I Will Tell You...
I will tell you that the universe is a simulacrum, that as there is no shared basis for a common reality, our world itself is merely a representation of something that doesn't exist. This, however doesn't mean that our existence is only made up of meaningless semblances of falsehoods, but that meaning is inherent in everything, and that the surface is barely more than a shadow of a multidimensional idea. In our world, neither is anything ever as it seems nor does anything mean anything more than it appears to. Reality, it would seem is made up nothing but the barest reflections of what it could be.
You will look at me like I am psychotic, an
Fleet-footedWe step outside, you and me, and run!Fleet-footed5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
chase the edge of the imaginary
the border of the impossible light
alongside the thaw and the running waters
faster again than the crackling frost
or the long reach of the Queen's hand
The beat of our steps is quick and playful
our leaps and bounds graceful, the twirls still light
toward the golden glow we dash
the passing of the winter on our back
towards the scent of the first Coltsfoot
and our faces against the upcoming glow
Hardwood FloorI am anger,Hardwood Floor6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
coffee cups shattered
on the hardwood floor
I am anguish,
screams of porcelain falling
on the hardwood floor
I am fear,
melted acid scribbles bringing up naked wood
on the hardwood floor
I am terror,
burning liquid shriveling to beans
on the hardwood floor.
I am helpless,
fragments of stranded cup curled mournfully
on the hardwood floor
You are the hardwood floor
Why didn't you?When my insides are screaming for help, I will always smile.Why didn't you?7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
When you hurt me I will make it all a joke.
If you leave me I’ll act like I don’t care.
When everything is silent I want you to speak
When we are apart I want to hold you close
If I say not what is wrong, I’ll make it seem like everything is right
When tears stained my pillow I put smilies in my messages
When I pushed you away, I wanted you to fight for me
Why didn't you?
Deflower.There once was a boyDeflower.7 months ago in Emotional More Like This
who held many beautiful flowers.
He held those flowers dearly.
He loved them so.
those flowers did not feel the same.
One by one, the flowers began to
Noticing this, the boy said nothing.
"I hope they'll be happy wherever they go."
Soon, the boy had no flowers at all.
He began to cry.
He cried for days.
He wept himself an entire ocean.
A nice fairy noticed the boy crying.
As did a corrupt witch.
The fairy said to him:
"Little boy, Little boy,
why is it that you cry?"
"I cry because all my flowers are gone."
"Little boy, Little boy, you must know
The Color Yellow.The Color Yellow.9 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
I have never created something out of nothing.
Really, it's not that.
Something from nothing is something that is impossible. Conservation of mass. Conservation of energy. Never created, never destroyed: merely transferred.
So really, I've never made Artsomething out of nothing is something I've heard a lot.
Renown Artist John Doe creates fantastical images on pure blank canvases in a true work of magic, bringing beauty and emotion from where there was once nothingness
It's rearranging colors.
-The color was in the tube. Now it is on the page, mixed with water and hair particles.
-The letters on the page are the same dots on
UntitledScarlet tears?Untitled1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What a dramatic phrase
Which truly describes
An emotional maze
Red is the colour of anger, or hate,
But it's shown proudly, on the banners
Of the loyal and the brave
It's the colour of passion and love
So it's tender and raw
But also a lipstick shade
Worn by so many whores
So it can be love itself,
Or a cold imitation,
It can be hate,
Or a noble fight for one's nation
To some it means noble defiance,
Unjust traditions slashed away
To others it shows over reliance
On a brain-washing, power hungry State
It can be power to the people,
The oppressed up in arms,
Or the innocent blood spilled
Parallelits an ever burning fire,Parallel1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
its a tree standing bare.
its icy-hot thoughts
and a dying will to care.
thinking in sync to the beeps,
counting in time to the sounds,
crying yourself to sleep
but making jokes during rounds.
counting the drips from the IV bag,
counting the minutes till they're gone.
trying to count the years in days
to figure out when you'll be done.
carrying the world around,
hiding what you feel,
telling lies and stories
to make them think its real.
the smile isn't fake,
the laughter couldn't lie,
so close to making your own decisions
but you're always just shy.
memorizing weight and height,
LinesThe clean lines of his spotless leather briefcase clashed against the creases of his slightly ruffled shirt, his equally ruffled hair, not quite faded into the dull, uniform brown of a London businessman. Designer spectacles framed his tired weary eyes, as he clutched his briefcase with more attended care than he gave to his faintly scuffed shoes, or the loosened navy tie that had only narrowly avoided the untidy treachery of rushed coffee and a leaking ballpoint.Lines1 year ago in Sketches More Like This
He walked with a disciplined gait, but with the type of wistfulness that was startling in a man so young. It wasn't characterised by indolence, and certainly not disinterest. It wa
WalkingA whole life spent walkingWalking3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Walking on the wrong side of the road
A lifetime of missed opportunities
Little chance to lighten the load
Walking amongst the ignorant
Walking amongst the blind
The self righteous and the good
Walking amongst the eluded
Those who profess to know much more
And the guardians by proxy
Who bar opportunities door
Walking amongst the senseless
The Wise man and the fool
Walking amongst the bleeding hearts
The inept, inane and the cruel
Walking amongst the aimless
The ambitious and the strong
Walking amongst minds so weak
They know not right from wrong
Walking with futility
In an a
IdiocyOne day I was bored so I decided to findIdiocy3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If when you stare at the sun, you really go blind.
I went outside to take a rather long gaze.
I stared and stared but felt no pain.
It seemed apparent that I wouldn't lose vision.
My eyes felt fine after this imprudent mission.
I sped inside and yelled for my mom.
I wasn't sure she could handle such a bomb.
"It's all a lie!" I hollered with rage.
"A government plot to control every age!
A conspiracy, a colossal plan!
Trust no one! It's the work of The Man!
I tested it out and none of it's right!
Staring at the sun doesn't cost you your sight!"
I expected fury, or at least some surprise
Freedom from ChaosNoiseFreedom from Chaos3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Anger and confusion,
Fester deep inside.
Accusing and condemning,
All faults were mine,
None of yours,
None at all.
Cease all blame,
My mind is restless,
No peace, no solitude,
Just chaos and noise.
Let me be,
Set me free,
From judgements and blame,
Let my mind breathe,
Leave me be.
See past the blames,
See past the mistakes,
See me as I want to be seen,
See me now,
See me free.
I am human,
Mistakes are what make me,
Open your eyes and see,
How wonderful I can be.
Step aside from the chaos,
Laugh at my jokes,
Ponder at my wisdom,
Smile at my tenderness,
Shed a tear,
For my thoughtfulness.
DruggistsMy father knows everything.Druggists4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This is a very useful skill when you practically live in a car and everything has to change all the time. He knows just how to say things. How to make change simple.
Where are we going?
Is it very rainy there?
Will I be happy?
Then we would be rolling through long stretches of road, sometimes in the dead of a moonless night. My father knew every fairytale and fleshed them out and told them to me when he was tired but had to stay awake. It did not matter if I was awake. The radio in our car was stolen once when I’d left a window open so he told stories.
I never made that mista
RuinI have fallen into my own abyss,Ruin5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
only to surround myself with my own demons.
I have forced myself to walk upon the flames of ruin.
My heart beats in the twisted hands of corruption.
No matter where I turn,
I find myself shrouded in my own darkness,
fighting the demons within.
BattlefieldOn the field of tarnished brown,Battlefield7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
He spent the golden years of his youth in a storm of mud
and gunpowder and the disillusionment
that war was not the glorious thing he believed.
On the field where dreams were only evanescent
as crimson screams bled into smoky skies,
none of the soldiers remained exactly pure,
None of them untainted.
On the field with gunshots on replay,
He almost grew numb to it all,
to all the blood and chaos and fear and despair
as friends, enemies, cities turned to ashes,
And so did he.
On the field that was once an innocent green,
What was left of him was lowered into the ground
With shell fragments still inside so tha
This World Is MineI have the world at my finger tipsThis World Is Mine1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The oceans run down the deserts in my skin
My eyelids grow heavy with the eclipse
And my breath moves the trees like the wind
Secretive EyesHer eyes are green as envySecretive Eyes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But jealous she is not
Her eyes look content
But happy she is not
Her eyes show truth
But true she is not
Secrets live in those pools of emerald nightmares
Secrets are immovable in those eyes
Her eyes illustrate her pain in deceiving ways
Her eyes hold secrets that are left untold
Human NatureTo smile and to cry,Human Nature2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To welcome and to say goodbye,
To make enemies and allies,
To have harmony and to fight,
To be wrong and to be right,
To love and to hate,
To be realistic and to believe in fate,
To tell the truth or to lie,
Human nature that is why .
Just, me.I'm a soldier of the self serving army of me.Just, me.2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Writing my own destiny so as not to whittle myself away to nothing.
I don't have much to say that won't get shot down by your cynical and sharp arrows
that prove to really have no point at all.
But I don't have to prove to you that I can still stand tall.
Self serving army of me.
Writing my own destiny because you don't belong with me in this comedy.
Go write your own tragedy.
Embrace meGive me more. That's it. Keep feeding me. You're doing very well. See? You're making me stronger. What will happen when I gain more power? You and I will be one. One soul. One body. You'll be so powerful, with me as your ally.Embrace me3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I remember the day when I met you. Poor thing! You were a wreck! So weak...so lonely. You didn't use your voice. It was your heart yearning for me. The fast, sweet beatings were irresistables. There you were, a heap in a corner. A bundle of clothes. An ugly, rejected doll that nobody touches. Abandoned. With no one to help you.
No one, but me.
I stood in front of you. You didn't realize I was there. I di
seven minutes in hellseven minutes in hellseven minutes in hell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for every little boy
seven minutes in hell
for every little girl
that causes those boys
for every tear they shed
is a girl who laughs
that she broke that little boys heart
seven minutes in hell for you,
you dirty little bastard.
and to every little boy out there,
someone loves you,
this i know,
for i tell it myself so,
and little souls to me belong,
where i'll keep them safe and warm....
no more hearts for girls to break,
no more lies for boys to take,
seven minutes in hell for every little girl,
those who tore you apart,
come on little boy,
come with me,
adventure to t
I am not a Proper NounI am not a proper noun.I am not a Proper Noun2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am not a nationality, or an ethnicity, or a sexual orientation.
I am not a size, or a measurement, or a cup.
I am not a social class, or a political view, or an opinion.
They are nouns that describe things I am a part of, things I wear, and things I have.
I am adjectives.
Like smart, and funny, and creative.
Like messy, and kind, and forgetful.
Like insecure, and well meaning, and sometimes a little bit clueless.
Like honest, and independent, and proud.
I am verbs.
Like thinking, and drawing, and writing.
Like daydreaming, and imagining, and creating.
Like leaving things to the last minute, and studying, and panicki
MisdemeanorSome call it discrimination. Some call it an invasion of privacy. Some call it justice. Forty years ago, when they started tagging us, there was a lot of talk about it. There were petitions and peaceful demonstrations, and riots and uprisings in some places. There were lawyers fighting on both sides and politicians kissing baby cheeks right and left – ours and theirs – while trying to figure out which side would bring them more votes. In the end it was decided the tags would stay on, but inactive. This way they don't know where we are until we use our powers. They're tuned in on our brainwaves somehow and when we use whatever gifts evolution has given us, the alarm goes off. Then it can only be turned off when we're at the police station for questioning. I suppose it could be worse: they were thinking of killing us off at some point. But it still doesn't feel right to know it's illegal to use your full potential.Misdemeanor3 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
All the law-making happened before I was born, so it didn't f
Wardens' Watch Chapter 1A clear dawn broke into a beautiful morning in the small hillside village of Eades. Beads of dew sat atop fresh blades of grass and shone brightly in the weak light of the rising sun. The early spring air was still crisp with a lingering chill of winter, and it made breath stream from the mouths of the villagers going about their early morning chores. It was, by all accounts, a perfect beginning to what promised to be a fine day.Wardens' Watch Chapter 110 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Not everyone, however, was reveling in the brisk temperatures. One discontented villager let forth a dreary sigh, bound by an unfortunate slew of indoor chores on such a wonderful morning. Her wide blue eyes strayed