My Dragon Ball Z - Power LevelsInitial SSJ = 50x BaseMy Dragon Ball Z - Power Levels3 years ago in Letters More Like This
MSSJ = 10x Base
ASSJ = 1.75x SSJ
USSJ = 2.5x ASSJ
LSSJ = 5x SSJ
SSJ2 = 5x MSSJ
SSJ3 = 10x SSJ2
Muten Roshi 139
Piccolo ( Makankosappo ) 1.330
Goku ( Kamehameha ) 924
Gohan Angry 710
Gohan Enraged 1.307
King Kaio 3.500
Gohan Masenko 2.800
Oozaru Gohan 10.000
Goku Powered Up 8.000
Goku Kaio-Ken 12.000
Goku 2x Kaio-Ken 16.000
Goku 3x Kaio-Ken 24.000
Goku 3x Kaio-Ken ( Kamehameha ) 27.000
Goku 4x Kaio-Ken 32.000
Vegeta ( Galick Gun ) 27.000
Oozaru Vegeta 100.000
Moster Zarbon 29.000
Gohan ( Hidden Power ) 14.000
Kuririn ( Hidden Power ) 13.000
Vegeta ( Zenkai from Zarbon ) 30.000
Gohan ( vs Reecome ) 20.000
InheritanceHe plucks a bitter C noteInheritance3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on a two hundred year old violin
that belonged to his mother,
and her grandmother.
The strings have never fallen flat before.
hushi'm done wishinghush3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on shooting stars, and
i want to be done with you:
i'll let dust settle
on my telescope,
let dust settle in
my throat, my lungs.
twist your fingers through
my vocal cords,
press your palm to
my lips and tell me, hush
don't wish on things
falling too fast
to hear you
maybe i'll wish
they are quiet houses
for muted ghosts, though
more alive than you
have ever been.
i'll let you
pull me under,
paint my eyes
with salt, blind me
so you can murmur, shh
even dead things
can be beautiful
One Leftxi.One Left3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I saved all my best words
(You deserve so much more.)
You were angry
before I could have a chance to explain.
Had you stayed, I could have told you;
I only meant that you were a puzzle.
(I just can't figure you out.)
You've been where I have,
but you were never in this deep.
Or at least you never told me about it.
don't pretend to understand.)
I write about space
to fill it with all the stars
you never look at.
(Stop watching your feet when you walk.)
If I'm holding too tightly,
it's only because I'm afraid.
It's a cliche;
but it's not me.
It really is you.
I'm only that vulnerable around you.
(I can only be that vulnerable
It took me a year to realize
I was lying when I said "not like that - "
I meant it exactly like that.
(You clever boy, you, figuring it out before I did.)
I want to know what you saw in me
that made you stop. I want to know
why you think I'm better than I
briefly remembering yourselfIt was the night after she was discharged. I took her out for a picnic in the middle of the night. To see the stars, the beautifully arranged stars, on the dark blue sky. The view was breathtaking and magical, because you could feel the peace that was floating around you. Away from the city, just the two of us, admiring natural art.briefly remembering yourself4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
She looked at the sky while my crumpled, flimsy fingers lit the candles around the blanket. We didn't have any use of them since the car lights shone upon us but, I thought it was romantic. We hadn't been romantic for a long time now. And she liked candles, they calmed her down and they reminded her of things.
I called her over, but she didn't hear me at first. I let her admire the stars a little more while I was admiring her. No matter the situation, one look at her would always bring a wide smile to my face. She was that charming, that beautiful, that powerful. I married her because of that last trait.
RoadmapsI have traced my fingers along,Roadmaps3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
following undulating roads
on faded parchment maps but
there is no X
to mark the spot
where you should be.
I have pushed my way past
half-lit tunnels of willow
leaves, tread over mossy rocks
and overturned each one,
searching for clues, arrows.
I have mapped the stars and
their trails that I might
never be lost - but I am wandering
all the same without
I have studied each roadsign;
followed each one
to its dead end
and U-turned back
to where I started.
I have traced my
over and over,
searching for the place
where I lost my way,
but there is no path back
Summer Dayswe used to walk that pathSummer Days3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trotting on torn-up dirt clods
and foxtail weeds
tripping and falling
our feet catching on tire tracks
and disturbing dandelion seeds
that burrowed in your hair like
fairy dust and glass beads
the scent of old hay
twisted high in the air
heat curling languidly
wrapping around our sun-stroked bodies
but you smelled like carrots and leather
like windblown summer air
sweet and homey entirely unique
the bridge of my nose
found a quiet place nestled along
that cervical curve of flesh
smooth as swan feathers
"Hello" I'd whisper
lips retracting against teeth
because I couldn't help but smile
The PianoThe voice you hear is not mine. It forms words, but it's not me. I can no more speak than I could fly; not if you begged me, if you tortured me.The Piano4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Once, a lifetime time ago, I could sing, and I lived for my song. Once she sang with me, and oh, how beautiful we were.
I sing no more.
I don't know where she went; far away, I believe. Perhaps she replaced me with another who sang more beautifully than I ever could. Though she tried, I give her that, she tried to take me with her; brought me all the way down to the sea shore, onto the very sands, but that's as far as I could go; the end of our life together.
Do you think me foolish, allowing myself to be so defined by her? Since she left I stayed on that beach, on a sand bank; high above the furthest waves. No-one came, no-one saw me. My life thereafter was a broken world of memory, and every thought reflected her musician's hands.
A diminished sixth, from A to F, resounded in the twilight of my first night before the sea, the mournful sound
FibonacciTheFibonacci3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not found by clapping
iambic pentameter beats,
but, sometimes, the syllable count does, in fact, matter.
Love Songs to the MoonHe's lonely, just another dreamer-boy with his head in the clouds.Love Songs to the Moon3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
For a boy who would never be loved, he had so much love in him.
She runs her tongue along her teeth. Are you afraid of dragons? she asks.
I imagine her with scales and wings, breathing fire. I tell her no, I'm a knight in shining armour.
Oh, she says with mock seriousness, you're fearless then.
I'm afraid, I say softly, I'm afraid of falling.
She leans in close. I feel her breath on my lips as she whispers, What about falling in love?
I forget how to breathe. The world starts to spin and I close my eyes.
Then she kisses me full on the mouth and my spine turns to feathers. I feel hollow, weak, like I just might blow away in the wind with this fairytale reaching across my tongue. I feel her lips against mine; my heart starts to beat too fast and I feel a tingling sensation across my chest. I think my lungs are going to catch fire.
He likes to run the broken sidewalk and sing love songs to the moon. He doesn't ne
lingering voicesthe air bledlingering voices3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
& in wilted
& the sun rose
pink and hazy
Some Lovers III died on a coldSome Lovers II3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
day, numbed fingers flexing,
grasping at the last traces of embers
withering in the grate.
I died holding your hand,
the hand I accidentally fractured
when I pushed you too
harshly near an edge
and you flailed to find
a more elegant way
to fall and then
I heard the scaphoid crack
but I didn't. I heard the cry
first and the pain came later
but you held my
I died with my arms
held over my head,
pinned down to the sheets by your solid
mass, fingers entwined
with yours until I
could no longer tell which bones
were my own. I baked
in the aftermath of the dying
heat and felt the blood
back into my fingers
before forgetting again
as you sighed into my neck.
I died on a cold
day, but I never felt
mintit is hardmint3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pale purple ;
& my scars.
driving through canyonsher back bendsdriving through canyons3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a split lip
ripe and red
and she smiles
onto the ground
"step on the gas,"
her face shining
in the morning sun
an american face
with rose cheeks
and apple eyes
and her american laugh
through cherished cherries
pits echoing on the floor
and i guess
i love her
like a split lip
ripe and red
SinkingPervading sadness emanating beneath quiet whispers.Sinking3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i am the face of poetryI am a discordance of proportions and colors, butchered red, but bent back with black and blue and white and black and peachy, fleshy skin. I'm broken and smashed in, disfiguredtwistedgnarled, like a knoll with tired eyes.i am the face of poetry4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm spilled ink on gossamer paper, spotted with a little too much whiskey, maybe some sweat, and a little bit of blood, if you're into that sort of thing. You stagger to your desk at three in the morning with newfound, inebriated brilliance to jot me down, strike every line, every drunken wrinkle, from my face the next morning, with, "No, that doesn't work;" "No, that doesn't fit." "Fuck, I was so wasted."
I'm a mass graveyard. I'm a pile of rusting bones you've got to dig through dirt to find me. You've got to bury yourself among corpses to reach sight of me. You have to sleep with the darkness, get intimate with deathenough to escape her once, maybe twice, maybe three or
Nothing Lasts Forevernothing is sacredNothing Lasts Forever4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
it is the lone existence
that lasts forever
you were the infideli told you there is a difference between wanting to kill yourselfyou were the infidel4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and wanting to die.
you said you didn't care, i could do either
i taught you how to climb a pine tree
and how to tie your shoelaces one-handed;
i sang you the alphabet backwards until you knew it by heart
(you knew me by heart).
sometimes i would weave daisies through your hair
and you would keep them there
until they wilted.
once i dared you to scale the neighbor's fence and
bring me a tomato from her garden.
i thought you knew i wasn't serious
but you vaulted up and back over with a tomato in your hand.
you told me you would do anything, anything for me
and i just laughed.
if there's one thing i want most, it's to see
daisies in your hair one more time:
that way maybe part of you
will look alive.
i know you've already wilted.
i think the day you jumped that fence,
your heart hit the ground running and
you said you would do anything for me:
i guess you meant anything
Right Where You Left Ityou spend your summer eveningsRight Where You Left It4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
chasing after happiness
running into sunsets
looking for shooting stars
and dragonfly wings
eyes too focused on the clouds
to realize happiness
is right beneath your feet
and you spend cold winter nights
searching for adventure
precariously perched on white window sills
waiting to jump into burning down buildings
and flee from the criminals of old comic book stories
too occupied with night time daydreams
to realize if you opened your eyes
there would be adventure everywhere you looked
and you spend all year long
looking for love
combing through romantic city street corner restaurants
batting long lashes and giving out spots of skin like free candy
too busy to realize love is right where you left it
sitting right behind you in old city block schools
bright hazel eyes hidden behind long blond locks
staring at the back of your head while you slip sultry smiles
into the pockets of back-water heart boys
ClementineMy fingernails mangleClementine3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the mottled wax
shell. Citrine sap
caresses each bulge
as I lick away
My teeth pop polyps
and shred cellophane skin.
If only everything
could be this sweet.
Colored SkiesThat night, I was in love with the sky. It shone most of the colors I knew, and every one I loved. Marigold streaks of Van Gogh and Modest Mouse winded through ibis sweaters and beige snowbanks. All of my memories were set above me, even your cerulean eyes.Colored Skies4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We were children freed from the lycée, leaving camp at sunset, when too late was too close. We crossed the road, brighter than its wooded borders, but re-entering darkness was hard; we had left our flashlights at camp. There were twelve of us: them and you and me.
Hand in hand, we sashayed through the dark wooded tunnel to the shoreline (the sight of the grapefruit sky through the trees). We emerged into blue-green and orange-pink. The vastness of the ocean was underwhelming after six days of dusktime visits, but day seven was the last, forever.
We slowly lowered ourselves onto the boulders (nature's jungle-gym). The week had be
TibetI found a poemTibet1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
caught between your knucklebones
like a prayer flag.
Hollow SuicideI love this world.Hollow Suicide4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I love it even when it's so beautifully achingly lonely that I can feel the drum of my pulse throbbing just under my skin, a constant reminder of the hollow center the veins connect back to.
Sometimes I think I want to build my future in the forest because the trees are so lovely but then I realize that I would be missing out on the vast, limitless blue expanses of oceanwater and the sound of the waves lapping at the shoreline. And then I think of the view from the mountains, or the honey-golden tones of the desert at sunset, the neon lights of the great cities, all the beautiful places in the world I have to choose from, but which one is the most beautiful in the end?
I think about the end of the world, how the forests would burn and the seas would dry up and the mountains would crumble and the cities would fall, and the destruction would still be hauntingly beautiful because it's a reminder of our own impermanence. A gentle memory of that faint