Catalyst "What are you looking at?"
"Why? There are much more amazing things to look at than me."
"Malarkey. You are the most amazing thing I've found yet."
"That's crap and you know it."
"I know no such thing. I know that you don't want to admit it, or maybe you don't even see it, but that's different."
"I don't see how its different...Not that I'm saying its true! Cause its not..."
"Haha see the way you just pursed your lips? That means you have no confidence in what you're saying."
"That's that reverse psychology shit isn't it?"
"No, its just funny as hell. For real though dear, you're amazing. You know that right?"
"No, if anyone is amazing here its you. I'm n
WaterRiver,Water3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cleanse me of my iniquities as I plunge into your cool embrace.
Whisper the secrets of your splendor to my humble heart.
Laugh with me and pour your merriment upon me, until all I know is joy.
Mold me with your ever changing mood, that I may look upon each swing of the tide as a blessing.
Fall on me with your bittersweet kisses.
Surround me with your wild, life bringing song.
Take me dancing with you in the puddles of change.
Allow me, just for one moment, to understand your joyful tears.
In all your glory, all your unfathomable greatness, you remain in simple form.
Whether in great waves or calm pools, you are the never wavering reformist.
In earth shaking revolution or in slow deliberate steps, change is your only constant.
Flow over me. Wash me. Make me whole.
The Candy Lady They called her the Candy Lady. She was young with short curly hair the color of hazel nuts and a small body that always seemed to be dancing. Her eyes had seen a lot in her short life, but they always held a smile, and her mouth was quick to laugh. They didn't know her name, or where she came from so they just created a story for her in their minds and allowed her into their community. See the people didn't like her at first. The didn't like that she wore cloths riddled with holes, old patches and dirt, or the face she slept outside. They didn't understand that she kept them as clean as she could and still kept a tiny hand mirror in her pocket. They didn't like the battered guitar she carried around because they didn't want their kids to think it was alright to be a wandering musician. They didn't hear the beautiful music she made with it, or the poetry that she sang. They didn't like that fact that they didn't know her story. But she made herThe Candy Lady3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
NeededOur wet feet hit the frozen pavement.Needed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The cold is mirrored in our bare toes.
Her grip tightens around me
'I need you'
I am always needed.
Tears and screams fill the night air.
But they aren't mine.
They never are.
'I need you'
I am always needed.
I don't know if I feel anymore.
I don't know what I feel.
All I see is ice.
As it surrounds my awareness.
I am needed.
Glances She walked in with the breeze of a free fall morning behind her. Her steps as perfect and precise as Da Vinci's brush strokes, her features as angelic as one of the cherubim. Her rose petal lips parted in a familiar smile as lovely words flowed from her tongue like the sweet taste of honey to my starving ears. Her movements across the crowded room were made of the grace a prima ballerina would die for. Her eyes reflected a life and a clarity that would have put the finest of diamonds to shame.Glances3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And yet they weren't for me. Her Da Vinci steps, her Ambriel features, her warm honey voice, her ballerina movements and her queenly eyes were not for me. There is only one move she ever makes for me.
For one second, one blessed second, her sapphire eyes glance over to meet mine as she makes her way toward the back. She smiles a smile that sheds rainbows over my pathetic heart and glances down and as pink cr
SimplicityI love our simple moments my dear.Simplicity3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
While I will never dispute that it is a fun and thrilling experience to get all dressed up and communicate to the world in words that pour out like lovely sonnets, our undying love for one another, I must confess that my soul truly craves simplicity.
Now let me be clear. Simplicity is not stupidity, nor by any means a tragic silence thirsty for heart stopping poetry. You, my poet, never leave me wanting. No, simplicity, in my humble opinion, is simply the beauty of a silence that understands. The glory of a glance that needs no explanation. The fiery passion stirred up at a touch that requires nothing but action. The deep love that resonates on the purest of all frequencies; out of reach of the butchery of human expression.
That is what I mean when I say I love our simple moments.
You see one of my favorite things is to lay naked in your arms, with the fresh smell of clean, white sheets surrounding us. The white turns our passion fevered skin into lov
Limitless "Sometimes I think you have no boundaries."Limitless3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Well that's acceptable, I don't believe in them."
"That does't scare you?"
"No. Why should it?"
"I don't know, most people like to have a point of reference. Something they can look to so that they can see what to far is."
"I like those too, I just use them to see how much farther I need to go."
"You really like pushing the edge don't you?"
"The edge was made to be pushed. How else are we going to know what's beyond it?"
"We could ask the birds."
"Wheres the point in that if you can be a bird? I wouldn't want to give that up."
"The birds wouldn't want to give up their sky."
"So its better
Baby Sitting The baby fell asleep in my arms today. It's not like she hasn't done it before but this time all I could do was sit there and stare at her. She was so beautiful with her perfect lips and tiny fingers clutching my shirt for subconscious comfort. There is nothing quite as perfect as a sleeping baby. Her breathing was soft and even, and her tiny eyelids fluttered as she dreamed of lovely things my selfish mind could never imagine.Baby Sitting3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
As I sat there looking at her, I began to think of the people who hate me when they think she's mine. I go shopping and get death glares from the customers. I go to eat and become the scandal of the lunch hour. It seems as though a small teen carrying a beautiful, perfect baby, is a scene sent straight from hell in this town.
In crowded shopping centers or on the road, you are judged by outward appearance. Sure I get people coming up to me, asking how old she is and trying
The Book You Let Me Borrow We had good times you and I. We were happy for a time together. I painted beautiful images inspired by our love, and you wrote poetry of our passion. You're fingers were painted black from your fierce scribbling, and I had paint in my hair. Be that as it may, when we lay in the stillness, our busy thoughts melted away; into us.The Book You Let Me Borrow3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We danced and sang in the sunlight. We held each other and whispered secret things in the darkness. We were at home in the tiny flat that inspired both of us. We fed off each other like fire and gasoline. I would watch you sleep while I painted, you would read your midnight ramblings to my thirsty heart as we lay naked on our bed. We were happy, for a while.
Then there came a time when your poetry stopped flowing. It was my fault my love I'm sorry. I was blocking your inspiration, suffocating your ideas. I stayed away to make you happy and you became suspicious. We yelled e
Truth and Deceit There was a woman named Truth. She was a horrible liar. Her words were pure and beautiful, like the lilting flowers of spring, they rang true. She danced in a dying world, filling it with her lovely light and chasing away the shadows. She was mocked, loved, hated, and adored for who she was, but she was real.Truth and Deceit3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She changed the people she met, allowed them to understand some kind of depth, free of the superficial awareness of human nature. She would twirl in the rain, eyes closed hands out stretched, because she loved its truth. She was afraid of the lying world that surrounded her. It seemed a place of incomprehensible sadness. She wondered if they knew that no one in it was real.
There was a man named Deceit. His words were twisted, horrible things concealed in the beauty of tragic poetry. He did not speak anything genuine. He warped, stole, and broke the truth beneath his cruel tongue because his
Scribbles Nothing about me is pure. My edges are blurred, muffled things that often blend into my surroundings a bit to much.Scribbles3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My seams are strained, stretched, and tend to unravel at the times I need to stay together the most.
My mind is scattered, wild and ridiculous. I am emotional, overzealous, and spontaneous.
My fingers are splattered with ink from the crazy scribbles that over take my reality. Some things just must be said.
I am moody and tend to swing out of control like a train with no tracks. I don't think you ever liked that. I don't think you ever liked me.
I am the moon, and your lasso was not enough to hold me. I am the sun and I burned the wax from your wings.
I didn't mean to do those things. I was just trying to be true to who I was. I'm sorry I didn't let you change that.
When Angels Smile I first saw her on the sidewalk. Well actually it was in a fruit stand, on a side walk, at the local farmers market. The sounds around her were loud and hurried but she had a peace about her that made the whole world stop and stare. She was looking at the peaches, placing them gently in her cloth Whole Earths bag, and chatting casually with the vendor. Her smile lit up the place like the Madonna lit up minds. I was standing two stands away, poised in awestruck wonder, and I heard her perfect laugh echo like the symphonies of Beethoven.When Angels Smile3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I couldn't revel in my dumb wonderment for long because just then, the unbelievable happened. She raised her Aphrodite eyes and sent me a smile that stopped my pathetic heart. I just stood there, grinning stupidly back, not knowing what to do. What does one do when an angel smiles?
Introductions passed, the pleasantries were over and done, and still we sat talking.
UsedIUsed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I gave you my smile because yours was
broken and I would do anything to see you happy.
I gave you my body because you had forgotten
the feeling of having someone lay with.
I gave you my tears because you didn't know
how to let yours f
l curving around your perfect lips.
Dance With The DevilThe Devil stole my soul awayDance With The Devil3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He took it for pennies of its worth
I thought I made a deal with him
Until I crashed and burned
He borrowed, robbed, and gambled
Till all of me was gone
He laughed at my misery
Left me blind to right and wrong
So I went looking for this Devil
Who claimed to own my soul
I went to ask him how he thought
My soul was his to own
I found him dancing with delight
Upon his black sinned stage
And there he danced with souls
He had wittingly engaged
"Devil," I said to him
"I'm here for what is mine."
"Here are only things I own,"
Came the snide reply
"But I don't remember selling
Or even saying yes."
"Awe but that is what is grand my dear
I didn't have to ask."
He took me through his evil rooms
Showing me on the way
All the souls given, bought and sold to him
Every minute, every day
And there before me were my sins
Each and every one
Least to greatest counted there
Till all of them were done
"You see?" He smirked and shook his head
"All of them are mine."
Us You know that couple no one believed in? The ones they said would never work? The ones who were scrambling in the dark trying to get past more hurt and darkness then anyone could imagine. The ones trying to find love with no hands and no eyes?Us3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That my dear, would be us.
You know that couple that didn't have a prayer. The ones who everyone knew were doomed but who fought the good fight anyway. The ones who believed in their love with a fierce passion because it was the only thing left for them to believe in? The ones who were valiant worriers on white horses because it was the only thing between them and despair?
That my dear, would be us.
You know that sweet couple? The perfect ones that everyone thought looked so cute together? The ones who's relationship was so unexpected, scandalous and surprisingly wonderful that everyone and their mo
GardenerI walk in the garden we built togetherGardener3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is a shadowed place
Darkness drapes its once lovely colors
I am surrounded by the smell of failure
I was sand, and you were my flower
I was not strong enough to hold you
You were not strong enough to contain me
I am surrounded by the smell of bitter freedom
I could not uphold your beauty
I denied you water, until you wilted
I am surrounded by the smell of tears
My passion burned up the moisture
Your tender glory rendered me helpless
Our garden withered.
I am surrounded by the smell of dying flowers.
Rain "I know you."Rain3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"No, I don't think you do."
"Yes I do, you're that girl who hates the rain."
"I don't hate the rain."
"I know that. You never did. However, you lied to yourself until you thought you did."
"How do you-"
"I saw it. You see I used to know you as the girl who loved the rain. You would stand in it, arms out stretched, twirling like a ballerina to no music. You used to embrace the clarity of the rain and love when it washed you clean. Then something changed. Your eyes became dull mirrors that reflected the horrors of the world and your smile became vacant. You did not wear your heart on your sleeve anymore, you hid it away and forgot how to share what you felt. You covered your face and ran when the sky opened up. You never danced in the rain. Something broke in you. You allowed your light to be swallowed up by ugly things. You stopped livi
Mike's Hard LemonadeDear Woman Who Wears The Ring,Mike's Hard Lemonade3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I'm sorry. I hate myself every day for the things I think and how I think them. You, no matter your faults or mistakes, in no way deserved this. I have paid my dues and yet you still torture me, rightly so.
See I too hate the jealously I feel when I think of your hands on him. I hate the boiling hate that raises in my stomach and coats my tongue with bitter envy. I hate the images that drive away my balance and indulge insanity as a permanent house guest.
I hate the longing that fills my soul when I think of his loving words given to you. I hate the inescapable wish to steal away those precious syllables and keep them for myself. I hate that he is obliged to love you and that it makes me sick to think of it.
I hate the twisting, agonizing pain I feel when I imagine the love that I felt and how it should never have existed. I hate the fact that I have no entitlement to my feelings. I h
Concrete The Concrete Boy was stable. He was as steady as the seasons change and as solid as the great trees that rumbled secrets in the dark. He was steady; sure. He was not spontaneous or surprising. His life was as it had always been; concrete.Concrete3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
To others he was the calm in the storm. He was the voice of reassurance in the dark. He was always there, never seen unless needed, but always there with arms opened. To the world his stability was a comfort. Inside his stability was a curse sent to rend his soul in two.
His spirit longed to break free of his self inflicted chains. His music, long stifled, longed to pour from his heart. His movement, long confined, longed to burst forth, into dance. But the Concrete Boy could not allow himself such freedom. His smile was broken. His music was gone. He remained trapped in his prison of expectation and smiled for those who
Running Away Mr. Ralf was a sad man. He was the literature professor at Lindenburge High School and he taught the same session on Romeo and Juliet every April. He smelled like rough whiskey and cheap cigarettes. His eyes were always bloodshot and people said he hadn't slept a wink since his wife left him nearly three years previous.Running Away3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The last day I saw him was a sunny day in April. He had started Romeo and Juliet, like always, in the beginning of the month and he had started drinking earlier than usual. You could see the haunted look consuming his eyes and almost imagine the agonizing memories of his wife dancing behind his veiled eyes; driving him insane. Why they had let him continue teaching was always a topic of debate between the students. It was clear he wasn't there anymore. He spent his days grieving for happier days. Some said they let him stay out of pity. Others said he simply refused to leave and no one had the heart to force him. Me? I say that relivi
The silence of a goddessthe Army Chief the lord OdinThe silence of a goddess3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
asked the goddess Frigg
if his army would win
against the enemy that threatened
the kingdom of Ásgard
help me my queen
we will win this battle
thanks to your magic
my power is immense
my valiant captain
but I do not help you
the magic is an unstable thing
if I help you now
more later in the year
you will make
the same request
My visions are a gift
but I never use it
because a corrupt kingdom
by a supernatural force
triggers the thirst for power
which causes the end of the kingdoms
my silence is a choice
to avoid the tragedy
Is this... Love?Do you feel it also?Is this... Love?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Does it show?
What does it mean?
I do not know...
One Last SongThey didn't see the signs.One Last Song2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They should've read between the lines.
Her lifestyle they scorned,
and for this reason, they mourned...
She suffered in silence.
Her sorrow, a cadence.
With her life they had gambled,
but with her world in shambles,
they had gone all-in and lost.
They should've known the cost...
In front of the grave, a boy thought of the girl he'd forsaken.
He wished this was a nightmare from which he'd awaken.
He was her high-school sweetheart,
but they had drifted apart.
Once he had left her alone,
the suicidal thoughts found a home...
On her guitar, sad notes she played,
whilst overhead, a noose had swayed.
From quivering lips, she sang one last time.
Shutting out a million thoughts, she managed a rhyme...
"Mother, father, I have a confession...
This song shall never be completed,
for I battled with depression,
and depression succeeded..."