The Spider And The FlyOne day, a fly got caught in a spider's web. As the spider came down to wrap its prey in web, the fly did some quick thinking.
"What a beautiful web you have made" commented the fly. "The design is simply breathtaking".
"Thank you" replied the spider, rather flattered. But she began to start spinning anyway.
"Your eyes!" cried the fly. "You have the most beautiful eyes of any creature I have ever seen. So red and shiny-"
The spider smiled, but did not stop in her spinning.
"You are so beautiful, you are fit to be queen" said the fly, now rather panicky.
"In fact," he continued, "my great-great-great grandmother has the most beautiful crown, made of real spider silk. It would fit you perfectly."
"A crown?" asked the spider, pausing now.
"Absolutely!" agreed the fly. "You must believe me, it is the most beautiful crown--encrusted with dew drops from a rose and the eyes of a butterfly. None but you are fit to wear it. I could bring it to you, if you would let me go for a moment to get it.
Nothing I Love MoreThere's nothing I love moreNothing I Love More4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
than the sight of soaring birds
at the crack of dawn
There's nothing I love more
than a glass of cold water
on a hot summer's day
There's nothing I love more
than the sound of the waves
at high tide
There's nothing I love more
than the laugh of a child
when I am frowning
There's nothing I love more
than raindrops on my window
with a hot cup of strong tea
There's nothing I love more
than my mother's smiling photo
when I am homesi
SanctuaryThere is no music playing for this soul to tapSanctuary4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Everything I've learned seems like a long thread that will snap
My discontentment, my loneliness deepens
With the brightness of the advancing spring
Since I am no longer a part of it's joy,
Or the warmth that sunshine ought bring
Every affection is like an aching nerve
Which music has always tended to serve
Passionate cries of imprisoned spirits
send tortured vibrations through me
Books are now barren source of comfort
This empty soul needs more to be free
In stories I search for what reality wont perceive
That there is some truth to the make believe
I can make dream worlds of my own
But no dream shall satisfy me now
I want the answers to the questions of life
Only that will pacify me now
Thus I yearn for wisdom, thus I in turn despise
A certain mirage that would now and then rise
What is real learning and true wisdom ?
Such as great men of wars and art learned-
The secret of life, by only the deepest
Of hearts is such understanding earned
The Other WomanI wish you could know how degrading it is, to be the other woman.The Other Woman4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
To have to meet him in secret, be the the one making all the excuses. To have all my plans foiled because of something you did or somewhere you wanted to go unexpectedly. It is not only frustrating, but so... demeaning. I have had to wait inside dark rooms till it was safe to come out, sneak out through back doors as though I was a crook and walk home by myself. I don't know why the both of us are putting up with it, or what eerie bond is keeping us tied in this unfaithful relationship.
He was talking on the phone and I peeked into his wallet. There were pictures of you. I wondered who he loved, me or you? If he loved you, why was he with me? If he loved me, why could not he leave you? I have asked him, but he never answers. Perhaps he has none.
My questions become thirstier. Why was he yours to the whole world, and only mine in secret meetings? Why were you sacred, wh
Gone With The WindI've packed aGone With The Wind3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
l i f e t i m e
in a 20 kg suitcase,
at a half an hour's notice
I've lived on the
e d g e
where it's easy to
and lose it all
I've been ruthlessly
j u g g l e d
by a cacophonous rickshaw
halfway across Karachi, and egg beaten
Stained in Sin i. [Cradle of the Unwanted One]Stained in Sin4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"We gather here on this blood red day, to mourn the death of all that was once good on this now grief stricken land. She is the Unwanted One, for her unforgivable crimes against humanity, her witchcraft and her association with the devil, she is sentenced to die a thousand deaths."
They asked for my blessing, but I could only share with them my curse.
ii. [A Thousand Deaths]
They say the devil is handsome in human form, but I know his twisted face well, his snake-like, merciless eyes haunt the remnants of my existence. If it a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, the sea is far less cruel. If you have dealt with the devil you will never be able to wash away the stain, you will never have anyone to blame but yourself.
"One more, one more crime could wash away all oth
Little Sally's Dirty FeetLittle Sally had a problem. Little Sally always had dirty feet. Her mother would clean them and clean them and clean them, but Little Sally would just go and get them dirty again. Her mother was a very clean person and always worried about her daughter. She could not understand why Little Sally always had such dirty feet. Why, she herself had come from a long line of clean people who would not have tolerated such dirty feet in the house. She must have gotten the genes from her father's side; Little Sally's mother would think to herself. Meanwhile, she would watch in agony as Little Sally would once again bring dirty feet into her spotlessly clean house.Little Sally's Dirty Feet4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Now Little Sally wasn't a completely dirty girl. She was always clean from head to ankle. Her only problem was that she loved having dirty feet. She loved wriggling her feet in mud. She loved the feel of mud between her toes. She could spend many a quiet hour sitting with her feet in mud, smiling to herself. She would wiggle her dirty t
Balance Of FateThe doctors tell me repeatedly she is lucky to be alive. I wish they wouldn't do that. I constantly dwell on the moment she will awake-she will ask me, where are her husband and son? And then what will I tell her? I wonder if she was really lucky. I wonder why God chose her to be alive, but I know better then to question the Divine Will. She is oblivious now to everything but the physical pain.Balance Of Fate4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When I am alone with her, I press my fore fingers to her cheek and feel her rubbery numb skin cold beneath mine, I bring my lips close to her ear and whisper to her "don't wake up just yet".
The doctors say her bandages will come off tomorrow. They will give her medicine to ease the pain. There would be less pain if she didn't wake up at all. They tell me she will open her eyes soon, that I must stop worrying, the danger is over. I am not listening to them. I can already feel her blazing amber eyes boring into mine- reproachful, searching for the truth. She has always be
GREAT WHITE MOONI am the one who keeps awake to watchGREAT WHITE MOON4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Clouds drift across the great white moon
The sandman often withholds from me
Beads from which dreams are sewn
My memories of love haunt me
Still pure--like a new born dove
Great white moon with me tonight
Speak to me from the skies above
For so long I have been suffocated
By the loneliness I cannot breathe
I open the window to let in air, but
The night stares blindly back at me
His ghost stands in the dusty curtains
Then disappears without a trace
Like clouds across a pool, I read
His thoughts across his ghostly face
I know him well, I remember him
His eyes I once thought divine
Once when I prayed for his heart
Believing it could be mine
Staring at the ghost fondly thus
What vision should I see?
None, but my own pale yellow face
That grins and mimics me
Clouds shift across the great white moon
I listen to the ticking of the clock
The calendar says a year has passed
Changed only is the door's lock
Sleep finally comes to close my eyes
Asleep, in t
Look At The WorldLook at the world. It hasnt really changed that much. It looks much the same as it always has. Its still spinning, which might actually surprise a few people. True, therere a few more brown patches, that sandy colour where there arent any trees but where there should be. But theres still green too, theres still white, the poles are still hanging in there; and theres still one hell of a lot of blue!Look At The World7 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
Look at all the countries. Or maybe not all of them, actually, because I cant tell you what happened in most of them. In any of them except my country. See, after the Explosion, everything, everywhere went crazy. Wars spread and they just kept getting worse and worse. Then the news basically stopped, because we shut off our borders. We didnt let anyone come from Across the Seas, didnt let anyone come from the North; we wrapped ourselves in a big cocoon, hoping that might help. So I really dont know what happened anywhere
DarknessDarknessDarkness7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Im sitting in the frozen heart of darkness
Waiting for the light to find me here
I wont ever surrender to the shadows
Even if Ill never leave this place
My hope is all what feeds me
And trust alone is keeping me alive
But drawing breath is getting harder
With suffocating blackness covering me
Eternal night is gathering around me
Closing in with every blink
Nightly horrors are crawling up my skin
And start to seep in trough my eyes
The icecold poison fills my veins
Freezing me to the pitchblack ground
The first dark drop does reach my heart
The moment sun approches me
The thin, thin rays caress my limbs
Melt the icecrystals on my skin
And chase the night behind the horizon
But salvation came too late
The whispering shadow had touched my soul
And it will stay for the rest of my life
So that even in the brightest sunshine
The cold dark will creep through me.
SleepConsciousness is tired. It has been a long day.Sleep4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He is thankful for his final coffee break, even if caffeine isn't what he wants right now.
Draining a glass of milk he glances at the clock,
Not much more work will get done today. May as well call it a night.
Haphazardly he bundles the remaining sheaves
Of scattered thoughts into drawers and filing cabinets;
He performs the usual closing time routine.
A quick brush of the white paving stones outside,
A wipe of the facade.
He closes and lashes the shutters
He shuts down the terminals
And turns off the light.
Only then does the subconscious emerge.
Lighting a candle,
He opens in its flickering light his briefcase
And releases the dreams.
What a Poem Should BeA poem should be new,What a Poem Should Be4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
New as "spring" is not.
It should be incandescent and alive,
Spinning and mad as a Hatter.
It should be chalkboard dreams
And tea cup wishes that
Contain tears that salt your Earl Gray.
It should be an umbrella smile
With glittering jump rope arms.
It should be groaning with delicious, sibilant words
Like decadence, luxurious, lucious.
It should roll and tumble
Like a silvery-moon-pulled tide
Foam whispering, breathing, breaking
Along a pebbled beach of words.
Swindled and ScornedI commit a sin, I bear its wrathSwindled and Scorned4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With every breath I take
I'd gladly walk this dreary path
To leave flowers in my wake
As I move from place to place
All my memories grow sore
Stop long enough to love a face
My heart can take no more
I have a debt of pain, I want to pay
Revenge is often in my eyes
My heart was never hard to sway
But I hated her, and her lies
I would have loved, had they let
But all they knew was hate
The force of it I'll never forget
I grew up with such a fate
In devil's eyes if a red flame kindled
Though it may be a disguise
With little difficulty is my heart swindled
A simple steady guise
I would dangers dare, omens defy
Alas, but to be scorned
Now love, you may pass me by
Never again, I have sworn
Resolutions last in great intensity
Occassionaly for hours at a time
But the need of being loved
Is the greatest need of mine
It is etched into my being
It wrestles with my pride
My superior power of misery
Cannot cast it aside
Dream of bright clouds, a silver line
My Last Letter To YouIm sitting here with the pen in my handMy Last Letter To You6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And wonder what to write....
My head is filled with cobwebs
Or at least so it feels
I watch how inks seeps out of my pen
Collects at the tip and drops on the paper;
Blood in prussian blue;
The tiny lake of color seems
To create lines on the white.
I dont remember that clearly
When it started to form words for my eyes...
All I remember is the point where I looked down
And saw my page covered with words
And another page, and another...
Word after word and no memory
Where they all came from
It was as if
They had floated out of my pen
Without me doing anything
But I didnt read them over
I knew what they meant
They where my written whispers
My choked screams
All the words that had crossed my mind
But never came to be spoken
Captured on these pages.
I went outside with them
And burned them,
Hoping that with the smoke
All my words would rise to you.
DistressI cannot breathe,Distress4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
nor can I find
on my own
I'm finding it
hard to say
my final goodbye,
let alone face
within me is dead,
and it is masked
by a river of
April 28th, 2010
equinox.her name was october, butequinox.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she was born in november
and painted sweet like summer.
she said someday she would become a masochistic poet or maybe an offstage actress, because she wasn't good for much else.
she said someday she would stop dreaming of breaking her promises to the dead, because if they gave up on her, she'd have nothing left.
she said someday she'd wake up to a nightmare instead of falling asleep to one; she figured maybe that would be easier, because you can't scream and cry with your eyes open wide.
(honey, they'll think you're crazy.)
she said someday she would figure out if she was a libra or a scorpio or a goddamn sagittarius; it didn't really matter, but she just wanted to know the stars as well as they knew her.
she said someday she would become Satan's asylum, and demons would dwell in the deepest crevices
Dear AliceDear Alice, he wrote.Dear Alice4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I saw you today. You were walking down the street, and you looked sad. I smiled at you, but you didn't see. I know you didn't mean anything by it, but it made me sad. I know that you would have a beautiful smile. You look nice in blue. Love, Thomas.
He carefully folded the letter into thirds, walked to the door, and pushed it through the slot. Then he smiled, and turned back to his work, hoping that it might help her find her own smile.
The next day, he saw her again, walking down the street. He smiled again, and this time she saw him, but she merely nodded a hello, and kept going. His expression of joy slipped a little, and he sat down on a park bench nearby and pulled out a spiral bound notebook.
Dear Alice, he wrote.
You were sad again today. The sun was out and a butterfly flew past you, but I don't think you saw it. It was pretty, just like you. The sky matched the colour of your eyes. I think they would sparkle as bright as diamonds i