By the Hand of BastBy the Hand of Bast5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
With the last hieroglyph finished, Wati set aside the scroll he had been working on. He closed The Book of the Dead and ran his hands along the cover. Despite the fact he wrote these words on a regular basis, never had it been so hard. Ra had long since disappeared for his usual voyage, and the wick of his lamp was nearly burnt to the end. As the flame died its orange glow was replaced by the ghostly light of the moon filtering through the linens that covered the windows and door of his small hut.
On either side of the doorway, stood the shadows of two pots. It had been many days since Tiankhit had left him, but still the barley continued to grow. Wati had so hoped for the emmer wheat to sprout first. Like all men, he wanted a son, but had come to love the idea of his daughter just as much. They were overjoyed when the first leaves pressed their way up through the dirt to tell them the news of their child, and the days passed with excitement as they waited to see if they grew to be bar
Sister, can you spare me a seashell?I.Sister, can you spare me a seashell?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Last week she had asked me, "Sister, can you spare me a seashell? This town it is loud, but my thoughts, they are louder. I need to drown them like so many sailors lost in a sudden storm."
I told her that she needed to seek help instead of seashells; they did not hold the ocean and could not drown her thoughts.
Then my frustration melted to see her so suddenly as I had not since we were children, when she would beg, her eyes wide with fear, to check beneath our bed before she could sleep. She was scared of the dark and the darkness never seemed to leave her.
She looked so small as she walked away without the hope she came for and so broken when she paused by the door to say, "but I have tried everything else."
I saw her yesterday,
sleeping in the shallows
with her feet
To Be PoeticTo Be Poetic4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
To be poetic, I know of a place where dreams grow and soar high enough to scrape the sky and mix up clouds. I know of a place where fields of grass grow to be characters or stray thoughts, and every blade of grass is a detail that I've forgotten because it wasn't written down. I know a place where I'm happy, and nothing can bring me down. I also know the single weakness of that place what can destroy it. It turns the fields into dying, shriveling wisps, and the dreams are forced to shrink and are nailed in an X beneath the ribbons of pale pink shoes. They throb beneath the nails and beg to be let go, to be free. But there's a small part of them that makes them think they are the cause of their misery, and they accept the fact that they are enduring the punishment they deserve.
And, in the dark of the night when they're supposed to be asleep, they whisper to nobody in particular, "I'm so sorry."
Of Ice"Well, what do you think, Elias?" my father asked as he lifted me up into his arms. I could peer over his shoulder and right into my mother's scowling face. "Do you think Momma is being too uppity tight?"Of Ice4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Robin, enough," Mom snapped as she crossed her thin arms over her chest. "He needs his sleep. I will not have you screwing up his sleeping pattern."
Dad's shoulders shook with a burst of laughter. "Come, little one, let's put you in bed before I ruin that pattern."
I only nodded, a fluff of light brown hair falling into my face. Behind him, rage had encased Mom's features. Of course she wasn't happy. She was never happy when the snow started to fall. She had kept all the curtains drawn and scolded me when she caught me with my nose pressed to the glass panes, trying to catch the scent of winter. Letting me play in it was out of the question; I wouldn't be permitted to leave the house until spring had settled over everything and sent the snow away.
My father carried me up the staircas
In the Lowest DeepWith the utmost care, Walter Farborough tiptoed through the pitch blackness of the Alterworld. The ether-rip apparatus on his back emitted an occasional spark or crackle, but his thermal goggles shone only into his eyes: they had a good rubber seal on them, and that was important. The creatures of this place hovered or crawled, blinking an occasional love song to a mate or flashing a warning to an enemy. This was a world utterly different to the real. A world where the sun never shone and strange things had grown in the darkness. Needless to say, the fauna of this place were extremely valuable. One could make a sizeable fortune by trapping them, if one were willing to creep by later and risk claiming one's catch.In the Lowest Deep4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Even with the small heating coil as a marker, it was hard to spot the first snare. Something had trodden it into the mossy silt of the Alterworld floor, but had not become snagged. Walter was glad: feeling around the edge of the print with his hand, he could tell that this cre
Alarm the AlarmIf I'm ordinary then honeyAlarm the Alarm6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
show me what's extra,
and push back those tears. If
crying is all you've got left,
then I'm ready to cancel my
I've done about all that I
am capable of and
darling the effort just doesn't
If I'm normal then honey
show me the ab,
'cause I'm fed up
with not being up to par
and if I'm not the man you expected
and let me know
I'm not your type and
baby I know it
'cause I've got a bad
case of the shakes,
I barely take care of
myself so how
do you expect
me to take
care of you
Forget all the nonsense
let's just try and be
if being is all we can do
then we'll let it be
and hope for the best
as we part ways
and know that in
we gave it our all
if our all wasn't
then at least it
was fun while
and if it's not
meant to last
then I'll say goodbye.
Conclude I LoveMy focus is so messed upConclude I Love6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from my wandering, caught in
a maze of thoughts with you
Can't you see that I can't see
myself with anyone else
I know that things
have been tough
in the past
But that's exactly
what it is
in the past
If you wonder why
I can't find the words
when you ask me
how I feel about you
Darling, love is
and our love is
And the clouds gather
above, letting down
their furious torrents
and the Heaven's
you should be
in my arms
out of harms way
We'll roll over
each and every
and be the first
thing each one
and know that it
was only by the Grace
of your grace that
we are still
Baby I'm not the
but I'll always make
Little HellTart and deep, the wine was my museLittle Hell4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
behind all of the deepest intentions
to amuse, without all of my attempts
to diffuse an ever growing bomb
just waiting for detonation
I'll pray to the sky
in hopes of surviving
the coming storm
beneath the depths
of my soul
lies my desire
to be left alone
I avoid the crowd, because, well -
honey, quite frankly,
I'm far too good
for the rest of the world
I know that my anxiety
comes not from superiority
or from a place of rationale
But the bell sounds so loudly
it deafens my hearing
and so words of wisdom
never set in
And I'll wait til they're gone
to surface again
RunIf I asked you,Run7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you would run to me,
Or rather, maybe, away,
What would you do in that moment?
What, would you say?
Would you throw yourself upon me,
With abandon, reckless, in sync?
Would you back away slowly,
To gain time to think?
All of us are running somewhere,
Either to something,
Or to escape,
And once you start to run,
It's hard to change the choice,
That you made
Cause constant change,
Leaving bitterness, as all that remains
If you asked me,
If I would run to you,
Or rather, maybe, away,
I know what I would think in that moment,
I know what I would say
I would throw myself upon you,
With abandon, reckless, in sync,
With no need to back away slowly,
And no need to think
I could never run away from you,
To you I have been led,
I could never run away from you,
I would break my legs instead
jlp May 8, 2009
The Bond of Two"Still asleep, huh?" Hiccup whispered while letting his fingers stroke and ligthly scratch Toothless' sleeping head. He had been planning for the two of them to take a field trip into the woods to gather some berries the village women used for ingredients in one of their delicious cookings, and since Hiccup and Toothless had been known to know the side of the island where they grew the most, they had asked for them to go and pick them.The Bond of Two6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"We hope it's not too much to ask." they had said, giving Hiccup a slightly sad look.
"You know, with that leg of yours..." they didn't finish the sentence, clearly worried if they had hurt him, but Hiccup didn't mind at all.
"It's alright! I have Toothless!" he said with a smile, before asking for how much they needed. Having recieved a basket big enough to require the carrier to use both hands, he had wondered off, excited about the thought that the place they were to pick the berries where nearby where he and Toothless had first met and eventually got
AideenAideen wasn’t anything like me. Stubborn as ever, she’d insistAideen4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
saying something about an inferno in her flesh,
a savage electricity sparking in her skeleton.
For weeks she’d persist, sprawling across the kitchen floor in hysterics.
She kept muttering about bullets, something about gunpowder lungs
and inevitable ignition.
And all I could do was sit and soothe her, attempt to expunge these imagined notions from her mind. But stubborn little Aideen rejected my words as folly, retching out words like shrapnel and shellshock.
“Gasoline. Unpredictability tensed between my tissues.
Napalm slithers through my ventricles; hissing, itching to escape.”
A supernova shriek singing through her teeth,
She softens then she pauses
to notice ashes at her feet
"The useless remains of what used to be alive."
TemptationTemptation4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wish I'd never let him in
The man in red
The Chief of Sin!
"Hi Tommy, how's it going?
Is your wife and kids at home?"
"What do you want of me?
Leave me alone, let me be!"
He winked and nodded
Then suddenly laughed
As he gripped the steering wheel
And jerked it right.
He could of killed me dead of fright.
"Now listen, Tommy
Let's be real
I'm here to test you
How bout' a deal?"
"No way," I said.
"I'm not like you
You're mud and bones
and bluefish glue
I hate you, devil, yes i do!"
Unperturbed, the devil yawned.
"Oh Tommy, we've had our fun
But now you'd best obey...
Or your wife and kids are going to pay."
What do you want?"
"Simply drive across the street to the bank.
Walk in and ask the teller to give you one million dollars."
"I don't want a million dollars," I replied.
"Nope. Try again."
"Well, how about a trip to Bermuda? All you have to do is kill your neighbor's dog."
"Uhh, no, how stupid. Isn't there something better than that? I thought
you were the '
Insomniac's DreamMy aching for sleep has become more than justInsomniac's Dream4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
restless longing. The anxiety filled living nightmare of
not being in control of my own mind has caused my
thoughts to slip within the depths of madness. My vices
are multiplied, while my abilty to cope is depleted. God
I need you more than ever now. But I've never found
religion, or the idol to whom I would worship. My self
praising practices are poor to say the least. Who do
you turn to when your body turns against you? I can
no longer decide what my own brain will do, and when
I linger on the edge of insanity, who will be there to
break my fall, or hold my hand to prevent the slip. I've
come too far, sacrificed so much, to let such a common
commodity be the death of me. We take sleep for granted
and for that we are granted our due karma, and going
your entire life saying "It won't happen to me.", will only
further serve the purpose of disposing of your sanity.
I don't want money or fame, glitz or glamour, marriage or
children, no dreams
MYTHODEA ~ Dark Night of SoulMYTHODEA ~ Dark Night of Soul4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the labyrinth of darkest dreams, I am the pitch
of coldest night
In the solace of the blackest dawn I seek you
Where unblinking eyes sojourn in forests wild,
the kiss of ash and sanguine bespeaks
Whispers of a thousand skies rust and fall
The syrup of the gloaming hums thru the trees..
Obsidian mists bejewel the hunger of my soul,
like silhouettes dissolving into the poise of talons
In murk of scorched grove, Witches tears drip from
the leaves caressing the tip of my tongue
Acrid winds scented by forbidden incantations,
slither deep into the prelude of Love's sacrament
In shallow of ebon fields I bask in beautiful decay,
as black roses drift in ballads of nocturnal reverie
Beneath the providence of dark stars, I am the river;
the ink which you lust mystic poison & naked flesh
Undress thy ache upon sable breath, drink my gaze
Covet my shadow, unto forever you shall drown
Arthur Crow © 2012
UnFuckingBreakableRaise the gun and take your best shotUnFuckingBreakable5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I'd be insulted if you dared to hold back
But sparks are gonna fly tonight
And you've no idea of the strength you lack
So go ahead and give the trigger a pull -
You've got me in chains but the panic remains because you know I'm not scared
There's a glass wall between us but you're scared to see 'cause you know my smile's still there
Go ahead - flip the switch. Wanna bet on which of us is gonna scream?
Pitiful, sinful, morally reprehensible
Shameful, miserable, unredeemable
Do I look like I care about a label?
I am unfuckingbreakable
You've locked me away but you're reluctant to say that there's nothing to fear
You've hurt me in ways that few others would brave but you've yet to see a tear
Go ahead - flip the switch. Wanna bet on which of us is gonna cry?
Pitiful, sinful, morally reprehensible
Shameful, miserable, unredeemable
Do I look like I care about a label?
I am unfuckingbreakable
Shifting Paradigms - Chapter 1Shifting Paradigms - Chapter 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Shifting Paradigms: The Definition of Nobility
Title: Shifting Paradigms: The Definition of Nobility - Chapter 1 Origins
Game: Dragon Age: Origins
Characters: Myranda Cousland, Bryce Cousland, Rendon Howe, Duncan, Roland Gilmore, Nan, Baby, Eleanor Cousland, Fergus Cousland, Oriana Cousland, Oren Cousland
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all characters from it belong to Bioware. Except for Myranda. She's mine.
Chapter 1: Origins
It is neither wealth nor splendor; but tranquility and occupation which give you happiness."
Myranda Cousland pushed open one of the side doors to the Great Hall quietly so as not to interrupt the two men talking inside. She stood inside the doorway for a few moments, emerald green eyes blinking as she tried to acclimate them to the gloom of the Hall after the bright sunshine. When her eyes
Astrid's feelings"That's for everything else." Astrid mumbled while giving Hiccup one last look before running off.Astrid's feelings6 years ago in Romance More Like This
Having reached far away from his sight, Astrid stopped in her track to catch a breather, resting her hands on her knees while swallowing everything that had happened within the past hour. The reason behind Hiccup's sudden and unrealistic success during dragon training was that he had hid and tamed his own dragon! A dragon unlike anyone she had ever seen before, filled with personality and obvious acceptance towards humans in return for Hiccup's familiarity towards it. The minute she'd met the dragons' eyes when it snuggled up to Hiccup as it was the most natural thing it had all become clear to her. And just as she had fled both out of misbelief and with the intention to tell the first Viking she met, she had suddenly found herself several feet up in the air, clenched tightly by a pair of great claws, her feet dangling helplessly beneath her.
Never in her whole life, not even in her
Who am I? "I am me.."Who am I?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who ever that may be.
Made by a world,
Not easily understood.
I am what I am.
Of race ethnicity or a sexuality.
MonsterI am the monster you read about in those horror stories. I am the epitome of evil. I am a cannibal, I'll eat you alive and not think twice. Your beauty only entices me more. Believe me darling, there is nothing you can do. My charm is irresistable, and eventually you will slip. And when you do, I will be waiting.Monster4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Poet's EyesEscape the world as we know it,Poet's Eyes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And look through the eyes of a poet.
Everything is inspiration
Yet nothing can be written.
For when the words do not flow,
The inspiration goes to waste.
So here the poet sits silently,
Waiting for the day,
That the words begin to flow again
carouselwe laughed like children high on m&ms,carousel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
danced like we were carousel horses,
and jump-roped our way through obstacle courses.
I saved our footsteps in mason jars,
in case we ever needed to follow yellow brick roads
to get home.
home was an illusion:
honesty without truth,
apologies without forgiveness,
I kept home sandwiched between
"never" and "have to."
caroline, they'd say. caroline,
stop being such a dreamer. stop taking
us for granted.
I packed every apology possible
into my breath, left runaway plans lingering
in the silence between family.
when I found you dancing in the street,
I listened for merry-go-round music.
I tried to take you with me, I'm sorry.
instead I left you breathless,
left you safe, left without you.
I took our footsteps, just in case I
ever needed a way back home.
sometimes, I wonder if I left you
without a safety net.
of the ground-of the ground4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was Sunday night when Geo climbed into my room from the fire escape. I was painting my toenails and listening to the sounds of the city: police sirens, pulsating bass, the kids in my tenement running guitar riffs back and forth with the street musicians on the sidewalk. That was the year I turned sixteen and took a two-month vow of silence to honor the death of autumn. A premature snow had robbed the season of its delicate warmth and color, forcing the maples to weep their leaves into the gutters. All that rainwater, all that decay. How could anyone create when October was dying outside their windows? Pete and Jake practiced acoustic that entire month. The rest of us were too fragile to play in suicide weather, when the right chords might move us to open our veins.
Geo sat down next to me, examining my bottle of red lacquer. "'To Eros is Human,'" he read, and rolled his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."
I offered him my shoebox of nail polish. He selected a purple the color of opium
The GunslingerThe Gunslinger5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You mean you ain't never heard of the Gunslinger?"
The bar was almost dead at this time of night, and the question seemed to echo around the room - emphasising the sudden silence, rather than masking it.
"No, boy, I ain't."
Only a handful of stragglers remained, the dregs of the evening clearing the dregs of their whiskeys. The lights shone dimly, and everything moved lethargically in the warm Texas night.
"Well I'll be. I thought everyone 'round here knew the story of the 'slinger'," said one of the stragglers a tall, skinny man wearing a pale cowboy hat. A battered guitar rested on his knee.
"I'm new in town."
They sat at the bar - the musician and the newcomer. The guitarist resumed a lazy melody across the treble strings.
"Oh really?" he drawled, fingers sliding slowly over the fretboard. "And how are y'all finding our little patch of dirt?"
"Whiskey's expensive. Women all look like men," the newcomer replied. "Music's terrible," he added, eying up the musician suspiciously