The last riddle I ever tellKnock, Knock.The last riddle I ever tell2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
SyriaA never seen tear on the children cheekSyria1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The little hand has given up to wipe it away
There were all to many
Now the little bloodstained hand has to pull a trigger
Now the little eye has to close
Cause the little nose has smelled poison
A mother sits at the roadside
Crying her soul off
Blindly throwing stones on someone...
...On someone hopeless with a gun
On which side is he?
Doesn't matter, he is afraid and shoots her down
We are a thousand miles away
We hear her dying pulse
We talk, just talk and talk
To save our conscience
To pretend it would help
To let time pass till it's over
The man sees both lying there
The man takes his gun
And his anger grows in hate and despair
The man is twelve year young
He will be shot the next day
While we are talking
His mother will be in a blue funk
We don't care, we are to busy in talking.
But I do care!
Final WordsReally, must I do everything myself?Final Words2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
LebanonI could see the tree topsLebanon8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
from my apartment
I can see the Deka shop
from my memories
None of them are there
All gone but no-one cares
The rubble looked new
excuses broke many hearts
All this for soldiers two?
excuses broke many bones
The airport burned nicely
were they proud?
All of it smells bloody
were they careful?
Ruins all ruined
Oceans all blue, and
Korneish broken down
no skating today
All in some other town
there is no aid
The hummus has dried
no one has returned
The children have cried
no one has comforted
but nobody cares
It's a pity
"Rasta chick!""Rasta chick!""Rasta chick!"3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I've chosen to wear my hair this way
but strangers tend to put me in a box
of getting down and getting high
one more teen with blurry eyes shoutin' about
"Jah love for InI."
Yes I have dreadlocks,
I like reggae, and I like Jah,
but see to me it's just hair and music
and another name for the same God
worshiped by Jews, Muslims, and Christians
part of Abrahamic tradition
this religion now mostly appropriated
by youth as an excuse
to smoke pot.
Which is not my style,
because if you think about it it's like chanting "Baruch atah Adonai"
in order to eat latkes,
or thinking that a love of lamb dinner is cause
to become Greek Orthodox.
But last I checked faith wasn't a product of your tastebuds
and a taste for bud wasn't a mandate for conversion
and I can state for a fact
that not combing your hair is possible without drugs.
It just takes a little courage
to be fourteen and say, "I can be who I am
without hiding behind some cultural precedent I
closerTell me about you, and I'llcloser1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fill up these thin pages with
Hastily scrawled ink lines.
Tell me about your childhood;
It must be, certainly,
More interesting than anything
I could write on my own.
Tell me about your thoughts,
Your secrets, your fears,
And release a small piece of
You that's seldom seen.
Maybe then we'll become
Closer, but I can't
Say for sure.
Last Breaththey said there'd be lightLast Breath1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
set me on firethis feels like aset me on fire1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
though I know it’s
only a beginning;
like dead leaves
floating to the ground,
only to appear,
at the beginning of
a new season.
and sometimes I can’t
keep my eyes off your face,
but other times I’m afraid
to look, in case
you’ll see how happy
I get around you.
the running manWhen I see you, all I see is after. Gravel upturned by that beige Chevy. Pavement sun-baked and time-worn, like most Mississippi roads. You love the highways. You drive by, sunglasses and Miller Lite caps on a string, without noticing I'm headed in the opposite direction. I don't have time to regard the dust cloud because there's a cop idling nearby.the running man2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You've always been headed in the opposite direction.
When I was fifteen I didn't understand. Couldn't have. You can't read another language until you learn the right words, wrap your brain around the meaning of those foreign sounds and inflections. I couldn't read you because I didn't want to. It was easier to be angry and ignorant. It's always easier.
Five years later - five years of investigation, of difficult questions and even more difficult answers - I know you better than I ever thought I could. It wasn't any effort on your part, of course. Not your style. For you, existence defines itself - you have no reason to justify your
They Know of Death?Look at him, smiling proud,They Know of Death?2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Holding aloft a soiled shroud.
He claims it to be of his father-
The grim dodger, lonely carver.
And she- the last, by yonder triangle,
With brothers and deceit entangle.
Upholder of the slave friend Isis,
Though helped by asp to untimely crisis.
Then the forgotten puny folk,
Who lead dark lives until they croak,
Ruled by paper; an unlikely foe,
For a century of joy and woe.
Surely they cannot know of death,
And the pathetic fatality of their breath?
How can their love and hope survive,
When every dream’s a constructed lie?
An empty plea to an abyssal plain,
With everything to lose but naught to gain.
Inspirational to we forever ones,
They servants to internal drums.
Haiku 13.01Dreams rerouted south,Haiku 13.011 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Along the coast of cold winds,
May they find you soon.
Content.I went searchingContent.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I ended up finding you
Song of First Snowfall (Draft 1)I fell in loveSong of First Snowfall (Draft 1)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the boy at the bus stop this morning
who dropped his gloves
on the sidewalk
to freeze his fists into side-of-the-road snow
and throw snowballs into the wind
just to watch them float away
as if he wants to contribute to the storm.
To be a part of it all.
I fell in love with him,
and I don’t know why.
All I know
is that the air is filled with music
and that this boy is the bassline.
And then he’s saying hello.
I think it must be to me;
no one else is around
but for the street and the snow and the sky.
But he’s yelling at the top of his lungs,
at the street the snow the sky
and I know that to him,
I’m not even there.
It’s to be a part of it all:
the whispering of wind,
the crunching of footsteps
and grumbling of cars.
It’s to be standing in the eye of the storm
to be clinging to its teeth and to say,
I am here.
He looks at me,
and this time I know it’s to me that he says,
The SketchHe loses his first kiss in autumn. He's twelve, she's just turned thirteen, and at the time he isn't sure what all the fuss is about but knows how special it is anyway.The Sketch2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She's gorgeous, pale-skin, brown hair, dark eyes always filled with happiness and joy the way he wishes he could be. She doesn't want to be there any more than he does, and they grouse to each other about how they don't need a 'special school.' It's the first time he's worked up the courage to say it.
She carries a book too, just like his sketchbook, but she says it's a diary. It's hung with a little lock on the front and he jokes about it being the key to her heart, a little boy's poor attempt at flirting but she laughs anyway. He wants to hear that laugh again, and he does, when he shyly asks if he can draw her.
It's half-way through his sketch that she leans in and presses her soft lips to his. It's a little clumsy and awkward, given how she's standing up and he's cross-legged on the ground, and nowhere as romantic l
The skeleton in my closetI hid the skeleton of the herald of the Almighty in my closetThe skeleton in my closet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I stacked the washed-out bones on the white oak shelves
and stuffed his message in empty pickle jars
The holy feathers I kept though
Someday I will weave them in a new crown
I hope the Lord won't be mad I didn't choose thorns
but I want a headdress that has never been worn
MummificationThey wrap themselves in age-thinned cottonMummification2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tightly now around the arms they hold together
In unified motion, one purpose for the first
Time in the unnatural seams
Cut first out the throat, placed just so.
She didn't want to scream now
For pride, perhaps, for the sound
Of one consenting tone she would never
Revoke - for the wish, the deep well she had worn
In the pit of her soles where death had danced,
In the meadow, in the crunch of stag collisions
And leather boots, hands held staid - fingers then limp
In their arms, the facile mechanics of what
She had no sense to fear.
It was the last time she saw
The lambent bile that had been taken
Up through the veins into her bloody eyes -
The sign of the woman her father bespoke,
Clad then in childish gathers and stitches not
Hidden from the damp, weary less of the licks and stings,
And of a cloying cry-set vanquished as she was held -
Up to the chest and down through the nostrils
They looked to see their queen shed skin and grow
A cadaver's s
The Heterophobic"I'm not gay," said his boyfriend.The Heterophobic2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
PandoraThe all-endowed, all-gifted, all-giving.Pandora9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A beautiful evil -- moulded from earth.
By Aphrodite’s grace, Hermes’ deceitful ways,
She spoke eloquent speech filled with lies and crafty reach.
Without evil intent, curiosity did force her hand.
As she brought burdensome toil, disease, sickness, and death to man.
roman 0crashed my car driving drunk for the iiird time this weekroman 02 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
held your faded photograph in one hand and fell asleep at the wheel
pretended It was vintage, that the warm sepia
coating your smile and the frame wasn’t
spilled coffee and cigarette ash.
reality isn’t always as bright
as my camera flash on your face.
put the high in highway at ii hundred miles per millisecond
eyes wide and red and hollow and hopeful
that a cop would come running after me.
ive been needing someone
to hold me down and tell me
“you’ve been a very bad boy”
like you used to.
Swallowed i too many pills this time
(i didn’t lie when i said i’d only take
as many as i needed to feel better).
you made me see stars
or maybe that was just the medicine?
how strange i think who could ever like someone
so discernibly sour?
Cabaret of FateHigh in the heavens a strange song plays,Cabaret of Fate3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One that grips reality in its iron fist.
It commands the celestial bodies to dance,
It demands the minute imps of nature to jig,
It conducts with cold-hearted calculation.
Jupiter pirouettes across the dark curtained ballroom,
As Helios sits proud displaying his majesty.
Venus circles the hall captivating all with her beauty,
Whilst mighty Neptune cavorts with Uranus,
And Mercury skips merrily to the tune.
Little do these party players know,
They are mere puppets to the melody,
As it swirls them round within the void.
Under the microscope lies a hidden carnival.
Nuclei argue over everything and nothing,
As rampant electrons buzz frantically around them,
Like drunken flies dazed by the light,
Their constant purr powering all.
But even here freedom is an illusion,
They too obey the secret law of the song,
The notes and chords echoing across the cosmos.
We are all caught inside this vast cabaret,
Night after night the same act.
Day after day the s
The extremely short storyI once heard the tale of a man who had the whole universe inside his throat.The extremely short story3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Was he a giant?" someone asked.
I thought for a second.
"No," I said. "He was a storyteller."