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beginningsHe sits at a computer screen in the early hours, tired, drained, with a crystallised tear resting on his right cheek. The light from the screen lights up his face, 4 day old stubble, heavyset eyebrows, nose slightly large, but offering character. His eyes are made up of rings of colour, from the pupil out, brown, green, blue, with many hues blurred in between. His face is kind, with a hint of mischief, but tainted with sadness and wisdom that a man of 22 should not have the ability to hold. It's one of those faces which will grow old with grace, which will fascinate young children, who'll gaze upon it with open eyes, reading it as though it ibeginnings3 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
NathanaelWolff's request 2The whisper of a cold breeze slithered down the stony hills and came to a swirling, dancing rest in the hollow between the hills. It shivered several of the needles in the tall pines and sent them spiraling to earth, broken. The breeze then spiraled out of the trees and died in the sudden clearing.NathanaelWolff's request 23 years ago in Settings More Like This
It was so still now that the man treading softly over the loam could almost hear the breeze's murdered victims drop to the forest floor. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and tried not to think of the single drop of cold sweat that had escaped his iron control to seep down his neck and between his shoulder blades. He took a silen
let it out."hey. welcome home." it's been a while, and i've missed you.let it out.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"thanks. it's good to be home." it's like i can breathe again.
"so..." i just want to say...
"so..." i just want to say...
"i--" ---
"i can't and i won't leave you again. there's so many things i want to say, but -- " basically, i love you.
"i love you too." and oh, how i do.
La paz que nos quedaLA PAZ QUE NOS QUEDALa paz que nos queda3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
La paz que tuvimos, la paz que nos queda y la que nos quedará… ese sentimiento de claridad y bondad, que me abraza y me acurruca en su regazo, envolviéndome en un halo de cariño. Cae su lágrima en mi piel, y resbala hasta mi pecho, se abre paso en mi corazón para ocupar ese hueco, aquel que se crea con los malos pensamientos, y sana mis heridas… y alivia mi angustia y dolor. ¿Por qué lloras, oh, mi precioso sentimiento? ¿No es cierto, que lo más puro lo contienen tus adentros? ¿Por qué sollozas, corazón, portadora de mi paz? ¿Acaso tus pesares y m
Contigo y sin ti"CONTIGO Y SIN TÍ"Contigo y sin ti3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Contigo,
en mi mente
y mis recuerdos.
Sin tí,
en mi vida
y en mi cuerpo.
La daga que parte
el corazón inerte,
la garra que ataca
constantemente.
La mano que oprime
mi aliento y garganta,
la boca que daña
mi oído y alma.
Es tu voz la que rompe,
la que quema mis recuerdos,
la que doblega sin piedad
mis más hermosos pensamientos.
Son tus ojos los que miran,
los que crean mi silencio,
los que quiebran con maldad
mi más puro sentimiento.
Y no estás,
y perturbas mis anhelos.
Y te vas,
destrozándome por dentro.
Contigo,
en mi mente
y mis recuerdos.
Sin t
El RegresoEL REGRESOEl Regreso3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Se frotó los ojos con los puños para despejarse después de una larga y provechosa siesta. Se levantó de la cama de un salto. Después, volvió a su habitación para vestirse.
En el pequeño piso en el que vivía de alquiler reinaba un silencio sepulcral, sólo roto por una pareja de gorriones que revoloteaban en torno a la ventana.
-Son las cinco de la tarde -se dijo con tono alegre, al tiempo que consultaba su reloj de muñeca-, y hace una tarde perfecta para volver al lugar donde perteneces.
Cargó sus maletas y su bolso torpemente. A pesar del paso de los años su torp
El callejon del miedoEL CALLEJÓN DEL MIEDOEl callejon del miedo3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Abrí los ojos dificultosamente al sentir el frío de los adoquines bajo mi cuerpo. Mis miembros, temblorosos, adormecidos y torpes comenzaron a reaccionar. Fruncí el ceño, mareada, y me puse en pie tambaleándome.
Capté el desagradable olor de la humedad e hice una mueca asqueada.
-¿Qué narices…? –murmuré.
Me encontraba en una especie de callejón cubierto por una densa neblina que descendía desde el cielo nocturno, zigzagueando sigilosamente.
Me froté los ojos una y otra vez. Los abrí y los cerré, parpadeé de forma insistente, pe
Always On This CarouselPrologueAlways On This CarouselPrologue3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Blood and Fire
Crimson liquid was everywhere. It gave off a nauseating feeling. Not so much from the smell but from the knowledge of where it came from. The liquid life that should have been sustaining people was instead pooled on the floor. Only one heart was still beating in the room, the heart of a man who had just walked in on a living nightmare. Ragged breath was coming from his mouth as he was frozen in place at the front door. His face was a mixture of horror and shock. Each heartbeat jolted a flood of adrenaline into his veins but the sight in front of him kept him frozen in place.
An eternity of a second later, he was jolted out of
Pass it on.Passing notes to each other in class.Pass it on.3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was new to this school. She was my friend. Yet I couldn't help but hate her.
I looked down at the note she handed to me.
I've known him since we were five. I've always had his love.
I sighed. She'd never know what he thought. They may have been friends in the past. But he had changed since then. I scribbled a note back. I tapped my pencil on the desk waiting for a reply. I thought about what I had said.
But he doesn't "love" you. He hardly "likes" you if anything.
She soon chuckled and started writing. It was less than a few seconds before I had the reply I was waiting for.
Haha. Girl, I don't
Dry IceImagine holding dry ice. It's so cold that it is burning your hands, it is so deadly that it's scarring your fingers. Yet even though you can let go at any moment, you hang on. Pleading that it doesn't go away, that you still feel the pain. Begging that nobody takes it off you, and that you can always feel it pressing against the tips of your fingers. Fingers that are numb, palms that are shaking. I don't know how I did it but I held onto the dry ice while watching you today. Knowing full well I could let go.Dry Ice3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Always This.How I hate him so.Always This.3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Always flirting,
Always awkward,
Always knowing what the other is saying....
....without saying a word.
This DiseaseI'm sick. Emphasis on "sick".This Disease3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sick and tired of your split second changes in personality, attitude and behavior.
Sick of our "each-other behavior" switching to your "friend behavior" in three short seconds.
Go damn ill about how you will constantly be gigging, smiling and all around flirting with me, to turn around and agree with the idiots who hate me.
Let's hope I'm better by the morning. But that's up to you.
Frost on the Windows(smiling) at the last chanceFrost on the Windows3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
writing out his last (words)
he puts this (finger) on the glass
ignoring the silent world
(finding) her last chance
breathing out her last (breath)
she puts her (lips) to the glass
ignoring the hurt that's left
(knowing) this is my last chance
holding out my last (grasp)
i put this (hand) on the glass
ignoring the coldest clasp
(reading) their last chance
breaking their last (stand)
you put this (fist) on the glass
ignoring its shattered past
Blues and Thorns.In a dimly lit corner,Blues and Thorns.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In a southern bar,
In the loneliest part
of town,
Where the wooden floor
creeks with every step,
I chose the far most
gloomiest table.
The juke box
playing random blues,
an antediluvian tending the bar,
who cannot remember
how to serve a customer.
I stare into space
playing with a thorn menu
my fingers running across holes
in the table.
I,
like this paper
have suffered.
Like the jukebox,
I'm old.
Like the bar,
I'm forgotten.
Like the owner,
I'm alone.
Peasant ProgramHave you tried DIETS and EXERCISE PROGRAMS to NO AVAIL? Are you tired of looking like a BARREL which has BURST ITS HOOPS and become some manner of WARPED CONSTRUCTION of WOOD and IRON??Peasant Program2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Why not try LIVING LIKE A MEDIEVAL PEASANT?
Learn why being OVERWEIGHT used to be a sign of OPULENCE! With THE PEASANT PROGRAM, you can experience LIVING AS THE THRALL OF A FEUDAL LORD!!
You'll start on a SPORADIC DIET of BEANS, TUBERS, BERRIES, and a VERY SMALL AMOUNT of SMOKED SAUSAGE that was cured APPROXIMATELY THREE MONTHS AGO! On this REVOLUTIONARY DIET, you'll be performing HARD LABOR: cutting down TREES with nothing but RUSTY IRON IMPLEMENTS, diggin
The Faces of TerrorismI'm sure many of you have been following the so-called "Porn Scanners" in the news, the privacy-violating scanners the TSA has placed in airports despite them being rejected by Congress and which probably have detrimental health effects. These scanners, while a problem, are merely indicative of a larger problem. They are a product of fear.The Faces of Terrorism2 years ago in Editorial More Like This
When asked to provide the definition of a terrorist, most people would probably say something about causing death and destruction for the purpose of intimidation. However, the true idea of a terrorist is a person who employs fear to accomplish a set of goals.
There are those within this country who use th
BloodBite deep into my neckBlood3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not as if to kill me
But as a sign of craving me
Showing that you want me
The harder you bite
The more I dig my nails into you
The harder I want to bite back
Showing that you excite me
Don't be afraid to draw blood
The sweet taste of passion
I won't hold back with you
So I don't expect you to with me
By: C Matthew Sieradzki 3-12-2010 1721
Invisible BlissA morning golden beam kisses the groundInvisible Bliss3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dewdrops shine on blades of grass
Clock strikes seven, breaks the silence
The town awakes
New dawn, new day
Time to get back working
Carrying on sweet memories
Of the weeks gone by
Building new castles in the sky
Carried on by the damp scent of dawn
Fantasies, promises, and hopes
All of them will last as long as twenty-four hours
Before being drowned in dusk
An endless magic circle
New ones coming, old ones going
...And it's so beautiful
An ever renewing little wonderful miracle
So often it happens, and goes unnoticed
And we voyagers in dreamland never wish to wake up
And see
What's
RachelPeople carry burdens with them, or so it is said. And that they were once visible to the unskilled eye in the form of stones. Everyone had their own. Different shapes. Different sizes. Just as everyone was different, they had their stones. The stones went with them wherever they went, lingering never too far away. Rachel was a girl, who lived during that time in a city. And it was a good city of culture and of life and of science and of art. Happy people they were in the city, so much she knew. And on the streets were people carrying their stones. Smiles walking everywhere. And Rachel also had a stone. But where others supported small grainsRachel3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
breakBreak my heartbreak3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Break my soul
Nothing about it
Leaves a hole
Take it away
Just stay right here
You’re the only thing keeping me
From all the fear
Break my world
Break my life
Nothing but you
Will ever make me suffice
Take me away
Far from here
You’re the only thing saving me
From every tear
You can break my heart
A thousand times
I swear to god
You’re worth any crimes
Take it away
Take it away from me
I’ll only get hurt
If you’re too far for us to be
MentirasTiempo atrás cuando el amor surgíaMentiras4 years ago in Other More Like This
Mi corazón, mi alma y mi emoción
Brillaban en una historia de amor
Mentiras, mentiras, mentiras, muchas más mentiras que ayer
Invente una novela de la tarde
Me metí en un agüero incontrolable
Vivía mintiéndome a mí
Y en mi penar, las lagrimas corrían
Un mar azul navegaba por mi piel
Mentiras, mentiras
No quiero verdad, solo mentiras
En las noches caminaba, no sabia donde estaba
Solo podía ver oscuridad,
la noche mi enemiga
O tal vez solo mi amiga, no entendía nada
La luna y el sol, las nubes y la lluvia
El odio y el amor, la ami
Another Rainy DayIt's happening again.Another Rainy Day4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I don't want to be me.
I don't want to be part of this world.
I'm tired of all this pain.
I can't stand it anymore.
The feelings are lost,
They aren't coming back.
The future is no longer clear.
I just want to be someone else.
And I know it won't last too long.
For this is just another rainy day.
my violet wayyou think you can play me like a toymy violet way5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
you think you can change me
you think its your way or the high way
i'll take the high way over you
any day
you think - you can change me
you think i will be you
well bu the end of the day
i'll show you my violet way
i may not be right all of the time
i screw up a lot,forget things
but that gives you no right to change me
i'll use my body to beat you down
you think you can fish me
but im a shark of my own destiny
i'll use the powerof my will
and burn you straight into hell
you think - you can change me
you think i will be you
well bu the end of the day
i'll show you my violet way
AloneAlone7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I sit here,
Alone,
Eating my poorly packed
Lunch, in this
Overcrowded cafeteria.
I'm always alone
At lunch; it's not a problem,
More like a benefit.
When I'm alone at lunch,
I can draw and write in peace,
Never having to focus on people.
The noise, usually, is quite like
A distant waterfall in the forest.
Poetry is my scented candle;
The meditation I partake in;
Drawing, too, in a way.
These things I do during lunch,
With boundless focus.
They make me feel better
By the time I return to my classroom,
When I walk through the
Long hallways, where
The football players roam,
Where I travel,
Alone,
With a peaceful feeling
Sta.sh
