DrowningThere is a sorrow,Drowning7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Within our cores
Weighing us down,
Pulling us deeper
The souls of humanity,
Loose our voices to the blue
We do not call out,
We cannot fight
Distanced by the stereotypes
Pained by the chill,
The salt in our wounds,
We are the most alone
We cannot survive,
We cannot swim
Drowning in the sorrow,
We cannot fight the sorrow,
The inevitable tug-o-war
of the tides of misery
Our lungs beat mercilessly
at out white-fire chests
Armed robbery for oxygen
Success is not expected
Our vision is blurred
by the water in our eyes,
Soaking our faces
into unidentifiable memories,
A thousand centuries
In the silence
That we may not
.i wanted to bathe.2 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in fire; for the amber tongues
to lick me clean, pure
Reversed Abduction -Intro-My breath began to choke me. I sprinted through the thick forest, my hair tangled and my skin covered in blood. Fallen branches scraped at my open wounds as wind howled through the trees. My ripped t-shirt felt like it was suffocating me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t escape. A seemingly invisible tree root tripped me as I tried once again to find a way out of the forest. I landed with a thud in the dirt. In panic, I quickly crawled to a tree and sat, confused and terrified.Reversed Abduction -Intro-6 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My name is Hazel Moon. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how to escape. And I don’t know who he is.
But he’s trying to kill me.
I got up, and suddenly, a hand covered my mouth furiously. I tried to scream, but my body was in such a shock that no sound could come out. I tried to break free, but I couldn’t.
What was happening? My thoughts raced through my mind. I tried to scream again, and finally, I actually made a sound
SymbiosisPencilSymbiosis4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dangling from the artist's mouth
As she works diligently into the dark onyx night
Ray-Ban, Genuine Since 1937
Sits atop the writer's nose
As he works diligently into the glowing rays of the rising sun
Worn but loved
Shoved into the artist's messenger bag
As she heads out the door to her favorite coffee shop
New and loved dearly
Delicately placed into the writer's backpack
As he heads out the door to a coffee shop he just heard about
She craves it
Wrapping a cozy plaid scarf around her head
As she steps inside her home away from home
He craves it
Brushing a strand of jet black hair out of his face
As he steps inside the coffee shop
Standing in line
The artist glances with a sense of appreciation
The color schemes of the shop
While the writer notices the bustling c
Through Different Eyes: Part 3Through Different Eyes: Part 3Through Different Eyes: Part 32 years ago in Profiles More Like This
With Dark Luck now in a state of weakness, the Queen began the assimilation. Too weak to fight back or resist, she began sifting through his memories, learning valuable information for future feeding off the town of Ponyville and erasing memories that Dark Luck clung to and cherished. She needed a blank changeling, with no reminders of the past.
But these memories, images of Val, his friends, his life...
He would not let go of them easily. Though weak, his mind was set for one thing. Preservation.
Her voice was in his thoughts. With every passing minute, she got louder, harder to ignore. Her influence was spreading over him swiftly.
"You are a drone...." She echoed.
"You seek out love and return it for your Queen to feed. You have no other reason of existence, other than to serve the Queen."
She was implanting images of changelings in his head, repeating her words like a message to brainwash him and make him lose all independent thought.
"No....I'm not a
Beautiful LieThoughts from an empty bowlBeautiful Lie7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Swimming round and round in circles
Creating a whirlpool of emotions
Drowning me and sucking me in
It's a beautiful lie
When the glass is half empty
Turn off the light
Hear the glass break
And my emotions spill out
Like a raging sea
Spilt out for the world to see
Too Late4 years old, playing with Barbies.Too Late8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mixing and matching, doing their hair.
She created outfits, her imagination soaring.
Mommy and daddy didn’t mind.
10 years old, occasionally taking out her Barbies.
Brushing and combing, braiding their hair.
She wondered why they looked so perfect.
Mommy and daddy didn’t mind.
15 years old, playing with make-up.
Applying and prepping, perfecting her hair.
She created her outfits, precision in mind.
Mommy and daddy didn’t notice.
17 years old, playing with boys, looking at girls.
Kissing and touching, and developing a complex.
She wanted to be just like them, she wanted to be pretty.
Mommy and Daddy didn’t mind.
18 years old, her toilet is her best friend.
Eating and wasting, perfecting herself.
She just wanted to be beautiful.
Mommy and Daddy don’t notice.
20 years old, they call her no more.
No more breathing, no more perfecting.
She just wanted to be loved.
Mommy and Daddy blame themselves.
20 years old, laying in her g
44443890a country road444438907 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is splotched and bruised
with autumn slush,
the remains are warm
and simmer patiently -
in the distance,
a cluster of geese
shiv'ah.shiv'ah7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Our feet bled from seashells
under the lighthouse stove light
beaming raccoon streaks in
We looked all night, where the bottle glass
was licked smooth;
we pulled seaweed from whalebone ribcages
calling it her hair dissected from a comb.
The soul is the lamp of god
Mother walked backward into the ocean
the morning I married that siren-eyed boy.
The blood orange
segmented on ashwood tabletop:
I'll see a sunset running-juice
tucked between your lips,
spilling into cupped hands.
and he rose before the deer woke
and took a shotgun to the edge of the water
Tacopocalypse- FFM day 7 As Jerry fell into a vat of radioactive taco sauce he wondered what his very last thoughts were going to be. His last thoughts, as archived by the The Imperial Cosmic Being's Official Secretarial Committee at the time just before his demise, were taken down as a series of unintelligible mental screams which occurred as his mouth filled up with taco sauce.Tacopocalypse- FFM day 78 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There were, however, worse ways to die, as only a few states away a paroled convict was released on the same streets he had terrorized twenty years before. The convict was eventually captured and horrifically devoured by the sentient tacos that pursued him.
"Fifth taco related death this week," grumbled a secretary in the employ of Heaven Incorporated. "This is all your fault," Phil the cherub accused a young man walking beside him.
"Are you kidding me?" a fairly irate Jerry asked, still rather ticked off by his traumatically hilarious death. "How is this my fault?"
"You read out of that damned book," Phil griped. "a
Through Different Eyes: Part 2Through Different Eyes: Part 2Through Different Eyes: Part 22 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Deeper and deeper, the changelings were dragging Dark Luck to their hive.
His legs were stuck together by the same goo that they used to trap him, but it was solid this time. It was like rubber, every time he pulled against it, it would snap back into place.
Not that he could fight back anyway, he was completely drained of energy. The only thing left to do now was to wait.
The changelings were the only sounds to be heard in the damp tunnels. Though they didn't speak much....
"The Queen will use it to feed, rather than send out more drones." One said, crawling across the ceiling.
"No, it is too young and weak. Her Highness will have different plans."
Dark Luck read a bit about changelings once....
Territorial creatures, rarely seen in their normal bug-like forms. They feed off love, growing stronger overtime. Not much is known about them though, as they disguise themselves as ponies to deceive them and feed off their love for each other.
Anypony you know c
Loose threads Yesterday, I sent a letter in the mail that told the story of a life and all of its loose threads. I had written on plain white paper of my new house that looks over the Atlantic Ocean. I had described its pale blue shutters, the abundance of pleasant wildflowers in the backyard, and the sparrows that perch on the telephone wires, in extravagant detail. I had written of my new boy who keeps a guitar, an amplifier, and folded Wall Street Journals in the back of his station wagon, and I described how brilliant his red hair looks at that time in late afternoon when everything's golden. He knows about The Fountainhead and socioeconomics and caramel macchiatos, but since he inspires me, he offers me something worth so much more than the breadth of his knowledgethe promise that there is more yet to be discovered.Loose threads4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I had written on the paper's slightly rugged surface of the city and its
MistSnatching at mist.Mist6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why do I always forget
that wild thrashing
only drives it away?
like scented steam
caressing my skin,
kissing my eyelids.
I draw it in.
I am whole again.
Rhapsody in BlueRhapsody in Blue7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Rhapsody in Blue
Twin-toed tapping softly the hardwood floors
Between the beats and ever-swaying hips
He holds her close, she smiles and opens doors
To a heart that has never loved now dipped.
Held suspended in faithful arms, a first
A lasting moment, inhibitions fled
Lusting for happiness, a hope not cursed
Dangling by a tenuous thread
Swirling, twirling in a frenziful daze
He winds her world-wide, she follows his lead
The music slows down, but the band still plays
A melody of time with much less speed.
But before she can say I love this song
He stops, then bows and then he is gone.
The Grammar NaziBeneath the blazing sun I duelledThe Grammar Nazi6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With a sentence that could not be read,
I saw his fingers flicker
But I was quicker,
I drew and shot him in the head.
For I am the grammar Nazi,
I tear bad English asunder,
And every misspelling
In need of quelling
Will soon be six feet under.
A hyphen or a tilde,
An underscore, a dash,
A comma misplaced
Or a line misspaced
Had better fear my wrath.
So armed with piles of Webster's
I rallied my troops around my cause,
Against grammar bad
I declared jihad,
A war to end all wars.
But the forces of darkness were much too strong
And after the victors took their trophies,
Then me they trailed
And had me jailed
For crimes against apostrophes.
So as I rot in some unholy cell
E's before I's walk our streets,
But while they'll die
From the ashes I'll rise-
The grammar Nazi shall not be beat(en)!
The Carpet WeaverRumi saidThe Carpet Weaver3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
said he did
put this design
in your carpet!
risen fallen risen fallen arising falling arising falling
and weaving weaving always weaving into this carpet
birth and death and death and birth and first and last breath
and breathing breathing always breathing and weaving
said he did
put this design
in your carpet!
sighing and heaving and tightly weaving sighing and heaving
every thread of everything ever said into this carpet
blood and pain and risen birth and fallen death
rest no rest woven unwoven unravelling thread
in your carpet!
put this design
said he did
illicit gain and unforgiving rain stain the wooden grain
I weave into the world's refrain, oh the forgotten, the lost
heaving the heavy double threaded and much dreaded gorgon-
headed war bleary and dreary carpet I am far far weary
Rumi I said
said I did
put this design
in your own damn carpet!
September Cat HaikuA purring catSeptember Cat Haiku2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
tramples across my keyb
Urinal EtiquetteUrinal Etiquette6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What are you thinking, taking
the stall next to mine? It's pissing me off!
There's no personal-space buffer zone.
Your body heat encroaches
upon me, a vigilante electric blanket.
I'm only looking at you to make sure
you're not peeking at me and my best
friend. From the cradle, we've been joined
at the hip, he and me, surviving Freudian anxieties
and staying up late, telling jokes, sharing a drink
when Susie Davis blocked our hopes as
a roid-raged linebacker might, and
here you come, taking the stall next to mine
when it's clear you could choose any other.
I'll flush you like a bean burrito if you even
think about casually brushing my elbow,
but maybe it was my fault in the first place.
I could have gone one over next to the wall,
but that would've left me checkmated.
There's nothing left for me but to wash my hands
of this urinal, and of your lack of etiquette.
The Crumbling CityThe Crumbling City6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The charred remain and cracked stone smoulder;
Shadowing what once was, but is no more.
Her once-nurtured breath grows ever colder,
Rushing through the halls with deafening roar.
Towers reveal the eyes furious gaze;
Blinding heights give way to the poisoned ground
Coughing cancerous breath in blackened haze
Blurring my vision, distorting all sound.
I look upon my own broken city;
Eyes look with remorse, sorrow and disgust
At crumbling streets and towers with pity,
My hardships and dreams fading into dust.
Labour weaved by careful calculation
Carries with rubble faiths dissipation.
Canada vs CleverbotUser: H-Hi. I-I'm Canada.Canada vs Cleverbot10 months ago in Comedy More Like This
Cleverbot: You're a whole country?
User: Well yes but I have a q-question...
Cleverbot: Yes, I do.
User: Y-you do what?
Cleverbot: I do accept you marrying me.
User: W-what!!?!? I d-didn't ask you to m-marry me!
Cleverbot: Yes you did. Don't lie to me.
User: I-I-I am not l-lieing to you!
Cleverbot: 9 pm?
Cleverbot: I will always love you!
User: *blushing* Thanks.
Cleverbot: *smiles* you're welcome.
User: W-wait , are y-you are another f-fangirl??
User: *protecting curl* NoOoOOoooooo!
Cleverbot: *is shocked* d-did I do something?
User: No, b-because I thought that all f-fangirls what to p-pull my curl.
Cleverbot: I could not decide, for your opinion, I will let you.
Cleverbot: Bohemian Rhapsody.
Cleverbot: How many pounds do you weigh?
User: Why do you want to know?
Cleverbot: Why not?
User: Do you know w-w-who I am?
User: I'm Cana...you know what
Four-Letter PoemsWe try to recombine each other,Four-Letter Poems3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to overwrite the coding of us constantly-
yet I've never been good at Scrabble
And I can't make poems out of four letters,
Hackers, we've corrupted this sourcecode
Attaching and removing strings
So long and repeteadly it feels like forever;
And now and then it is
Like we're decorating a Christmas tree
But we lost all sense of beauty.
we have tried. I feel my insides
A festival of scars and tentatives of surgery;
enzymes, our guests, look for those special seats that
Have a name and a shape fitting them only.
And they will cut up their fabric and
tear apart their old, tired cushions.
And pull out the fluffy beauty from inside them,
"We're just modernizing them a bit!".
And I will look at you, my so-called love
Through eyes crying aminoacid chains;
but I've never been good at Scrabble, so
you unmade and rebuilt all my four-letter poems.
The beauty and the wonder of
Nitrogenous base sequences,
You nitpicked the best restriction e