with thanks to frost Now with a reading.with thanks to frost2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
two roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what
Hades and Persephone (Part 5)Hades and Persephone (Part 5)2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
PERSEPHONE SAT IN HER ROOM, glancing at the window. There was not much to look at. Hades had put her room away from the others, toward the wastelands of the Underworld, the empty lands, where there was nothing much besides black ground and pillars of smoke. She knew that if her room were at the other end of the palace, she would see fire and destruction.
Hades had said he would return in a day or two. That meant she still had a slight chance to get out. Not of the Underworld. She knew that was impossible. She wanted to at least see the gardens. If anything, they were still growing things, and they offered no ridicule or emotions.
She stood, walking over to her door, opening it so there was only a small crack. The large, black dog outside of her door was sleeping soundly, even snoring slightly. The snore was deep and ragged, more like a growl with each inhale.
Persephone slid out of her door, shutting the door softly. The dog did not stir.
She continued her w
A Snowfall CandlelitMy version of winter has always been flawed. It is controlled by the fall of snow and the exact amount of the ground it covers. It never ever covers the tiny little patch in the garden, right near the broken tin roofed shed. I suppose that is why I just like the idea of snow. But I do not love it.A Snowfall Candlelit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(Realisation: I suppose that little corner represents the only part of me that even I cannot love.)
I met a man with candle lit wolf eyes and a strong, warm lion heart, who tells me Sea God stories before disappearing into a cold, cold winter's morning, fog cloaking his very essence.
(Addendum: Sometimes I think of five a.m. coffee, and wonder if your smile didn't hold all of winter's warmth in it, whether I would still be liking the idea of it.)
He lights candles and turns my room into a place of sanctity and prayer often. It makes the love making ironic in a way, I suppose. But nothing he ever does fails to intrigue the very fabric that my cotton soul is made of.
ti wrote you a lettert2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i slept for twenty hours
then i realised
that i loved you in a language
you couldn't understand
and if she loves you
with her body, and
that is what you understand
then i hope
you can be happy
and i hope one morning
you wake up and realise
that you aren't
inktrust me enoughink2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to let me carve my love into the
quiet slope of your back.
let me feel each bone,
feel your spinal cord humming
beneath my fingertips.
let me feel
ocean planetsRead aloud here.ocean planets2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and what immortal hand or eye could frame
the cities drowned in sharp, unspoken fears,
and sound the silent depths and dream to tame
their deepest of abyssal teeth. and years
will pass and years will follow down below.
and roaming jaws will take their prey and grin
and fear no cosmic consequence. they know
that blackened waves will hide the darkest sin.
no faith survives these godforsaken seas,
no faith can match the weight of death and space--
the snow of snuffed-out souls feeds this disease:
leaves leper scars on corpses doomed to waste,
and soft, with gentle hands it leads them down
the breakers will always call us homedon't mind my voicethe breakers will always call us home2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the twilight.
i am without shoes,
beneath my wings.
i was the well that fed the lake--
i [saw] your fingers touching the water.
where did you sleep last night?
Is atheism based on faith?The definition of 'faith' is "belief that is not based on proof". Can you prove that God does not exist? You can't, hence atheism is faith. This statement alone would be very controversial so let me elaborate.Is atheism based on faith?2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I think your objection as an atheist to this statement might be that you've always maintained that atheism is the neutral position and now suddenly I'm bringing that into question for you. However, the fact that atheism is a belief does NOT depreciate atheism or the arguments for it. An atheist is still a non-believer and it's a very rational position to take. If however you feel uncomfortable with the idea that there is no evidence of the non-existence of God and therefore atheism is faith, perhaps you will find comfort in considering yourself an agnostic and anti-theist. Let me elaborate on that.
Most atheists consider themselves atheist because they don't see how God could be real and I take that position as well. Someone recently told me there are two forms of
Hades and PersephoneThe Dark Divine Chapter 4Hades and Persephone4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It wasn't even a full twenty-four hours before Hades was summoned back to Olympus. 'If he thinks I'm going to apologize to that little brat, he's even more diluted than I thought.' Hades thought to himself, pulling his motorcycle into the parking lot once again. He had never seen Hecate laugh as much as she did when she saw the pink icing in her master's hair. If he was to retain any pride for yesterday's episode, apologies were not an option.
The halls seemed quieter than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. After the small food fight that had occurred the party was cut dramatically short and pretty much everyone had left for their homes. Hades walked calmly through the halls of his brothers and sisters' house.
This was the most he'd been up here since Aphrodite's last wedding anniversary. That entire weekend had been a complete joke. Aphrodite flirted with almost every male present in a scrap of fabric that b
Hades and PersephoneThe Dark Divine Chapter 3Hades and Persephone4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hades despised Olympus.
In fact, he made it a point to tell his brother, at least once a visit, how much he absolutely hated this glowing monstrosity. It was too bright, too white, too. . .Olympian.
It wasn't that it was ugly or not well-crafted. No, Athena herself made sure that this would be the envy of every structure known to man or mortal. It was the way it was presented, with an ostentatious attitude that made the Parthenon look like a gas station bathroom. He was reminded of this fact with every step closer he came to its golden gated entrance. Hades never really understood the need for the gates. It wasn't like they had neighbors and privacy was something Zeus abandoned years ago.
The only other complaint he had was it's endless supply of optimists. Olympus was constantly in a state of joy (or at least drunken happiness) and it annoyed him to no end. Between Dionysus' wild parties every other week, Athena
reclaimsubmerged in silent seas among the polyps,reclaim3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pressure polished--a sparkle like Calypso's shuttle
shines elliptic and elusive in the downs, down where
optics fail and the seafloor ripples catch and sway
in swirling riddles like scattered Coptic stanzas.
snatched from Assyria, gold stolen and cycled
through serial societal transgressions--and once
aerial, contraband clutched in raptor snares
slipped--spilled, among the Urals,
and spinning through the acid and urea
of city sewers, doused in chloride
and the caustic current leading to the sea,
collapsing into Celtic knotwork; enclosed
in sand and calyxed like the season's close,
calcite-consumed, sunken, decayed--
20 Rules of Thorin and Company 20 Rules of Thorin and Company20 Rules of Thorin and Company2 years ago in Humor More Like This
1. Despite having a name Bilbo Baggins shall always be referred to as ‘the Hobbit’ or ‘Burglar’.
2. Thorin’s speeches are majestic and must be adhered to at any point in time.
3. Balin must always be the one to tell stories of the past.
4. When the Hobbit states that you have parasites it is wise to always play along.
5. Kili and Fili are never to be separated. Ever.
6. Trolls cannot be reasoned with. They are half-wits.
7. Kili and Fili are not to watch the ponies. Ever.
8. Elves are not appropriate company. The only time an elf may appear in dwarvish speak is in the context of an insult. For example, tree shagger is most appropriate.
9. Bofur is the ultimate good guy, no matter what people might say about dwarves.
10. Do not take Bofur’s hat. Under any circumstances. Ever.
11. Do not take Thorin's sword. Under any circumstances. Ever. Unless you like being cut in half.
12. Troll hoards stink. End of story. De
dreamsong :work in progress:i. from the seadreamsong :work in progress:2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The girl in the white dress is splayed against the salt-dark sand like a scrap of cloth. The sea, receding, whispers quiet self-assurances.
The boy who travels shadows hates this part of his patrol. He belongs beneath the trees and in the dense, wet heat--not here. Here, he is prey to endlessness.
The shadow boy skirts the fringes of the sand, taking what comfort he can from the stunted groundcover, blue and faintly glowing in the moonlight. The muscles in his shoulders twitch, and he grits his teeth against the overwhelming fear of exposure.
At least astronomy is in his favor--full moons make for good shadows. Quick escapes.
The heady rush and hiss of the ocean is making him nearly come undone when he sees her, the dress shining like a strand of whitecap detached and thrown back. He tenses.
He gulps a deep breath and steadies himself before throwing himself in the openness of beach. With no shadows to hold onto, h
driftListen to this aloud here.drift2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes we move like glaciers.
slow sliding continental shift
one particle at a time--
our vantage point unchanged for years
and years will pass with more years behind
and we will remain deceptively still
we carry things with us,
pebbles and twigs we rest on
for years and years--
but we can cast back
explore the ages we contain,
kept safe inside ourselves.
each grain of sand held close
whispering of ages long since returned to dust--
ages we have seen grow and die
ages we carry
we move like glaciers
quiet and assured
and years will pass with more years behind
but when time has grown tired,
we will remain.
we will have tales to tell.
Hades and PersephoneThe Dark Divine Chapter 7Hades and Persephone3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hades took a deep breath and plopped down into the chair behind his ebony desk. His long fingers slid over his face as he leaned back in his chair. The past few hours had been exhausting to say the least, and Hades was beginning to understand why mortals turned to alcohol. Nothing was happening as planned, and at the moment he wasn't even sure what the plan was anymore. This was supposed to be an easy way out of family gatherings, but was quickly becoming one of the most stressful things Hades had ever endured.
This afternoon had been a disaster.
After signing off on the extension of the East Waiting Room, Hades had to go down to the dock's gates and check on how Cerberus was doing. He got pretty restless when Hades took long trips like this and had probably tried to eat someone again. Hades turned back around to face Persephone who was gawking like some sort of deranged tourist. He had been a little hesitant to leave such a nai
That You Are My HorizonIron-rust, and corrosionThat You Are My Horizon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
chronicle forgotten years
in the drydock basin, where I lay
in disrepair. A ship
unaware of the ocean, wracked
upon the waves of long ago
and marked with wounds
only salt can heal.
But storms are kind
reminders of the way seawater swells
into knuckles and joints
and trembles beneath the hull
while carrying men to port,
And in the windspray
of one such storm
I tasted just a hint
of salt, of you
and knew, again
something I once thought
before time and reason
took courage from me.
Hades and PersephoneThe Dark Divine Chapter OneHades and Persephone4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Asphodel," He yawned, resting his head on his hand. The translucent man before him bowed profusely and left in the direction of the Fields of Asphodel. After two thousand years of the same routine with little to no variation, a person (immortal or not) tends to get a little bored.
The lines seemed a little longer than normal today, or maybe it was they had a bit more difficult cases in them that made them seem so lengthy. Whatever the case, Hades was eager to be done for the day so he could return to his home, feed his three-headed dog, Cerberus and then himself, and retire to his chambers for the evening. That was his routine, as well as his curse. Wake with the dawn, sentence the souls, feed Cerberus and then wait for another day that was exactly like the last seventy-two thousand, nine hundred and ninety five days before it.
When the last of the souls were sorted out and the next boat full wouldn't come f
Una historia juntosManuel, un niño de femeninas facciones, de cara suave y despejada, con grandes ojos semejantes al sol, que da la sensación que se pueden perder en ellos, nació tras la unión de Antonio Fernández, un hombre español bien parecido, alegre, y junto a una muchacha muy ruda, de piel morena, cabello largo negro y liso, de cuerpo pequeño y menudo, pero que no por eso débil, quien todos conocía como "Mapu", la relación de sus padres no era del todo buena, pero se notaba que estaban muy enamorados. Mapu, se sentía orgullosa de haber tenido un niño tan hermoso y sano, con el hombre que ama, tenía rasgos de ambos, los ojos grandes, almendrados y color avellana, pelo liso firme y brillante que saco de su madre, y una piel rosada, pelo castaño y facciones menudas de su padre. A pesar de todo lo que se podrían querer el español y la araucana, Manuel nunca fue reconocido poUna historia juntos3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Boarding School: Avengers AUDr. Fury was a tough principal to impress. He played favorites, and anyone who didn't quite make his standards was humiliated in front of the entire school during assembly or graded harshly, so harshly that he or she flunked. He knew that his students resented him, and he used that to his advantage. One of his favorites was Tony Stark, because he was brilliant, but more importantly, rich and influential. While he wouldn't normally allow a student to get an extension on a grade, Tony could get away with it. But Tony wasn't sick, or stressed. He had an ulterior motive for putting off his paper. He didn't normally attend such plebeian events as parties, but the rumor was that the school's model student, Steve Rogers, was attending. He never went to any of those sort of functions, afraid that if he drank too much and made a mistake he would be kicked off of the football team and a promising career with college football and then the NFL would be over before it started. According to the rumoBoarding School: Avengers AU3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Polvo en el VientoIPolvo en el Viento2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Se queda quieto, estático, y sin la más mínima expresión en su cara. La lluvia cae con violencia en la calle, en la acera, y se pregunta cómo no fue capaz de predecir que llovería, o preocuparse si quiera de mirar el tiempo en la televisión. La oficina ya estaba cerrada, su llave revoloteó en su bolsillo, pero no quiso volver por un paraguas. Además, su vehículo no estaba a diez cuadras de distancia. No era tan terrible permanecer cinco minutos seguidos bajo la lluvia.
Caminó, entonces, en el único deseo de llegar a su auto, subirse y partir a casa. Buenos Aires no es una ciudad que alentara a la gente a recorrer sus calles con forma de tablero de ajedrez. No cuando tiene la mente tan ida, al menos. No ese día, a esa hora.
No esa noche.
Cuando divisa a unos metros, a través del parabrisas, su casa, sonríe con amargura. Una sonrisa no esperada, desconocida. Se baja de su vehículo, entra, y el eterno silencio lo envuelve de nuevo, como nunca, como siempre. La clásica soledad, lo