My Mother's Diaryi.My Mother's Diary6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I told him today;
he didn't take it well.
Maybe I shouldn't
have said a thing.
He told me he
If you love me,
why abandon me?
I don't feel well,
my stomach aches.
You know what else aches?
My parents know.
They won't speak to me.
I've been crying...
I never used to cry.
I haven't written in a while;
I fainted yesterday.
The doctor says my body
is too small and weak.
I told mom I hate it,
she thinks I need therapy.
He never calls.
He never even looks at me.
I'm getting worse;
I sleep a lot.
I think they're fighting again.
They pulled me from school,
it's better at home.
I don't think I hate it.
No, I don't hate it.
I wonder if it'll be cute?
Do I love it?
I know I like it.
Ow. It hurts again.
The doctor's nervous.
He says this a lot:
I'm too weak, and
I'm too small.
Something bad is happening.
It hurts a lot.
But it's too soon!
Please, stop hurting!
I'm at the hospital.
The nurses look serious.
BookwormConfessions of a proud bookwormBookworm5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I stand before shelves packed with ideas
that are bound in hard and soft,
my fingertips graze their rainbow hued backs,
determined in their search. This one!
The book gets evicted from amongst its fellows
and an alluring scent, one of fresh print,
wafts into my nose.
I plop down on the bed with my new best friend,
allow to drown myself in its world,
and when I'm done I'll get another
and another and another...
You cannot stop the river of words
flowing past my tired, straining eyes.
My brain will not be satisfied
by the pre-chewed thoughts, coated with
neon sugars, that they serve via TV-box.
I want to savor every page and every sentence
until there's not a single word left unread on this Earth.
you're cigarettes+soap+grass"kiss me" she whispers.you're cigarettes+soap+grass5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
and he does.
he leans in at the exact same moment she does and their lips frantically rush to meet. she's gasping for breath and tugging at his hair, digging her nails deep into the back of his head, bringing him closer and closer and closer to their already inseparable faces.
she just can't get enough of him.
she breathes in his scent-marlboro cigarettes and dove soap and freshly cut grass. she breathes it in like it's her very last breath, mouthfuls and mouthfuls of him fill her lungs, and she loves it. she loves every second of it; she wants him to be in her forever.
she runs her fingers along his jaw, his lips, his nose, every feature upon his face she traces-and she traces his eyes for last.
she spends her time on his eyes.
she traces them with her pinky-the pinky he accidentally broke when they first met. he bought a ring for it, a metal colorful rainbow ring for it, to 'make up for the damage' he joked, and with it she traces his lashes and brows and the
Internet University: Part III(A warm day on campus, as per the unwritten laws of IU, fills the grounds with various mobs of students, chatting amongst themselves with not a sad emoticon in sight. Among them, weaving in and out of the crowded bandwidth, our hero Facebook seems to be surveying the area for something. His time alone is short lived, however, as he's soon spotted and charged by his hastily dressed younger brother. Stopping only briefly to show off his friends list to a group of attractive sunbathing Juniors ("Log off, creep!"), Myspace finds his way to Facebook, waving his arms around animatedly.)Internet University: Part III6 years ago in Humor More Like This
Myspace: "F4c3b00K, bR0!!1 0v3R h3R3!"
Facebook: "Dangnabbit. Myspace I'm really busy with something. Can this wait until tonight or something?"
Myspace: "N0, dUd3, u d0n7 uNd3rs74nD! 1 n33d ur h3lP w17 s0m37h1nG"
Facebook: "I've already explained this to you, Myspace. That creepy guy Tom is not really you're friend. You should probably stop inviting him to things"
Myspace: "Wh47? N0 n07 7h47. 5
Why the Wind WailsWhy the Wind WailsWhy the Wind Wails5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Long ago, when gods and demons were more numerous and powerful than today, there lived in one corner of the world a Jaguar.
Now this Jaguar was no ordinary beast, for he grew far larger than others of his kind, until he towered over the greatest trees and began to rival even the smaller mountains. He knew hunger then, for being so large there was no game that could sustain him for long. Ravenous, he left the jungle and trekked north in search of better hunting.
He entered a desert, where at first he found only jackrabbits and the occasional coyote, neither of which was more than a tiny mouthful at a time. Besides which, the thunder of his belly rumbling sent most of them scurrying for their burrows before he ever got near.
The Jaguar was nearing the point of despair, about to lie down in the dust and wait to breathe his last when a musky scent wafted teasingly across his nose. Cresting a mountain, he sighted in the valley below a herd of gigantic pronghorned antelope
Return to Internet University(Huge groups of students quickly fill the lecture hall in preparation for yet another long day of learning at Internet University. Seated in a row far in the back of the classroom, a barely-awake Twitter waits patiently for his good friend Facebook to hang up his Chatbox)Return to Internet University6 years ago in Humor More Like This
Facebook: No, I told you last night I havent seen it, remember? Look, man, if that things that important to you you should go see Google about it. I have to go.
Twitter: I am wondering who that was
Facebook: Oh it was just Craig. He lost his stupid list again. I keep telling that guy to get more organized
Twitter: Tsh, Craig. I am remembering a few weeks ago when he tried to hook me up with some dog-walking gig and sell me an old copy of Osmosis Jones at the same time
Facebook: Thats not even the half of it. One time he had this freakin hornets nest, right? And- oh crap here she comes! Here, uh, act like my last Stat
WaterWater runsWater5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It fills every space
It rages white
It stills blue
And sparkles in the light
Of the warming sun
It reads the reflections
Of every gaze
And every night
A gray moon
It ripples and bubbles
From the landing
Of a single leaf
A skipped rock
Trees cast shadow
But water shines through
Clear as day
A cloudless sky
Years of flowing
Water erodes deep crevices
In the flesh of the earth
But it never stops running
From Point A to Point BHer face slammed against the desktop roughly. She could feel blood beginning to drip from her nose, but chose to ignore it and instead rhythmically pounded her fists beside her ears. It was only when they were too numb to feel the pain that she stopped.From Point A to Point B6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Meet Lost Friend A, for this is how her mother found her. By that time, the blood had dried and crusted into rusty rivers on her face and on the desk, and her hands had bruised dark indigo. With a tender sigh, Mother wet a towel and mopped up the violence, but not the pain, and placed her daughter in the bed.
Before she left, she picked up that shattered pieces of the picture frame on the floor and placed the print on the dresser, wishing that somehow it could be that simple to pick up the pieces of ones life and move on.
The picture remained on the dresser for days, Lost Friend A not daring to break that sanctity that it showed. When it finally was moved, it was pinned to the ceiling by four thumbtacks above the bed where it wo
TightropeTightrope5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One foot after the other, don't look down.
Don't look at the mass of predators waiting on the ground.
They're tigers, each with their name written in the stripes of their coats
Making me their prey is the only means for them to gloat.
Taking a deep breath, I hold the bar across my chest and take another step,
Steadying myself from the last time one of the tigers had leapt.
Why is it that sometimes I can walk with ease, without a care?
And other times the wire cuts into my feet, making me wobble and not dare
To look around, because I know they're licking their lips
Imagining the chunks of flesh, the tears and the rips.
Insecurity is the leader of the pack
He waits on his haunches patient for his time to act.
Fear isn't as subtle, he's constantly tossing and turning.
He can't hide that expression of longing and yearning.
Anger is constantly on my tail
Trying to make me lose focus, causing me to fail.
But everytime I think I'll fall
Lose my footing, thinking I'll lose
In Three ActsmanIn Three Acts6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
The Melting ManI sat by my window, looking out over Summer Street, from the apartment Id taken after Marys death. A potted ivy wilted on the sill - green in the center, brown around the edges. I hadn't had much luck with plants since Maryd gone. My pipe needed reaming too, but I couldnt muster the energy for even that small task.The Melting Man7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The sky was darkening with the promise of rain as I watched the strange little man who lived down the hall come darting up the walk.
No one knew who he was. He lived in our building but his mailbox was simply emblazoned Occupied. He was a small man with merry little eyes, features indistinct beneath an incredible growth of facial hair. His nose pushed out of that forest like the stump of a tree, brown and weathered like the skin on the back of his hands. He must have spent all his time in the sun. I called him Mr. Occupied for lack of a better name.
Gravity did not seem to have the same effect on him as it did on ordinary people. He walked with
the editorI make bad things go away.the editor5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hit man? No, it's nothing like that. No, not organized crime. Christ, kid, where do you get these ideas? I bet it's television. Or those goddamn video games you people are always playing. What? So now I'm being judgmental? Do you know what I could do with one scratch of my pen?
No, forget it. I'm a little tired, that's all. It's hard work, you know. If you'd just listen for a moment, I'll tell you.
I'm a city editor. Not like newspapers, no. You have to train a lifetime to do the kind of work I do. And even if you do train a lifetime, not everybody's got the brains for it, you know? Imagination, that's what I'm talking about! You're young. You know imagination, don't you?
Now don't be stingy with the bottle. I know you were just going to spend the money getting wasted is what you call it, right? Better I drink this poison anyway. You're not old enough to be ruining your liver.
Now as I was saying. City editor. You think it is about newspapers, hah! Shows
Welcome to Internet UniversityAs sunlight begins creeping over the dorms of Internet University, massive waves of students begin their daily routines, with IMing and long cafeteria load times abound. We join a scene in the bedroom of notable info-maniac personality Twitter as his roommate Facebook attempts to get him out of bedWelcome to Internet University6 years ago in Humor More Like This
Facebook: "Twitter! Come on get up!"
Twitter: "I'm getting up! Stop poking me!"
Facebook: "Well hurry up! I could write four notes by the time you get ready"
Twitter: "Okay, I'm up. Now I'm putting on my sock"
Facebook: "I don't need the play by play, Tweet"
Twitter: "Dang, I can't find a good shirt. I'm now searching my closet. Im still looking"
Facebook: "Seriously, man. So unnecessary"
Twitter: "Kinda like that layout change I caught you formatting last week."
Facebook: "Shut it! Myspace is comin' in"
Myspace: "H3y GuYs! I 4m t3h c00lz!"
Twitter: "I am confused. I am hoping FB understands what Myspace said"
Facebook: "Myspace, bro, I asked you not to do that"
A Note on Writing CharactersA Note on Writing Characters5 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
My dearest, darling Author:
I enjoyed reading your book, I really did. But there were some things that simply got on my nerves.
Your need to tell me absolutely everything, as if every tiny detail were just so integral to the plot, was supremely annoying. I do not need to know a character's hair and eye color when I first meet them, or every detail down to the style of his buttons when he walks into a scene; I do not necessarily need to know what his lunch was or that he went bowling with the guys last Saturday and has been in the league for five years. Take for instance that scene on the veranda, where the one protagonist stepped up to the wall and got his first good look at the sea in years. You wasted paragraphs and paragraphs of words explaining how, when he was a boy and saw the ocean for the first time, it was terrifying to him, left him with a feeling of crushing loneliness. Now, if you had simply said he stepped up to the wall and saw the sea for the first time in years, and had
Recipe for Bad PoetryHow to Write Bad Poetry:Recipe for Bad Poetry8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Start with: SCISSORS
Scissors are very good cutting your prose
into pieces (as well as fending off mobs of real poets).
It works better if you start with
some imagery, such as simile
Destroy This PoemDestroy This PoemDestroy This Poem8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
To the person grading this poem
To the kind, patient woman hovering over this with a pen
Waiting to say kind, patient words in response, do me a favor:
Dont Patronize me.
I did not slave over this with hammer and anvil
Shaping it into a masterpiece.
I didnt paint it onto the ceiling of some church,
Going blind from the pain and the stress.
I didnt even turn this in on time.
And while Im writing this in my fifth-period economy class,
You can bet Im not concerned with iambs and troches and Italian terza rima.
No, Im concerned with how much water is left in my water bottle.
This isnt a masterpiece.
Who are we kidding?
Youre not going to hurt it, and you most certainly arent going to hurt me.
Dont patronize me.
I want you to destroy my work.
I want you to rip it to shreds with sadistic dominatrix glee.
Tear it apart from margin to margin;
Laugh openly at its crippled, struggling body.
He Is Not An Edward.He is not an Edward.He Is Not An Edward.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He doesn't stare at me every minute he is with me.
Or smell my hair and watch me sleep.
Won't follow me, like a lost puppy,
Sometimes, he'll even walk away.
He doesn't love me for my faults,
It's in spite of them.
He'll notice pretty girls, even think of
When he laughs at me, it's because I'm silly,
The thought of me getting hurt does not bring tears to his eyes.
He would not die if I died,
He is not an Edward.
And I am not a Bella.
We are real.
Our love is real.
Is more important, and genuine
Than idealistic, impossible fantasies.
I want a Sam.
Alpha DogShilo and Jack were twins and they had never been separated by more than a few heart beats. Their coats were mostly black, but their bellies were white, as were their feet. Both of their faces were white with black blotches over each ear and each eye. They looked almost identical, except for some coloring on the face. Shilo's eyes were enveloped by lightish, creme colored fur while Jack had a line of grey hairs around the top of his right eye that made him seem older and wiser somehow.Alpha Dog6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Their territory was small, but it was theirs alone. Two floors in the shelter and a decently sized yard made up their land and they guarded the small claim with pride. They had not been here for long, but, given that they were still young, they had no memories of anything before. This place was all that they knew.
Though the two young pups looked a lot alike, they were very different in how they ruled over their land.
Shilo was an outgoing explorer. She poked her nose into every nook and cranny she could
SSE Parody Chapter 24CHAPTER 24: YOUR WHAT IS WHAT?!SSE Parody Chapter 247 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Samus, Pikachu: *Are running down a hallway*
Alarms, Sirens: *Are blaring*
Samus: Pikachu you idiot, I told you not to press that button!
Pikachu: But it said "Press for free Poffins!"
Samus: *Rolls eyes* Too late for that; let's get going!
Multiple ROBs: *Appear*
Pikachu: Looks at all the ROBs. They must be the security guards or something.
Samus: Well? Let's turn them to scrap metal!
Pikachu: PIKA! *Thunders the ROBs*
ROBs: *Are short-circuted*
Pikachu: Yeah! I'm the master of this! Elecricity is perfect for this job!
Samus: (Master of the ****ing obvious, that's what you are.)
Pikachu: Samus? SAMUS!
Samus: I'm right here.
Pikachu: Heh, sorry...I couldn't see you; you blended in perfectly with all the metal and chrome.
Samus: ...My suit is orange. The walls aren't.
Samus: What, are you colorb