A Message for my loveI wanted to grow old with youA Message for my love1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and go through thick and thin.
Together enjoy our pension age,
Just we two.
Its so hard now to remember,
though I know we share so many.
Memories for me too painful,
to ponder on any.
I get through each day somehow,
I´m grateful for your love,
which even tho you´re no longer here,
pours on me from above.
So rest in peace my lovely man.
I miss you everyday.
I´m thankful to have been the one,
you chose to be your woman.
A poem by Suzanne Karbach
Death DealerDeath lingered behind his eyes,Death Dealer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ruthless his lips edged up
in a killers smile,
it was the moment
while his prey
lie blissfully unaware.
a heart beat
was the only sound,
while the shadow
prepared to descend
with the swiftness
of a falcon.
Blood paints the darkness
of the night, not even a scream,
it is true what they say
you can die within your dreams,
for what was he
but a phantom unseen,
a death dealer who will
take flight with your life
while you sleep.
He is gone
even before the very last
breath can be drawn
but he never leaves a doubt
none escapes from his
fishbowl reality.the boy next to me just diedfishbowl reality.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but he pressed play again and started
to chase his tail across a screen of purple blocks.
five seats away, a girl is trying to draw a human heart.
another girl is trying to finish her test.
"this class ends at 2 and it is 1:55."
the boy next to me has given up and
is checking his e-mail, while still others
pull out their computers to start clicking
away at letters that will never fade.
i am sitting here, wondering how to tell my mother
her sister tried to commit suicide.
some people say that an umbrella turned upwards
is a sign of bad luck, but there is a lot of bad luck
that has to do with umbrellas
so i just want to stand out in the rain
and deal with wet clothes and no bad luck
but no good luck either.
people ask kids what they want to be when they grow up.
(an astronaut, loved, a cowboy, a doctor, happy)
no one ever asks what they want to be
when they die. i guess the answer is obvious:
i like reading poems
from the end to the
Prose: LithiumLithium.Prose: Lithium3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Oh dear god Lithium.
I sighed deeply and looked at the orange pill bottle that was sitting in front of me. In my head, I could see the pharmacist's face when I handed her the prescription, the pity and the judgment.
I stared at the little pink pill that lay inside my palmthat horrible pink pill with the little brown writing. This small pill had such powerful affects. I didn't know what this was going to do to me. What if it kills me? What if it takes all my problems away? What if it doesn't do anything?
How is that this small pill, this element have such an impact?
It seemed so simple when I had to study it in science class. It is number 3 on the periodic table I still knew this from all that time ago.
However, this wasn't science class. This wasn't high school. This was life. This was my life. My poor, sad, depressed life. I couldn't get anything together, so what does my therapist do? Prescribe me Lithium. Zoloft didn't work; neither did Prozac, nothing wor
Perfection is an IllusionPerfection is an illusionPerfection is an Illusion3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As heaven is to Earth,
A painted cloudy paradise
Inspired by human dearth.
Flawless is the pole star
Leading man to fabled land,
Still distant the Polaris
From man's conceited hand.
Yet perfection's only flaw
That it will never know,
Perfection appears resplendent
Draped in fault's shadow.
Soul CollectorBloody murdererSoul Collector2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Damned soul collector
Tell me, how could you extort the life out of those shiny, brown eyes?!
I'm vividly smiling as he slowly dies
Tell me, didn't you fell a thing while giving the poisonous kiss?
I feel every beating of his heart as we are immersing in the bliss
A soul collector, destroyer of the mind,
I'm about to extinguish his light, to leave him lost and blind
I'll encage his ripped soul,
Just after he'll lose the self-control
Don't drag another soul into your disgrace,
Just one more blanked face
Don't kill again with your breath-taking embrace,
I promise, just one more one more stolen core
You know you shouldn't, but your claws are digging already in his chest,
I'm spilling his blood, the flesh I wrest
Don't collect this soul, not this time,
I must capture his soul before he captures mine,
I promise, just
Romance in MetaphorAs we sat in silence, child small,Romance in Metaphor2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
we made shadow puppets on the wall;
and with our right hands, fingers arched,
good lord! We made a heart.
But as soon as our fingers touched,
as though preconceived, all at once,
our hands gave a jerking start;
and we each tore it half apart.
So many times it's come undone
and I've fought for love and hardly won,
but it's never, ever been much fun,
at least not half as much as breaking fingers
on a wall,
sitting in a silent hallway,
Riot.The rage of imagination that riots in my headRiot.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
is drenched in a spectrum of colors in a notebook by my bed.
How can I translate my insanity on paper
if my mind knows no reality than it's own creator?
Death Of LegendIgnite hell's biting bullets that scorch and sting,Death Of Legend2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Against heaven's armies that stand and sing.
When the might of garish gods befalls us all,
Where nations crumble and meek mortals fall,
Then celestial suicide will be our fate's call.
Skies will turn to smoke and seas will burn to steam,
Demons will howl. Angels will die. Men will dream.
To believe in an eternal peace beyond war's breath,
No more to suffer through eyes that despair death,
Never to crumble hearts into pits of blackened dust.
Blind hell's hope that bring waves of ruin and rust,
Against heaven's anguish that bring terror and trust.
When the sight of humble humanity suffers defeat,
Where societies tremble and lost leaders meet,
Then universal disaster will be our's generation's treat.
Spirits will turn to shade and souls will burn to sleet,
Demons will growl. Angels will cry. Men will scream.
To believe in an internal lease beyond war's sight,
No more to fear opposing voices that murder might,
Never to extinguish minds in
WishI wish I could writeWish2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
All along the walls
Paint the sky till it sings
And never let it fall
I wish I could compose
rivers, oceans and seas
Create balance by
Inking every tree
I wish the world vivid
Blurs of green, blue and grey
Oh, it shall be a painting
Of both the night and day
Dark BetrayalI dare not make a soundDark Betrayal2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I dare not raise my voice
Peering into the dark
That lies in front of me
What will come out next,
To grab my cold bare ankle
And drag me into Hell?
A rustling noise-
And the lights turn back on
You stand there, arms open-
I run into them-
Your hands on my throat,
Your face twisted in a smile
And the darkness
claims another victim
The Lonely TowerSee the forlorn lover locked in his lonely tower,The Lonely Tower3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gazing with his telescope every night and every hour,
Till under the brightest moon he spots a scarlet flower.
Walking barefoot on grass that glitters like gold,
She strikes his soul with a smile that thaws the cold.
See the forlorn lover locked in his lonely tower,
Dreaming on his mattress every night and every hour,
While along the dullest sands he feels a vermilion power.
Climbing fingertips on stone that sparkles like sapphire,
She haunts his heart with a honesty that sparks the fire.
See the forlorn lover locked in his lonely tower,
Waiting on his bride every night and every hour.
So above the wildest rivers he hears a crimson shower,
Pouring guilt on desire that dazzles like diamond,
She murders his mind with a muse that wakes the bond.
Blind PoetUnspokenBlind Poet2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Its not needed
What is not felt
Is not understood
No one is 'me'
So no one will know
What even I cannot fully
How it frees
Separates me from the world
Yet I'm bound
the garden as a metaphoreva was a lonely girl,the garden as a metaphor4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the sweet white curve of a rib
a lonely girl.
engulfed in a great white wave of ennui,
the urge to do something.
eva planted a garden
eva's trees grew tall and strong,
shelter and source of life,
a friend in a tree,
limber and waiting
limbs like silk and words like serum
[an anaesthetic honey on
eva was a lonely girl.
A Taste for TextA book is but a sweet escapeA Taste for Text2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
To pick you off your feet
And when it starts to pull you in
You're in for such a treat
For in the pages of a book
The world becomes a new
And anything that happens
May be happening to you
Anything is possible
The plot with twist and turn
In the end, you'll find your way
There's so much more to learn
For in-between the text
We all may find ourselves
And every hero or villain
Not merely descriptions on shelves
But a reflection of the good and bad we bury in ourselves
And when one is defeated
The other will prevail
But who will win the influence
He is not decided in the tale.
But within the heart, within the text
The words that touch us most
Will always lead us to hold on
To pick our favorite host.
Perceptions of HomosexualityGay and Lesbian rights is a an issue that galvanizes people, particularly on the internet, and as I writer of male/male fiction or a Yaoi fangirl, as you may prefer, I would like to weigh in with my views on the matter.Perceptions of Homosexuality2 years ago in Personal More Like This
Naturally I do completely support Gay rights and all this entails. For example I believe that adoption and marriage are just as valid options for Gay and Lesbian couples and should be permitted and protected by law. I also feel that individuals of any marginal sexual orientation or gender identity should be free from prejudice, harassment, or unequal treatment at work or in public. So on and so forth.
I think that this is the most common stance for liberal-minded individuals and is probably the one expected of me, given my interests. My interests in male/male works however are not what guarantees or suggests my support for Gay rights.
I think most Yaoi fans do support gay rights but, although their tastes may influence this opinion, this is mainly because they are thems
Elegy for a DreamHow do dreams die?Elegy for a Dream2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do they simply fade away,
Like fog after a rainy day?
Do they go out with a bang,
Like a shot heard around the world?
Do they go out with a whimper,
Like a wounded animal dying in a hidden hole?
How do dreams die?
Do they change until they are unrecognizable,
Like the evolution of life?
Do they corrupt and corrode,
Like death and decay?
Do dreams kill other dreams,
Like people kill other people?
How do dreams die?
Can they die with a person,
Never shared or known?
Can a dream become reality,
Before it dies?
Can reality be a dream,
Before it dies?
The Demon and the Magician: Part 6, Act IThe Demon and the MagicianThe Demon and the Magician: Part 6, Act I2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Part Six: Ad Bellum, Act I
A large thud wakes me as my eyes, blurry and dreary, slide open to stare at the ceiling above me. Looking to my right, I see Alex’s bed empty, the blanket pulled over the edge.
“Alex?” I yawn, lifting my tired body up off the floor, moonlight filtering into the room from the large window behind me. “Did’ya fall off?”
Looking over the bed, I can see his body lying on the floor, the blanket wrapped haphazardly around it, his muscles in spasm, writhing and contorting as he winces and cries softly. His eyes are shut tight, and fists are clenched.
“Alex!” I exclaim as I drop to his side, grabbing his shoulders and looking down at him. “What’s wrong? C’mon, wake up! Snap out of it! Alex!”
With a loud gasp his eyes shoot open as his body stiffens, his limbs stretching outward, pushing against the bed and sliding it across the wooden floor. His eyes are a pu
telepathyI think if we could read mindstelepathy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the world wouldn't be different
we would just find different ways of shutting
evolve walls inside our skulls that would
come crashing down like blast doors and
the forests wouldn't uproot themselves
the landscape wouldn't change
the ocean would continue to eat at the shore
it would all be very boring
or maybe it wouldn't
perhaps the people would become the
hills and valleys and places would
have their own memories
the maps would read
"here is where John got drunk last night"
"here is where Sasha had her first thought"
"here there be dragons"
art wouldn't be interpreted
it would be shared
and when two lovers felt each other for the
it would be like
a volcano erupting
an extinction-level event
the first shot in a war
the discovery of electricity