Sciencefiction WritersThey are men who can dream of things that never wereSciencefiction Writers1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They are men who can dream of things that are yet to become
They are men who dream of the perfect cure
where no diseased will ever succumb
They dream of other worlds with alien life
of a society with no need
They dream of an earth without strife
or a world void of greed
They are men who can dream of things that never should
of a world gone wrong
They dream of things that always would
of a species standing strong
Their stories of grand display
inspire the scientists of today.
The Balance of Power- Chapter 1The Balance of Power- Chapter 13 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Balance of Power
Lightning flashes, thunder booms, yet there is no rain to be found. The heavens are ripped asunder, dark clouds torn apart by an incredible force, an ancient and powerful force. The wind blows with the ferocity of a hurricane, the waters of the bay rising and falling as the waves smash against the shores. Through the chaos, three individuals seek to help those caught in the storm by getting them to safety.
"Bolin, how's it going?", Korra shouts to her friend, trying to reach them through the noise brought upon by the freak storm.
"We've got almost everyone to the shelters! Mako's still getting the last few to safety! He should be back shortly!", Bolin shouts in response, a bolt of lightning causi
The Future According to Google Search ResultsA while back someone suggested I make a scenario from this: http://xkcd.com/887/The Future According to Google Search Results1 year ago in Settings More Like This
So, I actually went ahead and did it.
In the Year 2101.
In retrospect, the 2015 declaration of progress on the UN Millenium Goals has to qualify as the most wildly overoptimistic statement of the 21st century.
It’s a hotter world, some 4-7 degrees warmer, depending on where you live, as warm as the Cretaceous. Much of Germany is now tropical, palms grow along the Berlin streets rather than Lindens, and the Arctic sea is ice-free in summer. Sea levels have risen by over a meter, and the levees around New York are too tall to see the Ocean over at street level: less wealthy coastal cities have become either depopulated or have learned to love canals. Lake Mead has evaporated and Mt. Kilimanjaro is ice-free in summers. An era of mass extinctions has only recently passed its peak: sea acidification and warming has largely wiped out the corals in the wild, the emperor penguin is gone outside of gene banks
Felisian Chronicles Chapter 1Felisian Chronicles, Chapter OneFelisian Chronicles Chapter 18 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Ally sat on top of a grass covered hill, the summer sun warmly caressing her skin as she stared ahead of her at the road below, a forest visible behind it. She sighed sadly, knowing that nobody would hear her echo of sadness in this place of silitude... Although a sudden rustling noise behind her widdened her eyes and stiffened her back. Obviously she was startled, until she realised the sound was more than likely being made by her best friend. She relaxed slightly and glanced back over her shoulder, forcing a smile to her face as she called out,
Her words seemed to vanish as she stared in surprise at absolutly nothing. The gravel driveway behind her was deserted and an eerie chill rose up her spine as she glanced around the neighbourhood. Not a person was in sight.
Just as she started to turn away, another rustling noise came from the hedges lining the other side of the driveway and Ally stared intently and waited to see if it was Lily's cat co
flying is not a synonym for falling.i. do not rise gentle from the cautious dawn.flying is not a synonym for falling.6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were born a blank piece of paper;
you etched your stories into your canvas over time.
the problem with being paper is that
you're not the only one
who can choose what you look like to others.
they glue on labels over every inch of your body.
from hair to skin to intelligence to weight to gender,
they can determine where you'll go in "life", how many friends you have, if you'll end up a whore or a prude.
they cover your pure skin with scars and bruises and graffiti,
and your fragile airplane wings become too heavy with the weight of words to fly.
they tell you to do this, and that,
to go eat a salad, not to be "fat"
they'll tell you that it's alright.
Why I BelieveYes, I believe in the story of Christ,Why I Believe1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
That He came and was born, then He grew, then He died.
I believe that He offers salvation to me.
I believe that the price of His blood makes me free.
Why, do you ask? Why do I believe,
A learned, intelligent woman like me?
Why set my mind on fantastical tales,
And in favour of hope, all of science derail?
Well if you will sit here and listen awhile,
I will tell you exactly the reason why.
I believe in the Christ, for He offers me hope
When life gets too hard and I know I can't cope,
And the prospect of death seems like welcome relief,
For the living can give me no help for my grief;
When I look in His Word and He says to me
That His strength becomes perfect when I become weak,
And all that He means is when I learn to trust
He will always come through, simply because He must,
For He loves me so much, and He promises to
Never leave me, regardless of what I go through.
I believe in the Christ, for He comforts my heart
When the people I love try to te
MasterpieceI went to a gallery the other day,Masterpiece4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I heard a tour guide say,
'This is the most beautiful painting in all the world.'
I was surprised, it's true,
To find that the painting
Wasn't of you.
I'm never sure if
I should touch you -
One thing you must never do
Is touch a masterpiece,
Lest you mar it
With your own inadequacy.
STC: Risan Holiday: PrologueSTC: Risan Holiday: Prologue1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
September 25, 2268
The view of the Orion homeworld from the large window in the captain’s office was a good one, and Captain Cera Rigel leaned against the wall as she took in the sight. This was her first time in the system and she was, to be perfectly honest, rather nervous.
The Orion Syndicate was a well-known galactic power with an infamous reputation. The Orions didn’t have the military might or vast territory that the United Federation of Planets or the Klingon Empire had, but the touch of their green fingers could be felt for hundreds of light-years. They were merchants and pirates, businessmen and slavers. They didn’t care how they made their profits so long as the profits kept coming in.
Unauthorised ships who came to Orion without legitimate business were seized and the crews put into the slave markets. They were notably suspicious of any vessels from the Federation and checked their credentials carefully. Cer
How Did We Get Here?How did we get here?How Did We Get Here?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I thought I'd knew you so well,
That I could walk into the very pits of hell,
And save you from those demons of charm;
But all I see in your eyes is pure alarm.
How did we get here?
All I knew of love has been taken away,
Corroded down to ridicule of all we could say,
Dismissed by me but cherished by you long before;
Yet not this time when words are sore.
How did we get here?
I cannot decipher the truth from the lies,
Figuring you out while the pain inside cries,
Why do you hate me with a lover's gaze;
Would you plague me forever feigning this craze?
A Study of KissesiA Study of Kisses3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
we chase each other
around the playground
round and round and round
i catch him
and then the game
goes on like this.
around the back of ict
is when she kisses me
twelve and eleven
a taste of heaven
we laugh it off.
in an alley way
towards the end
of the day
he kisses me
i kiss him
he asks if we’ll see
each other again
and i say maybe
when i mean no.
on a train
in the rain
and it tastes like
and i can just tell
it will not end
she sees i am hurt
and she wraps me up
in the harsh sting of
and it is above
anything i could ever
and she is my one regret.
who she is
i don’t know
and i don’t care
she’s just there
and it’s three am
on a london street
and we kiss
and i don’t know who she is
but i don’t care.
a final verse
on the kissing curse
i am drunk
and wanting to die
and then her hand
is on my thigh
and we kiss
and it will ne
wade liberation warwade liberation war2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Boy was about nineteen. A young man really, but his face made him look younger. Girl was younger, maybe fifteen, sixteen. Peter Bowen thought as he kept his distance considering the situation, studying the several people involved.
City of wade was under Arenian occupation for over three centuries now, and Arenian trackers seeking out mages to be drafted to their military force was hardly an unusual event. Most people who were learned in spellcasting kept their skills hidden, and their weapons were creatively concealed.
Still give it enough time and any trickery will stand revealed. Trackers were by now very skilled in noticing anything with engraved spellcasting spiral. A ring, a stick, the smallest of things. They knew what they were looking for.
This was what baffled peter as he studied the unfolding situation. Boy was blatantly wearing two short swords with the casting spiral boldly and prominently visible on their handles. Either he was a fool, of a foreigner who decide
WorldWar World, Part IIHUMANSWorldWar World, Part II2 years ago in Settings More Like This
The human race – quarrelsome, divided against itself, and from the viewpoint of the Race mad, mad, mad – continues to strive for superiority over the alien enemy. Although they now have huge, crude versions of Race fusion power plants, and weapons tech as good and in some ways superior to that of the Race, (among other things, having developed chemical weapons warfare to a nightmare peak beyond anything the Race ever attempted) and are carrying out experiments in deep space-based living and resource extraction the Race never saw economic value or point to, humanity still lags in a number of fields. The tools to build the tools to build the tools still need to be built – Race computer hardware is still beyond humanity’s ability to mass manufacture (although human computer hackers have made mincemeat of Race computer defenses often enough to make it necessary to keep computer systems in Race territory entirely separate from human networks) and human gene-sp
simple math.it was the strangest thing to be complaining about, not likingsimple math.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
feeling -this- human. feeling so fucking vulnerable and exposed, and not
understanding anything that is going on but knowing that its actually
just chemicals that we’ve given names too
and far too fucking weak to handle the tidal wave of shitty chemical reactions you
bring with you.
Lets Make Something of Decent BeautyI want you in my bedLets Make Something of Decent Beauty3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(And I do mean that in the most carnal way I can)
I don't want you to be asleep
I want you awake
lungs breathing, heart beating
underneath my fingertips and
I want your teeth on my neck and
Well your hands,
can go wherever they like.
Let me breathe in your air of heavy metal and off-drugs
So you can go home with scents of indie music and failed chastity heavy on your own hands
and demons heavy on your mind
Help me out here,
because night has stolen me away to write a more vicious fantasy for you to read and
the editor is taking out details here and there because
I guess unlike her, I want you to stick
You can stick to me.
on commuting with no hurrythere you goon commuting with no hurry6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
lighting matches in the rain,
walking with two feet
that the gods gave you
because they cannot walk,
heading home as if with news
of some miraculous disaster,
counting the steps between yourself
and the clouds that disappeared
behind the grey veil of October.
thunder and lightning unfold
so close above
and you dream of a destination
somewhere in the south
where birds and stormy weather coexist.
behind you there is nothing,
running water will erase
every footprint you have left
on the dark sand of this metropolis.
before you there is distance,
enough to live your life
in a constant state of travel,
but not nearly enough signs
for you to know
where you are heading.
close your eyes
as not to be blinded
by the red lights and the yellow warnings,
those ever changing speed limits,
and open your arms
as to be looked at by the sun
that will soon peek out behind the nothingness,
ripping the veil
of the vast, unending
First day of School (request)First day of School (request)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Kevin and Dave's mothers had signed them up for a private school. They were fed up with the constant irritation of everyday life of school. However, Kevin and Dave didn't mind it; school didn't pose a problem to either one of them. Their moms thought that they were exposed to fights, drug use and any other problem that would typically happen at school. And they were. They usually stayed out of the way of those things, too. But it was too much for their mothers to absorb that that was life. However, they also thought that Kevin and Dave were growing a bit of an attitude towards either parent. So, they signed both of them up for a private school, in which, they will both attend together as friends. The boys were confused; how were they, in anyway, 'have an attitude'? They were obediant children! They did their homework, listened to their parents and played games like any other boy would. They assumed it was probably something to do with the whole school problem. E
tangled up in blue eyesHer hair was the kind of brown where you just knew she was born blonde. Eyes, big and bright, filled with a wonder I couldn't name or place. She kept a ribbon tied in her hair; never yellow, it reminded her of mothers and children. She was a mystery to everyone and a misery to me.tangled up in blue eyes3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They said that the colour of her skin was something that resembled perfection. White porcelain with peach undertones, something of a doll; a child made from china, painted colourful with deft fingers scarred blue.
Curiousity got the best of me and I looked too deep, too quickly; oceanic blue eyes that shifted like they'd already drowned every living soul that had stepped too close, sand-lined belly full, sated. I started to wish I'd learnt to swim but the waves were almost poetic, I kept yelling and each of my syllables would form a bubble that would float the surface and be lost. That was easy enough to explain with the laws of physics and the taste of salt water in my throat.
When i yelled at her in the hou
Stranger in a CrosswalkIt was a daily routine, locking the bookstore at three each day to walk across the street to grab a cup of coffee. The wind was blowing hard enough to ruffle the hair on the crown of my head, and I clutched the collar of my jacket tight with both hands, looking both ways before crossing the two lane street.Stranger in a Crosswalk2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A woman stepped into the crosswalk not far ahead, her chin tucked down against a thick grey scarf, the earbuds of her iPod tucked firmly in each ear. She was oblivious to the world around her, not even bothering to check for cars as she stepped from the curb and into the crosswalk, her hands jammed into the pockets of her leather jacket.
As she neared, she glanced up and offered a shy smile before her eyes darted back to the ground at her feet. She was not classically pretty, but there was something cute, endearing even, about the small curve of her lips and the delicate point of her nose. She was a petite thing too, just over five feet tall thanks to the high-heeled boots she wore.
The Best is Yet to Comeif we grow oldThe Best is Yet to Come3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there will be a sigh
an attention to the change
as your muscles slacken underneath
your faded, favorite shirt
the one that's threadbare, "holy"
in a sense less than divine
I'll have washed it for
the thousandth time
our eyes will crinkle, wrinkle
in ways that start to match
and we'll hold hands and ask:
when did the nerves and veins
begin to let our hands get cold?
-if we grow old
tree, fiddler crabIt took days to hollow out the soft partstree, fiddler crab3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the trunk, dig out the tree-flesh and sap,
polish the raw wood so that when he sat,
there would be no splinters. He carved his name
into the side, like a blessing, a declaration
of good fortune, and stowed his forest inside.
The Solipsist's LotThere's something about yourself that you don't know. You probably don't remember the circumstances very well, but I do. If you enjoy things the way they are, if you revel in even the smallest speck of ignorance, you need not read ahead. I won't force you. But from what I know of you, you don't like secrets. Especially not when they are about you.The Solipsist's Lot4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You see, when you were born, so at once was everyone else. Your mother, she sprang into existence, just like that, the instant your tiny infant brain achieved the smallest semblance of self-awareness. Woven out of the ether, she remembered everything that never happened, and she looked down at you, cradled and squirming in her loving arms.
"Oh," she said. "So here is life."
The doctor was there too, although a moment before if there ever was a moment before he was not. He just nodded, smiling assuredly, and said, "Here is the beginning."
stop me if you've heard this one beforei.stop me if you've heard this one before3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a man on the corner of my street
who gave me a bottle of bleach
and told me if i drank it, i'd finally feel clean.
but i gave it back to him, and went home to take a shower.
because i am almost happy,
and i do not want to mess that up by
chugging bleach or fingering knives or thinking too much
about that man who turned my insides cold
from inside of his car.
because this has to be happy.
this has to be what happy feels like.
it feels like god gave me a vodka bottle
filled with nature and people and oceans and deserts and seas,
cause see, it feels like i'm drunk on life.
i have this nervous habit of scratching holes in my skin
and my mother says it's because
i'm trying to find something beautiful inside me.
she said i need a psychiatrist.
my friend asked me if i needed itching crème.
i keep laughing about stuff that's probably not funny.
i don't want it to rain anymore.
used to, i liked the rain,
because if i squinted, all the lines would be blurred.
Monologue"I could tell you that I do this because I'm insane, because God is in my head, because I go about my business with a thousand avenging angels conducting a symphony of holy amorality, directing my every move. Because organized crime killed my father, raped my mother, and tortured my sister, and that they had all this coming to them. That I do this because I like it; because I like to kill, and that I'm no more alive than when I stand there looking down on them, willing the light to go out of their life, staring down at their eyes so that I can watch--so that I can feel them die. Because I revel in it. Because I'm lost. Because I wasn't breast-fed or because society wouldn't have me or that I was abused, scorned and hated. That life was cruel and God disowned me.Monologue9 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
That I never watched a violent movie in my life and that my parents protected me and nurtured me too much, and when I saw
Bambi's mom get murdered in cold blood, it unhinged my mind. That Disney walked away with my soul and tha