Without chainsi. Nightmares fall from my eyes like a thousand tiny stars, glittering like silver doves at four-in-the-morning, when everyone should be asleep and yet no one really is, and there's nothing I can do to stop their fallWithout chains3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
there's nothing I can do to stop your fall
ii. In the darkness, I can hear you breathe.
"Just close your eyes," you whisper, "and everything's going to be all right."
The nightmares keep falling, crashing on the sheets like the lies from your lips.
You loved lying more than you loved me.
IndiaThe sea took'd me...India2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And oh my country of newlywed clouds how I remember you, dust and rain
and mud and spice in air. And in summer, baking roads and hot languages; a million
dialects, or eight hundred: I never learned you, I never will. I only loved you and I think
that is not enough, perhaps it never was, but how do I know? I know loneliness,
and how can you know that? I was a child, am a child, am something less or more now
And how can you think of beauty? Do you hear yourself? Your radios are blaring
noise; your television shows are preaching idiocy to a million people
who hear and conscious or not, listen. I've been away from you so long
that my tongue has unravelled. When I tried, people assured me
I was tongue-tied. Someone told me I spoke true, but I have never
answered you. You have never asked me to.
There's a sadness in me somewhere, now,
it could be hiding in my soul but the
Summer WomanWoman, you are my burnt sienna sculpture on Sun-days.Summer Woman3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are hiding my strength in rufous hair
and I feel you: russet-flushed to the touch,
jagged collarbone curving into neck,
easing into shoulders, into breasts;
woman, you are the warmest stone –
you are summery stone
to my water-drenched hands.
Woman in deepest reverie, you are hiding
my strength in pacific oceans of titian;
in running veins. My grasp
slips from skin slopes of sun and stone,
slips from you.
Woman of ragged flint and oil,
in sleep, your wind-kissed stone-neck drifts,
surges into a soft arch in air –
and does not meet ground;
and does not bow.
Thirst of a Poetthe bards have bumblebees in their mouths,Thirst of a Poet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for language is babbling,
a brook in a bowl, joy brimming;
billowing, rippling, surging
and spilling; sashaying down,
with a swaying sound (oh-so wistful, oh).
language is burbling,
an impish kiss of mouth from mouth;
bewildering, baffling, bemusing
and tricking; tumbling round,
to touch a fellow Fool and his nought (so wistful, oh),
and disturbs a Poet, who slips
into a dream of a vagabond
"where are you calling from?" he murmurs,
in his sleep, and the newspaper flutters
with a snore; then rests on his chin (just so, oh),
and language sidles past him up to me,
and places a river upon my lips,
EmoA tear seems to fall from spaceEmo8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and land on her check.
It adds to a river
that falls off her chin.
The stain of blood on her sleeve,
She looks at her arm
with pulsing eyes she stares at the blood,
like her tears, running.
Afraid of her peers comments
labeling her for something she is not.
Emo, the word rang sourly.
The tears ran faster,
as though racing the blood.
Her black hair clings to her face,
and again she cuts.
One for the laughter,
Once for the looks,
another for her pain,
Her arm pulsing,
One for the names,
One more for the pushing.
She watches her pain drain from her arm.
She smiles, then thinks,
they will pull back her sleeve
and laugh at her pain, again.
Emo, the word rand sourly.
Emo, she thought.
Emo, she said out loud
and she cried.
EmoEmo?Emo6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is it really that bad?
you cant accept the fact
that i get a little sad?
that i am a little mad?
so i favor black
and i dont like pink
you use those as reasons
to make my soul sink
so some of us cut
and some of us dont
we can smile
laugh love and live
we're just not like the rest
sure we cry
we want to die
but none of you understand
its not like we had planned
to live life like this
to spend our days
depressed and amiss
we're not bad people
we dont worship satan
we're not out to kill anyone
we just dont like the world
as much as everyone else
and we dont like ourselves
as much as we could
but we're ok with that
you can call us ugly
you can call us fat
but you cant change who we are
we are emo
whats so wrong with that?
The debunking of atheist stereotypesHello~! My name is Maddie and I am an atheist. Recently I've been hearing a lot of "facts" about atheists that've been very offensive to me, so I've decided to set the record straight with a few statements of my own about us as people and what we actually believe in. One or two of the points will vary from person to person so I apologize if I write something that doesn't fit the description of an atheist out there. Let's get started!The debunking of atheist stereotypes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Debunking number 1:
Atheism is NOT a religion. To put it simply, saying that atheism is a religion is like saying not playing basketball is a sport. It just isn't. The definition of religion is "The belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, esp. a personal God or gods" therefor there is no way that atheism is a religion due to the fact that we don't believe in the existence of gods.
Debunking number 2:
Atheists don't worship Satan. Remember that thing about how we don't believe in gods? Yeah? If we
Hospital Collection: GentleG asks my name.Hospital Collection: Gentle5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
He says I look so gentle;
that I move in soft waves.
We dont speak of the policeman I fought
or the security guard I punched in the face.
We dont speak of the four doctors
and the psychiatrist and nurse
that had to restrain me during an episode.
We dont talk about being in the acutes ward.
We dont speak of the twisted scars,
or my raw, bleeding hands.
You look gentle he said.
What Twilight Has Taught MeWhat Twilight Has Taught Me2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
After reading the Twilight series and revisiting said series in the three available movies that are currently out, I have learned many valuable lessons which I feel I should spell out plainly for any of you curious readers out there.
Relationships Advice: Twilight Style
For the dudes...
1.) Behaving in a stand-offish, curt, and morose manner is the only way to properly attract a member of the opposite sex. It doesn't matter if you clearly have emotional barriers and a severe lack of care for your fellow man - if you behave like a dick, you will get chicks!
2.) Stalking is fine, as long as you are a) conventionally attractive, and b) 'can't help yourself.' This goes double for breaking and entering!
3.) Keeping secrets from your partner is fine, even if keeping those secrets threatens the life of said partner.
4.) Leaving your co-dependent, mentally unstable, and possibly socially retarded partner in a sudden and cruel manner is perfectly fine as long as you're d
mercyThere is no mercy in thismercy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this space that we don't share and the
distance. You are the water
that I'm drowning in and it isn't
the good kind of not-breathing. I'm wishing
that summer wasn't so long and
I had ways to forget you.
But I don't
have anything but thunder and storybooks,
tears and memories of nothing worth recalling.
And there you are going on living and
I am sorry that I can't
be the sky or the sea for you.
I'm sorry that I don't have what it takes
to make you smile at me.
Hospital Collection: JellybeanWhy Jellybeans Are Better Than People.Hospital Collection: Jellybean5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
- Jellybeans come in all shapes, sizes and colours.
- Some are twisted and deformed, some are broken, some are shrunken and half-formed. But jellybeans dont whisper, persecute of discriminate against other jellybeans.
- Jellybeans have simple needs. And they dont ask for much.
- Jellybeans are bright and smooth to touch.
- With jellybeans, what you see is what you get.
- Jellybeans dont hate or love or feel guilt and regret.
- Jellybeans dont get jealous if you eat another jellybean first.
- Jellybeans are there for you, for better or for worse.
- Jellybeans taste better than human flesh.
- Jellybeans dont require gravestones after death.
How To Fix ThingsDon't pray for meHow To Fix Things5 years ago in Open More Like This
Don't pray for change
Don't pray for peace
Don't pray for truth
Look for truth
Strive for peace
Work for change
Think for yourself
HomeIt is a twenty minute journey from one world to another; from the city centre to the suburbs and from the present to the past.Home3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Orange lamplight and the smell of flowers are my greeting as I get off the bus. Curtains are drawn in most of the windows, cars parked in the driveways to rest before the morning rush. The silence is stunning. Only far off in the distance, I hear the clink of a bottleneck shattered on a curb – another failed attempt at opening a drink, another small mishap to replace entertainment for the night.
I walk on. I am a stranger in these streets of my childhood. Only at the corner of my vision, I still see the world as it was back then; a sunny day before the children are send to bed. I see myself riding my bike and making treasures of the most ordinary things. Once, an old tire had turned into a boat for me. It sat on a sandy patch at the edge of the forest, far away from any water, but still it was an adventure only waiting to be found.
But all that happened b
"Brotherhood""Brotherhood"3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I look around and see people holding out their hands,
But they always come away empty handed.
Everyone acts like they don't see them at all.
They want to be accepted,
They want to be loved or just to have someone help them.
My eyes fill with tears as I see another person trampled under
A new pair of Italian shoes.
Has life advanced so far that we don't need one another anymore?
I sat on my front porch this morning and admired the beautiful sun rise
On the south western sky. The deep reds and bright purples blinded me
And I drifted off into a day dream filled with birds humming around bright
Colored flowers and beautiful mountains in the back ground.
I came back to earth wondering how I could help my fellow man?
This scared me. How can I help man kind? Maybe I should donate money?
No that's too cold. Maybe I should give all my worldly belonging to the poor?
Still to cold and that would make me the poor.
Then it came to me like a bolt of lightning hitting me!
I will start out small by li
SchmetterlingsfaengerSie kniete mitten im hohen Gras, umgeben von schwankenden Halmen. Löwenzahnsamen verfingen sich in ihrem Haar. Der Blick des Mädchens war nach oben gerichtet, zum strahlenden Blau des Sommerhimmels. Sie schien auf irgendetwas zu warten.Schmetterlingsfaenger1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Zögernd machte Theo ein paar Schritte auf sie zu. Er hatte sie noch nie gesehen; wahrscheinlich war sie ein Feriengast oder gerade erst zugezogen. Sie hatte ihn noch nicht bemerkt.
Ganz langsam hob das Mädchen etwas in die Höhe. Das Sonnenlicht brach sich darauf und helle Lichtpunkte tanzten über die Wiese – ein Glas. Es war ein großes Einmachglas, wie Theos Großmutter sie benutzte. Was wollte die Fremde damit? Sie benahm sich ohne Zweifel ziemlich seltsam, aber dennoch war sie im Moment die einzige gleichaltrige Gesellschaft, die ihm geblieben war. Seine Freunde waren gleich zu Beginn der großen Ferien in den Urlaub gefahren.
„Was machst du da?", fragte Theo. Er stand nun direkt hinter dem Mädchen, doch sie blieb einfach reglos sitzen und hielt ihr Gla
RainOnce upon a time,Rain8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
(Because isn’t that how all stories begin?),
The earth was a barren and dry wasteland.
With nothing more to grow on it than sand and rocks.
The folks who lived here liked this just fine.
Plenty of room to walk until you were so tired all you could do was lay on the ground and sunbath.
And once upon this time,
There lived a very small girl.
Not because she was particularly young, in fact she was as old as the sand dunes,
She was just small.
Her name was Blue.
This was because she loved to stare into the sky and marvel at its color.
She decided she liked it so much, it would be her color too.
Everyone mocked her for this.
They found her navy skin and aqua hair silly.
And so they said so.
Blue never thought much of this, but her brothers did.
They thought constantly about her strangeness.
And worried that her strangeness might rub off onto them.
Their friends had told them it would after all.
Their parents had told them that was silly afte
Too Many WordsThis is the story of a girl who loved to talk. Who was raw and intense and looked at the world through a child's eyes. This girl loved Rembrandt since she was a child, and worshiped the very idea of language. And as she grew older, she would find artisans on the streets of the meaty country she lived in, poor and old and collect them. She would give them food and money, and they, in turn, would teach her their crafts. Woodworking, metal, clay...she wanted to while her life away in the fascination of learning it all.Too Many Words3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And telling someone all about it.
Her parents, and the people closest to her, you see, didn't understand what it was all about. They didn't appreciate the skill of the artisan. Not even a little bit.
"Go away." her mother would tell her when she talked about the beauty of the craftsmen, and then ignore her. "Too many words." the man she loved would tell her when she spoke of the old woodworker artisan who lived down the street. "I really don't care." her brother would roll
hurricanes"What are we thinking today?"hurricanes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm thinking about hurricanes,
the ones in our souls. These things that
I cannot forget.
We are nothing but rain,
so much rain and so
many breaths taken in the dark without
places to run too. And you say "You write poems"
You write them for her"
And I think,
What am I supposed to do. It's
freezing and these
are the things that remind me of her voice.
Scales Of Life01010010 01001001 01010011 01000101 - We begin our quest on the scales of lifeScales Of Life6 months ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I- The newborn wolf cub: The first emotion reflected in his tired eyes is that of mystery; a
curious devotion to the enigma of the moonbeams that cut through the trees, reflecting in
his inexperienced gaze. He calls out to the blinding light, beckons for its shadowed silence,
and eventually finds comfort in the embrace of mother's love. In that moment, he hears no
cruel sound his purity can't contest. He shuts
out the light as he slowly drifts away to rest. // Perfection was a value whose worth /
//was queried due to Perfection's birth./
Fixing the StarsThe river flowed calmly deep below, waves rippling silver across the dark surface. A woman stood at the bridge's balustrade and gazed down into the depth. The pavement was still wet from a rain a few hours earlier; a rain she didn't even remember anymore. Wind was playing with her hair as she swung one leg over to the other side, paused, and then placed her second foot next to the first. Now she was on the edge of the bridge, high above the water gurgling on the piers.Fixing the Stars4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Are you looking at the stars?“
The woman glanced back over her shoulder. There was a little girl, no older than seven, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and plushy shoes on her feet. The woman turned away again.
“I guess I was … looking at the stars on the river.”
“Do you know what they are?” The girl came closer, stood on tiptoes to peer over the balustrade and up at the woman's face. “My brother says stars are really just big lumps of rock waaay high up in the
Truly HumbledEvery time I look up at the night sky,Truly Humbled2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I am reminded of how beautiful will it be to fly
into space, get up close and touch the stars,
for it feels so near yet so incredibly far.
The knowledge that I came from Star dusts,
is a knowledge I keep comfort in and trust
To think I am related to everything in the Universe
is the most beautiful knowledge, I have ever immersed.
To think that all of what exists, living or non-living
are all related to us pulls my heart strings.
To the smallest micro-organisms
to the Universe itself.
But through all that relations, I stand as myself,
a Human Being on a pale blue dot I call home.
The Universe is indeed a very big place,
but yet somehow I don't feel out of place
I may not feel powerful or significant to this Universe
yet I feel extremely happy to have known and learn about this,
for it excites me to be part of this vast and expansive Universe,
and for that I am truly humbled.
Brendon Tan Xing Ming
CadenceMy wrist, the soft hollow of a violinCadence4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the cold blade, the bow
each stroke a sweet, soft note in my skull
every touch a chord
from the gentle echoes of my soul.
I slide diminuendos on a silver stave
every scale turning sorrow into song
each smooth scar becomes a symphony
toneless harmonies played lifelong.
Every bruise is a crescendo
turning my breath to hymns
it reverberates into shadow
a vibrato etched into the skin
and I, the quiet maestro,
waiting for the voices of the crowd
to whisper against my ribs, my chest
staring through the silk bones to my heart.