running sharply from your tongue
embracing my aching heart
crushing it to dust
Evidence you created
emerging from your mouth
tears rolling down the valleys of your face
brow furrowed in desperate screaming
Appearing for all the world
as the victim of self satisfaction
your rage making almost truths
from disconnected incidents
Real world affections
rolling out of me and over you
like raindrops in the ocean.
I'm Even More Homeless NowTrigger warnings for: homophobia, depression, anorexia, self-harm, suicideI'm Even More Homeless Now3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My home was Venezuela. Forget what you've been told about the gorgeous coastlines, about the angelic waterfall, about the snow-peaked mountains. Those were saved for rich foreigners who could afford to fly in for a few days and forget about the rest of the world theirs and mine.
But I should stop being so dramatic. The people I lived with and me, we were in the middle-class. I had no idea what that meant at the time, of course. All I knew was that the black beans were plentiful, the cheese was sweet, the meat was savoury, and there were enough cachapas to last my whole life; the mall nearby was the most beautiful, plentiful, mysterious building I'd ever find; I worked through books like a termite through wood and I loved them more than anything; everyone else was just like me; and this was the best of all possible worlds.
But I was a little stupid boy. When I was six, I was bro
The Sound of TypingHe was an artist, once.The Sound of Typing3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Theological Discussion"Is there a God?"Theological Discussion3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Ugly Girls and Lonely BoysSo I heard you like the beautiful girls well I knowUgly Girls and Lonely Boys3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The ones with the legs that get their hair to flow
Softly and teasing men with perfection
It means girls like me don't get mentioned
Lonely boys write lonely words about perfect girls
And lonely girls watch their lonely boys love perfect girls
And just let me tell you, under this ugly chest
An ugly heart is breaking because you followed the rest
We're all fallen angelsI drew sidewalk wingsWe're all fallen angels6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in chalk and watched the shadow
wear them for you.
Re: God's Love"I think its so sad that people are so caught up in blindness that they can't see me trying to help them."Re: God's Love6 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
We are not blind.............WE DONT WANT YOUR HELP!
Do you see me knocking on your door telling you what you should believe? I am stuffing Atheism down your throat? If we want to "find" God we know exactly where to find him every Sunday morning, and occasionally during the week.
"There is so much evidence that points to God but the hard thing is that only people who are even slightly open minded can even begin to see it"
Maybe through your perception, such a statement may be true but through the perceptions of others such a statement may be false.
"Its hard for me to sit back and watch people walk down a road that will destroy them. Dang free will!"
Perhaps it is you that is on the wrong path, how many religions are there in the world? How is it that YOURS and ONLY YOURS is the right path, while everyone else is wrong?
Haiku: Finding the Right WordsIt is hard to speakHaiku: Finding the Right Words6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
when seventeen syllables
is all you have left.
The Smell of RainAll the friends who left in SpringThe Smell of Rain3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Indicated that rationality was futile
And the world was a better place
Without you in it.
It is hot, but smells of thunder.
Please don't wake me. I was dreaming.
I can't remember what about,
But it had to be better than this.
The windows are open, so you can't turn on the light
And resort to writing these faded words in the dark.
It is probable that you are lonely,
But saying it aloud is as inadequate as imagination.
It seems like the right place for an interlude.
But I shouldn't think about suicide too much.
It makes the walls change colour.
It makes you seem further away.
Distance, language, emptiness and the sound of crickets lamenting.
You can see it, can't you?
The way that light clings to the skin because it has nowhere to go
And the concept of being lost aches like December.
It has to hold on to something,
To prevent it from simply being an illusion
For an audience with their eyes closed.
I used to be like you. Then I woke up.
And found that I
"The GOP and Lesbian Porn""The GOP and Lesbian Porn"10 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
"The GOP and Lesbian Porn"
by Jay Richard
There was an Election Party at the Campus Center during the 2004 Presidential Election. It started at 8:00 PM and went on until God only knows when. At the time I was in my dorm and talking to people online while following CNN and Yahoo! News. Unfortunately, everyone I knew was either busy, somewhere else, or online and about to leave.
The election was going depressingly well for Bush. I had expected that fear and ignorance would do that sort of thing. I tried not to act too depressed -- there was still California, Florida, and Ohio. I got my scarf and coat and decided to take a ten minute walk to the Campus Center for lack of anything better to do.
There were only two Atkins-friendly soda cans left by the time I arrived. It was all business majors sitting around drinking soda and talking about stuff not relating to the elections, any of the elections, in the damnedest. CNN was on the TVs there, for all the good that did. Two people seemed to a
We Call Ourselves PoetsWe Call Ourselves Poets7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We call ourselves poets,
yet we steal words like criminals.
I got ten points for originality,
Too bad zero of it was mine.
I've got notebooks full of other peoples thoughts.
I could write my own,
But yours sound so much better.
Bring on the lies, bring on the lies;
There's a reason I write fiction.
Tell me, when did plagiarism become my profession?
KidnappedI've been kidnapped.Kidnapped4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Instead of school, I'm here
following the mailman's boots
and surveying my new land.
Inside there are dogs
and sausage pudding
and manuscripts tapping their fingers against the desk.
They're waiting for me in there.
But I've been kidnapped.
Snow. Snow stole me,
got me out, paid bail in two-foot drifts
and made me a welcome home party,
covering the leaves I forgot to rake,
decorating the fence with six-inch high powdered wigs.
I'm flattered, impressed, amazed
because even though I know what's here,
I'm seeing it all new again.
Clean and sparkling and untouched.
I know it's there, underneath,
but still, I'm glad I'm here,
There can wait. Inside can wait.
Here, above, I can dream
and imagine I am well.
The Alphabet MeansalwaysThe Alphabet Means4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
begging the question of
endless meanings of
flighty symbols who
gesticulate to a purpose
harmless, supposedly, this language, these linguistic tricks of
jumping to and fro
keeping pace with political correctness
largely thanks to those who
move the world,
navigating meaning and
obstacles that form around and
perpetuate the errors in our
questionable assumptions about
signs/symbols/signifiers signified by abstract
truths that have no meaning,
vocalize a sound in
wanton unison, extolling
yelling, denying instability as it
zig-zags across the surface of our society
Open Your Eyes, Open Your MindPeople I beg of you to wake up.Open Your Eyes, Open Your Mind6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Open your eyes.
Open your mind.
Turn off your television.
Feed you brain, not your belly.
People I beg of you to wake up.
Open your eyes.
Open your mind.
The American Dream has lulled you to sleep.
People I beg of you to wake up.
Open your eyes.
Open your mind.
The revolution is upon us and it will not be televised.
13 DaysWhenever I try to write, I feel my fingers scoop against the pitted back of my skull and I want to hurl. I've dug through all the sand there,13 Days4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
taken all the seashells,
collected all the seaglass,
made every baby turtle pop from the dank to the surface.
Nothing is left but sand and the nosedive of my fingers through clouds of theorums and equations (none of which are chained to the proper place).
Thirteen days left.
I can feel the G-force making my stomach spin. Just thirteen days before I swipe away dust and, my hand sunk up to the wrist in the parched grains,
I flip the sand over,
leaving the side soaked in seawater
to char in the sun.
No answersNo answers6 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
This is a story of how it began.
This is a story of how it ended.
This is a story of five-letter words
like no said two and a half times.
His words were blue stains on the canvas and the birds I drew in the canvas sky were the uneven check marks of his top lip. I wanted to draw his eyes, but he always kept them lowered.
Who was I to change that?
Three months ago he went through his short story, took out all the verbs.
"I don't want the romance to go anywhere," he said.
His girlfriend rolled her eyes and told him that he'd never make it as an artist. It was a joke, but she wasn't smiling.
Three days ago, she said, pausing in the doorway:
"I guess I'm just hungrier than you're artistic. Should have gotten a job."
Once upon a time, I saw him sitting near the exit and came over, cutting off the waiter as he reached for the check. He wasn't brave enough to walk away without paying. The light from th
No One KnowsWhen my eyes are closedNo One Knows4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are there to love me
But awake I've found that
I just can not believe
Do you really love me?
I can only hope it
I'm lonely on my own and
I hope that I can cope it
Boys, I really love you
And girls I hate to say
It's hard to fall in love
When no one knows you're gay
deviantART Popularity Contest Amongst the retards- sorry, deviants- there seems to be a growing rift. The issue is a simple one: Should deviantART be a popularity contest? The stupidity it would require to even care about such a minor issue is beyond me, but I'll still attempt to waste away your pitiful arguments.deviantART Popularity Contest6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
For starters, popularity has just become a massive buzz word. What the bloody fuck is it supposed to MEAN? Lots of pageviews? Lots of favorites? Lots of watchers? Or, how about the way I see it- a lot of people who read/see what you produce, and happen to like it?
It's a fucking public website where you post art, in the hopes that people will see it. How can you NOT want popularity? Oh, the art matters, not the numbers! Well, where do you think the numbers come from? Socialite asshats who only stalk you because you're friends and, of course, people who really ARE interested in whatever piece of shit you let the entir