She Will Be NearShe Will Be Near6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She Will Be Near
But Unseen behind her Curtain
Isnt that like a book?
Caught just so between lark song and
The taste of Unblushing
Words awakening on her Breath
A startled square of glass
Unready for the Torch of dusk,
Quick to change the subject
She will watch the Coachmans approach
By not watching at all
Her weight confiding in the sash;
The Stars moving in pairs.
to Emily Dickinson
Sixteen Dead in JuarezSixteen Dead in JuarezSixteen Dead in Juarez5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We can't talk. We can't
talk now. Now,
like the living, we are
dead in Juarez
unsolved as the grave
streets that turned us
indoors until, hidden
inside, the hiding ended
with the blood we were.
It seems a mistake, false
information, a confusion
of something; they could not want
anyone like us. Who can see
why they might they did
not know our hands as we left
them, dark and plain, beside
bullet holes in a wall.
What is this smell in the air?
Where is the world
where the world is?
Why is this? We can't
The Indiscreet ShepherdThe Indiscreet Shepherd6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Indiscreet Shepherd
Nicolas Lancret (1743)
Is it sunrise or sunset
in that irregular panel by Lancret,
one of those few that hung a while at Versailles
in the apartments of the kings mistress,
by which I mean to ask, as I stand
just a foot or two away from her
not far off really, not any farther than he is
standing, rapt in the rustic mischief
unfolding around the fringe of her dress
is it right for her to drowse there
still against the unyielding column
capped by some small body, maybe stone
and maybe flesh, turning away from her
in any event: the shepherdess declining
into ornamental sleep? And is the dog, hers
or his, lifting or lowering his paw
instead of yelping? Are the sheep
worn or wanting a brush of grass?
Do the clouds accent the trees;
is it the reverse
thats true? And is it him that she
is heedless of, or is it me?
Summer Haiku WriMoSummer Haiku WriMo7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Squealing children play
as ravens watch from atop
a nearby lamppost
Off in the corner
a spider catches ants as
I do other things
Waiting at the tracks
for a train that never ends
the smell of a skunk
While on the hillside
cows stand in the dry brown grass,
slowly not watching
alive with summer sun
The skull on her top
is a friendly pink and has
bows tied in its uhm
sheltering spiders and me
I reach for more tea
Boughs of young willows,
heavy with the weight of leaves,
dip into the lake
This hot summer day,
as I put the trash out, Im
breathing through my mouth
That wilted onion
I dumped into the compost
has begun to sprout
snapped in a ravens beak wait!
its a garter snake
Standing in the surf,
sand slips from under my heel
and gulls cross the sky
The light of the sun
has come to dance in puddles
under the peach trees
El Dia de los DifuntosEl Día de los DifuntosEl Dia de los Difuntos6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could say the clouds were silent,
hushed in close against the skirt
of Volcán de Agua. I could say
they had passed over the market
stones without setting a shadow
down among the candied fruits
and marigolds gathered there for this
day of the dead. Focusing like this
how the sky lingers uninterrupting,
as sweet squash and cups of chicha
spill across the square, announcing
the burning I might see two men
there, stripped and beaten by the crowd,
listening to the mouth of a gas can
sing of errors and heavy promises:
never to avoid the rough battles,
ever to defend land and home,
always to burn, to be burning;
and feel the heat of people
pressed against people,
smoke rising on the wind
kite tails climbing
from the graveyard into heaven
on this day of the dying.
MeditationFocus on reality.Meditation11 years ago in Open More Like This
Release thoughts of all else.
Look into you,
see what you need to see.
Realize what you hold dear,
change what you do not or dislike.
Become the greatness, the wholeness,
In the end, perhaps you find peace,
or maybe self acceptance,
This is what will make you Best.
What If A BookWhat if a bookWhat If A Book6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
instead wrote me,
and I made
sense at last.
The Streets of Kilkennyan irish gent with eyes of blueThe Streets of Kilkenny6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
strolled down through kilkenny.
a solemn man with dreams abroad,
somewhere beyond the sea
an intellect without compare,
humble, astute, and wise,
yes there were lands abroad somewhere
behind his sapphire eyes.
there came the day when irish hills,
their landscapes verdant green,
could not enchant the irish lad
from where he longed to be.
his pockets empty, money spent,
just making ends complete.
hed taste his death, a half-lived life,
without his grand retreat
but fate brushed shoulders with him once
and spared the tragedy.
an irish gent trapped hopeless in
the streets of kilkenny.
inside the pub, forgetting his
there sat a femme with locks of red.
passions soon ignited.
not knowing love, but knowing lust,
our gent pursued the lass
and captured for himself romance
before the chance had passed.
perhaps too pale, perhaps a glint
of mischief in her eyes,
but she spun tales of foreign lands
too wild to be lies.
the irish gent, his he
The Puppet MasterThe Puppet Master & The MonstersThe Puppet Master5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Behind the wall of veiled ebony,
Bejewelled with onyx, beauty in the night,
Lie dormant monsters, elements of me,
That masquerade as elegant delight
And wage a war with filthy vanity;
My saviour is the seventh deadly sin
That aims to bleed into my sanity
And lift the strangling smoke that lies within
My consciousness, expressed as golden strands,
A lying aura, monster of my mind
That taunts and makes a puppet of my hands.
The puppet master dwells in sleep behind
The wall of ebony inside my brain
And dances merry in the velvet rain.
Happy Meal DragonsHappy Meal DragonsHappy Meal Dragons7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rearing back on greasy haunches
into the palm of a small hand,
necks bent in green spasms of rage
they dont know that everybodys losing
things along the way
mixing spoons and lego cyclists
dropped among foxtails
where dragonflies sing,
bent yellow shovels pushed
under summer sand, and Batmobiles
upturned in grass growing far from anyones
back door with just three good tires
and no hero at the wheel,
sometimes a chain of Italian gold, a phone
number or battle, memories gone
to wild fire and fingers
as easily as wings.
Love Doesn't ExistWalking down the empty roadsLove Doesn't Exist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With no one but myself
Wondering why they said I'd be lonely
When I'm not looking for someone to love
But something must be wrong with me
I must be suffering from a horrid disease
Perhaps I am broken
Incapable of even caring
Because people like me don't exist
I'm told I'll find the right person one day
But I don't want to find that person
I have no interest in that part of life
Of course, that can only mean one thing
If I don't find guys attractive
Then I must like girls
But that doesn't seem right
I've stayed up all night wondering what I am
And somehow, I'm not anything
So who am I then
I must be lying to everyone
It's not possible to have never fallen in love
To actually want to be alone
But it's not like I chose this
Because although it should be easier
No one would choose to be like me
I would prefer anything but this
Because to me, love doesn't exist
Pirate Women and OctopiPirate Women and Octopi7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pirate Women and Octopi
and around and around and
pirate women and octopi,
weightless in their dimension,
vogue beside scattered treasures,
mugging for the unseen no one,
not even for the tiny barrel whose fiery fuse
sizzles toward disaster,
and around and around and
sharks can see the diamonds
and sharks can see the gold and
sharks can see the pirates,
but the pirates do not see the sharks and
they do not see the kitty
the pirates eyes are black sockets,
undiluted suicide slits,
and there is no flesh to fit those holes
where there is none but the nothing inside;
the pirates are ours to see
and around and around and
black stars, wearing the airs
worn by pirate women,
are hovering mid-air
above the cutlasses of a cartoon sky
the parrot has the pirates eye-patch,
the cloud is so angry he is bullying the star,
the crab is happy to be missing his claw
and to have his hook instead;
spouting off, the volcano is
copying the wha
Wounded - Pokemon N sad storyWounded - Pokemon N sad story2 years ago in Settings More Like This
I curled up, my pokemon climbing up my skate board ramp. I felt so lonely... How long has it been since I was locked away by boulders in this room. All my toys surrounded me as the disgusting looking wounds on my body covered them in blood. My Zorua being the only one close to me, holding my Zekrom plush on his back and my Reshiram plush in his mouth. The cloud filled floor made me feel no better, just made me feel like the world around me was distorted along with the checker board print on the walls.
The floor made to look like a basket ball court was behind me, with the hoop pushed over, I managed to cut myself while pulling my 'bed' from out of the corner. Or should I say the tire. I uncurled myself wiping away my tears and picked up my Zorua. It lifted it's paw and placed it on the rather deep gash over my eye, this made me flinch. This gash blurred my vision in my left eye. But that wasn't the only wound. When the rocks fell in front of the entrance, I tumbled onto the ramp while
The WatchmakerThe Watchmaker3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Thomas sat hunched over his worktable in the corner of the dark shop, tired green eyes peering alternatively through his mixed set of lenses and magnifying glasses. The slim silver tools in his thin fingers never once clinked together as he worked, turning over the dozens of tiny metal gears and springs laid out before him, checking each one studiously for the hundredth time that week.
He didn't know what he was looking for. He knew he'd find nothing. The pieces were perfect, crafted and meticulously cut from the finest metals. They gleamed in the light of the table's single candle, reflecting the shifting shadows that flicked across the room. He'd never seen anything like them in all his yearsmuch less held such things in his handsand Thomas' aged heart beat furiously as he gazed at them through the glass.
The Pale Gentleman hadn't been lying There was certainly something special about these parts
Elizabeth, the old watchmaker prayed silently, I hope
Fear and FaithBlackest matter pervading my head,Fear and Faith2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seizing my limbs as I'm facing the dark,
thoughts unwanted, unheard and unsaid,
discarding thy redemptive salvaging spark.
Shreds of light stroking my mind,
creating a glance into heavenly place,
my childish self, so naive and blind,
thou enlighten for me oh to embrace.
It's the infinite dance, the unending fight,
a game to be lost by the vines of time,
one leads to sorrow, the other to light,
thou are the only to toll the ransoming chime.
REAL PinkitudeREAL Pinkitude.REAL Pinkitude6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
One of my in-laws had a double mastectomy years ago, when Doctors did them if there were signs of cystic fibrosis in either breast.
Since then, she's gotten a pair of foam breasts, with a nipple protrusion. She only wears them when she goes out to party as she finds them an unspoken falsehood.
A couple of years ago, my daughter and I were going down to the club I ride withs Thanksgiving Feast and Grandma asked if she could come.
I told her she probably wouldn't like it because it was club, even though we were having an open house.
She replied, "'Rider, I know a dozen of your brothers, I've fed them when they stopped by with you, don't you think it's time they fed me?"
My kid told her, "Gram, you haven't met Large yet. He asks everyone female that comes in to show him their boobs, and doesn't give up until they do."
Grandma laughed, "I'll handle him, Honey!"
Noticing the skeptical look on my face, she said "You've seen my boobs. I'
Child abuseTo hate on a worldChild abuse6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Deranged and all
To beat on a corpse
So lifeless and small
To eat away
The guilt and pain
To sleep it away
It's all in vain
Belial - J'aimais une fille...Belial - J'aimais une fille...3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
J'aimais une fille belle comme le jour,
Le soleil, jaloux de ses cheveux
D'un geste, Bélial repoussa les lourdes tentures pendues au mur, dégageant la fenêtre au verre épais. Le soleil rasant éclaboussait d'or et de trainées sanglantes le ciel au travers, l'informant que son profond sommeil avait duré presque toute la journée. Il ne s'en étonnait guère. Sous sa chemise de lin le cuisait encore les élancements de la blessure du ventre Un rien plus fort, et Edmure lui faisait jaillir les trippes dans les mains. Penser à son frère lui crispa la mâchoire. Père lui a peut-être ordonné de me ramener vivant de préférence, il a une autre idée en tête en choisissant de me garder comme prisonnier. Ma tête seule charmerait d'avantage notre noble maisonnée.
Un épais cordon fiché au mur lui perm
Wave goodbyeThe stars haven't faded;Wave goodbye10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
they aren’t yet dead.
They’ll continue to burn
and will never die
until you tear them
from the sky.
Blue Doll houseDusting off a doll house,Blue Doll house6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(A nose tingling feeling)
In a basement of long forgotten gold,
I spot a plastic girl helping me.
Shes in the third room to the right, sweeping some bunnies under the tape of carpet.
(She couldnt sweep it under the bed, for it was glued to the floor)
I stop and watch, seeing her mother at the kitchen table
Saying her prayers
And her father waddling to the girls door.
She smiles to me and stops the cleaning,
And opens the door as he announces
that another paycheck is on the table
But hed never say it like that to her
Dad and Kid - Number OneAll along, it's always beenDad and Kid - Number One6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you & I against the rest.
Not allowing darkness
to enter in,
nor serving light's behest.
But now time's sharp and
is tearing me away,
demanding I face nature's law
and pay the price that we
I hope to last the next
and watch you graduate.
But if I can't please
I've no control of fate.
End RemembranceEnd Remembrance2 years ago in Historical More Like This
Remembrance Day originates at the end of World War I. The idea is to honor those who died in the line of duty, defending their country from enemies. For all its pompous words and fancy granite memorials littered with colorful flower bouquets, Remembrance Day and others like it have failed miserably in achieving this goal.
I've often been criticized as having no respect, and that can be an impediment when discussing certain topics. However, I am often in luck – hypocrisy deserves no respect. What changed as a result of the enormous sacrifice of those who died in WW1? As the first bombs of WW2 fell just two decades later, millions once again obediently lined up under various pieces of colored cloths to slaughter and be slaughtered. It became obvious that absolutely nothing had changed, and that the millions of WW1 had died in vain.
Most would agree that all that lip service paid to the sacrifice between the two world wars wasn't good enough. To truly honor their sacrifice would be