Am IAm I invisible?Am I2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because you ignore me,
Am I that shadow on the ground?
Because you're walking over me.
Am I camouflaged?
Because you deliberately turn your back on me,
Am I alive?
Because you act as though I don't exist.
Am I dead?
Because you look at me as though I'm a spirit,
Am I just a colour?
Because you judge me as though I am.
Am I unwanted?
Because you make me feel that way.
Am I just a fish in the sea?
Because you caught me, but then you let go.
The colour of my skin doesn't defy the person inside,
Whether I'm Brown, Black, Yellow or White;
The words you use to hurt me,
Cannot take away my pride.
High MaintenanceRoses are red, Violets are blueHigh Maintenance4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Doesn't that line just sound cheesy to you?
When I open my card, I hope to find
an original, sweet, more creative line.
All that you do, is scribble your name
at the end of a poem that's genuinely lame!
Tut...roses are red, violets are blue
Do I look bloody colour blind to you?!
You didn't even write it! It came with the card!
Poetry isn't exactly hard!
Sweetheart, I love you, really I do
But I coulnd't care less that violets are blue!
Couldn't you have made an effort this time?
Coz I'm getting real sick of reading that line!
Most girls love romance, well I do for sure!
Tu Peut même parler français pour proclamer ton amour!
That would be different! That would be sweet!
Come on baby, sweep a girl off her feet!
I'm not asking for much, just some more va va voom.
Love doesn't have to be shown in the bedroom!
Sonnet 1My afflicted form embraces the coldSonnet 11 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My heart lays shattered like a pane of glass,
For the claws of Lady Love have torn my soul
And now I freeze in the coldness of her wrath.
All I wish is to hold her fragile form
And caress her with the fire of my love,
Yet I lay here, my body bruised and worn,
Heart willing, but the mind has said "enough".
No longer shall you prosper in my pain.
If love be cruel, then it wears a disguise,
Yet I know that my glass heart shall strain
If I must stare into your tear-filled eyes.
For, after a time, my soul shall mend
And, perhaps one day, we'll love again.
True Devotion~Her heart and soul are given, willfully,True Devotion~1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in sacrifice to the one she loves.
It's not an easy thing for her but
she gradually does it, finally believing
and convinced in herself that the feelings
they share are perfectly aligned, like the stars,
in hope of a gleaming future together.
In this she believes, with quiet and open trust,
and so it seems only possible, though a gamble
at best, for her to give in, opposing all doubt.
And though she fears much, it cannot stop
the will of her heart that transitions to action,
for what she fervently desires most is that
he'll remember all she has done and is doing,
and cherish everything she will do just to be his,
happily devoted love, eternal - living for the
moments he makes her feel truly beautiful.
You.YOU.You.1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Once you were there,
you never went away.
My thougths never gave my soul a chance to rest,
constantly thinking about you,
what you are doing,
what you would be thinking,
how you are feeling.
You are a prisoner in my head,
but at the same time ,
I'm a prisoner to you.
All my doings,
my thougths and my words,
are chained to a vision of seeing you again,
the vision of holding you in my arms and while I say I truely love you.
And I know it's proberly just yougn love,
the love that never least long,
but at the same time it's the most beautiful love of all.
so I'm not really thinking about the future, or about the past.
I'm just enjoying the feeling of having you near.
lay in my arms while my lips touch yours,
so that just for now, just for this moment...
everything can be alright.
A Victorian Lady, to Her GentlemanI wish I had been born like George SandA Victorian Lady, to Her Gentleman1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
with all the courage of trousers
to grasp you, a Chopin with your sweet fingers.
But I am a girl beneath my petticoats;
I long to tangle my white-gloved fingers
In the folds of your cravat,
Like oceans meeting,
But I grasp instead the swan neck of my
Lace parasol, like an anchor.
Love, break open my steel rib cage
And make of me a poet,
Make my snarled letters into kisses
And their thorned brambles bloom roses.
The Girl Who Melts Magic (Vent)A young girl dances in the storm,The Girl Who Melts Magic (Vent)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pale like the snow,
But eyes as bright as the sun.
She grasps the snow in her little fists.
Her echoing laughter travels through the air,
But is ripped apart by the violent winds.
Her smooth white hair,
Is tangled by the storm.
But everything starts to change,
Slipping out of her hands
Like melting snow,
Leaving her with a mark of it’s absence.
She reaches out,
She clenches her fists,
In attempt to reclaim those parts
But it leaves her,
With a feeling of emptiness.
It’s part of her nature,
What she’s been born with,
That makes her feel this way.
There's no way out.
No matter how many needles you stab her with,
No matter how many scans you perform,
No matter how much you poke and prod her,
And drug her with your “magic”,
Id like to tell a storyI'd Like To Tell a Story...Id like to tell a story4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'd like to tell a story
About someone I used to know.
Just a little something
That happened long ago.
It's not something of legend
Or of greek mythology
But just a sad little tale
Kept in my memory.
The first thing I remember
Are her brilliant green eyes
And the way they used to shine
Even on the dullest of nights.
Then there's her firey hair
That cascaded into curls.
And her snowy face and freckled cheeks...
She was a very pretty girl.
But sadly she didn't think so
Due to the words which others said.
The evil comments and snide remarks
Soon polluted the poor girl's head.
Days went by and it grew worse
I'd find bruises on her skin.
She'd cry when I'd confront her
And she'd say it was nothing.
Her chair at school stayed empty
For days and weeks on end
She'd stay at home, all alone
And pray her heart would mend.
Then one day I got a phonecall
It was her mother on the line.
"I've got something to tell you..."
And then she began to cry.
You see pe
Disney UniversityDisney UniversityDisney University1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
In the town of Kansas City, Kansas, a yellow school bus pulls up to a small, one-level, white house with a red roof, a one car garage, three gnomes in front of a long bush with blue and white flowers on it, and a white staircase with three steps. The school bus door opens and out jumps a very cute little 7-year old girl with brown hair with a strand of hair hanging on her forehead, with a ponytail tied with a blue hair ribbon, and hazel eyes. She's wearing a cute blue and white dress, a purple backpack with a pink rose on it, white socks and black mary-jane shoes, holding a book called Song Of The West by Nora Roberts in her arms. As the school bus leaves, the young girl named Belle Rosewood ran up the stairs, and opened the black door. "Papa, I'm home!" Belle called out closing the door, and hanging her backpack on the hook near the door. A young semi-plump man in his late twenties with brown hair, blue eyes, white shirt, brown workpants, and black shoes wal
Now You See ItYou say I have a vivid imagination.Now You See It1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You tell me stop lying about the things I see.
You say my behavior is wild and unacceptable.
And every time I tell you there are shadows chasing me, you don’t believe.
But what if I told you there was light that battled those shadows too?
Would you see it?
What if I told you you’re blind to it,
And gave you sight?
What if you took that sight and saw what I see?
Then, would you see it?
So now you know
Now you see it.
The Start of Something BeautifulThe Start of Something Beautiful and the Loss ThereofThe Start of Something Beautiful1 year ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Once, a long time ago, I fell in love with music. Not the beating notes on the radio or the smashing drums of my brother’s CD collection, but the flowing and melodic compositions of pianos and violins. These instruments resonated with me on a deeper level. Being only five years of age, I could not put that emotion into words: I simply knew that I loved the sound and feeling they gave me.
My parents discovered my love for music and set up lessons to learn an instrument through a family friend.
I remember my first lesson as clear as day. My mother led me into a small apartment that smelled faintly of cooking and older people. Inside the tiny living space, a modern little electronic piano stood in stark contrast to a ragged couch and threadbare rug. At the piano sat an elderly man of unknown age. To say he was grizzled would be an understatement. He appeared old, withered, sm
Spring HaikuA soft breeze sweeps throughSpring Haiku2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Pale cherry blossom petals
Carrying my tears.
73. I. Can't.You told me to rejoice and not to grieve.73. I. Can't.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You would ascend, that's what you did believe.
I tried not to show the sun the tears I cried
So you would not see them, too. I really tried.
I cannot rejoice now that you are gone.
I can't write you a happy poem nor a song,
Especially not in the language that you spoke.
I can't fulfil your last wish for one last joke.
But neither must I not turn this wish down,
So I might paint myself the smile of a clown.
Because I cannot shut down grief and tears,
At least not for now, maybe in a few years.
Would you wait for me to do what you asked for?
Would my inability make you feel sore?
I'm so very sorry that I just can't do
What you twice asked and wished of me to do.
But I can't, no matter how hard I try
And in the end I always weep and cry...
Step by stepYou told me I'd be free.Step by step2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Free to choose anything, whatever
I wanted to have, to do, to become.
And so I went my way. And I lived with my choices,
I tried to move on.
But I forgot to leave things behind,
some items, and the past.
Because of that,
my so-called freedom, my new life was
I was still taunted by everything,
I still moved mechanically
when holding that one object.
And I tried breaking off these chains,
but I kept getting stuck,
all I once tried to forget floats around me.
And I gave in,
once again fooled by my weak mind.
I go back to step one.
Taking a Shot at LoveHer body moved like an angel's. She was so careful of every step and so fluent with her movements. There were other ballerinas but I couldn't keep my eyes off her. She was so clean. Not a single flaw anywhere. She wasn't even the main character but she brought the story to life for me. I made it a point to talk to her. After the show I waited outside. My ride wasn't there yet so I had an excuse. My cousin was picking me up but he was always late. When the dancers made their way outside, I was ready. I approached the group. I picked her out immediately. I walked as confidently as I could but my hands were shaking. I swallowed hard and introduced myself. She seemed a bit off put at first but I quickly explained why I was still in the area and it seem to put her at ease. Her friends were smiling and whispering behind her watching my every move. Eventually I mustered up whatever strength I had and asked her to dinner.Taking a Shot at Love1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was taken.
I never went to see another ballet.
The Games We PlayI spyThe Games We Play4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your beautiful eyes,
My favourite stars,
Yeah, they shine so bright.
Honey, if you love me
Would you please, please smile?
Or maybe, just maybe
You could stay for awhile.
Your tearstained eyes
And the crack in your heart
As I wave goodbye.
Honey, I can't love you,
But boy, will I smile.
It's so much simpler
Living in denial.
Big HandsPlace your palm against mine. Go on, do it.Big Hands4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Too big, right? My hands are too big. Sometimes, I don't know my own strength. Sometimes they break things, unintentionally of course. Sometimes I break things, unintentionally of course.
Is that a lie? Sometimes I think it must be, because no one can do so much harm by accident.
My hands threaten to envelop yours completely, to swallow them up. But don't worry, they're strong but they're gentle, I promise. It's my words you need to be wary of.
My words, they hurt. They may be soft, flimsy, sometimes just a little bit too small, but they're dangerous.
Size is of no consequence.
Well, we all know that isn't true. If my hands were models they'd be jeered off the runway. Yes, they are too big.
But perhaps, the size of my palm alters it's reading. Follow my lifeline, it must stretch for miles. And my love line? Broken as it is, each piece is still enough.
Go on, trace your fingers across my palm and I'll do my best not to giggle. I'm sure you'll
Becoming a siamese cat (TF parody)Apologize TF ParodyBecoming a siamese cat (TF parody)1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Siamese cat. Random Italian guy named Peppino.
He’s walking down a road
Trying to make not much sound
He’s heading on his way
To a restaurant underground
He hears a yowl near him
A Siamese cat looks around
It gets right closer to him
He thought it wanted a pat
Then it gave his hand a bite
A mean bite
Right then it gave his hand a bite
A mean bite, mean bite oh oh!
Before it had another chance
He gave a call, flung it away from him, oh oh
He knew it wasn’t right for a cat
To take bits so rude, yeah
He shrank and saw all red
With his changing paws
And he changed.
Tail grew out of his back
Hell it was all something new
But he’s changed...
Into a siamese cat
And now he’s become a siamese cat
He’s changing whoa!
[Interlude in which he finishes changing into a siamese cat)
And all this from just one bite
It’s too late
And he was italian but now he’s not
Survival of the IllestAre those hints of lemon I detect?Survival of the Illest2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Look, I'm just here to get wasted, don't try
to make it more than that.
I'd drink motor oil if I thought
it could get me high; chase it with a shot
you can keep your survival instincts,
in that pretty velvet box (along with all
those other things
you thought you could convince yourself
you lived for). Instincts are the bare
bones of the impossibilities we wanted
to believe in,
those times you tried to tell me that
adrenaline was God's way
we were His chosen ones, we were
special, we were free.
I tried to tell you that instincts and God
can't exist side by side, but I was already
far gone, cornea constellations
spiraling and you looked at me with such pitiful
I just gave up the fight.
I told you once that my goal in life
is to kill myself slowly, immerse my organs
of whiskey and scotch
over a fifty-years-or-so period. "Just think,"
"it will be like an ocean, w
R+V: Confession and a Vampire: Reboot: Ch. 18R+V: Confession and a Vampire: Reboot: Ch. 189 months ago in Profiles More Like This
Rosario + Vampire "A Confession and a Vampire: Reboot"
Chapter 18 "Silver Screen"
Based upon Characters created by Akihisa Ikeda.
Original idea and story written by Gamera68.
Pairing: 'Inner' Moka Akashiya and Tsukune Aono.
Alternate Reality, set after the events of the now-finished manga series.
Comedy / Slice-Of-Life / Romance
Moka and Tsukune are 19 years old.
A/N: Here is a new chapter. Mostly a 'slice-of-life', episode Takes place in late July.
By the way, as of this writing this story now has 24,600 views. Thank you everyone so much!
As Moka and Tsukune walked hand-in-hand towards the downtown shopping district of his hometown, the silver-haired beauty couldn't believe that today she would be experiencing another of her "firsts" with her fiancé. It was a rather warm July day with hardly a cloud in the azure sky above. Thankfully a cool breeze drifted inland eastward, from the Sea of Japan which was not that far from the actual business