Remembering the boyRemembering the boy8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Through these teary eyes,
I see misty eyes looking back at me,
needing more then I can give.
Heaven knows where I belong.
I'll pack my bags tonight,
take the early flight.
Time to leave,
or I'll surly die,
get on the train,
in the pouring rain,
Say farewell ,
lets not say goodbye.
Each beat from my heart,
pulls us feather apart,
Now I'm lost,
feeling lonely in the dark.
Have a glass of wine,
just for old times,
remembering the boy,
I left behind.
I miss him now,
in my darkest hour,
just the way,
that we lay.
Let the breeze lift me,
carry me across the sea,
across the land,
in his arms,
that's where I belong.
Let us have a toast,
lets make the most,
Sip this blood red wine.
Physically ImpossibleLight connects and locksPhysically Impossible4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with Darkness, but the two can --
MAYAMAYAMAYA7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
An Indian Eunuch
Nulliverse solecism of human creation sacrilegious life of non-acceptance, no understanding. All my dreams swirling around this one theme roan mists coldly lacerating every hope and aspiration the world to which somnolence draws me each night and the one to which I relegate with every scornfully fresh morning.
The gentle but helplessly hoarse whispers of my comrades
are the tunes to which I am welcomed on awakening. Rustling crisp synthetic saris of all atrocious colors embellishing our atrociously dappled lives sting my vision. I sit up, stiff and sore from the war with the earth trying to swallow me during the night. Another of my glass bangles broken, accosting some more of that cursed blood to evaporate into the inexorable air puzzling isnt this the air that they breathe too? All the lavish landlords who consider me an ill omen, all the sorted people who run when they look at me, all the khaki uniformed guards
Asexualboys are crazyAsexual7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
girls are illicit
for some unapproved of grace
or a dire need to assimilate
don't want to choose
don't want to loose
the quill never leaves
the one spot
the ink grows
into a large dot
eats the paper
devours the thought
GrammarWe're not "Grammar Nazi's"...Grammar5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
We are English Aesthetics Enthusiats.
Jack x Michael WGI hate discos.Jack x Michael WG3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I hate everything about 'em the flashing lights, the mindless 'meeting sprees' and the crap music.
I don't know what I'm doing here. I could be at home, doing nothing.
This dark room is so crowded; it's hot and sweaty. I can't breathe. Maybe if I was with someone I wouldn't feel so irritated. Maybe if I wasn't huddled over my phone, seated at the smallest table at the back of the club and instead had joined my friends on the dance floor I might be enjoying myself more. Though they look like retards, the lot of 'em.
I hate this song. I've hated every song so far. Instinctively, I bring my ipod to the highest possible volume but not even A Toute Le Monde can block out the ridiculous repetitive electric beats.
And I can't go home either. Fucking Richard's Dad is picking us up at twelve and they don't actually let anyone out until they're assured their lift is at the door. This is a shit club.
"I'm debating murdering you in my sleep with a machete," I inform Tony, as
Unknown GenderI will never know who I am.Unknown Gender4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Emotions are a terrible thing.
Your mind, is there to work against you.
There are days...
I feel more like a man than a woman.
Although, I am not transgender.
I embrace being a woman.
At the same time... I wish I could be one or the other.
I wish I was a beautiful feminine girl, or just a boy.
Even if I were a guy...
I'd want to be a little feminine.
With a dick, and I'd dress up like I have tits.
I hate feeling like this.
It makes me hate myself.
I'll never be happy, the way I am.
Blonde hair, Brown hair.
Short or long...
Piercings or a tattoo.
Bra's or bonding.
Man or Woman.
I want to be a girl, a pretty one.
I'd like to be beautiful, with all the guys chasing after me.
Turning them down would be oh so fun.
Or even a guy,
I'd be hott and incredibly sweet.
Each of my lovers would be treated with the most respect.
When in life, will I know what's wrong?
How can I know... what would make me happy?
How do I go about being both?
Who doesnt love strippersSupple rounded sweetsWho doesnt love strippers4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like firmed gelatin,
Mounds of delicious eye candy
Your ass dances, jiggles, bounds before me
Almost a slow motion show,
As wet cotton whites fall to the floor
Money under Cinderellas glass slippers
No sacrifice without reward
Beautiful lady I wittingly decree
Some days there are reoccurring dreams,
A man becomes a metal pole,
Squeezed between your taunt thighs
That, that is the scent of happy
Love and HeartsStitched together, never apartLove and Hearts1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The strings of trust bind our hearts
Their own kokoro
Our infinite bond
The bond of two lovers;
They will always be apart
The sad fate of love will always remain
The music flowed slowly throug The music flowed slowly through my finger tips. The vibrato of each and every note leaving a hollow sound in this empty apartment. At a snail's pace, the song's opening progresses, though, every hollow note is beginning to be filled with an unfamiliar emotion. I stand straighter and close my eyes, to see the emotion and colors I am feeling.The music flowed slowly throug1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
As the melody hits, the sorrowful tones of the G and D strings in unison taking the air in this bare room and transforming it. Becoming suffocating, the sharp fourth's onto the E string bringing back the oxygen. I ride to high heavan on the hauntingly beautiful lyrics of the music this instrument is making, my figure rocking with every wave, pouring every possible emotion my being has into this, forcing myself to empty my mind of anything more than that of which this music is bringing out of me.
Swaying, I become more animated at the simple sixteenth notes transform into thirty-second notes. Crossing strings at a break-neck pace, the song q
JournalSo I had this dream last night that I thought would make an epic sonic storyJournal1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Basically its about Sonic is a king of these two big huge places and he i stressed with the economic issues going on through them. Elsewhere a new character (idk where they came from) discovered these parasites that basically turn you mad. So he discovers they dont affect them but they feed of blood to get stronger. So he take them into his fur and skin and they start growing stronger.
Sonic's guards arrest him for black marketing and drag him into custody. Sonic interrogates him, but what neihter of them no is that the parasites have already started to travel
Elsewhere at one of the city shops the owner gets infected his eyes go bloodshot and black and he started raving and ranting and screaming and yelling and throwing stuff so Sonic has to intercept and this infected man starts going on about how Sonic is the reaon the world is suffering and as the infction spreads so does this reason
So everyone starts tea
LaF: The Grim Reaper 8 FINALSantiago groaned as he awoke. He still hurt all over from the wounds Reaper had inflicted on him in their struggle and he was still somewhat light-headed. The bull felt a gnawing sensation in his gut as he thought of the fight. Remembering that he had not managed to get breakfast that morning he dismissed it as hunger, but he knew the feeling of hunger well, and there was something different about this.LaF: The Grim Reaper 8 FINAL1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Santiago!" A familiar cheerful cawing met his ears and Tat landed in front of him, a smile on his face, "You're awake! We were worried that you weren't going to make it for a moment there." The catoblepas didn't reply, "We're glad you're awake."
"Glad you're awake." Vac parroted, landing next to her companion. Santiago let out a little snort,
"You did it, Santiago, you won. One round down!" The older crow told him, "One step closer to gaining what we- you lost." The bull frowned staring at Tattle through his mane,
"W-" A memorable sing-song voice interrupted the group's exchange,
Non-responsiveThere's no response , there's no reply.Non-responsive1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Don't even care and don't ask why.
All the words remain unspoken.
You're just dead-unclean-and-broken.
Can't give the answers 'cause you don't know-'em.
Don't have feelings?
You just can't show-'em.
Martyrs are demons for the kingsThe kings watched mama tear down her diamond tree,Martyrs are demons for the kings1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
watched her carry her burdens through the eyes of her children,
through the thick cough syrup and steady violet evenings with no one there to stop the
surrender of emotions swelling in her abdomen.
With veins full of iron, we watched her melt. She Gave the kings her diamonds so they wouldn't leave, but even kings leave their jewels.
Life of sinTrapped and caged inLife of sin1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Living a life of sins
This is where my story begins
Early in the morning and late at night
I put up a fight
I will not quit
This can't be it
I refuse to sink
Give me time to think
Made a move
though too soon
Pay my debt
Face the doom
And pray that there's something left
Of this wreck I call myself
A Musician's HandsThe hands I feel are weaved for song and playA Musician's Hands1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A move of art to string the harp from years
to years, from note to note, knowing God steers
Every finger to its place without stray
Music is life for these hands so display
A sound, a tune, a gift to shed blue tears
upon a wet long face of spilt cold beers
A tip to the jar; the bar or café
No more these hands will sing aloud their song
Their years are numbed by frozen lengths of wind
lost to memories of music so long
that time has brought and beaten, curled and pinned
But yes these hands were weaved for song and play
and these again they will always display
RequiemYou did not die gracefully.Requiem1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You did not go quietly into the night,
But kicked and screamed with all your might.
You fought against your setting sun,
Refusing to believe your life was done.
In your friends you were mistaken,
By your God you were forsaken.
No salvation, resurrection, redemption;
No everlasting comforting connection.
Your body ate itself from inside out
'til hope was gone beyond every doubt.
Yet still your head you would not bow;
To your inevitable fate kowtow.
You never once admitted you would die;
Never saw your life pass you by.
Death had to chase you, talons wide,
As from his clutches you did hide.
These words writ here, so very trite
Cannot convey your awful fight.
I miss you still.
Phobia 34Acousticophobia, Ligyrophobia, PhonophobiaPhobia 341 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Decibels that can damage
More than just hearing.
cheapWhen did poetry become so cheap?cheap1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
An obscene stand-in for love
A perverted sense of belonging
Or solitude from a different view
Never Walk Solo Chapter 4Dawn lifted her chin."I'll join your gang, or whatever it is. I need a different environment, see, and I'm starting to get tired about being a house pet." She mewed. Boxer nodded his head, watching Dawn as she squeezed through the hole in the wall. Boxer jumped onto the rusty window sill and called out. "Loyal members, join to listen what I have to say!" He called. The shadows seemed to move as cats started to emerge. Two jumped up beside Boxer. The shortest one had only a stump for a tail, and dark ginger fur. The other one had reddish-brown fur and a bushy tail. Boxer's collar was studded in spikes which caught the moonlight and glinted. "We haven't fought for some time, and I know your skills are starting to weaken, and you are all turning into softclaws!" There was a great protest at this, cats yowling with disagreement. Dawn sat silently, wondering what a softclaw was. She turned to the nearest cat, who looked like a recent member. Her grey fur was unscarred, and her eyes didn't qNever Walk Solo Chapter 41 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Leap of FaithMaybe it's another chance,Leap of Faith1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
to fix indiscretions from before.
The new challenge that's brought,
a chance for my heart to soar.
I yearn for love I once had,
it seems only melancholy was on tap.
I believe I've waited for this moment,
to finally crash into my lap.
Fear grips the recesses within me,
when I allow myself to hope.
Perhaps I've forgotten how it feels,
to sigh happiness and not mope.
It's that wonderful and terrifying,
something worth moving toward.
Here goes nothing my dear,
that faith to blindly leap forward.
Silly things.Their not silly.Silly things.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yes they are.
Seen near and far.
'Chew, chew, chew!'
says the mother,
cooing to her fussy child.
'Eat and grow strong.'
'Chew, chew, chew!'
says the toddler to himself,
as he gnaws
on the end of that No.2 pencil.
'Run, Run, Run.'
Says the trainer,
encouraging his client.
'Run to get better!'
Says the burglar,
trying to outrun the cop car.
'Stop this habit, it's none to fun.'
It's easy to see.
Whether it be fishing
Or maybe wishing,
upon that one bright,
Chapter 3 of A Dog FallsChapter 3Chapter 3 of A Dog Falls1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
AN: Rebecca, an OC, is (c) by me.
Within the hallowed halls of Middleton High, Veruca Salt walked outside the gym while the whole squad was on break. She was wearing her infamous evil smile of triumph, indicating one of her many evil deeds.
It's all going well for me! The sweet pop album of myself is gonna come out tonight on the net, she said to herself, walking past D Hall.
Veruca's eyes darted down to her MP3 player studded in purple diamonds, listening to her own music from a previous album a couple of years before.
Suddenly, she heard a familiar squeaking of tennis shoes coming right up the hallways of Middleton High.
One of her cheerleading friends, Rebecca, came up to her, running up the hallway. She had jet-black hair and a Caucasian-complex and a few noticeable freckles on her face. Like all the other cheerleaders of Middleton High, she had the same purple cheerleading uniform of everyone else within the squad.
The brown-haired peanut deb sighed and asked, "What the