Lilt Hubris But LovinglyLilt Hubris But Lovingly4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I shake the most when I've never felt stiller than a mountain of laundry flattered by the detachment of fastening my jacket before dying feigns the sheets wonder of bed life like before the linen shelf was filed or lightheaded domination died in the drying of people as special as you're making my feeling like a car salesman in a Plato costume we're seeing through and through seeing the bonafide fibers and stupid gold chains of the softest names for real hardness parting reigns so we're black horses waving back to tunnel ending strangers so like life that the translucence is sucking death off our shadow for new grossness's beginning fresh as baby's supernova so murmurous of the purpose poised in my superfluous point of speaking from the peak of Whateverest that I bet nothing ever better than a wet bone to gnaw was never left alone to press bare paw right against the raw stone so I let her know it's a dog feeling patience like panacea is knowing the weather and when to be or not to be al
WomanhoodI was seventeen when I first understood what it was to be a woman. It wasn't the moment years before when I began my period. It hadn't been the instant in which a boy first touched his lips to mine when I was twelve. It wasn't when I put on my first prom dress, or the first time I wore heels. I knew that women had breasts, and men did not; men were taller, and stronger than women; women were fairer and meeker than men. That was the way things were, and always had been. I was born and raised to accept those facts, and that is exactly what I had done.Womanhood8 years ago in Open More Like This
I watched the deep, crimson blood drop and fan out in the water beneath me. It was like dropping food dye into oil, or dropping paint onto wet paper. It spread through the basin, dancing slowly over the white porcelain boundaries. My hips and legs and stomach ached for the fourth day in a row despite following the directions of countless concerned friends. "Drink water", "avoid salt", "exercise", they said. I had shaken three cylindrical br
The Friends of the ChampionThe Friends of the Champion3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Complete antidote to my last fiction, haha. This little bit of silly takes place long before the previous post when Kirkwall sat in the eye of the storm. Hawke and his companions enjoy the peace, unaware that - between them - it is they who will bring about its end.
Just a bit of stupid fun, but bitter sweet if you know what's to come ^_^
"Okay so - stop me if you've heard this one."
It's late, probably very late, in the Hanged Man. Cortland Hawke looks absently around the room, as if the time might just leap from the boarded walls and make itself known.
Heaving another draught from his tankard, the newly-dubbed 'Champion of Kirkwall' gives up any pretence of caring what time it is anyway and lets his head rest on his arms, his gaze moving toward the party's resident healer. Anders is holding court, having seemingly nominated himself as entertainer for the latter part of the evening in the absen
A Rebirth of Sky and SeaA Rebirth of Sky and Sea3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your memory carried me through countless nights
Nothing more than a glorified incubus
Your serpent words wrapping there way around my heart
We both need to move on, fellow lost soul,
The coming dawn waits for no one.
I'm only your princess when no one else is looking
A pet trained to come when your lonely.
I can't wait forever for you to make up your mind
The fading night leaves everyone behind.
I would have been your everything if I only had a chance
But we are young and your heart wanders while I look on
My wounds heal, your poison drains away leaving a clear mind
With my face to the rising sun, I am born.
It is your turn to wake up Lord of dreams and wishes
My hands once reached out to you, craving the feel of your skin
Bitter reality waits to greet you as I walk away with few glances back
The moon sets and a young girl dies.
Hours spent missing what never was is a heavy burden
My shoulders feel free once again and I pray you find the same peace
The fissures and cracks in a young he
House of Good SenseI want crawl insideHouse of Good Sense5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a cleft in your
& live among people
who don't know
under typewritten words
the print mistakes
the white page,
my passion diffused.
In a world of
like the static on
the Hollywood sign,
I could be small
I wouldn't shake
from the lapse
I could be
the future inside
like film screens.
ten years ago.ten years ago iten years ago.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
knew i was still
a romantic because
my dreams were still
filled with white dresses
and golden rings and
now, i know i am
a skeptic because
i am haunted by
and heated passion
and the faces
real, too real.
Slicing Inside and OutSlicing Inside and Out3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like railroad tracks
that carry me nowhere.
barricading me inside.
I tear at myself,
to make the pain go away.
Make it stop
make the suffering end
as I slice these lines
across my skin
red as ruby.
What have I done?
I hug myself
and try to stop the tears.
the endless cycle
can I make it stop?
Can I . . . end it?
How Are The Cats?How are the cats? they say to meHow Are The Cats?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the space where How are the kids? should be
As though compelled to obey social pleasantry
But confounded how to categorise me
When I'm clearly such an anomaly?
Not a mum, not a career girl
What else is there for a woman to be?
So I see them thinking.
Time after time I see people fall
At the how-are-the-kids fence
Like it's the barren elephant in a sterile living room
My supposed heartbreak, a 'fact' that must never be mentioned
A woman my age without children?
Why, it can only mean one thing
Especially when you look at the family history,
They whisper soundlessly, pityingly, thinking I can't hear them
Just because the words aren't spoken aloud.
I observe the delicate verbal tiptoeing
And feel touched and frustrated both at the same time
How I long just to tell them the simple truth:
I don't have kids because I don't want kids.
But I've seen it too many times now:
The surprised look, the puzzled frown
jokesi promise that i will always amuse;jokes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
proud pieces of promiscuity
and vivacious displays of vulgarity.
surprising fountains of profanity
spouting from the mouths of barely babes,
but i want you to know something.
i am not the laughs under your tongue
i am not the smile upon your lips
i may never be without one of the two
but they do not define who i am.
there are half-baked scars burned, but raw
stretching across my face and they
curve at the right piece of time,
parting for the red sea of dead cells
i'll pretend doesn't exist at all.
just because i'm the funny girl
because my nose is a touch bulbous
my voice a sound raucous
and because i never seem to cry
doesn't mean i don't.
jokes have feelings, too.
if i'm not speaking, maybe there's a reason.
i'm skating on thin ice without blades
a shuffling across frostbitten souls
i'm ready for the lake to break apart
and leave me sinking to the bottom.
i'd tell you that i want to die.
but i've got a better punchline.
dirty musicianthe street lights pukeddirty musician5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
cloak of yellow
and black spit away from cracked-
and it was
as if this man
or had been
to the place
from which he played
probably stolen from
or hell's only
a pawn shop
dollar bills fell
into it's coffin
as if hypnotized
by the guitar strings
in a slow-
sway only found
page 10it's coldpage 105 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and my saliva
to prevent me
from spitting icsicles
out the window;
is in the passenger seat
at the car-
like an alternate-
speaking to me
until we past a man (dead
or just shy
to the side-
by his own
(and she finally
of shopping bags
like the petrified
muscle tissue of aparitions
searching for fame
or a place
in the highest branches
of the naked birches
that only flaunted
Hate"I hate you."Hate4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Klaus smirks, sucking more fumes from his cigarette. It floods his lungs, coating them in a thin layer of comfort, before exhaling. The calming chemicals linger, though, and that's what he's after.
"Love you too," he replies, sarcastic, obviously not thinking about what Ben is really saying; not thinking, or just not caring.
"I mean it," Ben says, voice heightening slightly from Klaus' nonchalance.
Klaus rolls his eyes and flicks his dying cig off the roof. He doesn't need to look to see the thin, glowing trail as it falls; it's a brief thing, and he doesn't care for those things any longer.
He leans back against the roof, lingering warmth of the tiles against his back. Ben is diagonal to him, on his left side, sitting huddled by one of the many chimneys. Klaus can just make out his figure, cloaked in his dark uniform; his hair, though, catches the moonlight, making it easier to distinguish.
"And why, pray tell me, do you hate me now?" Klaus drawls out, remnants of smoke
SupermoonI sit here, quietly battling my demons over a cup of tea,Supermoon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you at the other end, receiving my transmissions.
We talk, or I do tonight, because I have things to say, mindless things
like how my hair breaks, the random coldness of spring, what I said to this and that and nobody,
how I have a black hole for a heart.
You listen. You disregard the fluff. You reply at the right moment, every time.
We've danced this one before, after all.
Outside, not far from my window, a guy is shot in the head. He dies.
I take a sip of tea, tell you more about my problems. They fill my mind entirely.
His body lies immobile, more shots are fired, two others are hit. A black car disappears into the night.
I tell you something about how I can't get my relationships to work. This seems important.
They find the car in flames some miles away. The killer ghosts have vanished.
You tell me to sleep. It is a full Moon lunar perigee. None of us are superstitious.
The night is impenetrable, dark, claustrophobic. I reme
punchlines for dummies"you can see babies kickin' to this ultra-sound"punchlines for dummies5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A Carefree DanceWhen asking your lady to dance, always be sure to make eye contact, smile, and take her hand in yours. Speak clearly and, above all, make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world get a chance to dance with you.A Carefree Dance3 years ago in Romance More Like This
These were the words echoing in Ron's head as he sat in his seat, eager for the wedding ceremony to be over and the reception to begin. He would finally be able to show off more of what he learned from reading Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches and maybe, just maybe, he would sweep Hermione off her feet and they could both forget about the dangers that lay ahead of them. For just a few moments, it would be just them: no Harry, no horcruxes. Simply her hand in his, his arms around her, dancing.
Ron sat through the whole of the wedding ceremony with the thought of asking Hermione to dance on his mind. He had it planned out perfectly — they would go find a table at the reception, Harry would bugger off somewhere, and Ron would be free make eye
i like your shoesyou stamped your cigarette outi like your shoes4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the bottom of your untied shoe.
(that you deny)
that i'm infiltrating
your already weak immune system.
you say, about your fake disease.
i'm terminal, too, you know.
you walked away for five minutes
(an estimate, you say)
i stole a cigarette of yours,
among other things.
i'll admit i'm a
Tears Dry On Their OwnI try to scream out pass these tortured lungsTears Dry On Their Own3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
While ignorance surpasses empathy
I sing pass these tears that no one ever sees
Disappointment night after night
A sickness seems to get between me and what I love most
I've tried but it never seems like enough
I don't want to live like this
But this seems like the only life I know
I need the music to help me breathe
Though people say that I am a flame burnt out to soon
My time has come now
And I'm greeted at gates with a grim "welcome to the club"
too much alonewe live for days off,too much alone4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
days away -
we earn our keep,
keep the peace,
one piece at a time.
we work for freedom from work.
find nothing is free,
not clean air,
not even freedom.
we eat to live,
not to eat,
wish not to be eaten,
we pay for walls and a floor,
for locks on a door -
for falsified news,
for calsified views.
we, who do all the work,
are thankful -
for what good there is, and
give what we can.
they, who profit from our work,
show little thanksgiving -
that they can't keep it all.
we treat each other formal.
we wonder what is normal.
we know -
this is NOT it!
llp - dec2010 - dA