Why is There a God?Why is there a God?Why is There a God?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What makes Him there?
Why is he powerful?
Why does he care?
What if God is evil,
Everything bad you see?
With all the evil here,
It's not far-fetched to me.
What if God is weak,
And just trying his best?
Every bit of evil,
Is him failing his test.
What if God is lonely,
And wishes he could talk?
Envies the humans,
That on Earth walk.
What if God is uncaring,
More important things to do?
He isn't at all worried,
What happens to you.
What if God is overwhelmed,
With everything he knows?
He tries to block it out,
Ignoring where it goes.
What if God is sleeping,
And will wake up late?
Soon he'll realize,
This effect on fate.
What if God is focused,
And can't see the world?
Too busy helping,
The praying little girl.
What if God isn't real,
And your religion is fake?
I have to wonder,
What difference it would make.
AfterthoughtAfterthoughtAfterthought2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It surprises me when people remember to acknowledge my existence,
But just ‘cause I don’t expect people to remember me,
Doesn’t mean it feels any less worse when I’m forgotten.
That’s just me though, an afterthought; great for a few months until I’m no longer a necessity.
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!
It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of imaginations from its evolutions into the Eleusinian mysteries of Ancient Greece, to the paintings of Victorian Europe, to today, each with their own distinctive takes and emphases on the story. Perhaps it is the fact that we know so little about the original tale of Persephone the daughter of Demeter, goddess of fertility, snatched
Elegon FairytaleThe water was lonely. It ran from river to river, ocean to ocean, alone. Many of the creatures that lived in the water paid it no mind, continuing on with their own life, unaware of the water's. The water decided one day to make itself some companions, someone to flow and keep company with. The water watched many humans at its rivers and oceans and created, what the water called, Ulas based off of the females. Some were made of water while others were made of scales and flesh. The Ulas made the rain and took care of the sea and river life during the day, while they played all night.Elegon Fairytale3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One night, the air passed by the river and saw the Ulas playing and dancing along the water. The air suddenly felt lonely, just as the water had. It blew through the lands all alone and decided that it could use companions as well. The wind called them Auras. The air, like the water, designed them as female humans made of air and flowing dresses. The Auras traveled with the wind and their domain was the sky
Shadow of the Colossus poemHear this the tale of a lost soulShadow of the Colossus poem2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Long live he, the Wanderer and his steed Arbhach
For they ventured past the transcending bridge
Into the valley of the shadow of the colossi
Entered he the halls of stone, and bartered with Dormin
"Pledge thee, in return for thine bidding, the maiden's life shall be returned"
And Dormin spoke
"Verily, it shalt be done. But the price to pay shall be heavy"
By Dormin's command he pledged to vanquish
The sixteen gods of stone
In the hopes that his maiden's life
A promise only possible in the Valley of the Shadow of the Colossi
With Arbhach his steed, and siúinéir solais his sword,
And love strengthening his will
He ventured and fought these God's of Stone
Attacking at the mharc ar an clocha Dia
But the price was heavy indeed
For these sixteen were portions of a single whole
But the Wanderer knew not
Aye, that Dormin once was a Damned God
Overwhelmed by the Wanderer's Clan
Shattered into sixteen pieces
He was spread to the eight e
Mind VomitI pixelate IcarusMind Vomit7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to forfeit my counterproductivity.
Who needs rose tinted glasses
when you have
glazed eyes enamelled sighs
and sugarcoated insomnia.
I long for movie tomorrows
instead of these
xylophonic beclazone dreams.
I want to saturate the grey matter
without a hint of remorse.
I want to play the undersleeper,
pinning back my eyelids with
the idiolect of those I'd like to know better.
Do you want to hear my mind vomit or should I
just turn the page and start again...?
three ways to fall aparti.three ways to fall apart10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
we were seventeen
when you promised me that
this tiny dustbowl of
a southern town was not going to be
everything my life was made of.
it wasn't hard to believe
because the maps you'd spread across
your ceiling never lied (since you claimed
it was easier to dream when they
were stuck above you
in the night).
i remember the lines you'd drawn
in a felt pen, red because it seemed important,
seemed louder than the rest, and
i remember how you
would trace the roads with your eyes until you
fell asleep. you had a knack for
memorizing every escape route, and when i asked why
you answered that it was because one day you
would have to run.
when i asked if i could fly away with you
you said yes, and that night i dreamt
of runaways and falling stars. i never was sure
if they were supposed to mean something bigger than us.
sometimes when i lie awake at night
i wonder now how far we might
have gotten if we ever left, if we had jumped into
your old impala and left the road behind us -
Fairy Ring!I found fairy ring todayFairy Ring!3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Eerie place for midnight play
Glow worms sit on magic leaves
Stage is set, time to believe.
Audience ready, moonless night
Creatures wait to see this sight
Wings flutter, sound like bees
Descend beneath guarding trees.
Into fairy ring they sweep
Beautiful dancing, soul could weep
Glow worms fall slowly to the ground
Dying light, made no sound.
Fairy music does not last long
Just like twilight come and gone
Look with care you might see
Fairies sparkling hilarity.
A Piece of MeA rayA Piece of Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
White Ballet ShoesEveryone watchWhite Ballet Shoes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She dances in the meadows
Sweet, white ballet shoes
.i feel change, the way.2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the birdsong changes when the
cat goes out for lunch
a vespertine hauntingi was once six years olda vespertine haunting2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and i was once cradled
in the tired arms of a
who could only cry
and she'd call sometimes,
"Cass," she'd say,
"baby, i've been drinking again
and your father left -
baby, he left and i can't find him."
i'd put her books away then
and try to find the pills
she never wanted to take.
"do you think he's hiding, Cassandra?"
"no," i'd say, and tie her hands;
i was so much more
of my father than i would have liked
to be, "he told me you need these."
"oh no i don't, baby."
"yes, Mama you do."
goes the goddamned weasel,
just in her
it was silent in my room and silent
when she slept
but i was only six and the world
made less sense
to my squinted eyes and
disoriented speech because
the night was her haven -
i was her haven -
she screamed and turned
enough to make the earth's
rotation seem slower
and hours get longer
and the tick drag
fucking tock seemed more
and more interminable
than the f
a coward.silly little girl.a coward.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she broke her own heart trying not to love him.
The Boy With Oceans In His EyesThere was a time when she leftThe Boy With Oceans In His Eyes11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That everyone knew you still loved her,
because upon each word
Sat a pinched note of longing.
And though the memories skewed your face
Your eyes still sparkled
When you felt her name on your tongue,
and your hands still twitched
When you thought of her fingers within yours.
There was a time-
When you realized she was never coming back,
and everyone knew you were broken,
because tears gnawed on your voice,
When your words were not screams.
And the memories contorted your features
As your eyes filled with rage,
because her name brought nothing but hurt,
and your stomach ached
In the places her hands had once roamed.
There was a time when you stopped leaving home
When everyone knew you needed us,
but no one knew how to help,
because we never heard your voice anymore,
For you were tired of screaming.
And your eyes were dull and full of a hate that we hadn't realized was there;
Your skin was a fire on the bed you never left,
and at night
HateIt was born with youHate1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and with you
It broke me in two
then assembled me
.when her love left, it left.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the house empty
and she says
i hope one day it'll
come back to me,
cos i don't keep this shotgun
on my front porch for nothin'
hallucinationsheat waves don't caress youhallucinations10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like ocean breezes; they
like two-year old
on their bellies,
foaming flames at the mouth.
the only romantic thing
is how she seems to fly
like a mustang
across the sun-soaked
and into the kool-aid blue
she is eight again
and burned a scarlet red
and she's asking if I believe
heaven is in that bright,
while she floats on her
back in the devil's light
"darlin, heaven is where
ice tea is an arm's length
and somehow her quiet laughter
presses through the fog
of a vaporized mind
and somehow her smile relaxes
the choke of afternoons in July
and somehow we are in the
kool-aid blue sky
drinking ice tea with angels
here the sweat does not tickle,
does not sting,
but glistens on our brows
Maps Not Meant For FollowingI bet you missed me when I went away. "You’ll come back," you thought. When I didn’t you bit your lip, but you were sure I would make it with time. After the second day, and the day after that, the doubts started to creep in. You caught yourself sucking in a painful breath whenever you saw something of mine lying around. Bits of my life left with you would slither into your sight when you least expected it the same way the memories would swamp you if given the slightest chance.Maps Not Meant For Following1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When days turned into a week, you entered into a hush drunk state: eyes bleary and sore from holding back any semblance of emotion. You were quiet, but not calm. Your hands became tumultuous storms when you'd glance over at our picture, fingers becoming tidal waves as you would toss it onto the bed. You were tired, but not nearly tired enough to forget.
On its own, you would find your body shaking at the brush of your own fingers across your skin, a reminder of where I touched you last. And the
You always tell me the same storyHe's in love with a scene from the winterYou always tell me the same story2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that occurs on a trip to Washington,
when the dark is constant and the trees jog
like legends alongside the highway;
as his eyes fall half-sleep but his senses remain
taut and vigilant, sweating on the wheel,
pitching nerve to the sound of branches cracking,
bristling under his wind-torn jacket;
the time of evening when the sunset rests
at its very highest, bright and sudden as Heaven,
an aureate glow around the birdsongs,
the stench of roadkill muted by a golden frost;
a taste of nirvana,
an instruction of faith,
the blatant existence of God,
lost as soon as he rounds the bend.
.i would shed my skin.2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with autumn, but my veins would
crack like the dry leaves
post-conflagrationoh, darling, look at us;post-conflagration10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a crooked collection of
ashen-faced chaotic nobodies,
struggling to stand straight.
we used to burn so bright,
but we're just now learning
why no-one loves fireworks
after they've gone out.
Thrice DeniedIf you asked it of me;Thrice Denied1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I would take the stars,
and throw them to earth...
...so you could watch the cities burn.
I would paint the sky with blood;
and raze the mountains to dust...
...if you should so wish it.
I'll play God,
and like Peter, you can reject or accept.
While the rooster lies fallow;
and the incredulity shivers.
And yet, with all this destruction at my fingertips,
you ask me none of these things.
And I am left hanging from the universe by a thread frayed to the last filament.
Hanging onto existence by the mere proclamation of your love,
and the promise that I should fail...
...if only you would fall with me.