Mary-Sue Warriors FailThe moon was shining darkly through the furry air of the clearing. All of the cats had begun to shed their orange-scented winter fur coats they had stolen from the badgers. This was OrangeClan. Stupidkit rolled over and died. There was no apparent reason for this, Stupidkit just sort of felt that way, you know?Mary-Sue Warriors Fail2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mother padded over to him, silently weeping red tears from her red eyes. The moonlight lit up the black wings she hid against her pelt.
"Oh no!" she gasped, the clan would know her secret that she was actually a starclan cat that had died when her father had been the one to become pregnant. The clan took no notice however as Firecrotch stared lovingly at slipperybutt.
Fallen AngelFallen Angel11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fallen angel donīt you cry
No one will wipe your bloody tears
Fallen angel why wonīt you fly?
Will you tire out through the years?
Will you go down to earth again?
Nothing will ever be the same
So fallen angel don't cry
Donīt you cry for me
Because I wonīt be there to wipe your tears
Like I always did through the years
Wipe the blood tracks from your face
Because mortals who see you,
Seek death's embrace
Angel face with a demon's soul
Fallen angel I love you.
Design a country work sheetDesign a country work sheet4 years ago in Settings More Like This
For those people who needs to design their own world.
This is a form I will use from now on to help me design it faster and more complete.
original from: droemar's journal
Edited by mayshing 2010
Colors: (An example would be red, white, and blue)
Symbol: (An example would be stars and stripes.)
calender measure (time table): (Does their calender go by the moon, or sun? Or other planets?)
Races: (The races that inhabit the area, whether or not they're native.
Physical: (The ethnic description of your race: skin color, hair color, builds, dress)
Preference to fashion and beauty:
Weather patterns: (Tropical? Stormy? Cold? Earthquakes? Climate in general?)
-how the weather influence inhabitants behavior, travel
Major river and lakes?
Any construction a
the Suicide NotePainted walls and empty rooms,the Suicide Note9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Dust gathers on the mantle, gray.
Windows churn a misty fog,
As I swiftly fade away.
Nothing matters. All is darkness.
Despair is human nature's call.
I am, in kind of likeness,
The one who measures each and all.
Give me C minor. And Canus Major,
Celestial music, what do you grant me?
But silence. Shh. A silence cager,
That keeps the wings clipped, far from free.
If I do not matter, am I so unimportant?
This is the note I leave you, for my conscience rests,
I wish you, all the love you deserve, but if you can't
I still wish you all the best.
I have tried to make amends for what I've done.
But it's useless to stop once you've begun.
And anything goes, bury me in roses,
And don't forget the thorns.
I might as well, lay down in the ground,
In a hole, 6 by 6, and let me down from
What I have here, what I've become.
Empty faces, empty places, all I have says
Papers discarded, what does life matter?
If they're all gone, and your eyes sting,
Last Goodbyeseyes downcastLast Goodbyes6 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
Every Man's Battle-The struggle of sexual purity.Before I start, yes, I know what website I am on.Every Man's Battle-The struggle of sexual purity.2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
That being said, lets look at some sobering statistics about sexual sin.
90% of Christian men admit being disconnected with God because of lust, porn, fantasy.
68% of male pastors seeks porn
81% of sex addicts (yes, its an addiction) are sexual abuse victims
88% of teens can't talk about sex to their parents.
93% of 15-19 year olds have a least one sexual partner in the last 12 months
93% of teens want/ are not getting the abstinence message.
These stats are sobering. Most Christian men are indistinguishable from the rest of the world when it comes to sexual purity. Why? Because Christian men look at the same things the rest of the world does. And somehow we think we are mature enough that we won't sin watching a racy movie...
This is a silent plague that is robbing the church. This is exactly what Satan wants. Satan's goal for the Christian man is to make him completely ineffective for the Kingdom of God. And lets be honest here. H
Perseus 3: Of Waffles and BetrayalThe waffles were, pardon the phrase, fit for a god.Perseus 3: Of Waffles and Betrayal3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Crisp outer shell, soft, warm, and steamy inside. Toasted to perfection, with a drizzle of honey. I lost count of them as I carboloaded in a semiconscious state of supreme happiness.
Eventually, I pushed away from the roughhewn table, gestured with both hands enough. My host, Ione, looked sadly at the plate of fresh waffles steaming on the platter she bore. Ione had been a good sport, manning the massive Olympian sized waffle iron as if it were the only working bilge pump on a sinking ship. I noted she'd not even broken a sweat, every hair in place, her tunic unstained. Even her hands remained clean.
"I shall write epic poetry of this feast," I burped.
Ione smiled, placed the platter beside my empty plate, and seated herself across from me. "We are pleased our humble service has uh, pleased you."
I waved a hand dismissively.
Red and BlueI said it onceRed and Blue1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I will say
Until you can
I want you
Until the end.
Til my last
Thought is formed,
Til my last
Word is spoke,
Til my last
Breath is took.
I want you
Until the end.
My love is
Deep for you,
My love is
True to you,
My love will
Only be yours.
I want you
Until the end.
Because you are
Mine, my man,
Because you are
My personal sunshine,
Because you are
What I want.
I said it once
And I will say
Until you can
I love you
With all that I am.
To BlodeuweddTo Blodeuwedd5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
O fairest maid of times flown by,
you came to be one autumn day,
to wed a man who had been cursed
to lead his life sans human wife.
From blooming buds of ochre broom,
his uncle wove your braided hair,
and let the breeze be your curls' comb
and spread your scent across the air.
From withered flow'rs of meadowsweet
he wove the webbing of your lungs;
from sturdy wood of dying oak
he carved the chambers of your heart.
But though he shaped your heart at will,
your heart was yours and yours alone,
and though you wed who he deemed fit,
you trailed your heart and yours alone.
And when you met another man,
and loved him in the way you could,
you schemed to kill your husband Lleu
and break the loathed chains for good.
You gleaned the knowledge of his flaws
and dreamed of birds uncaged and free.
You lured him into deadly snare,
the board set how 'twas meant to be.
But though the spear did strike its mark,
the wounded Lleu fast flew away,
and though you reigned in foolish bliss,
'twas not too long
You Can Say That Again*Flash fiction Island styleYou Can Say That Again4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Jesus saves! I cast you out in the name of Jesus! So screams the preacher man slamming his palm against foreheads to drive out demons. Not more than a few feet away from the pulpit, an eighteen year-old member of his congregation claps her hands and shouts hallelujah!
Jesus' name is again invoked a few days later as they lay sweating and groaning in the back seat of a rented car.
-See me and come live with me is two different ting
The girl is pretty in an unrefined way, brash and loud and totally unselfconscious.
Baby powder coats her neck, chest and back, visible in her low cut top.
Her rival, five years her senior, cuts her eye in contempt. 'Country booboo,' she thinks. 'She look like fish ready to fry. Plus she skin ashy and she look like she doan know how to use hot-comb.'
Despite her belief in her superiority, her man doesn't come back.
-Puss and dog no have d
clay reclaimedsprawled betweenclay reclaimed5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the wrong
side of twenty
no one is mistaken
for a flower
dressed in dark
and I found
the other side
I found a gleam
the hollow sound
my hollow sound
form begets friction
to bake this
to culminate in
so who will help me
make this mountain?
how to be spinelessi.how to be spineless4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i was running kites in
an empty airport terminal.
it was zen.
i was in a place where i
didn't have to be angry anymore.
i was protected by my own
sanctuary, digging itself
under my fingernails to keep
sanctuary is its own friendless
hell. it's where polaroids
disintegrate and hearts go mute.
in hell and in my sanctuary,
there's nobody for me
to call a liar [but me].
i forgot to tell myself
the truth about my petty cure
at the tip of this arrow:
life is a science,
not a eulogy; love sometimes equates
to third degree burns.
i have a map made of
fire. it's a timeline and
it tells me when your eyes turned from blue
to gone to honest, and how
my eyes haven't changed
[they're still dead harvest].
if i were to choose between my tongue
and my heart, would you still
love me in sign?
HeldWe loved like arson:Held8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
glow floats around like smoke, and distorts us,
restless, and tangles around the rafters,
the room imbued: remnants of star-fuelled lust.
We loved like fireworks, comets and fireflies.
We traced paths through constellations for hours,
across freckled skies, tasting the stars
with every kiss. The night went on for miles.
Now a cathartic still whispers, lingers
as the room burns orange in the morning's
luster. The carmine light bares a warning:
To keep my distance, or I'd clash with hers.
I leave her to draw the blinds, casting shad-
ows like prison-cell bars across the bed.
ASKtheARTIST InterviewASKtheARTIST Interview2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
ASKtheARTIST Interview with algenpfleger
Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is *thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview *algenpfleger, a very talented illustrator and creator of many well-known works on deviantART.
Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, algenpfleger.
*quietly sits down and sips on a mysterious beverage
WAIT ARE WE DOING THIS OR WHAT
*Vellez asks "What is your creative process? Do you just research and then begin drawing when you get an assignment, or do you mull it over a bit?"
Hmm it usually starts with me getting the assignment since I spend my freetime drawing other things mostly (these days at least). As soon as I know what the client wants, I leave it alone for a couple of days and wait for ideas to sprout in my head. The rest is just craftsmanship, you know, drawing the stuff and everything. The real work is done as soon as I put down the thumbnail sketch.
~smarff asks "How saturated do you think the illustra
Old hauntsNumb fingers fumble at coppersOld haunts3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a dodgy purple lighter which is unfit for purpose.
Giant splodges of stars
as if God - in a frolic of youthful exuberance
went wild with a paintbrush.
Granite delicately held by shape and contour alone.
Slotted together: a melee of ankles, hips, spontaneous larynx.
Careless hopes, dreams wide, menthol cigarettes.
Thoughts all quiet.
General Purpose Love LetterDear: _______________________General Purpose Love Letter5 years ago in Humor More Like This
My love! For too long I have kept my feelings secret. It's time I told you how I really feel, because:
[ ] It's making me crazy.
[ ] It's making my spouse crazy.
[ ] My therapist won't shut up about it.
[ ] The cops will be here any moment and there's no time.
Quite honestly, I'm a little obsessed. How can I make you understand? Let me try:
[ ] I tattooed your name on my body.
[ ] I tattooed your name on my spouse's body.
[ ] I changed all my pet's names to honor you.
[ ] Even the voices in my head are a little afraid of me now.
Whenever I think of you, I:
[ ] Dream of us together, forever.
[ ] Imagine what it would be like to hold you for a time.
[ ] Spasm, pass out, and wake up in a puddle of... um...
[ ] Push harder on the accelerator.
Your voice makes me:
[ ] Sigh contentedly.
[ ] Tremble like a leaf.
[ ] Tremble like a leaf-blower.
[ ] Imagine a choir of angels with loofahs.
I made a gift for you.
My Life as a PuddleMy Life as a Puddle6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I feel strange,
Memories that were vaporise
(Passing through me to you)
Moon rose from the shore,
Lacing the sky with hope
When you go, you reappear.
Time downpours into poetry
(Holding onto dreams)
Falling asleep alone.
Ill hold on to you
And tell you everything
Because you love stories.
Cherished dreams drain my eyes,
Patiently forming my heart.
I tried; I forget,
I got stronger (I died)
I came back to life,
I dont feel the same.
(Dont be hard on yourself)
I dont want to let you down,
I wont let you down
I know you tried hard,
I dont want to forget you.
(Its difficult but were stronger)
Im glad I found you on the other side of my pain.
The rich are big birds playing hide and seek in the dark
(Flickering glass candle wings decorate empty journal pages)
The stars in the sky reflect the worms on the ground.
Blindfolded little birds alight the stars playing with worms,
Following the pack exhausting our hearts with eyes closed.
OrientalismIn the day, yellow sandOrientalism4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the Taklamakan
coats the motorbikes
of your overlords
At night, this city's towers
gleam, a Chinatown of lights
(dragon gold, lantern red)
Here, you can eat
a Philadelphia roll
or a fortune cookie
on the side
Or you can dive
into a Pacific of
in wire cocoons
Don't get distracted
by the innumerable
neon kanji; trace
the tiny green
lights to the
at the end of
A Break in Dreaming.It is the silence that awakens him. He keeps his eyes closed, trying not to lose the final image of his dream, and he listens. He holds his breath and tries to ignore the beating of his heart so loud in his skull. He holds his breath and listens and hears nothing.A Break in Dreaming.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He opens his eyes and the smiling face of his ex-wife vanishes before a gray room. The light coming through the window is pale, so weak that it struggles to move through the dirty panes. He can see a tree branch, the final few enduring brown leaves being pushed by a cold wind.
He slides his hand across the dent in the bed. He imagines that there is something, someone, filling it. His hand glides across air and he can almost feel flesh. He can almost smell organic shampoo and coffee brewing.
He almost smiles, but catches himself.
He falls back to sleep, trying to follow his dream. Like returning to a book. Like un-pausing a movie he never wants to end.
And there is silence.