The Lion's DenThe walls trembled as shadows spiraled out of control. Daniel froze, tightly gripping his leatherback journal. The darkness was closing in. From above, he could hear the stone slabs of the estate crumbling. Soon, the Auttenberg House would fall apart, trapping Daniel beneath it. He exhaled heavily, sprinting up the next stairwell he could find, in hopes that this would be the last on his excursion.The Lion's Den4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Rebecca!" His voice had grown hoarse from calling her name. Shoving the doorway at the top of the stairs open, Daniel peered through the empty darkness. "Rebecca?"
His gritted his teeth together and trembled. This couldn't be. Surely he had checked every room in the estate; yet, Rebecca was nowhere to be found. Daniel cursed aloud, kicking the door.
He rested against the wall before covering his face. His journal fell beside him, opening to a few written pages in the middle. Daniel cringed at the sight of the words and violently nudged the journal away.
This is all your faul
92. InnocenceI crouch on the floor,92. Innocence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As if angered by my weakness.
My mind runs in circles.
So very impractical
But so very grown-up
A disheveled vampire's white
That fades to a permanent blush.
I get up, continuing my little walk of the day
That seems to become a journey
Then a quest
Then a forced march
Until I enter the cool solitude of my home.
I shut the door
Sitting down carefully,
Bruised in the soul.
And I look down at my hands
And the anger flares up
All over again, my brain set in overdrive.
My tattered flag.
The flag named innocence.
It is little more
Than a scrap of what could never be.
acridi.acrid2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a dead bird rots,
stomach heat-split and picked on,
feathers stuck to the concrete
when he peels it up.
he pours kerosene,
holding one shaking match litó
fat melts, entrails crisp,
marrow dries and bones crack,
ashes rise against the wind,
falling on gray buildings.
in his midmorning dream,
the phoenix soars.
Southern Hospitality"No mom, I'm fine, really." I insisted, balancing the phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I lifted another cardboard box.Southern Hospitality3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Nicole, I'm feeling very uneasy about this. I mean, a young girl, alone in a big house out in the country. Why couldn't Dexter be there tonight?"
I sighed, setting the box on the floor by my feet. "He's got one more meeting tomorrow morning, and then he's on the first flight to Georgia. I'm okay for one night, I promise. All I have to do is get my last two boxes in from the car, and I'm in for the night. Okay?"
"Well, okay. But just promise me to lock all the doors, and all the windows. It's a big house. I'd feel better if I knew you were completely safe."
I nodded, immediately feeling stupid when I realized she couldn't see me.
It was a pretty big house.
Dexter had insisted that when we were finally married, we would live in a big house in the country. This was all fine and dandy, minus the fact he was gone four out of seven days on
Coffee.there are sepia filmsCoffee.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of soldiers, married
and women in
I am the woman
(I should be hung)
Peeling AwayMy girlfriend's an animal in bed.Peeling Away3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'd only been with one girl before, and she was all soft curves, no corners. She wanted roses and candlelight, soft kisses and indie music.
Mina leaves scratches down my back that she denies in the morning. Mina tells me to bite her in places other people won't see, because she likes bruises. Mina takes her steak so rare I never believe it's cooked.
She has panic attacks during the new moon; she's never told me anything about her past. I've never asked her questions. I never push. Secrets are part of life. And I always knew she'd tell me when she was ready.
Mina waited for Jo to drop into true sleep before slipping out the window. When they moved in together, Mina told herself she would change only on the full moonJo didn't knowbut Mina needed moonlight on her skin. She started running. The park would be good.
Mina tried to shut her mind off, but her thoughts chased her. She shouldn't have said yes to this competition. She was going to
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,No wander about it, just lust.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
I think I found God then,
39. Out of TimeI'm... suffering...39. Out of Time2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
P-Please, oh god.... C-Can't breathe....
...Kill me. Kill me now...
The loathsome mask slid away.
I was alive.
That first breath. Dear god, that first breath. It was so wonderful and horrible and simple at the same time. I hacked, I choked, I felt so very unlucky.
I wanted to die. Do not give me precious life!
I heard Master calling my name. It felt distant and unreachable, as if the sound was coming from the depths of a deep, dark hole. I felt so detached from this entire affair. This was frightening, this was wrong. He'd always been this way. He never listened to me... Was I so wrong that he had to tune me out? Why did he always have to play god!
I tried out my new eyes. The lids felt heavy and deprived of rest.
Alas, they... still could not see. I did not care... I did not want to live, no matter what grand plans Master had in store for me.
"No I'm not..." I whispered. My voice sounded so inhuman. We
Fear Is The Heart of Love"You should skip this mission," Dean said as he stepped through the beads leading into Cas's room. He was surprised he didn't walk into the middle of an orgy, but that's not to say he wasn't relieved he didn't.Fear Is The Heart of Love4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Cas looked up at him from his bed with his little half smile, but Dean could see he wasn't stoned, for once. His blue eyes were more clear than he'd seen them since this whole damn apocalypse had started.
"We both know I'm going to go with you, Dean," Cas said with the all-too familiar tilt of the head.
"Goddamit Cas!" Dean said, turning and slamming his fist into the thin wall in a rare exhibit of anger. "Just fucking stay here!"
Cas blinked owlishly at him, unaffected by Dean after seeing every possible emotion on the hunter's face. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were the other Dean," he remarked dryly.
Dean scowled at him. "I couldn't be him, I'm not that weak."
"You are. You just hide it behin
Poem: A Memoriam of IndiaMissing teeth set in a smiling facePoem: A Memoriam of India3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Bright colors floating in the violent sun
Radiant flowers peeking out of a wooden vase
The bustle of feet increased when the day is done.
Incomprehensible words spilling from foreign lips
Bodies constantly encroaching on personal space
Denim and cotton empty by holes and rips
Tons of metal swerving as if in a race.
Dark faces with bright eyes locked in a stare
Cracked heels and calloused toes amidst glass and foil
Tarp enclosure lived in by five and a pair
Back hunched over from working in soil.
The passion and joy that is ached for
Power flowing freely after spiritual drought
The desire of the SPIRIT to come even more
The enraging of a flame that will never go out.
Colliding together over mats and under sky
Dancing and singing for the ONE WHO WILL NEVER DIE
The air filled with voices and the tree's quiet sigh
As the houses listen to the song of Adonai.
Hunted Chapter 1Benjamin Whest poked his head into yet another dusty room. "It's empty Dean!" He asked hopefully, "Can we leave now ?"Hunted Chapter 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ben eyed the stonewalls that held this pile of rubble into a massive heap that reminded him of the wigwams they had made in art class out of paper clippings and clay. He scanned the walls around him and noticed that even the walls were scared and broken from years of abuse, graffiti and agony.
His older brother stopped analyzing a particular piece of writing just long enough to shoot his brother a stern look. "What's wrong with you? " He grinned mischievously, flickering his flashlight. "Is Benji afraid he'll see a ghost?" Dean broke into laughter at the momentary flash of shock that whipped across his brother's face.
Ben glared and wrestled the flashlight from his brother's hands. "Ghosts don't exist Dean."
"Course they don't."
for Charles Bukowskifor Charles Bukowskifor Charles Bukowski3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the nighttime, the tigers wait around my bed
i'll keep the radio turned on, so each hour
someone will still tell me what happened
voor Charles Bukowski
's nachts wachten de tijgers naast mijn bed
ik laat de radio aan, zodat elk uur
iemand me nog vertelt wat er gisteren
[Luna provided the Spanish translation of the poem:]
a Charles Bukowski
a la noche, los tigres esperan rodeando la cama
dejaré la radio encendida, así a cada hora
seguiré escuchando eso que pasó
artificialsweet french vanilla.artificial3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
white tea. pills in my bedroom.
take them all. i'm free
SilenceThe phone went through to voicemail every time. Cally wished caller ID had never been invented, because maybe then she'd have had a chance to talk to Li Wei.Silence3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She settled for composing voicemail after voicemail in her head, discarding each because it was too needy or too aloof or too pathetic. And all the while, a voice in her head counted off what she had done wrong.
I met Cally when I was seven. She was barefoot in a white dress, walking through the sprinklers in the park with her head tilted back and her pale hair falling down her shoulders.
I never answer anyone who asks me "So when did you know you were a lesbian?" But I think of that moment.
Cally knew something strange was going on because the restaurant wasn't open. The Kuo Buffet had been a fixture of her life since she made friends with Li Wei, almost fourteen years ago. It had been closed twice: once the day after 9/11, because Li Wei's cousin had died, and once when Kuo Fai, Li Wei's great-gra
SouthboundMy first trip alone was at the age of ten, and it was in an airplane. But even back then I never really thought of it as a trip alone, cause there were all those other people on the airplane, too. I had won a trip from an annonymous benefactor (still, to this day) who had read my interview as a street corner newspaper salesman. In the interview I explained how I was saving all my dimes and nickels and occasional quarters that I made from my daily newspaper sales, to fly to Edmonton and see our Grandma, or Baba as we called her. She was Ukranian.Southbound2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
So, basically I was shipped to the airport in Victoria, BC and held onto until boarding time, and then encapsulated in the jet plane, and then met outside the plane in Edmonton, Alberta. I don't remember one little thing on the plane. Nope, not one thing! I know! Imagine how that benefactor must feel! Well, actually, I do remember a pretty stewardess, but
BIRDIf I regret anything, it is the reticence of birds--BIRD5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my reticence, the uncertainty of the word "today,"
which rusts like the flute before Judith one.
If there is a time to undress, it is now,
but my thoughts close in on me, like a tunnel,
and I lose sight of everything except the wind.
Beneath it all, my hollow bones
are icy blue, each joy expunged--
I feel it keenly, here, and there.
My Innovative NightmareIt was the most fluid experience I have ever been through.My Innovative Nightmare6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
There were bustling sounds that night; I woke up immediately in the darkness of my room. There were sounds coming from my pen pouch; the one I use to draw my heart out with. It didnt take me long to realize that the sounds were real and were indeed coming from my pouch on the desk. Okay, what the heck? Is there a bug in the or something? One way to find out. I picked it up and unzipped it, looking down into the small pouch but there were no pens or pencils. Nada. Why I came in closer, Ill never know. There was hollow darkness in that small thing! I brought my face closer to it then closer then closer then
I fell through the pouch as if it was a long tunnel leading to the center of the earth.
I fell and fell and fell, looking up to see the opening of the pouch zip closed. Then I heard a bunch
Melon-BabyMelon-Baby was round and sweet,Melon-Baby2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Almost far too cute to eat.
But in the rising Summer heat,
Temptation was too hard to beat.
One day as Mum strolled down the street,
With Melon-Baby tucked up neat,
Soundly snoring fast asleep,
Mum's hunger had begun to creep.
"It'll be some time before I eat,
I'll just munch on those little feet."
But when taste and tongue did meet,
Melon-Baby did soon deplete.
Melon-Baby was round and sweet,
Almost far too cute to eat.
But in the rising Summer heat,
Temptation was too hard to beat.
Lust for Life"French is so prettyLust for Life4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everyone should speak it,"
You tell me to call you Joie d'Vivre,
But the only problem is,
There's always a problem.
The only problem is,
Some things don't translate.
"Joy of life"
Joy is surprise party
An extra candle on the cake
(to grow on)
A big, all-American, God-loving grin
Joy is not how I feel about life at all
I think it works better in Dutch
And in the language of syphilis
And paint poisoning
I think it works better as,
"Lust for life"
I look at life with backscatter eyes
I want to seize the day by the hipbone handlebars
And pull it two steps backwards against my joy
Every day, I do what I can
To make my presence known to life
To make her feel me inside her
And to engage in all sorts of creative processes
Joie d'Vivre is writing in blood and
Trying to find time to read
In between the lines
Joie d'Vivre is the birds and the bees
Who have the exhibitionist courage to fuck outside
Joie d'Vivre is lust for life
Art made with a knife
MASQUERADEMASQUERADE3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm getting tired of playing roles
hiding myself behind the walls
i'm getting confused with these masks
losing myself within the casts
i'm sinking again in my thoughts
trying to find the proper words
my feelings, i push aside
searching for the right time
i hide my fears, i hide my lies,
but i hate my disguise
i try to resemble, try to change,
but i became so fake
how do i know what i should do,
when all i do is follow You..?
how do i know who i am,
when all i do is just pretend..?
why should i keep up with the script,
be forced to ignore my own will..?
why should i play in this show,
when all i want is say no..?
Mildew.i.Mildew.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
thought I'd ask your brother,
why you don't want to see me,
"it's just that my pockets
are warmer than your hands"
and I cannot keep myself
I do not have my own
feelings, they belong to
told you, I wouldn't tell
about the other night
in the car;
too late, the highway
saw us, as
silhouettes of sex
will I ever
to read you?