It's the ApocalypseRed sensors rotated and his gears resonated within him.It's the Apocalypse2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
He could hear the mass silence that echoed endlessly;
no wind wafting through trees or horns blaring…
- only ghosts.
He sensed the crunch of metal and rust grinding
and the clank of disused limbs popping into place.
The mechanics of his body had forgotten basic processes…
- and he felt ancient.
Saved recordings worked through his hard-drive like memories
reminding him of times with oceans of cities, flocks of humans,
and towers so tall he could stand next to them and be called…
The lenses of his eyes fluttered and a new world was upon him;
the sun shone so brightly, alloy sweated from his torso
and the sharp sand beneath his feet grated
- and he began to erode.
The Earth was not as he had left it…
- with farms of humans and armies of titans like himself
who worked to save their creators from their own destruction.
He paced the wasteland they had sought to prevent
Are you scared?Would you like to play a game; a game based on chance?Are you scared?3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If you win, your reward will be awakening from this trance
From these dreams, these disillusions, these harsh subjugations;
These nightmares, these terrors, these frustrating constructions;
Upon midnight, by the deserts moon, rise these shadow's delight
Dancing, pouncing, chanting, till they burn out by twilight
Their awakening frightens you? Are you truly scared?
Figments of your imaginations, illusions declared
Dreams of tragedy interspersed with melancholy
Myriads of shadows locked in webs, a discordant hegemony
Necrotic perforations, no doubt sadistic manipulations
But isn't that what you are; a chord of vicious lamentations.
The Real meThere was one time when you thought I,The Real me3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
was perfect, no defects to hide.
Impressed were all, imposed a lot,
On all your minds, but you knew not.
The truth of me, the lies I hide,
I do not lie, but hide I might.
Whatever way, deceived you are.
Blinded by, a truth so far,
So unreal, you cannot grasp.
Believe or not, its truth alas,
But hate me not, that's who I am,
But that's for me, to you I am,
Or tried to be, tried very hard.
To be a friend, one true at heart,
To help you out, fulfill your needs,
Play a small role in your deeds.
Intention wise, I will not lie,
The one thing which I ever tried,
Was to bring a smile alive,
On your lips, to do I'd die,
That's all I ask, not hair breadth much,
Erase my life, if you feel must,
From your life, your memory,
But one last thing before I leave.
Hate me if you feel to hate.
Just don't make the mistakes I made.
For, who I am, I am not proud,
Truth is that I myself doubt.
What I was, I lived in pain,
My life was shadowed in constant rain,
One more chance"I’d reach your soul andOne more chance2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
clasp it through those eyes if they'd
just open again"
The Doctors In"He's probably dead," Roger exclaimed as the two kittens giggled mischievously behind him.The Doctors In2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Krystal and Amanda had arrived at Coleman Park appropriately attired for the evening. Their previously decided-upon costumes seemed much sexier in person than when Roger was helping them choose outfits at Wal-Mart. Being the edgy person that he was, he had politely declined their offer of buying a disguise for him. He had never celebrated the holiday, and instead purchased a t-shirt that furthered his rebelliousness with bright yellow text that read, 'I don't do costumes.'
His head down and his hands in his pockets, he paced himself up the paved hill that lead to the local, haunted legend. Krystal swung her faux tail playfully and adjusted the large black ears that wouldn't stay in her curly hair despite the obscene amounts of hairspray she had employed. Amanda clicked her heels across the ground. She sprinted in front of Roger and slowed to a smooth strut seemingly fo
The Bride of AtlasShe met him when the world was new;The Bride of Atlas2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when wars were fought in the cosmos
and celestial beings deigned expose
and visit themselves upon the mortals.
In darkness he came to her;
somewhere between fantasy and the real,
disguised as a human, burly and firm
with want of a lover and yearning for release.
She knew him as a man
and he loved her as his wife.
A Titan he had always been
at battle with Olympians
who garnered all of humanity's love
and chose war over peace to keep it.
As lightning struck, thunder roared,
and waves destroyed the earth,
all grew quiet as Olympus rejoiced
and she knew that he had lost.
Zeus then rest upon his shoulders
the weight of the world eternal.
A punishment made more severe
by lack of warmth from her mortal heart.
He carried his punishment made unending
as Earth's coarsened face gouged his back.
The insects and beasts stung and mauled
and the humans warred and burned his flesh.
Still he held the world atop his shoulders
I Love You In DisguiseJeremy Crenshaw was sitting in the same place he sat every day in fourth period English; far away enough not to be noticed, and close enough to admire from afar. For the last three years their schedules had been almost identical; but somehow English was the only class he had with him their junior year.I Love You In Disguise2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Braden Morgan was charming and sweet. He had an air about him that drew people in, even those who were unwanted. Because of this, he was constantly surrounded by his jock buddies and busty groupies. Jeremy could never find a moment to speak; to remind him of when they were younger and when he once admitted that they were best friends.
Braden's body had firmed and his stature had grown those last few years. He kept his head clean with an attractive buzz-cut and enough dirty blonde stubble to remind others of his maturity. He didn't play any sports, so most attentive teachers and coaches ignored his facial hair. Instead he made his mark in art class and drama, neither
InsanityThe sound of your voiceInsanity2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Haunts me in my restless sleep
Time leaves, why can't I?
DisillusionedDisillusioned2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You girls need a ride?"
October looked up, letting her eyes stray from the gravel beneath her feet. She had been walking along the highway for so long she had started counting her steps to pass the time, hoping that when she finally looked up she would see civilization. Abigail ran to the truck driver's passenger door, haphazardly pushing past October as if she had never ridden in a vehicle before.
October glared at the driver's soiled clothes, greasy hair, and crooked teeth. She imagined his smell which made her gag uncontrollably. It was as if his unkemptness was setting off red flags in her head: "Never talk to strangers. And never accept rides from hillbilly truck drivers in the middle of nowhere."
"Where are you headed?" Abigail questioned playfully. Even though she was a few years older than October, it seemed to make her more reckless than wise. Before the driver had the chance to wheeze whatever location in Kansas he was headed to, October yanked the sultry temptress to
Monkeying AroundRex likes to play with his meat.Monkeying Around2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Each meal is a game and a treat.
Along came the lemurs,
caring not for strong femurs;
his arms are too short to reach.
Forgotten RemainsThere once was a great nation a nation with a name.Forgotten Remains3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But now they are the
forgotten they remain.
The memories they hold,
the tears they contain,
are theirs' alone
only theirs to atone.
Whimpers gently rise;
tears flow again
for time cruelly denies
salvation from pain.
They seek sleep to happy lies
but such tries are in vain.
Dying but living on;
futile hope too moves on.
They're engraved deep in graves,
poor soulless souls enchained.
Confined and enslaved,
with no happiness saved.
They rot in a gorge
where only sorry reigns.
Theirs tales shriek through nights
their talks ignite fights
reminding of lost fame
of love, passion proclaimed.
Of days full of glory
such sad, mournful stories,
of children's laughs set ablaze
what cruel sadistic games.
Play on, it's your forte
laugh, sneer and gloat,
but Mother Nature, fools were they
hearts meant to go astray.
True, your love they betrayed
alas humans were they
The Connecticut Massacre.The Connecticut Massacre.The Connecticut Massacre.2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
He was described as quiet, shy and socially awkward.
He was not the type to be loud, abrasive and forward.
He was highly intelligent and kept his thoughts to himself.
He didn't posses the tools to communicate with anyone else.
Whenever he spoke, his words felt forced and fake.
Who knew back then how many lives this man could take.
The realisation of his isolation was activated by the school premises.
He was never able to see his peers as friends but only as his nemeses.
But when he was home his alienation became none existent.
He was able to laugh and smile without any form of resistance.
The constant contrast in environments became too much for him to handle.
It was only an amount of time before he enacted some sort of immoral scandal.
After a confrontation at school he marched home to collect his mother's weapons.
His mother caught him in the act and tried to stop him as he reached for the second
Loaded rifle that was originally used as a source of family en
Life will laugh at youYou breathe the air to live a life,Life will laugh at you3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
a life without the will to strive.
BUT to strive one does decide,
a plan to be, a plot devised.
A tragedy; someone's demise;
a family, of troubles rise.
Accept defeat, defeat the lies,
mold the lies in truths disguise.
Which brings a change, the mind divides,
Chastise the plans revised.
But slowly fading in the sky,
our dreams too die, you're left to die,
to rot in some troubled domain,
you're all alone, but whose to blame.
For back away, it is the same;
no past of dreams, no struggling aim.
A blind attempt purchasing fame,
But in the end it brings no gain.
Just a tale of endless pain;
Agonizing acid rain.
But who's to blame? You played a game?
Of tying life and dreams again?
People like you, fools alike,
Forsaken beings, a scornful sight.
For dream you did and dreams decide,
What's your worth and what's your might!
And left at mercy of the night,
Whether you die or see the light,
Be it the case you're one of few,
for whom this life will laugh at you
Stenciled Smiles on Paper HeartsI don't like to feel this wayStenciled Smiles on Paper Hearts2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There must be something I can say
Cause I hate just watching you
When I know the pain you're going through
You're not alone; I've been where you are
Contemplating where I'll place my next scar
Hiding razor kisses underneath long sleeves
It doesn't make it better; nothing is achieved
All you'll earn are the scars you've got and
The lesson learned is the lesson forgotten
You feel like no one's there, no one cares what you do
Let me put it to you straight: That is never true
I was shunned, pushed away many times before
Then I realized it was I who had closed the door
I took a chance and opened up to the people around me
Told them of my secrets, now their love surrounds me
You're not alone; I've been where you are
And I know that life sometimes seems so hard…
But believe me, from one person to another
To make a book better, you never destroy the cover…
You are worth it...
She tended to flowersShe tended to flowers through the day passing by;She tended to flowers3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
she tended to flowers through the dark rising high.
She smiled as she tended and nourished the pots;
as frail as she was, this work she could not stop.
She grew each plant from each seed of each fruit
that she ate; be it weak; let it have a bent shoot.
She grew them in pots, tiny pots which she sold
"Take care" she called "they are more precious than gold!"
Her heart broke and bled and shattered some more,
when she sold pieces of her soul she yet bore.
But an old lady she was, she could not keep them all
in a house old as she was, so old and so small!
She then ushered away the children that came,
to break her little pots, for it they felt no shame.
She panted as the children laughed at "the cramped lady"
she sighed; tears welling up as she felt her belly
"Poor children ignorant you are for you don't know
the pain of losing the only child that you once sowed"
She tended the flowers as if they were her lost child;
feeling her hollow heart
PerfectionFoolish I'd say, may all those bePerfection3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
who so foolishly wish to achieve
what is approached only, never touched
Be it in your hand, but never in your clutch.
You shouldn't write in two minutesRazor blades – cackling – bouncing within my skullYou shouldn't write in two minutes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Skull – baseball – rip through air, tear
And I'll live in this car with its closed doors
Close all the windows and see in the absence of light.
Razor blades devouring flesh
Devouring minds, thoughts, feelings,
Scattering. Why didn't you come back for me?
Hey, ma, "Do you even care?"
"You're not two."
Words unraveling on her tongue, her hand
Reaching through my chest and bones to
Crush, shatter, break my heart and make it pump –
Force me to live.
So, if I were two, if I hung myself, you would
Care, but you'd let me go now because I've grown
too big to love,
Or too small to matter?
And God, don't help me and don't be my savior
Because I don't need, don't want, saving. I just need
I need to breathe in the absence of air, in this car with its
Closed doors, and windows that lead to
Somewhere with rainbows and butterflies
I deserve to suffocate in the presence of air, outside of this car with its
Lack of door
AloneI sit alone and mark the time -Alone2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
aware of how the hours crawl -
with solitude a friend of mine.
I find my thoughts a careless scrawl,
meandering among the days -
myself the loser in it all.
I view my world through lonely haze,
aware of loss on which I stand
and never think to mend my ways.
There's not a soul to lend a hand;
there's not a man to call me friend.
Submerged in Swan LakeSubmerged in Swan Lake2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Swans and wings are floating by
on a breeze imbued with jasmine and
willows outstretching their arms in welcome.
Through deep breaths he arrives
plunged in murky, pungent water.
A quiet whisper, and he prays -
"Please... may I linger here?"
Willows lower their arms
and jasmine falls to the Earth
where the wind dies and finally rests.
The crows are cawing hymns,
begging to be swans.
But only the duck submerged in Swan Lake
has delved the desired shore.
Its waters dangerous and plagued
by monsters baring their teeth;
most ghastly and putrid they are
that no crow may ripple its surface
nor any songbird seeking beauty fair.
The Swan Maidens bare their chests
and open their wings in veneration -
for the duck has sought beauty through courage
and earned his guise of grace and virtue.
I was sorrowful oh rainFailures cling desperately to my crippled acts.I was sorrowful oh rain3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What meaning has life following deserted tracks?
Lost all I have; heeds no one still
my thoughts distraught, my heart 's ill
I wail in seclusion within plain barren lands
praying help shall descend through mysterious hands
But a dream would it be wishing, a foolish one too;
all men are happy and content; their sky depicts blue
Yet my sky growls and cries, for thunder reigns high
but I yearn for this thunder; for this rain to come by
A raindrop with a plop splashes my face
it wipes off the tears that have stained my façade
My whimpers grow silent, the wind hushes up.
Like a slow paced violin, the tears start to drop.
I smile through sky's tears; the hum fills my ears;
the raindrops from heaven descend dissolving my fears
Be no mans grace open, my companion's the sky.
It shares my own sorrows; it too weeps and cries.
My hands rise up high as I thank gain n again,
"Blessed be you for coming for I was sorrowful oh rain!"
I laugh out alou
The Many Attributes of HersHer WelcomeThe Many Attributes of Hers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She welcomed me in a place so distraught,
yet her welcome refurbished the hut so luxurious.
Such bounties are for those who earn them;
a lucky fool I am to be close to her embrace,
for she was the basil for my ailing;
the wings for my flight;
the breath for my life.
But it was such;
she was blessed a good heart for little wealth,
an enchanting presence for a humble abode,
an inquisitive mind for little education;
she was balanced yet the scales tipped
such that life was a fraught belonging.
But dismayed not, a blissful existence;
her smile like the sparkling stars
that leave you in wonder why the Almighty
created something so beautiful yet out of grasp.
But today I mean to grasp those lights
right out of the sky and clasp to my heart.
She was lonely, but then again so are the stars.
Thus I wish to pull her down to escape that prison.
She is an ocean, exposed yet hidden;
calm yet thrashing;
a blue veil, veiling all the colors
A Pagan Love SongBeneath the mists of a moonlit nightA Pagan Love Song3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
upon the wind your voice calls my name
through a fog of dreams I came,
into the Winter's distant shore beside your firelight,
through Autumn's red-orange, your eyes aglow,
by moon tide boundless the ocean's song
with ancient rhythms which carry us along,
the Great Rite begun, as one our bodies flow,
within another world I see you face,
in sorrow and joy entwined we remain
wandering lost in timeless space,
with a memory like falling drops of rain,
so here in a world forgot shall we stay
and amid the ruins we will greet the day.
Waltzing his last danceThe hall slowly fills;Waltzing his last dance3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
there is not a tremor, not a sound.
The silence instills
the beating hearts of those that stand around.
Merriment then swells;
its satiating tremble within so profound
but alas there is but one man,
that waltzes to a tune unfound.
The merriment grows
as heels tap and dresses sway.
The bodies glow
with the light shimmering over the ballet.
The melody flows
for all participants are joyful and gay
yet woeful is the man in the corner
that dances a dance of dismay.
the girls in the hall giggle and pose
on the men's behalf
displaying their ornamented clothes;
the splendor in craft
invites many woos and bellows
while wearing a battered old suit
the man unnoticed sways on his toes.
Each lad takes a hand,
of one of the many, graceful girls,
since the dance began
since then the couples gracefully swirl
Others seat on divans
letting their sonnets of love unfurl