-Orison--Orison-11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let there be everlasting light
and as the breath left
her body she was bathed
in warm sunlight
filtering through the
golden canopy above.
Let there be eternal music
and was met with the
fluttering of the butterflies,
the gentle whispering
of the summer breeze and
the melody of a hummingbird.
Let there be enduring peace
and before her very eyes
vines grew up over the trees
without competition, then
a ladybug sat beside her
without fear of being crushed.
Let there be unearthly beauty
and beside her bare feet sat
an exquisite and precious gift –
a pretty child with laughing
eyes and long golden hair…
as the dusty pink gown
swirled around slender legs
and her bare toes danced
through the trickling stream,
she finally understood.
Wings spread, eyes open,
looking upwards as the
flowers fell she knew
she was truly blessed in
the simple joys of life…
Last Goodbyeseyes downcastLast Goodbyes7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
last words sealed with
closed mouth kiss
this is the thanks I get
and cold regret
this gift's been given
for the last
these open arms they
a farewell just in case
your heart becomes misplaced
a fire burns
for such a short
I'll light a candle
I'll tie the knot
with a final kiss
a feeling like coming home
this sense of longing fits
like a glove
hold your breath
it fades away
these aching words
from bitter tongues
mean more to me
than you will
these last goodbyes
oh, so casual
each star in my sky
burns out when you
Hostility Towards TerragenHostility Towards Terragen11 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Hostility towards the program terragen has always been present, and most likely, always will be. But let's get down to brass tacks. What is terragen? It's a 3d scenery generator. Right. There's no real Modelling process involved per se, and it looks and works completely different (to all means and purposes of the majority) to a 3d modelling application such as 3d studio max or Maya. It is comprised of a series of mostly numerical controls, and a few random generators based on numerical/slider inputs.
...this means, it's an easy program, and requires little or no effort to pull off good results.
Here's my favourite word of this article. WRONG.
The program is as deep as you want it to be, just as many other art orientated programs are. The quality of the results produced from it are proportional to the artists skill in using it. Just becau
sweet dreams, sweetheart..sweet dreams, sweetheart..11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sun has drawn its curtains,
the stars dance in the sky,
as butterflies kiss your sweet forehead,
I sing this lullaby.
The wind sighs in careless breezes,
and flowers fade away,
rest on feather pillows,
watch white sheets turn to grey.
Please rest well my lover,
I pray this slumber will not end,
as I'll tiptoe through the hallway,
and fuck your hot best friend.
dragdrag11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of anathematized eggheads, dead poets, uprooted saddle-tramps -
an eclectic shangri-la that impales itself upon her sensibilities
like a beached whale on her shore
And this cold, small man-
call him Animus Annihilated-
"You wanna see Heaven baby?, Here's your chance." -
An open invitation to cool her heels in
the shadow of his soul.
Hoodwinked by her own loathsome ideal
she ogles the out-side,
staring through the cigarette that drips from her mouth,
into her love's eye
UnrequitedHis love is like a sharp-edged flower of glass,Unrequited6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And he gives thanks for each drop of blood
That falls from his lips when he steals a kiss.
He chases her like a spring wind in scorching heat
And only laughs as she stirs his hair and spins away,
Teasing him with the indifferent blessing of her breath.
He seeks to drown himself even when the water
Rejects him for a fool and a causeless martyr,
Because even suffering is sweet when she gives it.
SleepSleep12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a tsetse fly
drinks its next meal
the sun, newborn crying,
is sky ilk
a maze of feathery canopy;
the Bandundu forest,
gives birth to a
litter of bananas-
grass covered savannahs,
stubborn windblown maize
to the river, where
water walking fish farmer
casts a drowsy eye
on a school of tilapia
playing in his bamboo den;
a kihuta viper opens
its razor mouth
while decadent sockets,
hanging by swollen neck,
as he is carried to the garden.
like an old antelope
pulses, waiting to slip
into its last coma,
palm stem walls blanketing
the mind's catacombs
while your planted carcass watches
a tsetse fly
drink its next meal.
Kaboom - X - PoetryKaboom - X - Poetry7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
[The Silent Guard]
Ive seen so many eyes in every size
slowly rest upon me
From everywhere they come and stare
and wonder how this could be
My heart so swells for I wish to tell
but cannot, unfortunately
Though most dont know, what they behold
is the utmost of penalties
In such primordial time as mine
I plotted what others could not
to speak for Earth from deep within
and guard it peacefully
but the effect of dissent usually meant
a harrowing eternity
and because statutes were absolute
there was no exception with me
Esteem you should, for this aging wood
is where Ive come to be
The colors may fade, but I will remain
gazing but placidly
Youll come to find Ill live in your mind
long after you turn to leave
The passive unblind, remember my kind,
the voice of the crying trees
I am Dryad.
-Mellissa Thomas (KilikaMel)
Awake Under the BlanketsAwake Under the Blankets11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Closer to darkness than anticipated,
the shadows breach the wall and slip
across the carpet.
With childish certainty the danger slides
and toils and bristles with thorns and eyes,
and eyes peer out from under sheets.
Magic never stood the test of time,
but clutching teddy close
prevents a mind spilling into tears.
Evil stalks on spindle legs
grown knobby and buckled through age,
the weight of slushy ooze a challenge.
Ears pick out the smacking of lips,
a meal made of child on the menu,
the slither of entrails never tucked in.
Move and be found, the little boy lost
inside the mind of an adult left to think,
quake with unease, but barely breath in truth.
While eager tentacles fumble with claws
made scratchy through crushing babies bones,
a pulse throbs under the blankets.
Catch the glow beneath sleeping cloth,
the torch bulb switched to combat fear,
and see the throwing off of covers.
The monster reels, flailing parts unknown,
descending the stair that waits in silence
at the back of the
Kaboom - Hi - PoetryKaboom - Hi - Poetry7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I will be your diligent maven for tonight
What, pray tell, would you like to try?
If its a dose of inspiration you have a taste for
I cook a spicy montage with great ardor
rich with animation, feeling, and color
You will inevitably request another
helping of such infectious splendor
Ah, have you sampled the high contrast yet?
Tis a fond specialty, I do guarantee
Id certainly be honored if youd let me
compose one of my best pieces for you
or is glamour perhaps more of what youre into?
Rest assured, dear guest, I prepare that too
The glamour platters seasoned with the finest rays of sunshine
and expertly sculpted with lights from premium vine
Theyre sweetly splashed with shadows and doused in diffusion
and envelop our guests in the most pleasant illusions
I also offer the drama and dynamism platter
seasoned with emotions and motions that matter
It offers an aroma most equal to its sight
I invite you to please take a cur
Amber Pools - the whole storyAmber Pools - the whole story11 years ago in Teen More Like This
Prelude: Dream of Me
I'm not sure how I ended up in front of the church, but at the moment it didn't seem to matter. I stood at the foot of the stone steps in a deep blue fitted gown. Blue? What happened to black? Well guessed I must not be there for a funeral... With blue flowers in my hair and a white rose in my hand, I wandered through the large wooden doors, hoping I looked like I belonged. I'm not sure why the sudden impulse to go there, I just knew that I had to.
No one seemed to notice me as I made my way through the church halls. I walked easily, letting my feet guide me as if I had been there many times before. I came to a chapel decorated with pink delicate roses. How nauseating. I slipped into the back pew and placed my rose beside me. Things were making little sense. I looked around me, not recognizing anyone. Why was I in a church at a wedding?
in japanin japan13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the loose pages
of our open book
in some sort of wind
that comes from a somewhere
unknown to me,
from the ocean
i scrawl our story
in black and red ink
over the gentle lumps
woven into the sheets
of thick rice paper
they were crafted
between the soft fingers
of beautiful girls
with pale skin
and black hair
that flows in the wind
as they laugh
and watch the pacific
eat up the japanese shore
and it is beautiful
but i sigh,
i sigh because i know
that it is not the truth
there is no breeze
and there are no
stringing our love together
among off-white pages
there may be a book,
but it was crafted carelessly
between the hard palms
of old women
struggling to make a buck,
and sewn together
with sweet apathy,
and it waits
for ten dollars
and ninty nine cents
at the local bookstore
but i breathe in the salty air
of my imaginary ocean anyway,
and write down our love
in the book i dont own
made by the nimble fingers,
of the girls that
The Loneliness of The HopeThe Loneliness of The Hope12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stains of dense night
which is expanded as branches
it shades the sky
colours which grow dark
shading the sight in the tears
in the branches of the pain
covering the stars
covering the moon
darkening every light
darkening every smile
tears as leaves
they come off the branches
they fall in the night
they mark the shade as falling stars
and they dance as feathers
in a winter of pain
where the moon cries the own sun
where the tears are blood
and where the river begins
pain drops transported by the current
the time dies
been drowned in the despair
fingers drenched with blood
which for the answers still look
they follow the river
to understand that the end is only the beginning
to understand that every tear
will cut for always the soul
wounds on a bark
interrupted the rings of the life
bleeding the despair
shouting again the snow
winter which dances in the darkness
clouds of shade which melt themselves in the air
shivers of intense cold
dress made of stone
I fall in the river
Life is...Sometimes I wonder: what am I?Life is...7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I look at the stars and feel very small;
just a tiny consciousness.
But if I were as tall as a planet,
I would still be short in comparison to the universe.
I see a person twice my size
and I feel weak and fragile.
But if I were strong and powerful,
I would still not be invincible.
I see a painting by the hand of a genius,
and I feel inexperienced and ignorant.
But if I were the greatest artist alive,
it would not make me love what I do any more or less.
I see blood, running from the wound of another,
and I feel a chilling fear from deep within.
But if I walked this earth with bravery,
it would not make things less dangerous.
I see a baby, innocent and naive,
and I feel cynical and jaded.
But if I saw through untainted eyes all my life,
it would not make the world a better place.
I see a raindrop, tear of the sky,
and I feel ugly and unsightly.
But if I were as beautiful as rain,
it would not make me crystal clear inside.
There are children with cancer,
Trickster's GambitThere are many of us in the forest. Grimmlings, we are, imp-wraiths of the woods. All the same, each to each, such that even where there is one, there is no I. And we slither unseen through the prickly brush, and you do not see us, for you do not even know we are there.Trickster's Gambit7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
We are tricksy, foolish mortal, and it is best that you do not cross us, for we serve the Erl-King, and he is a vengeful lord, though fair and pleasing to the mortal eye. And this he knows, ah, this he knows too well, for he likes to lure the maidens to the forest there, and they do not often return to their village homes. Some stay with us and join our court, but others do not, and it is they who the villagers find floating in the streams, strewn with wreaths of flowers, and it is they who wake up dead upon the barren drifts of snow beneath the ancient pines, enveloped in brightly colored swaths of their own red blood.
There is a Man-King who lives above the village in a castle upon a hill. He had a son o
The Littlest PresidentThe Littlest President12 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
The Littlest President
At the age of eleven I was elected the 50th president of the United States of America. My analysts put my win down to youth (I was the youngest ever to run) and to the unfortunate late-October acne breakout of my incumbent rival, an eighth grader from Massachusetts. I have a stronger faith in the New Rules than do my analysts, who are always looking at polls and running them through sacred formula. I ascribe my presidency to the good sense of America, my hard work at Security School, and the stunning leadership of my handlers.
Once my presidency was officially announced, my face was given another coat of foundation and I was ushered up to a podium in front of a large crowd of my supporters. There was a crashing sea of applause. Most of my supporters were dumpy women in their thirties – just barely old enough to remember a time before we had the New Rules – these were my core demographic, although my handlers dutifully i
Halfwit - Chapter 1...Twelve years of experience in school sports, and Stan Marsh found himself lying motionless on the basketball court. The world around him wavered whenever he opened his eyes, so of course, he kept them closed, to avoid getting dizzy and throwing up like he did when he was younger. He heard this odd buzzing in the back of his head, and a million people sounding like Kenny tried to reach him. He imagined himself bringing his hand to his forehead, but couldn't find the strength to do so. He had a fairly decent imagination, though, so doing so calmed his nerves a bit.Halfwit - Chapter 1...9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Dude! Duude! You okay?" he finally managed to make out from the scramble of voices.
Stan had no intention of opening his eyes right then. He felt himself being carried out of the court by his arms, and gently dropped down onto some thin, cold polished wood thing.
"Stan? You alright, dude?" it was the same voice from earlier.
"Kyle?" Stan whispered.
"You're alright!" Kyle yelled.
"Ow…ow…" Stan muttered, this time bringing his
Kaboom - IV - ProseKaboom - IV - Prose7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Lonely Door
Stupefaction wrenched Jenna as she watched uniformed police officers canvas all her rooms. Each room echoed intermittent clicks from the labor of sophisticated cameras.
The detective before her snapped her back into focus. Miss Saunders
Y-yes? ImIm really sorry. I just Her head snapped towards the top of the staircase as an officer photographed the hallway.
Oh. I understand, maam, he said lightly, forming a weak smile. Theres a lot going on at once, all these people in your house. Sorry about that. Im Detective Jeff Briggs. My partners outside. Um, how old is your daughter?
Lost but not Gone -southpark-Lost but not Gone -southpark-9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Calm down, Kenny!" said a rather frightened looking Stan Marsh.
It was in the middle of recess, on a cold autumn day. Classmates had formed a circle around me and Stan, egging us on to fight.
"NO I WON'T! I AM SICK AND TIED OF NOT BEING NOTICED IN YOUR STUPID GANG! GOODBYE!" I screamed, before I stormed out of the playground.
That was about 5 years ago. It was that day I walked out on my 'best friends'. Can't really say they were though… to be honest, I always felt left out. Everything always seemed to revolve around Cartman, Stan or Kyle. Me? Never.
I was too busy being yelled at by an alcoholic father and being blamed for everything by my mother to do anything worthwhile. I was just the perverted one in the group who was always used like a prop. I was never noticed.
After that day, Stan, Kyle and Cartman would try to get me to forgive them.
"Please, Kenny. We're sorry! We didn't know you felt like this!" Kyle would plead.
But I would never even look them in the eye. I didn't want
High School: Chapter 1High SchoolHigh School: Chapter 19 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chapter 1: Waiting and Debating
It was another cold day at the school bus stop. Snow covered the ground, as usual. A little cloudy not a lot of sunlight. Normal. Boring. Nothing different. That is, if you want to count that it is five years later in the small hick town called South Park. More or less everything was the same, just older. The town did not seem to change at all. Nothing was different, or was there?
Two teenage boys were seen standing at the yellow bus stop sign. None looked happy, neither looked sad. Just there. Standing. Waiting for the bus in the freezing cold weather. But luckily they both had the proper clothing to wear.
The one on the left, closest to the sign, wore a green hat that covered his 'ears,' at the side. Sort of like earmuffs. Around him, was a orange, green collared, coat with two visible pockets in the front. Lower, was his teal greenish, blue pants that hung down almost over his black shoes. Eyes searched left, then right, as if trying to s
Kaboom - XII - PoetryKaboom - XII - Poetry7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as time colludes with your decision
past the point of swift revision
in the ambit of perdition
on this eventual occasion
when naught is left but dour persuasion
past the point of instigation
what will be your resolution
if my plea meets dissolution
and barren obscures this confusion
from this dire transmutation
before the callous castigation
and any further tribulation
if you heed not this premonition
then kismet in all its precision
will sanction our permanent partition
SP CWB Chapter oneSP CWB Chapter one8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Clean. White. Beautiful.
Craig did not take the bus to school, had not since his years at South Park Elementary, he preferred walking, he could be a little early or a little late that way, the flexibility suited him better and the extra exercise was good for him too, he decided. His sister walked with him on the years they found themselves going to the same building as they did for this, Craigs senior year.
Neither of them said much, Ruby glanced over to her big brother every now-and-again, worry etched across her face, wanting to ask if he was okay but knowing he would say he was even though she knew he was not.
That was how he was though indestructible.
Only not the Craig she knew. Not always.
At school he seemed like a different person, she rarely talked to him during school hours and all her friends were a little afraid of him and the way he scowled about the place, flipping people off and yelli
SP - Clean. White. Beautiful.SP - Clean. White. Beautiful.8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Clean. White. Beautiful.
Yeah I know it hurts, yeah I know you're scared.
Walking down the road that leads to who knows where.
Don't you hang your head, don't you give up yet.
When courage starts to disappear, I will be right here.
I Will Carry You by Clay Aiken.
The dark-haired teen stood in his back yard, eyes to the sky, watching the snow fall. Like being in a snow-globe, he thought, a smile crossing his face as he did so. Snow never fell in a straight line, it almost floated down, swaying and twirling, dancing to the music the wind played but so few people bothered to listen to anymore.
Craig still listened. He heard.
He had always liked that about snow the way it would fall from above, like a beautiful gift, and wipe everything clean. How it would cover the sin. He did not think South Park would b
SP: Always returnSP: Always return7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter 1: Coming back...
It started a couple of years ago, when Kyle Broflovski and Rodney Tweek Tweak moved from South Park to San Francisco. They left their friends behind and more. That their friends didnt know was that they returned years after.
Kyle was sitting in the car with his parents and little brother Ike. He had changed a lot, more than his mother was expecting. He had talked to Tweek the day before, sense he was already there. He was nervous how it will go sense they moved away in the beginning because of his fathers job in SF and the same had Tweeks dad did. But still he wasnt pleased to be moving back to South Park.
Kyle: Why do we have to move back to that hell hole?
Sheila: Watch your mouth boy! Were moving back because your father and I desisted it was time to move back.
Kyle: Youre kidding
Sheila: Yes. I got a better job there, thats why.
Ike: Well Im much exited!