we don't sound like a whisper.The sun never sets over the water, but you still take me there whenever dusk comes to meet the horizon. We sit out on the rocks with me tucked tight against your chest, while you count stars like other people count blessings, but we're only half lucky with all these city lights ruining your chances. I know you're tired, love, but I'm terrified. I'm running out of ways to stop myself from telling you I miss you because twenty four hours isn't a long time to be separated and I'm really just more afraid of what you're doing when I'm not there -- and of what you're thinking when I am. I've been burnt enough times before to learn that loving with only half your heart will save you from the fire, but I know that's not what I'm doing here. I don't want you to be a mistake worth making. I want this to be real this time.we don't sound like a whisper.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I keep playing out all the ways you could hurt me in my head, not because I think you will, but because it'll sting less if it actually happens. I've learned to prepare myself
i'm not your symphony but i'm orchestrated anywaysit's not easy to explain --i'm not your symphony but i'm orchestrated anyways2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but i'm a rushed symphony of heartbeats, quick breaths and hiccups. i'm not made of skin and bones, but a complicated sentence structure and thoughts that i spew out before i even finish them.
i'm messy in all the wrong ways.
and i'm not right in any of the ways that matter. but still you're always here, picking me up when i fall, kissing me goodnight, making a life with me one day at a time. and you haven't gone yet but i'm always moving so how long can you stay. how long can i expect it. how long is too long when you're living and loving and breathing and hell, if i can't stay still i'll mess this up for sure. i just need a minute, to think, to stop, to be. so i can be yours forever.
all i know is that i'm a constant frenzy -- a kaleidoscope of words and ideas and minutes and clumsy steps and i don't know what i'm doing, but i'm always shifting and moving and growing and going and going
and going and
until i'm standing still again.
no one can stop
I hope it's worth it when I'm gone.I can't even pretend things are simple anymore.I hope it's worth it when I'm gone.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's raining again, and with every crash of thunder, I miss you more than I can bear. I know it's not worth saying, because really nothing much is anymore, but it doesn't make it any less true.
It's eleven ten on a Friday night, and I'm sitting in the middle of the grass, watching the downpour spill off the roof. My t-shirt is clinging to my ribcage, and my hair is sticking to my face. I can feel the water running down the ridges of my spine, the backs of my hands, clumping in my eyelashes, but still, I don't move. Sometimes, when I can't stand what the world is doing anymore, I allow myself a thunderstorm to wash everything away.
It's the meteorological equivalent to a clean break. Faster to heal -- or at least, that's what they say.
The lightning is tearing across the sky, cutting through the darkness like a crack in the atmospheric layers. I'm staring at this like I half expect all the air to disappear around me while the world disinte
second chances don't fit here.i never feel coldersecond chances don't fit here.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
than when i'm talking to you.
i don't know what this says about us.
but i know that i worry about the way
you complicate something as simple as
the beating of my heart. i don't think
i love you. not yet. not since. not
ever but maybe that's just the strong
sense of denial i've built up in the
past few months. i don't think i'll be
okay. not now. not really. not quite.
maybe you were good for me once
but you're no good for me now.
i often wonder what would happen if i
stopped speaking for awhile since all
my words ever do is make a mess out of
things that should be easy. the thing is
that when i'm happy i let myself write
a better story than what i have. i get
carried away and i make believe myself
to be a more lovable character than i'll
ever be. but this isn't fiction and the
fact is sometimes all we get is one
perfect moment. my moment was you.
but darling, when it's over, it's over.
there are no chances left. not anymore.
i don't really think i'm hopeless even
we have the softest heartbeatsi don't know what it means when you saywe have the softest heartbeats4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you don't know what i mean.
the implications of my every sentence stain the
atmosphere like neon lights and i'm left wondering
how you can still be so clueless. how after
all this time. after all the sentences we traded
with each other. after every minute that makes
the miles smaller. you still don't get it. how
you could still not get me.
this is the part where i need to remind myself
that you were never mine.
you've never been anyone's because there isn't
a sentence simple enough to make you stay so
three words and eight letters won't leave you
breathless in between my bed sheets. it won't make
you feel the same. and there isn't an idea complex
enough to make you stumble into love, because
to figure out that the world is so much more than
black and white would be admitting you've been
wrong all along.
we're not the people we once were, but maybe our
expectations are far too high.
Hush hush.The stars,Hush hush.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the stars are out, my love
and they remind me of your eyes.
just if I could touch you now,
we'd both have butterflies.
of little loneliness,
is streaking through the skies.
just if you were with me now,
they wouldn't hear my cries.
Darling, hush, hush.
Darling, don't say a word.
My Pretty Little Life ChangerThe pretty little life changerMy Pretty Little Life Changer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pretty as can be.
Took you outta the garbage,
to breathe some color into me.
Not ash nor coal,
to set fire to my soul.
Suck me in.
Spit me out.
Color my heart
Ease my pain and doubt.
Distract me once.
Hurt me twice.
And brighten my life
to a new haven thrice
The pretty little life changer
You and me.
Fill me with color
and set me free.
Fight ItHold my lips and bite my tongue,Fight It4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before the words I want to say have gone.
Muffle my screams and fight my tears,
My cries are too much for your delicate ears.
Please tell my why I am so
To tell you what you need to know,
What I am yearning to say.
Take my thoughts and hide them away,
So they cannot escape, at least not today.
I silence my voice, it can shout in my head,
But the words will never come out,
They'll stay with me until I am dead.
NextI sat by her side for days, all the while keeping her hand clasped in mine. I brought my wife a balloon for every day she spent in that hospital, yellows and reds and purples tied to the end of her bed. The only color I didn't blow up was green, a color she couldn't stand.Next4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Each balloon was tied up to the end of the bed, around the metal bar. So many accumulated that it looked as if there would be enough to lift her up and float away home.
"Charlie, you need to stop bringing me balloons," She said one day and laughed, then coughed. I ran my thumb over her hand and smiled that smile people plaster on their faces when they wish they had something to smile about.
I never did stop bringing her balloons, though. We had met that way, after all. Back when I was twenty one, her nineteen, and I spotted her in the park from the bench I always sat at. She carried in her hand a bright red balloon, a flower the same color tucked behind her ear. I remember the way her smile made me look twice, even f
gravitational collapseI remember being seven years old, sitting at our scratched kitchen table and being able to see the moon through the reflective glass of the window over the sink. And I remember being terrified, because here I was sitting in same place and already the whole world had shifted and moved and rotated and spun and tilted and hurled through space at a rate so quick I could never comprehend it. To me, this was the sort of mystery you didn't try to solve.gravitational collapse4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember being curled up against the solid frame of your body with your right hand claimed in between both of mine. Our pale skin blending together as I traced constellations on your palms. You later told me that you thought it was because I loved the stars more than anything closer to home. But I tried to explain that an ever expanding universe scared me because I couldn't figure out where exactly it was spilling into, and how it most certainly seemed to be making a whole lot of something out of nothing, so instead I started making my own s
CopycatFrom VCR to MP3, it's all we see,Copycat3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's high technology; Give me this and that for free,
It's a whole new world of made from greed,
A whole new platform to plant the seed,
Media got us fucked up,
But just shut up and drink up,
Or take this and smoke it up,
Those on TV screens do,
So should we,
Monkey see monkey do,
We're such wannabes, but who cares,
It's new; it's fresh. It has swag.
Can't be a fag; can't lag.
Obviously, we gotta sag,
'cause it's so sick.
Nah, it just makes me sick.
The Sky Child Rain. Is clear. Is moist, is all perceiving, all absorbing. I am standing in the rain, rain is soaking me through, soaking every inch of my skin. In my shoes it is slushing. Between the toes. Mixing with the lint. Churning a past. I have a lot of lint. I didn't empty my socks this morning. There wasn't any time. Only time enough to throw them out and run into the rain. I wait for the thunder. It doesn't come. I wait longer. I might have even waited longer.The Sky Child4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Slowly I began to run. My shoes are pasted in the lint mortar. They are heavy on my feet. I try to run faster. It is not fast enough. The winds whirl around me. I want to go with them. I untie the laces. I keep untying them. There are many laces, and I had laced them all.
I step out of the cement blocks. I step into the air. I am no longer held. I hold myself.
The air is crisp, and full of moisture. The winds whip m
HaloYou’re the heart of the oceanHalo2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A still surface -- with troubled waters underneath.
Yet the reflections still look the same to me.
Unpolluted pool of light
Silver fragranced moon
Shed your tears tonight.
You’re the heart of the ocean.
A still surface -- with troubled waters underneath.
Yet your reflections always look the same to me.
Ever fixed halo in the sky
Shed your tears tonight
Move the oceans and the sea,
Break apart this entity.
In Oz: The Hidden PlaceIn Oz: The Hidden Place4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
In Oz: The Hidden Place
* An escalation by BeautifulExperience *
Could there be a place where we can be safe from harm? Maybe this place could be your hidden place, and I love the concept of your photo. Reaching the shore now we're leaving the woods behind, and it's just wonderful to play in the sand near the water. On the beach Pan created a mirror for the sky to watch its own beauty, and the fawns in the woods are guiding and sheltering us. Here's the place we ever wanted, here's the place we never want to leave.
But look! There's a rocket in the sky.
Alternative LightIt's starting to Snow and I'mAlternative Light3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
starting to Wonder
If maybe I should walk Home
before the sun starts to Rise, because
Every teenager Knows that
the rising Sun brings with it
The Real world and all Life's
The stars do Burn brightest
after the Sun goes down.
Suicide After DeathAs they look upon her casket,Suicide After Death9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tears in their eyes,
wondering why she did this,
they can't seem to help but cry.
What they don't know would hurt them,
suicide was her dismiss,
but could you call it suicide?
she was dead so long before this.
generationwe are brave.generation4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
we are intuitive.
we are dedicated.
we are passionate.
we are unique.
we are accepting.
we are persistant.
we are not shallow.
we are not stupid.
we are not weak.
we are not whores.
we are not cowards.
we are not apathetic.
we are not worthless.
we are performers.
we are poets.
we are politians.
we are musicians.
we are fighters.
we are ambassadors.
we are your future.
and we need you.
Moving OnWhy don't I want to leave, yet I do?Moving On8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is it because I won't see you?
Will I miss this okay place?
Or will I miss your smiling face?
Will I miss the people here?
Or is it you I hold so dear?
Will I miss the past behind?
Or is it you stuck in my mind?
Will I miss the sky so blue?
Or dear friend will I miss you?
Death of a Glass Chess Kinghe strokes his well trimmed beardDeath of a Glass Chess King4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
never mind. he doesn't have any hands.
"Beside my ranks I stand to face my cause,
The dreaded foe, who likewise meets my gaze
When suddenly, I stop, for stilling pause
Has found my conscience in a gloomy haze.
Why am I here? All colored like in white?
And why do I detest yon blackened foe?
And why's this horrid crown so blasted tight?
And why's my pace but one, to where I go?
To speak of pacing, why must I in squares?
This boxy world is want to fit my view.
I'm too momentous, and this game's no fair.
And so, my friends, I bid you all adieu."
He slowly slid, and soon met tables edge,
And panicked, took his leave from yonder ledge.
A Beautiful - Terrible SceneYou are in a vast forest. You walk into a big clearing, a meadow. Soft, lush, green grass is growing with little clumps of tiny yellow flowers here and there. The meadow is very big and is surrounded by trees on all sides, but one.A Beautiful - Terrible Scene9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
In the distance you see something glisten in the sun and run towards it. It’s a lake, filled with clear, blue, glistening water, not that deep. At the bottom you can see the white sand and little fish swimming. Around the lake are cherry, peach, and apple trees, ripe and sweet-smelling, in full bloom. You pull a peach off of one of the trees and bite into it, tasting it’s sweet juices.
You look up to see a smooth grayish-black rock with the clear blue water flowing silently over in and into the lake. How could you not have noticed it before? A waterfall. You pull off your clothes, glad you had decided to wear your bathing suit under your shorts and tee shirt.
You slide slowly into the somewhat shallow water. You feel the crisp coldness, and dive
End RemembranceEnd Remembrance2 years ago in Historical More Like This
Remembrance Day originates at the end of World War I. The idea is to honor those who died in the line of duty, defending their country from enemies. For all its pompous words and fancy granite memorials littered with colorful flower bouquets, Remembrance Day and others like it have failed miserably in achieving this goal.
I've often been criticized as having no respect, and that can be an impediment when discussing certain topics. However, I am often in luck – hypocrisy deserves no respect. What changed as a result of the enormous sacrifice of those who died in WW1? As the first bombs of WW2 fell just two decades later, millions once again obediently lined up under various pieces of colored cloths to slaughter and be slaughtered. It became obvious that absolutely nothing had changed, and that the millions of WW1 had died in vain.
Most would agree that all that lip service paid to the sacrifice between the two world wars wasn't good enough. To truly honor their sacrifice would be
A Soulmate Makes You Feel The MostI want to know what it would feel likeA Soulmate Makes You Feel The Most3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to hold your hand without the nagging fear
ripping out my heart, soul, and mind.
Fear that I'll fuck up.
Fear that I'm not pretty enough.
Fear that I'm too weird, too outspoken, too daring.
Fear that you'll let go.
Your hand is the opposite of a lifeline.
It's more like a dreamline, pulling me under
and taking my breath away
but different from my fears of the ocean.
Your arms are pale white ropes snaking around my torso
simultaneously choking and freeing me and my glass lungs,
I want to be the match lighting the sparks in your icy eyes
the canvas you use to finger paint our kisses,
the words you mutter while you sleep.
I want my name to be the chorus you sing
in the car, in the shower, on autopilot.
I want to be the firefly in your jar
because I know
you'll poke seven holes in the lid exactly.
But what if you let go?
What if your kisses lost their sweetness
and you lost your paints?
Would my face still be drawn on the backs of your eyelid
Extended MetaphorThere comes a point, where on of shedding tears,Extended Metaphor4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The eyes run dry and sting with straining fears,
When all that you can do is bend and blink,
And drool a bit, and think to try to think.
And yet before you still and small she sits
And waits for you to try again and it's
A terror to behold her pallid face
A stranger to the human eye, the waste
Of opportunity now standing strong
A pale faced lady yet no sigh or yawn,
Will break upon her lips though she had been
A cast away, and crumpled in a bin
Of trash before I found her, took her hand,
And smoothed her wrinkles out till she was grand
And awesome in her emptiness. I guess
That I supposed she would, at my behest,
Work such a wonder bring forth such a thing
For I had saved her I would make her sing.
And thus it was three weeks did I implore,
And curse and tear the planks out of the floor,
And finally weep abandoned as I was,
Refused of food and water and because