Black Pumpkin BioFull Name: Yet to be RevealedBlack Pumpkin Bio5 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Nick Name(s): Black Pumpkin (BP)
Hair Color: Doesn't have hair
Eye Color: Red
Family: A son and daughter, Lucian and Andreea. Both dead
Power(s): Conjuration, Regeneration, Manipulation, Affliction, Dark Energia Destruction, Resurrection
Abilities: Weapon Master, Super Speed, Unlimited Strength
Weapon(s): Muertos Scythe with endless capabilities, Dark Energia
Info: The Black Pumpkin, a True Muertos, with a goal. He is quite the demented, serious, intense, and psychotic Muertos. Whenever it is necessary, the Black Pumpkin destroys his enemies from within, making them wish they were dead, making them weak and vulnerable. Whatever the Black Pumpkin is planning, a huge amount of Energia, and a certain Jäger out of the picture, is only part of it. Despite his harsh attitude, he can be quite the gentleman towards his fellow Muertos. Unlike most antagonists you see in other projects, he
GehennaI recall theGehenna4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I no longer
felt at peace
Such a subtle
I could see
I closed the
October 17th, 2010
the aromatic Miss MirandaA blouse turmeric yellowthe aromatic Miss Miranda4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
On a youth, terminally mellow
Lined, crumpled, irregulous
Silk, a fabric to be ironed
She a girl not bothered
By a few creases in her fleeces.
Paprika red tresses, cropped close for convenience
Bristling with potential for lyrical length
By a girl bored of boring.
A herby heathen vegan
The incredible, edible
aromatic Ms. Miranda.
Your Life's A StageLife is comparable to a bookYour Life's A Stage2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Which would make today a page
Don't dream of the drama unfolding
Act it out upon the stage
If the stage is your lonely room
And the theatre is your home
Then why not be the protagonist
Heroes never die alone
If you are treading those boards tonight
Then be careful how you go
Show the world and open your mind
To learn things that remain unknown
And if you are the director
Make sure the cast know their lines
If their actions stray away from the plot
Then cast them out of your life
If you are seeking attention
Awaiting ovation from the stalls
Be sure to do something worthy
Before the last curtain falls
Our fallen hero or heroine
Will rise for their final applause
Unlike a play we've no such luxury
For us there will be no encore
Don't Fear, My loveShe sits in the darkDon't Fear, My love5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her breath is weakening
With every scream uttered
Her heart is pounding
Echoing inside her head.
She tries to stay focused
Yet all she beholds
Is the void confining her
Trapping her body
Weakening her mind.
It seems like forever
That she last saw the light
Her skin once so soft
Is now cold as a stone
What has she done?
She cannot remember
The most simple sound
As a staggering silence
Is her only company
What has gone wrong?
Suddenly the silence breaks
A creaking sound nearby
Footsteps coming slowly
Time stops, she cannot breathe
Her fate is near , the door opens.
A shadow advances on her
Bearing light in its hands
Murmuring soothing words
Such a familiar voice
A glimmer of hope ?
She innocently smiles
As the shadow leans towards her
Her smile switfly hidden by a firm grip
The shadow keeps on muttering
'Don't fear, my love ... it will soon be over'
Seasons.I spent autumn falling in love with the scent of your hair and distantly burning leaves, laying in the grass watching the world fly by and wondering if we could stay this way forever. Your skin was electric and your eyes were a drug and I held you closer, always pulling you closer, until I was high on everything about you.Seasons.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I spent winter dreaming of short-legged dresses, dancing to big band music late into the night. I dreamt of sharp fireworks and startling glances laced with traces of white powder. I dreamt that letting go was what was best. I dreamt Id be free again. I dreamt wed have magic again. But by winter I didnt understand you anymore; by the time snow started to fall, we had already fallen off the earth into our own separate worlds.
I spent spring standing on the edge of foreign shores, losing myself in houses that over looked the ocean. Oh, so many nights wasted trying to forget you, when the wind tangling my hair and the salt on my lips only reminded me o
Avenge My AngelShe's all dressed up,Avenge My Angel4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
with no where to go.
That pale rose skirt,
and her hair in a bow.
She sings to herself
because nobody's home.
Her mother's upstairs,
Rose petal nails,
and ivory skin.
She's an Earth-bound angel,
in a world of sin.
And she doesn't see him,
as she walks by.
A polite smile,
just another "that guy".
But he wants her,
like he's never wanted before.
He'll be the savior,
in this angel's dark world.
But the day he makes his move,
her mother drinks too much.
Her father returns,
and his love burns to ash.
Screams from the windows,
flames from the door.
The sirens start to wail,
as the rain starts to pour.
With his hood on his head,
his eyes turn to steel.
As the wind whips his face,
he refuses to feel.
And all he can see,
in his pounding head,
is his lover's dark father,
and how he wants him dead.
So with her beautiful corpse,
screaming for vengeance,
he kisses her goodbye,
sends her home to the Heavens.
And he turns for the road,
he last saw his back.
The Pizza, The Prophet, and MeSo. It all began when the prophet Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon him, came for a visit to my house for some pizza and video games.The Pizza, The Prophet, and Me7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Id had the cheese and garlic pizza, with the pan-style crust with mozzarella crammed inside, and he had the regular old original crust topped with lots of vegetables, a lot of them olives, onions, mushrooms, and green peppers.
He really likes those peppers a lot, so I always make sure I have some in the house in case he decides to come over.
So anyway, there we were: me, lounging on the couch with my feet propped up on the little wooden folding table and he, sitting in his green robe thingy, cross-legged on the carpet.
I told him, as I always do, that he doesnt need to sit on the floor, and that hes a guest in my home and thus, can sit on the couch next to me. In fact, if anything, as a guest, the roles ought to be reversed completely.
And, as always, he just smiles and responds that I am a lady and therefore, I should get the couch
That RoadThat RoadThat Road3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The one less traveled
the one that curves to the left
the one that takes me there and back again
If I close my eyes, I can feel the bump of the wheels
I can smell the fresh autumn air and taste the coming winter
along 'That Road' everything matters and nothing means anything
I mean to spend my life there--living my life;
loving myself. Being myself again.
It's the less traveled road
The Singer, updatedHis slender, sapling body seems too frail to supportThe Singer, updated6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the weight of his precociously world weary pose.
His is the face of a child discovering debauchery,
an angel who has forsaken innocence, savouring
all the decadent compensations
of the fallen state.
He wraps himself around his guitar, his nimble
fingers weaving melodies from its loom of frets and strings.
He opens his mouth, to release his melodious voice
from its fleshy prison. The sound flies high, a bird liberated
from a dark confinement, his song a manifesto,
to celebrate his ambivalent androgyny.
Silently, you sleep.It maybe hurt,Silently, you sleep.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but will is desire
so powerful to deny.
And so you tell me
of your sound sanity,
words you cannot mean.
Your door is still closed
at nights too dark to bear
in my chest void of my heart.
And so you keep me
inside a closed shell,
promises you cannot make true.
This tingling sensation on the tip of my toes
brings me to another crossroad:
should I follow or just leave?
Maybe the hurting is love
and the love is just a way
to make me dream another day.
Lord, I Am Ashamed.Sleep and ILord, I Am Ashamed.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Have grown distant lately.
Back when the air I drank
Was more naïve,
We were friends sometimes
And sometimes enemies.
We bickered and loved
The taste of the wind,
The song of the chickadee,
The color of dreams
To warm my life.
The acres of that country
Are now reduced
To a single small lot
Encircled by a
Gray cyclone fence
That holds bitterness
Rather than keeping out
The worries of the world.
But I suppose
I don't really notice it,
Trees used to whisper to me
Of an earnest jay
Building her nest
Or of two squirrels
Caught up in the heat
But who really detects
Over so many
My own skull throbs
As if I'm diving
Down, down, deep
Into a scummy lake.
What breaks my heart
More than anything else
Is that I don't recall
My familiarity with the sky.
With silly and necessary things
To realize I've forgotten
DaydreamerDaydreamer3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The grandfather's clock by the lobby ticks the afternoon away, and as light surges into the greenhouse hallways she sits by the window, her face turned away. The light fills her in waves and the wind looks bubbly, infecting the swaying trees and flowers but her hands are folded in her lap just her eyes follow.
So her hair shines copper in the afternoon gleam, a ghostly echo in her earthly brown which matches the way her skin shines pink sometimes. She awakens from time to time, to blink off the fairy dust on her eyelashes and cast glances of moving confusion around the room.
In that second I'm not there, waiting on her confusion to fade until the sparrows come to take her away. Only then I know what she's thinking, she likes to draw streams on the air where impossibilities met; I like to dance through them. They're as frail as smoke but if you try hard enough they hold, clear like glass.
Just so I know why she enjoys them so much, in this tidily written routine.
Her face i
even when i knew it would.its like waiting a million years to takeeven when i knew it would.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your first breath of water. your skin is
alive with a thousand lights only to die
when they all burn out.
and, oh, youve waited! a wild, desperate
need and ache and desire that has laced
through you, bubbling through your veins
and fooling you into believing that there
is, was, should be more.
so when you reach your fingers forward,
this love, this feverish flame turns to ash
beneath your touch, dissolving into the
wind. and the floor drops out, pitches
you forward into the wild yonder of
hopelessness, helplessness, loneliness.
and you close your eyes, you claw out
your heart but you know, with the
certainty of ages that it is not there,
that this flame, this need was nothing
more than a beautiful lie.
[just a beautiful lie.]
we're all standing still.He's not coming back this time.we're all standing still.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's hard to remember that sometimes when a door shuts, it just stays closed. There's no other consequence. No other opportunity. Just one more way you can't go. One more person that you can't follow. Sometimes, you're just as stuck as you feel so it doesn't matter if the earth travels one million six hundred thousand miles through space every day. You are in the same place as yesterday so all that other movement is just superfluous. It's not bringing anyone closer together. It's not going toward any sort of destination. There is no end. No point. It's just ceaseless movement through an ever-expanding universe that only keeps getting bigger until you're simply a tiny pinpoint that feels absolutely alone. And meaningless. Unnecessary. And all of this just makes it feel overwhelmingly true.
The truth is most of the roads here only go one way.
Some days, you believe you can get out of here and live somebody else's life in some other place and with all of th
Don't Call my nameIt had been a regular day on the set of Total Drama World Tour, or at least however normal a reality show that involves doing crazy challenges while traveling all over the world in a giant metal death trap of a jumbo jet while singing was. Right now though they were still traveling Chris decided to tell them that they were going to get their next location the in the morning since he said "I wanted to make sure you all get plenty of rest cause I want to see you at your very best for the next challenge hehe " so everyone did as he said already knowing something probably hard was being prepared for them and the plane quickly grew silent by nightfall.Don't Call my name5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Aye este programa es una locura." (Translation: "This show is crazy") Alejandro muttered to himself as he walked quietly across the dark hall towards the mess hall. He had decided to go to the mess hall to think over his strategy since it was hard to think with Owen's constant yelling about the fact that they were goin
shades and tones.give me a canvas,shades and tones.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'll paint you a picture.
"no," you say.
"Those colors are all wrong."
what I could never seeYou would say...what I could never see4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
while looking straight at me.
I told you it was a sin to lie, no matter how beautiful the mouth that whispered them were.
You repeated the tired rhythm and I always brushed you away. I never knew how much that killed you inside until it was too late. You tried everything to get me to see me the way you do. I covered up the mirrors and turned away from your crying, pleading eyes. I bled out my pain, creating the scars I felt worthy of. After so many years of being pushed down, and only having you, one in a million telling me otherwise, I had lost my ability to believe I was anything but worthless, pathetic, and ugly. I can finally see now, you were only saying what you saw and what I had to see. Too bad it's too late
or is it?
BetrayalBetrayalBetrayal7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My dark eyes can no longer show emotion,
I am numb to everything around me.
You were the one to make me this way,
Cold and heartless, filled with only fury.
I believed your good intentions,
I endured your playful ridicule.
I followed you with unyielding devotion,
But you were a fraud. And I? A fool.
You turned away when I needed you most,
Leaving me to a fate so horrendous.
I had lovingly given you my fragile glass heart,
But you broke it into a million pieces.
For a moment I could feel nothing
But the dull throb of ache and depression.
Then it all came crashing down on me:
The sadness, the grief, the anger, the desperation.
I realised my grave mistake,
I had let you use me as your own.
There was nothing more I could do now
Except whimper, scream, thrash and moan.
I pushed you away, shunned you out
And steeled myself for pain.
I slowly began to put my heart back together,
But it was imperfect, never again to be the same.
Now here I stand, emotionless and bitte