The Heartbeat Through SmokeThe Heartbeat Through Smoke6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You inflict it each step of the way,
Your self-abstaining compromise
Is drawn to the gilled, and replaced by pain,
You fill the harbor,
The sanity of your mind with adrenaline
You slip through the rapture
As if nothing could be so calm among such grace.
Theres a sudden slip,
A cause to be alarmed,
A motionless blur
Surrounding irrational thoughts,
I cradled my heart by my side
As it pulsated life in and out of perception
You remember the stillness, you felt in rain
Brushing the altars of dust,
And ashes from lives no one could reach again.
The heartbeat through smoke
Through the silent calming afterlife of no one- and no love.
... ... ...
But you wanted the disaster,
You wanted the fear to dissolve
In no one else's skin but your own
You adored how no one could reach you
To every last ounce of strength you had in people to love...
You wanted no other -pain,
Nothing more than the sigh of relief
In their hearts would make yo
EvacuationI still remember the news stories that appeared on the television. A lot of people, a lot of 'specialists', made outrageous claims as to how to survive this pandemic: "Go north," they would say; "Go to your church. They can't go there," some had said; "Every man for himself. Trust no one," one had said; "Stop going outside and wait for the military to clean this mess up in a week," a few would say. Well, at least that last one had some truth to it.Evacuation6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Two of the options the government had laid forth to people were to either board up your home or head to the nearest emergency evacuation center. The latter is what I chose to do.
I lived in an apartment complex at the time. It was one of five white three-story buildings in the Creekside Apartment complex. I just had a single bedroom apartment. It was really cheap; just $200 for the one bed, kitchen, living room, and dining room apartment. I was single at the time and had only been living there for a few months.
We were allowed to bring one b
Tides of Earth and SkyTides of Earth and Sky3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And the ache of soul carried the torch of dreams into the sky
Upon scent of mortal thirst destiny whispered in myriad
rapture of folding tides..
Lo the mythic shore, where I — a phantasm of love bleeds
into the ether of velvet sky & ocean hymn...
Lost in the wine of omni-dreaming, for our passion tis but
the humble audience of eternity
In jeweled horizons the Goddess feasts; her gaze I cannot flee
I have crossed oceans of time & drank the song of worlds
My spirit forever slain in the beauty of her immortal sea
— Arthur Crow © 2012
HeadacheMy problem is a headacheHeadache3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, not a headache; an explosion inside my brain
A wailing, a crying, a lost soul's screams of despair
A jackhammer serenade, a machine gun sonata
Black canvases painted in a frenzy by a madwoman
Darkness at noon, dreams flying by in fast-forward
Crippled children trying to run from a sharp-toothed monster
Confusion of languages, religions, philosophies, all idiot blather
Chainsaw grinding of bone, packs of mad dogs yowling and howling
You see, don't you?
My problem is a headache
EqualityTwelve-o-five AM. A crashed car on the north side of town, a woman without her medicine on the south side.Equality3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The two were as different as two people could be. Charles was young, white, wealthy, healthy. Carmen was old, black, poor, ill.
When I wheeled them down to the morgue, they were equals. Nothing else mattered but that they were human, and those they left behind were equal in their grief. Two families were not going to sleep tonight.
I had to wonder, how many people are equal with me in their hatred of their job?
GoldenI am;Golden3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I glisten and gleam,
With the wind.
I am golden;
Birds hush when I sing
The world stops
When I dream
I am golden.
Noel of IronyNoel of Irony4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Noel, noel, noel...
Of what meaning could this holy day hold for me?
Nothing. It was merely a day, a day marked as any other day.It meant nothing to me.
The day would pass the very same. Isolated below in this unreachable place I claim years ago as sanctuary. My sanctuary was my prison as well, with society being my jail keeper. I could not venture outside as others. No, if such a brazen act was committed, I surely would be captured and be kept in chains in a cage as the freak I am.
This holy day, people kept it by intoxication and hungering like dogs fro favors and trinkets of all sorts. Quite good of them to remember Christ's birth by ignoring the least of these, and gorging on the choicest of morsels, while donning on excess of clothing, then stumbling in their stupor to a church and feigning such ludicrous piety, muttering memorized prayers like the drone of a mill.
On the other side of society, people huddled in shacks comprised of remnants of planks ad rags, their substanc
SunSun rises in quiet anger, blazing, sharp-splinteredSun3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Moving through the autumn trees, setting them afire
I awake to a shorter day than last week, and know well
why the sun is so angry
So am I.
An uncashed check lies on the table near my coffee
The cars on the street below pass with unneeded headlights
The autumn wreathes she made catch the light on the walls
Time is short, they testify
So well I know.
Blaze on, you son-of-a-bitch, you never get enough
You'll burn long after I'm gone and that's fine with me
I'll be on the moon in the quiet starlight drinking beer
Holding her close to me
Still and free.
A FuneralThe girls wore death masks and long white robes, trimmed in gold. The masks were white, painted with designs and gold sparkles. They carried a white coffin, bent not with its weight but with their grief. Down to the river, beneath the willows, to a hole dug in the soft earth. That's where they buried their sister, that sorrowful day in June. That day that wanted to rain, but didn't; not until she was safe in the ground.A Funeral3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Four elements, four seasons, but now only seven sisters. The rain began, and lasted seven days. Everyone in the land had vivid, disturbing dreams for seven months. It drove some of the more fragile insane. It affected the work of all. Things taken for granted, like the seasons coming in order, became strange and unpredictable. All because of an event they knew nothing of, a funeral they never attended.
It went on for seven years, until the birth of a new sister. Not a mortal soul knew why.
SkilletFatdrips from my fingertips and frizzles in the panSkillet3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Going to an alley soon to meet a man called Shady Dan
If my manic depression's in control I might dig a hole
In my backyard somewhere to bury freckles, warts and moles
Loose as a goose and ten feet tall the clouds float past my eyes
Shaken to my roots but I don't have the ducts to cry
I dropped them off in some old shop somewhere to be repaired
Now I can't find my way back even if I wanted to go there
Brimming with suspicion the fat neighbors glare in synch
The free-range monkeys pull and tug and bring me to the brink
Of having what I used to have but can't find anymore
Before I started yodeling and opened all those doors
The doors that open up to rooms with doors and then more doors
Until I'm tired from traveling nowhere and become more than bored
Even killer clowns in a drive-by spree can't wake me from my dream
And so I go to sleep in stasis and forget about every-anything
The Wooly SweaterThe wooly sweater was made of thin red, brown and gold threads. It was on a mannequin in the attic, with empty birdcages, boxes of shoes and old books and magazines. The mannequin wasn't one of those dress-makers types, but had come from a storefront somewhere. The sweater was all she wore, and it looked a little obscene. I named her Cancer, for her lack of hair. Sometimes she would sing, softly, but loud enough for me to hear from my bedroom. Sometimes I'd go up and sing with her. At some point we began talking, telling each other stories from our respective worlds. She told me of the things she'd seen while standing in the storefront, strange things, things that regular people like myself missed. I guess she thought my stories strange as well, of growing up and moving about on my own. She wanted to be able to do that. To walk, to move through the crowds, to experience life as I knew it.The Wooly Sweater3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"But you don't feel pain", I said. "You stand on your feet forever and never tire. You're the one
Do Not CryDo not stand at my grave and weep:Do Not Cry5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly fallen snow;
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the field of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the grateful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
So do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.
HeartI left my face in the parking lot, and flies carried it away. Standing faceless in my bedroom, I tried to think about sweet things besides you. I dusted off my glasses and looked hard into my heart, but it was as empty as the cobwebbed cupboard. Fry me up some feeling, let me drink some emotion; I'm dry as the proverbial bone, and looking for salvation. I never gave you a ring. The narrow path is closed now, and I've no other way through. Give me something that I cannot get for myself. Give me enlightenment, or at least hope. Stanly came knocking on the door, as faceless as I. We couldn't speak, but garbled to each other for a bit about shoes and horses and loss. I was glad when he left. My heart couldn't hold out much longer. It wants, it wants, it wants.Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
RammsteinThe skies were grey and cloudy, filled with squawking birds of all manner. I opened the door to the refrigerator I was living in and climbed out to greet the evening. Lightning struck here and there, and the wind made noises like a soldier dying from a stomach wound. I searched for Honeypot among the junkyard debris, and finally found her lying covered by a large piece of tin roof.Rammstein3 years ago in Sketches More Like This
"How are you this lovely evening, my Pumpkin?" I asked.
"Peachy as a pickled pepper in a jar, my Bug-a-loo".
"Well, let us take advantage of this fine night and take out the old Rammstein and bounce around a bit."
And we did.
LesbianGod loved the two girls at the end of my street.Lesbian4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everywhere they went, they went together,
hand-in-hand so they didn't get lost,
laughing at everything and nothing
all at once.
He was so proud of them.
They never stole, they never swore,
they brushed their teeth twice a day
and always said their prayers.
It was a gift, said the townspeople,
that two girls as perfect as they were
were born in the same place.
an even greater gift, said they,
that those two were the best of friends.
Long nights spent giggling in rooms with closed doors
was a good thing, back then.
halfway between their houses
and in the middle of the street,
they realized that they loved each other.
A gaze lingered a moment too long,
a heart beat a little too fast...
They kissed for the first time on a park bench,
hidden from the rest of the world.
God doesn't love them anymore.
Old BoysOld Boys3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Riding down country roads
to local farms on a Saturday
with my granddad
to see equipment auctions
as the old boys cashed in
Standing there in bib overalls or Dickies
with their dark glasses on
smoking pipes and cigars
they'd talk politics or crops
their deep voices rumbling quietly
I was enthralled...listening to the auctioneer
rattle off prices at breakneck speed
for a Farmall tractor going once
Sold to the man in front...
Or grandpa would take me with him
to the local VFW Post 6464
on Thursday evenings
to play Euchre with his friends
I'd bring along a few dog-eared
Reader's Digest magazines to read
as they played
Every so often I would walk over and
say hi, see how grandpa was faring
Usually he was cleaning house
winning almost every hand he played in
The ladies would bring a cake
and we'd have that with coffee
It felt...comfortable in a way
I find hard to explain
Sitting there surrounded by veterans
men who still wore those black-rimmed glasses
and their hair was
Elf vs. Orc 7This was easier said than done.Elf vs. Orc 79 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She gave him some very practical suggestions about how to tie the ropes. A bit of slack between the feet, enough to shuffle, not enough to run. A rope around the neck as a kind of leash in case she attacked him. He could tell she'd done this sort of thing before.
Sings-to-Trees, at that point, would have been happy just untying her completely and pointing her in the direction of the outhouse, but he had a horrible feeling he'd disappoint her if he didn't at least try to hold up his end. So he steeled himself to stay awake a bit longer and got the ropes set up, and hauled her out of the bed.
Then she wound up needing to use him as a crutch anyway, since her knees kept buckling, so it was a bit of a moot point.
"Can you hold this?" he asked, handing her the leash rope after a few brutal hops toward the door.
"What if I try to escape?"
He sighed. "Just yank it if you feel yourself getting any ideas."
She started laughing, then they took another step and the
Moonlight KayakingDrip.Moonlight Kayaking3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You kayak in the moonlight
Black sparkling water
Smooth and easy
I dream of you as the liquid
in my IV slowly drips
My fevered imagination speaks to the moon
And is answered in a strange language
Waves of silence turn slowly
I see you from the shore
Reach out to you
But you're too far away
The swarming stars are friendly
And tell me there'll be another time
For moonlight kayaking
Recollections, Pt. I The sky glared upon Liberty with black spite. Followed up by this deranged rage, the wind growled in anger, making the torrents of vicious rain even more forceful.Recollections, Pt. I8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
In the back alleys of this city, the darkness was impassable, yet still subject to the fury of nature. Water flooded down from the rooftops of the tall irken buildings, drenching the alleyway to a near flood. Outside this alleyway, irkens scurried along to leave the rain and enter the safety of a synthetic environment.
A small irken, barely larger than a smeet, hid within the darkness. He pulled at some objects he couldn't even see in an attempt to find something to protect him from the violent rain, but to no avail.
Chad had ran for what felt to him like hours. His little legs carried him from alleyway to alleyway in search of shelter. He had run out of stamina, and his breaths were heavy, but hardly relieved the burning pressure he felt in his chest. The rain masked the tears that streamed down his face
Elf vs. Orc 2Celadon Toadstool was delirious.Elf vs. Orc 29 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The funny bit—uproariously funny, it seemed to her—was that she knew she was delirious. The world was billowing around her. It looked as if someone had meticulously painted the inside of a cottage on silk, and then hung it in a gentle breeze. The corners floated inward and collapsed back out again with a sigh.
That someone would go to all that trouble, painting a cottage on silk, was hilarious.
She knew she was wounded. She couldn't quite remember how she'd been wounded. Imagine not remembering a thing like that!
This also struck her as hilarious.
Her name, in Orcish, was Urrsharruk-gah, and she had skin the delicate gray-green of the gills of cave mushrooms, and eyes the color of stolen gold. Her hair was thick and dark and she wore it tucked under her helmet to keep enemies from being able to grab it, which was problematic, because she'd lost her helmet somewhere along the way, and she wasn't in the best of shape anyway.
Even in her immense good humor
What If We Were Poets?Do you ever wonder what it's like to come face-to-faceWhat If We Were Poets?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the planets? To curl your fingers in the air without
meeting thousands of plaster ceilings? What if I showed you
how to cross Saturn's rings, inhale the atmosphere of Venus?
You would enter the Earth (and it's a strange place to call home,
really) with ice crystals at the corners of your mouth and ash
clouds stuck to the insides of your fingernails. Let me tell you,
it's a beginner's worry that you'll burn up in the atmosphere,
but I've had helium and hydrogen daubed on the base of my tongue.
Oh, and do you ever brush past the windows on train carriages
and wonder what cornfields are like when they're your sky
and your Earth's crust? What if I took you to the white cliffs
of somewhere or other and taught you how to spread your wings
and not hit the ground? What if I showed you mazes, and became
the red threads around your thumbs? If you'll just trust me, I'll let you
see that getting lost should only worry you in jungles of co
OminousRattly-bones and stale beer kissesOminous3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Out on the highway where the lines are faded
Headed west with the crawling snakes
And flashes of lightning in the sundown sky
Away from the smoky blue saxophones east
Into the red-hot screams of slithered guitars
Dice on the mirror for a lucky stroke seal
Revolution in the trunk with the tireiron
Two of us shadowed by the moon in metal
Dead-on hungry for the end of the line
Pass that joint and pop a top for me, lamb
The clocks are in the rearview, aheads open wide