People Don't ChangeYou said people don't changePeople Don't Change2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
But I'd prove it's not true
Because I would change
And do it for you
You said people don't change
And maybe that's true
Cause the one who's not changed
Surely is you
HIS Chemical RomanceHe struts on stageHIS Chemical Romance6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You can't stop him now.
He's never alone
With the roar of this crowd.
With his band by his side
And a message to bring,
A band to save your life
Who knew this boy could sing?
He is a contrast with himself
Of only a few short year ago
Where he'd drink himself to sleep
And let the intoxication flow.
Addiction tore holes in his life
And he was going to take the rest
Depressions best friend almost
Silenced the beat in his chest.
Sweat, tears and vomit,
All strewn out on the floor
This was it, his very last drink,
He couldn't take it anymore
Now the vampires no longer bite
And the night no longer stings
Fist in the air he'll continue to fight
Can you hear the triumph in the words he sings?
Clean and sober
The OTHER light at the end
Walking, dancing, parading truth
That even the most broken can mend.
Those deep, dark circles
perhaps Permanently stain his eyes
But from each and every fall,
You know again he will rise.
Back on stage, hear them play tonight
The sink holes of
OXYMORONDownside up inverted by upside downOXYMORON1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Despicably good awakened by sleep
Eating to be eaten while crying to laugh
The impossible possibility of moving to stop
Senseless sensibility pricing the priceless
Fearing the fearful who grow decay
The hateful joy of Fire that freezes
A noisy silence in the darkness of light
Of loud whispers and blinding vision
The living die while the dying live
Deserving the underserved pointless point
An Infinite claustrophobia of the vastly small
Nothing became personified by something
PERCEPTIONIn victory there is defeatPERCEPTION1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In joy there is sorrow
In perfection there is imperfection
In love there is hate
In wisdom there is stupidity
Everything is measured against the other
Within the confines of perception
Right becomes wrong
Dark becomes light
The limitless becomes limited
In the compounded vision
Reality gives birth to ignorance
Experience gives way to speculation
The known becomes unknown
In the great irony of things
The free become shackled
Truth becomes illusion
Such is the plight of the spirit.
SEARCHING FOR A MOMENTThe eyes that speak a thousand wordsSEARCHING FOR A MOMENT11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gazing with the eloquence of serenity
Focused on none but seeing the all
Staring into each beating heart
The calm stillness of the moment
Like an endless unbroken wave
The cherished minutes flow by
All too quickly fading into memory
To sit and gaze one last time
A single glimpse of that poetry
Is it so much to ask?
Such has been the hardship
Now just a distant memory
The lonely hours wither away
Everything seems like nothing
This sad longing endures
Searching for that vision
The eyes that speak a thousand words
WORDLESS WORDSThe writer attempts to writeWORDLESS WORDS1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Describing the indescribable
Limiting the limitless
Naming the nameless
A thousand lines of ink
Written a thousand ways
Cannot describe love
The abstract emptiness
The beauty of colour
The sorrow of loneliness
Burn every book
Destroy every line
An alphabet of ashes
Meaningless is knowledge
Worthless are words
Reading what is written
In ignorance remain
The subtle reality
Beyond all language
KNOWING THE UNKNOWNIn thinking they thinkKNOWING THE UNKNOWN1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The circle of uncertainty.
In knowing they know
The nameless name.
In believing they believe
The confused reflection.
In seeing they see
The veil unveiled.
To think is intellectual
To believe is faith
To see is enlightenment
To know is divine
-Living With MJ_Outtake Skits-From the twisted mind of Janie, I present to thee, CUT SCENES FROM "LIVING WITH MICHAEL JACKSON"!:-Living With MJ_Outtake Skits-5 years ago in Humor More Like This
(During scene of Neverland with lots of other kids. Michael and Martin are getting into the train)
Michael: C'mon, Martin, it'll be fun!
Martin: All right. *gets in, looks round at all the kiddies*
Michael: *hops down on seat, pats seat next to him* Sit here.
Martin: Oh, saved a seat for me? You're a very kind man. *slooooowly sits down. At just the right moment, Michael slips a whoopee cushion underneath Martin as he sits*
Martin: Hey, thanks a--
Kids: EEW!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAA
Michael: *fanning air* EEEWWWW!! MARTEEEEN! UGH!!!! *trying to hold back laughter* Aww, man!
Martin: WOT!? I didn't do anything!!! *picks up whoopee cushion*
*one girl comes up*
Girl: I thought we called *HIM* Smelly.. *points to Michael*
Michael: *hides face, slightly embarrassed, cr
A LIVING DREAMWhat is life? And pray tell what is death?A LIVING DREAM1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What is the mystery confounded and subtle?
Is it like the wind blowing on a withered arm?
Or a veritable prison for the promethean heart?
Empty hopes shackled by faithless nooses
A mercurial mind conditioned by miasmic hues
This veil cannot be of beauty born
Fading with the faintest of winds
Of Knowledge they loudly speak
The rains of time quickly drown it
Where then is there any comfort
Living in the recesses of a shadow
If life is but a razors edge
Then death is but a withered arm
The vision of a darkened dream
Asleep to reality, awake to delusion
3.14The boy sat on the edge of the wooden pier shivering as the ocean that once hugged him tightly dripped off his body in disgust, leaving only a thin layer of green sludge between his skin and the crisp air around him. The smell of dead fish rose out of the ocean grave and wrapped around him until his nose could no longer smell it at all. As the sun left the hazy blue sky, he watched the boisterous boats tread further into the ocean until they were eaten whole by the horizon. His stomach bubbled, gurgling as if to imitate a toddler drowning.3.142 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“You. Your shift’s been outta here for an hour,” a man, dressed in rubber rain clothes and black boots said. “We don’t pay ya to loiter after your deed is done.”
“You don’t pay me at all,” Pi mumbled, directing his eyes away from the murky green water and towards the man’s agitated eyes. “What? You don’t.”
“I pay ya plenty,” the man sneered, “for a rat-bo
England x Reader - Best Ways to ComfortEngland x Reader – Best Ways to ComfortEngland x Reader - Best Ways to Comfort2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Arthur jumped as he heard that shriek, followed almost immediately by a loud thump and a crash. He jumped up, flinging the book in his lap onto the floor and spilling his hot tea he had been taking a sip of into his lap in the process. The cup clattered to the floor as he leapt around in circles swearing for a moment, trying to distract himself from the burning. As soon it was slightly more bearable, Arthur ran towards where the sounds had been coming from.
His footsteps thumped on the wooden flooring of the old cabin as Arthur tore up the stairs and ran down the hallway, heading for the bedroom. He flung open the door to find (f/n) lying face down on the floor. Her torso was flat on the floor, while from the hips below she was on her side. Her hair flowed from her head in a messy and wavy pool, and her arms lay on the ground in positions that made her look like she was trying to claw tracks into the wood. For all Art
wade liberation warwade liberation war1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Boy was about nineteen. A young man really, but his face made him look younger. Girl was younger, maybe fifteen, sixteen. Peter Bowen thought as he kept his distance considering the situation, studying the several people involved.
City of wade was under Arenian occupation for over three centuries now, and Arenian trackers seeking out mages to be drafted to their military force was hardly an unusual event. Most people who were learned in spellcasting kept their skills hidden, and their weapons were creatively concealed.
Still give it enough time and any trickery will stand revealed. Trackers were by now very skilled in noticing anything with engraved spellcasting spiral. A ring, a stick, the smallest of things. They knew what they were looking for.
This was what baffled peter as he studied the unfolding situation. Boy was blatantly wearing two short swords with the casting spiral boldly and prominently visible on their handles. Either he was a fool, of a foreigner who decide
THE EMPTY CUPSo close but so far awayTHE EMPTY CUP10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Detached but chained
Always but never
The with that is without
What is a lover without a beloved?
A candle without a wick
A melody unheard
Life that is death
Looking from afar
Beauty that is veiled
A bright star dim
The great mountain small
Standing to be near
The untaken hand
Asking to be found
Lost and forgotten
Blank is the canvas
Empty is the cup
Sentenced to live this way
Nothing to See (Being Revised)I wouldn't have taken any notice if it hadn't been for the laughter. It wasn't merry or even cruel. It was the barbarous laughter of evil and vicious darkness and it chilled the marrow of my bones. Turning my head to look down the dim alley, I saw them: a semi-circle of four men focusing on their entertainment for the evening—namely, a fifth fellow and what I assumed was merely a cheap piece, some drugged up doxy earning a wage for her next fix.Nothing to See (Being Revised)3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Oh God, how I wish she had been a whore. Some pathetic moll who let herself be roughed up and down for a few bucks, but this was no whore. I wasn't innocent; I'd seen plenty of cocottes and the looks in their eyes that craved money or men or both and I'd witnessed the haunting desperation for something better, along with a resignation to what they had. This woman—so very young—this wasn't a two-bit cyprian, down on her luck, trying to make a dollar and feed a habit.
Bruises marred her
-MJ Court Skits 2004- SEASON 1-MJ Court Skits 2004-5 years ago in Humor More Like This
Well, guys, it was about time for another parody!! In light of the current situation, you gotta well, MAKE light out of it. I figure I'll start first.
So here ya go, straight from my whacked mind to your eyes for the displeasure of reading, the sequel to the Living With Michael Jackson scenes...... this is OUR courtroom now, Smelldon!!!
The people are REAL. The cases are REAL. Soda is $1.50.
(Courtroom scene. The jury is composed of various MJ fans, non-fans, and plain weirdos. The judge stand is empty.)
Jury member #1 [Jan]: *sips soda*
Jury member #2 [Sez]: Yo, dude. That soda is a dollar a pop, bring that over here.
Jan: No way!
Sez: *Vincent Price voice* You give it to meeee...
Jury member #3 [Dana]: You guys, stop it. .... THAT SODA'S MINE!
Decisions are FINAL. THIS is JUDGING JACKSON.
With an ALL-STAR cast of (in crap-abetical order).....:
AmericaxReader- When the Angels Raise their Voices"Amazing Grace. How sweet the sound," you move your lips to the sorrowful strains of the song, no sound escaping your lips. "That saved a wretch like me." Tears fill your eyes.AmericaxReader- When the Angels Raise their Voices2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'This is wrong.' You think, your mind flashing back….
"Oh, say! Can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming;
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight!" sang a bawdy voice from outside the sick tents. You rose from your kneeling position by one of the cots and marched outside.
"For heaven's sake, what's all this racket?!" You demanded of the singer.
"I am just encouraging my men, ma'am." The figure grinned at you, blue eyes twinkling. He attempted to smooth down the ridiculous cowlick in his light brown hair. "I was just thinkin' that maybe my amazing voice might encourage them to get out of bed and back on the battlefield."
"These men are ill, sir. They need rest, not encouragement."
"You mean it should be quiet when they die." He st
Canada x Reader - Memory Loss Ch. 1You could hear your own futile attempts to breath, every gasp made your chest hurt. You didn't know what happened at all, your mind was a fuss as if a static noise played through it endlessly. All you remembered was that something hit you, very hard. And the next thing you knew, you felt like this. You tried to breath once more, another thick sting of pain shot through your chest as you did.Canada x Reader - Memory Loss Ch. 12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
But there was something you heard that cut through the noise in your head, a voice. Someone was calling you, it caused your eyes to snap open. There was a blur before your eyes, it slowly turned into a visible image of a young man. Your eyes quickly scanned the surroundings. Apparently you were lying on the middle of the streets, and a car had crashed into a wall a little further ahead. There was the sound of people talking rapidly and making attempts to figure out if the car's driver was alive. Some others were seemingly helping you with something, but what?
Only then did you realize that you were
The White Parade: I of VIChapter I: The Patient(s)The White Parade: I of VI8 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
They call him The Patient.
No one is really sure what his real name is, save the doctors and nurses who treat him, I guess—but really, what sort of shitty general nickname is “The Patient” in a place like this? This hospital is full of patients—most of them running out of patience for their diseases and the treatments that are supposed to help them. But somehow… It doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, or who is talking to you; say “The Patient” with the right amount of inflection and people automatically know. It doesn’t matter how they know—they just do.
It isn’t that he’s remarkable in any way. He’s tall, thin—the thinness in him probably more from his treatments than his diet or lack thereof. His hair is so blonde that in some lights people must think that it’s white, or that he doesn’t have any. There is the possibility that some
Otherwise Good ConditionI have worn the same dressOtherwise Good Condition1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
for four days, because
I am sick, exquisitely
black and gold, your drunk
dimestore Nefertiti. A
white stain announces
itself, a muddy star:
here. Undo yourself,
those sallow words you drink,
let the silk fall loose. I've got
a face like dirty laundry
and burial grounds --
What I touch becomes
unwell. I wear my hair
like it pains me,
like a little girl
sucking her teeth
at cars, the caked little
tombs of sugar that crumble,
under the hot milk
of the sun.
Archery.Gerard Way's just a bit violent. That's why he likes playing croquet. He imagines all those little balls are his classmates, and the wickets are rings of fire that smother his peers when they pass.Archery.3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
So, he doesn't miss the chance to sign up for the newest class their private school offersArchery.
He knows he won't be that good at it, but it'll be fun to think about shooting sharp arrows into targets or his classmates.
The only problem is that he doesn't want to sign up by himself. That'll just make him a weirdo.
So, after the final bell rings, he walks out his Biology classroom and heads over to his friend's locker, knowing he'll be stuck in there.
Gerard has to kick at the white piece of shit before it opens, and it reveals his short friend sitting at the bottom of it, his phone in his lap as he taps away. Gerard hears him munching, and he suspects it's the bag of chips he hadn't eaten at lunch.
Gerard lightly knocks on the locker door. His friend doesn't raise his head. "Frank,
In the SketchbooksI love in you the sketchbooksIn the Sketchbooks5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before they praised you in the galleries
They see your aesthetics
Your one image
Your final performance
Your first impressions
I witnessed your growth
The troubles you've surpassed
Your layers of skins
A more vivid dimension than the last
Step by step
I was there
They talk about your name
The way you present yourself
They see you
Trapped in base molding
And guilded gold
I felt every brush stroke
The pencil lines
And every imperfection
Hidden in the redos
They see you
As a canvas
I see you
As a story
Simply repeating itself
Over and over again
For the eyes
Of these bypassers
Caged in prescheduled visits
And blank wallpaper
I make the windows
For you to sing in
You keep them occupied
As they query on your window sill
Because I felt
You to be here
Can't you appreciate
What I've done?
Building your panes
While I suffer with mine
Nowhere for me here
Time for me to move
To another canvas
To another p
HopeHope is what keeps the heart beating and aliveHope3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hope reminds you you will survive
Hope is what we clutch to in the hardest of times
Hope reminds you things will be fine
Hope is what will take away and ease your every fear
Hope is what will wipe away your one and every tear
Hope is what will take away your pain and every strife
Hope is what will guide your way through the path of life
aimlessI know there is a sea of words in my mindaimless2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and if I can be the moon and pull their tide in the most exquisite way,
I can make hearts ache with the beauty.
But I'm so aimless, for a moon,
and my sea of words won't ebb and flow
Having no limits means nothing without direction
and I've lost mine.