The OrchidBefore my mother died,The Orchid2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she gave me a blue potted orchid, with
soft pink strips running down the center of the petals.
When I saw it, my face turned red,
so I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.
I sat on the lid of the toilet, dreaming of
mermaids and bird-watching and lullabies.
Nine years later, I leave the bathroom,
snatch the orchid from the chandelier,
grab my shovel from the kitchen,
and run upstairs into the backyard,
where I bury the wilting plant
six and a half feet into the ground.
The Labyrinth of London:Pie Day to the Third PowerThe Labyrinth of London:Pie Day to the Third Power2 months ago in Romance More Like This
The Labyrinth of London
Pie Day to the Third Power: The Turkey Trinity
A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover
“The Thin White Sleuth…”
Summary: Being so close to her due date, Sarah is unable to fly out to her family’s home for Thanksgiving. Jareth tries to remedy this. Just before Christmas in “His Last Trick”.
The Almighty Disclaimer
Oh Moffat and Gatiss and Thompson,
Henson and Doyle,
To you belongs all the characters
And none so for me!
A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique.
Sarah heaved a great sigh as she collapsed on the sofa of 221B after coming home from work. Jareth turned from the piano where he was composing. “Precious, did you have a rough day?”
“I no longer strike terror in the hearts of men,” Sarah mumbled.
Yin/YangYangYin/Yang2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Heads or tails?"
He always picks heads.
I flipped the coin.
I'm such a liar.
I roll my eyes.
He climbed onto the swing,
so I got behind him
She walked seven steps in seven seconds, then stopped for seven seconds before starting again. Eventually, she grew tired of the pattern, and began
By the time she arrived home, her legs were burning and her mouth tasted bitter with rhythm.
Keep Living, JackKeep Living, Jack3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Keep Living, Jack
To my dearest Jack.
I know you told me not to write, but you said those words in anger. I wanted to send one sooner, but things became complicated. I miss your smile, your eyes, the touch of your lips, having your arms around me. But most of all, I miss the sound of your voice. I wish I could hear it once more; it would be like serenity for my ears. I miss how we would just lay with each other in silence, knowing that neither of us had to speak to express our emotions. I loved how you knew what to say and do to make me smile, you always knew.
Remember when you left that trail of roses going from the front door to the bathtub? You were waiting for me in there, acting as if you were asleep, and when I came to look, you pulled me in. I laughed until tears came, and I kissed you until you knew how much it meant to me. That will always be my favorite moment of us.
I regret that our relationship took the road to ruin. Though it's only been a few years, it seems like it was
PearlsThe freshwater pearl necklacePearls2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
didn't go with jeans, tank tops, shorts,
oversized sweaters, nightmares,
tangled hair, broken clocks,
or old tee shirts,
but I still wore it
as part of a perpetual tribute
to the woman who gave it to me.
until it broke in the bathtub,
and pearls went flying everywhere,
and my momma paid
for it to be locked in a drawer.
The Suicide PhotographerI am a photographer.The Suicide Photographer2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
People hate my work. You may ask why, but when you see my shots, you'll understand. My work is very controversial. I am sadly proud of my photos, for I may be the only one who's adopted this style.
I capture photos of suicide.
No matter where I go, I carry my camera with me, ready to shoot anything that may happen. There's surprisingly a lot of suicides in this city and the next city over. I've gotten beautiful shots.
The most common ones are those of people jumping from buildings. Of course, there's usually a crowd of people pleading for the person to come down, so I know right away what I am about to get. I stand to get a good perspective, hold up my camera, and snap the photo right as the person plunges to their demise. I take a couple one after the other so I make sure to get the perfect shot. People surrounding me shout at me and call me heartless.
On the contrary, I am more caring than them. That person wanted to end their life, so they had a perfect reason t
Eyes of an Angel - Part 1 of 2Eyes of an Angel (Part one of two.)Eyes of an Angel - Part 1 of 28 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Now, Ellena, what did your grandmother tell you about playing in the swamp?" The voice that asked the question was soft and far from scolding. Every word that the young woman spoke seemed to be wrapped in love and tied with a smile. For some, such a caring tone would be reserved for only those dearest to them, but for Jessica it just came naturally. For her, every being - human or animal, living or dead - was precious.
That didn't make the child who sat before her any less nervous, the petite girl biting her lip and hanging her head forward so that her chestnut bangs partially hid her face. Far shorter than Jessica's own locks, they were also quite a bit darker and did an admirable job of casting the girl's face into sullen shadow. "She... she saids ta always make sure ta wash my hands afore I ate, 'cause I could get disee... dizel... I could get sick." Sp
Song for a Dying DogTo our dog, Geddy, mixed, Rottweiler-Cocker spaniel, 16 years oldSong for a Dying Dog1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
In a language that transcends language,
I would say the words love
pushed me to say, letting go in an instant.
Empty light of stars rained down
for me to hold against your ears, listen:
the soft click, click of dying light.
Mom whispers sutras, every one
she knows leaves the tongue: Long, rolling
coiling words that capture the nothingness
you are heading off to. A boat, a doggy house,
your old friends in the dying light.
The sun against the house, colored
like tinted sugar, a birthday cake
made of cream and condensed milk,
a thousand of the sweetest things
to fall against the bitterness of the throat.
I hold you, I hold you
like a dream in the morning
I write this in the hopes that you
will take it along (in some form
or another) as you enter the new world.
Your paws will scuff the paperwork-ed desk
and the long-faced attendants will chase
after you like grief chases
love, and song, and summer blossoms.
HekateBlackened lake and cauldron deepHekate6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Wisdom is the key you keep
Death and darkness is your hold
Magic, mysteries in your fold.
"Queen of Witches, Queen of hell"
Fate's story is your own to tell
Death is not your only grace
Our rebirth are the lines etched in your face.
You bear the torch to guide the way
Into the shadows where our true selves lay
Surrender in strength is the key
To unlock this hidden mystery.
Mold Greg was cleaning behind his toilet on a Friday when a voice came from within the wall.Mold3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Hey!" the voice said. "Look, I give, all right? I'm coming out!" Greg watched as a stream of black-and-white goo poured out of a crack near where he'd been scrubbing. It smelled of mildew, and, when enough of it came out, formed itself into the shape of a man.
"What are you?" Greg asked, looking up at its globby face.
"I'm the mold that lived behind your toilet," it said, "and I'm here to be your friend."
"Because I didn't develop self-awareness without reason, and you're a loser who cleans his bathroom on a Friday. Get your keys; we're going to the park."
Greg drove. They went to the basketball courts and the mold won in one-on-one against Greg. Twice.
"You need to exercise more," it said. "
a flowering of daysAll these daysa flowering of days4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like curling pages
cars exhausting in a tunnel
crowding ripples against
a ragged shore.
Will they flower some
of eyes that ungulate cyan
in the firefly darkness
another bag of quicklime in the slack.
DisengagedDisengaged4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Make the world vanish,
feel the oceans of space.
They will not drown you.
Hello. I'm God.I could kill you if I wanted to.Hello. I'm God.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Did you know that?
I could do it as easily as squashing
a bug, too.
I could have you stabbed in some
rubbish-strewn alley, the smell of
urine your final dying stench.
I could have you hit by a train,
have it charge at you head on like a
its brash wail filling your head.
I could drown you, burn you,
smother you, poison you,
devour you, tear you apart and
pull you inside out.
I could skin you alive and have
your head hanging above my mantle piece
as a trophy.
I can make you fall in love.
I can bring someone into your life,
someone with eyes like two orbs of an
Someone with a kiss that fills your veins with
Someone with a touch that makes your skin
Someone with hair of satin, skin of silk
Someone with a smile that your heart
beats for, depends on.
I can make you believe in perfection.
I can make you believe in angels.
Honestly, I can.
Just a flick of my wrist and the click
of my fingers, and i
LoveI love you,Love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I really do,
I just don't know
or maybe I forgot
how to show it to you.
MyopicMyopic5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
An ant ascended the first time from his hole
and saw nothing but gray,
the earth and its mysteries obscured behind a fog.
"Surely my tunnels are all the world," said he,
and returned underground,
and thought no more of it.
And this is man a hundred fold!
This is man, and this is me.
I speak of The Big Picture as what I see
in a mirror or a microscope;
I know only myself and the merest fraction
of knowledge there is to be known.
The grand tapestry of plans within plans
was not revealed to me,
I see one circumstance and declare "life is misery,"
determined to miss the splendor of a thousand miles of forest
for the decay of a single tree.
What nearsighted foolishness, to say
"The world is this," or "the world is that"
as though the world were anything but a world,
a sphere of light and shade fully owned by neither.
Let "there are no words" be words enough,
and let man's fickle tongue give no more definitions.
A philosopher descended the depths of despair,
and knew an entire universe to be
Poem ThingI seem to have forgottenPoem Thing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why I wake up every day;
I make my way through life
But there's not a thing to say
To make it any easier,
Or make it any better.
It all just seems so hopeless
On a day that never ends.
Until the time I found my peace
In a place I least expected;
I found it in the eyes of Love;
A place I naught suspected.
So now I wake up every day,
And now I know that right away:
My Love's eyes are here upon me,
This peace is always on me.
I want to believewhy do I want to liveI want to believe4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
in this dark world
where people only kill
for some really stupid reason
do I want to keep on living
in this world
that has no future
i still believe in my heart
that one day
all of this
and the whole world
could be like one
is what I believe in
and hope for
and that word has a name
Clockwork of lifeSo let's stop for a momentClockwork of life4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stop the clock of time
This everlasting machine
From working for a second
Stop lifes sand
From floating away
Through the chokepoint
Of a glutted hour glas
From running around
Only thinking about
The problems of tomorrow
Let's stop and for a single moment
Let us just be
And feel the life
Flowing through our veines
Red drops of spinning emotions
Feel the gras
Tickling our feet
As we dance with ease
Feel the wind
Caressing our natural walls
Of snow-white skin
Feel our bodies
Moving, touchin, feeling
And remember what it means to live
broken vortexWithin the cloak of nightbroken vortex3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I lay awake
ponder the wicked twists of fate
within this shell, the ghost of me
appearance of iron hosts a deceitful fragility
seeming solid and smooth like glass
revelation luminates, naught but hollow
the mourning ash
below a still surface churns
vortex of darkened cold, blinding light burns
eternal war, no end in sight
strife creates chaos, strength becomes might
still sinking into forever night
falling into demonic clutch
no one to offer a savior's crutch
heart and love, slow to enter death
even as pain fills the very last breath
as the dark water closes above
the rising tide of agony, the curtain's final fall
such is the way of fate, soul and all
crippled and broken,trapped in a deepened grave
no way out as the darkness caves
all alone only the shattered pieces of a soul to save
the tempest of anguish, fear and hate
buried under still water
lying always in wait
no one cares or dares to see
the truth inside the heart of me
as the cherished becomes mist
Shamanthe blinding light makes me cry,Shaman6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hurting me even as it heals
where it comes from, the
earth shaman pulls it from the sky
from the mist that keeps him
from entering heaven, where
it rains silver-blue and gold,
his hands pull from me
black spots of disease,
white-hot threads pass through
turning bile into
pure energy, going inwards
the blessing of his craft
his selflessness - the gift
cannot partake of
his kind eyes, from which
his own tears now fall
Ambergris Vessel, a poemCirculating cry of the Sun,Ambergris Vessel, a poem11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
flaming braided rhythm of Love.
A boundless becoming across this blue firmament.
Birthing stone born of ocean spray,
seeded in blackened Earth.
Wilted lotus deep within putrefaction
and the utterance is recepted in the dissolving silence.
An organic wish for beyond,
for pain is pleasure.
Heart-rending reverberation bleeding into the new pattern.
Arterial tears shed into vessel of ambergris,
cup of selfless sacrifice,
glandular receptacle for the dew of ecstasy.
Rectified and found,
the crimson tide washes ashore the emerald eye.
Throughout the crystalline-veined sands
the liquids of life inter-mingle in the chymical dance.
Celestial fire awakens for burning embrace,
the blooming of astral light.
Desireful bath in the nectar
from the blue fruit of noon.
Awakened and flawless at dawn,
the golden elixir coagulates,
helix of Hir secret-ion.
Seven-fold spiral rain into the new flesh.
For this is my body,
this is my blood.
The Man from AboveThe Man from Above4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Fireflies fell from the skies,
And burned brightly in his eyes.
The light of the stars caressed his hair,
And from the breath of his lips there came sweet air.
All that he thought came alive and true,
And so he turned the sky a purest blue.
From his heart he wept a river so still,
That in turn our hearts it did fill.
And knowing his work was almost done,
He called to the fireflies and born was the sun.
With all of his life now given to us,
The stars of his smile then faded to dust.
With a final wave of his hand, swept the sands of time,
And left this world for the truly divine.
The man from above,
Who taught the world what it is to love.
Only YouA slight quickeningOnly You4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pulse rate soars
can't you feel it
like dust to wind
every heart beat
lost in time
lost in you
can't you feel it too?
I want no other
only you will do
like drums raging
end of the world
and only you will do
I want no other
but to be standing
side by side
when the end comes