LovelyThe sky last night. Lit.Lovely3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Made me think of you.
Like my name
coming off your mouth.
Breathless against the air.
I could taste the sky last night.
September apple smooth.
Deep, pink sweet.
Sweet as the inward smile on your lips,
recalling our pleasure.
The sky last night had your voice.
That faint recollection of you.
A love thumbprint.
A touch. A dream.
Against the quiet dusk.
My mind has played the nights' sky.
I am stunned by its beauty.
© 2011 Linda R. O'Connell
I Dreamed Of Lady GagaI Dreamed Of Lady Gaga3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I had a dream of Lady Gaga during my nap from 4:30pm to 5:35pm today on August 22nd, 2011! In the dream she came to my house and we were chilling in my living room with my mom on the couches. I told her about a few things. I then told my mom off about sexual orientation and God, I told her I was born this way, told her I'm sick of her Catholic prejudice. Then I stood up from my lounge chair and give a peck of a kiss onto Lady Gaga's lips, briefly hugging her as well.
At night in the same dream I was laying in bed about to go to sleep, then Lady Gaga show up into my bedroom. She's laid on my bed on the other side behind me. We talked for a bit and I played her songs on my iTunes as a lullaby for us. We fell asleep listening to her music. She was smiling at what a fan I am for her. She looked so lovely covered by my blue comforter, peacefully asleep.
I eventually woke up very early in the morning and still seen she was there on my bed. It felt so vivid. I played a Britney Spea
In the DarkIve been in the darkIn the Dark3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So long, walking endlessly
Never thought I'd find light
Been dark, far too long
Finally, there it is
I found my light
Still a long ways yet
But i shall get there
Now that i've found it
I wont let it go
The dark is gone
dancing on a tightropedancing on a tightrope8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am dancing on a tightrope,
springing toes eloping with
the gentle slope, the soft incline.
My hands are warm, entwined with air
that faintly shines (still echoing
with your delight). My fingers smile.
And as you sing, your sunset words
now send me undeterred to meet
the height of birds. And step for step,
no fear and no regrets have I:
my safety net--it is the sky.
What Am I? Lingering in that photo...What Am I?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In that simple shot
I look, and I see a woman.
I am not a woman.
I have never worked for a lifestyle,
given birth for an allowance
I have never truly loved a man.
I am not a woman.
I do not have the means to
to wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)
and move, move, move
until I reach a place of
I am not a woman.
Sometimes, I still take the
of my childhood and
place it on shoulders of
Sometimes, I remember the way
lifting builds me up.
But I am not a woman.
Lingering in that photo...
A wisdom of some sort
has trickled into my features
I see glimpses of it now.
In that momentary shot,
I look, and see memories there
In the darkness of my eyes.
In the taming of my smile.
In the strain stretched over my brow.
I am not a child.
And I am not a woman.
PnF - .:Fatherhood:. Eng-EspEnglishPnF - .:Fatherhood:. Eng-Esp4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I never pictured myself as a father.
Getting married? Well, that's natural, that's how life is supposed to be, you fall in love and met that special someone that's meant to share every single day of her life with you.
Getting a job? That I can do. Something that challenges you every single day, because it isn't only about you, is about the people that count on you and expect big things of you.
Growing up, growing old. I was never afraid of such thing. Life is like that, the only thing you have to do is enjoy every day of it. Telling the ones you love that you love them, showing the world what are you capable of, getting new chances of meeting yourself under different circumstances.
Being scared, being happy, being sad, being depressed, being stressed and being euphoric. We are humans and that is how we work.
I have always been more an inventor.
Planning, creating, imagining, building, sharing, enjoying. Ideas, that was my goal, that was my reason to keep moving forward.
Percy's Reaction to Mark of Athena"LET ME IN YOU STUPID EXCUSE OF A WRITER OR I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS ON OLYMPUS YOU WON'T LIVE TO WRITE ANOTHER BOOK!"Percy's Reaction to Mark of Athena2 years ago in Humor More Like This
"Maybe you should let him in?" J.K Rowling suggested as Rick Roirdan continued to barricade the door with anything he could find, chairs, books, tables anything that would stop Percy getting through the door.
"Are you crazy? He's going to kill me." Rick replied; his face paling as his voice quivered in fear.
"Then why in the name of the angel did you end the book with "
"RICK RIORDAN LET ME IN! PLEASE?" Percy begged from the other side.
"He won't kill you." Rowling rolled her eyes. "If he kills you then he'll die because he can't live without you." Sighing Rick removed the objects and pulled the door open.
"That sounds like a really messed up love story." Cassandra Clare commented."An author and their character, trapped inside a web of forbidden love..."
"Still a better love story than twilight." J.K added. Stephanie Meyer bit her lip as she hoovere
Crashed PaperCrashed Paper3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She may seem tall as a skyscraper,
But inside she's destroyed like crashed paper.
"Do you see this crack?
Yesterday you called me fat.
Do you see this scratch?
You made it feel like a punch.
Do you see this rip?
I still can't smile because of it"
Now try fixing it back to the way it was before,
But this kind of scars will always feel sore.
ThomarieSongfic Just so u knowThomas POVThomarieSongfic Just so u know4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Tengo que dejar de pensar en ella. No se puede, Thomas. Simplemente no."
Esas son las únicas palabras en mi mente. Las cuales repito, una y otra vez.
Sólo para convencerme a mí mismo de que es imposible. Que la primera vez que siento algo especial por alguien, es imposible y raro.
Arrojo mi mochila, sin darme cuenta antes de que está abierta, lo que provoca que todos mis cuadernos y libros queden desparramados por todo mi cuarto.
"Definitivamente, no es buen día"
¡Es el peor día de todos!
Hoy he quedado como el más estúpido de la clase, por culpa de esa pelirroja sonriente.
Ya va una semana desde que me comencé a sentir incómodo a su lado.
Una semana, desde que comencé a sentir como mi estómago se revolvía y mis manos sudaban al sólo escuchar su voz.
Sólo una semana. Pero, hoy hoy fue el peor día de todos.
Soy el primero de la clase. Bueno, Mari
The MaskThe Mask2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
As I'm grasping this other man's hand
The society circling us goes ka-boom at us
Take out stun guns like this is their land
But to save ourselves
We put on the mask
As I walk around in the blank halls of school
The kids turn to me and screech at me
'Cause to them, I'm like a devils tool
But to hide myself
I put on the mask
As I browse through my social network site
The adults purport shameful messages on my wall
They believe I'm a hero for grotesque sights
But to block myself
I make my profile picture the mask
As the years go by, I rise up stronger
As the time flies, I am set on fire
One can abhor me
But I am sick of the mask
As I walk around the blank halls of school
The kids turn to me and screech at me
'Cause to them, I'm like a devils tool
But the mask is now gone
And I'll let them hammer me down
Because in the end
I will not be a chicken
I desire to be a martyr
For men who want to hold the hands of men
Because that my friend
Is what God calls true love
JOYJOY4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
JOY comes by putting (J)esus first, (O)thers second, and (Y)ourself last.
If you have JOY in your life: comment and say it loud and proud!
PnF - In loveA decir verdad y para ser completamente honesto consigo mismo, jamás, nunca, se había sentido tan nervioso. Todas aquellas ocasiones previas en las que la cordura parecía balancearse en un fino hilo de vida no eran más que pequeños intentos del corazón por desbordarse. Ese día, en especial, no había ninguna gran idea, solo un gran cosquilleo en su interior. Abrió la puerta de la habitación y una hermosa luz blanca entraba por la ventana, iluminado hasta donde la vista alcanzaba. Entró con sigilo, cerrando la puerta tras sí y tomó un profundo respiro antes de caminar hacia la cama y sentarse en un costado.PnF - In love4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Estaba ella dormida en la cama, inmóvil bajo la luz blanca, y su corazón se estremeció, como si fuego invadiera su pecho. Pasó sus dedos por el cabello ébano y una sonrisa surcó el rostro de la bella durmiente. Un leve suspiro y la vida regresó a sus ojos zafiro cuando giró el rost
Thomarie - mas allaThomarie: mas alláThomarie - mas alla4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Como cualquiera de los otros días de instituto, Marie, la joven mas hermosa que había en la secundaria, y a la vez la mas distraída, caminaba tarareando alegremente una canción que siempre había oído de su madre y de su padre, los cuales alegaban que alguna vez fue uno de los mas grandes éxitos de Danville, Marie lo hubiera dudado de no ser porque en el centro comercial de la ciudad siempre tocaban dicha música en el ascensor, de cualquier manera la letra le encantaba pero no sabía por qué, caminó hacia su casillero y se recargó en él mirando distraídamente el suelo hasta que alguien llegó frente a ella, levantó la mirada y sonrió dulcemente
-Hola Thomy dijo ella alegremente- ¿Qué tal te ha ido en el examen de cálculo? el joven de cabello oscuro de nombre Thomas le enseñó una hoja con una enorme A+
-si supongo que debí imaginármelo,
A Punctual ConfessionA Punctual ConfessionA Punctual Confession8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm sort of a parenthesis fanboy:
they are perfect for many occasions
(like minor asides), and the curvature alone
can be breathtaking (note the sexual
connotations). Of all punctuation,
they are most sensual, cupping
the precious and the pertinent
(and the naughtily off-topic).
In fact, they really get around.
I've seen them used improperly,
when a dash (or a comma) would suffice;
what's more, they sometimes allow
the lengthy exclamation points inside them
(how shameful!), as if that wasn't illegal,
or at least intensely frowned upon
by grey-skirt grammarians
and their merciless red pens.
But as often as they desert me
(for other writers) or lead me astray
(promoting tangential avenues of thought),
I will return to them, and use them
judiciously, because I sometimes need
to be separate from the ordinary, and
because I too need to be held.
Self Harm isn't Funny.It's not.Self Harm isn't Funny.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
So why do you continue to laugh?
Is it really that funny to you?
Well, you wouldn't laugh if you'd known what me and these other people have been through.
You use silly labels such as "emo" and "psycho" to anyone who does it.
Is that really appropriate?
Let me explain something to you.
Some people self harm because of bullying.
I've been there myself.
Some people self harm because of family problems.
Some people self harm because of personal problems they may not want to share.
Self harm is caused by many things and believe me, it's one of the least funniest things to have happened in this world.
So let me ask you this:
How would you feel if someone was dragging you down everyday with harmful words?
How would you feel if you were constantly getting harassed online?
How would you feel if you received physical attacks everyday?
How would you feel if untrue rumors were going around about you?
How would you feel if your family turned against you?
How would you feel if you
For want of self-esteem.I am that girl.For want of self-esteem.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The one in the corner.
The quiet one.
The stupid one.
The lonely one.
I am that girl.
The one nobody cares about.
The one who is constantly teased.
The coward who cries herself to sleep at night.
I am the one who wants to be free,
to be able to stand up for myself.
I am the one who wants to say,
Yes, this is who I am.
Thank you for your opinions,
but I love who I am.
And I am Not going to change!
How to Write a SestinaIn order to write a sestina,How to Write a Sestina10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you must start by being unsure,
quickly switching from cold to hot
to cold and to hot again,
the temperature being like a cat
in the Sahara desert at dusk.
Sit on your porch at dusk,
watch the clouds create their sestinas.
As you watch, allow your cat
beside you, her tongue lapping unsurely
from a cup. Look up again,
wonder if milk would be hot
if left out. It is hot;
There is a heat about dusk.
Forget. Forget about the poem again,
Look around. Everywhere, there are sestinas.
Not just in the cool, unsure
ripples your cat
makes, the gentle clink clink your cat's
teeth make as she tips her hot
tongue against her cup. In unsure
clouds, sestinas. Not just in dusk
either. And mosquitoes make stinging sestinas.
Crumple a sheet of paper. Again.
Now throw it out, again and again.
Eventually, sensing a toy, your cat
will chase it. Wonder what a sestina
really is. The pen will feel hot
in your hand. Take some paper. Dusk
is now ending; Be absolutely sure
this time yo
The MarksThe Marks3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I meet new people
They seem nice
I do not judge
By their cover
No matter their personality
I always check
Do I see another,
To whom I can compare to?
Do I see those scars?
Do I see the pain?
I cannot help but look
No matter who they are
I want to know
That I may not be
The only one I know
Going through this mess
relearning i. stardust scatters with therelearning2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
direction of my pupils –
maybe secretly i am an
astrology teacher, waiting
for a sign to wink
happily at me.
ii. excuse the rambling
nature of forgotten question
marks, but tell me:
would you like to be the
object of handwritten clichés
would you like to whisper
secrets in my palm
and would you
like to be the possibility
iii. air brushes against my
skin like the torn petals
of a flower still standing.
[ hold your head up high, honey,
and tell tomorrow to wait just
iv. so you can figure out
the difference between
patience and having all the
time in the world. ]
v. stardust glitters from the
creases of my hands.
perhaps i am not the teacher
but the pupil,
relearning how brilliant
stars can shine.
Words for the firesideTear down the walls and reclaim that feeling:Words for the fireside4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The wind in your hair is the wings of your heart
is the flower of freedom at last.
It was the rooster I heard
at the crack of dawn,
but that is not what woke me.
That lonely spirit of the rebel
pulled my bones up and on
into the cold, cold morning.
And over the hills it drove me
over the grass, the green and the blue
I felt like going forever;
don't ask me the reason, don't ask me where to.
You'll never read this letter
because you'll never want to know
just what happened
and why it could have been your fault.
I like to imagine that in the smoke
rising from its ashes
you will feel just a hint of its contents -
a fleeting shadow
of your guilt.
Will your back bend with
the curve of the letters?
Will your heart drain of ink?
Or will you smile and forget
like the fool
that I know?