Orpheus and Eurydice story: A retellingI Am what I am.
In your world ones like me cannot be seen anymore. We are looked upon as lumber or paper. Fodder for your fireplaces and splinters to pick your teeth.
I am a dryad, a wood nymph, or forest faery.
However you wish to think of me, I am what I am.
What I am is dead.
I swirl around in the underworld in my own private torment for all time with no hope of being set free. Not anymore at least. Maybe I should start at the beginning. The same place I go back to day in and day out to relive over and over again. See, this is my private hell. To see my life, my hopes, my dreams flutter away on the wind like a butterfly's wings. That
Little Black BookConscience was my killer;Little Black Book1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Little black book of fate;
I stored each name
In colours of shame
And preserved the sinful date.
Skeletons in the closet;
Corpses in the yard;
All I did want
In my fell haunt
Was a faded tarot card.
NaPoWriMo Day 7His bare throat is ivory married in flesh.NaPoWriMo Day 71 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Soft his lips shiver in susurrous breaths.
Candlelit jewels drain nighttime's caress.
What temple laid does Death not undress?
LW-Ch5-A Lords Ransom in a Pig's Ear Purse The chamber above the back room of the ‘Black Horse’ was not as well appointed as the man’s social standing might have demanded. But what they lacked in opulence they made up with nostalgia and practicality. For this was the garden from which all his wealth had grown.LW-Ch5-A Lords Ransom in a Pig's Ear Purse2 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Oh he made good coin trading in cloth and spices, and his barges were often perilous close to the water line when they departed and returned to the port of Boston. That business was run from a dock front set of offices that were set up to dis[play his wealth and impress those that might bid for his services. On the surface he appeared to be on the up and up,
Long Winter pt48 “Troubles Nymph?”Long Winter pt483 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ace of Knives.
Queen of Winters.
“Damsel of Mid Winter?”
Three of Shields.
“Calamity of Caledonia?”
And a Jack of Summers.
Shamus took another look at the hand of cards he had placed against the table, lifting them up just enough to see the faces and values etched into them. As a winning hand for a game of Thrones, it was lacking a few things to make it perfect: one of them being a winning set of cards. The ace of Knives counter acted the value of the queen of Winter, and that card tripled the value of the jack of Summer. As for the three
Long Winter pt43 The longboat rocked gently as it navigated the treacherous air currents above Boston Citadel, though its passengers didn’t seem to mind.Long Winter pt433 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Lord Garth tapped his forehead hard against the armoured glass view port had been peering out of, and muttered a brief curse beneath his lips at his own foolishness. For such an occasion as this he should really attempt to act the part of a leader of men, some towering all power colossi that could decide a man’s fate with but a flick of the wrist. And normally that would have been the case, had the view provided to him of his city not been so mesmerising. He had of course seen his city from th
Vainglory 1He had this easy breezy voice, talked slow and calm with the slightest hint of a mumble.Vainglory 14 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Grandma been havin' 'nother boy over. She's peakin' through t'em windows all shifty-eyed," he drawled.
Then he came into view. Emem Ahn saw a young man betraying false stereotypes of the men of the sea. Half-human, half-mer with only a trace of pointed ears compared to the elongated ones and shimmering scaled bodies the full breed Sea Aina were known for. Arms and legs, thought to be long and lithe, stretched short over the arms of a sofa-chair in full view of the old woman across the street.
"Mar, have you been spying on the neighbors again?" Emem's
DES-Second Strike 5.1 "They say there is no proof that New Africa has a ongoing research and development program into biological technologies and weapons. They say that what 'so called' proof there is, is circumstantial, and easily contradicted by something they call 'facts'. Here is a fact for you: God never created a virus that could kill an entire village in days, but was unable to spread further than that regardless of direct exposure by outside hosts. God doesn't just create something that wipes out Joe but leaves Larry and Curly alone. A man with a gun does that. New Africa does that."DES-Second Strike 5.17 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Dr Felicity Knight, PhD Epidemiology, Deputy Director of the South Paci
new sincerityeverything bluring into a meaningless buzznew sincerity8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
when it is everything I am against
this buzz of anesthetics
they are the banal details that are life-and-death
and I want a new sincerity
because we're all psychopaths
we're all broken
we've all got all the emotional-psych disorders
most of us just learn to dampen those noises
well if you'll be my little lie
wow I am in constant awe of this amazing beautiful world
and you are beautiful
tandem bikes are amazing
bourbon ice cream not so much
I Let A Stranger InWhen I was unoccupied, I was flawless,I Let A Stranger In8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a thing of immaculate charm, an unblemished structure.
When I was empty, I was at peace.
But I was naïve and left my doors unlocked,
and one silent morning,
I let a stranger in.
He was a broken man,
wounded. I pitied him.
So I sheltered him and began to share his pain.
A medley of panic and curiosity
coursed through the depths of me
as his feeble sobs resonated through my interior.
The voice rattled my windows,
shook dust from the woodwork.
My floor boards moaned like an old man dying.
His fingers raked across my bowels, then,
uprooting paper flowers in their wake.
His acid tears
WIPtime itself is a bombWIP9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
corroding our hopes 'til naught but skeletons remain,
slamming our faith to the groundlife's essence leaking steadily,
thrashing our dreams into submission (subjugated before reality)
tic tic tic
the clocks hands shift
each click shooting bullets of doom
aimed toward the mind of modern society
ricocheting through the mind to the heart.soul.spirit
murdering spirit with ruthless hands, while soul is
systematically destroyed, colors bleeding from the depths as
heart rips in twoa single jagged line forming the fracture.
tic tic tic
to: each other.For most, twenty-one is when your life is just beginning - but that is when a significant part of mine had ended....to: each other.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
together we ignited a spark so special. but for months one of us seemed to burn brighter than the other, and now - even at eighteen - it's as if we're too far burned for either of us to even flicker....
or too far burned to care at all. In the time that has past, I have become a drifter.
I've drifted from one relationship to the next with little to no attachment. My time spent with them is short and meaningless. It terrifies me to think that I may never find that spark with another.
it's so wretchedly dry living in this ash
Mars 2 Life, and Life 2 Mars (2) He's been waiting in line for two hours before he got to the immigration booth.Mars 2 Life, and Life 2 Mars (2)9 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The bored immigration officer looked to her right once more, her eyes flickering subliminally fast over her screen as she plundered it for the one little wrinkle of a lie that would show him up as a fraud, and then looked back at him. She was so generic in her stereotypical appearance that John Carter decided she must have had at least a little sculpting done. He could see it in his mind eye, a beautiful Eurasian woman with a heart shaped face walking into a sculpting saloon with a little cut out photo and saying 'I want to look like the Peoples Saint Mao'.
Left BehindOne solitary being,Left Behind9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That was him,
He, who stood alone,
With a stare colder than the feeling of a cutting breeze,
After a mild summer dip in a grass tinted lake,
From a crystal skinned child,
Whose innocence was stripped away,
By someone whose pain,
Was too pathetic for a single person,
To the empty carcass of a man,
He became like a broken wind chime,
Flowing in the almost nonexistent wind,
That, at another point in time,
Could indeed make sonorous celebration,
Could indeed have become something of beauty,
But fell into one unfortunate life,
And yet still remains, waving from its spot,
Hung down on an elderly woman's cottage
The Promise Flash.The Promise9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
People running around. The beach, once a haven of peace, is now distorted by faces of terror, by humans running around in sheer fear. Their pleas fill the air, their screams echo meaninglessly over the sand and the vast ocean. It is such a beautiful day. The water is clear, the sun is shining and there are specks of clouds high up in the sky, momentarily spending shadow from the sun should its light be too hot. The sand under my feet is warm, but not unnecessarily hot. I enjoy plunging my feet into it. It feels my with calm, with reason. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore w
Lady of the NightHer Thin lips painted blood red,Lady of the Night10 months ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Glazed eyes seeking an escape.
She doesn't stir as I cross the caution tape.
I know her face
Because I've seen her around,
But not because I used her; this trampled rose on the ground.
Dark clouds approached
As she waited for warmth by the corner,
But none of her lovers' have appeared to morn her.
Beaten and bruised,
She would return crying.
Theres only so much one soul can take before it starts dying.
She flew from the top.
Now, a dead bird in the street.
Her cries are silenced as she lays at my feet.
A deep red sea
Surrounds her pale face,
A crimson colored tear in the fabric of space.
I Am Not A ShrinkThere is a dryness about youI Am Not A Shrink10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A desiccated crackling and rustle
Your mind quiet heat lightning
Surfacing thoughts burst into flame
Your body vibrates and lurches
Seething with imagined assaults
A fortress repelling all compassion
Unwanted and unnecessary
What surgical strike hit home?
Or was it little drops of water
until you could take no more
of this mad world?
I so wish help was forthcoming, but
the same mean world made us all
Survival alone, a poor substitute for living
Life is so much more than not being dead
a mild case of deathless depression.we weren't the most fearless, thrilling pair -a mild case of deathless depression.10 months ago in Personal More Like This
you and your doubt made sure of that.
yet pathetically, there's not much I wouldn't have wanted to do
do not get the wrong impression.
spineless or effeminate i was not.
naive and impulsive, perhaps.
a poor investor, definitely.
melancholia has made me limp,
i'm numb with regret,
and despite my anger, i have somehow been left cold.
the words i try to put together don't appear to make sense.
they don't join as intimately as the two they refer to did.
they're meant to reflect how i, more than anything, crave happiness
just not necessarily for us anymore.
Sunset Breakdown Human consciousness drawn into a boxSunset Breakdown10 months ago in Scraps More Like This
of molecules and atoms and talents we've lost.
Midnight carries my nervous thoughts:
"If this is alive, God made me wrong."
As I ponder and wonder why
We The CursedBreathless night, warm is theWe The Cursed10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Darkness in here, silent wooded corner,
No one around, no one to sound,
Darkness within here, humid breath in humid time.
They cannot touch you, they will not understand you,
A new meaning becomes of this, change,
But the same as years before, in scriptures and song,
Nothing lost and much learned.
Although she is gone, you stand proud,
Of all the things you know, in this deep night,
It becomes you, it lives within you,
As humid breath surges in plumes like ink in water,
And they cannot touch you, they cannot see you.
I have held the meaning in my hands,
In the cool rains in winter, on the sid
TIMON OF ATHENSAn odd strangerTIMON OF ATHENS10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
destined to hate
an even stranger place
Some son of God
like a pit-bound race car
too hastily downshifted
turning rubber into syphilistic
A bad day to sideswipe
a disenchanted rainbow
festooned in the fine fur
straitjacket of myth-stamped
jealous of Joseph's sublime
A churlish day
Solid sun's litter of colours
hater of fate
poised to retaliate
through the shallowest
possible burrow of its
aureate trophy-wife booty
A rough ride modestly
hides in earth's irony
waiting for a freedom rider
of the most pa
Stainless PityStainless Pity11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Great War was the most horrid and terrible conflict I have ever witnessed. The grotesque warfare involving that of the trenches, the attacks from the airplanes above, the destruction of ships with torpedoes, even the science of chemistry had been abused during this time. To worsen the already demonic circumstances, I was an army doctor.
In the June of 1914, I was once again stationed in the land of South Africa. To be precise, a hundred kilometers from the golden city of Johannesburg. If you may recall, my prior stay in South Africa was during the Second Boer War. When I encountered the curious incident of the hounds
Night time thoughts.Junk food and cigarettes and beer,Night time thoughts.11 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Keeping me happy in a world of fear.
Note pads and pens are what I use to unwind and open out to,
Most people never know, they have no clue.
Opinions and trends have taken hold,
How to live isn't something you can be told.
I've always been scared of the future, I blame that most from having a computer.
Nothing seems to make sense anymore, any direction I take leads to a locked door.
For now I'll leave this as it is written,
Re-write it when I'm older and less smitten
Editing Terrors VHopefully I haven't lost count by now. Regardless, The recent finish on my project has propelled me to two small bits I have overlooked for awhile now. I noticed it about 30% of the way in, so I have some additional parts to check and clean up. I predicting about 5 to 10 days to finish a final sweep of the piece, starting this evening. First I'm going to make a quick sweep through my poetry collection and see if it needs some amending as well. Should only take a few hours.Editing Terrors V11 months ago in Personal More Like This
One tip I say to those in spot of the writing process, never let doubt become your expression. Everything is rough to a point, and critical eyes can spot imperfections in many facets of a piece. While the acclaim of your work is the ultimate goal, it will not come without a a tarnishing of distrust and a few "thumbs down." Ultimately, you have the choice to be the harshest critic of yourself, before the rest of the world comes in, or to become the most reliable source of criticism. Learning to give your work the bene
puzzle no. 108i am so afraidpuzzle no. 10811 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the day i'll
that you are just
that it's in my
and let it live
i'll just bite my tongue
and hope the bleeding will be