GrandmaGrandma – 01.08.1928 – 07.09.2012Grandma2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Death is a gardener, you told me when I was a child.
He has a field full of dandelions, and when one loses its halo, he reaps it.
Then the seeds fly away to heaven and become stars.
Thatīs why we cannot count them.
I know that is not what you believed.
I always knew, because you had told me about God and Paradise.
But I believed,
And somehow I still do.
You always liked the colour yellow, as much as you loved the sun.
You would have loved to become a dandelion.
They do have a halo, I have checked it.
You can see it at sunset.
We often made stars when I was small, you and I.
We went for walks, picking up dandelions and blowing their seeds away.
I have made a lot of stars since you were gone.
At least Iīve tried.
Because I know that it needs no dandelion for you to become
The brightest star in my sky.
The CrowThe CrowThe Crow2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A crow as black as Death himself
Sat down on the tree before my room.
Its shadow fell onto my shelf,
Its eyes were filled with a strange gloom.
The Moon kissed its feathers, coloured them blue,
The most beautiful colour I did ever see.
I asked the creature: “Is it true?
Are you going to fly away with me?”
The crow spoke to me: “Do not fear,
I´ll never do you any harm.
Every whisper, every tear,
I´ll turn into feathers to keep you warm.
Do you remember? I am your Prince
Who´s life was taken at the Priest´s Amen.
I´ve been waiting, Princess, that day since
To take you in my arms again.”
And so I embraced him and we left,
Only the stars listened as we sang.
In the morning they discovered the theft,
And as some days later the churchbells rang,
Two crows were sitting on the tree,
Observing the mourners from above.
On the tombstone they read: “Let her be
Together forever with her love.”
Beauty + the Beast Pt II Ep 9Beauty + the Beast Pt II Ep 93 years ago in Drama More Like This
EXT. THE TOP OF THE CASTLE'S HIGHEST TOWER -- NIGHT
Outside the towers door, Fifi and Angelique can only stare into the darkness after the Creature as it escapes. They hear Bastien coming and turn toward the door. Bastien, carrying a torch, looks out at them and hurries out to them.
Ladies! What happened here? Where's Marcel?
(gesturing weakly out over the ledge)
Well... Master.. He..
That was him-
That was HIM we saw leap after the Monster!
Yes Master. We saw him catch the edge of the cabin and climb in...
She notices Bastien staring after the Monster in horror.
Bastien turns his head suddenly toward Fifi at the sound of her voice.
Yes! Yes, w-w-we must go af-after them.
Bastien turns to go.
There is more..
(Struggling to find the right words)
(Angry. Looks very much li
The love of a parentShe looked out among the starry sky and let out a sigh. Applejack was resting her hooves on the windowsill of her bedroom, enjoying the evening. It had been a very busy day with the reunion and all, and admittedly there had been a few bumps along the way. But through it all, she and her family had come together to make the whole thing a truly memorable experience. While things may not have turned out the way she planned, she was still grateful that the whole thing didn't end up a complete mess like she feared it would.The love of a parent2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Looking up, she saw two shooting starts trail along the night sky, much like they had done some hours ago. The sight of them made her smile, as they always did. She closed the window and moved towards her bed, ready to get some well-deserved rest. Building a barn in one day can certainly take it out of a pony. But before she reached it, she turned as she heard a knocking on her door.
"Come in." She said.
The old door creaked open, and there, standing on the other side, w
The GardenerThe huge black Cathedral rose before me, covering parts of the gloomy reddish sky with its silhouette. It was silent; the only thing around me I could hear was the wind, which seemed to come out of nowhere. It was incredibly hot, and yet I was shivering.The Gardener1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I looked around me; the landscape surrounding the solitary church resembled an area that had been burned down to the ground. Hardly any vegetation was to be found; no animal sounds were audible. The place was clearly not an inviting one, and yet I did not feel any fear.
I turned around, leaving the church behind me, and in the distance I could see some kind of light emanating from a place I could neither name nor see. The wind became stronger and filled the air with lung-scratching dust, and I decided to seek shelter inside of the Cathedral.
It was surprisingly warm inside, unlike in some of those churches in which you instantly feel cold the minute you enter them on a hot day. It was dark; the only light source was a myriad of candles
Diamond In The Rough.Long hair and deep brown eyes so sad but full of hopeDiamond In The Rough.6 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Walks over to his side and hands him a love note
Then he points and laughs at her for the feelings she confessed
She feels emptiness as a heartbeat in her chest
At home she’ll water down her pain with broken pride
Trying to fix the girl who fell apart inside
Long hair and deep brown eyes so sad and full of tears
She’s not that different, but can’t fit in with her peers
They all have their looks and brand name clothes
Just because she doesn’t, she’s the girl nobody knows
And this goes out to her; I just hope that it’s enough
To let her know I see the diamond hidden in the rough
From Where the Sun Does Rise“Ellie,” I say, “I can’t do this.”From Where the Sun Does Rise1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She tugs my arm. “Please, Blithe, please. I can’t anymore. I can’t.”
Her left leg has found its way out from beneath the bedding, and the smells of decaying flesh consume the air in the room. The gangrene has taken every toe. It slowly works its way up her foot. Some of the blisters have reopened, staining the sheet with viscous fluid.
Ellie moans. “I can’t,” she starts. “I can’t, I can’t.”
Killing is difficult. Watching a loved one suffer is killing. It is a slow go. Wondering how the singularity will arrive, waiting for it to arrive, is unbearable. Every muscle in the body contains a memory of time spent with that person. Open wounds.
With Ellie, it is no different. As I sit beside her now, letting her squeeze my hand, all I have are memories. It has been a wonderful life in spite of all the hard things we have to endure here, at the end.
What Can You Buy At The 99 Cent Store?Pregnancy tests and expired milkWhat Can You Buy At The 99 Cent Store?5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Peaches bruised green and mold soft as silk
Coloring books and barbecue coals,
Rings that turn green and condoms with holes
Canned ravioli and canned brussel sprouts
Children who whine and parents who shout
Toys with no off switch, bought with regret
Chipped paint laced with traces of lead
The Mother Mary in clay, ceramic and ink
Dreams that run dry, rubber duckies that sink
Photo albums for memories imprinted behind us,
Cotton American flags manufactured in China
Panties in the bathroom and bugs in the walls,
Brown itchy teddy bears and unblinking dolls,
Deals of 59 cents for two flannel left socks
Ant-infested headphones cracked in the box
A handbag that's Gucci, but spelled with a "y"
So many cheap goods and lost pride here to buy
MeatingI was running out of things to say, and still he was looking at me with his hungry eyes.Meating10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“You definitely don’t want to eat me” I repeated for the hundredth time “I’m bitter, sour, dirty, and positively tasteless.”
The wolf had a small laugh.
“My human friend” he said – and I found it extremely unpleasant to be called thus by the same individual who was about to sink his sharp, pointy white fangs in my thigh – “you all pretend the same, but I’ve never tasted a disgusting sample of your kind.”
“Well, maybe that fat little boy that I ate once. It was a horrible meal indeed.”
I looked at myself in desperation. I definitely was not fat.
“But I’m so bony” I said. “There is nothing for you to eat.”
“No worries about that, I like my meat lean.”
“But we don’t eat wolves – you shouldn’t eat us.”
“What does that have t
Another Lonely PoemAnother Lonely PoemAnother Lonely Poem1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She makes you happy
I make you cry,
I’m half as lovely,
She doesn’t even try.
But you say I’m beautiful
I shake my head when you lie,
Why am I this pitiful?
Why can’t I just say goodbye?
She wipes your tears,
I do only your sweat,
I gave you fears,
And too much regret.
But you say I’m worth it,
Tears fell when you smiled,
You loved me and you said it
I felt just like a child.
She gave you what I can’t,
I give you only thoughts,
I do know what you want,
Yet she’s the one who bought.
But you say I have something
That your lady doesn’t have,
You say you need that one thing,
You need my humble love.
She loves you truly,
I give you only strife,
I love you, though not surely,
She’d love you all her life.
What do I have against that?
What can I offer you, my friend?
I can’t give what I ain’t got
But I’ll be here until the end.
She’s too perfect
I’m too stupid
In every aspect,
As Royalty Braids My HairMy mother dearest,As Royalty Braids My Hair7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the ice queen chiseled from perfection,
Long legs, long nose, short hair, and golden cheeks
Stroking my hair
through the fog of incense and her ashen cigarette
Slender fingers twisting
my knots and tangles into obedient braids,
Arabic words litter the air
flowing from her ruby lips
to the desperate cackles rupturing from the bellies
of my toothless grandmothers
Red mouth smiling, but her eyes scream
Trapped between my birth and my marriage
Her lovingly cold reign halted to tame my mane
over a candlelit quilt and a roasted lamb
1Samuel 3:5I heard His voice from o so far1Samuel 3:510 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
from where I slept He bid me come
I rose from bed and beckoned "Lord...wherefore art Thou?Thy voice is calling me..."
The voice from which the Heavens sound
echoed upon the earthly grounds
the light above the stars ablaze
the Lord God standeth before me I knelt prostrate
my face is stained with sin and filth
of which is far from God's righteousness
I am unworthy to stand before Him...let alone gaze at His holy face
Then I felt a warmth...a hand
took mine own and made me stand
He said "Do not be afraid...daughter...flesh of woman and man
be not afraid to stand..."
His voice sounded like a distant thunder which echoed of a prophetic rain...
I shivered at the prospect of
standing before the Man whose hands had maketh me from the womb of a mother
whose will had wrought an iron will
to make me ...a mortal...what is His will....for me?
He stood right there and said
"Look child...I call thee now, discern long and hard
art thou made for this?...Search thy heart
How To Be A WriterMy parents said I shouldn't be a writer,How To Be A Writer1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
and throughout the last few weeks
of scarcely sprawling stray thoughts
on the napkins that line my trash bin,
I'm inclined to believe them.
Without a medical degree folded in my back pocket,
my wallet's looking a lot thinner;
I'm left with an abused and worn vocabulary
sagging on the edge of its seat,
stinking of whatever poison-laced shock value
I inject into my phrases,
and festering in the melodrama
of a teenage conspiracy theorist's soul.
(It smells kinda like rebellion, miniskirts, black nails, and rolling eyes.)
I hate to be the cliche of a struggling artist,
But a cliche is better than a nobody, or so I've read;
So at least it's something to hold on to.
My notebook is growing blanker by the sunrise,
and with every passing week,
my head falls on a layer of bills
instead of silk-lined sheets.
My pen's ink has started to boil and rot
on the other side of my writer's block,
and though my thin career is a hard pillow to accept,
even harder wou
I Regret You Like A KissRegret is a finicky thing.I Regret You Like A Kiss2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Somethings you can flick off
like autumn burnt leaves
But others stick to you
like the stench of vanilla
or a dandelion kiss.
Best not take any chances.
Who I am in ChristI am accepted by Christ. "Christ accepted you so you should accept each other, which will bring glory to God." Romans 15:7Who I am in Christ10 months ago in Profiles More Like This
God loves me and has chosen me. "God loves you and we know he has chosen you." 1 Thessalonians 1:4
I am a child of God. "But all who did accept him and believe in him he gave the right to become children of God." John 1:12
As a Child of God, I am an heir with Christ. "If we are God's children, we will receive blessings from God together with Christ. But we must suffer as Christ suffered so that we will have glory as Christ has glory." Romans 8:17
I am a friend of Jesus. "I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know what his master is doing. But I call you friends because I have made know to you everything I have heard from my Father." John 15:15
"If anyone belongs to Christ, there is a new creation. The old things have gone; everything is made new!" 2 Corinthians 5:17
I am no longer a slave but a child of an heir. "So now you are not a slave; you
The Turning Point is TodayWhen you think life has gotten better,The Turning Point is Today2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And then the time comes, where it’s now bitter.
You can’t decide what to do,
Whether or not you should stay and wait it through.
It piles on and on until you’ve been crushed,
Letting no one hear your screams because you’ve been hushed.
So, you wait there, waiting this through,
Then deciding what you should now do.
You cry and cry until you become numb,
And time continues to tick by, waiting for something else that you can become.
What you don’t know is that things can be changed;
Everything can change without having to be exchanged.
Giving up an arm or a leg is not necessary;
Sacrificing who you are is completely unnecessary.
The lives you see others obtain
Can be yours, too, without any of the pain,
But you have to step up and show that you can
And not just by necessarily making a plan.
Gather the materials that are important
And cast out what are unimportant.
Destroy and re-build with same, old, used tools.
If Shakespeare Had a Facebook PageIf Shakespeare had a Facebook pageIf Shakespeare Had a Facebook Page6 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Would he “Like for Jesus” or “Ignore for Hell”?
How many likes would his sonnets catch,
And would “Macbeth” be received well?
Would the rose smell just as sweet
if no one read it in a tweet?
And would he come up with the truth after a year,
that “Hell is empty and the devils are here”?
Would he whore for likes and friend requests?
Share his results for every personality test?
And post a “Teen Quote” for every day?
Would he be caught up with his anime?
Do you think he'd enjoy RoosterTeeth's channel,
Post selfies in snapbacks and Nike’s and flanel?
Would his pants sag and his status read:
“#Yolo420, Legalize Weed?”
Maybe he'd dye his hair green and spike up the ends
Maybe him and Mark Twain would be #Bestfriends.
Would this 90's kids generation steal the show,
Or would he be the same Bill we used to know?
bless me father.bless me father for i have sinned. it’s all in your head.bless me father.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
your beautiful, beautiful head.
all your evil is bursting & blooming & coming to life.
everything ugly inside has decided to smile a wicked smile.
oh lord in heaven, wreck me.
Imitating NatureThe morning sun streamed through a series of large plate glass windows lining the library's east wall, its rays warming the room's wooden paneling and illuminating the cavernous space. Tall bookshelves stuffed with literature from across the world towered over polished oak reading tables, each furnished with a plain, green-shaded banker's lamp. On the far side, a massive painting gracing the west wall depicted the solemn face of Saint Patrick, whose protective presence could be felt watching over the library's sole visitor.Imitating Nature2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
All was perfectly quiet, save for a tap, tap, tapping that echoed in the otherwise silent room. Seated at a desk near the door, glued to the screen of his laptop, Eoghan quietly tapped his pen against the notepad in his lap as his eyes scanned through the different news reports.
Another roadside bomb outside of Kandahar, three dead, all soldiers. God frowns upon careless mistakes gentlemen. You should have noticed the dead dog along the side of the road.
This is my story LifeThis is my story2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Doesn't go as planned, does it?
You dreamt of a life,
But you will never reach it.
You always wanted to be an hero
Well, too bad, that won't work out either.
You'll dream of the life you always wanted,
But when you wake up,
Reality smackes you in the face.
Get up, go to your work or school, come home, work and sleep.
That will be your life until you die.
A never ending cyclus.
Try chasing your dreams.
One day you'll might catch them.
But what if that dream scattered?
Believe in the stories you know,
And keep them close.
What if... it's all a dream?
Maybe everything we believe in is a dream.
Or a lie.
No one knows
Never let your dreams go.
Always have them close with you.
You might catch them one day.
And do what you always wanted to do.
I love you
I'm Just A PoetI'm just a poetI'm Just A Poet1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Stringing together words
In a way that tries to force you to feel,
To understand what I feel.
I'm just a manipulator
Gaining recognition by
Warping what you understand
Trying to change your emotions
Till they fit my own.
I'm just an instigator
Using my words
To try and lead you along a path
That was created in anger
And fueling your passion to follow it
Until you can't even remember
Why you followed this way.
I'm just an interpreter
Translating your feelings into words
While ignoring the very fact
That in doing so
I'm ruining the very thing
That made these feelings so powerful
But I don't care
I'm just a recorder
Writing the pain of a person,
Of a entire nation
With a few measily words
While deluding myself
That this actually helps someone,
That writing the same pain
In a different way actually
Makes anything less painful.
Priding myself that my words
May one day move people
To change the world
When all they actually do
Is garner a few mo
You are YouHello.You are You4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who am I?
That doesn't matter.
I'm just a person.
You don't know me.
You don't know my hair color
Or my eye color.
You don't know my skin color
Or my ethnicity.
You don't know anything about me.
I could have pink hair
And yellow eyes,
But I would still be me.
I might be dark skinned,
Or I could be light skinned,
Or I could be in between.
I could be younger than you
And I could be older.
But that doesn't matter.
Maybe I'm short,
And maybe I'm tall,
Or maybe I'm neither.
I could be American,
Or maybe Indonesian.
I guess what I'm getting at
Is that it doesn't matter
What a person looks like.
It shouldn't matter their race
If I were old
I would still be me.
It doesn't matter whether
I'm a boy
Or a girl.
It doesn't matter if I'm straight
If you dislike me
For my personality,
That's one thing.
But to hate someone
for their appearance
So I'm writing this
for all of you outcasts
because someone needs
Night Chaser02:37am 22nd July - depart from London by commercial jet, business class.Night Chaser2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
00:53am 22nd July - arrive in New York an acceptable 7 minutes behind schedule.
Slaying an archangel is hard work. It takes a great deal of study, picking your mark, separating fact from legend, learning your target's tells and vulnerabilities. Even if you succeed, and when I tore Gabriel's crystal heart from his open chest I became one of the precious few who have, there is still the matter of retribution. Angels never forget the death of one of their own, and a legion of these creatures now wait to descend and deliver their vengeance. My only sanctuary is the night. Angels can only exist in light of the sun and as such I owe my continued existence to the wonders of modern technology, which is capable of sending man half way around the globe faster than the approach of the morning sunrise.
I chase the night. Or at least I chase the processed luminance of airports and rail terminals.
I've got an hour and