CN Adventures Collide-CH 4"What's so good about a couple of coins?" Finn asked. "Couple of Coins? These aren't just a 'couple of coins', these coins are nearly impossible to find!" Peppermint Larry informed the two, now holding on to coins tightly in his hand. "Wow, so there really that special!" Flapjack exclaimed, happy to have heard of these rare coins.
"I'm not lying about this at all; they're even said to hold special abilities but I don't believe in that superstition." Flapjack listened closely, wanting to hear everything about these coins. Finn on the other hand didn't seem very concerned about the info, actually he seemed kind of bored from the constant talking.
"If you had a couple more of these, you could buy yourself a lifetime of candy from here " Flapjack couldn't describe how joyous he felt at Larry's words. A lifetime of candy would be like pure bliss for him. No need to ever scrounge for candy anymore in dumpsters or beg from strangers. No need for fighting over the last piece of candy with
Beep BeepBeep BeepBeep Beep3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is there anything
you can do?
Why is she crying?
I want to call out to her
But I can’t.
I want to hug her, embrace her
But I can’t.
I’m stuck in place.
I can’t even see my mom’s peachy
All I see is darkness.
I’m terribly sorry Ms.Harper.
I can feel someone grip my hand
Holding it tightly
It was Mom.
I want to do something.
Scream, kick, sniffle, cry…
But I can’t!
What’s wrong with me?
Honey, it’s time we
I know, but we
can’t stay here all night.
Suddenly I’m enveloped in this
My mother was hugging me.
I wanted to cry, sniffle, weep…
But like every other attempt
before it didn’t work.
All of a sudden I’m hit with
My parents left me all alone.
As the sound of footsteps started
to settle this other sound came.
This Beep … Beep sound.
It was the only thing that
Work Force CycleWork Force CycleWork Force Cycle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
From the day you're born,
You're called to be special.
You go to school and college.
You "learn" the curriculum.
Mathematics, literature, history…
You download that information,
because you need it.
Creativity, you say?
Don't bother with that.
It doesn't follow the curriculum.
Just download the knowledge
you're ready for reality.
Oh, you say you aren't special?
Don't say that, you're quite special.
Now let's see …
You are going to be a businessman.
What, you say you want to be an artist?
No, that won't due.
That won't make you special.
A job like that can't give you:
What, you don't want a life like that?
You don't want the money?
Any of it!
You'd give all of that up,
for a life without that …
Well, okay then.
But let me ask you something before I go.
Why don't you want to be special?
Because, that isn't me.
Late Night-Poem"Late Night"Late Night-Poem4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's a Late Night
A peaceful one at that
No sounds of any sort
Except for the Air Conditioner
No bright lights to distract me
Minus the computer
All the stress from the morning just rolls away
On this Late Night
Just surfing the internet with ease
As I enjoy this Late Night
Who knew I could feel so good on this peaceful
The NarratorThe Knight saved the Princess.The Narrator3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She married the Knight.
Laughter and cheers are endless.
Music is entwined.
The lights shine.
And the dinning is fine.
It is the perfect fairytale ending.
But you’re excluding one variable.
He goes by many aliases.
While others pleasant.
The Storyteller, The Yarn Spinner and so forth.
He is the one who opens the red curtain.
Once Upon A Time…
And at the end closes the curtain at the finale.
Happily till their deaths…
But what about his story?
Where is his recognition?
Where is his banquet?
Where is his fairytale ending?
But the sad truth is…
No one realizes his importance.
He gives breath to the void pages.
He fills the tome with an archive of black lustrous beauties.
He gives a soul to all that exist within the plain.
Sadly that is how it works.
His own creations become popularized.
And always in the end.
He goes unnoticed.
Just like this.
Pills of ColorPills of ColorPills of Color2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What should I choose from this rainbow of pills?
Maybe the red pill.
It has a bitter taste.
I’ll be filled with a surge.
A blaze of warmth.
It’ll be heat that ravages my insides.
And thus in the end swallow me in its charred skin
Isn’t that what fire does all the time?
But I always have other options.
What about the blue pills.
They have a sweet taste to them.
When it reaches my belly, a cool effect kick in.
At first it is a tingle.
Then I feel a blue numbness begin to crawl.
It spreads to my legs and arms first.
A sense of peace taking over.
At the finale it consumes my heart in a cold oblivion.
It is peaceful to say, unlike the red pill.
There is also the green pill.
The green pill has a spicy taste to it.
It’s quite different from the red and blue.
Butterflies start to bloom in my chest.
My head starts to flutter and flap.
And my heart grows wing
It has euphoria beyond my description.
A black, endless euphoria.
You're The ReaderI recommend you put this story down. I fear you may not enjoy it being as it will be a bit disturbing possibly for you. But who am I to stop the reader; it is your choice after all whether you choose to read this or not. But after this sentence I have warned you.You're The Reader2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There once was a young man named Bob. He would go through his daily life, doing the job he loved at his cubicle. Filing papers.
Every morning, at 7:00 AM on the dot, he would wake up for work and get ready for the day ahead. He starts with a shower, then putting on his suit, having himself some toast and egg and heading out his door with his briefcase. His life and his job were simple but he took mindless pleasure in it.
Every day at work he would sit at his computer and file papers on it. He didn’t know why he chose this profession or why he enjoyed it but he still did it. He would happily type key by key filling out paper after paper that he received early in the morning from his boss.
But there was one day where he re
Lego PiecesLego PiecesLego Pieces2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I run up stairs, turn a corner, run into my room and finally slam the door shut. I drop my blue backpack at the door and instantly head for the window near my bed. I slide the window open and let some air into this musty room. Finally I sit on the edge of bed and relax.
I just got home from a long, exhausting day of school and I needed to do something fun. No more reading or math, just personal time for this kid. And first things first, time to start playing with my Lego pieces.
I get up from bed and stroll on over to my treasure chest in the far right corner. It was full of toys in all of its glory. Why many would say treasure is gold or riches I disagree. Toys are the best form of treasure in my opinion.
Other kids in my own elementary school say, “You’re too old for Legos man! You’re nine years old, grow up.” But you know something, I don’t care. My classmates just think you can’t be my age and play with toys but let me tell you
What a GentlemanThe way you carry yourself.What a Gentleman2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The way you speak.
It's so cool.
No it isn’t.
You’re quite handsome.
And you have a personality to match.
I wish I could be just like you.
Don’t wish that.
To have all of that money.
All those privileges.
It is surely a life of leisure.
If only you knew.
Your parents must really love you.
They probably give you hugs.
And kisses all the time.
Don’t go assuming that.
I mean I get stuff like that.
But not in your quantity.
I sometimes wish I was-
Hey where are you going?
Oh tired. Well see ya at school tomorrow then.
Yea you too.
MasqueradeHidden faces all around...Masquerade3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
No Identities shall be found
Music notes ignite like a flame
People dance with no shame
For with masks, faces are sealed
No fear that identities shall be revealed
For within a masquerade
All secrets shall be saved
Vida.Life tests you sometimes. It throws you so hard onto the ground, you can't feel anything but pain, taste anything but blood, or see anything clearly because of your teared-up eyes.Vida.2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Sometimes you hurt so much, real physical pain doesn't come close, strangely it seems like a relief. A pain that lingers, and makes you feel like you are sleepwalking through your nightmare of a life.
Life is the teacher, preacher, the abuser, and the user, but it is you that decides how to deal with it all.
Life sits idly by, watching you walk across the universe, it throws obstacles along your path to see how tough you really are, how much you really want something, how far you will go.
It leads you right to the edge, just when you are about to free-fall, the wind blows against you, and you think twice.
I guess, we are all quantum, reacting to one another throughout our little venture, also known as a lifetime. Some take the easy road, others are dealt the tough one, some cut it short and choose their own
Real You and Fake MeReal You and Fake MeReal You and Fake Me3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Who are you? Is that something you can really answer? Throughout your nomadic existence you could never truly answer that question. You are like clay; you can mold yourself into whatever you please in order to fool the common masses. I envy that power of yours. You make yourself flawless, proper, and intelligent. Without effort you can put anyone into your indefinite maze of shape and size. As someone such as myself, I can’t fathom the mysteries within that sealed heart of yours. Can you be someone real anymore? Continuously molding yourself must be tiring… and painful. Even when you do this, your ever changing personally always draws the undesirables out. Is that a good thing? I suppose it is. As you have lost the will to carry on with humanity, you’ve lost the twinkle of your heart. The love of humanity you once held dear has ceased before it began, and you were in pain even before you knew what that was.
Who am I? I can’t answer that any