pit bullEvery year pit bull terriers are responsible for the death of 3 people.pit bull8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
40 children a year drown in 5 gallon water pails, in your lifetime you are 16 times more likely to drown in a 5 gallon water pail then be killed by a pit bull.
Pit bulls were known as the number 1 family dog in the 20th century, but the very same qualities that make this breed such a wonderful pet, are also valued by those who use them as fighting dogs, training them in brutal methods, some even going as far as to sew bottle caps under the dogs skin to ensure they're in constant pain, to make then more aggresive.
150 people a year are killed by falling coconuts, making you 60 times more likely to be killed by a palm tree then by a put bull.
Pit bull puppies, ones that have never fought before are often killed because their parents were fighters, since when did it become guilty until proven innocent?
According to the American Canine Temperament Testing Association, 82.5% of the American Pit Bull Terriers
The Opus Of The Everythingthe ocean floor, the twisted sea andThe Opus Of The Everything4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
all the flying jacket bees, and all
the flying birds and he, the one who
caught the glint of spring, who laid
it on the downy dew, the crispy green
of May fescue, who saw the plans of built
up lights that burn to light a thousand
pools of dripping rain and puddles lay
on any given night or day, the brick by
brick, the mortar spread, the snap of sugar
sweetly felt, the brine that made it
through the cloud, the opus of the
everything, the great and wide, the heat
of flame, the sun in cold but sunny sky,
the sound of when a child laughs,
the opus of the everything
Enemy of the Republic Ch 1STAR WARS: ENEMY OF THE REPUBLICEnemy of the Republic Ch 15 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Oorvo Glikk watched as the Republic gunships swooped down from the highlands into the low plain that the fledgling Confederacy of Independent Systems occupied. He watched as they cleared a landing zone, watched as they disgorged their platoons of humans coated in shining, white armor, and as those same humans began to open fire on his people. His wings quivered with anger, and he clicked out a curse. They were heading for the Spires; a grouping of sacred hives containing living quarters, with their immense droid foundries underneath.
Six legged Republic walkers--like giant mechanical roga-trudged foward, raining fiery death upon his fellow warriors. Letting out a high pitched trill, filled with righteous fury, he took flight on his thin, durable wings, ascending into the arid sky.
He readied his sonic blaster, wanting desperately to make the Republic pay for daring
TAZMAMART:The Slowest DeathTAZMAMART: THE SLOWEST DEATH PENALTYTAZMAMART:The Slowest Death6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
TAZMAMRT is a jail unlike any other on the planet. Anyone whos taken in would be lucky to ever get out alive. This place is meant to be synonym for death; not even death, but something greater and more formidable than death itself. Tazmamart represents the paramount human atrocity, human cruelty and bloodcurdling crime at their best. In Tazmamart, there is no day and night, only the longest night ever, one long night stretching on to infinity; its an eternal night that swallows any hope of seeing the light of day again.
There, one is deprived of life and death, one has no freedom of choice, and one experiences a complete removal from life, from the category of human beings, only to endure greater mental anguish and physical suffering than one could comprehend.
The half-dead prisoners had been forgotten for so long. When I say "so long" I think about a well without depth, a tunnel dug with their fingers and teeth. The cell is permanently
TimelessLove tracked upon the fallen dewTimeless6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And brought you to my arms again
With half-slept eyes I greeted you
And lost all sense of when.
If time was told in lovers' years
No one would mark the day or week
For when the one that's loved is near
The hour's sands don't leak.
Oh press me to your lips once more
And clasp my fingers tight
I feel as if the sky's the floor-
You make my soul that light.
Curse fireflies that sweep the sky
With lightning through their wings
Though we don't count, time still slips by
Why will the lark not sing?
Wild Flower Crimes When I crush the head of a clover bloom, the scent carries me to that far off field where my weed battered knees cut trails by the blackberry bush. Where the old man let us feast on his jam flavored crop of wild fruit, and told us tales of when his hair was crowned with dandelion fluff. Where the overhead hum of power lines cursing the heat of summer was the only thread we used to find our way back home. Where the king of the day was crowned based upon who found the biggest possum skull, or smashed the tallest crawdad hole; swearing he fought off its occupant, who was the size of Bobbys dog. Back then, the trash of ditches was pirate swag, or royal treasure. A baseball bat swollen with ditch water was a giants club. A thorny weed was the last proof of an ancient forest.Wild Flower Crimes7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Time ran slow there, meandering with bees tha
Shady Evenings in Early SpringDrenched in rainwaterShady Evenings in Early Spring10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pressing cold fingers to
Small thighs sticking
to your ribcage.
-the leaves were in my hair for days-
but my daffodils finally bloomed by the beach trees.
PoemThe daisies lookPoem10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
underneath summer, like the rest of us.
Petals wilting to surround the face
and then dying;
a dandelion's halo.
Soap and CigarettesEnvy burns inside my brainSoap and Cigarettes8 years ago in Other More Like This
Eating at me once again
Agony is what will remain
And I can endure no more
Like jagged thorns and coarse barbed wire
Gnawing with a hate like fire
And despite all I desire
I can withstand no more
The smell of soap and cigarettes
Ebony and deep regrets
A softly-spoken marrionette
I can feel no more
Despite the fact that I am lonely
and, in fact, you are the only
creature who has dared to know me
I can be no more
Behind me queasy, uneasy smile
Like a helpless, lonely child
I try to speak out, "Stay a while"
But you will hear no more
A painful heart within stays broken
Like a thought that's not yet spoken
Close my eyes and never open
Because I am no more
AIM with Bella and the Cullensmasochisticlion just signed on.AIM with Bella and the Cullens7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
stupidlamb just signed on.
Ml: hello love
Sl: hi Eddie
Ml: when do you want me to come over
Sl: all the time
Ml: i was hoping you would say that ^_^
Sl: where are you?
Ml: on my way to your house but Alice stopped me
Sl: Edward*stern look in eyes*
Ml: yes *dazzling look in eyes*
Sl: you cant dazzle me on the computer
Ml: cant say i didnt try
Sl: whats wrong
Ml: Alice wants you to go shopping with her
Sl: WHAT Nooooooooooo XP
Ml: Bella calm down I can hear you from my house
Sl: dont let her take me
Ml: sorry but I cant help you
Sl: WHAT!!!! Why not
Ml: because Im coming too
Sl: really youre coming too
Ml: yes love
Sl: well be in dressing rooms all day
Ml: so will I
Ml: Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, and Esme are coming too
Sl: crap theyre going to laugh at me when Alice pulls me into a store
Ml: sorry love
Ml: I love you too
My Future in AlgorithmsI'm an awning-bound baby,My Future in Algorithms5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
all denim and dopamine.
You're sporting a cardigan,
and a knack for trigonometry.
Toaster waffle junkies,
with blue eyes.
I bridge the canyon between our lips on tip-toe:
(It is more than three inches, but less than thirty miles)
My subdermal south-sun shows through sometimes,
and you're arterially Scandinavian.
I count the stars,
and you count down from 9 to 5.
Statistically, baby, we're damned.
I Couldn't Tell You...I couldn't tell you,I Couldn't Tell You...6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What exactly it is inside of me,
Fear or pain, hurt or love.
I couldn't tell you,
Why I can feel what's inside of me,
Am I broken or just lost?
I couldn't tell you,
How my my heart is concrete inside of me,
A stone heart beating.
I couldn't tell you,
How on the inside I'm broken and bruised,
But the outside is unmarked.
I couldn't tell you,
How I'm torn and shredded, lying in tatters,
Not even tears can show.
I couldn't tell you,
That every breath I take doesn't hurt,
That each day doesn't mark another scar inside.
I couldn't tell you,
Even if the storm in me is real,
Or something I made for amusement.
But I can tell you,
That through all the winds and rains and trials,
I'm still here.
Hanna, a reviewHanna, a review4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Hanna, a review
For all of her life, Hanna Heller (Saoirse Ronan), has been trained in the Artic to be an assassin by her father, Erik (Eric Bana). Finally, the moment she has awaited for has come. At her father's offering, she signals the American government in order to kill a target: Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett).
Hello, true believers! Remember last week how I liked Sucker Punch? Well, I loved Hanna.
(Okay, if you're going to jump on me for this, lemme explain. I said I 'liked' Sucker Punch. I didn't say it was a good film and I gave you 3 other references of better films that you 'should' see. I simply said it was a film that, sitting though, wasn't as terrible an experience as say, watching the Spirit or The Last Airbender. Besides, I spent the first paragraphs of that review defending Michael Bay. If that doesn't tell you to take my recommendations with a grain of salt, nothing will.)
However, when watching Hanna one can clearly tell that director Joe Wright
Hanna's EscapeWhen they asked me why my eyes stared warily away,Hanna's Escape4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I told them I was afraid,
but when I could not answer of what, they sent me to the white room.
Soft voices asked me over and over,
pretty words twisted again and again,
but the syntax led to the same question.
The jargon spoken to each other translated to me that I was abnormal.
I asked them now, my monotone lyrics wondering,
why it was I wasn't the same as the other children.
When I raised my voice, they'd ready a needle,
and when I cried, they did the same.
Frozen by the cameras that watched me with mechanical eyes,
and the fakely curved lips of my questioners.
Reaching my arms outwardly so innocently as for a hug,
I snapped their necks instead.
My pale face was dotted with scarlet as I left,
their pistols and blood in my hands.
To the VysehradTo the Vyehrad, Prague (May 13th, 2008)To the Vysehrad6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I left a sliver of myself adrift on the Vltava,
the mother river. Not a piece of my heart, no-
nothing so yielding or moveable as that.
A curve of rib perhaps, or the third digit
of my left little finger, the largest vertebrae
or the deep roots of my wisdom teeth.
I shed a bone-it slipped out from beneath
my skin in the late afternoon,
when the sun on the new, smooth headstones
covered my eyes with blindfolds
white and gold; it fell
into the foreign trailing arbutus
without a sound.
When the rain came, later, it rolled
with the black grave garden dirt
into the river and settled, cleaned
and smoothed by the stones at the bottom.
I was already in a different country,
so I didn't feel it then.
And the color of scoured bones
is like good marble, so who can blame them
for drawing that piece of me from the water, thinking
it had slid from a statue, or a church, or a castle,
or the white columns of the St. Wenceslas vineyard?
There was a hi
NominatedThe actual walk would be brief. The deep cavern the city of Halcyon occupied had long been divided into three teirs. The First tier held the Wards and Sensate building. It was where the powerful worked, thrived, and artfully managed the rest of the city. The Arcane Ward set close to the drop off of the tier, shaped partially from a stalacmite, the compound had grown to encompass the fractured pillar. Across the marked path sat the squat Blade Ward, having been built on relatively flat ground. While not as tall as the Arcane, the Blade was wide enough it encompassed the jist of the tier.Nominated6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
But that was not where Niorsam was going. Decorated in the robes of his station, which set off on his shoulders to expose the intricate blue markings on his neck, he and any other marked by the Azure Lord were invited to attend the ceremony. Never a requirement save for Allure Priests, he had opted to include himself this time. By the buzz of conversation along the road, hed made the right decisio
RecallingOnce, I forgot my limbs.Recalling7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I left them downstairs because I was in such a rush to get up to the second floor. I didn't even realize my legs were missing until I was halfway up the stairs. "No matter," I thought, "I won't need them for a while anyway." Only when I tried to reach for a paintbrush did I realize that my left arm had done just that, and the right away. Again, I shrugged it off (with only my shoulders) and went about my business.
My business is rather unconventional. There's no elevator in my office building, because I work from home. Thus, forgetting my limbs downstairs would be, as you probably assume, a hassle. And, well, sure, it's a bit of an obstacle, but I can deal with it. I'm still here now, aren't I?
I asked my boss about installing an elevator once. No, he declined without a moment's consideration. Well, how about an escalator? Absolutely not. You see (he told it to me somewhat like this, but I fear that a few words are off), stair-climbing is a virtue. It isn't sup
The PerformanceThe seats were filled, all of them circling around the now curtained and set stage. Walls of dark red fabric had been used to create backstage while another curtain hanging in the front shut the audience off from whatever may be behind. Tension, excitement, all of it danced through the air. The upper class mingled and mixed with the lower as they all sat and claimed the seats available. It was either join in the throng, or miss out on the performance. And no one was ready to do that. It was strange seeing the blend of aristocrats sitting along side a farmer, or the serene wizard from the magical section of the town engaging a blacksmith in excited chatter. All of them came together in one glorious, harmonious mix. Normally the differences of the people wouldve kept them separated. But it was the thrill of going to see the Performance Master and his troupe that had, for the moment, united them.The Performance6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Various orbs of glass glowed with light, floating here and there in key
We Watched Ourselves Dissipatewe caught our breath with butterfly netsWe Watched Ourselves Dissipate8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pieces of each other's wings
that stuck in our lungs.
the sky gave a shiver and the stars
unsealed, their firefly cores shimmering
plucking them from the air, they slip
between our fingertips
and fall like butterfly wings
to the ground.
we conduct the celestial engagement with
our metallic hearts
that control this unsteady rhythm of
and staccato love-making.
like conductors in an orchestra.
our lives write the love songs.
SynthesisSynthesis6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sea removed us,
We are coiled waves of weeds,
beneath sheets of shells, and
The salty, sweet sun burns our eyes,
burns us black, and we melt apart,
uncoiled in corners of coral.
The sun removed us,
The House As if the Devil himself has let it,The House5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But the tenant is unknown.
The door is always closed and sealed
And gloom sleeps in all the rooms.
Rain gnaws at the plaster and runs
Through the broken leaden gutters
And like sweat on a sick man's face
Dampness comes up the grey walls.
And last night (did you see through the window?),
When a sudden wind shrieked inside,
The door was thrown wide open,
Night hounds howled in the yard