Simple Acts of LoveThey say it's easySimple Acts of Love10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To take things for granted,
But I've always found
The most joy and meaning
In simple acts of love,
Like whenever Nanna
My head in her hands
And washes my hair,
Since I can't do it myself.
Nervous MovementYou're a dime a dozen in a sea of billions.Nervous Movement1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Individuality has no significance in numbers so vast.
And while this fact may make looking forward hard
we can't keep living in the past.
You're a nervous movement in a freeze frame scene.
Steady hands won't help hold up such a fragile act.
And while you take your time keeping character
you fake what you can't take back.
With nothing more than a thought we form our actions
and this is where we extinguish the lie they tried to invent.
The lie that we painted our lives without passion
well conclusions are useless with no attempt to commence.
You're a song I can't name stuck in my head.
I've listened to you before and probably will again.
And while I can hum the melody all day long waiting
for it to hit me I still won't know where you've been.
You're a gust that has never changed direction.
Nothing can touch you you're only felt as you brush skin.
And while you can't be stopped nothing lasts
nothing escapes time or an end not even the wind
Unwilling AwakenessThe sea never falls asleepUnwilling Awakeness1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it shuffles, half drowning
in its own unspent dreams,
trying desperately to stay afloat
its glittering eyes reflecting stars
as it shudders and groans
under the weight of another day,
as the sun turns to treacle
and spreads itself thinly
across its ridge-d-back.
It tumbles and trips over,
clumsy in its deprivation state,
and tosses its limbs, its head,
over and again. It stays awake.
It can't afford to dream of rain
drumming upon its lonely door
to accompany it for eternity,
No. The sea can never fall asleep.
Missing GirlsMissing GirlsMissing Girls2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
These snippets of girls, broadsheets, ballads,
a one paragraph whisper in a smudged newspaper
beneath an ad for a pizza, two for one.
But they are singular despite their raveled tangled names.
They are still awake, a litany of how young girls die.
Delia is gone, 14 years old, cinched and muzzled with rope,
two bullets. He was pardoned. She sleeps somewhere unknown.
Her bones whisper to the unknowns. At least Delia has a song.
Johnny Cash sang about her, the Man in Black.
Did they bury her in black, a thrift store school dress
with sweat stained underarms?
They tell Delia of truck stop stores gaudy with harsh beaten light,
racks of DVDs of Country’s greatest hits. A bus stop smelling of aged urine.
He promised he would leave his wife, girlfriend, so many words.
In a church bathroom. He had a kind face.
Grainy posters stapled to telephone poles, taped to smudged windows,
small store billboards cramped with fading pleas
amidst ads for babysitting, massage and guitar le
Pocket UniverseI can smell the typewriters beneath your skinPocket Universe2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
metallic, halting, smudged vibrato
wavering note stretched out far beyond
the edge of the universe tucked in your front pocket
breathing out in time with your heartbeats.
All along the wall I find notebook pages
old teabags hung for too long, green flakes whirling
while you sit in the lean of the willow tree
and watch the play that is my life
chew the scenery; the stage collapses with a groan.
You pull your scarf in
and wrap the scars in burnt umber
while the show goes on
For I'm a graveyard lurker.my veins are blueFor I'm a graveyard lurker.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with restless wanting;
your ghost fingers
at this untamed
stop loving me
like that, darling,
kissing the stars
from my throat.
if i can’t have the sky,
i will howl my laughter
to the earth,
planting a home
in the dirt
beneath my claws.
I'll forever beWhen weeping willows thread your sky,I'll forever be3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rest on my heavy shoulder, I'll let you cry.
When mangled troubles block your way,
Sit patiently with me, I'll let you stay.
When life has showered you in sorrow and pain,
Lie in my arms; I'll shelter you from rain.
When you are bone weary and have lost all fight,
I'll pick you up, I'll hold you tight.
When your secluded soul has gone astray
We will board a boat to search for it, and sail away.
When you are stiffly tired of combing the seven seas,
Leap off-board, grab my hand and we will flee.
When your burdens whip and weigh you down,
I will hold you high, and never let you hit the ground.
When I'm the one who tosses, turns and can't be free,
My dear, please promise you'll do the same for me.
Merc Vs. SOFIn the last few months I have heard and seen a very deluded idea that's been formed over the last 40-years, maybe even 50-years, since the 1960s. Common sense in not used by these people, who simply believe that all that fight as "mercenaries" would only "fight for the highest bidder". This is inaccurate, for the fact that many of the adventurers, when it started heavily in Africa in particular, who have been inaccurately described as mercenaries but were in fact ideologically motivated to support particular governments. Those men took sides.Merc Vs. SOF4 years ago in Settings More Like This
There is a very serious line separating the usual mercenary from men that are called "soldiers of fortune". Men who didn't do the job solely for money or fight for any particular power, but did the job for adventure and sometimes even to help those on the battlegrounds who were innocents, and had nothing to do with the conflicts. The term "mercenary", by definition, is "somebody who will serve in any army in which there is profit". Which ma
tell a liei. rivers are stronger than oceans despite their sizetell a lie2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they tumble through sharp mountains
but they never, ever stop
ii. i can rush and pick up sediments
and disperse them where i wish
iii. i'm lying -
i knew you saw it anyway,
there's seaweed in my fingernails
and salt on my breath
Left 4 tickles. Chapters 1 - 3(This is a fanfic about Left for dead, my favorite game!)Left 4 tickles. Chapters 1 - 32 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Zoey hid behind a trash can careful that no zombies were to see her, she remembered waking up this morning, at first it seemed like any other day. Zoey was in bed, in she and her mother's apartment on the fifth floor. She woke up and climbed out of bed, she was in her bra and panties only. She got dressed in her normal cloths, but didn't put her shoes or socks on. She opened her door and walked down the hall, the hardwood floor cold on her smooth bare soles. She entered the kitchen where her mother normaly made pancakes in the morning. She saw her mother laying on the ground, she let out a loud scream, responding to this her mother slowly got to her feet, her mothers skin was far more pale than normal, her mother let out a blood freezing shreek and ran at Zoey tackling her to the ground. "Mom what are you doing?! Whats wrong with you!?" Zoey yelled as her mother bit at her neck.
Crimson Skies2034 June 19thCrimson Skies7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
A pair of E-5 Dark Star AWACs planes and a total of 20 fighter jets held position over the Texas Louisiana border. The radar operator gazed over the screens and controls of his station on the E-5 Dark Star air waves for communications from the US Air force. The man next to him monitored passive radar waves and tried to pin point the location of F-22 Raptors.
“Think they’ll fire on us non combatant aircraft?” asked one of the systems operators.
“That is rhetorical right? I mean the liberals just got done massacring all those civilians in Ohio, but to be honest we are out of missile range, behind the pipeline and behind 30 fighters.” Said the radar operator before his screen went on alert. “ALL FIGHRTERS INCOMING F-22 RAPTORS, 15 AIRCRAFT ON APROACH IN GRIDS ECHO 1 THROUGH ALPHA 9 HEADING SOUTH WEST, APROACH VECTORS TARGET IS THE PIPE LINE INTERECPT HOSTILES BEFORE THEY MAKE IT TO THE RED ZONE All FIGHTERS ENGAGE. ESTITMATED RANGE OF MIS
Letter to BeethovenPerhaps it was not your aim after allLetter to Beethoven9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
To describe the moon to a blind person,
But when I hear Piano Sonata No. 14,
The splendid, yet lonely, moonlit night
When you wept
For the loss of your hearing
And where I now sometimes weep
For the loss of my sight.
It's a shame you grew tired
Of people loving that song so much.
I wish I could have told you
That it was because you managed
To derive beauty from pain.
DeterminationFew would expectDetermination10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That Melissa could carry
The weight of worlds on her shoulders,
But when she recovered
From her worst crash landing yet,
She didn't bother to walk--
She opened her wings
And soared instead.
the man who offered peaches to the mooni was meant to be a paintingthe man who offered peaches to the moon1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a world where crocodile glitter
and the taste of sequins greet
each other hustling on the corner
i forgot my path club-
diving in the night
all the pools were
spiked i hoped
someday the starlit highway would explode
and it would rain
i went back to the place where we first met,
my torn suit and the worst of business attire,
my wet palms and the rustiest of escape
i went back to the place where we met
and your cheeks were so round
and glistening with fat
i went back to our pentagonal arena,
cctv tinsel pythons were glaring at me
and i heard "streams of garbage will finish these streets"
i had grown out of peach fuzz but you
seemed so naive then
i stretched out my hand
and the stars,
and the stars took out their tiny cameras
Just Have a Good DayBy Marshall Norman McCarthyJust Have a Good Day1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
Just have a good day. He dragged the razor across his cheek, wincing as it tore instead of cut. Just have a good day. Were his eyes always this sunken; were the bags beneath them always so dark? Just have a good day. How was his wife still able to look at him with that old spark, the one that hadn't guttered out over the years?
'Just have a good day,' he repeated his mantra to his reflection, putting down the razor and checking his work. Free of stubble, yet his face seemed haggard, worn; another day's journey towards the end.
All his life he'd been told that men age gracefully, that they get better, more handsome with age. Thinking on that as he scrutinized the ever unfamiliar man in the mirror, he believed he understood now the word conceit.
'Just have a good day.' Now he was speaking to the cat, who sat on the little table near the front door watching him pull on his coat. How many times had he wished, in childish fashio
It Is In The DoingI know what she thinks I do in the bathroom when I take a little too long,It Is In The Doing1 year ago in Drama More Like This
when I'm a little too quiet.
After all, I'm a healthy teenager with access to the internet, what else could I be doing?
She knocks on the door and asks, "Hey, what are you doing?"
Smile, my dear reader.
Chuckle a little.
Sometimes she's right.
But sometimes... Sometimes I'm on the floor or pressed hard against the wall, my heart a little too fast, my breath a little too quick... my chest a little too tight as I try to keep the sound of steadily falling tears from echoing beyond the door. As I try to keep pretences to the outside world that I do not cry, that nothing hurts me. That always, always, always, I do not fall to the madness of emotions. I have no control of my life but dammit, I am in control of myself.
But every now and then the rigid hold of apathy breaks and I am reduced to this. Crying in a place where no one will hear my tears. Where no one will hear how desperate I am. How broken.
Broken seems lik
A Rainy Night on 17thGlitter on every surface.A Rainy Night on 17th1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate the damp way it shines
& reminds me of those pretty things
that break your heart sometimes.
It convolutes my fingerprints
as I lay them on your door,
you'll never know that I was here
or what I came here for.
It'll shimmer 'til it rains again,
then wash down to the ground
but even if I was six feet away
you wouldn't know I'd been around.
The rain purifies this suffering
and washes me clean of crimes
& reminds me of those pretty things
that break your heart sometimes.
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288Vanguard, Chapter 1: Duncan1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
Cette reineCette reine2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
- Pourriez-vous faire attention ?!...
Cette phrase s’adressait à un jeune homme quelque peu déconnecté de la réalité qui s’avançait en tanguant, un plateau de bois surchargé de chopes de bière difficilement maintenu en équilibre… Mais bien sûr, la remarque du sénéchal Ké se perdit aussitôt au milieu des rires et éclats de voix divers générés pas la foule.
D’un haussement d’épaules, l’homme oublia l’incident. Après tout, il n’y avait pas de place pour le mécontentement le jour ou son frère de lait se mariait ! Grogner était une perte de temps, mieux valait profiter des musiques endiablées que les musiciens créaient sur le vif, de la boisson, de la joie ambiante… Et des filles, bien entendu. Car ainsi comme Ké n’avait pas manqué de le remarque
Review: Dream Theater's 'The Enemy inside'Review: Dream Theater's 'The Enemy inside'2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Band: Dream Theater
Genre: Progressive Metal.
Single: The Enemy Inside (6:17)
A band can truly impress its fans, either after they've returned after a break-up/hiatus or can take a long,long,LONG while to bring back something new to bring back fans (I'm looking at you, Linkin Park!). But one band...Dream Theater, came back with a vengeance.
Dream Theater had really not left metal fans surprised with their 2011 release of 'A Dramatic Turn of Events' following the departure of their drummer and leader, Mike Portnoy. While the album was well done, and Portnoy's replacement, Mike Mangini, really helped fill in the gaps with his own unique style, it didn't truly leave an impression and felt more like a 'bittersweet' album. In fact, personally, it felt like 'Dream Theater's Opeth's Watershed'. Nothing impressive, but still good.
When this new single 'The Enemy Inside', from the upcoming Self titled album has really,REALLY left me surprised. The song had a huge edge to it and utilizes
painkiller.you show me a bottle of advil. you say to me, “if i swallow all these pain pills at once, do you think i’ll finally stop hurting?”painkiller.2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
“you shouldn’t joke about that,” i say.
in retrospect, i should have been grateful.
it was the only joke you’d ever told where i wasn’t the punchline.
i’d like to write your name in a bathroom stall. i’d like to come back every day, checking for tears in sharpie’d letters. for a “he’s such a scumbag.” for a “you’re not alone.”
i guess i want to think that you’re a criminal mastermind. i want to think that you’re a serial heartbreaker. i want to think out there, somewhere, is somebody else like me, who you’ve hurt.
(i know you’re none of those things. i know that you’re just a boy – and, really.
that's the saddest part of all.)
i taught you how to stargaze, and how to uncross your arms and let people in
It is 9 in the afternoon& I have forgottenIt is 9 in the afternoon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how to write in poetics-
tongue kissed & gaping like
a siren missing from her sea.
I have been coughing up black
for days. Unable to clean the taste
from my mouth, these broken
typewriter keys sewn into my
fingertips scream something fierce.
They ache with longing
to tell of a story
that left them
for a better high
a story that never deserved
to make a home under the skin,
to crawl breech through an
-& out through the wrists
of young girls much too ripe
to fall from their beds.
I am so damn tired
of looking over railings
& wondering what
it would feel like
Don't StepDon’t step to meDon't Step2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I may wear a frilly pink skirt, but I will TAKE YOU in a fight.
Not even because I’m angry, I could just use the exercise
In humility, so throw me your best haymaker, and I’ll take it, because I’ve never had a bone too beautiful to break it. No, throw me to the ground and I’ll memorise the sound because it’s profound that you think your pride can push ME around.
They say words are the way to make a man break. But while you’re focussed on finding a phrase to prove your ego more great, you won’t see my hands palming your hate. Making mental memos of words, mementos of the curse. Those things you think will hurt me that I’ll later ridicule in verse.
Don’t step to me, no.
In fact, you should fear me, my foe.
I fight like a COWARD.
I fight like I fear every moment of pain, like a boy whose stuffed tiger was taken away, like no eye-gouge is too cruel for someone in my way. This isn’t a weekend spar, a
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey - ReviewSo then, the Hobbit movie. This could well be the most high-profile and famous title I've ever done a review for. A film that has been eagerly awaited by millions of people across the globe and serves as a follow-up to the famous trilogy made by Peter Jackson over a decade ago. Let's get to it then.The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey - Review2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
The Hobbit is a story set in the fictional world of Middle-Earth and features a Hobbit by the name of Bilbo Baggins (played by Martin Freeman), who enjoys the comforts of life and would never dream of doing anything unexpected. Then one day, a wizard named Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen) comes to him and invites him to join on a quest not only with Gandalf but with a company of twelve dwarves, led by Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage). Although reluctant, Bilbo agrees to go with them and they travel across the land in the hopes of re-taking the ancient dwarf kingdom of Erebor from the clutches of the evil dragon, Smaug.
I'd like to get it out in the open right now that I am a massive Tol