I Love YouI love you more than anythingI Love You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
more than anyone,
I'll miss you more than I miss anything,
even the bliss that I had lost
I want you more than my hidden desires
that tug at my aching heart
But it seems that you have ran off,
out of my arms,
and out of sight
And I'm sorry
for saying all the wrong words,
and being all the wrong things.
I love you
so even if you don't come back,
my love will forever be for no one but you.
I don't careI no longer careI don't care3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's just a mere wound,
just another drop of blood,
and just a little sob.
It becomes routine,
part of the coldness of your hearts.
Please tell me why God has chosen me
to live on this planet.
Somberly, along this oppressive path.
I wanted nothing.
And you got everything.
time is a tornado.time is a tornadotime is a tornado.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that brings destruction and demolition
as all tornadoes do
they rip holes in brick walls
carefully sealed together
by the calloused hands of man
once it was a simple breeze
that breathed upon the sunshine rays
of my fresh apple childhood
before it was ridden with worms
that rotted its thick skin
slowly, slowly, the wind
and began to swirl
stealing away my held breath
so time is a tornado
and it's all
WaitI have to take a second look,Wait3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
delve into the past that has shaped the sufferings of my mind,
I stepped on the shards of the mirror,
my blood covers the floor.
I realize that I am barefoot, that I am not breathing.
Who is this?
A scar sits upon my chest, from where I attempted
to pierce my lungs,
but the few tears I cried
were those of happiness.
What have I become?
I am confused,
all the papers have been scattered, and I search
for the one that bears the truth,
as soon as the building is set to flames.
I inhale the smoke.
Too familiar of a feeling.
Resolution Diary2007Resolution Diary2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Make first million after starting own business.
Applied for a loan. Declined due to excessive account activity. Note: Constant purchasing of rare (albeit mint) wicker chairs is not conducive to bank balance. Wife insistent on selling wicker chairs to find money to start business.
Bought new donut recipe book. Learnt how to make category hard donut, 'Diamond Swizzler'. Delma loves them.
James offered to lend the money if he can become a business partner. Potential.
First million still a long way off. Wife still nagging.
Spent savings on replacing the roof of the conservatory when neighbor's tree uprooted in the November storm.
Update: Dogs should never be fed over two donuts a day. Next Year's Resolution likely…? Find enough money to take Delma to the vets. And make more realistic resolution idea.
Find an appropriate business idea.
You and ILingering through my dreams,You and I3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Grasping my hand,
in a gentle dance,
across the field of swaying flowers.
Holding you close,
embracing against the shine of the sun,
soothed by the touch of the wind.
And laying in the rain,
just you and I,
hoping to be yours till the end of time.
I close my eyes,
till the beating of the rain
Dear HumanDear Human,Dear Human3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You continue to write in me. You take a pen and mark my pages with memories. Why do you do this? I cannot help you; I cannot accompany you through your life. You will write in me and then what you write will stay hidden beneath my cover. These words do not solve any of your troubles, or make any of your joys greater. Why do you continue to write? I do not care what happened to you on March 16th, be that March 16th in 2002 or March 16th in 2012. I do not care.
I do not care what happens from day to day, the world outside which I have not seen in years. I am shut in a drawer in a desk that never changes. I do not know the people whose names you scrawl, sometimes with hate, which fills me, sharp words, sharp tip of the pen, stabbing, carving deep symbols, these words that indent other pages, stretching deeper, impaling me with your passions. I hate these names, these people, these deeds, with such hate that I cannot think beyond the fresh ink. The next page is blank and sends
Innocence of the LostLook at the little girl,Innocence of the Lost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who wishes to be a beautiful ballerina,
In a dream where she'll twist and twirl.
With happiness in her childish laugh,
And no inkling of the meaning of wrath.
Look at the little boy,
Who wishes to be a courageous commander,
In his fantasy all the demons he'll destroy.
With ignorance in his youthful mind,
And no warning of what future he'll find.
Look at the weary woman,
With a frown on her fragile face,
She's doing the best she can.
All hope in her heart is gone,
But for all her woes she'll carry on.
Look at the moody man,
With a grimace upon his grim grin,
He's tired of his life's plan.
Now he sits with a cigarette in his hand,
Knowing his dreams are but ashes in the sand.
A Letter of ApologyDear everyone,A Letter of Apology3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
People of my world.
I write to you now, an apology.
For hiding, for hating, for faking.
Hiding from you,
Fearing your rejection blindly.
Assuming the worst,
When all you want is what's best.
Such jealousy for you.
Your beauty, your talent, your intellect,
The qualities I never saw in myself.
Faking that smile,
Pretending everything was fine.
You'd laugh honestly,
And I'd cry out in pain through a chuckle.
People of my world.
This is my written apology,
For never being able to enjoy life.
What Is A Good Book?What is a good book?What Is A Good Book?3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
A good book disappears in your hands. A good book ceases to be pages covered in words. Punctuation becomes natural pauses or tones in a voice, in the language composed of words defined and given meaning by the reader's mind. A good book does not exist in your hands. It exists in the mind. It enters and remains. It unfolds, slowly or rapidly. It builds figures with blurred features, whose emotions and characters stand out to you and are seen by you each moment you turn your eyes in their direction - you often forget their surface. You are able to forgive an ugly character for being ugly, because you do not see the character's face. You see the character's soul, and if it appeals to you, you may fall in love with a lame, battered, and malformed beast. If the soul is wonderful, the figure is wonderful an ideal judgment humans praise but do not practice.
A good book is a good book when the author's imagination is planted within the reader's mind, where two creat
My LinesI write,My Lines3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Alone in the dark,
On my skin,
Until I see the red lines.
Usually within a day.
The lines last,
And burn the paper.
With nowhere to turn.
No where to run,
No one to understand,
The paper quickly fills.
Soldier-boyGo on ahead little soldier-boySoldier-boy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
make your mama proud.
Serving your country with loyalty,
your courage knows no bounds.
Keep your head up, soldier-boy,
a cold gun is in your fingers,
and although days have passed,
the memories will always linger.
Keep praying good ol' soldier-boy
as bombs paint across the sky.
Your friends are in a better place
no time for you to cry.
Don't stop moving my brave soldier-boy
the sun has not yet set
the enemy is closing in
one shot is all that's left.
Hold your breath scared soldier-boy
the fiends are at your tail
they'll hunt you down mercilessly
as your mission is marked 'fail'
Close your eyes dear soldier-boy
and pray up to your God.
The pain is building in your chest
and your vision is getting flawed.
It will be over soon sweet soldier-boy
as some bunker down and cry
the fight for you is over
some men were born to die.
Goodbye my brave soldier-boy
your life burned out like an ember.
Your sacrifice wasn't for naught.
And we will always remember.
PastThe past is the pastPast3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That's what they said
The past is the past
No reason to be sad
The future is tomorrow
Today a glorious gift
Prepare for tomorrow
It will give you a lift
Don't wonder about yesterday
It's never to return
Embrace the coming day
That's what you need to learn
Behind you is Forever Gone
In front of you Success
Bear the pain and be it gone
The pieces of your mess
The past is the past
Whichever path you took
The past is the past
Don't you dare to look
Away from NeverNeverLandMoney is dirty. Leaves invisible yuck on a person; stains fingers, smears over skin and catches under nails. Festers. And then hands turn into pincers to take and eyes small greedy and black. Skin hardens to bounce back ugly words and back curves under weight of things. Lobsters, fat and red.Away from NeverNeverLand3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Marriage is scrubbed. Clean and pretend. Perfect white dresses and kisses put and planted. Brides march and grooms promise so hard. Military of gowns with bow tie generals. An army of high heels and flowers landed in laps. Marriage spreads. Infects. Zombiefying disease. Shuffle, I do, brains.
Driving is fickle. Slide into each other, through each other. Blood and bits go with them. People cry over tombs and insurance papers. Or nothing. Home again, uneventful day. Locked behind wheel, over tarmac, lights suspended like vultures above. Danger, danger. Promise of convenience. Thrill. Like riding a shark.
Work is uniformed. Slotted, easy, organized files. Tags meaning le
Deep ScarsThis girl lost her chance at beautyDeep Scars3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
This man can no longer see
This boy lost his hero
His dreams crushed for what he wanted to be
This lady grew old
This homeless man sits alone and cold
This guy is religious
But to whom his soul is sold?
This one is a drug addict with a crave
This man stands looking at a grave
This one gave his final goodbye wave
Millions of us
Yet no one knows who we are
All across the land
We all have long and deep scars
This man sings the blues
This man could only stand by
This girl held a pool cue
This police man couldn't understand why
This teenager needed stitches
This cranky old man just sits in his chair and bitches
This lady withheld her reasons
This child knew he wouldn't see the next season
Millions of us
Yet no one knows who we are
All across the land
We all have long and deep scars
This man was betrayed
This girl had her innocence taken away
This boy curled into a ball to hope tomorrow will be a better day
This man slashed his wrists
This woman was held d
A message to BulliesHello bullies, boy or girl,A message to Bullies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who drove us where we are,
We have a message,
To each and everyone of you,
We've been blamed,
For what you say,
Or what you've done,
But that's a lie,
The teachers never admit,
That their favorite is bad,
They'll pawn it off on us,
To the very end,
We've put up with everything,
From the names like four-eyes,
To tied to playground equipment,
But most of us snapped,
Teachers may have tried to help,
Yet they were all to late,
Because of your torment and ridicule,
We were broken beyond repair,
Some turned to death for safety,
Others to pain and suffering,
Maybe they made it through,
But with anger and distrust,
None of us though,
Made it through whole,
Because you still have one peice,
And that's our happiness,
Not all of it, but some,
We've tried to move on,
Without that peice,
But it's not the same,
We were alone,
We were taunted,
We were torment,
We were nothing,
Except a toy,
For you to play with,
And tossed away,
Never to be seen again.
The SparrowQuestions from the eye, how do we know if the sparrow cries,The Sparrow3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For its release from the unjust mechanics of life,
If its wings are torn and its skin bare,
While its forgotten feathers float through the air,
How do we know if the sparrow cries?
Dawns ancient ring, when was the last time for a sparrow to sing,
Giving the gift of unnamed enchantress by way of whimsical melodies,
Floating about in the forest with not a care to be seen,
As bright rays of sun hit miniature eyes and traced perfect wings,
When was the last time for a sparrow to sing?
As the moon rises high, would you even care if the sparrow were to die?
Gasping for its last breath with a mind wreaking havoc, though a demeanor quiet,
Fear crippling its every limb, with haste to show that it is running out of precious time,
With the sparrow having never been given the option to fly, simply fly away from its untimely demise,
Would you shed so much as a single tear; would you even care if the sparrow were to die?
InvisibleInvisibleInvisible3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Can you see me?
I mean really see me!
Can you see my heart?
It bleeds for the broken
Can you see my smile?
It is a painted lie
Can you hear my cries?
They are very quiet
Can you see my tears?
They flow endlessly
But do you know what I see?
I see a wasted world smothered by hate, greed and war
I see heart break and liars
I hear screams of our ancestors
They are ashamed
I hear children cry from neglect, abuse, hate
But others are blind to it
Believe the lies fed to us by the hands of the devil
They see nothing
And before you know it
Our pain isn't invisible
Six Word Challenge: 9/11I won't forget because I loved.Six Word Challenge: 9/113 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Here he lies.Here lies the hypocrite,Here he lies.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shocked and ashamed at the next generation.
Saddened by their exploits, their debauchery,
Disgusted by their stupidity and judging their changes.
He stops, and thinks about himself.
One year ago.
What that person say to the one now?
Would he be surprised?
Would he be disappointed?
Would he be upset, confused, scared?
Without a doubt.
Here lies the hypocrite,
passing judgement till the cows come in.
WaitingYou don't realize how freaky hospitals are until you walk down the halls full of old people. Everything's always so quiet. Doctors with hushed-but-rushed tones scurry around, and when you finally get to the room-- sharply cut, small and like a deformed heptagonyou look at your father's fake leather slippers which are a red plaid in the inside, your blue middle school track bag your father uses for work and travel, cans of ginger ale and water on the small slender table, and it hits you. Your father was here.Waiting3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Despite this room having light copper doors, light sky blue and white walls, there is a huge red sign which in seventy-two font Times New Roman says the two words, "BLEEDING PRECAUTIONS." Then there is the odd off-white television, the weird tannish white tiled floor, and the window that is literally one side of the wall. You look out, only to see past the trees, is a movie theater playing the movie you missed.
Now you are in the "FAMILY WAITING AREA," or at least
Midnight Story LullabyTell me your starry wishes so I can misplace them on butterfly wings,Midnight Story Lullaby3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
& the nightmares you breathe will be the voices that always remind you:
(sing me a lullaby)
because your childhood
stories are haunting my
The monsters in your
closet are those
you abandoned in
so you could catch
reality on time.
But I'll be your infectious memory
that you'll never want to get rid of.
tencourage must be a dominant trait,ten2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for how else could you handle
a pin-pulled grenade
with such delicacy
Confession of a MagpieBecause I cannot nest stars orConfession of a Magpie3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
clutch galaxies, I steal trinkets.
My children too will leave me.
We have no memories
of great consequence, so I
find comfort in gum wrappers,
discarded coins, misplaced or
things taken for granted.
I sing to them a human song:
blessings for the lonely
traveler with feathers in his wake.