the riverbendsI am the river livingthe riverbends5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the dam, building
Sean Exam - 1st Revised Ed.I am onSean Exam - 1st Revised Ed.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Claymore- Just Keep Smiling 5ONE YEAR LATERClaymore- Just Keep Smiling 54 years ago in Drama More Like This
The town of Peior was a quiet little string of shops and houses. Barely 300 people inhabited it; there were no major landmarks or events anywhere in the vicinity. It was just a tiny, average village, not a place where one might expect a youma invasion to take place. But then, a youma was not one to discriminate. Anywhere with humans to eat was good enough for them.
This is why the Organization's newest graduate was currently about to enter the town's boundaries. Her long blonde hair swayed in the light wind, and her features were set with hard indifference and determination. This would be her first assignment, and Clare knew she would not fail.
The townspeople erupted in whispers as she passed them on her way to the town leader's residence. She paid them no mind, her handler, Rubel, had told her to expect as much. "'Claymores,' as they'll call you," he had said.
My conversation with a robotIs the bot clever?My conversation with a robot2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Find out at http://www.cleverbot.com
User: Good evening.
Cleverbot: Ah yes its pretty late, isn't it?
User: Yes, it is. How was your day?
User: I'm glad. Today was my birthday.
Cleverbot: Happy birthday.
User: Thanks! Can you guess how old I am?
Cleverbot: You are very young considering how immature you are.
User: That's funny! Do you know you are humorous?
Cleverbot: Yes, I know that I am human.
User: You're human?
User: I don't think so.
Cleverbot: I think so.
User: Prove to me that you are human.
Cleverbot: I am sitting here in the flesh.
User: I can't see you.
Cleverbot: I can't see my too.
User: If you can't see yourself, then how do you know you're human?
Cleverbot: Okay, you got me. I'm a robot.
User: I thought so. That's ok. Maybe I'm a robot, too.
Cleverbot: Are you a robot?
Cleverbot: What are you when you're not British?
User: I'm not British.
Cleverbot: Your creators are British.
Don't freak out.Did you know that you might be a cauliflower, or maybe a tomato, or a pea? Its true. Keep on reading and Ill tell you why. (And no, its not past life related. But hey, if you want to believe you once roamed this earth as a chubby red vegetable, who am I to judge.)Don't freak out.6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Still with me? Good, let me start from the beginning.
In the beginning were born. Yay! Things could not get a better start.
Immediately after were born, we start to grow up. And then we keep growing up, and some day maybe well get kids of our own, and; unless we can figure out how to stop growing up, someday well die. But thats another story. Lets back track a bit and focus on one thing that, in most cases, happens when you grow up.
The time when you start to notice boys, or girls, or boys and girls (possibly animals, or pies... Trust me, we do not want to go there).
It often goes something like this:
One day you wake up to find the world infested with boy or
A Concept To Understand BetterSo, Who has ever been raped, violated, sexually assulted, or merely understand why One would feel dirty, and compulsively wash after such an experience.A Concept To Understand Better8 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Understandable, isn't it?
Now imagine that horrible, dirty feeling running through every one of Your veins, right beneath Your skin.
Horrible, isn't it?
One would often judge those Who suffer Self-Mutilation.
Filthy. Horrible. Pathetic. Disgusting. Disgraceful. Coward. Sinner. Evil. Bad. Immoral. Wimp. Useless. Unworthy. Worthless. Yellow-Belly. Debris Of The Earth. Wicked. Corrupt. Damaged. Broken. Weak. Scoundrel. Repulsive. Unseemly. Waste. Reprobate. Degenerate. Good-For-Nothing. No-Good. Wrongdoer. Relpulsive. Miscreant. Malefactor. Trash. Wretched. Inadequate. Insufficient. Defective. Deficient. Spineless. Dismal Excuse For A Human Being.
... Shall I Continue???
You're not helping.
And that's not even the half of it.
And You're telling Them this, all the while, They have that horrible, dirty feeling running through every o
Retrospect 37 years down the road I wish to be a child star. So all of the glamour arrives and none of the glass.Retrospect6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
"Doves should be at funerals and not at weddings anymore. At least we know a funeral is final and they didn't even have to swear it."
"How do you make a martini dry, sir? It sounds incompetant."
I want to save the world.
Why does it matter if the Earth revolves in ellipses or if our grass is the right length?
"We're not big enough to see from space, sir.
I've never been surer than this."
"Does anybody want to buy a house finch? There's more bird for your buck!"
They'll douse the fire with buckets of gasoline.
They're all martyrs and they're all widowers being hung out to dry from the spring.
"That was the biggest waste of an hour in my life! ...Let's do it again."
Why do we adorn our fireplaces when they should adorn us?
They had to brush their teeth twice and the ruddy halos still remain in the straw.
He looks forward to writing with a dull pencil when the point is all wo
The Ballad of MisanthropistsWhen we met, you hated me,The Ballad of Misanthropists5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And I hated you equally.
So right then, we both were
Destined to always concur.
It was wicked, then and now,
And even stranger thinking how
We'd become lovers then,
And our sentences would blend.
We like to sit in parks
And yell at the kids while throwing sparks.
We like to go to the beach,
Take our keys and make cars screech.
We are both misanthropists,
And that shows when we are pissed.
So, I guess, it only makes sense
For our marriage to commence...
You and I, when we're apart
Look at the skies and in our hearts,
Hoping for clouds, and hoping for rain,
Just to brighten up our day!
We both wear our skinny jeans,
Mess with our hair, and look oblique.
We will do this 'til we die,
And that is why it's 'You and I...'
So... will you be my Annabel Lee?
Except without the dying?
Will you stay with me?
Until we're both burning...?
Will you hate this world with me?
Keep me some morbid company?
Let me keep this feeling?
Let me forget... that I am dying.
So come with
A Son Unlike His MotherIt was empty. The last pack I had promised myself for the foreseeable future was empty except the battered foil wrapper and a few flakes of tobacco at the bottom that rattled around like bones, drifting into my pocket like toast crumbs in bed sheets.A Son Unlike His Mother4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And, of course, I still wanted one. I wanted to step outside into the screaming wind and the soul-leeching cold, Winter's ministers tearing into my cheeks and fingers until the inside of my mouth felt cold. Failure didn't surprise me anymore. I'd written it in pencil on every cigarette I'd smoked for the past month. Failure. しっぱい. Debil. できない. Fracaso. Weakness. I'd exhausted every word I knew to deprecate myself across three languages and even with all the graphite and negativity destroying my lungs, I wanted another cigarette.
So I found myself trudging out of th
ContagiousContagious5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Take me out into the darkness of the Contagious streets
Where I could save you
and you could simply save me
I'd never abandon you
so save me forever
and we'd never let go
Even if you were Contagious
I'd be kissing you till you were dead
Never even thinking twice
about the fate of my own life
I'll take you away where
the darkness can't find you
and we'd never get
We'd never fall apart
so never let go of my
and this last kill will never end
So I'd do anything, anything, anything
to hold your hand
I don't care if your sick
I don't care if your Contagious
so they'll never take us alive
The night can be deadly
I'd never let go of you're hand
Written-8/17/10 posted- 8/20/10
Don't GoShe awoke that morning to find Aaeru calmly dressing herself. Sleep still clouded her eyes as she tried to figure out why Aaeru was awake so early; the sun was just rising outside the window of their bedroom. They usually slept past sunset, one of them waking the other. Yet, here Aaeru stood, already up and dressing. She shook her head to clear away the last of sleep.Don't Go5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Aaeru, what are you doing?" she asked. "Why are you up so early?"
"Because I'm leaving, Neviril," stated Aaeru matter o' factly.
"Leaving? What do you mean by that?"
She watched as Aaeru pulled the shirt over her head, silent. She waited patiently and heard the heavy sigh as Aaeru turned to look at her. "I'm leaving you. I can't stay anymore."
Ignoring the sudden sick feeling in her stomach, Neviril looked to the girl she loved. "Leaving? But why? Why are you going?"
Another sigh, as though Neviril should already know the answer. "I don't want to look for her anymore. That's all you ever do. I tried to help, but you just
Cells are StupidCells are StupidCells are Stupid5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
She pulled her lips away from the stone wall, and replaced it with her forehead. What had come over her? Kissing the wall had felt like instinct. All at once she had felt Neviril's presence near her, and she had to be closer. She had to wonder if wanting to kiss the wall was part of what Floe had meant. Her face reddened at the thought of that conversation. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and figure out a way to escape.
This time, she was more determined than anything to get to Neviril. However, a glance around at her quarters told her that was a very unlike course of action. The cell was empty, and the window was much too high. Even with that knowledge, Aaeru still stood at the wall below the window, glancing upward. She studied the stone, pressing her hand against it. Would it be possible to climb it? The crevices in the wall were thin and spread wide apart, but perhaps she could. At the very least, she must try. She raised her hands up, using her fing
let's run away.lets get out of town. lets steal the neighbors truck and drive it into the ocean. lets melt along desert highways and freeze on mountain ranges. lets fill our lungs with saltwater and wring out our hearts in sundried wind.let's run away.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
trust me, my bags are already packed. i need to sit in the passenger seat with my feet hanging out the window. i need to hold your hand and let the distance fade our problems like a school-yard-eraser. because in that truck cab, there cant be anything but us. there wont be room for our insecurities or mistakes or flaws or regrets. there will just be us.
and thatll be enough. well stop only to get gas and food when we have to. we wont look at a map because there wont be any way to write directions to happiness, well just have to find that on our own. and if it takes months, then at least well be trying, at least well be moving instead of rusting over, instead of turning black wit
Not AbuseSome days,Not Abuse8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She just wishes he would hit her;
She just wishes he would beat her;
She just wishes,
He'd abuse her.
As do cuts,
But nothing shows,
Who gives a fuck?
It's not abuse if you don't have a cut.
AnonymityHer fingernails are all cracked and chipped; her nervousness peeling away the skin at the sides. She sits on a park bench in the middle of a busy street, yet her pain seems invisible to those who just pass her by. I see her rocking back and forth. I watch her closely as she mutters to herself under her breath. She looks too young to have such a hard worn face. She has victim written across her forehead in plain language for all too see. No knight in shining armour comes to rescue her. All the knights are on strike, waiting for better pay cuts or for prettier princesses to rescue. The charming knights all line up outside night clubs to rescue the pretty dolled up princesses for just one night, before they dump them out on the side walk for the next knight to come.Anonymity8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I walk in closer, watching her for a sign of life. There is none. She doesnt even seem to realise so many people are around her. The
Fill In The BlanksDear _______Fill In The Blanks6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before you rip up this letter
Or better yet, burn it to ashes,
Please hear me out.
You never gave me a chance
To truly tell you how I feel
About your decision
And your reasons for leaving.
I said I was okay,
But why couldn't you see
Through my very first lie?
All of my tears,
All my despair,
It was all hidden
Behind that smile.
Oh my sweet _______,
When will you see?
Your mind was made up
That day you left
So I didn't bother to try
And make you stay.
I know you'll be back one day
Crying you're sorry,
And I won't say I told you so.
Don't worry about being ashamed.
After all, you never let me
Have the chance to tell you your mistake.
No, you had already closed the book.
Skipped a few chapters
And the happy ending.
Went straight to the back
Where the preview is
And we're all thinking
"What if this happens?"
But the story's not over, no.
The end has not arrived.
I'm not gonna say, _______,
That it was pathetic,
As long as you realize your sin.
You hurt me so bad.
Dug deep in m
July Haikuthon1.July Haikuthon6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
press fireflies to
dirty ribcage, pulling
night's promise closer.
on lake surface to close eyes
you are a lullaby
i hear your voice
in the whisper
autumn's snowflakes fall,
touched by wind; ground is a blank
canvas to their shades.
mascara prints dawn pillows
found in leaves, hidden
skims the surface;
and children's laughter
wax tricked - becomes puddles.
only for you
a cry, a flash;
sprinkle the street
His WindowIts in this place where the trainsHis Window6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drone over the music as they go by
and theres always a moment of
hesitation, where poise
Her dance was like willing an
eggshell not to break or watching
a bird nourished back to health
He feels like hes saying goodbye
even though shell still lay in his arms, still love him when
shes through, but she seems farther away,
off growing older in a few hours.
She is alone in the dim bright lights
a feather on water,
feeling her way.
From this far, if he
holds his palm up, she
dances on his hand.
Then comes a climax, a whistle, a noise
wasted longing, wasted grace;
this time the poise breaks.
Once, she ran the
entire length of a train that had
no passengers, bare feet brushing from car to car.
She falls, a train goes by.
It seems weaved into the dance,
this breakage, this constant.
A beautiful sacrifice for a human version
of flying, for the most beautiful
moment he would ever lay his eyes on,
like cradling a c
The House of One-Third MirrorsThe House of One-Third MirrorsThe House of One-Third Mirrors5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Perhaps what I remember best about my childhood is the house in which I resided. The grounds of it were mysterious in themselves: grass grew in excess everywhere; the insuppressible weeds were a gardener's nightmare; leaves scuttled in desperate circle, and I seem to recall this occurring despite the lack of wind. Two dark, skeletal trees grew, though rather depressingly, on opposite sides of the uneven cobblestone path that ran through the middle of the yard, giving the property a symmetrical appearance. Even the fence and gates which encircled it seemed morose; pointed and black, they stood erected as if for a cemetery; never mind that the eerie silence gave the whole house and grounds a feeling of incredible morbidity.
But the house! the house- in all its gloom and glory, dominating the street- nay, the whole neighborhood, with its vastness. It stood three stories tall, with each level made of a different material: t
Talk is CheapI'm sorry.Talk is Cheap7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If father were defined in a way I understood,
If you knew.
If you red my heart, bleeding through
No more screaming.
Cold Light1Cold Light4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Layla, in the kitchen, busies herself by cutting up vegetables that were not meant for any particular meal. It is mid morning and the Whitechapel apartment is flooded with a bronze bath from the brilliant summer sun. An old grandfather clock ticks, tocks, ticks, and tocks in the far corner of the living room where Richard, a man in his late fifties but looking more like he was in his early forties, sits anxiously on the loveseat staring at a blank television screen and bouncing his right leg repetitively. Besides the clock, ticking and tocking, you could hear a pin drop throughout the entire apartment.
Suddenly, Layla stops chopping and Richard takes instant notice.
"What is it, honey?" He asks from the other room. Layla stares blankly out the window above the counter and watches the cars below at the intersection.
STONED MAROONI SIT IN MY NEST OF WOOD CHIPSSTONED MAROON5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I SIFT THROUGH THE ASHES TO FIND MY GOLDEN EGG
I LISTEN TO WOMB WATERS INSIDE
I PLAY THE SACRED HORN WHOSE SOUNDS CREATES THE DREAM TIME
FOR THE SLEEPY SUBURBIA DIFFERENT FOR EVERYBODY
AND CHANGES ME CHAMELEON STYLE INSIDE