To Be Different1. The First Scientists
A single flame burned in the night.
After a hundred thousand years of avoiding it in fear, one man approached.
Others ran from him in shock
Claimed it was death to touch the flame
But they were silenced as he held the torch aloft
Into the darkness he brought the light, and into the cold he brought the warmth.
A single grain grew in the soil.
After a hundred thousand years of destroying it in ignorance, one man approached.
Others stood around in surprise
They claimed it was a waste.
But they were silenced when more began to rise.
Into the wild he brought order, and into a world of hunger, he brought food.
But if the myths tell us true
Then Prometheus was bound in pain
For challenging the dark with light
And challenging the gods with the flame
Cain was banished from his lands
His gifts ignored and disgraced
For challenging the hunter with his grain
And natural chaos with order
The Light of God was cast from heaven
And will always be condemned
For the good it broug
The Writer and His MuseThe Writer lay quietly in his bed. Rest was hard to come by. Vivid images filled his mind, ideas which blinked and twirled in the darkness before fading away, never to be seen again. As always, in the beginning he could control them, but they spiraled out of his grasp and took on lives of their own. He no longer had any say. They simply went where they intended and created their own paths. Slowly he drifted off amidst the stories being told around him. The images slowed, sleep was coming. Soon he was unconscious.The Writer and His Muse1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
A sharp kick to the stomach woke him up. He grunted and clutched his gut.
“Come on, come on, get up. It is time.”
The Writer looked up to see Muse standing over him. “Don’t make me kick you again! I said it’s time to write.”
“What? I don’t want to write now! Its 3 in the morning!”
“As if you have any say. You know how this works slave. I won’t let you sleep until you obey me. Now get up!” Muse raised his f
A Little ThoughtThere was a little thought in my headA Little Thought1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A tiny idea with outlines undefined
But it wasn’t long before its roots spread
And it crawled in every corner of my mind.
It whispered things that I pretended not to hear
Then it made a mess of my already deluded brain
And led my actions as a skilled puppeteer
With thin threads stronger than an iron chain.
Soon it showed itself in its whole beautiful bipolarity
I dug my nails deep into my lips to chase it away
But after a few seconds gone would be the painful clarity
I’d lure it back, staring at the lines and observe their play.
It’s the thought that sings soft lullabies until the dreams come
And you continue to haunt me even when I’m asleep
So when I wake up my heart plays like a drum
Nothing I do seems to scare this confusion so deep.
I both hate and love the power you have over me
I’m terrified of the feeling I’m getting, that I am incomplete
I feel as if I need a mind wipe to once again be free
But then I wou
A Colourful WorldOnce we all had coloursA Colourful World1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yellows, blues and oranges
Greens, whites and tan
Pink, purple, and cream
Violet, brown, and black
Life was good,
Life was peaceful
And freedom reigned
But some began to wonder
If good was good enough
To remove the colourful stains
All the blacks were chained
Life continued as before
For those not black there was more
But the blues wanted to explore
And so were put behind locked doors
The greens they said were fine enough
But their ways were a bit rough
No more running around in the buff
Be like us, follow our bluff
The pinks took pity more than hate
And classes made to change their ways
Their colour was not bound in fate
Act like us they all would say
Violets could live their lives
But change their colours or face the knives
While the browns were denied their wives
So with them their ways would die
The yellows were sick the doctors said
And gave them pills that made them red
While reds were locked behind closed doors
For their safety chained to f
.I have fallen in love with a boy who keeps a notebook..1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I see him, from the corner of my eyes, drafting lines of poetry.
Sometimes he draws the stars, and all the moons of Saturn, and the lines of my face.
He fears the day the pages will run blank.
But I know they will never.
The Only WayWhen I took this pathThe Only Way1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I knew not where it led
I followed it steadily
Not watching where I stepped
But what seemed strait was twisted
And though the path seemed light
Darkness hid roots and rocks
Shadows blocked my eyes
And onward I stumbled
Till, crippled by the path
I cannot find my way
Back to where I've been before
And now alone I find myself
Where nothing more can grow
No paths divulge in front of me
There is only one way to go
The path suddenly seems narrow
Closed in on all sides
Claustrophobic I am sickened
And now I cannot breath
The path ahead is blackened
And nothing good can come
Of following it forever
But it’s the only one
The forest around me is frightening
Dark and majestic as can be
But it seems the only way
That I can somehow be free
So into the trees I run
Toward freedom I believe
But the vines soon grab a hold of me
And lift me off my feet
They carry me back to the path
And once again I hide
In the brightened daylight
Of the only path I know
I cry out in panic
UntitledThe said and the unsaidUntitled1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Are speaking with each other
With voices like glass hidden in ice.
And wit lost to molten tongues
Broken recordIf this was a fairy tale,Broken record1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'd like to be your mirror on the wall.
That way, maybe when I tell you that you're the fairest in the land
Instead of the ugly, wicked queen you think you are
You'll believe me.
If you I were your teacher and you my pupil,
The subject would be astronomy
And I'd emphasize how we are all made of star dust.
That way, every night, when you look up at your brothers and sisters
You'd know how brilliant you are.
I am a friend
And from this distance, all I can offer are my words.
So I do.
Of course there are days where I wish I could offer more
Or that I wasn't repeating myself over and over
"You are smart"
"You are pretty"
"You are a good person"
Like a broken record
Hopefully, a day will come
When out of the blue
You find yourself humming along
Insecurity, or EnvelopesI know that I could never write such crystalline words,Insecurity, or Envelopes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
That shine in innocence.
To bring letters together,
I cannot create the words people seek.
Are you proud of me still?
How my fingers create the woven threads of magical letters,
Why still I turn to much greater, much more faithful lyrics.
Paper and pencils,
Typing digital versions of my imagination.
I hate how I can never
Create such beautiful words.
Song of a Serial KillerThis is the song of a murderer—Song of a Serial Killer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A tale told in terrorized screams of the dead.
From a blood splattered
File of sins,
A question is wondered outloud:
“Who died first?”
Filled with either:
The bodies were piled in morgues.
Silently walking through the streets,
Staking his/her soon to be
His/her identity is unknown
As it is hidden by
A media-crafted mask.
Whenever who asks
Why didn’t they stop it,
Their response is:
“It’s all your fault.”
This is a tale of a murderer,
Sung of fear and hatred.
To finally be powered for once.
People ask, “Who is he/she?”
While no one asks,
“Why did he/she do it?”
This is a fairytale of
Horror, torment, and
No happy endings.
A song of blood and terror
Sung by a mad man/woman whose
First victim himself/herself—
A homicide of his/her
“What is my purpose here,
Living as a crooked man/woman?”
Good Morrow my love."Good morrow my lady", he says with a grinGood Morrow my love.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
"you look radiant, beautiful, sweet young thing"
Sir moves the chair out, for her to sit on
he takes a seat ...and in runs his son!.
"Leave at once boy! I'm busy, can't you see?"
lady glances up at Sir, while drinking her tea
the boy lowers his head, walks away neglected
"don't take him for granted, he will be affected."
Shocked, Sir roars ––"you do speak freely!"
Offended, lady replies––"you do host bleakly."
Sir stares at her, in her big beautiful eyes,
he wipes his mouth clean, and slams his thigh!
Lady stands up, and says her goodbyes––
"I shouldn't have come, I see past your disguise"
Sir stands up straight, "no, stay... please...
I wanted to talk, do sit, be at ease"––
Yes, she replies, "you wanted to talk––
I came for the same reason, not merely to gawk."
"You want your women silent… and apparently dull––
you, dear sir, have looked upon the wrong girl.
I am st
LibertyI heard their screams,Liberty1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Their rampant shouts.
To save their dreams,
To end their doubts.
Raise your flags,
And as well your glass.
We'll now run mad,
We'll save the mass.
Survival be not my number one,
But death be what I want.
Because of what in past I'd done,
My corpse will lie in roses blanc.
Be not of beauty,
Nor fame, nor love
Be not of rage,
Not pain, nor blood
But to die in revolution,
To create an evolution
To die knowing I'ave cured the world,
In refuge stays each boy and girl
Need me no thanks,
Need me no rank,
I'm proud I've reached my aptitude.
So here my final words will ring,
In my roses white I sing,
'The world is free,
but free not thee!
This is what we call our liberty!'
Life RuinerLook around you, dear girl. Do you see what you've done?Life Ruiner1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You've torn them to pieces in this battle you think you've won.
But, in reality, you're going nowhere. You haven't moved a bit.
And as you think you're moving forward, you yield another hit.
You try to slam them down, but they take the higher road.
So you look for another chance, time not well bestowed.
They've gone the opposite direction and left you far behind.
But in their lives you still think you've got your fingers intertwined.
You try and try and try again, but they just will not come around.
And as anger pumps through your veins, you secretly tear them down.
Now they're drowning in the misery you've set for them, trying to figure out why
For they've done nothing but leave you alone in your life, a life that's one big lie.
And all you can do is sit back and laugh, as the town points out their flaws.
All because you started a rumor, with no apparent cause.
So tell me, dear girl, do you really like what
Making Sense is OverratedSmoke like a fish and drink like a chimney.Making Sense is Overrated6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Say the wrong thing twice but everybody feels me.
Fly like a stone and sink like a bird.
I'm not making sense but it's not what you've heard.
Black as day in the bright of night.
I'm not taking it back if what I said was right.
Making sense is overrated.
If life's a game then yeah I've played it.
Being understood is complicated.
Like finding a drawing forgetting you made it.
"No life without love" can't be debated.
Being alone I just keep turning pages.
Bleed like a blade and cut like a pig.
The acts were wrong but it's not what I did.
Hard as sin while being sweet as stone.
It' won't make sense if the line's still broke.
Rooted like the wind and run like a tree.
No one's asking "what" if none of us can breathe.
It's hard to say what I know.
Like having the answer but losing all hope.
It's easy living being made of stone.
If this is where my heart is where's my home?
Chances appear like the wind blows.
If you're forgetting me then I've become
Wildflower HoneyYou know the onesWildflower Honey1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
They grow over
By that big old willow tree
In a little cluster
Like little guardians
Whispering at the base of the tree trunk
They can be wildflowers
With honey coloured petals
Or a honey-suckle wildflower
Or perhaps a honey scented wildflower?
The possibilities are really quite endless
When you have
A Wildflower Honey
This HourWhy is it always now,This Hour1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
In my hour of need,
When I need all my wits,
All my brain cells,
Why always now?
I cannot think,
I cannot breathe,
I cannot move,
Why will it not stop?
I wish more than anything,
For it to end!
Why is it always now,
In my hour of need,
Nations of Promise.There comes a protest,Nations of Promise.1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
a deafening roar of voices,
defiant and righteous.
But the walls of silence greet them,
finely dressed in khaki shades of green
with tasers and guns,
they lock their voices away.
Under the broken sky,
nations built on promises
roam under darkness' shelter.
Listening to other's wisdom,
there are some who think only of themselves,
the way in which to make most profit
off the lives they reign.
People bowed and prayed,
to the gods they hated,
begging to the silence of the world.
But nations made of broken promises,
dirtied with politician's slippery lies
and blooming out of bloodied land and money,
have no voices they need to hear.
Do you hear the child crying?
The starvation gnawing,
the gunshots blasting grief away.
Hands coated with the blood of innocence,
victims flee together,
sworn with the rust colored stains,
their own blood, reminding them of humanity.
WORDLESS WORDSThe writer attempts to writeWORDLESS WORDS1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Describing the indescribable
Limiting the limitless
Naming the nameless
A thousand lines of ink
Written a thousand ways
Cannot describe love
The abstract emptiness
The beauty of colour
The sorrow of loneliness
Burn every book
Destroy every line
An alphabet of ashes
Meaningless is knowledge
Worthless are words
Reading what is written
In ignorance remain
The subtle reality
Beyond all language
My Birthday Is Rather SpecialMy birthday is rather special time of year. In the day, there are good wishes, parties and a good time to be had by all. In the night however, events tend to take a rather morbid turn…My Birthday Is Rather Special1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I prepared this year, as I always do: A chilled bottle of wine hidden out of sight and a pair of large candles; both of which would last the night.
I would then take a seat on the sparse wooden floor of my storage room and wait. Always I would end up waiting as the minutes ticked on by, for my companion was never early nor was she ever late. Indeed, she would only arrive precisely when she was meant to.
I peered into the shadows as time wore on by. The flickering light of the candles did little to aid my vision, filling it with the blissful pirouettes of the dancing shadows. I was always nervous during these times and indeed, I had reason to be. Most would have lived their lives without a spiritual encounter. Most should be glad to be a part of the boring world. For in a world without incid
Noctis NocturneNoctis is an immortal being with forever bleeding eyesNoctis Nocturne10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She is cursed by the moon, forced to roam the world eternally
I swear she is humming to the moon as she cries
Beseeching to return to sweet mortality
To be able die
To relieve herself of this never-ending pain
To the moon, she carols:
“For a hundred thousand years I have been wandering the universe
These eyes, these wounds, this harrowing sting
Please, I beg of you, end this evil, undying curse
Death, please give me my wedding ring.”
The moon does not heed her decaying carcass
Noctis remains in her endless wander
You can sometimes hear her moaning in the darkness
Night falls from the moon, shadowing her
She is the howling wind.
How to Write a BestsellerYou know that zone that writers flock to,How to Write a Bestseller9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
The complete nirvana of the soul,
ecstasy of the mind,
and silence of the world
that must be achieved for the words to kiss the paper?
The negotiations with the thermostat,
the perfect explosion of feng shui
assaulting the imprints of furniture in the carpet
as the tables and chairs are dragged across the room;
Perhaps you can only write cross-legged or upside down
until the creative juices drown your brain
and you are swimming in inspiration;
or maybe you need the window open to let the sun in,
or shut to keep it from escaping;
You might require your loved one's kiss,
an onslaught of passion glued to your lips
like cheap rhinestones and smooth red wine,
so the phrases tickle your pen as he strokes your hair...
but that's just a distraction, isn't it?
So, do you know it, my fellow writers?
The threshold between scraping for juicy words
from the marrow of an empty jar
and picking them from the plethora of inspiration
flowing around you?
What Am I? Lingering in that photo...What Am I?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In that simple shot
I look, and I see a woman.
I am not a woman.
I have never worked for a lifestyle,
given birth for an allowance
I have never truly loved a man.
I am not a woman.
I do not have the means to
to wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)
and move, move, move
until I reach a place of
I am not a woman.
Sometimes, I still take the
of my childhood and
place it on shoulders of
Sometimes, I remember the way
lifting builds me up.
But I am not a woman.
Lingering in that photo...
A wisdom of some sort
has trickled into my features
I see glimpses of it now.
In that momentary shot,
I look, and see memories there
In the darkness of my eyes.
In the taming of my smile.
In the strain stretched over my brow.
I am not a child.
And I am not a woman.
The Rulers of the SeasonsAphrodite, my dearest epitome of springtime,The Rulers of the Seasons1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Quaffing flowery flares as your dark storm clouds climb
Selfish vanities flooding April's chromaticity out
Ere Apollo's hideous glare shines your May bleached with drought
The golden summer that Ra mercilessly allows
Oppressing heat beats the precious sweat off of your brow
For every child caught giggling with sunlight in their lungs
Another meets black Anubis with thirst on their tongues
As Morigan's autumn, swift as the crow flies
Allowing leaves to stop their begging to die
Knowing change is welcome, killing all she holds dear
Until even Bile`'s cold grasp starts shaking with fear
Loki breathes laughter with a wintery chill
Freezing time with a blanket and life going still
His mischievous snowflakes dancing o'er the land
Until they are melted by Freyja’s impassioned hand
A Daughter Now BegottenIf reason could challenge the knowledge of infinity,A Daughter Now Begotten11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the blindness of justice;
should we not call ourselves Gods...
And Gods are we not, for if justice were truly blind,
it would hold the same fate for rich and poor alike...
Under the celestial heaven that shines above,
the beggar's crying face and the rich man's arrogant gaze...
So of The Creation we are, living in throngs of solitudes....
Each solitude made torturous by the lust for more money,
yet eased by the kindness of strangers and the love of God...
Which power of change is made,
unto glory from a prisoner down trod,
to a man of faith, who helped a dying woman in need till loving eclipse.
A daughter now begotten, of starry eyes and golden sun ray locks...
Cherished by God and adored by both parents,
though mother soon to be with the Creator Almighty,
this daughter grows up knowing the brittleness of mortality...
...As her lips of red rose blossoms,
her heart aches as the mourning moon that hides behind the bosom of clouds...
HimIt was coming to kill them all. The Weapon, far more powerful than they could imagine was coming with faster than they could calculated. Its effects would be devastating, the toll would be horrid, and there was nothing the People could do. Nothing, except wait and hope that He would come.Him2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One and all, the People’s voices rose to the heavens, crying for help. They knew He could save him, they knew He had saved them before. He would return, they told themselves. All we have to do is wait.
The Weapon was drawing nearer. Soon it would be upon them. Doubt began to spread. What if He didn’t come? What if He couldn’t do anything? But they assured themselves, He had always come before, He would come again.
And then suddenly, to the amazement of the thousands below, a figure appeared over the horizon. He had come. Dashing, glorious and brave, He was here. High above the sky He flew. He grabbed the Weapon in his arms and wrestled with it. His might was boundless, his strength i