6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bow to me your long limbs,
tuck me cleanly to your bosom.
Hold me with those long spidery limbs.
Weep for me your thin dewy leaves.
Weep your thin dewy leaves for me,
so they dance in the net of the smooth sea breeze.
Swirl around in a flourish of green stars.
Be the willow with your long thin limbs.
Be, with your long thin limbs, the willow
that cries in solitude the crisped green leaves.
And weeping, holds me to the bosom of your bowed form.
For AceI was there for your birthFor Ace3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And saw your triangle flaps for ears
A curious pup with razor-sharp teeth.
Branded with a white A on your chest;
Proudly standing out from your brothers and sisters.
But that is not why I loved you.
I saw you grow
Into a beautiful beast
With long strong legs
A keen nose and sense of loyalty
There was no bird that could escape your sights.
But that is not why I loved you.
We'd play hide the snack
And you would always win;
Ghost with the garden sheets
And even thought we could run the iditarod...
Even if it was just a plastic sled and me throwing dog bones...
But that is not why I loved you.
My seeing of you grew shorter
Like with every student off to learn
Though even with every seldom return
You would always remember
Who I was and happy I was back.
But that is not why I loved you.
I saw your fur become gray wires
Your skin weathered and scars from battles
And even through the hardship of age
You would always have time to wag your tail
When visiting your long
Soundsmith A2S10"No. No no NO!"Soundsmith A2S104 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ser Dain's sword scanned the surroundings, shimmering from the cool wet glisten of rain and streetlamp glow.
The manic soldier staggered around, punch-drunk from the adrenaline, raising panic in the following boys. He dug through the empty vender booths, screaming for his protégé to respond.
"No! Why! Father help me!"
"Ser!" Gerro barked, "What just happened?"
"Shadow SHADOW!" Ser Dain screamed as he flipped a destroyed booth.
Tears began running down Ser Dain's cheeks. He bared his teeth and roared as he ran into the alleyway with his sword high in the air. The boys huddled together fearful of what might happen next, or who would be next to vanish into thin air.
"Give him back! He is mine! MINE!" Ser Dain swung away at the darkness. "MIIINE!" He billowed.
Ser Dain stopped a brief moment. He dug his hand into his chestplate and pulled out a small, coin-like token that was tied around his neck by a bit of string. He because to pray. "Father. Tak
BelieveBelieve me when I say I'm sorry.Believe4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sorry for those cold, dark stones in my heart
Who cool my passion
And are the foundation of my plight.
Believe me when I say I love you.
For even those silly words
Can represent a massive monument
Of moving emotions.
Believe me when I ask you to kill me.
Flip the final page of my novel
And cut the length of my rope
Which frays at the tip.
Believe me when I tell you to run.
Run from my broken bloodied body
Through the unknown darkness
Stumbling and scraping your knees on concrete.
Believe me this time.
Believe me like you have never before.
Because this is the last time
You can believe in me.
SS: A2S7.5 - Ode To ArtThrum Thrum, "T'was loomy beneath the fallows grove," Thrum thrumSS: A2S7.5 - Ode To Art4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"'Er lonesome ones on carriage drove," Thrum Thrum
"Had another, and another, me lad,"
"Ye reap the wenches, and slay the stag."
Song filled the narrow leaf ridden path in the looming forest road. The rusty wheels spun in unison, creaking along with the orchestra bedded on the back of the carriage. Bright and dashing, blues, reds, and beautiful calligraphy- "Sprata's Minstrel."
The flatbedded wagon, pulled by the finest birds in all of the Uplands, passed the Millbrowo and Shady Shire. New sights for the natives, attracting the farmers, razers and ranchers. Passed post of watches, soldier's stool, and barracks abroad. Bards from afar, sharing their art, making due.
Thrum bada thrum bada bada!
"One fer one, two at arms,"
"Spit and piss and tear the garms',"
Thrum bada thrum thrum bada
"Fight for land, kill for kin,"
"Feast on royals,
'as to 'ere is sin."
A colorful culture of creature
Soundsmith A2S5The mid-afternoon sun began its decent behind the western horizon creating a smoky-gold haze. The party has trudged through the mud of the flood-plain for nearly two hours before making it to the highway. The pounded out road was fairly quiet today, only sporting a few traveling merchants and horseback travelers. The boys had to take a breather, their boots caked with a thick layer of mud which they had to remove with sticks and reeds. Ser Dain let them rest for a while, pulling out his waterskin for a quick drink as he sat on his pack.Soundsmith A2S54 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Gerro collapsed onto the dusty road and rolled over to stare at the sky. There were hardly any clouds, and he was still captivated by how big the sky seemed outside of the jungle. Beautiful Gerro thought, his eyes smiling as wide has his lips. Ser Dain leaned over Gerro and smirked. He held his waterskin over the boy and yelled, "Flash flood!" as he poured water onto Gerro's head. Gerro was taken completely off guard, gasped and leaped to his fee
Question MeQuestion meQuestion Me4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I have no answer.
The slightly stale statements
Surrounding circumference of ideas,
Thoughts and burdens.
Clogging the flow
As a wrench in gears,
Jogging the abrupt
Nostalgic feelings of the past.
Why you say?
Cry you say.
Weep and billow your woes
As your fingers and toes
Clench and whiten.
Furious adrenaline soaked blood
Mud, sweat and tears.
Fearing the room,
Not of its contents,
But of the lack of doors.
What is the use, you say?
Fighting a battle
With rocks and stick,
Of words and black magicks.
A brother to feel
Better about yourself.
Is that truly
A better feeling?
Wheeling and spinning
I have no answers for you.
For your question
Has no answers.
Only more questions.
Soundsmith A2S3Inside the tavern was dank; rank with a mildew aroma. The floors were a hard wood, covered with the muck of the fishermen's grimy boots, molding and reeking of fish and mud and blood. Most of the boys breathed it in welcomingly, reminded them of their fathers' daily stench. The shakings boy's nostrils flared and he swallowed down the gag in his throat. His nostalgia was more of sweet reeds and rice patties of his mother's garden. "Breathe it in, Noodles." Gerro spoke quietly out of earshot of Ser Dain. "This is what real men smell like."Soundsmith A2S34 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
"I'm sure." The shaking boy's skepticism tilted the smirk on his face.
There were a few tables scattered about, some occupied with men who leaned over their glasses sullenly. Other tables had boys, around the same age as the party, who hooted and laughed away their lessons of their school day. The walls were mossy, decorated with the trophies of game from the wilderness. One head in particular was the biggest worg Gerro had ever seen and he made it his
The Soundsmith - A2S1The Soundsmith - ACT 2: MotherThe Soundsmith - A2S14 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
This is a story of the boy who shakes.
The village was quaint, old fashioned, mostly wooden and molded with mud and clay. It sat atop rock pillars above a calm, slow moving river, providing the villagers with walkways and rope bridges. The boy lay in his bed. The morning was just rising over the eastern hills and he was not yet ready to rise with the sun. His chest shook with every breath as the light from his window slowly skimmed across his face. He sighed, which was more like involuntary pants as he sat up and kicked off his blanket. He stretched out, his limbs subtly twitching. He got up, got dressed for studies and greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek. She was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, hovering over a fire stove and busily cooking her son a hot meal. She was proud of her boy, even with his minor tremors he was one of the tops of his class. She was, however, disappointed that he could not handle a sword and would have to remain
Soundsmith 15Meanwhile in the forest.Soundsmith 154 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Gavon's head ached. Feeling more than just concussed, his vision blurred with tremors. It was dark, cold, and the ground was rock. Attempting to lift himself, his hands shook and his breath was short. He blinked hard, trying his best to focus on what little light there was. It seemed to be a cave of sorts. Water dripped from the hanging stalactites and echoed their decent with each plop. Still alive, Gavon thought. Curse the gods, I am still alive.
"BE STILL FRIEND!" a booming voice echoed through the cave. Gavon's hands attached to his ears in pain.
"SORRY! I DID NOT MEAN TO STARTLE YOU!" The voice's demeanor was proper; deafening, but proper.
Gavon looked around to see where the voice was coming from. Perched on a stalagmite, there was a little blue bird. Its head twitched and tilted, examining Gavon as he stabilized himself by crossing his legs. This bird was unique to anything Gavon has ever seen before. The tips of the wings and tail were a g
Soundsmith 14"There is a great mystery known as life. Life itself lives, not only through the bodily vessels in which we are born, but the existence of our spirits and the essence of everything. It feels pain, sorrow, sadness. It feels joy, excitement, and love. It can grow. It can dieSoundsmith 144 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Essence is the greatest truth to existence. The embodiment of the influences of nature aids our minds with sharp wits; arms are bodies with great strengths; nourishes our spirits with powerful energies. Without the connection to this essence, what life we see would fade and die
Compassion and understanding separate the tame from the savage. To show compassion, one must silence anger and embrace empathy. To grasp understanding, one must listen and avoid conclusion
By honing your essence, anything is possible, and we can comprehend the great truth
Meditate on this, students. With each inward breath, focus on your el
HalloweenA pumpkin's patch masks his hallow interiorHalloween4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
His rind binds by the leafy vine
A smile worthwhile missing teeth
Beneath the slow soft glow
Of the moons beaming swoon.
This night is like a knife
Which cuts the fake fleshy facade
Of candied corned grins
Ins and outs of bags and gags
Tricks with sticks
Patter of feet for treats.
Beware the stare of the scarecrow
For he can be without
Mercy staked in earth
Bound to the ground until
Hallow's eve believes to follow
No rules as ghouls are on
A mission to madden the minds
Of superstitious supernatural superpowers.
The strong become weak
And the night seems to last
Soundsmith 11Even the cackle of the rat grew in power. His spiritual essence was pouring out of his bodily vessel and invaded the surrounding area, empowering his twisted, dark aura. Uhaus aura struggled, the pulsating became weaker and less frequent. Beads of sweat dripped off of Uhaus bald head, held up and floating in his aura. The grass and ground itself swayed as if underwater, or without gravitys influence, unlike the rats aura which was pressing and forcibly holding down all matter in the area.Soundsmith 114 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Uhau knew he could not hold back the dark aura. It wouldnt be long before it surrounded him and began deteriorating his mind like the others. His aura, shrinking smaller, nearly only an arms length wide labored to hold ground.
It seems you have failed your vigilantic efforts to save these weak minded fools. And you now are becoming weak minded yourself.The rats telepathic sneering was boasting with confidence. Foolish ape.
Uhau felt a presence, a
Rush Home RuffiansRush Home RuffiansRush Home Ruffians4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
GO! GO! GO!
Murray Walker in your ear
Adrenalin pumping, show no fear
You pull away with a guy who's......
Rush hour panic
And you can't believe
You're stuck behind
"Mr. Road Nye-Eev"
Fifteen miles a bleeding hour
Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre, Glower
Window down, you're mad and riled
You offer advice to the fatherless child
Who's perched atop a steering wheel
A coiled and ready Conger Eel
He's ninety-five if he's a day
Learning to drive the Yeerza way
Hearing aid and pebble glasses
Accelerates slower than dead molasses
To the right there is "Mr. Ferrari"
With a Lotus Elite
He bought in Derby
Super-Sad Sound System
Booming da base
Smoky black glass
That hides the face
Of a ten-year old
Sitting on a cushion
A dot-to-dot face
From the drugs he's pushin'
He knows he looks mean
He knows he looks hard
He knows his brain is the colour of lard
But he don't care
'cos he's got respect
As he sports sungl
If There's OneIf there's one thing I really hateIf There's One4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's monosodium glutamate
If there's one thing I really love
It's no holes in an oven glove
If there's one thing that makes me sick
It's over-loud shouts of "Fetch the stick"
If there's one thing I can't abide
It's people who tell me to "ride the tide"
If there's one thing that boils my blood
It's brand new trainers caked in mud
If there's one thing that gets my goat
It's an itchy nose and a runny throat
There's one thing that lights my fuse
Despressing stories on the news
If there's one thing that really galls
It's Super-Hyper Shopping Malls
If there's one thing that makes me mad
It's everything that's labelled "fad"
But the biggest thing to shake my tree
Is moaning, wingeing gits - like me.
Sober Man ClincherThere once was a man from CromartySober Man Clincher4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who came home very late from a party
His wife helped him in
With a huge rolling pin
That sobered the man from Cromarty
Fish SupperThere once was a man from FlagstaffFish Supper4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who caught a huge fish with a gaff
But the fish pulled him in
Proceeded to eat him
That unfortunate man from Flagstaff
It's Turtles All The Way DownThe Quark and the Jaguar and Schroedingers CatIt's Turtles All The Way Down4 years ago in Open More Like This
Sat side by side on an Earth that was flat
They knew it was so, for they had been told
That all of creation was held in the fold
Of an Elephants skin who stood on the back
Of a Turtle so old, his shell had turned black
And his eyes and his spots were stars out in Space
And out in this Space by a yellowish dot
In relative cold, so relative hot
Was the Life of Creation that burned on the back
Of the Quark and the Jaguar and Schroedingers Cat
Dry Lime RickThere once was a limerick writerDry Lime Rick4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who's outlook could not have been brighter
Till one day in July
His ideas ran dry
And he couldn't get the last line to rhyme
Making love to memories....I made love to another memory tonight, it confused and hurt me, not knowing what to do with it playing on my mind. It screams and shouts at me, makes me see through troubled eyes. My ears ring with echo's of a troubled mind, they seam so fake, so made up, so perfect, they seam like dreams, things I wish for, but really they are things I hope for again...the things that filled me with smile and laughter. When I sleep my mind is full of the past, the things we did and the things I have done. But soon normality will return, the day i've hoped for so long, and when it comes, i'll be ready, to make love with beautiful memories....Making love to memories....4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I Am BicI Am BicI Am Bic5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thought I'd sit and write about the rhythm,
That goes into a poems composition,
The scansion that de-lines and endeavours to define,
What lies within the poets disposition.
Macron and Breve or maybe an Ictus,
Some of the marks with which to inflict us,
The syllabic patter of iambic feet,
(That's an inverted trochee) to keep it all neat.
Dactylic Hexameter, to me it's all Greek,
Translating a line would take me a week,
So I'll stay with my spondees and hope for the best,
"Unstressed" and "Stressed" as they say in the West.
For cutting remarks there is always caesurae,
The meter and foot for sequencing syllabi,
A verse that is headless lacks syllable one,
A catalexis I'm told endeth in none.
To end my excursion in poetical rhyme,
A 'Heroic Couplet' I'll try to define,
Five iambs that are in rhyming accord,
Make couplets heroic without the sword.