Leaves Of DanceAutumn leavesLeaves Of Dance5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A beat of
I twist the pen
In my hand.
Are falling again.
Winter is coming
Ink starts to
In my head.
Hands and hair
In their hair
Each to a different beat.
By the fated
It can be the
Inspiration can give you
The feeling of
With a spark
That you don't
quietquiet1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
no matter how much you want to bloom
sometimes the season doesn't let you
flower against an autumn
crumbling from dried skies
disintegrating into thousand pieces
of broken leaves
but a sore winter
Walking toward LightWalking toward Light2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the flame of salvation
sparks a supreme light
at the highest point
where wings of freedom dance
endlessly on a peaceful song
I am determined to cross
the mountains of fallen desires
with a wand of my consciousness
walking me through slippery rocks
and naked feet leading me
against the acute path
destined for my journey
the garb of my wisdom
protects my soul
from the demon of temptations
that follows me to distract
my attention set on divine
and the chants
of ancient scriptures
swirl at back of my neck
echoing good old lessons
the absolute balance
VII. Without daring to say a word.VII. Without daring to say a word.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Without daring to say a word.
There are fragile words
Which form outlines
Of a vulnerable life.
In the autumn colors
Disturbed by the noise
Of the rain on windows.
At the end of the day, the somber
Reality becomes a burden.
This woman is invaded by anxiety
Her tired spirit, on the alarming
Silence of the language, is slowly
Dying on this kiss of the other one.
He, who believes with his smile
To understand everything
by watching at her crying.
He, with his stupid words, he hammers
The commonness with his unsightly facies,
His absent glance in front of her who doubts
In the gust of feelings.
Quiet, he falls asleep,
she stares at him
Silently with sadness,
108801PLANESCAPE108801PLANESCAPE9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your shiver-smile is exultant.
i thought that
while i waited for the
suns to fall,
i would sing quietly
of the planescapes;
and how we, hand in hand
held the rising
jewels of the eternal apex
in that void, brimming with
life and interstellar
"your shiver-smile is exultant,"
i breathed in your ear
while you frosted over
and when again the suns
did climb to their zenith,
we were seen
as nothing less than
made of superstrings
How Draco Defeated Harry PotteHow Draco Defeated Harry Potte4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Summary: Sometimes the simplest requests can stupefy us all. onelols-shot. Not slash, just involves Harry and Draco
They were at it again.
Their satchels and books were scattered across the hall, accompanied among them were the gasps and startled looks of their peers who just stood about, gaping on as the two faced off.
And, oh look, there goes his wand. Right out of his hand. Over to Potter. Bloody hell, Draco swore to himself.
"I've had it with your insults, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, keeping his wand leveled at the blond. "One more word about Ginny or her family and I'll hex you so bad your mum won't even recognize you!"
Draco started to mumble to himself, "At least I have a-"
Harry's eyes narrowed further, green passion alight within them. "What was that!"
Draco clamped his mouth shut, thinking he ought to change tactics if he wanted to survive this, especially when his wand was otherwise indisposed. T
V. Poetic hymnV. Poetic hymn3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
While imagination takes shape,
At the bottom of a spirit, creativity,
Sometimes win by its originality,
Or the authenticity of pure feeling,
And touches the poetry of the heart.
With sound words,
About the wealth of the style,
The instinctive hatching of talent,
Made relive the purity of language,
Towards the correctness
where the rhythm harmonizes.
So be free in the expression,
Give to the writing an alchemy,
That touches the silence of a soul.
But under the impulses of moderation,
The shocking dreams are banned,
Such a sepulchre of an illustrious unknown artist,
Where the work dies on this ghost ship.
where we put down the intellect,
Papers are banished,
First Year: The SortingAs the train came to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, Rose Weasley brushed the last few crumbs from her grey skirt and pulled her coal-black robe more closely around her. Scorpius stood up too, and Rose frowned as she saw he was taller than her. She was taller than all the boys her age, and she didn't like change that much.First Year: The Sorting4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She hustled Spider back in his cage, much to his protest, and shuffled out into the busy corridor. Scorpius followed and tightened his cloak as the cold air bit into his skin. They both hobbled out into the station, and Rose watched in slight disgust as she saw all the different people walk past. There were Gryffindor boys with their red-and-gold ties around their heads running around, there were Slytherin girls tying their ties into bows around their necks and adjusting their jumpers so they looked good. There were also the quieter people, like the Hufflepuff's who jovially walked by talking animatedly to their colleagues. Ravenclaw residents were also quieter but- fra
Pokusy. II.Pokusy. II.4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Nie mogła usiedzieć w spokoju po wyjściu Fenrisa.
Próbowała wszystkiego nawet pisania jakichś bzdur do swego dziennika (do którego namówił ją Varrik, jeden z przyjaciół nieokiełznany krasnoludzki bajarz i miłośnik dobrego trunku; zresztą, który krasnolud odmówiłby jakiegokolwiek alkoholu ). Zdążyła w krótkim czasie poprzestawiać meble (a przynajmniej te lżejsze, czyli w zasadzie przez dobrą chwilę pastwiła się nad krzesłem i biurkiem, ogromne, dębowe łoże czy szafy nie wchodziły w grę); zerwała całą pościel i koce na podłogę po to tylko, by ułożyć je na nowo. Kiedy jednak zabrała się za porządkowanie skrzyni, gdzie miała wszelkie graty, które zdążyła ze sobą zabrać podczas ucieczki z Lothering - za
VI. PoetryVI. Poetry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Poetry is the blood
That makes my veins spring
It is the life that escapes
In the big broth of my efforts
It is my way of behaving
To fight the hatred
It is to refuse to undergo
It is my human nature
It is my way to quiver
Words, like some tunes.
It will break its chains
These chains of incoherence
These chains of ignorance
These chains where from freedom
Out of our fearful wanderings
The exceptional appears
Flowers of unfaithful rows
Making the immanence spring
Smiling the reality
Far from the artillery which think
Of their subtleties
Impose our pace
Make roar out the rainbow
Because the intolerance
Who wants us so cruel
Because of our unconsciousness
We want to remain perpetual.
Cannot die the sufferings
But poetry makes it beautiful
Such an evidence
Such a watercolor
And the brushes which dance
On our lives sparks,
Make the consciousness shine
Of our individual
Clamors and silences
When nights hitch us
In our dreams o
IX. I am a poetIX. I am a poet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a poet
I am a poet
I do regret,
Young person without talent,
Roaming in the wind
My verses empty
Themselves of their acid
My feather sinks
On a grey ground,
Earth without ages,
Roaming in the course of pages.
I am a poet
I do regret,
Young person without talent,
Roaming in the wind
The moon is full
I paint without trouble.
And this night,
Everything ran away
Perfect USUKHey dad look at mePerfect USUK4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
Do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do?
'Cuz it hurst when you disapprove all doing
It was all part of the plan. Well, that's what he'd tell himself every night. Yes, every night when he would break out into a cold sweat, wake up screaming, his whole body trembling. It just wasn't fair, really. Why did he have to leave? Why was he such a damn fool? He had everything that he ever wanted, right at his finger tips: Food, shelter, a person that loved and accepted him. And what did he do? He threw it all down the damn drain.
Yes, he threw it all away. His life, which was once 'perfect' was now like living in a constant hell. He awoke slowly, looking at the little alarm clock that sit on his nightstand. The American sighed, grabbing Texas, and sliding it into place on the brim of his nose. Alfred threw off the comforters, glancing at the soaked sheets.
The nightmares w
Remus' FanboyA/N: Remus/Sirius slash hintRemus' Fanboy4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Word Count: 936
All was quiet in the Hogwarts' library. Most of the students were studying or writing essays for a class. But there was one table in the very back that was doing something very different.
"But how would we get in?" Remus asked for the third time that afternoon. The Map was lying on the table before the four friends and all eyes were on the Slytherin common room. There were four different sets of footprints there, but the boys were only interested in one. Those of Severus 'Snivellus' Snape.
"You could always give us the pass-" James started to say, giving his friend the most charming smile he could, but was silenced with a quick spell. The smile vanished and he glared harshly at the other boy.
Remus set his wand on the table next to the Map with a sigh. "I've already told you, I will not give it to you when I know you'll use it to your advantage before we can actually pull the prank."
"But you know we won't," Sirius reasoned, sco
CuriousCurious3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He was curious about the scars.
Corso had spent enough time with Silver and other smugglers, scoundrels, and mercenaries that he knew the rules that came with the life. He knew you let the past stay the past and didn't dig up what someone else wanted to stay buried. And he was fine with that. If he started asking Silver about her past, his would be fair game for the redheaded smuggler, and that was a wound he didn't particularly want to tear open again. Not yet, at least.
He didn't need to know what sentimental reason made the Captain keep carrying that old, beat-up blaster in an ankle holster when she'd bought--or found--and sold ones five times better without batting an eye. He didn't care how she'd developed such a warped sense of humor, and he wasn't terribly curious about jobs she'd had in the past--intriguing as some of her "old friends" they'd run into had made a couple of said jobs sound.
But he was curious, almost to the point of distraction, about the trio of scars tha
Just One TimeFace to face, skin on skinJust One Time6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Holding close, well see who wins
Touching you, touching me
Sweet release, feel so free
As you gently kiss my lips,
I begin to rock my hips
A frantic rhythm has begun
Things are starting to get fun
Joined together, we are one
Neither wants to be out done
We both utter soft, small moans
To be replaced by vocal groans
Slowly coming to an end
As we start to round the bend
Lay my head against your neck
The once-clean sheets are now a wreck
A Little Christmas MiracleTony shot impatient glances at his five hundred dollar watch every thirty seconds.A Little Christmas Miracle3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The meeting lasted for more than two hours now and there was still no end in sight. And seriously, who would hold a board meeting a day before Christmas? Sure, Tony always buried himself in work and projects during this time of the year. But that was then and now Tony was a different man. He was a husband and father now and he wanted to be with his loved ones, where he was needed. Where he belonged.
And not here in L.A. with these grumpy old men, talking about stockholdings, company fusions and whatnot.
Finally the head of the meeting lifted from his chair and gathered his notepad and pen.
Time to go. Tony thought and bounced happily off his seat.
'Let's take a break then. Be back in fifteen minutes.' Mr. Stanson, the head of the meeting and a critical pain in Tony's ass, said. The rest of the board members nodded and murmured in agreement.
Tony groaned and grabbed his phone to call Steve in a quiet corn
His PresenceEveryday, I see him.His Presence4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The second my eyes lock onto him,
A rage burns in the heart of my chest.
I want to hurt him,
He's no good to me.
But there's no escaping him.
There's no elusion possible.
He finds his way back to me.
His presence is my downfall,
I cannot better what he can do.
It's embarrassing to be near him
And know I am less worthy.
But when he's not there,
My body aches for him.
There's no way away,
He must always be close.
This passion to be rid of him
But also to be close to him,
His existence pains me
After the WarDraco shook violently as the dementors deposited him in the chain covered chair that sat on the cold stone floor before the Wizimagot. He knew what they were going to say. They were going to find him guilty of aiding the dark wizard Voldemort, of attacking innocents and even using the Imperius and Crutiatus curse against his fellow wizards. Punishment, life in Azkaban, slowly losing his mind and soul.After the War5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The worst part is that he had never done any of those things. Not willingly at least. He had been a child. His parents had told him to. The Dark Lord had threatened him. He'd had no choice! But they wouldn't believe that. They wouldn't believe a criminal.
In front of him the new Minister of Magic was reading his charges and the evidence against him. Draco didn't hear any of it until the shadowy man asked "Is there anyone here who will speak in Mister Malfoy's defense?"
Draco almost laughed. Defense? Ha! Anyone who would defend him was dead or in Azkaban themselves. Both of his parents, Be
The Intuition"Welcome to Intuition. Please choose your environment."The Intuition5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Intuition had revolutionized the world. It was a computerized house straight out of a science fiction novel, and since its invention no one ever ventured outside. Why would we? At the touch of a button we could be at the beach, or on top of the Eiffel Tower, or in the rainforest. We never worried about sunburn all our light was artificial. Our Intuition houses had no windows, but we didn't care. We hardly ever saw our real walls anyway. Our ceilings turned into skies, our floors imitated earth, and there was even a 'fresh air package' (Buy now to get the freshest air available puffed directly into your house!).
We could talk to family and friends in our social room their image would appear full size on the wall. Our kitchens cooked our meals for us, and our libraries read books to us. There was even a gym in every house.
I had been a preteen when The Intuition was invented. Always geeky
Drarry - UsedToday had been a typical one. Draco had gone through his classes glaring at Blaise and Harry as they passed notes in all the classes they had together. It wasn't fair at all that Blaise had gotten to Harry first. Blaise knew how Draco felt about Harry and then just went and took the Gryffindor for himself! He remembered gripping his quill tightly as he had watched a blush creep up Harry's face when he had read one of the notes. Why couldn't Draco make Harry blush like that? What did Blaise have that he didn't? Draco rounded the corner and both of his hands curled into fists as he took in the sight before him. Blaise had Harry pinned to the wall, tongue down Harry's throat and hand in his robes. Draco felt a white hot anger boiling deep with in him, and it took everything he had to turn away and walk back down the hallway without pulling out his wand. He headed for where he usually did after an emotionally exhausting day: the bathroom. Maybe that ghost would be there to talk to him abouDrarry - Used4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Midnight LoversIt's as if the world around them has frozen, this single moment that they're sharing, having stopped time. The moonlight, floating in through the balcony doors, has bleached the room, painting it in shades of monochrome blacks and whites. The hesitant breeze, strokes the curtain, thrown back from the open doors, the way the back of his hand is trailing her cheek.Midnight Lovers5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her wide eyes, like a fawn's, are staring up at him, completely vulnerable, but telling him she's giving herself to him, all in one glance. Another whispered kiss is transferred from his lips to her jaw line, as his hands trail down her body, fluid curves bared only for him.
His arm wraps its way around her waist, like the wind curling loving fingers around their nude bodies, and he lowers her to the bed. Kisses settle along her neck, as if they belong on the planes of her satin skin, and in the hollows of her collarbone. Her sweeping, dark hair, painted charcoal by the night, is fanned out beneath her head, as her cheeks blus
Happily ever After? part 1One cold winter evening, One week after returning home to Pallet Town, 14 year old Ash Ketchum and his buddy, Pikachu were walking along the nearby river. Around the corner, by the river, sat on the rocks was 16 year old Gary Oak, staring out at the blue water. When Ash saw Gary sitting alone on the rocks, he walked slowly up to him and said Hey Gary, Gary looked up from the river to Ash, Oh hey Ashy, He said with a sigh. Ash noticed something was bothering his friend so he sat close to Gary on the rock and asked Are you okay? Gary didnt reply straight away but about 3 minutes later he said Ash, I have been meaning to tell you this for a long time but I couldnt find the right time, so I will tell you now, Okay, Ash said slowly. Um...well Ash I think Im in . but before he could finish what he was saying, 15 year old Paul from Veilstone City jumped oHappily ever After? part 16 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This