Dirt Beneath the CobblesDirt Beneath the Cobbles1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
London did not make itself an easy city to love; Christina knew that better than most. Keeping her eyes fixed to the cobbles underfoot, she forced herself to ignore the flood of people crowding into the streets, focusing on following the map tucked away in her memory. The 'In-Between' ran across the bridges of London. An area where the nobility could be found, braving the fetid air drifting across from the slums, gawking at the poor, worthless people who fell into the wrong side of London.
Pulling the rim of her hat lower Christina shrugged past the well dressed sightseers, slipping into the maze of narrow alleyways and filthy terraces which made up the slims. Sidestepping beggars; who huddled in doorways with outstretched palms, she gripped onto her collar, hiding behind the discoloured leather as she moved quickly. Here was where the unsavoury were kept out of sight. The laws set by men like Christina's father forbid those 'of less than pleasing appearance' to step onto the far banks
A Rose for Elizabeth SiddalA Rose for Elizabeth Siddal4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
At a lonely grave, Highgate bound
Kneels a ghost of love on winter ground
Weeping tears; a heart unfurled
Of sorrows unseen by the world.
Memories sound in gentle stillness
-Ophelia drowned in fatal illness
His love was late at her bedside
A fairer suit thus suicide
but she had always been and would-
The beauty whom his soul was tied.
A parting kiss, a whispered prayer
Love's poems concealed within her hair
And in the ground she then had slept
His paintings bled, his soul had wept
Each face was hers, each written word,
Tormenting dreams, each song he heard.
And from his guilt he tried to hide
A selfish wish tainted with pride
To take the gift buried within-
The grave she did reside.
Preserved was she, Her beauty true
Sleeping without breath
The Angel of his heart and soul
A rose untouched by death.
Mechanical loveMechanical love2 years ago in Visual Poetry More Like This
The Engineer curses.
Cups are knocked over.
Screws and gears scatter wildly.
Wine spills, drips on the floorboards.
A precious glass vial is just barely caught.
His assistant is cowering under the table, hiding.
Hurtling hunk of metal comes straight for him, he squeaks.
Assistant tries to dodge, forgets where he is and hits his head.
The Engineer gets a heavy wrench, hefts it, swings it threateningly.
He is not fast enough, every swing just hits air, making him dance around.
It is a silly dance, all flailing arms and stumbling steps, twirling in dizzy circles.
The assisistant comes out to help, gets nearly hit, is drawn into the dance himself.
"Stay behind me." the Engineer orders, pulling him to safety, out of the flying objects way.
Mechanical hearts all aflutter bumble around the room, bumping into furniture, emptying the shelves.
"Love is in the air~" the radio sings.
Excerpt of 'Day of the Dragons'Excerpt of 'Day of the Dragons'1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
- - An excerpt, taken from the fourth chapter of "The Girl in the Corner...", the 1st Episode in the "Day of the Dragons" serial, 2nd Edition of the Clockhaven Chronicles, by P.S. Chambers. (Copyright © 2012 by Penny Gaff Publishing, LLC)- -
Alone, Stan settled lower in the cockpit seat, assuming his natural role of observer rather than participant. Few of this select assembly were familiar to him. Some he had met with the briefest of introductions, while most were complete strangers. What he did know came from the gossip Missus Voorhees, his sturdy and earthy landlady, regaled him with during meal times.
The military men in their immaculate blue uniforms, gleaming black boots, and chests festooned with shiny bits of metal and colored ribbons, laid siege to a table garrisoned with ranks of bottled liquors. The servants were hard pressed to replace the casualties inflicted by the soldi
Intertwined HandsThough I think we fit,Intertwined Hands1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I feel like something's wrong,
with our bodies pressed together,
what happened to our song?
Why did the all the pictures fade away?
Why don't you put the special moments on replay?
What happened to the magic spark?
The speed of the marching band matching my heart?
Almost everything's gone,
but stored in my head,
after you fled.
You still hold me,
with glue, like rubber bands,
as you stare down,
at our intertwined hands.
I wish my eyes were a mirrorI wish my eyes were a mirrorI wish my eyes were a mirror1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so you can see you as i see
your heart was crushed by an image
built by a cruel society
I wish my eyes were a mirror
So that i may help you to believe
that what they say is lies
and show you how you are to me
I wish my Heart could speak clearer
to help you understand
that you are the only person
that can fill my empty hands
I wish i could be your savior
Wipe away your fresh tears
i would gently say i love you
as i hold you through the years
And i wish my soul was a healer
to undo all of the pain
Make all their hostile efforts
finally end in vain
But to you im just a stranger
or "Just friends at best"
because you fear that i will hurt you
just like all the rest
So i wish my eyes were a mirror
So you can see you as i see
And ill continue to count the days
until you become one with me.
Air Raid: A Steampunk Story "EEEHHHH...OOOOOOEEEEHHHHH......" I jerked up, grabbed my knife, and tugged my little sister to my chest. I rolled out of the bed to a crouch even before I was fully awake enough to think Air Raid. Slippers. Lana's feet would be cold and tug, tug, blanket off the bed. Glass might be flying. What else had the Masters at school said to do?Air Raid: A Steampunk Story2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The noise, the noise was loud. I curled up against Ammy, covered my ears, started to scream. "Make it go away, Ammy!" I managed to say before I started to sob. I hated the noise. It scared me. Always scared me. But Bear would make it better. He always made things better. I turned my head a bit to look at the bed, but Bear was gone. My breathing became rapid and panicky. "Where's Bear?" I needed him. Now.
"We have to go, Lana." Slippers flap when you run. It's really annoying. Blankets make it hard to see the door, which is even more annoying. And little sisters who don't run are the most annoying of all. Maybe the siren was jus
The BalloonShe hated him so much that she wanted to love him. She wanted to love him more than anything in her life. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms and promise to keep him forever.The Balloon2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But they tell her to leave him. "We know his type," they say. "The minute you begin to care about him, he leaves you forever and you'll be left to pick up the pieces."
She knows that they're right. She holds him by a string while he's miles above her. She loathes him, but her heart races every time she thinks of letting go of the string. She closes her eyes and the minute she opens them, she has to frantically reach for him.
Purple shadows grow beneath her eyes and blisters form where she has him tied at her wrist.
"Let him go," they whisper as they try to loosen him from her arm.
She shuffles, sleepy-eyed through the park, dragging him along behind her. A woman runs up behind her and points to the string.
"He is absolutely lovely. You're very lucky to have him miss," the woman says.
She begins to remove him fro
The End Of The WorldThe End Of The World3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
There is a place, at the end of the world,
A land beaten by the ocean's waves.
Beyond dark marshes as far as the eye can see,
Past the Black Mountains,
Further than the Lake of Anguish,
Sing Riwannon's birds of death.
Beyond the Valleys of Blood,
Past plains of arid moors,
Further than the Beach of Bones,
Echoes the shadows' complaints
And the krieriens' wails.
Beyond the Bay of the Dead,
Past the islands of Sein and Ouessant,
Is a place where the apples forever grow
And those who inhabit crystal palaces
Know no sorrow, illness or need,
Where the great kings sleep and where their bards,
Whose harps of fire with silver strings,
Will wake them up one day.
There is a place at the very end of Gaul, Claudian once said,
A place beaten by the ocean's waves
Where one hears the shadows' complaints
as they fly with a soft sound.
There is a place in the West of the ocean, Merlin once said,
An island covered with apple trees
Where one hears the souls' songs
As they dance to the sound of harps.
Changing GearsMy morning oats taste particularly bland this morning. I look outside the clouded windows and see the city across every inch of my vision. Buildings of all shapes and sizes are formed from copper, brass, and iron. At all times of the day, the city's Gears are churning.Changing Gears2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Gears are the machines that run the city, the country, possibly even the entire world. Metals are formed together to form them, robotic men designed to replace our government. Their voices boom over the industrial noises of the factories and drown seem to drown out all individual conversations. We're free, I suppose, but they all say that there was once a time when freedom was all we had.
Across the street, I see Thayoden. He's a boy who works in the aircraft factory, constructing engines and attaching steering wheels and dials to bi-planes. I met him in Industry class when we were both eleven years old. Ever since then, we've grown apart, but I still see him and think of how much I miss being with him. But we're dif
Ways to conquer heartbreakDance with fistfuls of roses, shred their petals one by one and wear their thorns like armor.Ways to conquer heartbreak1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Write your secrets between the folds of paper cranes and tuck them safely between the empty spaces of your castle ribs.
Open your broken heart to hummingbirds, allow them the warmth and shelter of your arms.
Rebel. Tape poetry to your limbs, Cummings and Sandburg and Sexton.
Take a walk outside of your skin for a while, run with wolves.
Extinguish that forest fire that’s been curling too long in your lungs.
Be that lionhearted girl those snobby poets always write about.
Allow that cavern of stars in your throat to speak your truths in uppercase letters, in free verse yet to be proofread.
Write about wars and victory.
Be the hero.
Cleansing ritualSageCleansing ritual2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Smudge clockwise in every room.
Bless this space by this rhyme
Bless this place bless this time
Energies be cleansed and clear
Take away all anger and fear
Then go around clockwise with the rain water sprinkling it chanting
I call my angels come to me
Bring me positive energy
Bless my home and hearth
Touch your magic to my heart
Then sprinkle salt in the four directions
My magic wield
In safety here
With no fear
Leather, Who Knew?Leather, Who Knew?2 years ago in Settings More Like This
Leather, Who knew?
Sarah and Christine gave James pleading looks (Christine trying to get him to help with their plan and Sarah begging him to refuse). He stared back at them in mild curiosity, moderate horror, and just a touch of fear. What they were asking him to do was entirely unlike them…alright, maybe not entirely unlike Christine but the fact that Sarah was in on this whole charade definitely threw him for a loop. James reflected that, what with all the elements within their request, Christine must have been planning all of this for quite a while. Little did he know that he was right and that Sarah had not agreed to this of her own free will.
Nope. Not at all. Nada.
The whole situation had started the previous night when she’d gotten a little too plastered with Christine. Her roommate had been bugging her about Jareth, again, earlier in the day so Sarah should have been paying more attention when Christine suggested they break out that bottle of wine. Unfortunately,
As The World Falls Down (labyrinth)As The World Falls Down (labyrinth)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Give me the child,” demanded Sarah.
“Sarah, beware. I have been generous up 'til now. I can be cruel,” I reminded.
“Generous? What have you done that's generous?”
“Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?”
“Jareth, you gave me thirteen hours to solve the labyrinth. I have done what you wished. I just want my brother back, please.”
“But what’s said is said,”
“I didn’t mean it,”
“Oh, you didn’t,”
“Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave,”
“I just want my brother back.”
I stepped forward, I was inches away and I carefully placed my hands on her hips.
White Rabbit PillWonderland I am swallowing youWhite Rabbit Pill2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blue-white, blue-white, blue-white
Tumbling down my rabbit-hole esophagus into the flooded warren
Where swims the swiftly dissolving key to my stable growth.
Wonderland I am swallowing,
But this will never do.
The words come when I call them, tumbling &
Stumbling over one another to be first
During the appointment, having meant what I meant, or not, as I pleased,
And all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't
Knit my meanings together again
Oh, Wonderland, Wonderland, Wonderland.
Here I come. Again. How dull.
Tea? Sandwiches? Cakes?
I can't v
LizzieFrom the moment I saw her I knew she was the one. Smooth alabaster skin framed with rich, copper curls; cherry lips curving into the faintest flicker of a smile; emerald eyes gleaming beneath long ebony lashes. A picture of such great beauty that none could compare. My artist's fingers ached to paint her, to capture that eternal glory and share it with the world. Yet the hands of a man are much less generous, and I was no exception. I wanted her. To take her, to feel her perfect form against me, to claim her as my own. My model, my muse; Lizzie.Lizzie4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was walking when I first laid eyes upon her, dainty feet gracing the cobbled streets of London. Her body seemed to slide over the ground, hardly moving, her elegance shining through her impoverished exterior. Her breasts heaved beneath a tight bodice, her skirt a little shorter than what was decent. There was no mistaking what she was, but that face, the face of an angel. And such sadness in those glowing orbs, such quiet desperation. Oh, i
How To Die In a Horror Movie1. Freddy doesn't scare me, if he tried to appear in my dreams, they'd scare him and he'd leave.How To Die In a Horror Movie4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
2. A dude in a hokey mask is not scary, I'd think he was a goaly and throw a puck at him.
3. If Michael Myers was on a rampage through my town, I'd hug him.
4. If a man called me and asked "Have you checked the children?" I'd tell him "Yes, they're good, very good. And so am I! Wanna come down and play boardgames with us!?"
5. A serial killer has captured me, I'd cause him to call the police on himself by arguing against how he wants to kill me. Hey, if I'm gonna get killed, they better kill me my way!!
6. There is nothing scary about a dude with needles in his head, he just really needs to go to an emergency room.
7. Zombie children want to kill everyone who is not related to them, well I'm not related to them, but I'll give em a time out anyways.
8. Jigsaw wants to play a game, but I don't like that game. I'll demand we play Candy Land instead.
9. It's never nice to give someone up to the
InstructionsWear dreamsong like a gownInstructions2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wear rainscent like a cloak
no shoes, your bare feet know the way
in and out the twisted place
tell them you don't know your name
yet don't dare to actually forget
listen to the honey light fiddle
but forbid your feet to dance
for the music is enchanting
and your feet won't stop
when you want to leave
sing a homesong, follow your feet
through dark forest, over fragile bridge
unknown paths, an open door
you will never find back.
Hard To DreamHard To DreamHard To Dream2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The day was over, here comes the night
Light gently disappears from the sky
Which turn black as hours pass
And going cold as midnight wind breezes
Presents the right moment for me
To close my eyes and then sleep
But I still cannot
The memories of my day haunt me
Sometimes they whisper ; but sometimes they scream
Next to my ear, next to my heart
I pray for the morning to come faster
And for the night to leave the world
Because I need to see even small light
To help me not to fall in my dreams
I don't want to close my eyes again
But I want to see a new dawn coming
The Nightmare: A Steampunk Story Maybe she wouldn't wake up. I swallowed and climbed into her bed. Had I ever sneaked into her room before? I did not think so. It was always her coming to me.The Nightmare: A Steampunk Story2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I had held it together all day, shedding the memory of the nightmare as I slipped into the dress my father had chosen for my birthday celebration. Smiling and laughing, I'd accepted compliments about: how pretty I would be in a few more years at my 'Coming Out', how I would be able to take my pick of the eligible young men, and how everyone would want me. The dress smolders now in the Ash's backyard fire pit.
My mask was slipping here in the dark. So white night gown not quite covering my icy feet, I'd slipped from my borrowed bed, through the silent halls of the Ash mansion, to break tradition and come to her door instead. Sliding under the covers, I laid my head on Lana's back.
I had woken up when someone's weight
DarkDarkDark10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Deep, down inside my mind,
You'll find a hidden clue,
Dark depressing, thoughts and dreams,
Are all that comfort you.
PomegranatePomegranate2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are not like wine.
They are more intricate
than that which blots
a poet's lips
and leaves his senses
They are not like honey -
the morbid sweet
and clinging flow
of thick and amber light
that tangles up
Instead, they are like
and dense with juice,
their flesh pulsing
on my lips
and that dark
of Eve's final wish.