Anatomic and foreign inside of youAt times, I thought that roadmapAnatomic and foreign inside of you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in your chest was the reason why I gathered
dust at night.
But one day,
on the coldest afternoon,
I dwelled in your body
through your eyelids
and travelled through these streets
long enough to know that your unexplained hunger
wasn't going to cease-
I was barefoot in the days
where the sun scorched its rage
on every drop of sweat hiding in my nape
that they gave up and ran away,
like little gypsies looking for an oasis
to build their tents in,
standing on bare sand dunes-
relieved that the prejudice of their pagan artistry
was replaced with acres
and acres of dry, barren landscape.
This was how I strived in your body,
your lungs thick with air.
The heat of the day-
it kept urging me
to travel further into your anatomy
to look for shelter
in your bitter bones
and your fragile tissue--
but at night your blood was so cold
and full of froth
I imagined myself freezing
inside of you,
death as the only surrender.
(Is this how you truly are?
too hot and too col
Sacrifice: Chapt. 3Jasper shivered slightly as the cool breeze flowed over him, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silent night. He and the others had been on the move towards Israphel's lair, pausing only for a night or two when they needed to rest. They were close now, the plan being that they would be able to arrive there in the morning.Sacrifice: Chapt. 34 years ago in Drama More Like This
But the Skylord had made other plans. Despite the chill in the air, he had set off ahead of the rest of the team. Not that any of them would notice until they all woke up the next day.
He sighed softly, shaking his head a little. Don't think about things like that, he thought. He needed to focus on the path he was taking to Israphel's lair. It wasn't that much further to go from here.
"Lysander," Xephos hissed, shaking the sleeping Skylord. The other grumbled softly in his half-asleep phase, pushing his hand off of his shoulder. Xephos sighed and shook him more. "Lysander, wake up! Jasper's missing."
With that, Lysander wa
The End of Bieber's TyrannyJustin Bieber braced himself before he stepped out onto the stage. Hundreds, no, thousands of screaming girls awaited to see him, to adore their baby-faced idol, to shower him with their love. In his mind he went through his opening linesthe same ones he'd opened the last fifteen concerts withand he breathed deeply. This was his moment, yet again. After this he'd be able to take a vacation from all the singing and dancing.The End of Bieber's Tyranny5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Thank god I don't have to work. That'd kill me. Bieber thought to himself.
Finally deciding that he was ready, the boy stepped out from behind the curtains, onto a bright blue stage with an equally sky-colored background. Three gigantic flat-screen TVs showed his face as he raised the microphone to his lips to speak. He strutted to the edge of the stage and spoke.
"Hey, how's it going San Fran? Wasup?"
More screaming. The girls in the front row jumped up and down and clapped and shrieked. He couldn't help but smile. Man, I wonder when girls will
Stained LightIt used to break so easily,Stained Light1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
my fragile heart of glass.
Not as transparent as it used to be.
Such clarity was never meant to last.
In my days of youth the light shone bright,
through it crystal clear.
Until experience kept tainting it,
throughout the many years.
Lessons of Sorrow stained it blue,
Joy blotched in yellow in-between.
Moments of Hate marred it scarlet,
While Forgiveness smudged it green.
Down Life's rocky road, it chipped and cracked,
worn out by stormy weather.
Many times it threatened to fall apart,
but Love kept it together.
Time has healed my colored wounds,
lightening the many darkened shades.
I shall always treasure the chromatic hues
that I shall never change or trade.
No longer does my heart shine pure.
But that is quite alright.
For I no longer reflect the shine of others,
But give off my own stained light.
GodsWe are not gods, love, gods do not bleed.Gods2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They don't bleed when they come home and the wind was south and the head hurts and the floor is tiled with nails,
they don't bleed when the oars are splintered, and they don't leave red flecks on 7 am paper cups.
Their way is starlight and their veins are poetry,
and love, when they die, they don't die.
Gods are gods because they remain.
That's why they don't bleed, like we do when
the midnight sun is half a year away, and it's time to sleep but
we forgot to put out the fire (again)
when we've torn all our enemies and they have torn us,
when it's just us;
when the moon turns and the tides turn with it,
who wants to be a god, anyway.
Love and Loss and EntropyAfter a long and spirited performance, the Composer eased into his denouement, for it was time to end the universe so that his adoring audience could head home. With the dazzling supernovae receding into infinitely massive voids, the dark gases cooled to just a few Kelvin above absolute zero, and the final wisps of solid matter degraded. His crowd stared in absolute captivation from the observation goo, their temporary joint consciousness absorbing every detail from every perspective. The Composer had them.Love and Loss and Entropy2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Some wept. Others breathed so rarely they might have been dying. A few retained their composure, but behind a mask of entertained stoicism they too could feel the melancholy of an entire universe dying before them. Even the Composer’s eyes were wet by the time he could finally turn around to the pinkish goo and bow to uproarious applause. Hundreds of times he had done this particular piece, and he would do it hundreds more, but it would never lose its hold on him.
He left the
EpicPersephone ate six seeds, and fell from grace -Epic1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I eat a punnet with impunity, 42 calories full,
And ponder on the loss of legend, whilst
Reading Wikiwisdom on that ancient fruit;
Oh, how far we have come.
The muse is a female form no more
But flickers in light emitting diodes
Dancing dull upon a solid screen -
The wonders of Helicon documented
In footnotes on a summary page.
pygmalionthe day i realized i was in love with you,pygmalion2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i drank myself into a stupor—
awaking, the next morning
in the alley next to your house
i dragged myself home fitful, restless
and when i arrived:
ripped my charcoal drawings into a million pieces,
let your face scatter all along the seine
erased your name from my walls
but not from my thoughts or my heart
for the oil painting, a special demise:
all slashed across,
hard and bloody
paint-stained fingers stinging,
then thrown from the window
i imagined it vividly.
shreds of canvas swirling into the sewers,
wood frame shattering, splintering
until there was nothing left of you
of your face
and of my hopeless feelings.
but imagination is not the same as reality—
just like my faith in you
the canvas lay crumpled and beaten,
on the wet cobblestones.
Silly Little PoemLoveSilly Little Poem2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Is like a fine strand
Just don't try to pull
An eighteen wheeler.
Women Shouldn't WriteWomen shouldn’t write.Women Shouldn't Write2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
because their fingers are better equipped
for picking flowers
and caressing newborn cheeks.
Women shouldn’t write
because they have nothing to write about
other than being a woman,
and no one wants to read that.
Women shouldn’t write
to distract themselves
from the chores and cooking
Women shouldn’t write
as an emotional release,
because everyone knows women
are too emotional already.
Women shouldn’t write
something terrifyingly beautiful
that might convince men
they can be geniuses, too.
she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friendsthe first time I see her in months,she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friends2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she still hugs me like i’m the only thing
keeping her world up.
i remember a time when this was true.
we do not talk about anything we used to—
those things have become taboo,
almost while our heads were turned away.
subjects are now landmines, with us tiptoeing around them,
me in my beat up converse and her in her sky-high stilettos.
we do not talk about how she did not say goodbye.
we do not talk about her old-new-old-old-gone boyfriend.
we don’t mention any new holes in my heart
or any new episodes of a now cancelled television show.
we do not talk about the new kid who looks like her
and we don’t talk about the school of new kids she looks at every morning.
i do not tell her that i have written seventeen poems about her
because she does not understand my way of letting go.
i do not tell her that it is close to October
and i have stopped marking off days on my calendar
and today i haven’t eaten any food
but i doubt sh
The EscapistIt is really insomniaThe Escapist2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If you're keeping me awake?
Is it the infatuation
That made me start to shake?
Is it so peculiar
If you make me feel brand new?
Is it some kind of obsession
That I have with you?
I watch you when I feel lonely
Is that so wrong?
I think of you when they hurt me
So what if that's all day long?
You make me feel so happy
What if that's all I have?
Should that be taken away
Just because it sounds mad?
Because right now in real life
There's no happily ever after
When I see something I don't like
I can't just skip the chapter
Or quickly press fast forward
On a TV remote control
Real life is but a wound
And you help fill the hole
So keep me in the trance
That you put me in before
You'll be my sweet romance
I won't need anything more
Even though we haven't met
You'll be the one that I adore
And I know you're not a threat
So I can't be hurt anymore
the god-turtle carries four elephantsstop asking methe god-turtle carries four elephants2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is not a time for breathing
this is not now, it is not
this is one second after
one minute after
one moment after
one minute after one
this is ad nauseum and i
don't ask me to breathe
are too heavy
to breathe through
symptoms of red a materialistsymptoms of red2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
inside of you
unknitting your sweater
& in your dream
you are a wolf eating
a flower in an orange field. the world
is ending. an unnamed girl stains you
as if she were tea
giving up to a
she writes a story: the unrequited
blurry visions of two visionaries
BBC Sherlock: Take my love, take my land...John walked slowly through the cemetery, thinking how lifeless the world looked today. The sky was ashen, painted in a dull, homogeneous shade of grey. There were no sounds, no birds chirping, no beeping of horns, nothing. Only John's steady footsteps on a gravel path were resonating in the absolute silence of the necropolis. The air seemed stale and heavy like in a room that hadn't been opened for years. No trace of wind among the graphite leaves, no gentle blows to ease the pain and chase away all the undesirable thoughts. John wished it was raining. Or storming. It's always easier when the sky at least pretends to weep with you. Instead, the whole place seemed to be wrapped in a shroud, waiting apathetically for its funeral.BBC Sherlock: Take my love, take my land...3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John finally stopped and tried to shake off his melancholic observations, knowing how irrational they were. Sherlock would probably have a field day if he only knew. If.
"It's been three years already, " said John thoughtfully, staring at the tombstone adorned
Hello and GoodbyeHello and Goodbye 7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is this loneliness
it cannot be described
Having it all ?
there will always be this emptiness
this hole in your heart and soul
And you already gave up
You used to remember him
the time you played in the garden as he planted daisies and sunflowers
the time you tried to help him fix something, a smile on your oil greased cheeks
he was your hero
he showed care
But those memories fade as time pass
the clouds grow darker and all the flowers die
now the toys crawl with spider webs
melting away with that yellow sun dress
with scars covering our arms
and heartaches that never go away
The pain never fades
only the sweet memories do...
until there is none left
All that is left now is a
and a glare
and sigh when you enter the room
where has he gone ?
he has no soul
Surprise Death"I'd just like to say that-"Surprise Death2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Jay's WayI love flannel against my skinJay's Way4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And shorts below the knee
Wrap around shades
My cap turned back
Nothing too fancy
What you see is what you get
I don't do drama
No sick little games
If the haters want to hate
I say let them have it their way
Because we know how to do this
So crack open a beer
I'll fire up the grill
We'll smoke some ribs
And if I say turn it up
Please don't be shy
The Kottonmouth Kings
Really do it right
And to all you sexy outspoken females
Tattooed in Ed Hardy and Japanese style ink
Wearing your tank tops
And sporting those belly button rings
Just come as you are
No heavy boots weighing down
George Killian's all around
From the top shelf
Is where I drink from
With puzzling adults
And telling stupid jokes
This is my way
Jay's way if you please
You're all invited
The party starts at three
AliensThey have no notion of past or present,Aliens4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
everything is about oceans.
When they ask for you
it is really a story about seeing the ocean.
Listen. It is failure of bridges that builds angels.
GROCERY BAGGER/ COLLEGE STUDENT:
Is this the depression
we've all been experiencing?
Please have a seat and forget the edge of that coast,
you were not intended for this distance.
GROCERY BAGGER/ COLLEGE STUDENT:
I believe we're all owed an explanation.
Where is this manifest?
I've never ridden a horse, I am being dreamed about.
You would not believe
the stories redwoods have.
You each get one phone call.
GROCERY BAGGER/ COLLEGE STUDENT:
But the voicemail I've been trying to reach,
"I dream of psychiatrists telling stories
about dreaming of women
they've seen in unedited videos on the internet.
Sometimes they save her from that burning nightclub."
If you're going, leave your voice
somewhere in a room I know.
AnymoreI never think about time any more,Anymore2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
since I left it pressed between the pages
of an old, half-read book,
making it dry as the smile that ever-haunts my lips,
lacking the life that even the lifeless
never truly leave behind.
HomosexualityHomosexuality9 years ago in Editorial More Like This
If God created all, and loves all, why are homosexual people frowned upon? Homosexuality is not a choice or rebellion, its just the way a person is. Homosexuality is supposedly determined before birth. They are not different in any way or form; they can have long-term relationships and be caring parents, no matter what the popular beliefs may be. They can obey laws and be good citizens, but despite this, gay men and lesbians are being fired from jobs, kicked out of homes, fighting for the right to get married, being told that they cannot see their children, and being taunted endlessly, unfairly.
Homophobia and the issue of gay marriage. Whenever I ask about these things, it always goes back to the bible. The Bible frowns upon it. It is a sin. But, according to the bible, it is also sinning to masturbate, use birth control, have sex during menstruation and naming sexual organs. It frowns equally upon women's rights, eating meat, divorce, and consuming alcohol, while it condones sex with
The Most Beautiful LessonI am laying on my back,The Most Beautiful Lesson1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a white figure lost in a white carpet.
Saoirse Ronan on the television,
whispering through my headphones...
and I am trying to imagine
something so beautiful that my brain
can't fill in the gaps,
cannot paint the portrait and
there are a million things I'm dying to know,
aching to learn; Teach me.
I want to discover
the way your ivory flesh reveals itself
as your shirt slides up your arms,
over your shoulders.
I want to see
how your mahogany curls cascade down
as the cloth is pulled over your head,
how they frame the porcelain shore
of your bare shoulders,
so dark against your supple white neck.
I need to know
the way your amber eyes cradle the light,
what unknown shade of red
will rise up in your cheeks
as the thin straps of your bra descend
at the urging of my fingertips,
by a soft trail
blazed by my warm lips.
I ache to learn
where you place your hands
when my tongue
writes poetry down your stomach...
Perhaps your fingers
will get l
A Pile of Exiled LeavesLook:A Pile of Exiled Leaves2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
under their father's roots,
oven-baked by progress
they stare at the stars,
ponder over their photosyn thesis'
and wonder where they'll land next.
Dry veins bringing
drought to the cuticle,
the rivers sprawling
like cobwebbed fingers
scratching cellulose into
eczema of the upper epidermis,
dirt-ink sketches bleeding softly
to the frayed edge of
where Death took his scissors
and cut oblong hearts
from Life and into
the frigid air.
curled up in amber wrinkles,
a million Queens of Spades
who played dead for too long.