a masochist walked into a barten times.a masochist walked into a bar5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Glorious ShitAnother Dream-Glorious Shit6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
You can make it;
Pass through shit
To welcome the divine.
What kind of mind is this?
What kind of perversion?
You don't make much sense to me,
You don't make much sense to them-
You don't make much sense.
Return to painting flowers,
Name flowers flowers,
Name darkness strangeness,
Name genius a vile trait.
We cannot decipher you...
Bend down a little.
Everyone needs their audience-
Who are you to dispute?
Who is it you're talking to?
It can't be to yourself!
Everything is illuminated!
(I can write my glossary
Of horror and neglect.)
Do I love you?
Of course I love you,
Nobody else still cares
About the little things,
Such as your senseless self.
(Yes, I'll make everything clear,
The way you want me to.)
Let's speak a new language,
Let's call man the Head,
The alphabet into the globe-
The stud of universe.
(Of course we are the center,
Can't you see?)
Stop mocking me!
You are a brilliant little b
TornTorn6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He felt the magic in his hands
and tasted the echo of colors
as his fingers ached across the keys
loving them like children
and notes filled the space
falling to the floor
echoing on the wood
the resonance of too many years
haunting the room
the tune trembling on his fingers
broke his heart
and swelled the ears
of all those who heard
the music of the torn.
EscapeEscape5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Fighting and arguing
Fire and ice
Finding an escape
Hiding in my room
Searching for an escape
Listening for an escape
Run and hide
Ice and Fire
Finding an escape
Where am I going?
Looking for an escape
Why am I here?
Finding an escape
Fighting and arguing
I need an escape
From my mind
From my home
From my family
Is there an escape?
Why?Why?2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Why did Einstein create such equations?
Why is Math full of calculations?
And why does English need so many punctuations?
Why is there a need to study
Math, Physics and Chemistry?
The very thought of it, makes a student's life history!
When the black and white paper finally arrives,
the time-table for examinations,
it causes tension and irritation.
No parties, no excursion.
Only mugging up, slogging and exhaustion.
The definition of an awful week of preparation.
When comes the last day of examination,
it is an occasion for celebration!
But, when the results reach home,
it's time for a brief explanation...
Read Me RealRead Me RealRead Me Real3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am the person to breathe you real
Reawaken perfect in any age
I house every moment you hold dear
Receptacle of your every hope and fear
Witness to your anger when you engage
Returned again to breathe you real
Memories still fresh of how we feel
Locked together on third eye's stage
All the moments that I hold dear
I can hear your voice when I hold you near
Give you my mind, free of your cage
A playground for me to breathe you real
Come with me again on time line's wheel
Do not be afraid to turn the page
Our story has all the moments I hold dear
It's our voices on the wind we hear
All it takes for me to be assuaged
Stories on the wind when I breathe you real
Stories in my mind, moments I hold dear
Roleplay: Luna's Tiny TroubleBy schoolfilmer and suikerdiamantRoleplay: Luna's Tiny Trouble5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Note: When a character is talking with a squeaky voice after they have shrunk, the text is in Italics.
(Stella is in the practice field, where Stella and Luna can practice on newly gained spells. Right now, Stella got "Star Shrinker", and Luna got "Lunar Shrinker". That's right, they share some of the spells they get.)
Stella: Look at that, I'm making progress! Just a few more of those, and I'm all ready!
(Luna enters abruptly, scaring Stella so she flings a Shrinking Star spell at her)
Luna: Whoa! (Shrinks to a very tiny size)
Stella: Oh my... Luna, are you OK?
Luna: Yes, but what did you do to me?!
Stella: I must have shrunk you by accident...
Luna: So I'm tiny, you said? Turn me back to normal at once!
Stella: Sorry sis, you have to wait 24 hours, and then you'll grow back to your normal size.
Luna: I have to wait for a day fo
AliveI am a black canvasAlive6 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
Smeared with gold and red.
No-one forgets a good teacher"Listen to me or I'll break your legs"No-one forgets a good teacher7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
- Steve Thompson
Dear Sir. Not sir. It's automatic.
Sorry Steve. Dear Steve. I'm fed
On seven years of autocratic
to teachers." Seven years' emphatic
Faire-sans-dire still in my head.
Dear Steve. Your style was more dramatic
you taught life and art instead:
Stoppard, condoms, mathematics,
goatee beards and Berthold Brecht
and Bigmouth Strikes Again, such is
what you gave us, plus the threat
of a half a term on crutches
for ignoring you. Dear Steve - respect.
Am chef de dragosteDacă te vei îndrăgosti vreodată de mine, trebuie să ştii de cine te îndrăgosteşti de fapt.Am chef de dragoste4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Te îndrăgosteşti de inocenţa ce-mi îmbracă pielea, din cap până-n picioare, ca un tatuaj temporar ce ţipă să fie înlăturat. Te îndrăgosteşti de modul în care ochii mei nu sunt nici verzi, nici albaştri, şi nici gri; ci căprui, banali şi adânci ca o groapă de pământ fără fund. Te îndrăgosteşti de nenumărate vise divizate în dorinţe ce aşteaptă să fie ghicite, cereri ce au evadat prin cuvinte şi fantezii ce îmi colorează ochii şi mintea. Te îndrăgosteşti de un suflet pueril, o inima naivă şi un trup plin de pasiune. Te îndrăgosteşti de focul ce-mi arde sub piele şi mă face vulnerabilă, dependentă de
Hell FireHell Fire4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fire, hell fire, its gaining great height,
Defeat your desire or you shall ignite.
-Qazi Syed Sayeed Nahin
The Made ManThe Made ManThe Made Man5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Over seven thousand generations man has made,
Each war and election carefully played,
And the unknowing citizens ever betrayed,
Alas an end to those they inveighed,
His father was the one who stood tall and staid,
Torn from the hall of alcoholic crusade,
It was only then the midwife waylaid,
That the doctor had found the placenta off-grade,
Yet his mother's smile was far from a knave's,
Although he was different,
She still saw no ailment,
Though the calls from school were more than infrequent,
All that mattered was that her son wasn't the grievant,
It was a matter of culture,
This reliance on gesture,
Walking and talking were more than adventure,
But all that was said is that it was nature,
Delving too deeply for even the lecture,
Though strong his applause,
When he played in the Wizard of Oz,
It never brought back the family that was,
Even on the day of the nurse and the gauze,
He never could quite figure out the cause,
The older he got the more he was lost,
DolorII¿Eres tú? Su voz retumbo hasta en el rincón más profundo de mí corazón, aquella cálida voz trajo de nuevo a mi recuerdos, que aunque habían pasado hacía mucho tiempo, los sentía como si tan solo hubiesen sido ayer ¿Hermano? Su voz, cargada de felicidad y nostalgia, camuflaba la tristeza e ira que sentía, debía sentir algo en ese momento, pero ya había olvidado la mayoría de los sentimientos, entonces solo me quedé cayado. Sin verla a su rostro, aun dándole la espalda observando aquella ventana de esa vieja casa en la que viví, sentía aquellas lágrimas que nacían en sus ojos, recorrían sus mejillas y se desprendían de su rostro, perdiendo su rastro con el pasar del viento, las palabras que debía decir no salían de mi boca, es más, no sabía que palabras debía decir.DolorII6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Así luego de un fúnebre y extendido silencio, por f
not enough - part 2not enough - part 213 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not enough - part 2
(give me your drugs)
I am tossed into an ache of tearfulness
borne of a centered weariness.
it mimics illness
but medicines, sought to soothe
insidiously wash away
Give me your drugs, love,
natural oils, honey and teas
bubbling water in China cups
steeped rose hips, lemon and cinnamon.
Take me, to crisp cool sheets
lay me down in the comfort of your arms
allay the weakness in my body
with the slow movements of your hands
allow me to inhale the energy
in your whispered words.
Touch me with demulcent fingertips
with feather light kisses
at the fall of my stomach
infuse me with your sweet elixir
and I will rise toward you
It is hard to be softMom cutting Dad's hair in the kitchen. Feather voicesIt is hard to be soft7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because they are discussing matters heavier than water,
jarring scrapes when they move the chair.
Tufts of hair fall, touching the
curved blade of ear. It is sharper, as are our brains,
than you think, even as
the night velvets. It pads alongside my cat,
who sits behind the laundry room door and makes old saxophone sounds.
I slip inside to touch
the kitten scruf of his neck.
How difficult it is, to definitively love or hate,
when everything is so soft.
From where I sit there are no windows
and except for drooping eyelids I would not believe
in the moon. Or in the swift autumn nights
that come upon us like riders. And the hard
hands begin groping in my belly,
begging to be noticed. I do.
Healing My HeartHealing My Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Healing My Heart
I thought a day like today would never come
When a sincere smile finally broke through
And I've grasped onto this sense of freedom
When I forged this connection with you
I was so deep into it
Thinking I never would get out
Being stuck in the past has made me into this
But now I hold my head up instead of facing down
Because of this, I've realize there's a difference between my tears
I used to only shed the ones for all of the mistakes I've made
Which I've cried for all of those long, and lonesome years
Until today, so I'm overwhelmed by the relief you gave
Undone, unvexed, unbroken
The difference is the forgiveness
Unbecome, unsilenced, unforgotten
The pieces have become painless
I waited for a night like tonight to arrive
When I could finally sleep so peacefully
And for once I have never felt so alive
When I found myself dreaming faithfully
I had no choice but to force my own hand
So I took that mass of hurt and made
The Thing About ClichesI.The Thing About Cliches6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. Well throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keys, and drugs.
Wed find footprints in the sand and read angels into them. Wed collect rejected roses, tarnished rings, and hopeful held breaths where the tides washed them up, tie them up with ribbon, and cork it all away for someone else to worry about.
This is not a romance either.
So instead I baked coffee cake while it rained, and picked the wee