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
A flower called hopeA flower called hope4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Just like that day,
When I first met you.
surrounded by flowers
They have died long ago,
withered from what they have been through.
From the lack of air
In the chest
From the constant pain
That has never left
And from the tears,
That are no longer poisoned ,at last.
Just one white rose remained alive,
The only thing that could survive,
And managed through it all.
So tell me,
If you are already gone,
How come you are still blooming in my soul?
El Reflejo De la OscuridadEl Reflejo De la Oscuridad4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
El tiempo pasa, e inquebrantable suspiro yace del alma
si pienso en el vacío que dejaste tras tu paso,
que fui siguiendo las huellas que dejaste en mi piel grabadas,
sollozando por las noches hasta el primer suspiro del alba.
Lloran las rosas al ver el equívoco de mi existencia,
al ver que la soledad se presenta ante mí con frecuencia.
Y es la desdicha la que hoy me hace pensar
que dos corazones unidos jamás se podrán tocar.
Y no es fácil sentir que tus principios te abandonan
por seguir los consejos de quienes no perdonan.
No es fácil, saber que el cielo está llorando
por un corazón que aún está sangrando,
que, la eternidad se posa ante nuestros ojos
borrando los recuerdos y dejando los despojos.
Dejaré mis señales dibuj
the PassingThe Passingthe Passing3 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
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
The Ghoul FeastThe Ghoul Feast6 years ago in Horror More Like This
Gruesome and gleeful.
Full of dark joy. Mewling in twisted pleasure.
Covered in tarry blood and foul ichor.
Wicked grins flashing pointed teeth. Tattered bloody lips pulled back. Milky white eyes with no pupils that penetrate the gloom.
Blue Veins barely pulsing underneath pale skin pulled tautly over their bones. Bones pushing out against its skin..
Distorted and Depraved from eating the cold flesh of the formerly living.
They are the anatomy of the terrible and physiology of fear made flesh.
The emaciated beings give off the strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of sickly sweet corruption and bitter grave mould.
The coffin is opened with a groaning creak. Gulping, tearing, slitting, ripping and cracking. Dislocating and chewing echoes in the dark mausoleum in a frenzy.
Cartilage and bones crack wetly. Flesh tears with a sound like wet ripping cloth. The cold flesh is swallowed noisily. Titters of pleasure and shuffling sounds accompany.
Then begins the sucki
all good comes out of bad,i am grateful.all good comes out of bad,i am grateful.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am thankful for the difficult people
and people who have hated me,the enemys
i have met, that where in my life because
they have shown me exactly who i don't
want to be,they have help me grow
and have help me become a better person.
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
DawnDawn2 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.
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
A Boy's Best FriendA Boy's Best Friend7 years ago in Horror More Like This
Neil was thought of as weird by the other kids at his High School; he wasnt interested in going to parties or much about girls. He lived in a small town in Texas surrounded by wide desert scrub and narrow minds. Although he was always alone, he was never lonely he had his little friends. Neils friends werent the kind of friends most other kids his age had, his had far too many legs for one thing.
Neil was a scorpion enthusiast, and kept many of the eight legged critters in the abandoned gas station on the edge of town that he had specially converted and secured as his parents wouldnt allow him to keep his precious pets anywhere near the house and he was worried about jackasses from school harming them. Of all of them, one was his favorite. A fat eight inch male emperor scorpion. His glistening black chunky carapace, heavy looking stinger and huge claws made him look like the stuff of most peoples nightmares, but Neil could handle him with ease,
SaintSaintSaint2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are such a saint,
Amongst your cathedral of blasphemies,
Beside your mass of sinners,
Preaching the word of a God to be feared,
Rather than overlooked.
What does that do for you?
Are you cleansed by a pastor’s ceremony?
Do you reach salvation by praying for forgiveness,
Rather than living without anything
That requires His hallowed pardon?
Lord, your children must be misguided,
Or they would remain on the path.
None are sinless, but that requires some clemency,
Sometimes it is expected.
Walking between the dark aisles,
Your children bow their heads,
‘Forgive me father, for I have sinned’
And what a sin it was- your chalky words
Pass through their consciousness,
Meaning absent for the moment.
Virtuous, they cry ‘Yes! I have seen my God!
What a wonderful God he was,’
For all that you’ve done, you pray,
And you are forgiven…
How do you coax them out those doors
Their heads are filled with lies…
Inside the Ho
To Whom It May ConcernYou address the press,To Whom It May Concern5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Preach the issues
You place your people in a box,
To the ones whose trust you've stolen.
You wage war against the world.
You candy coat your cold blooded culling,
Make the people praise your prowess.
You cater to critics,
Proving points to problems they approach.
You say that we'll see change,
Yet we witness it only for the worse.
So now a word from the wise.
Take a bow.
Gaze upon the masked masses
Waiting for your promises yet unfulfilled.
We the people of the United States,
In order to form a more perfect union
ListenA crash of thunderListen6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
from clouds in the sky,
A honk of the horn
from cars passing by,
The aimless chatter
of crowds in the street,
The rustle of leaves
as air feels the heat,
The pound of a heart
A tempo. A beat.
As If We Had Ever MetWhat do you think?As If We Had Ever Met6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
What crosses your mind?
But do you care what I think?
I could answer it for you,
And I would not want you too.
I want all the peace of mind to stay,
All the things that have been said,
won't be remembered,
just like we have never saw each other,
never to say hello again.
Carry MeCarry me until the sunset.Carry Me6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Carry me until there is no strength in your body.
Carry me until the world's end,
But I want to be carried by you, until the love in us diminishes.
Desperation's EndDarkest nights I search, but no answers can be found.Desperation's End6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Questions I ask, but no reply is heard.
This beast, the likes of which I never encountered,
Numbing pain, but still a shadow ripping at my soul.
Why does sorrow escape me, and to where has Emotion flown?
These things I do not know, but will one day learn.
Without hope or doubt,
Fear or courage,
What am I but an empty shell?
I do not hate,
Yet I do not love.
I lust for these things.
I long to feel these sensation, but alas...
I walk as a zombie in this cold, dark world.
When will they see my sufferings,
The things that make me who I am?
Who will cast a warm light on this cold, dead soul?
For now I shall stay lost.
For now I will find no way out.
My life blood shall pour from my body into that fathomless pit called Humanity.
Alone and lost I may be, but I must try,
Try to find a companion,
My hope to feel the slightest of sensations will only end in pain.
But I think to myself...
At Desperation's End,
Pain is wel