The Great Einstein"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction."The Great Einstein5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
"Imagination is more important than knowledge."
"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love."
"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."
"The only real valuable thing is intuition."
"A person starts to live only when he can live outside himself."
"God is subtle but he is not malicious."
"Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character."
"I never think of the future. It comes soon enough."
"The eternal mystery of the world is its comprehensibility."
"Sometimes one pays most for the things one gets for nothing."
"Science without religion is lame. Religion without science is blind."
"Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new."
"Great spirits have often encountered violent opposition from weak minds."
"Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simple
Gods in FleshDon't degrade my immortalityGods in Flesh4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Flesh I maybe
But capable of great things
Drenched in the blood of my past
It smeared the small of my back
Till I walked neck high
In unholy torment
Slay me but not my name
Celestial royalty I have my place
No hand has say in my path
I witness eons of struggle
With my mind devour
Dissect, produce, create
Inventor of the ages
Grow in spirit
Understanding will last my kin
Worship ourselves and outlast
Beings of light
Encased in flesh and time
Llamas With Hats: A PoemThere, through the doorLlamas With Hats: A Poem3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
There's a man on the floor
And what's more Carl is there
There's a dead human, I say
What has made him this way?
So I command that Carl explain
I've never seen him, says he
Until you showed him to me
I've seen him never before in my life
I ask Carl why he'd kill him
My tone of voice is quite grim
But murder is Carl's least favorite thing
I demand again he explain
And with his expression unchanged
Carl denies all my claims, he'd been busy
He'd been in his room reading The Great Gatsby
And this man barged inside without asking
I am shocked when Carl finally says
"And I, uh I stabbed him 37 times in the chest."
Caaaaaaaarl, I cry
Why'd you make this man die?
But then I notice something is gone
Carl, I venture, his hands
What's that, he says, come again?
His hands, Carl, why are they missing?
He looks from me to the ground
Out of recognition does he make a sound
Eyes on me, he smiles and says
"Well I, uh, I sort of cooked them up. And ate
Llamas with HatsLlamas with HatsLlamas with Hats3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Paul: Carl, there's a dead human in our house!
Carl: Ooh, hey, how did he get here?
Paul: Caaaarl, what did you do?
Carl: Me? Um, I didn't do this...
Paul: Explain what happened Carl!
Carl: I've never seen em' before in my life.
Paul: Why did you kill this person Carl?
Carl: I do not kill people, That is, That is my Least favorite thing to do.
Paul: Tell me Carl, exactly what you were doing before I got home.
Carl: Well, I was upstairs...
Paul: Mhm, okay...
Carl: I was in my room, reading a book...
Paul: Yes,go on...
Carl: and well this guy walked in...
Carl: So I went up to him...
Carl: and I, uh, I stabbed him thirty-seven times in the chest.
Paul: Caaaaaaaaaarl, that kills people!
Carl: Um, oh, I Didn't know that...
Paul: Carl, how could you not know that?
Carl: Yeah, I'm in the wrong here, I suck.
Paul: What happened to his hands?
Carl: Whats that?
Paul: His hands, W-Why are they missing?
Carl: U-Uh, I, um... Kinda cooke
What an Irishman is...The utterly impractical, never predictable,What an Irishman is...7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.
Strange blend of shyness,
pride and conceit,
And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.
He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight,
Yet the smile of a child
fills his soul with delight.
His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears,
Yet his strength is the strongest
to banish your fears.
His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand,
And there is no middle ground
on which he will stand.
He's wild and he's gentle,
he's good and he's bad.
He's proud and he's humble,
he's happy and sad.
He's in love with the ocean,
the earth and the skies,
He's a lover of beauty wherever it lies.
He's victor and victim, a star and a churl,
But mostly he's Irish—
in love with his girl.
Rudi und RudineRudi und Rudine2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Es war einmal ein junger Bauer aus Talamh Súil Ghlas mit Namen Celynn Rudi. Rudi war ein Tollpatsch, der stets die kleinste Ernte einfuhr und von seiner Familie und den anderen Bauern liebevoll Pechrudi genannt wurde. Doch er war ein herzensguter Mensch und alle mochten ihn.
Es gab ein Mädchen, das Rudi mochte und er wusste, dass sie ihn ebenfalls sehr gern hatte. Sie hieß Rudine Cíepa und war die Tochter eines Händlers, der an mehreren Tagen im Jahr nach Talamh kam, um dort mit den Bauern Handel zu treiben. Seine Tochter begleitete ihn dabei und so waren sie sich zum ersten Mal begegnet. Seit vier Jahren hatten sie nun eine heimliche Beziehung, jetzt, da Rudine endlich volljährig war, wollte Rudi ihren Vater um ihre Hand bitten.
Es war an ihrem Geburtstag, als Familie Cíepa das nächste Mal nach Talamh kam und es war der Tag, an dem Rudi zum ersten Mal mit dem Vater seiner Angebeteten sprach. Der jedoch hatte davon gehört, dass Rudi nichts g
AlleinDer volle Mond war verdeckt von den Wolkenkratzern der Großstadt, nur die Sterne beleuchteten die winzige Sackgasse. Ängstlich stand die junge Frau vor der schwarzen Wand und starrte zu der ungepflegten Gestalt, die sie in die Gasse gedrängt hatte. Die Frau war hübsch, auch jetzt, als sie kurz vor einer Panikattacke stand. Das dunkelgraue Kostüm verschmolz mit der Umgebung, nur das kalkweiße Gesicht und die kurzen, goldblonden Haare hoben sich davon ab.Allein3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Nach einer scheinbar unendlich langen Zeit fragte sie mit zitternder Stimme:
Was was was wollen Sie von mir?"
Der Bettler lächelte, sagte aber nichts.
Wollen Sie Geld? Sie Sie können alles haben."
Mit bebenden Fingern wollte sie in ihre Tasche greifen, doch sie hatte ihre Hände nicht unter Kontrolle und schüttete so den Inhalt der Tasche auf das Kopfsteinpflaster.
Noch immer lächelte der Bettler. Dann sagte er mit einer rauen, vom Alkohol gepräg
Brief an die EinsamkeitViel gesehene Einsamkeit,Brief an die Einsamkeit4 years ago in Letters More Like This
Ich bitte Sie hiermit inständig darum, jeglichen Kontakt mit mir abzubrechen.Bedauerlicherweise muss ich Sie darauf aufmerksam machen, dass Ihre Person bei mir auf flächendeckende Abneigung trifft. Ihre Anwesenheit in meinem Herzen ist daher nicht länger erwünscht. Weitere Aufenthalte von Ihnen an besagtem Ort werde ich nicht dulden.
In der Hoffnung, keine Antwort zu erhalten, verbleibe ich
mit freundlichen Grüßen,
Blutiger SchneeBlutiger SchneeBlutiger Schnee4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Wie in einem Märchen fiel der Schnee sanft auf die ohnehin schon weiße Landschaft und bedeckte sie mit einem Mantel des Vergessens. Es war Weihnachten und aus dem nahen Dorf hörte man die Stimmen der in der Kirche singenden Menschen.
Auch hier außerhalb des Dorfes sah es weihnachtlich aus, irgendjemand hatte eine riesige, allein stehende Tanne festlich geschmückt und daneben hatten Kinder eine ganze Schneemannfamilie gebaut.
Nachdenklich betrachtete ich die weihnachtliche Idylle, die wirkte wie zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhunderts. Mir war nicht feierlich zumute, zumal ich mit diesem Fest der Christen und Abergläubischen nichts anfangen konnte. Diese Tage verbrachte ich am liebsten irgendwo allein in der Wildnis.
Doch dieses Jahr war ich nicht allein. Ein Mann aus dem Dorf, das ich so lange gemieden hatte, stand bei mir und lauschte verzückt dem Chor.
Langsam musterte ich ihn, den fetten Bauch, den runden Kopf mit den zu we
Griffin Rider: First FlightThe morning broke as it always did in this part of the world, slowly at first as the sun fought to rise above the low rolling hills and then poured down upon the sheltered depressions between them. Caleb's eyes opened slowly as he yawned mightily, stretching out his stiff joints. He lifted himself from Bracken who crooned softly as he lifted his head out from under his wing, clicking his beak and warbling a good morning.Griffin Rider: First Flight1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Good morinng to ye as well." Caleb said gruffly as he turned to stroke Bracken's mane.
The griffin clicked his beak and began to preen himself, cleaning away the morning dew clinging to his feathers as Caleb brought out his feed. Bracken set about eating eagerly as Caleb checked over their gear. He didn't expect any of their companions to have taken anything but old habits died hard.
Caleb turned at Nil's voice to find the girl standing behind him smiling with her hands clasped behind her back.
"Good morning." he replied.
"Are you going to be flying th
Griffin Rider: A MeetingCaleb strode through the city gate, glancing at the guards who eyed him warily. He couldn't say that he blamed them. After all, a fully armed and armored rider and griffin were intimidating to say the least. Granted given that by nature of the fact that Bracken had to be able to fly with all the gear the armor was relatively light. Only the griffin's breastplate and skullcap were iron. The rest was hardened leather reinforced with bronze barding. His own armor was equally light. Consisting of hardened studded leather. Over the years of constant fighting he'd acquired a shirt of chain mail to wear beneath the leather and a scale mail vest to wear on the exterior. The triple layered armor wasn't the strongest thing he could've worn but it protected Caleb well enough. He wore leather chaps with inlaid chain mail and iron plates covering his thighs and shins. He wore a simple iron skullcap to protect his balding pate.Griffin Rider: A Meeting2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
At his waist rested the long sword which he'd drawn on the elf bitch the
Griffin Rider: Making CampTheir party made good progress that first day. Caleb had never worked closely with either of the taurian races, however he'd heard stories of their amazing stamina and much to his shame they exceeded even Bracken's steady and inexhaustible pace. The others of course rode with the wagon...except for the gnome who sometimes floated alongside it and at other times vanished all together only to reappear somewhere up ahead waiting for the group to arrive. The centaur in particular seemed to take great offense to Duulingknopf which seemed only to encourage the gnome to further acts of depravity. He even buzzed past Bracken once during the journey yelling: "DUUUUU!" as he flashed by. The poor griffin had jerked and hissed in agitation and it was all Caleb could do not to take a try with his sling at knocking the gnome from the air.Griffin Rider: Making Camp2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Thankfully the rest of the party was more tolerable. Ikras proved to have a musical side to him, producing a set of the pipes that his people were famous for and p
Griffin Rider: Planning an Ambush“You are sure of this?” Sheera asked with a scowl as she sat atop the wagon.Griffin Rider: Planning an Ambush1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“I'm standing here telling ye such aren't I?” Caleb replied gruffly.
Sheera frowned and pursed her lip in annoyance as she glanced at Nil. “I assume you saw them as well?”
Nil shifted uncomfortably under the wood elf's scrutiny. Caleb felt bad putting the girl on the spot but there was nothing for it.
“I'm not sure, I've never seen a bandit camp before, but they were heavily armed and hidden within a dell so they couldn't be seen from the High Way.”
Ikras looked towards Sheera dubiously. “It is possible, reports of banditry upon the High Way are not uncommon.”
Sheera sighed and turned, pulling up the flap for the wagon. “Ra'ma. Come.”
The nidracaal flowed out of the wagon, dropping to the ground and looking up at Sheera curiously with her shimmering yellow eyes.
Sheera glanced at Caleb. “How far down
Llamas with Hats Human AdaptedLlamas with Hats Human Adapted3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Carl, there's a dead human in our house!"
My best friend-and roommate-Carl, was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, which was odd, because Carl never did the chores.
He shuffled over and poked the dead body with his foot. "Oh...hey...how did he get here?" Blood was pooling on the floor, from multiple stab wounds in the dead man's chest.
His lying tone was obvious. I stared at him, alarmed. "Carl, what did you DO?!"
He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Me? I didn't do this."
"Explain what happened, Carl!" I said angrily. These kinds of things seemed to happen whenever I went out...
"I've never seen him before in my life!" Carl protested.
"Why did you kill this person, Carl?!"
"I do not kill people. That is..." he couldn't help glancing back towards the kitchen. "That is my LEAST favorite thing to do."
I sighed. "Carl, tell me exactly what you were doing before I got home."
He frowned and shifted
Floating on Air I watched the clouds as they went by, gliding on the air currents. They truly are a fascinating thing to look at. They can form the shapes of anything—a giraffe, anFloating on Air1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
airplane—and change to something completely different the next second. It was truly a
wondrous sight to gaze upon.
However I couldn’t help but wonder… what resides in the clouds? Some might
just give me some scientific explanation about humidity and whatnot. Yet, despite how
insane I may sound, I believe that there are angels inside. They control the cloud’s
movement and shape, constantly watching over us, showing us what we need to see at
that given time. I’ve tried to catch a glimpse of them- using telescopes, climbing onto
roof tops, and other things that I’d rather remain unmentioned- but nothing seems to
work. Something always ends up getting in the way—or I end up getting injured
somehow. If my mo
Dystopia: The Hunger Games PoemDystopia: The Hunger Games Poem2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I wake up blinded by the sunlight
Only to realize absence of life's delight
Everyone yearning for brightness
In this place enclosed in darkness
The piercing pain,
The woeful cries
The thirst for greater wealth
To achieve a better health
Families tenuous of starvation
Parents and children seeking direction
Each district secretly wanting insurrection
Against the Capitol's greedy agitation
Iridescent competition for survival created,
Controlling life for entertainment started
All of us longing for an end to this rapture
No longer wanting to suffer from this seizure
This dystopia encased in obscurity
Residents being absorbed by vanity
Can this really be reality?
Why is it devoured in catastrophe?
What caused us to give birth to human bestiality?
Death by FluffDeath by Fluff11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I used to really like bunnies. Who wouldn’t? They’re cute and lovable, and also really fluffy. They keep to themselves most of the time, and there are always plenty of them to go around. However, all of that changed in the year 2015, when a massive epidemic broke out amongst them. There seemed to be no cure as it spread and spread until, eventually, they were all hunted down to prevent further contact with other species, and possible spread.
No one really managed to explain the sudden disease, or how it came to be until a little over a year afterwards; that’s when the chaos began. You see, the bunnies had all been thought to be dead and buried. One day however, the earth started to shake. People panicked. Not knowing what to do, some getting in their cars, others wondering where to hide or whether to run for higher ground, No one started to run, however, until they came.
Missing The sound of bare feet sloshing through the puddles was nonexistent. Rain drizzled from the sky as a cloaked figure seemed to float through the dimly lit streets. The thin cloth hung loose from slouched shoulders, and gloomy branches swayed heavily, bare of any fruit, of any leaves, of any life. The glassy eyes seemed broken and permanently tinged with red, and the small figure was shadowed in the darkness, the midst of the night...Missing11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Pitter-patter, pitter.." The blue-tinged lips parted and trembled. "I can't feel the winter's air..." Looking upwards, her hood fell back as the wind howled in her face. "Where have the lights gone..?"
The girl had a small, pale face, framed by curly locks void of their usual golden luster. Clamping her eyes shut, she buried her face in her hands for a few moments as she began to walk down the empty street again, muttering to herself.
Step by step, she grew closer and closer to
Under the Glass Observation Dome“Daddy won’t leave me again, right?” muttered the timid, thin-framed child.Under the Glass Observation Dome11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The man, standing before his son, turned his fatigued, weary eyes towards his son’s imploring voice. This was the first time his son had asked this question. He had expected his son to ask this question under the circumstances that they both were under. But he had never expected his son to ask it in an obsolete tone, as if his child had lost all faith in him and felt as if his presence was the very last time he would be able to see him. Distressed, he exhaled a deep, tiresome sigh from his lungs and with as much assurance as he could possibly muster, firmly replied, “I won’t.”
As much as he knew that it was a confirmation, the child felt as if his father had forced a lie to escape from his lips. He continued to stare at his motionless, small hands, which laid limp upon his laps.
The father noticed his son’s unresponsiveness and knew what he had said was inadequate
Dancing With The ReaperMoon light spilling across pale skin,Dancing With The Reaper2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
deadly lines of crimson painted upon the flesh
by a sharpened scythe.
I am dancing with the Reaper,
my lifeline held by his gnarled hands.
I am falling across the waters,
drowning in the river of lost souls.
Death-chilled breath rolling in thick waves
across closed eyelids,
the soft patter of a hunter's tread across the bloodstained floor.
I am dancing with the Reaper,
I am flirting with my death.
I will know the corpse glazed eyes that bore into mine
as the curved blade slices into my ribs.
Grave dirt's muffled sound
as it falls onto the corpse.
The hole in the ground becoming ever smaller.
A marbled tomb erected,
soon to be decayed.
I am dancing with the Reaper,
I am witness to his crimes.
I see his black robes flowing
And I shalln't get out alive.
Anthem of the AngelsSing the anthem of the angels,Anthem of the Angels3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
let them hear your praise,
see you knelt before them,
like some common slave.
Raise your voice,
pour your soul into each word,
sell it to the greater evil.
give them your freedom,
to be who you are,
all in exchange for one fleeting,
brush of wings.
Bow before them,
are you afraid?
Not of the Devil they speak of,
but of those Angels,
pure white wings,
tainted with the blood,
The ones who kept their souls,
the ones who saw,
the true faces,
of your Angels.
Of your God.
you shall forever shun.
The free ones.
Drink the flesh and blood,
of your saviour,
indulge in that at least.
Does the taste of human flesh,
melt on your tongue,
spreading their lies?
Does His blood,
send fire coursing through your body,
the prejudice for others,
now being nurtured within you?
you shudder from it,
we embrace it.
You see the world,
in black and White,
through the rules,
of your keepers.
We see in technicol
UntitledThumbing through a magazine and seeing figures thinUntitled3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wondering if this makes a girl uncomfortable in her skin
When appearances apparently mean a lot and guys observe the curves
But what is shown is false and goes against the purpose that it serves
To inform and help in knowing how to be
But giving you the wrong idea about the world and how its seen
Showing the same types of bodies with variety out of sight
Now youre more concerned about your weight and lack of height
Why keep on buying this magazine
Why keep destroying your self esteem
Beat yourself down and feel ugly all the time
Confidence is sinking and disdain begins to climb
Youre not good enough so the magazine will say
But I suggest you pass the shelf and leave it where it stays
Because inside there is no mirror with which to look
You are more fascinating than any segment of that book
The paper fails to show you just how sexy you really are
Instead it cuts at you and then youre left with lots of scars
Put it back on the rack and