The Blame of Copper and ViolinHer eyes are downcast, and her mouth a jagged line, "Why did you do it....?"The Blame of Copper and Violin4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His perfect lips moved slowly, forming hard and uncaring words which crashed into her heart like boulders, "What did I do?"
A cold tear rolled down her cheek, her heart was no longer a roaring furnace, it couldn't make her tears warm, "Why did you kill him?"
Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Why did you kill him?"
She leapt to her feet, an ember of indignation flared faintly in her voice, "I never killed him! That was you! Just you! I loved him, and held him, and kissed him and danced with him and-"
"And never cared enough to notice the colour of his eyes?" he smirked, "You didn't love him. For you he was just there. Then when you tired of him, when he became inconvenient and awkward, you just dropped him in the mud. You poured vodka into his young soul, you corrupted his ears with nightmarish tales, and who pick
i could breathe fireshe was a marvel,i could breathe fire4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
something so complex
that there is no design
intricate enough to
symbolize the contradictions
of her body
i felled her,
i felt her
a writhing embrace,
she was a bird
a warming feather,
she was a breath
fresh air on a stagnant day,
a beauty unlike rose petals,
more like sandstone
as i watched the moon
give birth to the fire
of her skin.
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the KnightNot My Kind of Fairy Tale2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,
drizzlesAfter the rain, the condensationdrizzles4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rises from the sodden road,
beginning its course back to heaven.
I'm going to meet you in a little while,
but now I'm driving under rusty streetlights,
eating fog and fireflies with my windshield.
You were like the headlights crawling up
the other side of the hill and flooding
my world with white before driving by.
There's a tightness in my throat all
the time now because
I know you're leaving me and
there's nothing I can do
I Want YouI want you when the shades of night are falling,I Want You3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as purpling shadows drift across the land.
When sleepy birds to loving mates are calling;
I want the soothing comfort of your hand.
I want you when the stars do shine above me,
and the heavens are filled with bright moonlight.
I want you with your arms and lips to love me;
Throughout the wonder-watches of the night.
I want you in my dreams where I'll remember,
all the lingering kisses that you take.
With all your gentle ways so sweetly tender;
I want you in the morning when I wake.
I want you when the day is at its noontime,
sun-steeped and quiet, or drenched in rain.
I want you when its warm, and springtime;
or when the winter winds do blow again.
I want you when your soul is thrilled with passion,
or whenever you are weary, or depressed.
I want to love you in a lazy slumberous fashion;
for my senses need the haven of your breast.
I want you my darling through every season.
I want you with a frown, or a smile.
I want you more then rhyme
The art and technology of lifeEach day we awaken without a second thought. We complain of oversleeping, of under sleeping, of not sleeping right and contemplate getting just a few more minutes of rest. We go throughout our day, routines, seeing to our needs, responsibilities and wants. We think we are so aware, but are we really?The art and technology of life4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
So seldom do we think of that works beneath the skin. From flesh to marrow, our body functions in ways unseen to us. Ways often forgotten until something goes wrong. As we eat our breakfast, such a simple action, the complexities of our body begin to go to work. Saliva flowing to break down our food, the muscles needed to swallow, how our esophagus contracts to push the food to the next stage of digestion. Yet we do not realize these things until we choke, it is then we become painfully aware, but the realization is often forgotten just as quickly.
The rhythmic beating of a heart, blood rushing through our veins, unfelt until we feel for a pulse, unseen until we are cut. A constant transfe
PerspectiveThe few that know can be silencedPerspective4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So you saw a picture of me having an affair
So you saw me bribe a judge in my favor
So you saw a video of me making threats to other countries
So I passed a bill to get rid of your freedoms
So I made choices against all I said I stood for
So I made promises I had no intention of keeping
So I cheated and schemed to keep you all trapped in a broken system
So I'm not fit to run a country, let alone my own life
The rest fall swiftly towards the maw.
Regret: AphroditeRegret: Aphrodite9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
"Regret!? And why should I regret my gift?
My love and beauty all desire - all!"
Then prettily the goddess puffed and sniffed,
"I'm seafoam-sired: immortal! Not a doll!
And yet you'd trap me with your chain and ball.
This marriage set by Zeus: a dusty joke:
and now you'd wrap me in your net? The gall!
The gall! The gall! I'm weary of your smoke,
the endless fumes of forge and iron and coke,
your wounded eyes that only wish to serve!
Then serve me now! My passions have awoke."
She gasped as coarsened hands explored each curve.
Then gasped again as Aphrodite came,
and fleeting thought, "I wish he wasn't lame!"
The form is of course, a Spenserian sonnet, which interleaves the rhyme scheme of lines from one stanza to the next.
B r e a t h e.He sent me love through his soft kissesB r e a t h e.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
that make the world seem alive again.
Love Me, DarlingLove me, darlingLove Me, Darling3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For I am yours
Please let me in
And knock down the door
The door that separates us
The door that keeps me away from you
Without you darling, my world would be nothing
Without you, I wouldn't know what to do
It pains me that we're not in the same room
You being far away
If only if i could I would run to you
Run to your room and stay
Without you, darling I cannot be
Anything or anyone
I'd be rather off dead
Without you, i''d be done
Done with life's gifts and desires
Trying to find someone new would be wrong
I'd be done with everything good
And it wont take long
It wont take long for me to go
If I'm not in your arms
So, darling, please, open the door
And let me live in your arms
The UnicornThe darkness was absolute. He could not tell whether his eyes were open or closed.The Unicorn8 years ago in Humor More Like This
The voice sounded as though it came from everywhere. He listened for a source, but silence followed. He didn't even hear himself breathe.
A small point of light appeared in front of him. He stared at it, finally something to focus on, and witnessed it grow larger. The white split into colors and arched downward, and he finally realized that the light simply hadn't expanded; it was traveling toward him.
He took a step back as the rainbow landed in front of his feet.
I have been waiting for you, Charles.
Another flash of light brought his attention back upward to what was likely the apex of the brilliant arch. A horselike figure stood at attention, a soft glow coming from a long, golden horn perched upon its head. As it descended, more ethereal light seemed to emanate from its silver mane and hooves. Its four legs tread with a fluid grace as it reached the end of th
Retrograde Scents from inside the suit intertwined their intentions with the sights of tangled and tessellated hair illumed by firefly LED's, spiking my circulation with memories and murmurs of dopamine.Retrograde4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I took her by the gaze; she steered her sight away from mine. I led her through a glance that involved no scuffling of hands.
She was one of two wayward strangers passing in the cosmos; two separate glances met as objects in motion tending to motion. People aren't the same however.
Drifter was the term we were known as, people cast off of vessels and ships, mostly by accident, condemned to trudge about the universe until starvation kicked in or their oxygen-starved filters were finally incapable of operating. My unplanned departure from the mysteriously flaming
ReapA grin spreadsReap4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
across the visage feared by most,
and questioned by all others.
A pungent aroma
has been been detected;
Perceived as any other,
she is like every other ever encountered:
emotional, confused, and questionable in character.
Her charcoal and ebony hair,
resembling electrical wire,
is a frame to present the masterpiece that is her face:
Ivory skin, green eyes,
and a formerly crease-free complexion.
But it seems,
fate sealed her destiny.
The piercing light of a fiery sunset,
cast shadows on her decrepit form;
but she never shuddered.
I looked on,
as the earth she stood atop melted into abyss,
and began consuming her.
In the midst of her depletion,
unlike countless others;
she looked me in the eyes,
and I was affected.
She was left,
like those before her;
merely a memory.
BrackishAfter the wet season, beforeBrackish4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the midsummer night's drought,
I flight for the floodplains, where
the northern downpour bleeds out
and sweeps its love to the mouth
of my lungs. I sleep in the crux
of an oxbow, let my dreams flux
and flow fractured, deltaic. For this
is the way I piece myself apart,
a resolution, my absolution
in a new avulsion.
During the day, I move south
towards the river mouth, picking
pebbles, coral fangs from the riverbed.
A loose tooth is a common truth
in these parts. Bones are febrile,
eyelashes are made of chalk, salt.
Tears turn brackish. They cake
and crack on the flats of my hands.
This is my Pangaea,
this swollen geography,
this slacken land.
The point of no return.
Here, all else ends.
By dusk I meet the saltmarsh
and dehusk, grow halophytic
in the nightlight. I pull out
my hair, my fingernails, and
fill the gaps in my spine
with reed rhythms, saline.
The final rite: turning flesh to grass.
Tomorrow, morning mist
will drag the whitewash back,
ashes to ash.
Poets make good liars.She always walks alone broken and lost,Poets make good liars.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
but a lot of people call her cold
because she's never been in love.
At night, she can't sleep anymore
as she just lies awake day-dreaming.
Poets make good liars.
RikuXSora:Chapter 1Once in a bedroom, under the covers slept a peaceful teenage boy when suddenly the alarm went off beside his bed. He slowly got up and shut the alarm off. He lifted his covers with his hand and looked at the time. It read 07:30. He moaned and took off all the covers. He shivered from the sudden coldness. He slowly got up and put on his uniform. He sighed.RikuXSora:Chapter 18 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Great just when I thought I hated my life I have to wear this dorky uniform all year! He put on his tie and yawned. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He looked at his spikey brown hair. He picked up his comb but put it down again.
Why should I even bother? His mother then called him.
Sora come on! Breakfast is on the table! Sora grumbled and walked down the spiral staircase. He plonked down on his chair and rested his head on one hand. He yawned again. His mother put down pancakes and syrup. Sora smiled.
Thanks Mom. She smiled then walked away. Sora almost fell asleep on h
Why Akatsuki shouldn't drink“Tobi’s back!” The masked nin shouted. “And he’s got the booze. Can Tobi have some this time? Please, please, please?”Why Akatsuki shouldn't drink1 year ago in Humor More Like This
Pein sighed. He didn’t want his evening of drinking to be ruined. “Of course you can Tobi.”
Deidara spoke up. “Do not give Tobi alcohol, un. Whenever he has any substance like that in his system, he goes insane.”
Konan hit Deidara over the head with a vase. “Leader-Sama said its okay, so shut the hell up. Now let’s get our drinky on!”
She pulled a beer from one of the six packs, smashed it open, and began chugging it. Everyone else followed in pursuit.
“I bet I can drink the most beer!” Shouted Itachi. “Uchiha’s can hold their alcohol better than any other people.”
“You F*cking wish.” Replied Hidan.
Two hours, and eight six packs later, the group was thoroughly drunk.
“Yo-you know what, Tobi?” Deidara stut
Heart BreakAnd so I begin to pack away my hopes.Heart Break3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dreams tuck inside dreams.
Fantasies are painful to unpin-
But after a brief struggle,
they come away with minimal bloodshed.
I fold up memories and compress them between my fingers,
Forcing them to fit into the back of my mind.
I polish regrets and wear them as medals-
Their spikes digging into my chest
As constant but necessary reminders.
Next I haul out that cracked, warped mirror
And stare silently at the image of myself
Created over the past two years.
A shard of Vanity,
A reflection of Self-Doubt,
A glimpse of Paradise Lost.
Last and by no means least comes-
No, no ready yet.
I drink water as if it is wine
And then wish it was poison.
My mind numbs deliciously for a moment,
For a moment I forget.
What was next?
In all her scarlet, dripping glory.
Weather ManCast iron clouds cascadeWeather Man4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Down like an air raid
The sky is grey like TV static
I raise two fingers like rabbit ears
And try to receive your signal
I can feel my fillings picking up AM radio
The weather carries an uncharacteristic sense of urgency.
The weatherman is screaming.
His voice is hoarse, his breathing shallow.
There is a storm coming.
That lysergic acid rain may fall
And rend my flesh away
Hot and humid as a fever
And the hallucination with it
It is raining sideways now,
The weatherman doesn't tell the wind
Which way it's gonna blow
Distance exaggerated by the damp air,
I am an island today.
I kiss the emptiness where you should be,
But I taste only salt water.
When I told you you made me feel
Like New Orleans in two thousand and three,
I didn't always mean in a good way
A blown away way.
I feel the saline in all my open wounds.
Sharks are strolling down Bourbon Street,
Their dorsal fins indistinguishable from the shore break.
The bodies are floating to the
KnowledgeIn a fever dream, black dooms descendingKnowledge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He lies rapt in stupor.
The windows tilt from his halo, the dry
heat ticking, each death rattle measures light into
reflections- form a periscope. One eye is all
that is needed to see. People
stutter along streets, gloom draped. Voices
soften and stretch, heard through memory and dreaming-
one hundred shadowy watchers meld to tarmac. Only one enters.
Yard lights convulse, scald twilit moments, birds
settling on flares. He blinks,
old as time- skin a coral of waxes, leather from his own glow. Eyes,
molten yolks still glimmer beneath lids, fat sunken. She watches,
notes of orange blossom form
a noose: all her palettes collide. She mothers
all earth- cannot . A beginning with no end, future, past.
Roots run transatlantic, languages bud- tiredness. Immortal,
he doesn't breathe.
He wakes to light dappled through glass and birch.
He was the oldest and the first,
his house heavy with rotting decades. TV
translated static into prayers, sun-blea