The Silver ChildFather bore me of the bellows
Woke me by night to beat me
Stroke by stroke
Drew a fire
Turned me over
And father told me I was incomplete
He took me outside
The wind didn't whistle like I thought it would
The birds didn't sing
No rain weeping a rat-a-tat rally
No crickets pulling their bows
Father bathed me
Father drowned me
And father told me I was the silver child
Father hammered out the dents
Lonely twangs belted against an angry anvil
Father sheathed me in gold
Pretended I was pure
The first son not to shatter
The first son not to be sold
And father told me I was complete
Godchaser - Prologue Brother Francis’ foot caught on an uneven brick. He lurched forward, his breath caught in the stitch in his chest; he stumbled, and his dress shoes scraped across the wet cobblestone as he managed to stop. He straightened up, his chest heaving and his glasses askew, but his arms still anchored to Gabriel’s shoulders. His two comrades had abruptly stopped when he tripped; the bishops’ quickly whipped their heads around and stared at him, wide-eyed, their faces nearly as white as their robes – their fear seemed to emit an eerie luminescence to the early evening.Godchaser - Prologue1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Not now,” Francis gasped shortly as he urged the two onward, “We don’t have the time!”
The one holding Gabriel’s left leg nodded and turned around; the one on the right visibly gulped – his Adam’s apple protruding like a large white stone from his thin sweaty neck – and shot a
Darkened PerfectionJoin us here, we welcome youDarkened Perfection1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
to a world of wonder and joy
no outcasts here, just perfection
doesn't your life seem void
tears fall not
dreams are found
let the hardships of life flee from you
no need to feel down
come young child
into the world of darkened perfection
where mirrors are not needed
for who needs a reflection
~Cookies, Brother, Large Field~the crumbs fall from your mouth~Cookies, Brother, Large Field~1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
as you take the last bite.
the pastry tasted amazing, like you remembered.
you sit back in your chair,
close your eyes with a simple smile,
and let the memories rush back...
the colors are spinning around your eyes.
when you stop, the colors settle
into your surroundings.
you are 5 again
in your favorite field,
the ones with the buttercups you used to pick and bring home.
and your brother was there too.
he was 20 years old that day
and he said as a present to himself
he wanted to spend the whole day with you.
so you chose your safe place,
he had lifted you up and spun you around.
when he stopped, you both fell from dizziness.
you both laugh.
the laughs are pure
and are crafted from true enjoyment.
your brother didn't want you to know,
or maybe he thought you were too young to understand,
but he was dying.
he was slowly dying from a tumor in his brain
and he wasn't going to live to when it was your turn to be 20.
he took out the c
Pencil SkirtI am a pencil skirt Pencil Skirt1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A pinstriped business card on bronze stilettos.
1. The choker at my neck
2. Ribbons to dress my mane
3. Colored glass for my ears
In favor of
1. A bonus at my desk
2. Plaques to dress my wall
3. A trinket for my shipyard
I sleep beside the bleached bones of my suitors.
The radiator rattle protects my four-digit wages
From girlish distractions -
From famished sighs wrestled out by tired fingers.
38. trustIt is a matter of perception38. trust1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
And is also a matter of interpretation
Trust, a funny thing it truly is
But how do we live our lives around it?
Do you trust me because you know me
Or is that the reason for your distrust?
You have parts of me
That no one else will ever have
But you seem to be unaware
Or is it just not enough?
I trusted you because you never gave me a reason not to
But now that you have, how do I piece it back together?
I am lost in my mind
As the realizations set in
What I had not seen at first
Is slowly setting in
Is it worse to have suspicion though nothing done
Or betray promises made to seek your own truth?
Tested and failed
What is left?
All that's left is a question mark
I do not know who you are
And wonder if you know me
They say, trust
Once broken will never be the same
Was it really worth testing the accuracy?
Imaginary FriendI once had a friend.Imaginary Friend1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That was made of pretend,
Who's only friend was me.
We played all alone,
Just all on our own.
Down on the hills,
And the trees.
We ran through the woods,
Jumped in the hills,
And played in the dark,
Because we lived for the thrills.
We went on our journeys,
And time would stand still.
The world would change,
Because it was our will.
Then came the days
My friend started to fade.
We no longer spoke,
We just sat in the shade.
And as we sat silent
We looked at the sky .
My friend left for the last time,
Without a goodbye.
I guess the fact is.
They were no longer shy.
I once had a friend,
I thought was made of pretend.
Who supposedly no one could see.
So I sit and I wait,
Pretending their late.
Alone with no guarantee.
Hoping and saying ,
* Nomad*Time of change, years ago* Nomad*1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Since then life's bittersweet
Cold seeped into my life force
This engenders great remorse.
History coloured many days
Odd wonderous moments enjoyed
Benjamin Disraeli kissed my hand
His charm I managed to withstand.
Was presented at Russian court
Dressed in white my favours sort
More than a few felt tempted to bite
Kept my fangs well out of sight.
Napoleon Bonaparte Corsican upstart
Eventually exiled to Elba
Dined on him, his blood so thin
Obvious to me he would not win.
Life of change, one wish denied
Should love to turn back time
Not possible - it's torture for me
So many people would disagree.
White RoseI'm searching for a white roseWhite Rose1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Among a sea of crimson red
That litter the field in countless throes
Looking for life among the dead
I see one withered black rose,
And one red with gleaming thorns,
But not a hint of white within the rows
Of both the old and the newborns
I stop and sit to take a rest,
Watching blue skies give into red,
Holding this hope within my breast
That I might find life among the dead
I have been searching all my life
As countless others did before me,
Searching for the truth among questions rife,
For a hint of white among a red sea
And forever I will search the field
Where the red roses thrive,
Hoping for the White Rose to yield
And help our souls to revive
Working Title: The Fire TamerPrologueWorking Title: The Fire Tamer1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The sun was setting. Its dying rays spilled liquid gold on the city above the city, the red rooftop roads spread to map the home of pigeons. The incessant sound of clopping hooves beat the air; the murmur and rumble of a broken Italy slid unnoticed by those who created the noise. High on one of these rooftops, watching the sun make its resounding exit, sat a woman. This was an unusual sight; not because someone was on the roof no, but that is was a woman on the roof. The butter gold light washed down her face and drenched it in one colour, sliding off it, till her skin was lit no more. It crept past her shoulders and those shoulders heaved a sigh.
The woman pulled her dangling leg to join her other, leapt from her crouched position and landed on a lower roof with catlike feet. She vaulted from there into the deserted alley. She knew she'd acted impulsively, storming from her mother like that. She should return; besides, the dark was coming.
She found her discarded skirt where
The Siege of the Old FiveThe keep’s walls were made of mighty stone hauled in here from the same quarry that built my forefather’s foundations and roofs. My hand ran alongside me feeling the stone rapping out a small rhythm with two knuckles. The song was hard to hear over the general buzz in the corridor of men running, their armor sending a high clang as they ran, and bowmen peering through the small slits all praying to their god. My own prayers went to the Old Five that oversaw all of mankind, but these days those prayers were always silent.The Siege of the Old Five1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Outside the slits in the walls was coming the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. A pulsing melody that ran with the many myriad horned instruments and a bass-line that was so loud it seemed to shake the keep. The soldiers of the enemy were all singing in tempo and tone, something exceedingly rare for an army I’ve found in my travels. Usually the drunken songs and marches all degrade to shouting matches and swilling more ale—a truly awfu
Guiding Human ExperimentsGuiding Human Experiments: The Result of Twentieth Century EthicsGuiding Human Experiments1 year ago in Historical More Like This
Humans have always served as scientific guinea pigs, but when do experiments lose their element of humanity and cease to be ethical? Throughout history, human experiments have been motivated by a desire for knowledge regarding the human body. However, in the twentieth century, several experiments were uncovered that appalled and outraged the public. Scientists were discovered to have conducted human research without obtaining proper consent or notifying the subjects. Questions of ethical standards surfaced in the scientific community and the idea of ethical guidelines and requirements for research was presented. Beginning with the Nuremberg Code used in the trials of German doctors after World War II, the United States government and its agencies have adopted standards to control human experiments, limit experimenters' power, and protect the interests of participants
The Folly of ManThe folly of man lies within his progress,The Folly of Man1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Though he sees it not in his deep urgency.
Disaster lies in the wake of his success
And spoils the beauty of victory.
I see the ever impending upshot
The one that begins at the foot of man
And lies in the shadows by man forgot
Where the ethereal dream first began.
Time goes on and leaves behind the end
Of failed attempts to ease man's heavy chain.
And even though the people still pretend
Not to see the consequence of gain --
I must acknowledge evr'y isolated grave
For from my drop of water came the wave.
As The Future Repeats Today...The buildings were unnaturally cold, as if in every doorway, molecular winter had arrived. Somewhere, the sound of building frames crashing split through these now silent streets. The echoes of men greater than most were all that broke the silence. A sense of despair was now the life of the town, a star among the unknown. He had his way throughout the bars and left his mark upon this place, spreading his brand of joylessness wherever he was needed, or rather, not. His judgement would be that mankind be more in touch with both a man's and a tree's roots.As The Future Repeats Today...2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As I stepped carefully about, admiring the decaying walls, I stepped on a brown wrapper. I picked it up and read its label: "Al's Mint & Chip Chocolate Candy Bars! Only a quarter!" I threw it into a dried gutter, hoping the rats would find Al's candy a lot more inviting. I'd imagine Al isn't around anymore to see his treats tossed away.
The harsh rain, one that begins softly, soon came. As the sky bawled, I
Swordsmen's DuelTheir swords clashed heavily in the cool midnight air. The resulting sparks briefly enhancing the light of the stars and moon. Locked in a stalemate, the two combatants jumped away from one another before closing the distance once more. The two of them were rivals in every sense of the word, matching each other slash for slash, and parry to parry. They used no shields, for those things only serve to limit offensive strategy. Relying on the cold pieces of steel held tightly in each of their hands, it was almost poetic how the two struggled to best one another.Swordsmen's Duel1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The younger fighter having more raw talent than his superior was too worn out to think. His instincts were all that kept him alive by that point. The older having the experience of what some could call too many battles at his disposal, was able to easily read the simple style of the younger. But simple does not mean ineffective. Talent versus strategy, a battle that in t
The Slave Trader“Good evening, Herr.” The man’s voice was small, accented in Spanish. He was wearing a pair of glasses and an old tricorne hat colored dark blue. The table he was sitting at was laden with papers and scrolls, a few inkwells and enough quills to make me think a goose is running around completely naked. The room was empty save for him and me; a number of candles resting on the table and a few shelves around cast the room in odd shadows.The Slave Trader1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Wie gehts? Diese ist eine gute Nacht, ja?” I replied sitting in the worn out armchair across from the bespectacled man. A small smile broke out on his face at the remark.
“You’ll have to excuse me, I know very little. Please, make yourself comfortable. Coffee? This late, I think it would help.” Without waiting for my answer, he’s already up and moving towards the door. He calls for some coffee down the hall; I hear muddled footsteps outside the room. “Shall we begin?”
Oneiroid"Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster"Oneiroid1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My favorite part of her was her skeleton, slender, delicate and elaborately designed. I loved her spine, they way it curved into my hands. Even more lovely were the simple, graceful wings of her clavicles. Entranced as I was with the elegant mechanics of her hands, I could not help but hold them in mine with reverence.
I remember the way she lay crumpled on the bed, sheets flowing around her like waves. I remember the delicate veins in her wrists and the slight bend in her knees that brought her long, sharply-arched feet to mine. I remember with incredible clarity, as if at this very moment I could slip back to that tenebrous room and lie in safety.
Every moment since then is pregnant with delirium and tinted with fever, as if I had been suddenly overtaken by some tropical disease. Looking back, that night was the last time I saw the world as an artist: absorbing each and every detail, struck by the beauty that surrounded me.
JOURNAL OF ENCOUNTERS WITH NUADA - Part 1I was born and raised on earth, neither of royal nor of noble birth, but by parents of noble temperament. True to our race, we lived for short periods of time, in many places. My favorite was a small village, nestled in a wide valley surrounded by rolling green hills. The forests and meadows were my playground by day, the moon and the stars, my playmates by night. Unlike others of my race, I preferred a life of peace and solitude.JOURNAL OF ENCOUNTERS WITH NUADA - Part 11 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
By the time I reached the Age of Understanding, my family had settled in a community made up of various races, races not traditionally known for their inclination to integrate. Though set apart by racial and cultural differences, we were all obliged to reluctantly set aside those differences in the interest of our mutual survival.
There were some who had the great good fortune to have come into being on distant worlds yet inhabited by our kind. They came to Earth of their own free will, in search of adventure, excitement and mystery. I envied them, for my rac
Kill the Monster!He was going to kill the monster. He knew that it was the only way. Some people simply were born wrong, with something horrible and ravenous inside. They pretended to be humans as the others, they concealed their nature in the crowds, but if you knew what they truly were, you could see in each stare of theirs, the hunter's one. A beautiful woman, a little kid, their own family members. All potential victims. It depended on the kind of monster.Kill the Monster!1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
You shouldn't have pity on them, because the first one to be devoured by the beast in their heart was themselves, along with the ability to understand and return feelings. If you waited too long, they would succumb to their black desires, and some real human would be torn apart. It is often said that one can never be the same after a rape, that it drains all that you have, all the happiness, for the rest of your life. He wouldn't let the monster he knew do such thing to anyone. But he couldn't rely on justice, on police. Bureaucracy would slow th
Grim TidesGrim TidesGrim Tides1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The night was calm and had been uneventful. The breeze barely stirred the tarpaulin covering the tools on the ship's deck. The moon was not quite full but still bright enough to turn the sea's surface into a mirror when the thick cloud cover gave up trying to blot out earth's largest satellite. Currently the clouds seemed to have tired of the game they played and started thinning out allowing the moon to bathe the ships bobbing on the surface in its cold and sterile light.
Nick the junior pilot of the Mighty Mariner kept pivoting so his gaze would move left to right, or Port to Starboard as his instructors and training manual kept insisting, some habits just seem to refuse to die altogether. The ship was an old one, launched from the Sunderland shipyards in 73 the Makams had built her to last, still on the outside she looked rusty and weather beaten. Her interior especially the ships "bridge" was the definition of idiosyncratic. Keeping as much of the original furnishings
Thyra's Diary - Nov 15th, 1012ADI had the terrible dream again yesterday. This time, Blanka wasn't with me. I was wading through the snow by myself, and I could see the sun slowly vanishing behind the distant mountains, leaving only a dim, yellow glow above the horizon, seeming to come from everywhere. I could feel the panic growing stronger as if the sun took my courage away as it receded. Behind me three crows fluttered violently amongst the trees, but I didn't dare turn around to look, but trudged on forwards.Thyra's Diary - Nov 15th, 1012AD1 year ago in Historical More Like This
The snow seemed to grow deeper and denser, even though the sky was clear. It clung to my dress and weighed me down. That's when I heard the rasping of rotten lungs behind me. The smell became strong in my nostrils and made me retch until there was nothing left but green bile. Panic seized me, and I tried to run, but the snow made it impossible. There was nothing I could do to escape. The stench grew stronger and I turned around. This time it wasn't Sigge. In stead Gisle was hopping forwards in my tracks. His
A Tale of Ancient Man, Part 2A Tale of Ancient ManA Tale of Ancient Man, Part 26 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
By Paavo Longshanks
The trees groaned and crackled in the distance. Thorsson nodded quietly to his protege, a young man named Honor. The lad was eleven years old, with a bushy mop of blond hair and a skinny body wrapped in a robe made from various pelts. His father had died the previous Spring during a bison hunt when the herd turned suddenly and unexpectedly in his direction, trampling him. Thorsson had taken the boy under his wing, realizing the importance of having a male figure to pattern himself after in his fathers absence. His mother had been gratified at the prospect of her son being raised by a Shaman. An important aspect of Cro-Magnon life was the rite of passage, in which young males proved their worthiness in the challenge of the hunt. This involved not only killing a large and dangerous animal, but learning about the tribes traditions and religion. Under the tutelage of their elders, males on the edge of puberty learned important
Aeternus of Noctem TenebraeThe day was like that of any other, the First Eye of Heaven ascending from the shadows of the East to signal the beginning of the day's ever-continuing, eternal cycle. I rose at 6:00AM in the morning to prepare thyself for the events of the day. The First Eye of Heaven is shining its golden rays upon all of the Western Hemisphere; its embrace and presence unavoidable and undeniable. I rose from my bed to the most annoying sound in all existence, my alarm clock. Swiftly I silenced the clock with a flip of a switch. Immediately afterwards I proceeded to the showers, to the morning feast, enjoying the silence of the morning's time, slowly waking up from the Realm of Dreams and savoring the serene peace of the morning's glory.Aeternus of Noctem Tenebrae1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Then I realized my mother had awaken after receiving little sleep as bounty for her long laborious night previous at her place of work. I swiftly finished off what little remained of my feast and reveled in the last moments of peaceful silence before I strode outside
One Who Masters Magic: Ch. 7One Who Masters Magic: Ch. 71 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chaos in the Tower
There is always tension between the various schools of magic. The mages resent the wizards for being stronger. The alchemists covet the charmers for their ability to work magic into objects. The prophets and seers resent all of the other schools for their being locked away. It is a never ending circle of rivalries and hatred that has existed since civilization was formed.
Lord Vatoor of South Equab
Tower of Estar
Kingdom of Terula
Among the most recognizable structures in the capital city of Terula was the mighty Tower of Estar, where prophecies were made. While the Wizard's College in the southern part of the city was famed for its vast size, the prophets looked down upon the massive urban sprawl around them from the tallest structure in all of the city. The tower, constructed entirely out of black basalt and trimmed in shining steel that ran throughout the structure like veins of silvery blood. At
The KeyCut from diamondsThe Key1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Clear and cold
Gilt in silver
On a chain of gold
Not just gems
It's plain to see
Upon a golden chain
Hangs a diamond key
It unlocks my heart
And all it contains
My joy and my cares,
My love and my pains
The key was mine
But with no more ado
I present it now
As a gift, to you