The KrakenThe Kraken3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your life is a boat
Wandering the desolate seas.
But then nothing.
Until the heavens open.
The seas waves grow and grow
Hitting your mast,
What guides you
pulling you on your right path.
In the dark deep waters
Lurks a demon.
A demon so big
It will swallow you whole.
until your last dying breath.
Your worst enemy.
It will wrap its deadly tentacles around you.
Squeeze away your pleading scream.
It's your life's worst enemy.
A fairytaleI have treasures and jewelsA fairytale4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Anything a man could desire
Glimmering gold and shinning silver,
Ruby rich rings and crystal crowns
There is something though,
Something that mortal men value
I think they call her,
Maybe if I take her
The people might be nice to me
Lands worship me,
For I am more precious
Than any metal
I don't do much yet
People love me
On another boring day
It bursts through.
It takes me
And flies far, far away
From my safe castle.
How dare it take our princess!
Taking our gold, burn our villages
But this time
This time it has gone too far.
Do not worry my princess
For I shall save you
If you just hang on.
I think she is scared of me
But who wouldn't be?
I took her from her home,
I breathe fire,
I am full of claws and teeth
Maybe I should take her back
I just want a friend though.
IT maybe isn't so bad.
IT brings me food,
And doesn't hurt me
I just want to go home though.
I burst through the cave wall
You shall not hurt our princess!
I shout, valiant a
Honorary Jack Frost dayQuietly, a young man with brown hair and a long flowing coat walked through the forest. He happily kicked around piles of snow, snapping frozen twigs under his shoes and tearing up the grass.Honorary Jack Frost day3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Hovering above him was another young man, this one much younger in appearance, who wielded a frost covered stick in one hand and a snowball in the other. With a large grin, he threw the snowball and hit his target directly on the head.
Hey, if you were going to come into his territory, you might as well pay the price.
The man looked up at the sky, shaking snow and water from his hair. Shivering, he shook his coat, keeping his eyes trained on the sky the whole time. Jack, the hovering boy, let loose a cheerful laugh which rang through the forest. He didn’t think twice about it; there was no chance that anyone would hear him, so why worry?
But the man underneath him persisted, squinting up at Jack until his laughter faded and his smile switched into one of complete fascination.
DawnDawn3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
How dawns the morn so very bright and bold
that night's dark face can only turn away;
and all our dreams in sunlit skies are sold
as eventide gives pardon to the day.
She feels the cloak of dreams unclasp their sway
and fading softly spun into the gold,
that she will rise from sleep and make her way
ere morning grows another second old.
Brush the Sky~Brush the Sky~Brush the Sky6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When I entered hell
the demons all had wings of black
slick and ridged and shining
graceful on their backs
When I entered heaven
the angels' wings were white
glistening and soft and smooth
spreading wide in flight
When I entered the forest
the fairies watched me pass
their colorful wings aflutter
shining mosaics of glass
But the wings I hide are dreary
and monotonously grey
they gape with holes and broken bones
in a lifeless sort of way
If I pretend that nothing's wrong
as I fly with damaged wings
Perhaps will all that hurts me
turn into better things
Spiral staircase to somewhere
they say you'll touch the sky
but I can't even brush the clouds
with wings that will not fly
Grave RosesDon't rest roses on my grave,Grave Roses3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
trail of bouquet that you pave.
Vibrant death, ignorantly conveyed,
leading too, my buried cave.
What flowers, my love, have you brought today?
Soil in dead eyes, all to grainy.
Memory waning, soon to forget.
A bold quartet, pedals of debt.
Ah, a rose?
Don't mask your woe, we both know,
I am gone, grown so cold.
Fading marrow, in my bones.
Corpse alone, parted soul.
May I love, be so bold?
let your heart bleed,
forever sorrow, forever grieve.
Let me be.
And on my grave, let grow weeds.
Don't rest roses on my grave.
Becoming BrianThe soldier coming up on him was swaying, limping, climbing wearily up the stony street towards the terrace. He walked like an old man, thought Brian Strong, though he was scarcely older than Brian himself. He dragged himself along, tripping over the cracks in the cobblestones, hauling behind him a filthy rucksack all covered in gray trench clay. Pausing by the café, the old boy took off his garrison cap and worried it between his black-tipped fingers.Becoming Brian4 years ago in Historical More Like This
"Well, hey," said Brian Strong. "Sit down and have a drink on me."
Regarding him for a moment, the soldier conceded and sat.
Brian Strong ran his hands over a perfectly polished uniform and propped his shiny-shoed feet up on the trumpet case under his table. The fellow soldier opposite him rested his head on his hand and, though his eyes seemed hollow, Brian thought with a good night's sleep and a shave he'd be right as rain. He looked like a man who had seen things, thought Brian, and done things. A worldly man. He saw now that t
Some Extremely short storiesA collection of extremely short storiesSome Extremely short stories7 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
Pulling treasure from the dusty rubble, the old man works with feverish anticipation in the cool shade of a great city. Old plastic bags, warped bottles, priceless treasures flowing through his worn hands. Grey buildings, the skeletons of a civilization, rise hollow to the dark sky around him, the dim sun falling in an arc across their empty windows. And the warm, dank breeze that rises from the river soothes his ancient skin. Memories, hidden from light beneath the detritus of an age, sift through his fingers, rising to the surface.
This city was mine. I watched, from windblown spires of glass and metal, as the great stone bridges were built over the river, green water sparkling in the modern sun. My world will rise again, and the corpses of scavengers will pave the road beneath my feet. I join the old man in his efforts.
A sea of clouds extends to the horizon, like an endless flock of bizarre, white birds beyond the windows of the plane. A
atonementI want you to know I'm sorry.atonement6 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I never thought about how much I have to be sorry for until I was up all night and far too early in the morning from a Thursday to a Friday, and couldn't fall asleep because my heart was hammering and thundering and seizing with a regret sort of panic. I called you across six hundred and eighty three miles and an ocean of guilt and whispered I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry a thousand times into the receiver until I had no voice and you were saying my name through an accent of sleep and telling me I have nothing to be sorry about. But I do.
I'm sorry I didn't write you the most beautiful love song in the world. I'm sorry my fingers can't play the guitar to bring cities to colour and do better by you even though that's what you deserve. I'm sorry I can only play four-string chords and sing too softly for you to hear over the guitar. I have clumsy fingers and bashful vocal chords and an ineloquent tongue but I promise that every beat of this heart is for you,
Paper ButterfliesA cut, a tear, a fold,Paper Butterflies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slice of color and a cut or two,
and another paper butterfly is born.
IV drips in the hand
keeping everything in place
while the cuts and tears and folds
keeps going on.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
That's the number
she was told to make.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
Until she can get a wish.
A nice nurse had told her so,
and shown her how to make them
but she had only made thirty out of the
one thousand, six hundred and sixty six
It seemed like such an impossible number
that one thousand six hundred and sixty six
but our patient needed that wish
just like everyone else,
in that hospital that our patient was at.
Her wish though
was not what someone expects
from our patient who will not last much longer.
is for her family to be happy when she's gone
and that they won't miss her to much
and that they will find someone else
after she has gone.
isn't to stay
and to get better
because she knows
that it won'
eight things about growing up.eighteight things about growing up.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I told my brother I was going to be a fairy when I grew up. Or a bird, or sprite something with wings so I could touch the clouds.
I learned that fairies weren't real when I was six, after I tried to jump off a parking structure to see if I could fly.
That day I also broke my leg in three places and saw an angel's face in the clouds. (And don't tell anybody, but sometimes I spend all day looking for him.)
My neighbors back in Denver had a son who was a schizophrenic. After he went off his meds for the third time, he painted the windows red and told his wife she had to abort their baby because it wasn't human.
A year later, I heard that he was arrested after pointing a hunting rifle on his family. It was loaded, but he didn't pull the trigger because his mother said she trusted him.
I guess love is kind of like that, too.
Seattle didn't come until I was fifteen, in October.
My family and I took a boat ride on Friday. We listened to the captain
InsanityWhy must I continue to fight?Insanity5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why can't I just run away?
Why won't my legs let me run?
I want to be a coward, a coward....
I can't run away from my fears.
My destiny will not control me.
I shouldn't run away, I shouldn't run away.
I must stand, I must fight.
Charging onto the battlefield,
Dashing through the enemy,
A wave of destruction spreading in my wake.
I'll destroy all who stand in my way.
Yes, all will be destroyed.
I will destroy it all with my own hands.
Nothing will stop me now.
I shall wipe them all from existence.
What have I done?...
I've destroyed all I've hated.
But also all I've loved.
I have nothing left to lose.
I do not care anymore.
Hot blood flows through my body.
Millions of thoughts race in my mind.
I cannot make sense of it all.
There is no one there.
Everyone's gone, all gone.
Have they left me, or have I left them.
Or were they ever even here at all?
EMO is notEMO is notEMO is not5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
EMO is not
Or hating the world because it doesn't revolve around you
Not locking your door
Or a type of music
EMO is not a person
A feeling of being completely alone
It is not hate the world for not revolving around you
It's hating yourself for not for not being seen by anyone in the world
Not hating the world
Emo means Emotional
Not hate or goth
But the ability to feel and see yourself
And be able to express yourself
Wearing black because you feel you're not part of a set pack
Why?Why?4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Why did Einstein create such equations?
Why is Math full of calculations?
And why does English need so many punctuations?
Why is there a need to study
Math, Physics and Chemistry?
The very thought of it, makes a student's life history!
When the black and white paper finally arrives,
the time-table for examinations,
it causes tension and irritation.
No parties, no excursion.
Only mugging up, slogging and exhaustion.
The definition of an awful week of preparation.
When comes the last day of examination,
it is an occasion for celebration!
But, when the results reach home,
it's time for a brief explanation...
IV.Like a window.IV.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can see you.
I can speak to you.
All of you.
That's all I can do.
I can't be there.
I can't hear you either, sometimes.
I'll always have you in my pocket, although I can't touch you.
Always updating, always new versions of you at any moments notice.
But then the day I look for you, and you're gone.
It strikes me at first, and then the bigger picture sets in.
You'll never change again.
You'll never speak again.
Everyone talks to you, but you never answer.
I've said my piece, knowing I would never get an answer.
Hoping you were watching.
Weeks go by, and you're still not talking, although everyone speaks to you.
And that moment hits me again.
You'll never see us grow again.
You'll never breathe again.
I put you back into my pocket.
I know I'll come back.
I know nothing will change.
When I come home, I'll see you.
But everything will be the same.
I can see you.
I can speak to you.
But you'll never change again.
And you'll never speak again.
I paused just now, just for you
For a Girl in the Messinese languageFor a GirlFor a Girl in the Messinese language3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Prou ena Nina
Prou en' nina tanto hormosa
ániman emóu vou na dá
en cutiyou cun dio yamnou
emóu carziá intraba.
Men me mirá; sto yorans,
e cantandon ce cuaisou,
tou gauzia 'mou e tanto gran
non tá possou supportá.
Men tá gauzia 'sou tenei tou, hica
prou ei auba cuomo chia,
mage abè en' osscurio hica
cuai cremaroun a carziá 'mou.
For a Girl
For the girl so beautiful
I would give my soul
a double-edged knife
piercing my heart.
Don't look at me; I am crying,
it is singing that I want,
my joy is but so great
I cannot bear it.
Don't withhold your joy, young girl,
for you are white like snow
but there's a darker girl,
who set fire to my heart.
Zombie Survival GuideZombie Survival GuideZombie Survival Guide9 years ago in Horror More Like This
Daniel H@#&- Demented One
A common staple in many B-movies, Zombies are often depicted as taking over the world. Having watched many of those movies I have decided to compile my own Zombie Survival Guide after reading the one at Kuro5hin.org. This guide will be posted in many places I know of so that if anyone comments I will be able to make a better one later. To date I have not read Max Brook's Zombie Survival Guide, though I intend to. As for the debate I've seen on the Fast Zombies vs. Slow Zombies, this guide is written with Slow Zombies in mind, for if they are really dead bodies they would have series body control issues, and under the assumption that the outbreak is a large one that would last several years at least.
Preparation: (what you did for Y2K)
If you are already preparing for a Zombie invasion, lets face it; you don't need this guide, and are probably a little crazy, like me. Preparing for a Zombie i
Hobbit - Little Acts of HeroismDwarves couldn’t swim, Bilbo had been surprised to discover.Hobbit - Little Acts of Heroism3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
There were a great many things which, although they seemed quite natural to the dwarves, initially mystified the little Hobbit. Their method of greeting each other by smashing their skulls together was only the first incident in which he became aware of their unfamiliar customs. He quickly discovered more over the next few days of travelling and, in the privacy of his head; he wryly conceded that Gandalf had been right. The world was most certainly not in his books. To be entirely truthful, he learned more about the peoples of Middle Earth from one talk with the well-educated and surprisingly chatty Dori, than he had done in his entire life up until that point.
Needless to say, Dwalin’s nipple-ring had been a major eye-opener and even now the company liked to do impressions of Bilbo’s squeak of surprise upon noticing it. Bifur’s injury too had alarmed him, although in truth the axe firmly lodged in his
of glass and ashesa hound of glassof glass and ashes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
frozen in time,
to move forward --
to find its
place in a
El caballero de plata y el arco negro del cieloH no se movió de su escondrijo entre los arbustos a pesar de que se le empezaban a clavar molestas espinas en la espalda.El caballero de plata y el arco negro del cielo4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Llevaba largo rato contemplando al caballero de plata. Su peculiar armadura (decorada profusamente con grabados de batallas y conquistas acontecidos centenares de años atrás), aparentaba estar hecha de una sola pieza. Su forma también era especial: parecía estar dentro de un destelleante cilindro y cuando se movía lo hacía siempre con movimientos rígidos y bruscos.
Sin embargo, desde poco después de llegar H a la colina, el caballero de plata había estado totalmente inmóvil, con la cabeza levantada hacia lo alto, observando el cielo fijamente desde la parte más alta de la colina. Miraba por encima de la inmensa bandada de cisnes tristes, incluso por encima del arco negro, a la luna.
H tenía ya las piernas entumecidas cuando apareció al pie de la c
Slow DanceSlow DanceSlow Dance3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Have you ever
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to
slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a
butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into a
You better slow down
Time is short.
Do you run through each day
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear
When the day is done
do you lie
with the next hundred chores
The music won't
Ever told your
We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
not see his
let a good
never had time
and say "Hi"
better slow down
The music won't
When you run
so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of get