writing and other ironiesyou used to not be able to write on paper, only on things that don't exist. you used to feel your mind, deluging with thoughts and strings of pretty words and pretty worlds, urging your hands to write down the magic within, but the second you touched a pen, the blank paper was all the ideas you had. you used to bask in the loveliness of writing, feeling the catharsis, feeling beautiful for a moment of time.writing and other ironies4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
you don't anymore.
today you've gone to write poetry seven times, and have come up blank. the instant you hold a pen, there is flooding words, gushing words, pain and blood and beauty and more blood. that is what your paper has become since you pierced it so sharply. you don't even know you had things to say until you started moving that pen across the page. and now you can't stop. and now you can't stop. and now you can't stop feeling, absolutely feeling, drowning in feeling, bleeding out feeling, bastardizing feeling. there is no silence anymore.
Sumerian gods: Primordial DeitiesNammu The goddess of the Primeval Sea, the source of creationSumerian gods: Primordial Deities3 years ago in Settings More Like This
Offspring of Nammu
Apzu The source of fresh water
Tiamat A monster goddess, the source of salt water
Offspring of Apzu and Tiamat
Lahmu A serpent god, brother/husband of Lahamu
Lahamu A serpent goddess, sister/wife of Lahmu
Mummu Vizier of the gods, patron of crafts
Kingu Son/consort of Tiamat, blood used to make mankind
Offspring of Lahmu and Lahamu
Anshar The god of the Northern Pole, brother/husband of Kishar
love means losing yourselfmy fingers quiverlove means losing yourself5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
uncontrollably as i
search for your heart beat.
layers of snow numb
my hands and i still just can't
bear letting you go.
and i'll wait here un
til i'm black and blue with frost
bite and frozen lips.
come no close
er, i feel like a
no-man, he's stick-arms
i feel all-
alone-man, won't you
please come home?
they say home is where
the heart is, and you have mine.
i don't know where you've
placed it, so
i stand here lost in
the desert, the sun,
the moon be-
cause it's where
i think you
are. you're the
stars in the sky and
i can nev-
er find you.
you are in
my heart; you don't know:
we are lost.
i've been lost from the
first moment we met, it was
as though my vision's
been cloaked and
all i see is you;
not where we
are, we've been, or where
we run with
our eyes closed- love, this
is called hurt.
this is called
confusion. this is
we can't be
been an opti
not always miserablethe last time you kissed menot always miserable9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
was two augusts ago.
the boston harbour was bluer than
the eyes you so loved
looking back at yours when we said
i never meant goodbye.
take my lips
their feel, their taste
and press them to your own
i love you and will not
take you for granted.
i am so happy to be
in and on itself.
but time does not forget.
i remember the first time you kissed me
and how much i trembled,
my first kiss and you told me i could do better
so i melted
my face in your hand,
and let our skin stitch to the other
with the beads of excitement
that rolled down our fingers.
i know from the thick of my marrow
that the weight of your arm
(the first time)
was so immense, it should have taken
fifteen men to move it, tree-like,
to around my shoulder;
i remember the heat of your nerves
and the vibrations of mine,
getting to know one another.
(i think they fell in love, too.)
omniscient.i know you.omniscient.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i've seen you capture a butterfly,
put it in a glass jar
simply because seeing something with wings
trapped and unable to fly
made you feel better,
i stood aside while you watched
through antique sage-tinted glass
as it died alone.
i know you drive a motorcycle
to school and
to work every morning,
but motorcycles make me think of
broken mirrors and crying mothers,
of empty scrapbook pages
and seventeen year old boys
who won't make it to eighteen
i know that you smell like
versace and marlboro reds,
like rain and coffee and
friday nights alone
on a cold leather sofa.
i know you.
but i think i like you anyway.
two days shy (i'm so sorry)two days hangtwo days shy (i'm so sorry)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like bodies from the gallows.
they swing in fetid winds
and i see myself
i have reaped your wounds
after sewing them shut,
sowing them carefully
for two days shy
of a year.
i feel our blood mixing
and it feels like the hurt
you only have after a
Female Sumerian namesAnunit StarFemale Sumerian names4 years ago in Settings More Like This
Ereshkigal Great lady under the earth
Gesthinanna Heavenly vine
Inanna Queen of heaven
Kishar Earth pivot
CharismaticCharismatic2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The tender touch of innocence
Flaunts throughout the air
Careless, all without intention
Relaxation of the mind
Allows the individual to come
Seeking what leads to be only dreams
Ignorance of the worldly costs
Soon to follow, what is lost
Now only to resurface once again
To be in such a tender sways
Emotional whirlwinds of new beginnings
Tipping the gusts against the favors
Now only charismatic to the touch
They have become unreachable
Flying higher and higher
They have disappeared into the limbs
Falling leaves have broken
Scattering them across the sky
Now once alive
Now lost forever
I think you left a piece of you in me.This tangled mess you call a heart,I think you left a piece of you in me.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
daisy veins & sin;
She's bringing me down.
& you were merely shivering
pressing winter bones
against my sun-stricken mouth,
darkness searching for a home
buried in my lungs.
You whispered breathe me
lovely in the inhale/exhale
of carbon dioxide suicide.
She speaks only of you now,
lonely & mourning beats-
Crack open this damn ribcage;
Cry for MankindCry for Mankind3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Far across the snowy plains, I heard a lonesome cry
Of a ghostly white wolf, as she sings her lullaby
Cry for me, magnolia wolf, and for all of mankind
For the sorrows and destruction that man has left behind
Forever scarring mother earth and leaving her flesh bare
I searched inside her amber eyes, but no hope for us was there.
Please ivory wolf, your wisdom is what we need
Mankind kills your brothers, for greed and fashion they bleed
Cry for our souls, pale wolf, for if you look one is there
But you disbelieve as you watch us rip this world bare
Waxen wolf, I'd promise you we'd change, if only I could
Perhaps man would change if only they understood.
Cry for me, lonely wolf, have faith in me, in man
Take your eyes to my breast and my heart you may scan
Cry for us, Satin wolf, weep with your powerful voice
Tell mother that we're sorry, that we'd change if we had a choice
She looked to me with her amber gaze, and raised her head to the sky
And I heard the mournful sound of the lonely wo
Flightless || PROLOGUEIt was funny how one week could change so much in a person's life. Kaitlin tried not to think about how her world would never be the same again, but driving in silence, with nothing but her windshield wipers slapping across her window to keep her company left her doing just that.Flightless || PROLOGUE2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She wished she could just turn back the clock to the previous week, back when everything made sense. The only way to sort any of it out was to just make a list of things she had lost, and a list of what she had now. She was feeling very glass half empty, with most of what she had now being something she didn't want in the first place.
'Last week,' she started in her head, 'I was graduating college, had a stable relationship with the man of my dreams, and an internship for a job I could see myself working in for years. This week-'
"How much longer do we have?" a tired voice from the backseat interrupted her thoughts.
She didn't look at him as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel of her jeep, staying
the blue doorthere's a woman who lives opposite me, on the other side of the road. her fence is too tall, and so are her shoes. she has a blue door with an oval of glass in the centre. it looks like an ugly mirror; she likes this because what does it imply of the subject within the frame if the mirror itself is ugly?the blue door5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
she was born in austria and still has the accent to prove it, but no longer the husband. she writes at night, on a typewriter because that's what he liked. she wrote him letters, she wrote stories of his life. mostly, she focused on his inability to differentiate between 'always' and 'never.'
"what's the difference?" he would always say, a furrowed line, one that looked like it belonged in a brown field of upturned soil with radishes beneath it, appearing.
and she would tell him (,")everything.(")
she has horseshoes wrapped around her hips for no other reason than they're poetic to her lonesome ears. i would see her on palm sunday and christmas, and she would always look younger in apr
Dragon TamerThis text contains TF and/or TG as well as mild sexual scenes and bad languageDragon Tamer5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So if you don't like any of the above, go find something else to read
The TGF Writer
I'm happy, euphoric, overjoyed.
Because I've just been accepted as a dragon tamer!!!
Sure, it's not as flashy or popular as being a dragon rider.
Nor as risky and adventurous as dragon hunter.
Or as versatile and well paying as a dragon user.
But without tamers, it'd be impossible to domesticate most dragons, even less ride or use them in everyday life.
Plus, being a tamer and all, you can latter on apply for rider if you want to, and the requirements aren't as tough as when you try applying directly.
There are a lot of perks to this job as well.
First off, you have a choice as to what dragons you want to tame, and, unlike with riders, you can change the dragons you're taming (instead of being stuck with the same o
Die deutsche Passion english translationDie deutsche Passion english translation2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
by Uwe Lammler
We live in tribes, where strife and envy
From the edge of history cries out for fratricide
We dream in forests with dense foliage,
In the fog and below the silence of the Rauhnacht,
We reign in legends, sung from far away,
Noone penetrates in the glow of our Sun Fire
And lately became a name our taint and reward
But even our becoming was always passion.
The wall of the Romans cut through our land,
The West and the South supported the enemy
And bought from outside with good profit
Amber and various household items made of tin,
But even the tamed in the Roman state,
Thought about renunciation and vile treachery,
Wakes up in the Cherusci the old teutonic spirit,
Varus will become the victim of the German passion.
Who doesn´t avoid horror, should be warned,
Death won´t be longer a suffering, the death will be passion,
Who stays close to the source, who gives birth to life,
Laughs at the fools who adorn shamefully themselves,
Barbar, which was meant a
Russia x Reader x LithuaniaRussia x Reader x Lithuania3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was just a normal day in the Russian household. Ivan was of course torturing his three Baltic "friends". You wanted him to stop for the mercy of them. But why would he stop even if you say so? You gave a sigh and give up on trying to help them. You looked very disappointed in yourself since you don't have any courage to stand up to him. You were very sad that you had to watch your own friend Toris getting torture almost everyday. In secrect you really loved Toris but you had a forced relationship with Ivan. Once he was done with his torture he grabs you by the hand and he holds you closely and tightly. You really didn't like Ivan at all. In fact he just scares the crap outta you. You can't handle his demented side because of how scary it truely is. All he does is smile at you very child like. You did a pretend smile, fearing him greatly. Ivan grabs your hand gently then kisses you deeply. In the inside you are shaking but you kiss him back. "I love you my beautiful sunflower~" he sa
She Screamed Like a Whooping CraneWhen I shower, I always wring out my hair afterwardsShe Screamed Like a Whooping Crane1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because thats what I was taught to do
So that my pillow wouldn't get cold and damp
It's so that my head won't weigh down
So that I can stand straight
And I need more sleeping pills to keep me dreaming
Keep the lights down low to keep from screaming
But my voice is gone and I can't cry today
And when the sun burns me alive
They think that I'm okay
Just turn off the bathroom lights
And try to find her in the dark
Find her in the mirror
But all I can feel is her still heartbeat worlds and worlds away
I know that she's gone
And in the dark
My own shadow flees from me
Because I'm not worth following
And all thats left is to bathe
And hope that maybe
I'll mistake the tears for water drops
Just scrub my skin raw and rip the vanity out of my flesh
Until I can bleed sanity from every pore
And feel the embrace of the therapeutic spray
I turn the hot water up until I can't hea
absencesbut this isn't just distanceabsences3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as in space, not just distance as in
"i can't believe how far you
are from me, i miss you" -
this isn't just distance
in the way
that roads seem to spill over
hilltops for years,
stretching like skin across knuckles
but never ending,
this is the kind of distance
that isn't seen but instead felt,
that isn't marked by miles
or gas money and can't be pinned in two
spots on a map with red thumbtacks:
this is not hearing from you
and knowing you haven't noticed.
this is wanting to have you
and knowing you're just fine
this is the kind of distance
that knows broken bridges, that hurts
because it feels
like it can't be mended, and because
LuciferLucifer6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A perfect artisan,
he created me from air and light
and the warmth
of all the music that he knew.
He placed honey on my tongue
and lit a thousand questions upon my lips
that burned too brightly
and left me thirsty.
He dressed me in soft wings
and linen so crisp and clean
it blinded my limbs
and burned my skin
to the smooth white of graven images
that bewitched my pride
and darkened my heart.
He sat me at his table
and fed me grapes and figs
to whet my appetite
and make me ache
for one moment of blinding grandeur
that I could capture
and would outshine him.
He flaunted wisdom of the ages
and the fragile heart
of unseen worlds and tongues.
He made promises with colors
and prisms of good and evil
that sullied my lips like forbidden fruit
and made me crave more.
An imperfect angel,
I was created in his image
and the curse
of all the beauty that he loved.
He placed desire in my heart
and a lust for adoration
that took me to his edge
but could not be denied.