On drinking beer aloneOn drinking beer alone4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Take its mouth like a conch,
portal to a violent sea,
and let its tongue slip
over yours. Hear
it storm against your teeth,
swallow. Do not care
if it is French or not.
We are sommeliers
of a lower order.
Anxiety sinks, thought
fumbles for a raft. Stop.
Remember you are bored.
Worry not: you have half
a case and yourself.
You smile and touch your lip,
drop your eyes to the bottle:
empty as the man
who left you here
BlemishI may be a mere blemish,Blemish2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But soon, one day,
I will find a reason,
I will find the hope,
the candle in the midst
of this darkness.
there is a destiny
to be found within,
Even if I am a mistake,
a mere blemish
on the page.
True and HaikuArt is lingerie;True and Haiku3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
silk and satin draped upon
our starving egos.
passive aggressiveOne can only turn topassive aggressive4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pens, paper and words
after realizing that
there is no one to
trust in the world
not even yourself
you crazy, neurotic
Words from a little Wild GirlI wish Pop was alive.Words from a little Wild Girl3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I often wish for a lot of things; for a proper darkling sighting, for Dolly's bruises to heal quickly, for Jack to get the book he wants but I wish that wish the most.
Pop taught me not to wish too much. Wishing makes you lazy; you can't expect everything to be done for you by some genie or unnamed creature often known as God. You have to do it yourself, or at least start it yourself, have a go at it, otherwise wishing becomes meaningless.
Wishing is only for Emergencies, for the Gravest of Situations and as Last Resorts Only or it becomes hopeless. Wishes don't come true every time so if you wish every time, you'll only get disappointed. By doing it only once or twice, there's less chance of hurt.
I know this but every time I blink, every time I breathe, I wish.
I know all this but I don't stop.
Cause what would be the point in life if you can't wish?
Sometimes it might not be right to make up stories
Warm BonesJack couldn't move, he just couldn't. His legs just wouldn'tWarm Bones3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was like a dream.
God, let it be a dream.
Don't let it be her.
He knew it was her. Even in the gloom.
Her pale hair, which lay in tangles across her small form, burned in the dark.
He knew it was her, it could only be her.
But he didn't want it to be.
Really, no matter what he'd said, he didn't mean it, he didn't want her dead, he didn't.
She just lay there, in the dark. Like a rag doll, thrown aside, unwanted.
But she can't be, she just can't
(She sure looks dead Jacky boy)
The light was dim, but to Jack she looked broken.
Even in the dark he could see that.
Her arms and legs were unnatural, flung out from her. If she had fallen, surely she would have put her arms out, to balance, to soften her landing? But they were just splayed out, doll hands limp and fingers spread, caressing the flagged floor. And one of her arms, it wa
StalkerAnouk was being stalked.Stalker3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She smiled secretly to herself. She could hear the tell-tale tapping on the concrete behind her, a tiny percussion between her muffled steps and she could almost hear the fine flitter fluttering of her stalker's wings as it followed her.
It was so obvious.
She didn't turn around. That would ruin it. She managed to keep herself faced forwards, on the houses lining the streets, on the ground, on the skyline, watching as large arrow of birds hurried across it.
She liked the town at this time. It was nice.
No one was out, due to the fear of non-existent gangs and protesters and such and it was quiet. Apart from the drumming of her bare feet on the pavement, the soft purr of material against material as The Bag she had borrowed from Ali swung alongside her, bumping against her jumper and the low hum of the dimming streetlamps, she could hear nothing. Nothing.
Apart from her stalker.
She smothered a giggle with her li
For Nelson MandelaIn this cup, I once held the world;For Nelson Mandela4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were so tiny, skin like starlight
against my worn and tired hands.
In the years and the hate,
I could not always keep you
close. I gave my life
to piercing the darkness
and you, cupped in these hands,
you gave me light. You forged
my knees straight and standing
when I wanted them to buckle. This world
I have tried to build
is suddenly empty -
these cracked fingers, once etching
the course of the river of history,
no longer hold water.
Forgotten.I thought of you todayForgotten.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(the first time in a long time)
when I found an old
email Id forgotten
I read your
words, so friendly
and light, so eager
to win me,
and my heart broke
neatly in two
like an apple cut
cleanly down the
center that falls into
twin red pieces
that will never
made specially for youi ignored the words of Sylviamade specially for you4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and then later of Ophelia
found my own darling fascist boy
with wavy hair cornmeal blonde
and eyes of aryan blue
you stood six foot two
and i was always forced
to look up at you
you frequented parties
where you allowed others
to bask in the warmth of your
summerwhere all the other
girls draped themselves around
you like silken scarves and strings
of pearls, they murmured poetry
into your ear while my
rattlesnake tongue lashed back
at you and i didn't
realize that our very
last kiss would be through
a chicken-wire fenceour lips
rubbed so raw and so red
and our hands clasped so tight
that our knuckles turned white
and the ashes tumbling down
from the sky like late October
snow and little did i know
that by the morning i'd
come to hate you and
little did i know
i'd come to play the Devil.
PlethoraIt started when Anouk found the bruises.Plethora3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Not only on Dolly, but on the both of us; hers were mainly on her arms, small blue blossomings the shapes of fingertips, high up where they could be covered by shirts.
Mine covered my stomach and thighs. Some were turning a curious mix of mustard and mauve as they faded while the newer ones were a hateful violet but they all settled in the shapes of fists.
She was outraged.
"Who did this." Her voice was low and soft.
What I've found with Anouk is that, the louder she is, the happier she is. She screams with delight when Dolly remembers to jump the 13th step and snorts quite voraciously when I make bubbles in my drink. Simple things please her and so I am very happy to run out of breath to hear her laugh, cause when she laughs, she makes this dead place alive. Colours become vivid and light so intense and the shadows die away for a while when she laughs.
Anouk plus Loudness equals Happy House.
Karasu - Part 11Karasu - Part 111 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Sagiri’s warning had not been in jest. From the moment that Shichi’s wound closed into a long, pale scar, his days were brimming with labor. He worked harder than he ever had in his life, cooking their meals, chipping through ice, digging, climbing, and performing maintenance on the hut. No longer able to rely on the temple gardens for food, the variety of their meals was poor at best. Only Sagiri’s boundless knowledge of edible roots and nuts kept them alive through the winter. His body grew leaner as he devoted all of his energy to basic necessities.
“The first thing you’ll need to know is how to tend serious wounds,” she had said at the start of his renewed training. “In the temple, the most you ever dealt with was kitchen accidents and sparring scrapes. On your own, you will face hunters, beasts, and the elements. You’re not much of a fighter, so you’ll have to be an exceptional healer.”
His medicinal studies had intensifi
CarnivalCarnival6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fingers sticky from taffy apples,
blood oranges and candy floss,
clutch balloons like long lost ghosts
and the wrappers of sweets
scatter across the wooden pier
where a sideshow barker sits -
one finger crooked in welcome,
his mind the faded posters
of your curiosity
Coins spill from your fingers -
shiny copper to cross palms
as a strangers smile
bewitches your steps
and lures you in.
Childrens bright shoes flash
the whirl of painted ponies
and music rattling like tin
while overhead the Ferris Wheel
like a twisted top.
The clowns crayon slick smile
darts like a razor
and dares you to follow
behind the mirrors
into the maze.
And under the big top
an acrobat hangs
like a tiny doll -
wires crossed, net cut,
twitching like a slip knot,
as the crowd holds its breath,
waiting for the show.
its so nice to see youdear old nostalgia,its so nice to see you5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
welcome home nostalgia.
to the broken down walls
the crooked teeth fence
eyes in the light bulbs
its so nice to see you
dear old nostalgia
spine of the bed frame
down to the sleepy glow
of the light in the 'frigerator
welcome home nostalgia
its so nice to see you
roots through the woodwork
grass in the corners
this aint no lux'ry hotel
dear old nostalgia
its so nice to hear you
creaking in the fan blades
whispers through the weeds
remember when we used to meet
dear sweet nostalgia
now what are we going to do?
RainTodayRain2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rain caught us by surprise
we started running for shelter,
but then you stopped
and, confused, I turned to you...
you gave me one of your big smiles
with your wet hair framing your sweet face...
we had forgotten
that the rain
was just another reason
to take our clothes off
ManuscriptI have written us down, typed us up, and sent us out.Manuscript7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they will edit us, and say some parts are no good.
but I want your run-ons, your lack of punctuation; and you are so easy
on my weak binding, my damaged spine.
dA University Student Sign Up of AWESOMENESSdA University Student Sign Up of AWESOMENESS2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Name: Laura Arro, daaaaaaaaaaarin'~
Gender: I am a delicate flower of womanhood.
Height: Short. And PROUD of it.
Hair: Black; down to a little past my shoulders.
Birthday: February 27
- Character designing
- Nostalgic cartoons and animated movies
- Animated movies and cartoons in general; pretty much anything animation-related
- Sexy pirates
- Steampunk, Gothic, and Victorian thingamabobs
- and Cookies and Milk
- AND LOKI. LOVE ME SOME TOM HIDDLESTON, MM-MMM. I love the rest of The Avengers, too.
- The Dark
- Scary Movies (horror films, not the films called "Scary Movies")
- and any other kind of Meanies (Blue Meanies are awesome though. )
- Artistic (obviously)
- Quite in reality, loud in the internet world
- Slightly aggressive. Slightly.
- But always willing to try and be friendly.
Classes Signing up For:
AzeeraTheNinja's Chibi Class of Epicosity!
Why You are Signing
Why so seriousI feel my eyes bulge in terror as a hand clamps over my mouth from behind. My heart begins to pound with such ferocity I fear it will beat a hole in my chest. I feel my body thrum with adrenaline and a scream begin to build. Suddenly the world is spinning and I realize my attacker has turned me to face him.Why so serious6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The hand has been removed from my mouth, but still, the alleyway is silent because the mounting scream has been strangled in my fear-stiffened throat. At first my mind rejects the image it is being presented, but slowly it comes to grasp the situation. Im still in shock as he begins to chuckle. The sound is dark and full of menace.
Hello there, beautiful, he licks his reddened lips and grins. You know, its not safe to be out this late at night alone. Let me walk you home. He laughs, grabs my arm and jerks me in close to his face. I stare at his infamous scars, tinted strangely by the dim light at the mouth of the alley. He notices and his lips twi
MoreTight chested cold breath,anger burning through my cheeks--More3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I jaywalked tonight,and raced a car to the center of the street.
Tales of Death and Stalk.Bing. Bing. Bing.Tales of Death and Stalk.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Walking down the bus station.
A voice which tells me..
"Go back up. You won't regret it."
And I go back up, the safe route home.
And just to take extra precautions..
I take the Cemetary.
It's dark, damp, and sad.
Like everything is going down.
As I look to the right,
And I look to the left..
Children run and play along the graves.
To my disgust.
The burning starts.
Sticky, and Sweet.
Something I never wanted to be near again.
And the odor never leaves.
This entire time, I'm gripping a star,
And hoping it will help me through.
So keep walking,
On the sunny sidewalk now.
Everything is going good.
Nothing is going wrong,
And the terrible odor, from moments ago..
Is almost gone.
But forever, sticks to the back of your head.
Notice the man in the burgundy shirt.
He hardly has any hair.
Slowly, he tags behind you.
Damn. I really liked burgundy.