Fathers and DaughtersThe sun setting across the valley was a magnificent sight, bathing the land in gold and setting the sky on fire. Already people down there were setting up fires and playing music, another grand feast to celebrate the end of Innistrad's long night! "Avacyn has returned!" they cried, many already deep in their cups. "Humanity has prevailed!" they cheered, all of them happy to be alive. In the weeks since the archangel's return the human race had made a remarkable comeback against what, until then, had been almost certain doom. They were still intoxicated with it, and now that things had settled a bit they could indulge in their revelry properly. They had been doing so for days now.Fathers and Daughters3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Perched above them all at the top of the valley, arms behind his back, Sorin Markov wondered what they would all think if they knew he had created the angel they so praised. The thought amused him for a few seconds, but gradually it faded and he put it out of his mind. He found the fading light of the day much
Six WordsWe can fly, but we'll fall.Six Words8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
HastingsHastings4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On Senlac Hill, the grasses blow,
The forest hums with song;
Old Senlac Hill, by Hastings town
Gleams cold and all alone.
Here, the tramp and clink of maille rings,
Echoes 'cross the open meadow;
The clash and bite of iron sword,
And the spears are all a-splintering.
Here, the cloven helm, the whistling arrow,
Proud banners catch the breeze;
The baying horns still fill the dales
From a thousand years ago.
The gold-red drake of Wessex
Burns swathes of blood and fire,
His fiery tongue lays waste the ships
of the northern king, Hardrada.
The dark cold waters of Umber
Are blackened with smoldering reek
Stamford Bridge, soaks her feet in the scarlet
Of forsworn blood-brother's bones.
The battle won, the Norsemen defeated,
The Wessex dragon flies south on thund'ring wings.
As the proud crests of Normandy
Break upon its shores.
The stormy winds of autumn's breath
Abate before the towering spray
Slicing through the murm'ring Channel
Bow before the fleet invader's prows.
The whirlwind son of Go
Golden Ink and Going BackI thought I was in love with that four-year old red-haired boyGolden Ink and Going Back3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Shining in a silver knight costume with a black dragon sewn on
Because I was in the pink Sleeping Beauty Dress
I was a good Belle, too
(Back when I hadn't picked up a book
Except for the blue one with the golden pages
Brimming with witches and fairies and magic)
I wanted to be a princess, back then
They were the ones who always found love, at the end
I wanted to be Wendy, too
Because she wore a blue nightgown and learned to fly
Now, I'd rather be Peter Pan, honestly
Because he managed to swerve this whole ordeal of growing up
(And maybe a little because of the flying)
Now, I just want to go back
Back when the only kissing I thought about
Was in The Princess and the Frog
And the only houses I had to be weary of
Were houses made of candy
Back when the only disappointment
Was when my parents were too tired to read me a bedtime story
Or when I found out that the real Little Mermaid
Dies by Hans Christian Andersen's hand
GLACE: a yaoi romance 1GLACEGLACE: a yaoi romance 16 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
~A Yaoi Romance~
I sigh as I begin to unpack the box of canned food. I am already exhausted from my morning job; I deliver newspapers to local stores. After delivering the papers I check back in with the office, then I head home and take a shower, eat, then driver over to this grocery store. Once Im done here I have about a two hour break to rest. Later I head over to an office building where I work as a janitor.
I dont particularly enjoy any of these jobs, but they are all Ive got. Without them I would not be able to live on my own like I do. With these jobs I am able to buy my food, pay my rent and my odd number of bills. I can also feed my silky black cat, Shadow. I understand the jobs I do are needed parts of my life, without them I would not be as well off as I am. Ive been working since I was fourteen years old; at a grocery store, but not this one. When I was seventeen I moved out of my mothers house and moved out into my own little apartment
Runaway LoveLittle Lisa was only 9 years old, but to her it seemed her life was already a living hell. Her father left them when she was a baby, so for her entire life shes lived alone with her mother. When her father left, her mother took a big hit. She cut off all connections and bonds to their family and started doing drugs. Sure her mother was some-what happy when she was high, but after it wore off, she was always severely depressed. Eventually, her mother started to date again. It was always late at night when shed bring in a new man. They would hang out in the kitchen and joke around, but after a while they ended up in a fight. Lisa would always run to her room and hide in her closet, but that never helped the situation. Her mother would sometimes get knocked out one way or another and the man would take advantage. He would come up and try to have his way with her. She would cower back into the corner as far as she could, trying to avoid what she knew would come. Sometimes sheRunaway Love8 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The VasaThe Vasa6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A comedy of errors and Magnificent Disaster
The Vasa was a gunship
The finest in the fleet
A double row of cannons
Made it's forbears obsolete
But the master shipwright carked it
And the deadline must be met
And the king said make it mightier
Than any warship yet
So they built her tall and narrow
And they filled her up with guns
And they covered her in carvings
Lots of really scary ones
Then they launched her with much fanfare
Many dignitaries on board
But she didnt sit quite level
With her extra heavy load
And she hadnt gotten very far
When a breeze began to blow
And she tipped a little further
Till the gunports got too low
So with all the people watching
And with all her flags unfurled
The Vasa sank into the bay
And 25 were killed
And she sat there in the Baltic
In the silt beneath the bay
Till some history boffins found it
On a cold and windy day
So they told the modern Sw
AkuRoku - Another Life - Chap4---------------AkuRoku - Another Life - Chap48 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
What could I say? With him staring at me with those eyes that have haunted me for years. The way he smiled his knowing and slightly arrogant way. It was everything I'd been hoping for since I decided that I wouldn't be happy until I met my dream friend. I was jumping to tell him that yes! That was my name. I was Roxas, I'm the one he's had to have been looking for. I'm the one… I am….Just say the words… say the words and tell him exactly what he and I needed to hear.
"I don't know what you mean. I…. I don't know that name. My name's Corey. Not Roxas. Never known or met anyone by that name." My teeth found my bottom lip, the part of my mind that still denied my dreams had won victory over my ability to speak. I looked down the moment I noticed the happy gleam fade from those beautiful eyes.
"Oh… my…. my mistake then. I'm sorry Corey. You just kind of… remind me of someone really dear to me." His voice sounded so sad that I couldn't help but loo
WhitmanI am all that grows from meWhitman3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and all that grows from me is sacred—
my hair, dirty roots reaching towards sky,
fed by sky, shifted by its undulating currents
my fingers, spiders, crescents, twigs,
gaunt, blunt, probing, inquisitive...prurient
my ears, awkward conch shells jammed on as if by mistake,
rigid and ridged, elven,
innocent like unexplored caves for children to bound gaily into
resounding with echoed cheers of courage wanting
as if a dozen more children waited within, fearless guides;
my nose, obdurate.
The reach of my eyes knows no bounds;
what walls are there to throw my body against?
+Seven Songs - BL+His hands were calloused, though not rough. They were working hands, used often on the thick and thin strings of his acoustic guitar. Plucking and strumming, tightening and loosening. But they were never used in any manner other than gentle and thoughtful.+Seven Songs - BL+8 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Of course, only his guitar knew this. For any mortal eyes that ever lay a glance on the hands of Dominic would always think otherwise.
He spent his many days and nights in the attic of the ever-popular Café MalChick Lyubov. Playing his acoustic guitar (that he affectionately called Lucy), writing music, and relaxing. It was a quiet existence, filled with nothing but the peaceful sounds of silence and gentle music. Either sitting on the ledge of the only window in the cozy room, or sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor, he was always playing his guitar.
His cousin often asked him if he would ever play music for his café. But just the thought of being down there, in front of peoplestrangers, no lesssent an
Slow-Healing Scar(1/11/2014)Slow-Healing Scar2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
"Thank you for the wounds,
as if I didn't have enough of them"
Or so that's what I used to say under my breath
as I counted each one on my back
"Hey, it sucks to be me"
That was just me putting it so lightly
How could I face another day
without turning my head
to watch the rain drench over me?
And I don't know what 'sorry' means to you
But I know that my eyes and throat are sore
And I don't know what 'sorry' means to you...
But I'm ready to open another door
It's a slow-healing scar
Reminding me where I've been
and how far I've come along
It's a slow-healing scar
Ready to heal that longing...
Yet another face
looking my way without so much a care
Dare I open my mouth and speak a word
as the world moves on without me
leaving me in the dust?
I feel like a ghost
while our mistakes keep haunting me
How could I face another day
not knowing what could have been?
It cuts m
Saints of San AxolotlEcho birds are as common as muck, and about the same color. Theyre found only in San Axolotl, where they scurry along the paving stones and under the tables of the street cafes, through trash-clogged back alleys and down the walks of rooftop gardens, looking for scraps and seeds. Once you leave the city, though, the echo bird population tapers off within five miles, and the only specimens anywhere else in the world have glass eyes and are wired to their perches.Saints of San Axolotl6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Echo birds are not mimics. There are all kinds of mimics in the bird kingdom, from the pygmy mynah to the rare and savage Cassowary Macaw, whose repertoire generally consists of the screams and curses of its last unfortunate victim. Mimicry is no longer a particularly impressive trick. Any old parrot, with time and patience, can learn to whistle the national anthem and make obscene comments, or both at the same time.
The echo bird, however, does something quite beyond mimicry. If you encounter an echo bird, all you will s
My Alien Girlfriend (Chapter 2)My Alien Girlfriend (Chapter 2)1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The girl leaped to her feet and made a dash for the back door. Her legs pumped in an odd way, as her legs seemed to bend backwards rather then forwards, much in the same way that a horses legs acted. Though a large part of me wanted to just let her flee into the rainy night, I couldn’t get over my desire for answers. I rushed after her into the rain. She was already leaping down the stairs, and I wasn’t about to let her get away.
“WAIT!” I shouted. I threw myself at her and we collided. I was surprised at the softness of her skin. She let out a loud cry of fright as we both hit the ground hard. I felt her thrashing and I clutched her leg tightly, keeping her on the ground. “I WANT ANSWERS!” I roared at her.
“Kelvarduut! Par kelvarduut braam!” The girl screamed in some strange and nonsensical language that I couldn’t figure out. I was shocked and almost lost my grip on her. Her free leg shot out and collided with my face as I rolled
LandscapeLandscapeLandscape1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
These worn old bones
Were built listening to the whispered secrets of my eons;
Clothed in hardscrabble curves desolate and grudging,
The fragile bloom of innocence plundered long ago
Storm-wrought crags of old scars
Beneath a veneer of life gone harsh and dry, obscured
I am the product of my own time
And would keep my own counsel,
A monument to endurance, tenacity absurd
Harsh and arcane
Bitter and needless.
Yet incrementally, as the winds of solitude weather me,
Lay me achingly bare beneath the blind and heedless —
Callous fixed and far blue gaze
Dimmed by rheumy cirrus haze —
I am sculpted by my own unrequited desires.
Your eyes seek enigma
Inherently understanding the lyrical breathless magnificence
Of old pain, long scorned.
Wayfarer of my recondite ways
In limning my forsaken form with the light of your love
You redeem the years of waiting
To you, I yield
My every hidden beauty.
His PrincessDaddy tried to keep daughter safeHis Princess3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
away from boys and major heartbreak.
Kills the monsters under her bed
tells her fantasies that fill her head.
Silently watches as she sleeps
holds her tight as she weeps.
A single person whose always there
sword in hand, hand in air.
Always ready to defend
his daughter, his princess
till the end.
Half Made WholeLong years I wrote, to try to fill the hollow —Half Made Whole1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
That perfect understanding death denied me;
Where acceptance promised, I would follow…
Bitterness and longing walked beside me.
Arising from the nadir of my choice,
I lifted up my jaded eyes to find
My heart and hopes were echoed in your voice;
My thoughts and visions mirrored in your mind.
Your stars and mine are synchronized, it seems —
The other half, for which I’d always pray:
You say the things I've only ever heard in dreams
I tell you what I've only ever hoped to say.
comfortable sleep - shoujo-aiIt was late. Or perhaps it was early, depending on what you call those early hours between midnight and breakfast. As late as it was, none of the occupants of our small hotel room were asleep yet. Liz and I had been reading. My mother had been watching the news. The reading lamps and TV were on, all shining brightly into my tired eyes. It hurt to blink, but it also hurt not to blink and I remember doing both in equal measure until my eyes watered. I could feel the cold air leaking from the shivering aic-conditioner in the corner washing across my dried eyeballs, breathing across my eyelashes.comfortable sleep - shoujo-ai9 years ago in Teen More Like This
The yaoi manga I had been reading slipped to my fingertips until I could barely even hold it up. I figured I had enough strength left to pick it up and place it on top of the towering stack of gay porn I had amassed in the dealer's room before I passed out from lack of energy. However, it took a full five minutes of concentrating before my brain was able to coax my limbs into movement. Dearly hopi
The TrundlerThe Trundler1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
Not WelcomeThe living be not welcome hereNot Welcome11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
The place we specters do hold dear
In fragile dreams of days long past
Among splintered wood and shattered glass
JonesyYour quiet masks a million glories —Jonesy1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tell me all your wondrous stories!
Take me on your journeys, wending
To the sweet or bitter ending.
With sagas dark and incandescent —
Inspiration, sharp and true
Ever spilling out of you.
Traveler in search of dreams…
Ideas bursting at the seams.
Wise beyond your years, insightful,
Kind and charming, droll, delightful.
These lines for you are but a token
Of all the things we leave unspoken.
Companion in creations clever…
Partner, and best friend forever.
A New Fairy Tale (Introduction)A New Fairy Tale (Introduction)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess…
Indeed, we all know this beginning. The princess that is saved from an evil dragon by a brave and noble knight. They fall in love and ride off into the sunset where they will live a happily ever after. It’s a story so timeless and loved that we now know it by heart. It takes up the majority of our story books and fairy tales.
Well, you can go ahead and throw out the story books and the typical stories that you’ve heard, because this story is nothing like those tales. This is a story about princesses, knights, and even dragons…but this is a story like nothing you’ve heard before. In this story, not all knights are brave and noble. In this story, not all dragons are dark and evil. In this story, not all princesses are weak and defenseless women who require protection. And, unfortunately, in this story, not all stories end with a happily ever after.
No…this fairy tale is most definitely n
Catch a Killer, Chapter 1Chapter 1Catch a Killer, Chapter 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
There was a dead body in the water and it wasn't my fault.
It hadn't been my idea to go to the swimming pool late at night in spite of the fact that breaking and entering was generally very much my forte. My best friend and often co-conspirator was the instigator of the trouble this time; he insisted that this was his last chance to go swimming before either the police or his wanderlust caught up with him and so I went with him. Likely out of pure nostalgia or a combination of that and pity, but I went. It was laughably easy to break inside of the community pool; the locks on it were meant to keep out teenage vandals, not two people who had been breaking in and out of government facilities and museums since the tender age of sixteen.
My friend hit the water first and the resounding splash made me shake my head and chuckle a little. I slid in after him and contemplated the dark shadows of the water rippling across an only half lit ceiling. There was something decidedly freeing
preemptive breakup poemif anyone ever tells you your sadness isn't physical,preemptive breakup poem3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
show them the ache in your bones,
the raw skin on your arms or wrists or hips or thighs,
the imprint of your foetal body on your mattress from the days you couldn't bear to leave.
and you see this?
this is what hurt looks like.
i want you to look closer, lean in a little until you can feel the sadness on my breath
and i want you to watch my eyes. count how often they blink and count how many of them are forcing back words i still can never say.
i don't want you to miss a second of how you make me feel.
i want to be what keeps you up at night
i want to be the reason you can't eat
or laugh at your favourite tv programs
i want to be the reason
you walk with your eyes on the pavement
because too many things
remind you of me
i want you to feel the soreness of a heart unloved
loudly enough that the beating is mute and slow
loudly enough that you keep your hands in your pockets
when you move through the city so you don't touch any