:in between words and worlds:i.:in between words and worlds:4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
With amorphous regret in my mind and genesis in my notebook I turn the page and there is the hateful etching of your name a hundred times over and over until its engraved on my wrists and under my eyelids, those crimson marks dispersing into atoms when I close my eyes, there is the slight tremble of the summer leaves and the south birds migration, there are the salmons leaping in ocean's tears and mountain's streams and there are cars whizzing by the empty voids between our words and worlds.
To you, words exist in worlds
And to me worlds live in the existence of words
But you'll only frown and turn away, and accuse me of being philosophical and boring.
Because maybe that's what I am, a cluster of clashing words,
Clashing worlds when I shut my eyes
And clashing sounds like soap water when I just l i s t e n .
In the translucent yellow of this candlelight, the lisp of words soften to words sifting above whispers, and in vain I sketch in my mind the shape of your smi
deliverance does not come,as does the bell-boy from his duties,deliverance does not come,5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rough-boned burly man from his cell.
with the calendar days deemed ignorant,
the time-clocks cloak themselves. from what?
natural disasters are nothing, nothing I say,
compared to cold metal making nests
within a womb. and men, are wild -
run rampant through the night,
start fights, take heaven to tired veins and
in blind glory, ignite.
ThoughttospeedSwiftly the rock moves, ne'er will heThoughttospeed4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Happen upon the chance to see
Another being as lithe as he
In the land of Thoughttospeed,
(A hell of sorts for philosophy).
Each thought here grows grotesquely large
Into cancerous, hideous tumors.
And as these weighty growths take charge
They harbor hate, they harbor rumors.
An existential crisis is akin to a coma,
(Each human here has at least one teratoma.)
And they cover themselves up in corn chips and paint,
'Till where one is and isn't is where one isn't ain't.
That may not make much sense, but in Thoughttospeed,
One is weighed down by their personality.
create with meWith my words,create with me4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I could give to you.
A tragedy like no other.
Yet within my power,
I want you to be lifted higher,
And feel as if this world was made for you.
Though some may say,
That it is but folly in dreams,
This is my decree in every word.
As the roses form,
And the water fall splashes,
The wind carries my voice to you.
As with ever passing heart beat,
One can create both sorrow and joy,
Though the choice is not so well known.
Each whisper empowers,
As drawings of roses brings joy,
But will you create something with me?
Though I can create untold joy,
We both exist in this timely scene,
And though I asked it before I'd like to dance.
For with every action,
The cost is time and goes with woe,
Yet the return can never be something so meaningless.
So can I request,
Time from your heart and soul,
To create something of equal joy and woe?
The choice is forever yours,
To weave tragedy or harmony into life,
Be it in any form this life chooses to give.
So will you weave this choice,
SomeoneDo you know what it's like to look in the mirrorSomeone4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And hate what you see?
To look into your own eyes,
To find them filled with tears,
To beg to be different
To be skinny, pretty,
To be someone that can be loved,
To be someone who I can love.
LightlostHardheaded autothoughtLightlost4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
puddles the nighttime sky
though bright Arcturus sinks
to meet Capella in the east.
The moon will be new,
all indignant ballast
as you bend compromise
around its weakest point.
pours his final summer
from a steeply tilted spout.
AmbushA sinus-clearing laundry smell, lighter than wasabi but stronger than the breeze, wafts off the hanging linens. Fairness in a physical form, as physical as molecules of artificial cleanliness and replicated rose scents can be, it drifts between individual strands of hair and permeates the space between them.Ambush4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Slowly flickering light sets the scene, solar flares and cloud cover causing the contrast. It's one of those days where the sun provides all of the world's warmth, so the people below bask in a two-tone earth of hot and cold. Hot and cold. Features are illuminated and friendships ruminated.
Rows of people stand in pew-like formations, separated by the invisible seats into an uncanny order. The heartbeats of all in the front line are heard fluttering and muttering, cease as a figure enveloped in casual Friday makes her way out the back door, tense at the screen.
This is not the nouveau riche display of plaster cast sentimentality a man cut from reality, with the eye of a jeweler and
Yellow Brick RoadWhen I think of all these eyes have seenYellow Brick Road5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I know they've seen too much
Tin boxes built on whiskey bottles
With little voices all sewn shut
Angry tempers flare inside
Domestic violence erupts
But step outside
Only to find
the city eagerly awaits
Where merciless streets of urban decay
Exploit and devour the weak
Even when there's nothing to give
There's always something to take
Falling victim to the environment
Less you find an escape
Ending up in working class America
(Where the ends don't always meet)
Discovering the one you love
Shows colors of deceit
Finding dark places of the mind
Where you collapse in defeat
Until the day you rise again
Ready for something more
For these are the trials of our lives
But who dictates what's in store?
We can't choose how we start
Or even where we go
All we can really do
is keep following that yellow brick road.
Moon wondersSometimes I wonder if you think of meMoon wonders4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
equally much as I think of you,
if you too look up the moon knowing
that I see the same,
like we weren't an ocean apart
but neighbours, wall to wall.
150.She said: "Dreams unwind"150.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
and they all unravelled
just as she predicted
A Handful of MothsThe mountain is a pincushion for cactus. It looks like some irritated desert deity just threw saguaros like spears at the hillside until s/he ran out of spears.A Handful of Moths4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's movie night, and that means that tires crunch through the gravel at the drive-in to see the latest stars-and-explosions movie. It's robots tonight, great city-wrecking things with Hollywood voices and gears spinning behind their ear plates. That means that we pile into the cars and go, plaid rugs flung over the backs of the seats, plaid shirts over tank tops, team bumper stickers. Go Team! It's cooled down to seventy-five degrees and the condensation on my soda cup drops down to gather between my skin and the plastic.
We talk and talk and pay our dollars and park. The blanket gets tossed out like a bigtop tent and flattened in the bed of the pickup. The bed door falls down on its chains with a clunk.
The screen looms in front of the cars, cream-colored and silent. The logo of the drive-in dances around it like a screensave
FabricThe fabric of you,Fabric5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in brilliant threads,
and the almost
divine thrill of silk
that bruises my fingertips
when I unbutton you
and turn you inside out.
I wear you
like my favorite jacket -
suede patched sleeves
and velvet cuffs,
lapels that whisper
your secrets to my skin
and seem to pull the night
into your pockets
as I watch your colors run,
long and singing in the dark
Some think it BlindSome think it BlindSome think it Blind4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
By: Douglas Edward Gealy Jr.
The fluent Flow,
Below the neon glow
The whispered winds
That pretend, to know
The orbiting orbs flash white
To the eyes that needn't light to see
When they know, you know
But if you have never seen
From quite, dimming, darkened eyes
It is hard to believe
What you would see
And where you exist
It would be nothing like this
As your gaze persists upon the pupils plane
And will doubtfully return,
Without loss to gain
Some think it blind,
Some close their eyes,
And believe to see only darkness
But beyond belief there I more,
More to never fully understand
A shadow without a shape,
A shade without a spectrum to color upon
Beyond the concrete,
Is a soul in the sea
And swirling wide
The haze to all physical comprehension,
Hidden as oxygen within the lively waters
A Brain to feel the natures reef
Tuned to the softest sounds of near silence
As faceless smiles grace the salted meadows
Within the limitless liquids,
no more deathsvengeance is not virtueno more deaths4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
there is no recompense
for a lost child
or wife or mother
some of the most primitive societies
in the world
are not as blood thirsty
as the State of Texas
or any other semi-sovreign unit
of an increasingly ignorant
and hypocritical nation
that allows men and women
to be executed
and does not consider this
cruel and unusual
and we are all worthy of death
each of us, saints and such...
considering the number of
in the early Christian church
they should probably consider it
to be killed by the agents
of the new Roman Empire
and join the multitudes
in an inversion of the religion
that is supposed to uphold mercy
even in the face of persectution
Jesus wasn't packing
we, the people,
have lost our way
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Bittersweet.Your sweet breathBittersweet.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
curls the pages of the newspaper
beneath the summer sky.
Against my skin,
twisting with every move
as we lay under the
in the field
beneath translucent skin.
I'm waiting for the
Summer to end so
Fall in love with you.
Time flies like a
in a jar of honey.
perish.perish.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Recollect the thoughts
for the paralyzed minds lost
to the imagined dilemmas
given by the hands from the devil.
though i get lonely
s l o w l y .
make no sound
lie awake sleeping
quietly loud while
the rest are nosily silent
imagined dangers creep
but its all an illusion
distorted reality is all
as the world spins
or perhaps the world
was left in the dark, to decay
rot in its own despair
I'd like to set the world
ablaze, to perish in its
futile flames forever.
maybe then, there will
light to illuminate the
crimes gone unnoticed.
Early MarchThe crystals of the frost lies uponEarly March4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the small wonders, underneath,
a birthday cake out on a bench,
cold trembeling fingers light candles,
a rose red mouth blow them out,
the sun shines through the bare
branches, soon filled with shade
for the lovers,
a birthday wish for warmer weather
and complete hearts
the lovers entwine.
Small GodsI brought down the gods for you -Small Gods4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
left city streets in shame
and maimed the victors with thorns,
just to make you believe
in angels again.
Truth was never my home,
but I sought your history
in every face that fell
from too much grace and favor
or gazed upon the living
like so much cattle.
And I could feel you
time's sharp little acrobat
but nothing can grow in earth
this meek and soiled;
and my hands are bloodied
by the cries
of those you left starving.
Demons.And they wonder whyDemons.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am so quiet,
why I choose to keep it in;
my real feelings;
they are a burden.
I keep them bottled up so
I don't make others sad,
but after a while,
the pain overcomes me,
and I just get so mad!
I yell, I fight,
with those closest to me,
and then I walk away.
I don't know
what to do,
how to fix my own mistakes;
the broken spirits,
of mine you got to know.
Maybe I should just
get out of your lives,
Under The Scarlet Moon.Materializing out of the faint darkness, he caressed the feverish cheek of the child lying in bed, taking a seat on the soft mattress.Under The Scarlet Moon.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He dare not disturb her sleep, although that was not what he was here for.
Her name was Rose, as the crayon-adorned paper pinned upon the door exclaimed, surrounded with depictions of scarlet-colored flowers. Death looked about; small plush toys lined shelves on the walls and an antique mirror in the corner had drawers that brimmed with glittery plastic jewelry and hair clips.
I n n o c e n c e.
He could see it as she lie in bed, her baby-like face speckled with freckles beneath the beads of sweat against the pillow.
The winter was never merciful.
Out of curiosity, he trailed a cold finger along the softness of her inner forearm, small pink fingers responding by curling about the warm fabric of the teddybear nestled under the covers as well. Innocence.
While admiring the shimmer of her auburn hair in the dim light given off by the s
listlessNothing's on my mind, reallylistless4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or maybe everything is
You keep your life rhythm through those beating drumsticks
Scream chaotic whispers in electric waves
Heart lit up in wildfire by the arsonist crowd,
As the crowd grows thicker
Thinner grows that trust of ours
In the electric energy hanging over our heads in this wild chaos,
I make out the silhouette of your body frame
The beat of the stilettos on the glass floor, casting laughter drowned in wine, moving pictures shouting from smooth clear surfaces.
He kept his rhythm, theories of life, to himself. For there is no space left in the world and in man's mind for thoughts of complexity and philosophical remarks; the world was built on numbers, consumes numbers, and every crook every turn every bolt and every nail was a number
They said, here's something abstract,
It's worth ten houses, this painting of listless strokes
And they gave you white paper
[For your breathtaking brush strokes, your abstruse words ]
But the whitewashed walls
DepressionTo the world you're smiling. Someone asks "how are you?". You reply "fine, just tired". And that isn't strictly lying, you ARE tired. Tired of being alive. Tired of waking up every day regretting your existence. You're constantly crying on the inside. The tears never cease to fall even if the weary smile on the outside does occasionally fool someone.Depression4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You're being burned alive. You have chunks teared out of your soul day in, day out. There's a massive black cloud descending over the whole world. Everything becomes blurry. You want to cry, scream, run away from the insanity. You want to be held. You need some warmth to heat up the cold and empty room. The flame's going out and there's no more oxygen left.
You want the misery, the never ending misery, to vanish. You're so tired but you can't sleep. You're not ALLOWED to sleep.
Everything else becomes distant background noise and you spend hours wallowing in self pity. You spend DAYS dreaming of all the ways to kill yourself and end t
falling into thunderThe lightning last nightfalling into thunder4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like crashing bolts, like silver swords
from the deep ebony above,
[the colors of your summer gaze]
there were no clouds,
[for they were floating in my mind]
his still image, in black and white, that smile
was like mudwater, filling up the gaps,
the blank, empty, deep voids
under my eyelids
I pull the blanket to my chin,
[flash, flash, boom goes the lightning above,
and i pretend to see a window shatter like ice,
[even shadows have deceased, to the brightest gleams of nowhere]
maybe you've awaken,
to this sound of a musical mess
our dreamy, dark reign
[don't you fall asleep now, with the darkness weeping its only known song,
because if fish have a memory of seven seconds, then you should forget me too.
Can You Hear The Piper?I am the piper of lost souls,Can You Hear The Piper?4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Playing away my sorrows.
As I play they gather around me,
Looking for guidance and love,
Which I gladly trade for company.
They sing along,
With my heartfelt song,
The cries of the dead rising strong,
They sing of chaos without name,
A mortals' sin brings about much pain.
Their voices carry into the night,
Sailing on like birds of flight.
A beacon bright to those deceased,
They flock to me like sheep,
A moth to the blazing heat.
I call them here with my tune,
Underneath this starlit sky,
The passing sailor hears their cry,
I am beckoning all to my sight,
Gathering my bounty, for tonight.