Ispirare LimerickIspirareIspirare Limerick4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Sinnocently of Chicago
This groups mighty creator
From the windy city
No group is greater
Relinquishing the rights
She has to digress
After work at nights
She has to de-stress
Wants to cut her hair
And someday be a mother
Waiting for a proposal
From her significant other
PomPrint's in Scotland
Mending his plaid kilts
They're all torn and tattered
From wearing his stilts
Don't know what's under there
But when nature calls
You better be careful
Of your dangling belt
Sometimes he's ired
He likes little dogs
But they get so darned tired
From retrieving his logs
Walk past his window
Look through his door
and you will probably catch him
Playing Wild Boar
Dallas is the home
Of our boy ShippD
Not quite a gnome
But still pretty shifty
He knows what he wants
He knows what he likes
Instead of dating the girls
He's home playing with trikes
On his computer - 3D
He' trying to render
A new gas tank
Or a new front fender
PseudoSiren the artist
The female unknown
Who follows the
Chocolate MonsterOnce upon a time there was a little girl named Cecilia. She was very sweet looking and very polite, therefore people were always giving her sweets."Such a sweet girl deserves sweets," they said and patted her on the golden-haired head, smiling at her bright-blue eyes. And as it is the way with people, nobody wasted a thought on what was best for the child, as long as it smiled happily, which it always did.Chocolate Monster5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Cecilia, on the other hand, started to be very vain, because she could not help noticing that she always got more attention and a lot more sweets from the grown-ups than all the other children. "I must be really special," she thought, "like a princess. One day I'll be the queen of them all. But I don't want to wait that long, they should start bowing to me now." But the other children refused to treat her like a princess, or indeed a queen. Instead, they threw mud at her and were told off for it by the adults. After that they laughed at her behind her back and never talked to or play
PerspectivePerspective2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The looking glass extends throughout
All splatters of pure clear
A reality that hasn't begun
All innocently of mind
The stares of the unknown
Are stepping stones across
The bridge of perspective
The perspective from within
Redden streaks merge with white
Staining all lies inside
Bringing them all out into the surface
Over the edge of the terrence
Crossing over that gap
With the sharpened demons below
Waiting to devour
Waiting only to steal
The planks upon which they walk
Creak and fall with every step
With steps further they take along
A new perspective of reality
the PassingThe Passingthe Passing2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
(Please see Artist's Comments for warnings and disclaimers)
Bumblebee sat in silence by the bedside, on the cold linoleum floor, looking to his hands, clasped on his lap. He prayed to Primus. He prayed that his friend wouldn't suffer when... when the time came.
'Bee?' An aged, tired voice called him. 'You there?'
'I'm here!' Bumblebee jumped to his feet and clasped his friend's hand when the other reached out, looking for him. 'How're you feeling?'
'Tired.' Spike replied, opening his eyes. 'How long have I been out?'
'Its almost... eleven in the day.' Bumblebee checked his internal chronometers and converted the time for Spike to understand. 'Do you want anything-'
'Where's Carly?' Spike asked.
'She's gone out.' Bumblebee replied, 'she should be back soon.'
It hurt to Bumblebee's very spark to lie to his friend, but he didn't want to hurt him with the truth. Carly had passed on five years ago. The entire Autobot team had been present at her funeral, just as they
Tell Me A Tale Of TomorrowTell Me A Tale Of Tomorrow10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tell me a tale of tomorrow;
Where will I be when I'm there?
My life is a mess,
So it's anyone's guess.
Hello, does anyone care?
Sing me a song of the future;
Look into your crystal ball.
What is the news;
Am I singing the blues?
Have I fallen; how far did I fall?
Time is a very good teacher;
Death is the king of kings.
Which ever you choose,
You really can't lose.
It's not over 'til the fat lady sings.
copyright Tom Wilcox 2004
A New Mexico ChildhoodA New Mexico Childhood:A New Mexico Childhood6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A Eulogy for My Brother, Gone at 50
God came for my brother at 3 a.m. Not about 3 a.m. but
literally: Right then. It was exact, and I know because I was there.
Apparently, God and Cooper had a pre-arranged appointment to keep,
one we just couldn't find in his datebook. At first,
we were relieved that the merciless pain,
cruel beyond measure, was now in the past.
My mind drifted back and forth; my eyes sought his face, his
hands. I held his hands over and over: dead or alive, those hands
had something to tell me if I could just listen harder! His hands were
like our father's: strong, sure, with beautiful fingers
that belied the hurts inside. And, indeed,
my brother's y