FrostWhen our lives were coldest and harshFrost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Something grew during the night
Feelings of fondness like morning frost
Glittering to our surprise in the morning light.
It was pretty and shone a brilliant white.
It made the dirty world beautiful and fresh
Though people trampled it in their flight.
Their busy lives, not paying heed or to realize
Some even cursed the presence of our frost
Because it reminded them of the world's cold bite.
But as sprouting sunny rays of stress break
I fear our frost is losing ground
I pray the frost to stay and not forsake
But I fear the frost will leave--
Leave as steam; no sign or trace to be found.
Connor: Remarkable Spirit"I have known true freedom."Connor: Remarkable Spirit3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The woods smelled fresh, the trees swaying gently with the warm summer breeze. Himself and several other boys from the village ran up the slope of the ravine. He stopped there to breathe, to let the woodland scents wash over him and his friends who too felt the same. This was a different place, a peaceful place.
"I have known a world of peace and remarkable spirit."
Aye, there was that at the top of this wooded hill. A sense of relaxation, of letting go. Here one could come and calm down a troubled soul. Aye, peace and spirit
"A world which was taken from me."
The longhouses were burning, up in flames that devoured the wood and the sheets of bark regardless. The orange demons reached to the sky. He ran, ran as he'd never ran before it was all engulfed. All of it. His mother. His family. His home. In vain he tried to rip the door open, the flames' heat searing his skin, drying up his tears in moments. He did not see the others trying to do
Connor: Out in the ColdHe lunged forward, defiant. And missed his mark. His feet slid out from under him on the powdery snow as he was pushed back. He fell onto his back with a dry grunt and rolled over or tried to. He was rolling. Just not aside but down. Along the snow that whispered dryly under him, his fingers gouging tracks in a futile attempt to stop.Connor: Out in the Cold4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He slid right out over the precipice in a white cloud of white powder, his hands scraped raw red by the coldness of the snow. He dangled the abyss, snow slowly floating past him with a deceptive ease. He panted, chest constricted by the press of the cliff edge.
Only the leather strap around his wrist stopped his free fall. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder down. It was a long way down, a very long way. His heart pounded in his heaving chest. It hurt to breathe. His wrist pulsed with every heart throb.
A shadow fell over him. Reflex took over. He glanced up, fast. To see the black barrel of a gun pointing at his face, the hammer drawn back.
glass boythe “I love you” never left my lips, forglass boy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thought it might sound pretentious,
though you wouldn't have heard me,
even if those words had been said.
and even if those words had been said,
your parrot voice would have merely
returned them to me in a gentle, dumb,
answering machine welcome message.
every time we talked,
there was the fear of shattering you.
you were my glass boy, a boy who was
breakable, yet malleable to the heat
of torched pressure.
but still there was me,
foolishly following the glass boy
wherever he might go.
one day my soul slipped in your puddled irises
and when I had come to the ground again,
you'd walked too far a distance for me to follow.
I lamented your loss in my life
until I realized you were never the flesh
I needed you to be.
glass boys will be glass boys.
Man Made the Money.Man Made the Money.Man Made the Money.3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
We think that if we had more money everything would be different.
That we would suddenly be able do all the things we always desired.
Because the lives we lead right now have become predictable and consistent.
And should we choose to, we could be the ones that are rejoiced and admired.
We could be the ones on the front cover of every magazine.
We could be the ones appearing on everyone’s television screen.
We could be the ones that the paparazzi haunt and terrorise.
We could be the ones that have our every move televised.
With the aid of money we could have unlimited vacations
And have access to an infinite amount of beneficial relations.
We could be the ones flocking and flaunting the finest fabrics
And every trivial experience we encounter will cause a global panic.
We could give back to charity and help to make the world a better place
We could cosmetically alter our bodies and readjust the features on our face.
We can become anyone we choose and crave.
Absence.Absence.Absence.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate the thought of coming home to an empty room.
It is a scenario my mind is not able to consume.
Even though I know you will be back soon.
I still have to wait for your return,
In order for my life to resume.