time machineThe sun gives light to the moon but the moonlight is much more aspiring than the sun.time machine5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It is a kind of sadness, which only knows of sad songs
and can only listen to the sound of rivers unweaving and
paper sailboats grasping for anchors.
Silver butterflies flutter their wings in the night sky
and the stars would shimmer in consent.
His house seem to always be right under the moonlight at night
Like a little toy house placed at one spot for every night, every show
There is always something that reminds me of outer space at this magical spot.
The sun's deep golden yellow fades into pale moon-white and the grass covering the lawn is deep black and brown.
He was sitting beside his old sailboat that was strung to a wooden pole.
His eyes were flowing with music notes, like a river unweaving, a soft piano in an obscured room.
I go over and sit beside him without a word because his mind can be in faraway places when he is sitting under the moonlight. right now, under the shine his skin is even p
6.02 x 10 to the twenty-third6.02 x 10 to the twenty-third5 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
think: eno(this existance never seems)ugh.
inhale[1, 2, 3, 4, 5
(maybe if i hold my breath long enough, everything will go away)
-how much l o n g e r do i have to
smiley faces.There's got to be something more for me.smiley faces.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
A teenage girl stared at the journal she had been keeping over the past year or two. Littered throughout the pages were poems and stories of loss, suffering, and giving up. Each one seemed the same, reflecting how dark her thoughts had become. The room in which she sat in was dim as well, the curtains were barely open, and the lights were off. Yet she preferred it this way, because it was her own room after all. And she liked the dark - her thoughts could gather easily, but sometimes memories would annoyingly show themselves when she didn't want them present. Her father had died two years before, and the remnants of that tragedy still trailed behind her like a determined stalker, or an anchor keeping her fixed and unable to move forward.
As she sat in that room, she read each and every writing piece that had gathered in those crinkly pages, still unable to figure out why her life had become so miserable. She didn't have any friends at sch
Valiant KnightValiant Knight6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let me be your Valiant Knight, and for you I will always fight,
Till my last drop of blood, for the one I solemnly love,
To protect you is my destiny, you can't object to my postliminy.
So I will charge with all my might, and fight for your right,
As I go down this path there is no looking back, I must attack with all my wrath,
While I march, through my heart I am sending you all my love, while we are far apart,
What I would give to feel your touch one last time, oh I am missing you so much,
Now the battle draws near, and everything comes to a complete pause,
There are dead bodies all around me, with the scent of death floating in the air,
Our armys collide, everyones screaming, people are dying, but I stand tall,
I gather my Strength, and I swing my blade, I will never be afraid,
I am a valiant knight, and for you I will always fight,
Till my last drop of blood, for the one I solemnly love,
Theres too many of them, I am overwhelmed by the masses, I am doomed
I fall t
Ianto's Decision Part 2Ianto's Decision Part 26 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Last time; Jack has not woken for over a year after Ianto was forced to shoot him. The gun is up to Ianto's throat.
'he tightened his grip on the trigger..'
"Yan! Stop!" Jack's hoarse voice screamed. Ianto looked down at down at Jack who had grabbed him lightly by the arm. "Jack." Ianto said crying. Jack stood as Ianto collapsed on the floor in tears. "Shhh. It's okay. Don't cry. It's okay." Jack caressed him, kissing him and stroking his hair. "I love you Ianto." he said, holding back tears. It hurt him to see Ianto cry. "I love you too." Ianto cried again. "Don't die again. Please don't leave me again. Just then, Gwen ran in. "Jack? Jack!" she screamed breathlessly. she ran over to give him a kiss. "Tosh! Owen! Get your arses out here!" Owen came first, holding the singularity scalpel. He dropped it on the floor and ran over to Jack. "What is i- Jack! Jack!" Tosh screamed as she walked out. They were all crying. Especially Ianto, still lying in Jack's arms.
Ianto laid on the bed,
Day five SPOILERS ficIantos body had been placed in a hefty body bang only an hour later. Jack hadnt said goodbye. He hadnt said anything. How could he? What would he say to the dead man he had loved that now lay before him. No he had to move on. Jack Harkness always moved on. Didnt he?Day five SPOILERS fic6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
They were waiting to talk to him but Jack couldnt face it.
Talk to him I need to. I cant right now...
Everything blurred into silence as Gwen sat talking through their options. She was so adamant still threatening with the footage. Jack knew it wouldnt work. And deep down so did she.
Take her home.
Jack muttered his eyes still brimming.
Gwens eyes widened and her tired body tensed.
Gwen go home. Tell Iantos family. I... I need to be here. I deserve punishment. I deserve what ever Im given.
Jack you cant...
Gwen had no choice she was taken by the guards in the opposite direc
GravityHe flew balloonsGravity6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like they were dreams
in the city air.
He flew them high
until each one
like popcorn in a microwave sky.
LeavesMeasured breaths, in and outLeaves6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your mind is a slow breeze
A deathly chill entwined
Oh how youd love
To sweep them up
Set them alight
And let those ashes fly away, so far away
How could resolution
In a wind this absolute
These leaves are here to stay
So intricate with thoughts
Rustling and whispering
Perhaps one day the wind will die down
You wait, matches in hand.
FingerprintsFingerprints9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On the bedpost.
You left and never returned to take back.
On the mantel above the fireplace.
You left and failed to remember.
On the doorknob.
You left and didn't clean up.
On the gate.
Confidant in ShadowFlowing like a river,Confidant in Shadow6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Floating through the tears,
You feel the martyrs' shiver,
You relent upon their fear,
This emotion wells inside you,
It isn't something new,
The past will come to find you,
Selected by the few.
Drowning in this river,
Beneath it's murky depths,
Soon it will be never,
Crushed beneath this test,
You feel it push inside you,
I know you surely must,
Lust will come and find you,
Desire you can't trust.
this love is better lostKissing you feels like falling into fresh-out-of-the-dryer sheets and begging them to smother me because the world looks better through closed eyes and it's nicer to be warm and dead than freezing and alive.this love is better lost6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Kissing you is like jumping out of the plane only to realize that you forgot the parachute and the world is coming up fast and it sounds beautiful to die thinking about love but it doesnt really matter because poetic death is still death in the end.
Holding you feels soft and painless and I think that maybe life isn't all that bad, but I'd rather be wandering about in the dark places of my mind, painting my own worlds, than being painted by the one that we're living in.
Holding you is like sipping cyanide-laced-wine, because the first taste is perfect, the second is smooth and by the time you realize the third one bites more than it should, youre blue-lipped and gasping for air.
Waking up next to you is like waking up in a fairy tale only to find th
Crimson ApologyMy pen is dead.Crimson Apology9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It ran out of ink penning my apology.
So now I write in my own fresh blood.
Slitting a wrist and letting blood drip.
Drip steadly into a wooden bowl at my side.
So with my blood.
And my final minutes.
I wanted to write one last poem.
I wanted to tell you how much I love you.
I love you enough to bleed to death to tell you.
I love you enough to use my blood as ink.
I love you so much.
So with a quill dipped in blood.
I wanted to tell you.
I've always loved you.
I'll always love you.
Any time I was with you I was ontop of the world.
When we were apart.
I felt empty and hollow.
I love you.
So as a last request.
Written in my blood I ask.
And try to forgive me for the pain I caused you.
More than anything.
For my final wish.
In my final poem.
I ask that you love me as I do you.
Inside the LinesThey arrange in rows, vibrating,Inside the Lines6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
calculating the first move.
Decked each in bright colors, look at me
look at me, hi mom, do you see
sunlight glinting from glinting places
around a hundred faces, flush with nervous
waiting, and watching for the signal,
and it comes with raised arm and a sharp stroke
down, and down the rows the thunder rolls,
and so begins
the first movement.
Harvest Moon, A Love StoryChapter 1Harvest Moon, A Love Story9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
A young woman, about the age of eighteen sat at the librarian's desk. She was quite pretty, even though she would never admit this herself. Her long, black hair was tied near the base in a sort of pony tail and she had brilliantly grey eyes. She wore a blue sleeveless top over a crisp white shirt, with a red ribbon under the collar. She also wore a blue, pleated, knee length skirt with a pair of black shoes and a pair of glasses. This is Mary, the librarian of Mineral town.
Mary sat at her desk, her head resting on her hand at a slight angle. Her eyes were glazed over as she sat, deep in thought.
I wonder if he'll come today, Mary thought. It's not as if I like him, it's just nice to have someone to keep me company. At the thought of this, Mary blushed.
The person that Mary that is referring to is Seph, a young man who came to Mineral town almost a year ago to run the old farm.
The first time Mary met him was the fourth day he had arrived. His face, hands and clothes w
CounselorTake the pillCounselor6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It doesn't kill,
It makes you fit.
Don't be in a worry
You won't feel it in the morning
Just hide the feelings, let it bury
Its effect is adorning.
There you go,
You'll feel better
You may be low,
Just write a sad letter.
Go to sleep
Dream sweet dreams
The sun will knock soon, it deems,
I take back what I said,
I've done you a wonderful deed,
SelfishIm cold beside the fire. I never feel the same warmth that seems to radiate through me when Im in your presence. They call you impossible, an unnatural presence upon our damp earth. I know thats not true. Something so perfect surely couldnt be unnatural.Selfish6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Your eyes sparkle with every look you cast, every emotion you feel.
Your lips entice my own sending tremors through my body as they connect.
To touch your hair, to run my fingers through the fields of perfection is a privilege and I know it.
But then theres me. Plain. Nothing special. Not worth your time, attention, effort. Im lucky for the few brief glances I receive and yet you give me more.
You keep giving. And selfishly I keep taking.
Diary #2 Entry 72
The Moments that Matter p1The Moments that MatterThe Moments that Matter p16 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
part 1 - A Way With Words
Spoilers for Children of Earth day 4
Captain Jack Harkness was one of those people who could talk and talk. He could con the cleverest of men, bluff his way out of many a situation and flirt successfully with pretty much everyone.
Captain Jack Harkness had no problem talking.
He could talk for Cardiff. He could talk for Wales. He could talk for Great Britain. Hell, sometimes he could talk for the Earth (Mainly because sometimes he had to - on behalf of the Earth). He could probably even talk till the end of the world.
But when the world was close to its end way earlier than anyone ever expected over a deal with an alien race named the 456, which gave the Government the decision of either sending 10% of the world's population of children to the 456, or refusing and the whole human race would be wiped out. The world was close to its end Day 4 of the 456 catastrophe - and Jack was holding his dying love
today.i am colouring in a wrinkled-up torn paper sketchbook on my lap, pencil clinking with the sound of windchimes between my frail fingertips as drawing thoughts soar through my summer-fixed mind. sunlight peeks through my tilted pencil and creates a rough black line edged on the side. i stop drawing for a moment, fill my lungs with blissful fresh air, and start again, refreshed with new thoughts of big-eyed children running in cascading meadows with their long hair dragging behind them like a veil intermingling with the grass below.today.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am breathing the sea-sweet air through burning-warm nostrils with my feet squishing through the mutable tan-grain sand, the scorching warmth pressing against my bare skin. my salt-dry paper inside my sketchbook is covered in messy charcoal lines, and my pencil curves over its pressed hills as the golden sunlight swerves around my shadowed-pink lips opened like a rose.
at day, i am thinking of a forest surrounded by birds- lush green and yellow-orange trees d
Ward fourMonday morning; today is the day my Mum is due into hospital. We're walking through the automatic doors at the entrance; the walls surrounding me are white. I have been here before, but this time it's more terrifying than ever. We walk over to the elevator and push the four button. Ward four is the major surgery ward. The walls here are red... is this supposed to make people feel happy? Personally, it just reminds me of blood.Ward four6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
We walk down the hall to the nurses station, we're escorted to room 22. There are four beds bed one is a man but he has his curtain shut. Bed two is a man who's on a ventilator. Bed three is my mothers, she has gall bladder cancer. They said they caught it early, and even though the prognosis is death she should be okay. Bed four is a Maori lady, she had stomach cancer last year and they called her back to the hospital.
The nurse that escorted us into the room left, while another came in with syringes in her hands. She has brown hair in a pony tail; she's
She's been hereShe's here.She's been here9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She's so near.
You must escape her wrath dear.
Father's bodies litter the streets.
They're nothing more than unrecognizable pieces of meat.
Mother's swing strung up high.
The smell of their rotting flesh rising to the sky.
She's been here.
She's the one who made this fear.
She's the one who made her hate so clear.
It's to late to run now dear.
The children sit in the street huddled.
Their world in choas and thier minds befuddled.
The girls are grabbed one by one and upon them committed rape.
She's to blame, it's all because of her hate.
The boys are laid to rest.
The hearts ripped from their chests.
She's to blame, this is because of her pain.
The pain that drove her to do this and drove her insane.
She's murdered this town.
And into to the earth she lay all the people down.
Only one person is yet to remain.
A person who watches her, as it begins to rain.
A man who claimed to love her.
She turns to him without so much as a murmur.
She looks at him with crazed eyes.
As he st
The Pandorica ClosesThey all cameThe Pandorica Closes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To the Sealing
To lock away forever
Their ultimate foe
Their worst nightmare
A trap was set
One he couldn't ignore
Of saving creation
The Pandorica will open
Silence will fall
All universes destroyed
The universe cracked
The Oncoming Storm
Was the only thing
That could save them
And they locked it away
In their little box
What now will come
Now that stars never lived?
What hope has the omniverse left
For its continued existance?
Will anything come
After the Pandorica is closed?
for Stephenblackened jack boots grinding to dust cherry blossomsfor Stephen6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The Holocaust still burying the innocent
Grey MelodiesGrey Melodies10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The windshield wipers of Evelyn's car squeaked each time they returned to their original place. The sound wasn't particularly loud, but it was the only real noise being made, apart from the gentle hum of the vehicle as it drove along the empty road. The rain outside was only a light shower, but it was enough to require wipers, and to turn the sky grey.
"Pretty dismal weather, isn't it?"
Keeping her eyes on the road ahead, Evelyn gave a slight nod in response to her mother's comment, and then the sound of the wipers took over once more.
Evelyn's mother, Margaret, was in her early sixties, but she looked almost exactly as she had thirty-one years ago, when her first and only child was born. She had never allowed her naturally pale skin to tan, she had never changed her make-up or hair style, and even before the first signs of grey, she had successfully found a shade of brown that matched her original hair colour perfectly; evidently her hair was not just brown, it was Haz