The Elemental AdventuresThe Elemental Adventures3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In the land of Alyon, there are two main groups of humankind- Mortals, who have no special or unique characteristics, and the Elementals, who can control one of eight elements per individual- Water, Earth, Fire, Light, Air, Shadows, Time, and Space. Most Elementals used to be neglected, and selected only for laboring purposes. however, Eight individuals came together and decided to open up a school to teach young Elementals how to use their powers properly. however, an evil Presence was found to be watching over the entire operation and wanted to take control over the school, and thus take over all of Alyon. the Headmasters were turned against each other and created complete chaos among the students and staff. in a desperate move, several of the staff created a near-impenetrable prison and imprisoned the Presence inside. the Presence could no longer control the Headmasters, and the school was saved from self-destruction.
most would agree that that problem had be
Der weisse RitterD e r w e i ss e R i t t e rDer weisse Ritter4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mit einem lauten Knall schließt sich die schwere Stahltür. Der Klang dröhnt in ihren Ohren.
Langsam, ganz langsam begreift sie das sie gerade noch einmal mit dem Leben davongekommen ist. Und sie nun in Sicherheit ist, hier in diesem betonierten Raum unter der Erde.
An dessen Ende steht ein metallener Tisch auf dem sie im künstlichen Neonlicht mehrere große Wasserflaschen erkennen kann. Er geht voraus. „Kommen Sie!“, sagt Falk und greift nach einer der Wasserflaschen während er das Gewehr von der Schulter nimmt und auf den Tisch legt. „Sie müssen sicherlich durstig sein!“, sagt er und lächelt. Das Gefühl, wie ihr das kalte Wasser die trockene Kehle hinab rinnt, ist eine wahre Wohltat. Mit jedem Schluck beginnt Carla`s Herz langsamer zu schlagen.
Sie zwingt sich die furchtbaren Momente auszublenden. „Wenn er nicht gewesen wäre!“, denkt sie und blickt ihn an. „Dann wäre ich
WilleIch bin starkWille5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
ich bin schwach
ich bin das was du mit mir machst.
Dein Leben kann ich bereichern
deinen Horizont erweitern.
Dein Leid kann ich beenden
und alles zum Guten wenden.
Ich bin Gut
ich bin Bös
ich bin das was du aus mir machst.
Deine Feinde kann ich ertränken
dir Macht und Reichtum schenken.
Dich vergiften jeden Tag
bis du nicht mehr atmen magst.
Ich bin hungrig
ich bin satt
ich bin was du mit mir machst.
Du kannst mich nicht belügen
Auf ewig mein Name bleibt bestehen.
Wille so werde ich genannt
viele sind von mir schon weg gerannt.
Doch was sie können nicht sehen
das sie nur mit mir können bestehen.
Der springende PunktUnter dem Baum der Erkenntnis sehe ich einenDer springende Punkt1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Punkt klein und rund
der laut seine Meinung tut kund.
Ich begreife der springende Punkt
Er sagt er ist auf der Suche nach einer Bleibe,
einem Ort an dem er bleiben kann.
Er musste schnell weg aus Kopfstadt.
Nur so lange bis sich sein Nachbar beruhigt hat.
Ich sage tut mir leid doch das Gewissen wohnt dort.
Ist mal hier und mal dort doch nie lange geht fort.
Gewissen ja den kenne er nur zu gut.
Er sagt der wäre der Grund für seinen Auszug.
Und so erzähle ich ihm schon
von der komplexen Wohnsituation:
Von Eitelkeit dem Dürren
der nur haust auf den Fluren.
Von Faulheit dem Dicken,
der im Stock wohnt dem Dritten.
Von Zorn dem buckligen Querulant
der in den Keller wurd verbannt.
Von Eifersucht, der am Fenster steht
und stets durch die Gardinen späht.
Ihm von allen zu erzählen
ihn gar sehr würd quälen.
Doch das mache nichts tut er mir kund
denn schließlich finde Unvernunft
auf die eine
PapierkriegPapierkriegPapierkrieg2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Jeden Tag sterben Menschen im Krieg. Krieg des Öl`s wegen, der Macht, des Geldes.
Ich fechte auch jeden Tag meinen Krieg aus. In diesem Krieg gibt es aber keine Toten, keine Verletzten, nichts zu gewinnen.
Trotzdem verlangt dieser mentale Kampf mir alles ab, spielt eine enorme Rolle in meinem Leben. Der Kampf gegen den bekannten Gegner. Gegen Herr Weiß.
Da seh ich ihn. Wie er faul auf dem Tisch liegt und mich anstarrt. Ich starre ebenfalls. Die erste Phase. Wir wissen beide das es wieder einmal so weit ist. Beide haben wir nichts zu verlieren, nichts ausser unserem Stolz.
Er beginnt zu lachen. Die zweite Phase. Ich bleibe ernst.
„Ja lach du nur!“; denke ich mir und setze mich unbeeindruckt an den Schreibtisch, während ich in Gedanken die Bilanz durchgehe.
Ich habe viele Schlachten gewonnen, doch keine verloren. „Das ist doch gut.“, werdet Ihr jetzt vielleicht denken, doch Nein dem ist nicht so. So lange man nicht gewonnen hat hat man
Deadly NightshadeDeadly Nightshade3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A deadly Shade of violet
Curled tight 'round the gate,
Its sunset-colored berries
A bold dare to tempt fate.
One petal is sickness
Another is grief,
Three petals is madness
Four petals, relief.
Lovely vines of Nightshade
Strangling away the flowers,
Such a precious companion
To count away the hours.
A single berry, sin,
Another for lost virtue,
More to take the pain away
So that the last one won't hurt you.
Nightshade - grown in shade or sun,
Wove' through flowers, brush 'n picket gate,
An' for each year, the thought's the same:
"For what taste would you tempt fate?"
Understanding "You want to know why I did it."Understanding2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Then why don't you tell me?"
"Because you wouldn't understand."
"You don't know that."
"It isn't your job to understand."
"Why don't you let me try?"
"Because you don't really want to.
You don't want to understand what it felt like when he broke me. When I realized there was no way out.
You don't want to understand what he stole from me; what he was sure I owed him. Him! A perfect stranger, was the one I was indebted to.
You don't want to understand that kind of pain, or that kind of terror.
You don't want to understand the thoughts that go through your mind as he tightens his grip on your neck and bears down on you. How dirty you feel, having someone that vile inside of you.
You don't want to understand how helpless you feel. How, finely, the me
Thank You Dear Boy Who Is Afraid,Thank You2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I am sorry to see you go. However, I am not going to write sad poetry for you. I'm not going to grovel and beg you to come back. My ink is too precious to waste on ugly things. I write about beauty, love, and things I see truth in.
I love who I am because I'm happy. You couldn't love me that way but it's alright. I understand. My songs keep me singing so I don't care if they never make it to the top. I may be too silly for your reality but reality seems just as silly to me.
I am not angry at you so you won't get break up hate poetry either. We all have our place in this world and yours just wasn't with me. I love you because you don't live life with someone without developing that puzzling complex. You taught me some beautiful things. For that I am grateful. I have to move on now, so I guess this is simply a thank you letter.
Angel "You can't be serious," she sighed, holding up the contents of the drawer she was cleaning out.Angel2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"What?" He looked up, feigning innocence.
"Why one earth would you keep these?" The question was exasperated but he still caught a hint of insecurity. Her eyes looked away, afraid to know the answer.
"They're beautiful." His quite response was simple, and yet so sincere that she couldn't help but believe him. Or at least believe that he thought that. The question seemed silly, as if the answer was implied knowledge to him. Why couldn't she believe it?
"I don't know how you can say that," she snorted. "I look terrible in all of these." He got up and made his was though the cluttered mess on the floor to settle by her quietly. She kept her eyes averted from his penetrating gaze, fuddling with the strings on the hemline of her tattered skirt
Saving Her Soul : Chapter 1Saving Her Soul : Chapter 12 years ago in Drama More Like This
Have you ever loved someone so much
that you'd risk your life to bring him back?
Her name is Merlena, she was my little sister,
when we were eight...I lost her, she was murdered.
It was just one of those perfect summer days, mum made
breakfast, strawberry bacon and banana wrappers, our...favourite. Dad, promised to take us to the park, I've
been asking him for weeks now ,and he finally said yes.
Nobody could have imagined what would happen, it was a quiet and peaceful time back then , but...it did. I wanted to train on those new machines, she wanted to play by the swings.
Since the time I was very little I had that spark for battle. I wanted to fight for someone ,to be their heroine, but I'd never wish to gain that opportunity in a situation where my family was involved.
My dad had gone to get us something to drink, I was left to keep an eye on her, unfortunately...I failed.
15 Minutes later...
Leil is still on the machines training, punching and kicking, Merlena is trying to do catch
The Queen of Hearts The Queen of Hearts sits at the edge of the bar. Her blood red fingernails trace the rim of her half empty glass as her hungry eyes survey the room. She is casual, practiced in the way her fingers twirl her hair. Seductive and yet listless with each flick of her wrist, she draws you in. Her gaze is just vacant enough to be interesting without being interested. Just a little more time and they will come, they always do.The Queen of Hearts2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her slinky black dress does little to hide her exquisite frame, she plays her cards, and plays them well. Easy, fluid in movement, she shifts her weight so that the clingy material rides up her leg, exposing that tempting slant of pale thigh.
'Come stranger', she silently beckons, 'come share tonight with me'. How could he resist? He cannot. He does come, refilling her glass with a casual nod toward the bar tender, and begins to talk. She rolls her eyes and plays along, smiling poli
The Photographer The photographer squatted in front of his inspiring subject. It had caught his eye in passing and now he must strive to capture its essence as seen to him on first impression.The Photographer2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He angles the lens of his camera upward, caressing the zoom wheel as lovingly as a poet might caress paper with pen, or a mother might caress her new born child.
Enveloped in his art, the world around him becomes one primary focus. The hustle and noise on the crowded sidewalk fades and is absorbed in this one moment.
In out, in out, the subject moves, going in and out of focus, until it's perfect.
The photographer snaps the first picture, already planning which he will put in black and white, and how many other angles he desires to capture. His imagination waltz's with vivid ideas and glorious possibilities in the endless dance of an artist.
I am but a passerby; my impression as clueless
Ocean SceneBlueOcean Scene4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The ocean, ninety kilometers deep at the shallowest
And an average depth of nine hundred.
No hint is visible of the alien cities far below.
Above you is the mid-morning sky, with an orange main-sequence sun.
A few wispy cirrus clouds overhead
And five other moons visible that circle the ringed gas giant Taazeŕæ,
Which the world you're on orbits and that even in waning crescent phase
Fills more sky than the sun.
And a six-winged prosylaar wheels overhead looking for fish.
And a feather lands on the water.
A pontoon city, made of a light but tough alloy
On the distant horizon
A magnificent cathedral rises to the heavens.
A gray-winged hawk-pigeon soars in the air
The air of Taazeŕæ 10, the Veldìn homeworld.
The Purple MartinYou see I'm a swallow, so beautiful, 'strueThe Purple Martin4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Pure, pretty purple is my plumage
My brood's raised in a box, beautifully done
My mate minds them now,while mealworms I hunt
I will wing back with them, then my wife will hunt
My neighbors now, nattering always
And likewise chatter I, aye cheerfully
Behold! Here's the birder, bringing more mealworms
He cannot stand the skeeters, scrumptious insects
Hey! I'm home! Hello family.
This I BelieveThis I believe is the world falling apart,This I Believe4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
thrashing and flailing as if grabbed by the heart.
Covered in ashes or frozen to the spot,
everybody's dying there's no escaping the plot.
This I believe is the reason we die
the population is growing, polluting the sky.
Our endless hunger depleting the trees,
crushing the food chain and causing lungs and stomachs to bleed.
On top of it all
our murderous ways
cause us to kill each other
leaving us mourning for the rest of our days.
This I believe
is the reason we send
others to save us
from our unstoppable end.
Wile E. Coyote's LamentA not-long time agoWile E. Coyote's Lament4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I chased a roadrunner
Hungrily mile after mile
And I knew if I caught the bird
A fine supper, oh my word
Would await me and the prospect made me smile
But he'd outstrip a falcon speeding
Some assistance I'd be needing
So I wrote to Acme
Asking if they'd send me
Their latest cuckoo-slaying stuff
(Eating shoes and cans is tough)
I hoped that it would be enough
For I'd been foiled again
Oh, I, I would make roadrunner pie
Were my luck good, you know I would
Have roadrunner tonight
I always hope that my triumph is nigh
Oh, but Murphy thinks I'm special tonight
Murphy thinks I'm special tonight
Did you know Acme's product line
Includes a set of bear traps nine?
I lay them out along the road
I Acme year-round suet spread
(The only type that won't go bad
In the Arizona desert, you know)
And the Roadrunner he tore along
Calling "Beep! Beep!" Oops! Traps were set wrong
I went them to reset
Did I then slip up? You bet.
I fell in turn
A Paid Off Desire - PoetryA Paid Off Desire - Poetry4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A Paid Off Desire
The sun burned my skin
As I walked with my sweat dropping from my chin
I cursed the long path under my shoes
Pulled my bag up and raised my feet again
Stepped on a new stone and continued my way home
An Italian flag captured my eyes
Along with delicious smell slipped to my nose
Handsome waiter poured red wine to a fancy glass
While the honorable guests tasted their spaghetti before my eyes
I shook my head and forced my leg to move on
My stomach grumbled when the red door was opened
As I could smell the pork was cooked
Served with herbal tea beside the red napkin
"Boy that looks really good!" I thought
But again I continued to move again and ground my teeth
At last my loyalty was paid
For my mother greeted me by the door
Took me to our dining room
For a bowl of chicken soup had been prepared for my lunch
With her love as one of its ingredients
My mother's cooking is the best of all!
The Rose RustlerThe Rose RustlerThe Rose Rustler7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
by Cheryl Moore
The sun is surely rising
On yet another day
Birds are chirping madly
As I head along my way.
I'm searching for that something
That's missing from my mind
I dream of finding roses
Lost to all mankind.
The roses in their glory
A smell of strong perfume
The lure of mystic roses
Bringing me to you.
The rose blooms open slowly
As the sun shines on them so
I think I'll keep on looking
In this place that heaven knows.
Tombstones arched by roses
From a long gone time since passed
Thorns and brambles masking
That rose I've found at last.
The search is never over
That rose is never found
I'll rustle here tomorrow
Again on hallowed ground.
Remember to smileRemember to smile, don't give it away,Remember to smile10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If anyone asks, you're always ok.
You're just a bit tired; your leg hurts a bit,
Say anything but, "my world's turned to shit".
Laugh at their jokes, smile with them too,
But don't ever tell them what you want to do.
No talk of dying, or razors, or pills,
Or letting them know you're really quite ill.
'Cos everything's fine and everything's great,
They won't cotton on until it's too late.
Write them a note, don't hide it away,
And make sure they find it the following day.
He was always so cheerful, a very good friend,
We never knew he was seeking an end.
All of this warring, all of this strife,
An end to this misery, an end to this life.
All That I've GotAll That I've Got1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have died a thousand times,
Holding in my lovesick rhyme,
Wish you would forever be mine.
I should have listened to you,
You were right all along,
Now I forge my regret,
Into a tuneless song.
When did life,
Become so wrong?
Life was better with you here.
I know it'd take some time to fully heal.
But I don't want to.
Because I want you.
I know what I said before,
But I've run it through my head,
A thousand times or more,
And being alone,
Kills me to the core.
How I ThinkWhen I thought of heaven, I always imagined that there was this library, and it was filled with peoples' life stories. It was like Alexandria. It was this huge center of knowledge, the kind of knowledge that you don't get out of schools and books and TV… it was the knowledge that was forbidden to the living. The answer to life lingered in all of these books, these schools, these roads filled with the souls of the dead families reuniting. The moment I saw this image in my head, I realized something. I realized something so spectacular that I don't think anyone has ever realized it at my age. I realized that you'll never know the answer to life until you've lived through it, and until you're dead, so why are you so afraid of death? Was it the pain? The idea that you would lose the living and start over in an unknown place? I think it was all of that combined into one enlarged fear of death in general.How I Think1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
~Excerpt from "The Lyrics Plus The Melody"... an original book, by me
what do u guys th
HereditaryNo more.Hereditary1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will be good.
I will be good.
I will be good.
I am not my father.
I will be good.