ScarsI can be your best friendScars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and your darkest secret.
I can cause happiness
while causing great pain.
I can be obvious and scream on you body
or silent and hide in your mind.
I thrive in trauma and fear
then drown in compassion and comfort
Over time I will vanish
but I will never go away
You will always be my victim.
every second of every day.
For I am your scars
Pages Found in an Old Dungeon My name is Nicholas. I know by now people may have already forgotten about me, but I used to be addressed as "Father Christmas" and "Santa Claus" among many other names. I suppose that I might be merely dismissed as a myth nowadays. I daresay it has been hundreds of years since I last brought treasures to a kind soul. Ah, but I have lost track of the ages in this wretched oubliette. There is not even a tinge of sunlight to indicate the passage of day.Pages Found in an Old Dungeon4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I cannot fathom how I could have possibly deserved such a fate. Everyday, my stomach burns of hunger, and yet I cannot die of starvation. Simply stated, I cannot die.
I never imagined that I would detest my existence. The year was 1717 and I was the happiest man in the world. As far as occupations came, mine was a most fortunate one. Riding a sleigh harnessed to flying reindeer and delivering happiness to children on the Nice List was a pu
Love Reaps part 14Love Reaps part 143 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"No just give him a little kick in the ribs!" Daemon ordered with anger, letting out another sigh as I booted the horses ribcage, And once again for the 67th time, I met back with the ground.
Yes I had counted, and yes this horse hates my guts. Everything Daemon told me to do, I tried to do, but Boom doesn't make it easy.
I laid motionless on the ash ground. Staring blankly up at the gloomed sky. Daemon strutted over until his head towered over me.
"Are you trying to fail at this?" he snorted. I shrugged.
"Obviously I don't need to try to fail," I muttered mindlessly.
"Well I've noticed that, but the thing is, you need to be able to ride Boom or we won't be able to get anywhere easily."
"Well sorry grumpy stumpy,"
"What did you call me?!"
"Are you becoming deaf as well now?" I asked sarcastically, heaving my rag doll body off the ash floor.
"Scarlet don't piss with me!" He hissed, pointing his arched index finger at me. "I'm in no mood for your gobbledygook!"
CITY! Follow This..i care for no one elseCITY! Follow This..2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i am a mighty warrior
i try to convince myself
read the harold
i face the yellow city
with her yellow teeth
she worships me
but only emptiness will comfort me
i hang my head
Fear Not thy SemicolonGrammar is a force to be reckoned with, armed with such mighty weapons as: , : ; ' " . and ?. In short: quite an impressive arsenal. Unfortunately, one mighty piece of punctuation has been sadly both abused and underused over the years. I am here writing this to attempt to rectify that!Fear Not thy Semicolon3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Here, let me show you
"As a child I used to jump off the roof of my house, it was all part of a fiendishly clever scheme to force my body to evolve wings and fly free around the world."
This sentence is incorrect. The comma alone isn't strong enough to hold a sentence together; I guess it hasn't spent enough time at the gym. A comma is only a breath or pause, not a transition. To put it simply, I have just violated the comma by using it in ways it should never be used and it may now require months of intensive therapy.
"As a child I used to jump off the roof of my house. It was all part of a fiendishly clever scheme to force my body to evolve wings and fly free around the world."
This is correct.
Champagne WishesWake me upChampagne Wishes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I seem to have grown old
And long to be young
Wake me up
I'm fast asleep
Trapped in a nightmare
Longing to return
To dreams of sugarplums
ERIC and THE TIME MACHINE (Part II)a part with dinosaurs and kelangedangs.ERIC and THE TIME MACHINE (Part II)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
(if you missed part one you can read it here)
It’s not every day that you discover a time machine in the hallway cupboard. Usually this would mean you could travel to any time you want...but not today. Today we had to go look for Eric cause Eric found the time machine before we did. Lucky for us we knew that he went to a long long time ago, we could tell cause the box is covered in dust and all the letters on the side is faded away...like all things that’s from a long long time ago. We decided that we should probably paint new letters on the sides before we go. It won’t go very far with letters that’s already faded. Oh...and maybe we could also make one or two other adjustments while we are busy...
We've built our own time machines before but none of them worked very well. They couldn't go back in time, they could on
Naughty Irish SpiritsPoor Molly Deegan was so very tired. She had done her nightly rituals in a stupor and when her fiery red head hit the pillow, she was gone into dreamland without a stray thought.Naughty Irish Spirits3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her corgi's barks jolted Molly back to wakefulness and this, she couldn't ignore. With a muttered oath, she flung the blankets back and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She cringed at the cold air and grabbed a throw from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her self. A blue streak of curses trailed along behind her as she stomped into the kitchen to investigate.
She was momentarily shaken out of her foul mood when she saw that the kitchen was undisturbed. She stood in sleepy dumbness until she realized that there was a glow from the garage window.
Walking outside, Molly saw that the garage door was ajar and peering inside, she saw Aedan heaving the last of the broken shards of glass into the recycling bin, the partial logo on the shard revealing that it was one of her college bar glasses.
Neo-psuedoShape the words as thoughNeo-psuedo2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You would speak
(at least if you were
And of course if, and only if, people
I would listen
Curl you lips around each syllable
They drip from your
Tongue, words sweeter still
But alas your
Few can hear you speak
Can hear you-
Glazes Part 4Glazes Part 42 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Glaze Recipes Part 4
Sharing a few formula's I use
all glazes are ^6 electric/oxidation unless noted
Helen's Crystal (Snair)
Frit 3110 48.48
Zinc Oxide 24.35
Calcined Kaolin 1.52
Lithium Carbonate 5.0
experiment with colorants
copper carbonate 3.0 makes a nice green
Fara's Mid Fire Crystalline
Frit 3110 50
Zinc Oxide 22
Titanium (2-6%) 4
experiment with colorants
copper carbonate 3.0 makes a nice green
Ramp for crystalline glaze
this is the current schedule I'm
We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
It just did.
We kept saying “It won't happen in our lifetime.”
But it did.
We closed our eyes to the cracks in the walls
and they crumbled around us.
We forgot the decay in front of us.
It was so easy to ignore.
It ate away the foundations of our lives.
Still we ignored it
and claimed that life would go on.
We did not see it coming.
Even if it was right in front of us.
We tried to repair the cracks in the dams
though the water had already washed us away.
And though the clouds were black and red
we looked away.
Or stared ourselves blind on the colour display
as our skin peeled away beneath the acidic rain.
We dreamt of the sky
and reached for the stars.
Forgetting the ground beneath our feet.
It tore apart at the seams
the gaps too wide to repair.
And the sun was setting on a world
We did not predict the true apocalypse
though many a prophet had tried.
Their predictions were hollow
and we lost faith.
We did not listen to the real
What's Left Behind...Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;What's Left Behind...11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these were the treasures so close to my heart.
They are the wealth of my mind; my soul, my art.
And I could never ever leave them be,
Where another might burn them, without thinking of me...
"Apologies father, I cannot join you yet:
For in this world, a treasure still exists.
A treasure tha
Haresh Vaite, Bombay Re-Animator Chapter 3Haresh Vaite, Bombay Re-AnimatorHaresh Vaite, Bombay Re-Animator Chapter 38 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter 3. Return to Bombay
Haresh Vaite completed his courses at Providence College of Applied Sciences, and applied for a refresher at Miskatonic University. Like the administration of Providence Miskatonic University was thrilled to admit him. After he arrived, the staff arranged for his accommodations and materials and gave him an exhaustive guided tour of the library and laboratories. They informed him that Herbert West was an alumnus of the university. Vaite replied that he had read West’s notes and had similar intentions. Then he spoke about his recent experiences.
“I had endeavored to reanimate a corpse form Providence municipal cemetery but both electrolysis and my serum failed to obtain results. And West had written to the same effect.”
“Indeed, we had attempted to imitate Frankenstein once before but nothing worked.”
“West remarked that his Egyptian embalming solution failed too. Can there truly be a
Haresh Vaite, Bombay Re-animator-Chapter 1Haresh Vaite, the Bombay Re-AnimatorHaresh Vaite, Bombay Re-animator-Chapter 18 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
India’s Counterpart to Herbert West
Chapter 1. History
Haresh Vaite, 55, was born in the Bombay colony, British India, in the year 1895. He attended both normal primary school and normal secondary school, and neither his teachers nor his schoolmates found anything odd to him. He earned average marks in secondary school, although his mother and father had expected higher ones. However, his teachers were satisfied with his academic performance. Haresh entered Bombay University at 17, after receiving 540 points total in his entrance examination. His mother and father were pleased.
In university, Haresh expressed explicit interest in medical science but he could not enter medical college. Nonetheless, he studied physiology, chemistry, biophysics, biochemistry and pharmacy separately from the college and earned high marks in all subjects. Haresh graduated from Bombay University in
Your Poetry SucksYes, roses are redYour Poetry Sucks1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And violets are blue
But you have to understand
Who said they had to,
Its about imagination
Emotion and orignality
Not the reiteration
Of dead men's practicality
They are your sentence
To a world that has to listen
As you create the difference
Whether it be
With angst poem against love
Or how you set your heart free
To fly like a dove,
For these words
Whether or not they be true
Their beauty and ideals
Will be used to define you,
Hope ,in fact, has feathers
And like a caged bird it sings
But these words will only be tethers
That strip you of your wings,
Those are their words
Meant for their time
And meant for their herds,
But this your time
Meant for your words
And whether they be meaningful, stupid
Or completely absurd
I'm sure they'll be amazing.
His name was JimHis name was Jim10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
All were gathered 'round the fire when someone asked: "Where's Jim?
It's cold as hell out here and could someone look for him?"
Ragged Sally volunteered and Uncle Buck did too.
Together they would look for Jim down Second avenue.
Up and down and round and round but Jim was nowhere seen.
For supper he was always game and late he'd never been.
A cold wind blew as snowflakes fell upon the icy street.
Just one more round they'd make before they would concede defeat.
Sally thought she'd heard a cry, or was it just the wind?
Buck thought best to head on back, next morning try again.
As they passed the little bridge 'bove Second avenue,
Buck saw something moving on the pavement down below.
There lay Jim in his crumpled vest, his eyes toward the sky.
They rushed to him but 'twas too late, they both began to cry.
He never mentioned family or gave out his last name.
To think he'd died without their love was truly quite a shame.
The paper said a homeless man was found under a bridge.
The paper le
Lullaby"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.Lullaby3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be detonated by a passing glance.
Every time she blew up,
she'd pick the pieces of herself off of bathroom floors
mixed with the medicine she never needed. She had
One day she caught me staring, smiled, walked over, and hugged me...
she smelled like a lonely night.
As she pulled away she looked me dead in the eyes and said,
'Don't worry abou
Dear WriterDear Writer,Dear Writer1 year ago in Letters More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru
What Water Tastes LikeI am a great actress.What Water Tastes Like2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I have been hiding my pain
for years now.
Spiritual warfare isn't something
every teen girl goes through
He knows how much I've cried
behind my bathroom door,
can't take much more -
only to come out as if
nothing could ever damage me...
I listened to the enemy.
"Unworthy, unloved, unwanted."
"Put that blade to your body."
And I did.
I told myself I never would,
told myself I never could.
That's something that should
never even cross my mind.
But it did.
A girl as young as me
shouldn't be battling death,
but I have since third grade.
Jesus was my aid.
Nights he would serenade
me to sleep,
reassuring I am His to keep.
Morning came and He would shout,
"Child! Do not doubt.
There is so much to live for -
this is not what I have in store
But it wasn't easy.
Sometimes I couldn't hear
and out of anger and fear
I screamed at the Lord
doubting He'd appear.
But He always did.
And He will continue
to surprise me -
that's just who He is