Pigeon PigeonAs the planks of wood fall from my feet I am drifting-
This is no ordinary tower
It is mine as long as I am here
The asbestos and lead,
it is in the air,
this air is collecting like pigeons
collecting in my lungs
like dust on a windowsill
why are you so sad?
I see the red in your eye like the father
of children playing
oh pigeon pigeon
didn't you see them,
the air is thin so that I can not breathe
how I hate you
mankind has moved my lungs into position
mankind has stopped my breathing
I suppose I don't have the skill to understand you, pigeon,
or this place
you are so very ugly, pigeon,
as mankind has written it
Black RibbonImagine a dreamBlack Ribbon3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And in this dream you are walking towards a tree
a beautiful tree full with hues of red and gold
it is intoxicating.
but no this tree in not favored by the stars nor the sun
though in this dream, you are in a forest with many trees, all the same
but not the same cause in this dream you are right in front of this tree
for no apparent reason
Why, is it special?
This tree is the one you chose.
Maybe it is your path
maybe it is your fate
or maybe just floating down a river with out the strength to swim to the shore
but this tree is special, for it is your dream
you see a hole…. in the trunk of this tree
A little below eye level, not to big, just enough to get your hand though
One would expect to pull a rabbit out of a hat
but seeing as this is a tree and no ordinary tree at that.
You pull the end of a ribbon…, out from this hole in a tree
but ordinary it seems.
for a ribbon…
So you pull
And you pull
Rooibos TeaBreathe deep the chai hazeRooibos Tea2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a muse of eggshells and grandma's lace tablecloths,
cradles the tea kettle to her chest
and abandons Latin words and names
flotsam and jetsam dribbling
irrelevant among the little red tea leaves;
the driftwood of genus and species bumping
against the shores of the South African scrublands.
She hovers orange and indigo,
a quavering flame of dreams
and drained tea dregs
divination with a soft-spiced voice
at the bottom of the mug,
never quite gone
a flock of Van Gogh crows
frozen in their hayfields.
Six Word Story Contest - 7 3Mo.Subs to be won!A type of Flash Fiction, six word stories are (very) short stories with an exact word count: six words. SixWordStories is the place where, alongside quality, quantity really does matter. Though these stories are so brief in length, they can be as profound, if not more, than the prose and poetry you see and read every day, partly because six word stories can tell us so much and yet contain so little.Six Word Story Contest - 7 3Mo.Subs to be won!2 years ago in Deviant Events More Like This
As a Group, we encourage writers to explore their boundaries with prompts, collaborations and more, but we accept anyone and everyone too! Whether you are a digital artist, photographer, or something else entirely, if you can string six words together into a story, this is the place to be!
So getting to the point of this article, we are kickstarting this year with a six word story contest! We have some awesome prizes and hopefully enough freedom for you to enjoy yourselves too! Please support the contest and the article so that more can join in on the fun!
One DayOne day you'll realize how important you areOne Day3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one day you'll realize how your innocence
And your wit
makes you unique
To bad one day
Was three years past
And one day you'll look in to my eyes
And see nothing
No, nothing special at all
And one day you wont feel alone anymore
And one day you'll be just another girl
And one day I'll accept it
I know it makes you happy
You Slept Through The Alarm Again - Little AubadeIf, perhaps, you had turned at that momentYou Slept Through The Alarm Again - Little Aubade2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and your hair had caught in your fingers,
the straw being fed into the spindle, struck
by the high, thin light of first waking, the whorl
of a single line descendent from the sun, born
watery from the gap below one velveteen curtain,
all of it staining over gold and dusty and slow,
the edge of your mouth might have met the edge
of my mouth, narrow gaps both without attention
openingif, perhaps you had turned again,
your hand could have met the curve of my neck,
your canvas rough fingers tying knots of my hair
and I would have sighed, thick spreading in your ear
like the light itself learning to speak in tongues
you might understandif perhaps you had
opened your eyes, squinting, eyelashes caged
together, it all would have been edgeless and bright.
The Silo Complex"You won't believe what I just saw in the field."The Silo Complex3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I sighed at Eloise in the doorway. "Another dead raccoon? How big was it this time? You know it's just maggots, right?"
"No, that wasn't it. I saw a man."
"Was it John?"
"It was a man, but it wasn't really a man. Almost a man."
"Almost a man?" She had recently taken to wandering in the fields under gray skies, thinking that she'd find her answers among the abandoned farm equipment and rows of dried corn husks. She never did. Just raccoons. I never heard anything about men who were almost men. "How can someone be almost a man?"
"Never mind. You don't believe me."
"Just tell me what he looked like."
"He looked like smoke."
I didn't realize what she meant until the next day when a woman who was almost a woman appeared outside the back door, peering through the window. She was in the form of a woma
Spilled Milk 2.0The milk in the backseatSpilled Milk 2.03 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is getting warm, condensation
pearling on the plastic jug
and dripping onto the bread.
His glass doll eyes do not see
this now, slumped against the
steering wheel, windshield
scattered across his lap like
candy from a pinata. His face
is stretched in a caricature of
surprise, saying, But I was
only going for milk.
She is impatient, pacing their
living room in her high heels,
smoothing her dress with her
trembling hands, casting acidic
looks at the green numbers on
the stove that insist on marching
onwards though he should have
been back fifteen minutes ago.
He only went for milk, down the
street, and they are going to be
late for their own party, and she
is furious, but that fury is tinged
with an icy vein of panic that is
threatening to choke her, and
she checks the clock again, the
scream of sirens in the distance
pressing against unhearing ears
as the floor mats soak up the last
warm and living parts of him,
and the milk warms in the backseat.
tribute to the moth on floor 7the beauty that we fail to seetribute to the moth on floor 72 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in moths survived by poetry-
a quiet death, a paper wing,
beside October's bitter sting.
a window cold above a place
where everyone has lost their face;
a thousand zombies shuffle by
as snow begins to paint the sky.
an epitaph can hardly sing
the beauty of a living thing,
or horror of its slow demise-
the empty blackness of its eyes.
a friend where friends are scarcely found,
so many floors above the ground-
I carried secrets on my breath,
and friend, you took them to the death.
your weakness lasted far too long-
trade paper wings for something strong.
And toes and heartsIf each star had shoulders,And toes and hearts2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They would sag under the weight
Of one thousand wishes,
Their hands would be ever-reaching,
With fingers that stretched into nothing
But dark and dark and dark.
If stars had mouths,
They would open them to sing
And only scream one thousand forgotten promises.
Inner-scopea single poemInner-scope2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I'll never stop revising -
THE UNDERWEAR MAN"Hello?"THE UNDERWEAR MAN4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Hi, my name is Buddy and I'm a representative of Smith & Winston Enterprises. We're a company that conducts surveys geared towards females and feminine products. Do you have the time right now to participate in a short survey, miss?"
The voice at the other end was steady and professional. I, too, work for a company that makes phone solicitations, so I immediately sympathized with the guy, figuring he had goals to meet and people to please. They probably wouldn't let him go home until he reached a certain participation percentage or something of the sort.
"Sure, Buddy, question away."
"Great! Thanks. How old are you?"
"Okay, and what brand of underwear do you wear?"
Poor guy. It takes a brave male soul to call up women and ask them about their underwear. I figured this job must have been his last resort. Perhaps he was laid off at his other job and had children to feed.
"Exactly what kind of underwear is it? Tho
UNDERSTANDAND UNLIKE YOU I UNDERSTAND WHAT MY DEATH WILL MEAN,UNDERSTAND3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you say I have nothing to say for the lack of age,
but I haven seen what such life will bring,
And those whom grip death shall not fear,
but unlike you I have seen this dream,
and it is a bigger fear to have left nothing behind,
then to have lost something with in such a life.
CruxI’m only sure of two things:Crux1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I still carry pieces of your cross on my back and
lilies were your favorite flower
Those last three months-
A silent drive home from the mall
purse full of stolen makeup
Dinners with my family where no one
bothered to make the conversion
Endless hours spent looking at paint samples
and I was smart to not buy the brushes
The line at the liquor store blended
with the lines on the road
At the same time with you
Then it was summer and you talked me into a country drive. We stopped on the side of the road to watch a cow giving birth in the center of a pasture. But, the calf never rose to its wobbly legs or felt the heat of the Indian summer….it never tasted dandelions.
The mother stood by the calf’s body
long past nightfall
and I stood by yours
long after that
Was this what we meant when we said forever?
Vie NoirYou were the promise of regret,Vie Noir1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
destiny wrapped in an egg shell,
something that temperance would not allow.
And you looked at me with cloudy eyes,
sipping your excuses while choking on tomorrow.
(We were the privileged few that God chose to endure the hopeless)
And you cursed my name while confessing every lie.
My borders grew as you clawed for the limits of absolution.
(We were the privileged few whose skin was hard to pierce)
And you loaded that gun with false bravado and ill intent.
The world was watching as you aimed it at the future.
(We were the privileged few who never forget to empty the chamber)
And you stared into the nothing, hoping to find me there
Honestly.So let's be honest:Honestly.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There are moments when your eyes catch mine and your familiar scent fills my mind and for one second, I feel completely drunk on you again.
For one second, everything is entirely you and there's nothing for me but memories and soft skin and the thought of being tangled under the sun again with you.
[I shouldn't be saying this.]
Then you open your mouth and I realize, I don't know you anymore.
I've gotten used to feeling guilty for mistakes that you've made, for letting you lie to me, for letting you fall apart,
But can we please just try to get this history off of my mind? Sometimes it seems like you're only a crumbling reminder of what I gave up on.
[It's not the same, it will never be the same.]
I've begun psycho-analyzing the actions I takes, and it seems that after all this time, everything I do is for you.
You're a hypocrite
And a liar
And I love you.
[I can't have you. I don't need you. God, I want you.]
Then you open your mouth and I real
For These Things I AmFor all the things I couldn't do,For These Things I Am4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
For all my plans that fell through,
For the lies I told in lieu of truth,
I am sorrowful.
For all your tomorrows that wouldn't come,
For all my wrongs in their awful sum,
For the words I used that made you glum,
I am regretful.
For all the smiles you put on my face,
For all your beauty and all your grace,
For the warmth you gave in each embrace,
I am joyful.
I thoughtI thought you were the person to admireI thought5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thought you would cheer me up when I was down
I thought you were there to make me feel fuzzy inside
I thought you were truthful to me
I never wanted things to change
I never wanted to feel depressed everyday
I never wanted to feel neglected
I never wanted lies in my life
I guess you will depart my life
I guess you would change emotions
I guess you weren't the right person
I guess you can be a trickster
But I don't think, want, or guess, anymore
I know you aren't the right person
to share my feelings
When I thought I knew so much about you
up into my throatdo not blame me when I cry as you chase other tails thanup into my throat2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
mine and please stop talking as if nothing's wrong because
everything is as long as there is space between our mouths.
I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I might just miss your
dirty looks more then I miss our entangled fingers or late-night
cuddle sessions, but I find myself quivering in bed with your
memory on my fingertips and my fingers in between my thighs.
we're made out of sound. built up from wanton moans and
slippery words and twisted whispers and desperate coughs and
surprised gasps and suppressed sobs and the sloppy smacks of
colliding lips and a terrible, terrible silence that knots
my veins and floods my mouth like vomit.
I would spit you out if I could. I would thrash my fingers into my
throat and then pick the bits of you from between my teeth. but
you have spread through my veins like a poison, you are tangled
all around my bones and knotted into my larynx. I couldn't get
you out even if I tore apart my skin
We don't know how to dream.i. There is glass in my bones, I say and she nods. She is listening but not really. She is mixing up words and thoughts and trying to decide what to say next to keep me from falling deeper. She is afraid, I can tell. There are different kinds of fear, you know, different flavors. Mine is a slow fear, a soft and creeping fear that strokes the back of your mind and makes you cry in libraries, on car rides, in the gloaming time after sex. It's a fear that makes you say things you don't mean to the people you love because you need someone to know that there's a stranger in your head and you don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. Her eyes are shifting, backforthbackforth, still composing. Her fear is a sudden fear, a sharp fear, a tidal wave of not knowing what to do, what to say. Her fear is a secret she keeps in her fists when I'm feeling most alone and she thinks she needs to be strong. I'm exploding, I say and she nods. I'm not looking for an answer.We don't know how to dream.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
The TrapIt took over her mindThe Trap3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It took over her soul.
Now she struggles to find
A balance of control.
Once so full of beauty
She was once so full of cheer.
But Ana hurts so cruelly
And Mia fills her full of fear.
She sadly believes
She won't win
unless she's thin.
She can't succeed
until she's lean.
She'll have it all
if she is small.
Five more pounds and then
She'll feel happiness again.
It took over her heart
It took over her eyes.
Now it's become too hard
To not believe the lies.
Once so full of wonder
She was once so full of grace.
But Ana has pulled her under
And Mia stole her faith.
She sadly believes
She'll never win
if she's not thin.
She won't succeed
unless she's lean.
She'll have it all
only if she's small.
Ten more pounds and then
She'll feel happiness again.