Love resides, among us, abidesLove resides, among us, abides3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Another announcement, another point added to the disaster unfolding
I'm here by the T.V, while its hope still that I see myself holding
The sun is but bright, but warm in the sky so blue
Clouds around here are rolling on by too
But by the towers, and by my husband are they blacker than smoke
Through the screen shows another veil, another form of hatred
But why? But how? Answers swirling in my head that I wish were answered
How could someone be so cold, to murder their own kindred
Why would someone believe, their life for sacrifice be achieving something?
Suicide they say, is a permanent answer, for a temporary problem
I believe my husband is still alive, I believe that his hope is still strong
One thousand times I've been right, will this be my first wrong?
The wind but blows softly on my face, through my open door
I wish he could feel what I'm feeling, think what I'm thinking and more
I wish he was safe, that he could see me again, because I want him here
It's not time yet, it's
World War Z: EndingsThis was found in an elementary school in the outskirts of Biloxi, Mississippi written in what appears to be crayon on the wall. It is unfinished and heartbreaking. After ten years, the bones are still gnawed and evident.World War Z: Endings5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fiends of the flesh,
harboring the truer life.
On they came;
The moans begot more
The moans made sleep worse.
Caught in the moment,
There was solace in this
when they came back.
Dripping blood and gore
Making our family
Humanity ended here.
Under scores of grave-ridden nails,
the barricade fell
to the soundtrack of Hungry wails.
Worm ridden flesh
was the Law of the Land.
They come for me now,
I hear them in the halls.
Chewing on the doorjamb.
Chewing on the walls.
Hearts grow frozen
Of me there was no trace;
Of me there was no fac
InsomniaDreams. Nightmares. Unforgettable nights of longing for the things so far away. For the things that scare me. Pleasant tales of love, overthrown by stories of hell itself - all unfolding around my bed. My red sheets are the bloodstains on the gray wall one night, a bouquet of roses the next.Insomnia6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
What are dreams? Imaginary places of make-believe happiness, as if some form of natural prozac? Realms where fantasy is pushed beyond the borders of our very imagination?
I can't tell. I don't want to. My dreams are chapters of the book of my life, they're the red ribbon on the edge of the next page. Never managed to do much reading with my eyes open. Why, God why, would anyone want to live in something as shallow as reality?
Being awake is torture. It's a red car flashing over the gray asphalt, it's the fast lane with me behind the wheel - pointless and fatal. I never got my license, you know. And for good reason; I don't want to control things. I don't need any kind of control, all I need pure fr
March, 2004Soon enough, it got hard for meMarch, 20048 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to ignore the pebbles of broken
glass buried in the seats
of her attempted-suicide car, or
the night you cut open your legs
only to find them filled
to the brim with nothing
but cold blood and fresh ice.
I could smile but I was stuck in your war-
time car crash, fighting to breathe
over the exhaust, the sky dark and thick
with the unspoken, and she, your mother,
was confined to forced peace,
rounded corners, no butter knives
or shoelaces, hidden scars, white light and white, white walls.
I Have Never Wanted MoreTo seek an end to time itselfI Have Never Wanted More7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That such a moment as this
Could be forever frozen
The leaf fall stilled
In midair freefall
Early frosts bade to spare
The bounty heavy laden
Fixed upon the apple trees
As seasons turn and turn again
Yet there is to be no cessation
Of the trickling stream of sand
Flowing forward endlessly
Taking all that I have ever known
Reshaping and unstitching
Every dream I ever had
Each fragment passing beyond my reach
A realisation that this too shall pass
But nothing could inspire me more
For until the earth stops
Whirling around our flaming sun
In an ever expanding universe
My passion and fervour for truth
Keeps my focus on the day
And when a veil is drawn
Upon the stage of life
With a firm willed smiling end
This film will fade to close.
OsteoperosisWords and bonesOsteoperosis1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
are sticks and stones
and they will surely kill me
IntoxicatedIntoxicated8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
high on life and more than a little love drunk,
our hiatus has reached an end
you've worn out my heart --
it keeps finding its way back into my throat
you've worn out my stomach --
the butterflies still refuse to leave
your kiss reminds me that I'm capable of falling in love
...all over again with you
I'm a work in progress,
you're an overlooked masterpiece
a man with a message,
you're making great time
the sinners have it easy,
it's the saints who do the work
I won't close you in and I won't cut you out
(please do me the same courtesy)
our love is so comfortable
...and this is how it's supposed to be.
Death in LifeAs he waited for his next piece, listening to the choirDeath in Life5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
he touched the fragile threads that encircled his wrist.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He had forgotten to take the bracelet off before the concert began.
He began to slip it around his hand.
"It's been such a short time,
but I already love you more than the others."
As he pulled at the strangling weave, he felt the last tiny thread give way
and the circle snapped apart in his hands.
"She's mad at me."
"Because I haven't told you."
He felt breath claw at his throat
as he held the broken pieces.
"I know it hurts.
But this isn't about you."
He closed his eyes
and felt nothing.
ElsewhereElsewhereElsewhere8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes, an empty horizon appears
The waves abandon their fragments of mystery
On the desert shore of a nameless land
Beyond the huge machines on the edge of dreams
Where images and words collide with silence
A spirit falls asleep and fades away
When the symbols veil the sky
When the fossils awake under a different star
The presence of infinity draws lines on the sand
In this world made of zero and one
All is ordered like the dance of dead leaves
Like the colors of a forgotten instant
In this mirror of another universe
Life is reflected in death
Death is reflected in life
When the clouds fade out in the wide
When the eternal is nothing more but the ephemeral
The presence of infinity draws lines on the sand
And time slips away…
And the dream slips away…
And the presence of infinity draws lines on the sand
One day, all will end
It will be time…
Yes, it will be time…
ChildI am not finished with my childhoodChild6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am not out of my wonderment
My knowledge cannot fill up
Like a cup. It does not overflow.
I will never grow beyond my imagination,
My youth is internal, beyond my body
Beyond my soul and beyond this world.
The young ones here are forever.
leadenFields of sodden and gray wonderleaden6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
held sway on bubbling laughter
Just see the edge of forgiveness for another
wandering Death smile
Too many questions in the air
Too many faces in that lonely place
Grasping straws and letting go
Drowning in the cemetery
Ribbons tying love to regret
Blasted furnace of her heart
Blackened ashes snowing
Tightrope walking from the start
There she was again; just normal control
Pulling clumps of weeds
as the best friend died
Build complicated reasons
No net to catch her now
Out-shined by brutality
Its all old now
Faithfully lapping sweaty tongues
on fading Percocet
Who gets Mystified?
The sun shows sweeter
and simpler truths
Feel Sober breaking veins
loosening the strains
Tilt her head to the stars
Beat her heart into mercy
FateFate10 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A sunny day in the park. There is a single bench CENTRE stage. GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench. He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe. He is reading a newspaper. Enter PETER from the RIGHT. He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie. He is carrying a paper bag. PETER sits on the bench next to GOD, setting his bag next to him. He folds his hands and admires the weather.
PETER. Beautiful weather today.
GOD [focusing on his newspaper]. Mm-hm.
PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter.
GOD [shaking PETER's hand]. God.
[GOD returns his attention to his newspaper.]
PETER. Um… God?
PETER. Not to be rude, but… your name is God?
GOD. I am God. Or at least I was God.
PETER. I… see.
GOD. You don't believe me.
PETER. Would you?
GOD. No. But it doesn't matter whether or not you believe in me.
Wizard of OzWomen fighting over red shoes -- predictable.Wizard of Oz4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A Game of WordsCreated from the dust of earthA Game of Words7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bound tightly by
Sharp brambled love
Prone to wonder
Lust and hate
Speaking only truth
Abnegation has no part
Flights of wanton fancy
Forgetting all it never ought
Aspiring to virtue
Yet irreparably flawed
An inconstant maelstrom
Until the last setting of the sun
A conclusion of sorts
Stilling then forevermore.
imitacja*imitacja5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sytuacja nie jest taka zła. Rozmawiamy ze sobą, śmiejemy się razem, kłócimy się. Czasami zdarzy się nam zjeść wspólnie obiad gdzieś na mieście. Park nie wchodzi w rachubę, jest zbyt normalny, a krzewia niezbyt gęste. Ale nie szkodzi. Codzienne rano, kiedy budzi mnie zapach kawy robionej specjalnie dla mnie, widzę ogromne drzewo tuż za oknem. Najczęściej to wystarczy, imitacje nie są takie złe, bywają prawdziwsze, niż oryginały.To życie jest bardzo proste. Rankiem mówię do zobaczenia i nie zapomnij kupić makaronu i mam na myśli do zobaczenia i nie zapomnij kupić makaronu, bez zbędnych podtekstów. Wieczorem pokój wypełnia zmęczenie i zapach pesto (jeśli nie zapomni o makaronie). Dźwięki muzyki upijają nasze głowy i ogarnia mnie sen. Dotykamy się palacami ł