The Frog PrinceTime stands still in this damp and dark well. I cannot tell you how long I have possibly been in this Hell; maybe days or maybe years. I do have memories of my past life though they come in quick and sharp flashes of faces, places, and even events. I cannot remember my name; I cannot remember where I came from. I do not know who sired or who birthed me; I dont even know what my face looks like.The Frog Prince6 years ago in Horror More Like This
All I know is this: I was once human and now I am not. Instead, I am nothing but a common a common frog, an amphibious little abomination living in the dank water and living off the crunchy insects that make the fatal mistake of falling into my little haven. As if to mock my agony, though, I still think like a human; I still feel those little human emotions and yearn for human things. I lament; I rage; I would cry if I had the tears. My only comfort in this dank little hole is that there is a hole above me, shining with almost holy light.
This day, I w
80 things learned from TolkienPretty, shiny things are hazardous to your health.80 things learned from Tolkien5 years ago in Humor More Like This
This is because the Law of Attraction is multiplied 100x once you look at them
Hobbits state the overly obvious
Chocolate is nonexistent in Middle-Earth.
Arwen stole Glorfindel's horse.
Beer and Tobacco seem to have a beneficial effect on hobbits
Never make fires in questionable caves
Kick a troll, and your foot will break
Elvish accents are low and whispery
Never sleep in a boat if your Dad is a Pyromaniac
Don't give twins the exact same name
Imitating voices can come in handy
Running at your brother with a sword and shouting at him in old-fashioned language will get you a big time-out
Really, really big dogs are very useful
Being good at riddles can save your life
Giant spiders freak out elves big-time
Elrond should have pushed Isildur into the crack of doom
Sauron once got pwned by a girl
If you insult any of Tùrin's female relatives, you will find yourself impaled on a rock at the bottom of a raging river.
Speaking of w
What are they....What are they....2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
You don't know me right now, but trust me, I look just like you!
Let me tell you about myself!
I'm a boy, that has brown hair, and blue eyes just like you mommy!
You don't know me but when you figure out who I am, I bet you well be proud and happy!
Today you told daddy about your little tube that appeared a cross after you urinated.
You seemed to be surprised to me!
When you told dad he seemed angry.
I don't think you noticed though.
You said later that night that you enjoyed and loved me so.
I love you too Mommy!
The next day, daddy had a weird smell in his mouth... He punched you.
And he hurt you. I heard your heart that soothed me to sleep, is now beating really fast!
I got scared. You jumped back and put your hands on me to protect me.
I don't like daddy. He is scary. The other day he came up to you and apologized.
I still think he is a bad man. When I grow up, I will make sure no one will hurt you!
Tonight, you didn't talk to me or touch me, or even sing. You usually do,
Trouble in Paradise"Adam..."Trouble in Paradise3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"You're not my type."
Arriving in ParisOh shit! I forgot my husband.Arriving in Paris4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
IcarusWho are you, and what am I?Icarus7 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
Remember me? I touched the sky
I flew too hard and burned too fast
Dreams like mine, they just don't last
I touched the sun on feathered limbs
I satisfied my wildest whims
But I burnt out, and I fell down
My body wasn't ever found
But don't remember me for how I failed
I embody all the dreams that've sailed
So who are you, and what am I?
Remember me? I wasn't afraid to fly.
_Eclipse_Artemis strode down the marble hall, sandals flapping on the cool stone tiles. Her robes swirled around her feet, catching at her ankles. She was fuming. This had gone on for quite long enough._Eclipse_7 years ago in Humor More Like This
Father! she cried, bursting into one of the halls, I want to talk to you!
Zeus groaned from his place on the chaise lounge, resplendent in golden robes. Is this about that silver stag of yours? Because Ive told you, the humans will not stop chasing it until they find something else to chase-
Artemis sighed, rolling her eyes. No, Daddy, its not that. Its Apollo. He keeps gloating that he has more time in the sky than I do. She slouched against one of the nearby columns. And hes right! All I get to do is ride in my moon ch
The Serial KillerHer blue eyes made exquisite trophies.The Serial Killer2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
O sing, museI fell asleep once with my memory caughtO sing, muse11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in tadpoles and roses and water and light,
in the mausoleum where bloodshot eyes
And paper meet (where ideas drop from nubby pencils,
to splay, stillborn, across a sea of white).
My pen bled circles
through my desk that night.
When I woke, you were standing
on the edge of my sight,
your eyelids trailing ink.
I watched your hands fold in and out,
The smell of words too strong to think.
You smiled at me and let me fall
into the promise of your face.
There I read snowflakes, sea-foam and angels;
flashes of of glory and splinters of grace.
I asked you in, and your words behind -
'Sing, muse, of roses and water and light,'
I was fool enough to call them mine -
My pen bled circles
through my desk that night.
shoot me upshoot me up, take me back down, leave me here a while and i'm sure i will feel loved again; sometime in the next five hours i'll wake up and remember you and everything might be okay.shoot me up4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
until then hang out the washing and take care of my daughter, pretend like i'm sleeping because i'm tired and look in on me every five minutes just to make sure, because you can't be anymore. it's deathday my love, and i thought when i'd die it would be on an elegant bed with velvet covers and my family gathered all around me but that's not what it is, it's me lying on the sofa because i can't walk anymore and you can't carry me up two flights of stairs; it's me unconscious because it's too painful for me to be awake; it's me too scared to tell my family and in the end they'll find out after i'm gone already; it's me not ready, oh god i'm not ready to die i'm not.
memories pierce through my dreams but not where i can see them. my eyesight left me a while ago, i can't remember when exactly beca
Children's Literature, Morality + Changing IdealsIntroductionChildren's Literature, Morality + Changing Ideals2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
With the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century, and its gradual integration into society, people at last had access to literature. It was William Caxton who first saw the opportunity to make money by printing and selling those stories and fables hitherto told by word of mouth.
At this time, literature did not have age-specific target audiences. Inevitably, some stories appealed to children more than others. Robin Hood was especially popular, while Aesop's fables offered entertainment and life lessons to adults and children alike.
It is, of course, impossible to say exactly when and how literature was identified as a useful tool in teaching morality to children. It is speculated that there was no concept of 'childhood' before the eighteenth century, although historians debate this, as historians are apt to do. Whatever one's view on this, it cannot be denied that the older generation has throug
MI-Winds of Change: Chapter 6Winds of Change-A Monsters, Inc. fanficMI-Winds of Change: Chapter 62 years ago in Romance More Like This
"How do you feel this morning, Randy?" Vanessie greeted this morning. She was early to work again, and Randall, too, came at the same time as yesterday, just a few minutes later than her. The laugh floor occupied two other assistants as well, minding their own business.
"I feel a bit tense," Randall said honestly with a half-grin. "But I think I can do this."
"Great. I know it's early, but I wish you luck." Vanessie winked.
"Thanks. I need all the encouragement I can get."
Randall took a chair and sat next to Vanessie. He noticed when he came in that she was working on something, but looking at her now, she wasn't doing any paperwork. He loomed his head over enough to not have her notice and cocked his head to the side to get an even better look.
Vanessie was drawing something. It looked interesting, but he could not make it out.
"Enjoy what you see?" he heard Vanessie say.
Randall leaned back to his chair and asked, "How did you
108 Poems On The Process of ForgivingCRADLE ROCKED108 Poems On The Process of Forgiving2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When the pond was smashed
by his clenched fist..
it became a cradle rocking
for little fish.
Anger is the ore for lovegold.
Is the painting less beautiful
because it's a forgery of Van Gogh's?
Is sunset lakemirrored less awesome
because not originally lake glows
Does the moon deny in the night
that unstolen is her light?
THE RIVER TARRIES NOT
The river tarries not
over the stones of karma.
To seaward joyfully running
is her destiny's dharma
TECUMSEH MUSEUM ON A HIGH HILL
A Tecumseh museum .. on a high
hill.. full of axes, scalps
Someone enters and
walks around opening all
light pours in
One is then
aware.. only of the
And from the high hill
distance one sees puffs
from many chimneys.. all
smoking the pipes of peace.
(Native Americans had much
more to forgive than colonists,
in writers's humble opinion)
CONNECT THE DOTS
When I asked my father not to fish
I did not connect to the meat on my plate.
When I saw the film
Amber in the Belly"Amber in the Belly": An exiled priest finds hope in a strange, scaly place. Fantasy, 5300 words.Amber in the Belly3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Amber in the Belly
Caroling from the drunken revelers at the Broken Goat burst through the air as the pub's door slammed open. Damon sidestepped a crowd of partyers as they spilled out, one man spinning a chime wheel wildly above his head. The door shut again, closing on the stench of spilled beer and overheated humanity. The group tottered off, no doubt towards the next pub down the lane. Damon stuffed his hands deeper into his coat pockets and tucked his nose into his scarf. Home was ten minutes away.
Vendors called out to him as he passed. Hawking last minute presents and decorations for tomorrow's celebration, their fingers showed pink through the cut-off tips of their gloves, their faces ruddy above swathes of scarves. He wanted to ignore them all, but the little carts with savory, hot food atop their steaming grills made his stomach growl. Damon paused at a cart selling fried
Kobieta Super SamotnaKobieta samotna to kobieta bez partnera? Czy może kobieta bez rodziny? A czemu tak powszechne nie jest powiedzenie "samotny mężczyzna"? Zastanawiała się Klara popijając popołudniową kawkę. Bardziej wolała słowo "singielka", taka kolejna, fajna amerykanizacja. Ani to samotna, ani panna, po prostu singielka.Kobieta Super Samotna2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Będę się nazywać kobietą solo. Ta nowa myśl wywołała niespodziewany uśmiech. Niekoniecznie chciała być sama. Po prostu kolejny związek nie wyszedł, pewnie za dużo oczekiwała albo...
- Albo znowu poznałaś jakiegoś beznadziejnego ciula - dokończyła Hanka.
Hanka miała zadziwiającą zdolność czytania w jej myślach odkąd wpadły na siebie. Dosłownie wbiegły na siebie podczas robienia kolejnych bezsensownych zakupów.
Klara nawet nie odpowiedziała. Bez sentymentalnego we
Does it loose meaning?If I say I'm sorryDoes it loose meaning?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
does it change a thing?
Would to keep saying
that one word be demeaning?
To say it today
and then say it the next
to say it again and again
does it not loose meaning?
Should I say that one-
for just a small taste of:
anger, annoyance, bitterness,
a raised voice in a sentence?
Should I say I'm sorry?
RememberRecall reflections, rippled watersRemember5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
now bone-bare dirt and sundried sand.
Remember yellows, blues and reds
whose silken surface softly skimmed
cool water, beneathe trembling hands.
Rethink the way your waters run;
flow with yourself, your soul, your skin.
Renew that day you fell in love
with something better than you'd known,
tango with rain, waltz with the wind.
Remember now, as you did then;
In Her Safe PlaceHer thoughts leave her headIn Her Safe Place3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What she did sent her here
Lying on her bed
Some blood but no fear
Air fills her chest
Calm on her face
This feeling is the best
In her safe place.
Je Suis Comme Vous Etes You are beautiful.Je Suis Comme Vous Etes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Even when water rushes out your womb
And your younger days lie scattered behind you,
Like so many pieces of an ancient puzzle.
I want to put you back together,
But I am only your daughter.
And that puzzle... Well, it's got a lot of pieces.
You are beautiful.
You take my words, say they are generous,
Place them gently in grandma's stories.
You're trying to reinvent them, you say,
But they always come back different,
Like your father after the war.
At least the stories talk.
You are beautiful.
These days won't last forever,
And they're here to give some meaning
To who you are and what I will become.
My hopes for you add to your dreams for me
And we lie back to listen to the walls breathe.
You say it reminds you of your mortality,
But I know otherwise.
Jar of DreamsShe collected her dreams,Jar of Dreams3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one by one in these glass jars.
She had a giant collection sitting,
always sitting on a bunch of shelves-
they were tucked away between books
and lost underneath papers, hidden away.
Sometimes she would take them out to see,
wanting a view of what she had once dreamed.
Never ever did she think or wanted to release them
for doing so would meant to shatter her precious jars
and she was ever so afraid that those shards would cut,
cut and cut and cut her, leaving her shredded into pieces.
So on rainy days, she would find them, take them to the window
and put them on display as she counted them all, one, two, three...
she would cry and cry with the rain always wishing, always dreaming
of the day that maybe she would be unafraid to release the precious jars
every chance i didn't take IIYou tell him about your cancer on a Sunday,every chance i didn't take II6 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
in the shower of all places, in between brunch plans
and speculations about whether or not the weather
will ever get any colder - hasn't it been the strangest November?
Just the strangest.
You casually mention that somewhere
deep in the secret space between your hips
your own cells are proliferating uncontrollably,
whispering treason and passing down forgeries,
teaching each other the steps of mitosis with alarming intent.
You don't miss a beat as you drop survival percentages
mixed in with tomorrow's rain forecast
and predictions about the game later that afternoon -
easy as breathing, even as counterfeit armies
shred through the soft tissue just below
his favorite place on your spine.
And as you stand there
calmly making conversation
and sharing the last of the soap,
he watches the water
run quiet rivers
through your hair.
Goodbye lullabyWith our heart in a fierce beat ,Goodbye lullaby2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We'll dance together on the empty street.
With your shallow breathing against my head,
We'll sway along to words unsaid.
When you look in my eye,
I know, it's time to say goodbye,
But will you grant me one last wish?
To Hold me in your arms,
And Sing me a sweet lullaby,
To let me drown in your melodic voice for one last time,
And Let me dream of a place where you are mine.
To let the tune wash away my pain,
For I want to relive that moment once again,
When you and I first met each other
And to prove to myself, that there can be no another,
Who could ever take your place.
And our moments spent together,
I'd do anything to retrace.