Hetalia AU Fic: The Bowman and The Stag (UKCan)By Raven DunbarHetalia AU Fic: The Bowman and The Stag (UKCan)2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
December 19th 2012
A hunter stepped lightly amongst the sun dappled trees. He paused for a moment to get his baring. He’d never strayed into this part of the forest before. There was something eerie about it despite it being earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he never had a chance to stray this far into King Francis’s woodland territory. The Sheriff had always managed to show up before he could, and while he’d only been spotted once or twice before, Arthur tried his best to avoid being caught. He was an outlaw in ever sense of the word. He never was fond of the King or his Sheriff and made that very obvious.
He glanced back over his shoulder and listened. Nothing. Deciding to push his luck this time, he moved further into the trees. He had a good feeling about today. It was rumoured that some of the finest game remained cloaked in the deepest parts of the forest. He could feed himself for days if he felled a Royal Stag. He’d
Alphabetical, By AuthorIn the groping shallows of every chest, they are waiting with daggers long renamed as switchblades by an unenthusiastic, literal generation.Alphabetical, By Author3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They who speak through fleshy masks of breakable humanity.
They who choose the words which must be uttered for dramatic effect, pathetic fallacies and melodrama be damned like Lucifer and all poor devils doomed to drown.
They who are watching even now to ensure that I remain didactic and depressive in my phrasing.
They who would have me die of ravens while secretly despising Poe and all which follows in the suffixes
They who are me, and you, and every dresser-drawer and piece of wall left empty or exposed in a teenager's bedroom.
They who would have me end each sentence as if it were
Who slipped the flesh in shivering gasps from my 30 million mad comrades as they sang incomprehensible poetry to the ceilings of reason and rationalization until there was nothing left to stretch on writing desks, or to disguise the random assortment
What I AskI ask them to take my poem,What I Ask3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With a compassionate grasp,
Or a rueful fist,
Like one would take a new experience.
Extreme emotion is what I require,
A benefit to my hand,
Or to my heart,
Both in dire need of assistance.
But do not ask to witness my heart,
To bear my unprotected soul,
Just to look upon it with indifference,
As if it were just ink on parchment.
Under The Murky WatersChildren of the first sinner,Under The Murky Waters3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dragging his filthy soul at his tail.
He does not dare to look up
Where God's face resides.
Walking the earth; a pack of wild dogs
Scavenging the last pride,
Snatching what is left of mercy.
Down creatures, leeches in the murky waters.
Always on the move to a new pure land,
Hunting down every butterfly wing,
Slaughtering every young green bud.
Children of the massacre, slaves of the cannon
You have your hands down my throat,
Your knife sliding down my spine,
You say: "Keep your smile and greet Humanity"
I swallow the rocks; I wave for my brothers
I fell, I died , they walked over me,
YogaShe goes to sleep late.Yoga2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She sits alone,
Listening to ambient-drone
In her midnight-blue room.
The desk lamp is a small star
In the corner of her dark universe.
She searches Wikipedia
For shades of blue.
She falls in love with
Celeste, cornflower, cyan,
Electric, Indigo, Iris, Maya,
Powder, Sky, Tiffany and Turquoise.
Awe-stricken by their
And the vacuum it creates
In her solar plexus.
She unfolds like a flower.
She imagines herself opening up,
A bouquet of dreams:
Also like a fluffy, white lamb
Beneath a beautifully crafted
And bejewelled sacrificial dagger.
In her mind she pinches
The petals of a thousand sherbet-coloured blooms,
Their biology presses back.
They do not bruise.
“What kind of
Do they practice?”
She wakes up late.