tumultuous time unhandedtorn betweentumultuous time unhanded5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how the next
to think about
the time lost
seconds are a
Helping Hurting PeopleThis is a message I'm sending out to everyone in need of help with the problems, emotional and mental pains they are having. It doesn't matter who you are, what race, what kind of person you are, either you're atheist, gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, straight or what you have done. Even if you killed someone, please don't be afraid, I want to help you. If we talk I'll keep it between us, so no one else knows. You are never too far away to be saved. I won't judge you. Whether you are in pain from people, have pain on the inside, you cut yourself, or even thinking of or planning on committing suicide. It's never too late to change your mind about something. Never give up on life, even when life seems impossible. I want to help. This isn't a fake, I really do wish to help. You have a purpose, you just need to find it. If you know someone who is looking for help or needs it, tell them about me. My e-mail msn hotmail account is mentioned in the description section below.Helping Hurting People4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I'm not "perfect". No one
Responsibility "Look everyone, Toris is home~"Responsibility3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There were no waves or smiles to greet him; Raivis and Eduard could manage only mumbles in acknowledgement. Lithuania didn't mind, nor did he care to mumble back. They were all very tired, faces ashen with what these last six years had done to them.
Ivan seemed undeterred by the lack of enthusiasm, although he had enough reason to be the same. Regaining his lost territories from Germany had been a costly effort. On a normal basis Lithuania would have marveled at his childlike resiliency, but this was certainly not a time to muse.
Later that day when the two were alone, Ivan confronted him. His sing-song voice dripped with the annoyance he didn't attempt to hide.
"Are you not happy to be home, Toris? Germany was cruel to you, yes?"
Lithuania didn't really register what was being asked of h
Swing BandPlay your trumpets louder, boys -Swing Band3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let's hear that trombone sound.
You're gettin' paid to make some noise;
The dames are crowdin' 'round.
The chaps have finished sippin' gin
And now it's time to dance.
They want a tune to dip and spin
And kick up some romance.
A young thing needs a break at night
From white barrage balloons,
From broadcasts, blackout drapes, cordite,
Junkers across the moon.
The music's really pickin' up.
The piano's lost a string.
There's no one in a smoky club
But loves a chance to swing.
It's hard to hear the sirens wail -
The saxophone is grand -
For death is sorry, weak and pale
But life's a big swing band.
Ghost Trick Special: WaitingGhost Trick Special: WaitingGhost Trick Special: Waiting4 years ago in Romance More Like This
It seemed like a bad dream. It had to be a bad dream. That's what Sissel kept telling herself. But she had to face the cold and bitter truth the man she loved, the man she had hoped to marry, was to have his ultimate fate decided in a court of law.
There was no denying that he was guilty; he had admitted to it freely, both to her and to the police who arrested him. But Sissel knew that he would have never have done it if it hadn't been for the chain of lies and incompetence. He simply wasn't that sort of person.
She felt her stomach tie itself into knots as the little red-haired girl on the stand pointed him out to the court, identifying him as the 'scary bad man' who had snatched her up and held a gun to her head. How was that naïve, honest child to know she had just utterly destroyed all that remained of their hopes and dreams?
There had been a glimmer of hope when the bushy-bearded detective gave his testimony. Yes, he had stolen a gun
Die deutsche Passion english translationDie deutsche Passion english translation2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
by Uwe Lammler
We live in tribes, where strife and envy
From the edge of history cries out for fratricide
We dream in forests with dense foliage,
In the fog and below the silence of the Rauhnacht,
We reign in legends, sung from far away,
Noone penetrates in the glow of our Sun Fire
And lately became a name our taint and reward
But even our becoming was always passion.
The wall of the Romans cut through our land,
The West and the South supported the enemy
And bought from outside with good profit
Amber and various household items made of tin,
But even the tamed in the Roman state,
Thought about renunciation and vile treachery,
Wakes up in the Cherusci the old teutonic spirit,
Varus will become the victim of the German passion.
Who doesn´t avoid horror, should be warned,
Death won´t be longer a suffering, the death will be passion,
Who stays close to the source, who gives birth to life,
Laughs at the fools who adorn shamefully themselves,
Barbar, which was meant a
VerdigrisThe sun was red the day Slicker died. She watched him fall a hundred levels, to shatter against a fat, reinforced gas pipe, shards of him breaking across archways and supports and cables, plummeting into the foggy void below. His blud drenched a cluster of backup valves. It dripped from the nozzles, thick and syrupy.Verdigris4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Slicker was unsticking the gears on the Bigtime, with such focus that he paid no attention to the approach of the Quickhand, making its minute-long journey around the Bigtime's face. He had clamped safety cables to the supports, but was careless. The Quickhand caught a support line, and dragged him off the gears, sending him plummeting. The Bigtime was in such poor repair that the other clamps had torn free, sending scraps of rusted steel along with Slicker to his death.
Shine had tried to shout a warning, but Slicker couldn't hear. Or wouldn't. Slicker loved his work, loved the way things ran smoothly when he was finished. Mostly, he loved it when things worked, as
4.27: SophiaWhy is it all my weary days are spent4.27: Sophia2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In turning cowslips into rays of sun
And floating over blades of grass, unbent
And drawing four conclusions out of one?
No mercy hath the stone and wooden fence
All rimmed with perfect glass which holds the sound
Of freedom outside. Dominating sense
Will pin imagination to the ground.
Forbear. The time will come when wind and rain
Will wash away the mud and dust of youth.
To cling to hope which calls aloud again
Is to rely on dust to hasten truth.
I turn my days of sunlight scattered over
And know the truth comes soon to wisdom's lover.
TearsTears are not a sign of weaknessTears3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
tears don't mean that you aren't strong
tears are pain that hid inside you
tears mean you held on for far too long
Crying doesn't mean you've given up
it doesn't mean that you are done
it does not mean that you are broken
so babe just let your sweet tears run
Each tear contains a piece of you
damaged, broken, beaten down
tears are pain you push away
tears are sadness washing out
So don't be afraid to let them run
don't hold in your glistening tears
let them pull out the damage
that you collected all your years
So Much MoreThere's something a little unnerving about a situation like this. She's leaning over him, and when he looks up, her face is right there. He's propping himself up on his elbows, her body twisted awkwardly over him, using her hands to prop herself up on either sides of him.So Much More3 years ago in Romance More Like This
But that's not what's unnerving.
What's unnerving is how they got there. They were simply practicing, her teaching him the basic moves of her culture's fighting style. It was simple, really, the movements she had been teaching him. And yet somehow his arms had jerked, what should have been an easy block of one of her attacks had gotten him, and he had been sprawled on the floor in the next moment.
His head had hit the ground and he'd been disorientated for a moment, before blinking away the blur in his eyes and looking up. There she'd been.
And that's when the unnerve ended and the shock at the whole situation shock and something else entirely different started. They locked eyes and when they looked away
You didn't dare.She smiled,You didn't dare.2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
but it was fake.
but she's about to break.
She reached out,
but no one came,
tried to fake it,
but the pain stayed the same.
This girl, she called to you,
but you didn't care.
Something told you to help,
but you didn't dare.
What would the others say?
The ones who called her a freak.
They may taunt or shun you,
so you choose not to speak.
Then she decides to leave.
Because no one wants her here.
You'll never see her cry.
She'll never shed another tear.
DFC 1: Dream GirlDream Girl,DFC 1: Dream Girl10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tell me more about your life
A life that strengthened and spun you into gold
Where one would see eyes; I see diamonds, sapphires – emeralds!
You shine as if lit by a million fires
A smile of warmth and compassion transforming an already beautiful face
You speak of dreams and futures
A family all your own
And I watch as your voracious mind attacks the status quo
You are open and honest
Resilient and vivacious
Breathing colour into all that is grey and dull
To you I would give the world
Do whatever you needed or wanted
And become the best version of myself
One day you will find me
And this letter will be yours
A testament and a pledge to you
I love you, today and forevermore
AvalonAvalonAvalon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Disaster struck upon the Earth
Chaos spread like a wildfire
And the humanity split
Turning on one another
Soon nothing was left but the bare dust of the burned
The virus spread and killed everyone
And in time the dead came back to life
Hunting the living and punishing them for their sins
The Armageddon came and we couldn't escape
The world fell in to the dust of destruction
With each day the living decay as the dead arise
With each moment the remains of humanity fade
The sun blazes over the dying lands
The dry rivers and burned fields
Only the road keeps on going forever
Only the road keeps us alive
We move from town to town looking for hope
Looking for survivors in the ruins of the old world
But with each day the hope for finding anything living fades
And all the resources draw near their end
I don't know how much we can make it
Our morals and our spirits are slowly being crushed
I try to act tough for the people but it's unbearable
It's unbearable to know that all of our belov
RecurringA very noble and seasoned Barn Owl couple was flying through the forest in which they were born, drifting along as silent as scrooms. They scouted the Forest Kingdom of Tyto intently, their diligent expressions masking the frustration and anger in their churning gizzards.Recurring2 years ago in Drama More Like This
There had been unverified reports that a rogue Barn Owl of unknown gender was attacking and killing other owls, though for what purpose was still unknown. The monarchs had sent a pair of newly-recognized Guardians from the Tracking Chaw, a female Burrowing Owl and a male Sooty Owl, to locate the murderer and bring it back to the Great Tree for questioning and punishment.
The two Guardians in question had left a week prior, and sadly, they had not returned.
The mated Tytos feared the absolute worst, and had made it their personal mission to put an end to the horror caused by the unknown owl. The Tytos could literally detect the fear laced throughout the air, and it unnerved them.
Nonetheless, they maintained their focu
Zexion and Larxene Before I start, I have to say, this is a break from Everything was fine until Series, Okays?Zexion and Larxene7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Although Christmas, to me, wasnt anything great, or special, Id have to say that I remember last year easily.
I have to say, before I start telling my story that Larxene never showed who she liked in Organization 13. And I never thought it would be me. I thought it would be Marly, or Axel, or someone else. Not me, not Zexion. I never got anything Christmas, even if I was a somebody, I didnt think I would get something for Christmas. But I did. Two things last year
I was sitting on the couch, on the side away from the heat of the fire, reading my book. I had found it wrapped up o my bed that morning; there was no card, or anything to tell me whom it was from. I was pleased of course, but I was sad that I couldnt thank the person. I had finished about five chapters so far. It was an interesting book. The covers were black lea
Stretch MarksSometimes I like to look at the cracked surfaceStretch Marks2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the ground and pretend that the rifts
and fractures are just stretch marks,
from the Earth growing up too quickly.
But the funny thing is,
I don't even know what "growing up" means.
And sometimes I question how leaves can be so green,
how flowers can grow in such extraordinary hues of scarlet and crimson,
yet still lack blood and be unable to feel.
I suppose it's because I'd like to think that
they can hear me
and understand me.
Or at least I want them to be able to.
Sometimes I get lost admiring the color of snow.
It seems so clean, so unaffected.
But after a while, it starts to turn brown,
dirtied by smog and exhaust and mud from
factories, cars, people.
And sometimes I wonder what
the Earth's heartbeat would sound like,
if it had one.
I bet lots of people would want to think
it would be stable and sharp,
but I imagine that it would be
patchy and frail.
Sometimes I like to think back to when I was younger,
how I used to draw pictures
The Man of My Dreams, And Everyone Else'sThe Man of My Dreams, And Everyone Else's2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Abby stood in the crowd of screaming fan girls. She would be screaming herself but she was so excited about seeing him, she could hardly breathe. The screams got even louder which meant he was coming. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd to get a better view. And there he was, Tom Hiddleston. He smiled and waved to the screaming girls as he passed. Only stopping to sign a few autographs. He had just finished signing one girl's, who looked like she was about to faint, when he turned and caught her gaze. He just looked at her for what felt like an eternity. She felt her heart stop beating in those few seconds. Then he gave her that winning actor smile and walked up to her. The other girls seemed to notice he reaction to her and started whispering to themselves. She felt her face flush red. He gestured for her notebook she held in her hands. She handed it to him while still staring into those sky colored eyes.
"May I ask your name?" he said to her.
"Oh, uh...I'm Abby, yeah Abby."
Never give upNever give up2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Never give up
You need to have hope
Never give up
Despite being broke
Never give up
Reach the next step
Never give up
A short-long treck
Never give up
On your dreams
Never give up
It's not as hard as it seems
Never give up
Because you're tired
Never give up
On the things you've desired
Never give up
I say it a lot
Never give up
Don't you stop
Never give up
No matter what
Never give up
Give it all you've got!
anatomy of a girl"Today, class,anatomy of a girl3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Our lesson will cover the anatomy
Of a girl."
I can hear the snickers from the back row in my head, but
That doesn't stop me from wishing that just for once,
Somebody would tell all the stupid boys just what we are,
"This girl, she's made up of
Books and words and paintbrushes
Pencils and fake smiles
And stress because her parents accept no less than As.
This one, she's got all the makings of perfect
Made up of daydreams about boys and sports,
Made up of diet pills and measuring tape and mirrors
And an unhealthy dose of self-loathing.
This one's got attitude, sharp and cutting,
To hide that she's also fearful of ridicule, of abandonment,
Of being told that she's not good enough.
This one's made of jokes and smiles that she keeps to herself,
Made of dark colors and soft words to make sure she never pops to the forefront,
To make sure she's never noticed.
This one's made up of romance novels and wistful glances out the windows,
Of long-sleeved shirts
The Broken Toy SoldierA steely cold look that shows the war torn years of a man that has seen things. Things in this life that no human would ever wish to see. A face that shows honor, determination, strength, and the lines of wisdom only a thousand year old oak could match. He smells of black oil and metallic dust as only a man can that is used to fixing everything in his life with his own two hands. His hands tremble slightly, but only when he isn't focused on a task. This is due to the years that struggle to keep up with him instead of the other way around. I look up at this tower of a man as he holds a child's toy, my toy, a toy marine. Being so young the irony is lost on me, this man that has lived a life that this toy suggests. With hands that used to command entire platoons he helps to fix the toy soldier. Looking past his glasses he smiles at me as he snaps the pieces back together. I'm in aThe Broken Toy Soldier4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Little EggsOne green morning, our fat little facesLittle Eggs1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Look out the kitchen window and
Find a robin and her nest on our windowsill.
She carries baubles and trinkets—candy
Wrappers and foil—before her vivacious
Red breast and weaves them tenderly into her nest.
My mother, laughing, says
She’s dizzy with anticipation, painting ponies
And clouds on nursery walls.
Soon enough little blue eggs fill
The happy twigs and their gaudy trappings
And the robin settles—snug, waiting.
We, too, wait for spring miracles on the
Windowsill. Weeks pass—she sits faithful—but
Eggs remain eggs.
Mother gets an odd pallor and avoids the
Kitchen window. Sometimes I think she wants to
Chase the robin away, but understands she’s dear to us.
We want to give the robin our support—she’s
Like family, now—but wonder how long it
Takes for eggs to hatch. Surely not this long?
“Sometimes things go wrong,”
Mother answers to our curiosity.
Autumn's BayThere will be no sunshine at the autumn's bayAutumn's Bay2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There will be no one waiting for the ship at the dock
As the ship will finally come to shore
There will be no humor, no songs in the wind
All will be quiet and Still
There will be no dawn for this night;
No passion to keep you awake at all night
All will be grey at the mourn of the bay
Good EveningGood Evening2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Good evening to the cliff
The one that leers above
Challenging the leap
With rubbles that tumble down
With broken hearts that finally shatter
Good evening to the sky
The one that widens 'round
Surrounding with their spattered skies
With black blooded stains
With white flaring scorns of disdain
Good evening to the sea
The one that trembles below
Waving final sayings, tides of goodbyes
With swirls of treachery
With educing calls of end
Good evening to the world
The one that doesn't care if she drowns
Ignoring her sadness, her tears, her pain
With closed ears to cries
With hearts made of stone
Of Half-Filled WordsShe is not a flutterbird.Of Half-Filled Words3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her fingers are skittish,
her smile is not.
Do not fear that you will
drive it away.
Sadness is her fumbling limb.
It is unwanted, yet
When it is January
she will tell you,
"I am still struggling.
And I am becoming so many people
all at once.
A conglomeration of beauty that
I have managed to mangle.
Please, do not be sad for me."
Sometimes her sorrow is
meant for you. But mostly her.
Those specks and spots
of ocean storm lulls
reveal her truths:
ones she does not want
to extract from herself.
Her heart is not a rabbit.
When it beats
faster, faster, faster,
you need not
run harder to catch it.