Church of ThoughtI want to build a libraryChurch of Thought4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And shelve it with every book ever burned.
I want to build a library
And invite in all the pastors and preachers and woebegone popes-
Send them wandering through the breathing books,
Willingly lost in the dust motes and the cinnamon paper and the quiet conversation of
Wilde and Shakespeare and Darwin and Plato.
I want to build a library
For all the puppets and their strings.
And there, in that long-awaited Church of Thought
Let them decide
Who the real gods are.
The Real ZombiesZombiesThe Real Zombies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You neither need a necromancer
Nor a virus in the air
The zombies are around us
Some looking like you and me
Some you can easily discover
While others remain a mystery
They don't have brain on their menu
No blood on their face
They don't move like robots
They've got elegance and grace
They are controlled by something
That's what they all share
Some want you to be like them
While others don't care
The zombies I'm talking about
Have nothing to do with movies and books
The zombies I'm talking about
Are what the media has on its hooks
What the fashion says is law
And the TV's never wrong
The internet's the world
Where those zombies belong
FracturedCall me JezreelFractured5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
though I am not. I still answer
to the name my mother gave me,
though she is not my mother; I've known her too long
and too well. Just a woman, then,
but not just a woman, just as I am not my father.
So I shall be Jezreel.
Sorry. I'll start again.
When I was my father the thorns were mine. They were my first crop
and in time inherited everything. Their spread took root
in fresh plots every day, besieging the flower pots,
coiled like barbed wire across the neighbourhood.
I watered them, proud to be a father at last, until at last
my garden walls were no longer visible from space.
My garden was a black core of walllessness
pressed against the doors. When I was my father
I couldn't see from space.
But I began to.
My husband called to me
when I was barely alive,
when the handle of the blade was stuck to my palm.
Together we gathered the dead and threw it all
to the dwindling fires. "I'm sorry," I said. The land was now a desert.
His hands were the surface of my thighs, easi
NotesTired pens scratching empty wordsNotes4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Slide-show faces lighting an indifferent room
"And that's why."
Who cares what it means?
Who cares why it matters?
Who cares if it's true?
Spew it back in a cascade of
Blind black ink
On the next blank paper sent your way.
Throw everything you know
At the red pen idol,
Who controls your future.
Who rules your past.
"Incorrect. Minus four."
Because it makes sense.
"Incorrect. Minus two."
Because you said so.
"That wasn't so hard, now,
Because agreement is more important than accuracy.
Than individual interpretation.
"And that's why."
Mission 0 pt 2Mission 0 pt 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Now where did I leave off? Hmm. witnessing my girlfriend get beatin to a pulp? Because that was the next thing I saw happening right before my eyes. It was hard enough seeing it happen to most of my friends, and, feeling their pain literally. We kept getting up just as quick as he did- but never quick enough. But seeing this happen, ha, no.
Shit just got real.
"Hey Red! Burgundy!" I shouted to Fiona and Alice, the Red and Burgundy Ranger. I didn't want to call out their names. Figuring the enemy shouldn't know anything personal of us. I talked into the mic connected within my helmet instead, "How about we do that Cannon Attack?" I asked.
" Are you sure? We haven't done any practicing on it lately you know! " Alice replied.
"What's there to practice on?!"
"We just haven't done it enough, Violet!"
"That is only because we nearly blew up the HQ twice on an attempt." I said stupidly, like she was the one right, and she knew she was.
I'm A GhostI'm not trying to creep you out or anything,I'm A Ghost3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But I'm a ghost.
When I'm on the phone, I don't say a thing, I just breathe heavily.
And I have to say, I sound heavenly.
It's like I'm singing a symphony, a monotone melody.
But they never answer it's 'cause I'm a ghost, but I just want to talk, see?
I'm not trying to creep you out or anything,
It just happens 'cause I'm a ghost,
When I run a race there's no point running with haste.
'Cause they run 30% faster when they see my face.
I'm a ghost so the police are always on my case,
Everyday, I'm tangled in an endless car chase.
Everyone hates me 'cause I once cheated in a maze race,
But what they didn't know is that I'm was being threatened to be erased.
You don't know what it feels like to pee and have fall through the floor,
To not know the difference between a wall and a door,
Being simply put on the earth by the Lord and never being born.
You don't know what it feels like only being able to listen to Korn,
Having no home, so having
Nighttime Ramblings and InsufficiencyYou drop your jaw,Nighttime Ramblings and Insufficiency3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you pull words out from
hiding, deep in your throat.
You wretch up a mass of
unfiltered, unedited, reality
because you believe that's what it is
to be understood.
You leave a trail of mutterings
wherever you go
no one will ever want me
it's not enough
and i'm sorry, i'm
so so sorry
Do you remember the difference between
a shadow and a ghost? (the world ends
the day the sun won't shine)
Instead of sleeping (maybe
tomorrow won't come if you
don't say goodnight) you wait;
you will not be remembered, and
that is the scariest part-
you were never loud enough.
i'm so sorry
The night presses too hard,
pulling you down, even though
you plead for one more day to prove
you aren't just passing through.
In the margins, you breathe:
SurvivalSurvival.Survival3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish he will eat for a life time.
Give a man a gun he will rob a bank.
Give a man a bank he will rob the world.
We adapt and adjust.
Constantly dithering on the cusp
Of what is considered wrong and right,
Ensuring that our ambitions remain in sight.
We would be willing to do anything
In order to get what we truly desire.
We would be willing to risk everything
Even putting our friends in the line of fire.
We may share the bounty with others,
Allowing them to experience the fruitful taste.
Given the option we will even care for our brothers.
Just as long as we are well endowed with songs of praise.
We are opportunists.
We are convincing and ruthless.
We are the modern day Judas.
Ignorance is FearIgnorance is Fear3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecency of your own nature.
In the end, you know nothing,
because you are nothing.
SacrificeThe old temple of ancient god Set was in almost complete ruin. Once the god resided here with his maidens and priestesses but now only the desert wind was playing with the walls and making the strange, cry-like sounds. On the ruined and cracked floor, on one of the broken columns was seating young red-haired man in white robes and black leather trousers with a lot of chains. He had this malicious smile on face that was the sign he had something...well, malicious on his mind. On the ground was kneeling young woman; she was crying.Sacrifice3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Say my name" the man said it with amusement in his voice.
The woman stopped crying for a second and looked with fear in her eyes on the red-haired man. The man didn't expect her to co-operate that soon; he leaned in his seat and crossed his arms.
"So you are the sacrificial lamb" he laughed. "I will never understand these peasants. I won't stop killing them, even if they bring me all their beautiful women they have. Village after village, town after town...I
Listen O'LordListen O'Lord3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Taken aback, never have I been so ashamed...
And lo by the brethren of my very faith!
Bestow upon them your grace,
sweet Heavens above,
For they realize not
the ignorance of their arrogance.
Forgive them my Lord, as I cannot...
Many attempts have I made
To make amends...
Yet they continue to abase and abash
Those whom can truly claim witness
to your infinite truth.
Their judgment should come from me not,
for I wish them to make their way
to the shores of the ocean of their making...
where they may drown within their asininity,
to which their ways now lead them,
Moths to a frenzied flame.
I fear I must now express
My views of us, your flock.
As I have so boldly expressed them
to my mistaken kin,
with only a hint of lended ears...
We are flawed O'Lord!
But of course, I mean no insult!
As I hold absolution to your greatest plan!
Yet I feel I must speak up,
And let my confessions pour out,
over my vile human tongue...
And I will do so out of faith...
These words, Father,
come both from fea
Woahh I Wrote a JoshDae Thing---Woahh I Wrote a JoshDae Thing3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The room is spinning. It's spinning and you feel heavy as hell and quite frankly, you're glad that your bangs hide as much of your face as they do because you're currently having trouble keeping your eyes open to the normal width of someone who isn't completely intoxicated. Honestly, though, you're probably one of the drunkest bodies here and by this point, you have no idea how long this drinking game has been going on or when Jason had moved to lay on the floor in front of you. Are you even playing anymore? The shot glass is still in your hand…
You lazily survey the room, brows furrowed and head feeling wobbly and off-balance. Joshwa's sitting next to you with a half empty bottle of vodka –some fuckin' awesome vodka, you might add- sitting in his lap. He's definitely drunk, but nowhere near as drunk as you are right now. Really, it almost starts to piss you off and you frown slightly, but then you remember that he's basically a veteran in drinking and might as well be an official
The Meaning Of LifeThe meaning of life,The Meaning Of Life3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is to live everyday.
Is to look around you and smile.
To do what you want or need,
Because what is good today might me bad tomorrow,
But what is bad today may have good effects on the future.
The meaning of life,
Is to grow old and look back,
And not to shed a tear of despair at a wasted life,
Nor a frown of spite at missed event.
But to look back and smile,
and know there is nothing you would change.
The meaning of life,
Is not to curse and hate,
But to laugh and love.
Not to regret,
Because what ever you regret,
Was exactly what you had wanted at that time.
The meaning of life,
Laughter and Anger,
The meaning of life is what ever you want it to be.
Night Time HungerThe creature of the darknessNight Time Hunger3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Leads an endless life of despair.
The horrors of an eternity
Captured in that haunted stare.
Only on All Hallow's Eve
May he venture undetected.
His luminous skin and unusual ways
Pass by us unsuspected.
He wishes to befriend you.
He will charm you with his grace.
He'll marvel at the glorious beauty
Of your mortal face.
Alas, this friendship cannot last.
His control cannot endure.
You accept your death with open arms,
Entranced by his allure.
That dreadful night time hunger.
That wretched, lustful thirst.
The insatiable desires
Of the one forever cursed.
Ashamed of his regrettable acts,
Brushing off a blood-stained tear,
He returns unto his resting place
To sleep until next year.
The creature of the darkness
Leads an endless life of despair
Clinging to a mortal self,
Which simply is not there.
Padded CellForsaken in the darknessPadded Cell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where hope has no meaning
silence becomes a fiend
but the voices,
they are a comfort,
abandoned by all others
they remain, always there
always a reminder,
even in the deepest darkness,
in the pit of despair
she is never alone,
the hallow laughter
becomes the only sound she hears,
but she never becomes aware
that the laughter
is her own.
AskAsk me what you want to knowAsk3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whatever you want
Whenever you want
Everything you might possibly want to know about me
To ask everything
I ask you:
But it doesn't mean that I'll answer.
A broken heart [homestuck drabble]A broken heart [homestuck drabble]3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Eridan Ampora, the loner, the destroyer of hope. The one troll that had none of his quadrants filled, or it seemed so. [name] a troll with [color] blood, and long curvy horns, was his friend. She had always liked him. And she understood how lonely and alone he was. She herself had been alone for a while. But now most of her quadrants where filled. She had a moirail, Terezi pyrope. She even had convinced Sollux Captor to become her kissmesis while he had sworn to NEVER get a kissmesis, he'd be fine with a matesprit. But both he and [name] were sexually attracted to each other, while they both felt some kind of hate. Yet there was one person she wanted to share that one special loving quadrant with. Matesprites. But eridan didn't notice, he was too busy with feferi. Always busy with that fishy girl. Or with Sollux, who already had his kissmesis quadrant filled with her gog damn it.
[name] was sitting in the huge shared hive, shared with Feferi, Sollux, Nepeta, Karkat and Eridan. Wh
It's Your Sick WorldYou're bold, you're stupid, the blame game is your friend.It's Your Sick World3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pointing fingers, shouting names,
none of them your own.
Swollen bellies, teenage bodies, where's the father,
why the bother?
Drugs replacing, mind is racing, colours facing, love escaping.
Designer brands determine friendships,
the popular ruining it all.
See the girl in the chair, dead in the centre,
judged, broken, offended, broken.
What do you do?
Judge, break, offend, BREAK!
Tear down the creative,
shatter the artistic.
This is your life,
walking a fake line.
Cherish it, or don't.
It's your sick world.
Within Chains: Chapter 30 TrappedWithin Chains: Chapter 30 Trapped3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chapter 30 Trapped
"I have the boy Gorko and thanks to that little stunt he will be punished! I'll bring him in so you can see what you did!"
I get up and make towards the exit.
I have to get out of here!
Who knows when Ghirahim will return and who knows what he will do to me when he does.
How did this happen?
Why does this happen?
I know I always repeat these same words when he has me but I need to know why. Why is he so obsessed with me? Is it because he is my enemy that he has this sick desire to molest me?
Does he do this to weaken me? Does he try to degrade my spirit? My being? To make me have no desire to fulfill the mission I was born to do? Is he trying to scare me?
I have only been afraid of one thing in my entire life.
I was horrified the day Ghirahim's tornado stole her from me.
Even if it wasn't my mission to save her I would either way...like Groose. I cant bare the thought of never seeing her again.
That has always been my
ParasiteParasiteParasite3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
draining your life,
all of you.
Can you see?
All that you have
now belongs to me.
Your life, your goods,
to sate my thirst.
I feel satisfied
while you fall, hurt.
I'll need more,
I'll drain and drain.
Addicted and guilty,
you'll allow your parasite
again and again.
A Darker EmotionIt is merely the darker form of inspiration....A Darker Emotion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the more destructive breed.
The darkened walk of pride.
The blackened eyes of vanity.
It is nothing short of parasitism
In the disguise of bitter emotion.
It is the vengeful look upon the victims face.
It is the words of shear anger from forsaken lips.
It is action without reason.
Unseen by the light,
as it hides in the shadows.
The most powerful forbidden Fruit of Feeling...Hatred
A darkened passion, fuelled by malevolence and desire.
It is the expanse of the human mind,
that is just shy of insanity.
in the world human nature.
Such is only mere, yet pure hatred...
Lelouch x Reader - Somebody To Die For Part 3Lelouch’s POV:Lelouch x Reader - Somebody To Die For Part 35 months ago in Romance More Like This
As I ran breathlessly towards the front door, I analyzed every possible angle of my plan for flaws. Unfortunately, there were too many unknown elements which prevented me from deducing the likelihood of its success. But I had to do it; many lives were at stake, including Suzaku, my best friend.
Suzaku was battling one of the creatures, drawing its attention away from me. Suzaku was undoubtedly a good fighter, but to be honest, his odds of killing it were extremely low. Our only chance of eliminating all of the creatures at once was to activate the emergency evacuation procedure, but to do that, one of us had to go to the control room in the next building and override the security controls.
I finally reached the door and my eyes rested upon her.
Lelouch seemed calm and collected. He was probably analyzing the situation and formulating a plan. The thought brought about a thin smile on my lips. But as he came closer, I
MiracleTwenty-one years old with only minutes to live.Miracle5 years ago in Sketches More Like This
The girl on the stretcher shakes at the heart of a storm of EMTs racing the gurney, a string of distressed relations running after. Certain death, a flash infection, quickly now to the quarantine room; there'll be more than one life at stake when hell breaks loose.
Halls, corners, a twirl through bleak doors and into a place with one door, no windows, and a bed for dying on. The young woman is lifted onto the plastic mattress. Her eyes are frantic, fixed on something horribly distant, her mouth clenches and gapes, her fingers shake themselves to blurs. Baby, baby, oh my baby. The dad is at her head, big hands clench the steel bedframe like the brink of hell, tears trickle openly into his beard as he struggles to speak to his dying child, a million minutes wouldn't be enough to say what he needs to and the doctor is saying there may be less than ten.
Three rooms distant the chest of the second victim heaves.
The mom is as shaken as