All these WordsI sometimes wonder.All these Words3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wonder if you are like me
too quiet when you shouldn't be
and too loud when you should be quiet.
I imagine you must be seamless and wonderful
but maybe you aren't.
Maybe you could never focus on math
and maybe you find yourself wandering
in and out of peoples lives.
I'll be the first to admit I'm bad at friendships
I would probably be worse at romance.
Yet maybe we can give this a try, someday,
If you're like me.
If you like me.
Katie DROCAC Round 9Katie DROCAC Round 93 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Katie was not afraid of going to prison, but she was afraid of the panel of security officers, all their attention focused on her as she walked into the room. The back of her neck was sweating, but she kept her breath even and her face calm. She wouldnÕt show them she was nervous, even though, as Leslin kept pointing out,
ÒYou should act more natural. A scared young woman is less suspicious then one whoÕs stiff or calm in the face of danger. Or do you want to go to prison?Ó
ÒShut up, youÕre breaking my concentration,Ó she told him silently.
She sat down in the plastic foldout chair. Amanda went to join the five other personnel. The oldest man, the one with a badge on his uniform and the air of someone in charge, leaned forward.
ÒStart talking, young lady,Ó he said.
* * *
When the demon had dropped her on the upper deck, it had been very early, just after sunrise. SheÕd
Never Meant To BeThis is not the end,Never Meant To Be3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But it never was meant to be.
We're a continent apart;
We're sitting knee to knee.
We're talking about everything
As we're walking through the night;
Hand touches hand
To fill our hearts with loving light.
We watch moonlight in the clouds
And the stars in the lake;
Rainbows coat the sky,
And the silence doesn't break.
You hug me tight when we're alone;
When I see you I can't help but smile.
It doesn't matter if this ends
I think our love will last a while.
Maybe this isn't the time or place,
And maybe friends are all we can be.
But I think that, given time,
We'll get another chance to see.
This is not the end,
Though it was never meant to be.
We're a continent apart,
But love connects you to me.
MentalI'm leaning on cruches of social anxiety and inability to functionMental3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I'm watching you pull back and look at me with confusion and disdain as I wash myself with melted snow.
Years and years for always I'm going to back away and never tell you I love you and I'll watch you walk down
that aisle one day with tears in the back of my throat and I'll glue a smile to my face that doesn't need to be
there because you'll know when I say I can't sing and I'll watch you, not the happy bride, or the crying
It's always been you.
How it Used to BeI remember how it used to be:How it Used to Be3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Laughter and fun dancing throughout the house,
Your dark hair and my fair chasing each other in circles,
Your sky-eyes and my earth-eyes shining together in play,
Purple and maroon colors of Mother watching, joining in,
Father's leonine presence a joy in evening and weekend,
A promise of play and more games to be played together.
Everything was the four of us together.
I remember how it used to be:
I'd sit upstairs only to read;
The whole house was filled with fun,
With balls and board games and brothers
Who are willing to match any game,
Speak in any oddity of language,
Wrestle and play-fight,
Laugh and dance and sing,
Everything was the two of us together.
I remember how it used to be:
Long summer days spent splashing in the pool,
Running around outside until the heat brought us in,
Short winter days listening to and playing in the rain,
The house warm and dry after a soaking day of play,
Spring days spent watching flowers bloom in the sun,
The SunI traded places with the sun the other dayThe Sun4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So that it could be a person for a while
When the day was over
The sun came to me and adamantly
Adamantly, requested to change back places
I asked if it was disappointed
So the sun spoke, "How very lucky you are"
When I asked the sun, "Why?"
It responded with a very simple answer:
"Though I will live for a billion years
"and though I will warm the skin of trillions
"I will never once, make even just one
"feel as if they are the sun in the sky
"the only light in all of the heavens.
"Why would anyone take that away from anyone?"
Strange Man (doctor who fanfic) When I was 10 I met a man, a very strange man. He wore these things called colors. ColorsStrange Man (doctor who fanfic)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
were forbidden on our planet twenty three billion years ago. Even our hair, eyes and skin were dyed
grey. The sky was grey, the grass was grey, birds were grey. There was only grey. But at
night, there were colors. No one was allowed to see them, since colors were forbidden, but
sometimes when it was windy my window boards would move a little, and I could see the beauty of the things they call stars. They were blues and reds that were so bright that the were almost white. But one night, when it was especially windy, I saw something. Something that I have never told anyone, for fear I would be banished into the forbidden lands. What I saw, was a big, blue square. It was more of a rectangle really, but it frightened me so much that I looked away. In that split second I looked away, a noise came upon my room. It was strange, and mechanical. Suddenly, a blue box appeared in my room. I almost sc
ViolaA large violin? I think not, foolViola3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Nor am I a tiny cello
And the ones who pluck me, play my strings
Are decidedly more mellow
Inferior? I scoff at this
Because my numbers are few?
Because of lame jokes infinite?
Well, I'll teach you a thing or two
The firsts have egos that fill a sea
The seconds aren't much better
They always rush, embellish and prance
Can't follow their music to the letter
The cellos drone deep and much too loud
"Play soft?" they ask, "Too hard!"
The bassi we like and love because
We're both held sans regard
So now that the idiots (save the doubles, of course)
Have been given their fair due
I'll tell you what's really up with me
Take the bull out from what's true
It's true that I'm the middle child
Oft unnoticed in the room
But I'm a vital link, a bridge
Twixt ego and the boom
I share the cellos strings
But an octave higher still
And though I lack a violin's crest
The lower tones I fill
I don't screech like the violin
Nor growl in the cello's way
My tone is rich
Wir schaffen die Zeit abDu rennst.Wir schaffen die Zeit ab2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Melancholie statt Lebenslust.
Kommt die Erkenntnis unbewusst:
Wir schaffen die Zeit ab.
Sonst schaffen wir uns ab.
Wir schaffen die Zeit ab.
Denn sie ist eh knapp.
Wir schaffen die Zeit ab.
Sonst geht es bergab.
Wir schaffen die Zeit ab.
Wer braucht diesen Maßstab.
Wir schaffen die Zeit ab.
Wir schaufeln ein Zeitgrab.
Den Turbo einfach abschalten.
den Reichtum den du entdeckst -
wenn der Adler sich in die Lüfte hebt
und jede Faser deines Seins belebt.
Doch es bleibt nur ein kurzer Traum,
es ist vorbei als es begonnen kaum.
Denn es gibt immer einen Idioten,
der denkt, das gehört verboten."
Er hat sich heimlich runtergebückt
und den verdammten Turboknopf gedrückt!
Hätten wirs nur geschafft bei Zeiten.
Gegen die Zeit einzuschreiten.
Und uns von ihr befreit.
Wir hätten jetzt viel mehr.
Missing you (Doctor-x-Rose)The Doctor sat quietly in the console room, Martha doing stuff he couldn't care-less about. Every time the two came back from an adventure, the first thing that came to his mind was Rose. He started daydream about the times he'd had with Rose. Adventures, of course there were bad times, but not many. The times at night... His thoughts were interrupted when Martha called his name.Missing you (Doctor-x-Rose)2 months ago in Settings More Like This
"Yes Martha?" He called back. There was no answer, so he got up and went to go look for her. Then out of nowhere he tripped, collapsing to the ground. He let out a groan of pain. He picked up the source of his tripping and held it in his hands. Tears formed as he realized what it was. Rose's top. He held it to his face, it still smelled like her.
He kept walking and ended up in her old room, the smell exploded in his nostrils, the smell of the perfume she used every day. The Doctor sat on edge of the bed sobbing into the t-shirt, tears staining it. The bed wasn't made, just in case, somehow, she coul
Late evenings (Doctor-x-Rose) The radio was playing quietly. The Doctor lay in bed waiting for Rose, 'why do humans take so long just to get ready for bed?' he didn't have Jim jams anymore, so he wore a burgundy t-shirt and his brown pinstripe pants. While waiting he stared up at ceiling thinking about his times with his pink and yellow girl.Late evenings (Doctor-x-Rose) 2 months ago in Settings More Like This
'When he fought the Cybermen with her, took her back to New New York, the times he had before he’d regenerated.’ He smiled, hearing light footsteps entering the room.
Rose walked in wearing a light blue night gown that went just past her knees. "Evening Doctor." Rose said heading toward the bed.
"Evening Rose." He replied.
Rose slipped under the covers next to him. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close. "I love you so much." He kissed her forehead. Rose placed a hand on his upper chest, feeling his heartbeat. "I love you to."
Moments went by, the Doctor's attention went to the radio, a familiar song came on. ‘Moonlight Serenade.’
"Rose! Do yo
Twas The Night RomAC Saved ChristmasTwas the night before Christmas, and all through the wasteland, not a creature was stirring. Except for a purple lens possessing hooman.Twas The Night RomAC Saved Christmas1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
He awaited Christmas with the hanging of their boots above a flashlight, his loyal minions observing each their respective, two with unvoiced annoyance one with delight.
Zee Captein ushered the others to their hiding spots, while he envisioned the loot from Santa that each shall be brought.
The engineer in his coat, and Snippy in his jacket, Pilot had settled down finally instead of raising such a racket.
When outside in the cold such a call arose, by surprise the Captain snorted tea up his nose.
To the door he went to give the intruder such a scare, his minions weren't sure if joining him was worth such a dare.
Deciding to follow their commander's footsteps each made to go, despite perhaps on the way to Captain they meet such a foe.
Once outside with their Captain, what to unbelievable surprise should they see, instead a foe but Santa Claus kneeled d
Good dayGood day10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Charles Snippy hadn’t had a good day in a long while. He’d had an okay day a while back, when he was able to make it all the way until lunch without incident. But it’s safe to say, that that day didn’t end very well for him. He never knew Turnip-phobia could be a real thing, turns out, it is and forever will be to him. But not this day, it was different. He woke up later than usual, filled with energy. He looked around the bare room incredulously, he had actually woken up on his own. No loud noises, explosions, or otherwise rather unfriendly manners of awakening. Captain wasn’t hovering over him as usual, and Pilot wasn’t springing out from anywhere with a weapon. He was about to go back to sleep, thinking that he was probably still dreaming, but a loud noise from outside startled him back into consciousness.
He sighed, well, that was short lived. He stood up and stretched, thankfully finding the rifle next to his
New RecruitNew Recruit1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was only with the assistance of the oddly silent man, that Charles Snippy was able to walk through the knee deep snow. His muscles were aching and his lips numb. Fatigue and lightheadedness made him want to keel over, but the man was holding him tightly and keeping him upright. Though, oddly, he chose to interlock their arms, as if they were a happy couple taking a lovely stroll through the park. Charles could barely find it in him to keep his eyes open. The original sensation of hope he’d felt when disbelievingly taking the man’s hand and being helped up, had subsided. Right now, he was just tired and in pain. He wished briefly that the man would just let him relax, and take a nice, long, and final nap in the snow. But he couldn’t even bring himself to utter this desire.
After a walk that seemed to have taken forever, they were leaving the dead zone, and walking through the outskirts of the ruined city Eureka. A meaningless realization, since t
never trust a writerIt's best to stay far away from us writers. We're double-agents, and can't be trusted.never trust a writer4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You see, we just have this terrible privilege of not being able to tell the difference between reality and fiction. We sometimes forget that the emotions in our head might not run with as much passion as they really do, and then we get disappointed in things that make normal people happy. We're afraid to get close to people, and yet all we do is yearn for human contact. That's why we write about it, and that's why we lose touch on what it really feels like to be in a relationship.
Writers often find that we don't fully comprehend the world around us, and, considering ourselves realists, we wonder what is wrong with the world that makes it so different from what's in our heads. That's why we write about it, and that's why when we finally venture out of our homes, we can't help but curl up our shoulders protectively and stick our hands low in our pockets, blinking at the intensely bright lack of color.
.:Ib et Noir:.I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t understand anything at all. I’m not even sure if I want to understand. We pretty much ran until we started to go downhill and I began to see a few structures up ahead. He – now is not a good time to ask names, this is life and death – has been helping get up and down from places or depressions in the ground that happen to have…spikes. Really sharp spikes, for that matter..:Ib et Noir:.2 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
We’re getting closer to the structures and I touch the surface of one of them. It’s cold. Metal. Looking around, there’s plenty of huge gears and boxes and chains all over the place. Is this a factory? Maybe it is, but I don’t have time to think about it, he’s telling me to catch up. We continue to run, stack up boxes and climb over them to reach high places, and we even encountered a gravity-switching device. Yes, gravity.
I almost run onto a metal platform when it suddenly sparks and he, who wa
Trick or TreatTrick or Treat2 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Three children walk down the road by themselves, carrying an empty bag. They are wearing what seem to be like normal everyday clothes, but their faces make it clear that they are here to join the trick or treating along with the rest of the children for the night. A boy with a black hoodie and pants, black messy hair and entirely black eyeballs – although he appeared to be too young to wear contact lenses. A girl in a tattered grey dress, with black eyes as well, with her left eye holding a pale grey tint on her iris. And a smaller child in a blue hoodie, with light colored hair, and his hands stuffed into his pockets while his companions carry the bag. All of them of an unnatural pale complexion.
They make their way to a house. There are still children on the porch, receiving their candy, but they go towards it anyway. The children have already started to leave, saying their thanks as the house owners shout, “Happy Halloween!” at them. Once a few feet away from the h
Stupid little MockingbirdDid you forgetStupid little Mockingbird2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
that you are not allowed to refuse
You can't think
You are not supposed to have an opinion
All you should do
is nod and say 'yes'
Don't question it
even if they pull your feathers
It's not supposed to hurt
you're not supposed to be in pain,
feel the pain,
nor recognize pain
Stupid little Mockingbird
You were taught
and you learn well
Very very well
To the point where you excel your lessons
You were taught and trained
to control and conceal
your feelings, since
they don't really matter
To the outside world
Your feelings are nothing at all
What they value
is what you show
Even if your eyes are so dead
Even if your feathers are so ruffled
Even if your voice is so
Your job is only
to obey and obey and obey blindly
Even if it hurts you
Even if it hurts others
Stupid little Mockingbird
You learn by watching others
You learn by observing their patterns
And even if it doesn't make sense
You blend in the background by copying them
You smile at moments people are expe
TWD/AC Chapter 1: Meeting the AssassinChapter 1: Meeting the AssassinTWD/AC Chapter 1: Meeting the Assassin2 weeks ago in Settings More Like This
Typical Rick. Not trusting anyone and overreacting to everything. Daryl Dixon watched as the sheriff shackled the woman who tried to save him a couple of days ago.
Let’s take a step back so we all know who this woman is. Daryl was out walking in the forest about four days ago searching for Sofia when a couple of Walkers decided to try to make him a meal. As usual, Daryl shot each of them down, but as he was recollecting his arrows, two more started to sneak up on him from behind. He stumbled backwards as he reloaded his crossbow then tried to aim, but someone stole his kill. It seemed as if she appeared out of nowhere as she leaped from the trees onto both of the Walkers, killing them with a blade in each hand. Unfortunately, she didn’t leave unscathed; as Daryl was aiming and she leaped from the tree, he tripped over one of the dead Walkers and his finger pulled the trigger, sending an arrow into the side of the hooded figure. S
Punctuating Dialogue: A GuideStandard Punctuation: DialoguePunctuating Dialogue: A Guide6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Sometimes we read dialogue so often, punctuated in so many different ways, that we either forget what we've learned (if that was anything memorable to begin with) or we rely on instinct to guide us. A common example of this can be seen in the opening dialogue of darksouldream's piece, Bobby:
No, replied Cindy `I think his sister Becky is staying with her, but she keeps muttering about parents out living children. The doctors been keeping her pretty sedated.
Most Americans will cringe at this. Why? Well, double quotation marks are the more acceptable usage (the "traditional convention") in American Standard English. However, in British Standard English, both the double quotation mark and single quotation mark are used. What's the rule? Stylis
Places-30: NeverendlandBefore Id start writing this poemPlaces-30: Neverendland5 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
An angel gifted me a pen drenched in smile
And ink, so that I may complete the last of my poems.
I was reminded how I had wondered
A long time back if my hands would start aching
While Im writing this, and if
Id never pick up a pen again for a long, long while.
Before Id start writing this poem
An angel gifted me a pen drenched in smile
And ink, and I wonder if thats how
It was always meant to be.
Aint it all part of a cosmic conspiracy
Thatd make the poems powerful enough to spill beyond,
Overbrimming into my present. And my future too,
For the poem had only been a promise
While I had thought of putting the pen down.
And I wonder if
I had not been following a thread
All this while, unknown even to myself.
And if none of the words Ive said, all this while, is mine.
I wonder if Ive just been a puppet on strings
To some forces, strong; and if this series of poems
Had been completed much before I start
Places-28: VoidThese days, I wonder oftentimes,Places-28: Void5 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
How we couldve never noticed the trend.
The common thread flowing through it all,
As if someones holding a sign above his head
And we never bothered to look up beyond his feet.
Will we ever see this? And
Will we ever listen to the things been told
And register them too? Or shall my poems linger
As a thirty day challenge of writing thirty poems
One each day?
Shall my poems just be that?
A used toothpick lying on the pavements
Never to be noticed that it has blood on its tip.
Blood is irrelevant without actual acquaintance
To its actual carrier. These days.
Wonder how weve all become mosquitoes?
Words dont move your heart no more.
Times healed ya. Your hearts moved on.
Cause moving on is a popular trend, these days.
Weve self-help articles in the newspaper
Telling us how to do that in 13 steps.
And our hearts have become
Just another destination in space
It moves away from the place where
You wouldve originally go