SCARSScarsSCARS4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
They tell a story.
A story at least
one page long,
but goes on
are no words,
the jagged lines
They go in
And, as I try
to hide them,
and long sleeves,
they are still
A story about
A girl, who is
broken beyond repair.
A girl who found
one way to cope,
and that only
girl even more
The Sociology Student - WGProfessor Hargreaves, what ever will I write my phD thesis about? I am fresh out of ideas.The Sociology Student - WG6 years ago in Erotic More Like This
You could do mating rituals of the Uru people of Southwest Zambia . Maybe get in a little field work.
Oh, that one's been done to death.
How about a fresh spin on juvenile delinquency?
Professor, there are no more fresh spins to put on juvenile delinquency, its been done even more than mating rituals of the Uru people of Southwest Zambia!
Well, I suppose there is a topic you could try, on which little has been written before.
Oh yeah? I said, piqued.
Yes. You could do feeders and feedees.
It's an intriguing subculture. There are feeders, mostly men, who proceed in, quite literally, well, feeding the feedees, mostly women. The whole process is highly sexualized.
Oh that's nothing. Everyone has romantica
Aria - Partie 1- chapitre 01Aria - Partie 1- chapitre 015 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
L'homme arrêta de faire les cent pas et se passa la main sur le visage. Cela faisait une bonne heure qu'il avait été annoncé à la Reine Séphora et il commençait à s'impatienter. Au moment où il allait s'en aller, la grande porte principale s'ouvrit brusquement sur une jeune fille à la peau légèrement basanée, aux cheveux couleur jais attachés sur la nuque par une barrette d'argent et au regard vif. Elle portait une longue tunique en lin immaculée et des sandales aux lanières argentées.
- La Reine vous attend, monseigneur, si vous voulez bien me suivre
Escapeless Doom PoemEscapeless Doom Poem4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Merciless pity put on quite a show,
Put you down to your all time low.
Misfortune surrounds the the pessimist gloom,
Shrouds their soul to a certain doom.
Many a times, a voice had warned,
Many a times, a voice went unheard.
Machete of grim is coming your way,
Finally bringing you your death today.
Slashing high, swinging down low;
Here it comes, the killing blow.
The tiles now shine a crimson red,
Lathered in blood from my latest dread.
Marking thy sign of a final victory,
Kings are after you, time to hurry.
Run for your life, run from the gallow,
Run to the tree with an empty hallow.
Safety is key, but not for you.
Invisible you can't be,
Found is what you are, now ado.
RealizationI am a ghost.Realization3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fading in, fading out of lives
This wind is bitter and unforgiving
Like a shark.
I simply float
Like a crisp autumn leaf.
I soar along.
Yes, you fear me.
I would know.
Why shouldn't you? I'm cold; I'm dead.
But I'm not a menace!
A monster, yes
But not a menace.
You can trust me! I promise!
What could I possibly do to you?
I won't hurt you.
I can't hurt you.
I can't even touch you;
I can't feel your skin.
I can't feel anyone's skin.
I'm dead; I'm cold
No warm flesh, no hugs and kisses
I can't feel those.
I can't feel.
I'm cold; I'm dead now.
No more holding hands, no more brushing faces
Fiery heat from across the living room
Is inviting in this terrible weather.
But this room is a ravine
And this is only a dream.
Well, not only a dream;
Rather, completely and entirely
Within a reality of absurd proportions.
And yet, and yet, and yet,
It is still reality.
And that, that nightmare, I can feel.
Ghost ArmorComing back soon... to be published within the HOAX #22 issue of antiTHESIS, a Melbourne University publication. xGhost Armor4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
BeachI see only blueBeach4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
In light and dark, as restless
Ocean meets still sky.
RapHis little girl cry's out in the still of the night.Rap4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Daddy isn't home, He's out looking for a fight.
No money in the bank, no food on the table.
He's in and out of jail so his paycheck isn't stable.
Popping pills till his body is numb,
He swears one day He's going to use the gun.
So he chokes down the bottle, He's a mouse of a man.
He says "It's hard to get by with two broken hands"
He's spitting excuses, He's pushing blame.
But everyone knows "broken records don't change"
So he's off again, searching for his fix,
Throwing women and alcohol in the mix.
Just business as usual, Age old thrills.
Not a penny to his name so He's footing the bills.
He stumbles in the door around 3 AM,
His daughters in the hallway, looking up at him.
Her stomach is as empty as her swollen eyes,
Her tiny heart has been broken one too many times.
Not a passing glace as he heads to bed,
He has bugs under his skin and voices in his head.
He's a disease, a stilt to the limb.
Neglecting his baby becau
Edward Scissorhands - Pt 9Edward Scissorhands - Pt 94 years ago in Sketches More Like This
Nobody was looking at the dark and gabled silhouette on the hill overlooking the town at exactly twenty-two minutes to twelve that Saturday night. It was lucky that nobody had, or more than one of the townsfolk would have added a new chapter to the peculiar ghost story that had insidiously circulated throughout the town over the decades, permeating the life of each and every inhabitant. For one brief instant, every single light in the place had flared on, crowning the whole hill with a blaze of glory.
The man with the scissors for hands had indeed discovered the electricity junction box.
Edward was lying flat on his back, hair alight with blue sparks, eyes rolling back in his head under the pale eyelids, almost out of their sockets. A faint curl of smoke drifted lazily up from the scorched black leather rags that swathed the prone form, and a smell of burning plastic hung in the air. It wasn't the first time and it certain
The timeThe time3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time goes by to fast
I can' catch it
It's fast even when we are not having fun
It gos faste when we do have fun
I don't understand why it does
Just the other day summer started
Now school's starting soon
Summer is never forever but it's never gone
melusinemelusinemelusine12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
her name was melusine. she walked into my art class one day, and the teacher announced her. she looked like she didn't want to be there. her hair was this bluish color that i can't descrine, it was a cross between turqouise-like blue and green, not to forget yellow. her hair was the color of the ocean in the tropics, so clear and blue that you can see straight to the bottom. her hair ended at her waist, and it looked like she could be even more beautiful than lady godiva herself, if she were naked and her hair were longer. her eyes were the same color as her hair, and when you looked into them without knowing her you would feel that she was compassionate, a loving person, but that she was very quiet. her wrists were covered in sparkling bracelets. silver, blue, white, yellow. she was wearing an old vintage sundress, with blue sunflowers. the dress stopped midway down her thighs, revealing her legs, which were as pale as white; it looked as if she'd covered her legs in w
YouYou,You4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Are not what you do for a living.
Are what your passion is.
NORMANSCRISMUSNORMANSCRISMUS11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
am i mising sumthing?
how did this awl begin
wat duz this holedae
never mined look at all tha presants
a seeson of desepshon
of plesent lys
so cute wen we fule children
wat hapens wen thay find owt tha truth?
wat is tha truth?
never mined look at all tha presants
look at tha presants
stand in aw of tha presants
its all abowt tha presants
you no its sumthing deaper
pretend you no wat it meens
or just enjoy yur presents
and eet turkey or ham
watever you eet evry yeer this tym
and i well call you nayber
and ride yur slay
wen the nite is silent a baby is born
that duznt cry wen thare ar lowd sownds
and sheperds bring presants too
becawse He is speshal
who pepol well always argyoo abowt
The bearOne day in august, three rocks rolled down the stream of chocolate.The bear4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
KABOM, fell a plane.
The Kind of Father I was CH1The Kind of Father I was CH14 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Kind of Father I Was
Author's Note: Inspired after I wrote the fic To Raise a Star. It was a one shot and now I wish I had made it a drabble series but oh wells! There are hardly any past Black Star fics out there so here I go with a short series of young Black Star drabbles. Mild manga spoilers on Black Star's past.
It should be noted, if you didn't know, that Sid was the one who brought Black Star to Shibusen. Not only that, but he was around 11 or 12 years old (he mentions in one of the chapters that he's 25). Also, we see Sid in flashbacks as a mentor/father figure towards Black Star. So, here it comes- Parental!Sid, younger Black Star, and a splash of Sid/Nygus here and there. ENJOY!
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or the characters.
Chapter 1: Black Star
It was a simple enough mission, so he couldn't understand why was he fighting back the shutter that went up his spine as he kicked through som
They Told UsThey Told Us:They Told Us3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They told us we weren't artists,
They said that we're just puttin' words on paper...
They told us we wouldn't make it,
Because language isn't unique...
Ta hell with them all I say,
Because I know tha truth they seek ta hide.
We're treated like third-rate artists.
Our hands can't create magical pictures,
We can't create comics ta make people laugh,
Or emotive portraits ta make em cry...
But what they don't see is tha title,
What they don't see is tha description,
They don't even see tha comments or replies!
They look only at themselves,
And at tha talent they seem ta proclaim.
It's like starin' at an old english aristocrat,
Ignorin' us simply because we're farmers.
But what they don't see are the words.
Words used ta give a picture context.
Withou' a title, a picture is just a mix of colours and lines.
Who could understand an image, withou' a title?
If art alone suffices, why not let every piece be nameless?
I'll tell ya the truth, separated from the
Paulie's PuppyPaulie's Puppy3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a sunny yet chilly October day in the small seaside town of Hogan's Gap, California, and Halloween was still three weeks away. Green, black, orange and purple autumn decor lined the windows and walls of the rows of old false-fronted stores and colorful Victorian houses.
In one large, old mansion near the summit of Main Street, Gwen Barry was feeling lazy and content. She had just finished her homework, and now waited for her parents to get back from a baby shower. To pass the time, she started reading one of her many favorite Gothic-horror mysteries written by John Bellairs. So absorbed was she in this literary masterpiece that she did not hear the patio
Xanadu Among HorsesXanadu Farm.Xanadu Among Horses3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's old and dilapidated and mushy and ooshey and grimy. Most of all grimy. It's most certainly not the glorious
marble palace of Kublai Kahn. It's a proper working farm that demands sweat to seep out of every pore and gives back only
painful calluouses and a sense of fulfillment. The barn was leaning in on itself in a haphazard and careless manner. I'd
had nightmares that the old mold heap would fall down on me in a moist and crumbling vise of a heap. It never did.
Manure and compost.
The stench of them goes hand in hand up you nose and down the back of your mouth to lie it's tired-self down on your
tongue for a bit, for even the odors have to labor away on Xanadu farm. After a while, you'll come to welcome the reek as it
becomes associated with happy memories. It becomes, 'homey', if you can stand to bear it.
Mickey Mouse______________$$$$$$$Mickey Mouse4 years ago in Sketches More Like This
Edward - Story of Snow Pt 7Edward - Story of Snow Pt 74 years ago in Drama More Like This
Chapter Twenty Five
Everybody around here knew that the strange boy from the house on the hill had not been born but had been made. He had been created up here, by the old inventor, who had died before he got to finish the man he invented.
Edward looked exactly like the kind of charcoal sketch a disturbed child might draw, all in blacks and whites, with the sticklike figure patchily coloured in, and the face very roughly drawn and hatched across with lines. The hair was a big scribbled mess, the eyes were two big round black holes and the hands had been given great claw-like fingers, much too long for the rest of the body. No child would want to see this nightmarish doodle brought to life. And yet here he was.
Moira had always avoided thinking in much detail about how exactly Edward came to be. But it was really shocking to come face to face with this room full of twisted inventions, and with that, that robot thing with the knives and the buckles, that looked so much like E
SoxMa Poison Chapter 19SoxMa Poison Chapter 194 years ago in Romance More Like This
The sky was dyed in the purples of twilight but for a few long clouds that burned orange with the last of the dying rays of day. The stars were beginning to dot the velvet sky and twinkled as they appeared one by one. The evening air was cool and flowed through the streets to mingle with the waves of heat the cobblestones had gathered in the day and now released back into the falling night. The lanterns of Death City glowed brighter as the stubborn embers in the sky began to dim. The city had come to life as the citizens left their homes to mingle and enjoy the cool evening.
Soul and Maka walked arm-in-arm through the suddenly bustling streets all but oblivious to the spectacular desert beauty or to the curious looks of passersby. They took their time winding through the streets and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. By the time they reached the restaurant, night had fallen completely.
The Italian restaurant was aglow with a warm and welcoming light tinged wit