Beginning, Middle, And EndI’ve always been told,Beginning, Middle, And End1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Good stories have a beginning, middle and end,
Not necessarily in that order.
Every time I use to talk to you,
My speech sounded more
Like Morse code.
See, ‘cause small talk to me,
Is the civilian equivalent
Of trying to diffuse a bomb.
THERE IS AN UNDERWIRE…
THERE IS AN UNDERWIRE!
I wrote you letters
You never read.
I think I’m wasting my time.
I’m trying to relight old matches,
As if it will rekindle flames
That have vanished long ago,
Or make a house
Rise from the ashes.
I built you a house,
Made out of our memories.
I hope it can shelter you
In my dream, your silhouette
Tried to engulf me.
I managed to escape,
But I wish it had.
I burned the house down,
You’re a 6 year old girl
I’m a 3rd generations Asian-Canadian
Looking for a place I belong.
I don’t know you.
You don’t know me.
JittersMARTYJitters3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ok. This mess is called Jitters.
Teacher gave me a one-word name
On the first day of the third grade.
She labeled me with my condition
And so sparked a life-long tradition
Of insecurity and anxiety, cyclical
Critical hits dealt to my clinical tics
By cynical pricks so I set adrift
Across a rift between me and every other fucking kid I ever dared not encounter, fearing the ridicule they would pursue.
A few years later we went to the zoo.
A tarantula, gargantuan, yet trying to hide
from our view in a viewing tank
With sandy banks and small cacti
Yet we could not avert our childish eyes.
“True,” said teacher,
“You’re probably less afraid of her
than she is of you.”
Classmates nonetheless crinkled noses and said ew.
But meekly I whispered, “I’m just like you.”
Wish I were as sneaky, lord knows I’m as creepy,
people think I’m freaky, but I’m just like you.
Dad got me a baby tarantula that year.
I gave him the sam
The Artist SyndromeThis work is simply brilliant!The Artist Syndrome2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Says the artist in me.
I'll have it framed twice!
So precious it be...
Says the artist in me,
But what if people hate it?
So precious it be!
I cannot let them take it!
And what if people hate it,
And what if they hate me?
I cannot let them take it
I'll lock it away you see!
And what if they hate me?
A simple lock will not suffice!
I'll lock it away you see.
In a land of frozen ice...
"And that, my dear Mrs. Sutherland, is why I shipped my art homework to Antarctica!"
Commissions [OUT DATED]READ THE DESCRIPTION TO LEARN HOW TO PAY ME IN POINTS!!!!Commissions [OUT DATED]3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Icons: Please go to RevPixy to make all pixel orders (link in description)
Full Body: 600
Full Body Side Sitting Multi Animation: 800
Head Shot: 400
Flat Color: 400
Cel Shade: 500
Soft Shade: 600
Flat Color: 600
Cel Shade: 700
Soft Shade: 800 [Points]
Sketch: 200 [Points]
Flat Color: 300 [Points]
Cel Shade: 400 [Points]
Soft Shade: 500 [Points]
Black and White Sketch: 300 [Points]
Color Sketch: 400 [Points]
Clean Thick Lineart:
LineArt: 500 [Points]
Flat Color: 600 [Points]
Cel Shade: 700 [Points]
Soft Shade: 900 [Points]
Clean Thin Lineart:
LineArt: 800 [Points]
Flat Color: 900 [Points]
Cel Shade: 1000 [Points]
Soft Shade: 1200 [Points]
Black and White Sketch: 600 [Points]
Color Sketch: 700 o
Grave RosesDon't rest roses on my grave,Grave Roses3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
trail of bouquet that you pave.
Vibrant death, ignorantly conveyed,
leading too, my buried cave.
What flowers, my love, have you brought today?
Soil in dead eyes, all to grainy.
Memory waning, soon to forget.
A bold quartet, pedals of debt.
Ah, a rose?
Don't mask your woe, we both know,
I am gone, grown so cold.
Fading marrow, in my bones.
Corpse alone, parted soul.
May I love, be so bold?
let your heart bleed,
forever sorrow, forever grieve.
Let me be.
And on my grave, let grow weeds.
Don't rest roses on my grave.
GrowingI hear the scattering leaves beyond my windowGrowing2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It reminds me of things I knew so long ago
How to hold a ball and just when to throw
The sound of a hundred boots tromping through the snow
When there was no question as to where I'd go
A superstar in the spotlight, the man in the moon
We knew without doubt that we'd all be there soon
Filled with the urgency of things that children do
Just as our instructors said, lacking even a single clue
Oblivious to the world around us, no matter how we grew
The feel of card stock in our hands
The smell of Autumn settling on the land
Plastic and wires coming to take all our time
Without a single worry to weigh on our minds
But these things have long since come to pass
Each gone our own ways with the splitting of the class
Our childhood minds as green as corroded brass
And with the shards of dreams sparkling like shattered glass
We each learned to buckle and join the faceless mass
And for all the places I might have been
Or all those things I may have se
Venom of ThoughtYou may think I don't noticeVenom of Thought2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I can always see
The way you look at her
A way you never look at me.
The monster whispers in my ear
"You're not good enough, you know"
I try to wave him off,
Try not to let it show.
That he's tearing at my flesh
Ripping my insides out.
He fills me with self-hatred,
Depression, and self-doubt.
"You'll never make it far,"
He hisses to my heart.
"Cuz you suck at everything,
Like your writing, and your art."
Outwardly, I cringe,
Letting loose a tear.
"This simply isn't true!" I shout.
"My dream come true is near!"
"Everyone else is higher up,"
He laughs and murmurs low.
"You'll never get that high
From where you are so far below."
I wince and pull away,
From something I can't see.
The thing that claws my life apart,
This monster inside of me.
"I have a future," I cry aloud.
"I truly know I do."
The monster only smiles
And to a vicious grin it grew.
"Your future's as dull as you are,
You're dumber than the rest.
And you're just as empty-hearted.
You can feel
Questions.Questions.Questions.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Nobody has the answers
But everybody has the Y’s.
Speculations of a faultless green pasture,
Based on a line of best fit that was drawn to lie.
The solution is a sequence of random numbers and dates.
In addition to a complicated sum of love, grief, fear and hate.
Which form a unique equation that can never be revealed.
It’s the only bit of ignorance that still remains concealed.
Even though we may feel defenseless.
The possibilities are endless.
The opportunities are relentless.
Opinions become senseless
And still we lie restless.
Attempting to solve the unsolvable
And control the uncontrollable.
To know the unknowable.
Another Language called EnglishI took your adjectives for granted. There was something about the way you skipped over your 's'es and gleaned over your 'i's and 'e's, that never really made me want to kiss you. You'd sit there with your languid fingers clutching a book that was half finished, and read me words that were completely mispronounced. It would prickle me under my skin and I would grit my teeth, wondering when you would stop. I would never understand the english language you thought you spoke, and your confidence in your own words annoyed me.Another Language called English2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was comical when you spoke in front of our friends. Your mistaken pronunciation of the word 'pronunciation' in particular made them giggle. I would stand in a corner, clutching a glass of rum and coke and cringe, flushing in second hand embarrassment. You would smile at me from across the room, and continue with your tangled tongue as though nothing was wrong.
I felt sorry for you. But not sorry enough when you took your favourite writing pen from my d
Dedicated to Robin WilliamsThe earth cries,Dedicated to Robin Williams1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Its roars of weeping billow across the sky with deafening volume.
The clouds groan under the weight of their own tears,
The ground is flooded with their sadness.
All over the world, people mourn.
His family and friends, his fans...
Parents, grandparents, and children alike.
We have lost a role-model, a childhood...
All mourn for the loss of a legend..
A hero to many.
One who has bestowed so much happiness,
So much laughter and encouragement,
While he himself battled a war within his being.
How could this be? We ask ourselves.
How could someone so great
Fall to such depths?
But as these inquiries burn in our minds,
There is something greater to cling to within our hearts...
The mark he has left on the world.
soul slitterI want to stomp you downsoul slitter1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the spiders crawling
on the bathroom floor
at two am:
desperate and panicked
in the dark,
tired and eager
to finish you
and leave you to twitch
on glistening tiles.
gristle between your teeth,
you have cracked open
one too many torsos.
your ax-chopped halves
all ooze red longing
for you and your lips,
your warm arms,
but I know your touch
is really a sting
ConductorYou demand those around you to strike up the bandConductor2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And dance upon your word
You have zero musical talent
And yet you attempt to play the world like a fiddle
Trying to force it to your will
When it turned to its own rhythm
Eons before your ancestors took their first steps
You try to push things against the grain--
But you’ll learn one day
That you are not the conductor
Not of the world,
Not of destiny,
And last of all not of me.
Just for LaughsJust for Laughs:Just for Laughs3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There once was a man named Blue
He was a gentleman living in a shoe
He decided to go out and have a drink of stout
but then he met a thug named Drew
Gimme yo' money b*tch!
Blue was taken aback by his manner of speech
where did this man learn to speak and screech?
For language is meant to be free as a bird
not harsh and cruel like his spoken word
You crazy man? I said gimme yo' money!
Now I say it good sir and I really do
must I teach you to rhyme and listen too?
Repeat after me and follow the beat
Bobby beat his best mate Pete
Look man, I dunno what you're smokin', but I said gimme the cash!
Here's a tongue twister, slickety slock,
do you stuff your pants with a dirty gym sock?
I question the bulge that you do display
perhaps you are tiny because you act this way
And so Blue was shanked by the thug that he met
quite quickly snuffed without breaking a sweat
So let this be a lesson about the way of the rhyme
being clever with words won't preve
Hate MeHate me, despise me,Hate Me1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But know that you will never be rid of me.
I am the wretched beast inside your heart.
I am the very weight of your insecurity.
I am the feeling of dread that binds you,
Slithering through shaking veins.
To me you are but a simple host,
And while you suffer, I will grow.
Feeding off the pain that tears you apart.
I'll put into words and call it art.
EnigmaI am the saintEnigma3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You are the sinner
I am the loser
You are the winner
I am the storm
You are the calm
I am the chafe
You are the balm
I wear your thoughts
You eat my soul
I'm all in pieces
You are my whole
I long for peace
You adore war
I am your virgin
You are my whore
I steal emotion
You live for reason
I am too loyal
You thrive on treason
I break your heart
You bleed my mind
You say I'm gentle
You're cruel to be kind
My SociopathMy sociopath.My Sociopath2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
People are just a means,
To achieve your goals.
You don't really care.
It's all pretend.
I wonder if they can tell?
But I'm different.
I'm your love,
Even if I don't love you,
Even if I can't love you.
You will protect me,
And care for me,
And I will show you kindness.
I will act as if I care,
Because you make me happy.
Your manipulations will get you far,
Swan SongSwan Song:Swan Song4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Those days we used to spend together
So gentle and so sweet...
Are buried like my sister's corpse
Entombed beneath my feet...
The mornings we spent in the grove of dryads
Braiding each other's hair...
I visit the very same places now;
But I know that she isn't there.
I can hear her voice from time to time
As a dying whisper amongst the trees.
But I can never forget that day;
It festers like disease...
A waking nightmare, so vivid and real
I am lost in the grip of its chilling touch.
You called to me, on that fated morning
Bearing a wound and crutch...
But they came like thunder, these men of steel
They heft their weapons high in the air.
They shrieked and praised their vaunted deity
As they laid her body bare...
At the behest of the robed one, they took her apart.
They chopped her to pieces, and they burned her heart.
And then it was done, like a sprinkling rain.
They left our forest, with a walk of dis
Dear Angry PersonIt has come to my attention that youDear Angry Person2 years ago in Letters More Like This
are about as pleasant as a rank plate of lemons jammed down an old lady’s throathave some behavioural problems with regards to your interactions with the community. This is not good for you and for that reason; I hope you will read this letter.
Considering that your actions reflect badly on you as a
walking sack of organic waste that is sucking up our airartist, I thought that I would step in and offer my own take on things. I hope within this letter to assist you in removing the metallic rod you have jammed so far up your posterior!by explaining to you that your behaviour ,which reminded me of a repugnant cat-lady swearing at the kids on her lawn,was improper, considering the circumstances and the alternative.
You see, I too am an individual that has trouble controlling his emotions. I strive very hard not to say what I am truly thinking as more often than not, you
Depressionsometimes I feel you lurking thereDepression2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
near the corner of my conscience
the part of me that is aware
I feel you and sometimes see you
that dark shadowy form that you have
the way that you flit around my psyche
trying not to be seen clearly
until you are ready to pounce upon me
which you often do in my sleep
giving me dreams that hurt
making me relive past pains
waking me sometimes with your sharp bite
I feel you lurking there now
and I try not to sleep
for I am tired of the ache
tired of the old game
that you and I play
I have the better of you
most often during the day
when the sun shines into my eyes
and I can feel better things more strongly
but in the darkness you try to come
filling me with the old despair
that no one can ever understand
unless they too have had a great loss
and felt the knife of betrayal
deep within their heart
but I will fight on with you
my enemy my nightmare
Official FFM Prompt Bank 2014:iconflash-fic-month:Official FFM Prompt Bank 20141 year ago in Editorial More Like This
This promptmobile has been parked up rusting for a whole year. It needs an oil change, a lick of paint and some air in the tyres. We're presently sourcing some fluffy dice for the mirror and a nice novelty airfreshener.
Most importantly, though, the tank is dry as a bone.
Time to siphon us off some promptjuice. Fuel us up with your best original prompts for people to dip into during the month when they need creative jump leads.
As always, the chosen few will be chosen, featured and credited in our daily updates.
Protip: We can always use visual prompts, musical prompts, prompts in the form of interpretive dance and other variegated promptitudinousness as well as the usual prompts made of words.
VIVA LA FFM!