UntitledI just want to rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I’ve pushed too many people away
And realized that no matter how much I deny myself
They are my foundation
And I’ve now collapsed inside myself
I just want to rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
It’s all my fault
They left me first
It’s all my fault
I just want to rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Why should I bother making friends
No matter how many tales we weave
They all end in the same dark manner
I just want to rock back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth
Fifty Two WeeksFifty two weeks ago, I visited my favorite place on my birthday. A meadow by a lake at the edge of a forest. Away from civilization, where I could be in tune with peace and serenity instead of the usual clamor of traffic and work.Fifty Two Weeks1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Crouching low, I snapped pictures of a green snake laying eggs.
I angled myself and the lens so that the lighting brushes its smooth, scaly skin in just the right way. It was a little hard to get the perfect shot with all the grasses in the way. Drops of dew surrounded it, creating a sort of rainbow effect from the rays of the waking sun.
I kind of liked the outcome of the pictures.
Five weeks later I returned. The mother snake lingered by the den, perhaps to protect, if not just to supervise it. She was small to begin with, but at the time she looked even smaller. Starving. I took some pictures as its beady eyes gazed at me somewhat semidetached.
I wasn’t sure if
Siren's CallDistant calls I hear and ISiren's Call2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Watch you swim away to the echoes
Further and further the depths you go
And I fought, fought against
The winds, the storm
The deep green waves sloshing about
Fought against my own call
Calling me, luring me to
Give you up
I grabbed your shoulder and as you
Turned around and smiled
I saw the broken glass inside your eyes
I let you go, you swam away
And I let the deep blue-green waves
Wash away my translucent tears
71. ObsessionAbout nymphs, I know without fails71. Obsession2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You have probably heard countless tales
Already, so why should you hear mine?
What could I possibly refine?
Now I'm not Ovid, I admit
(Would be sev'ral cent'ries late for it)
But stay and listen to my story
I promise you won't be sorry.
Let me tell you not about love
Surely you know enoug tales thereof
So how about obsession instead
And a night painted crimson red?
Once upon a time it began
When during a full moon night a man
Could not rest in Morpheus's arms
He wandered off under sev'ral charms.
Not awake he followed the trail
Laid to his feet by Selene, the pale.
Into the mountains she guided him
Where the world was so rough and grim.
The feet left bloody stains behind
Tracks which an Oread did then find.
She follwed them to the mountain's top
Where finally the man did stop.
The mortal man she did pity
So alone and far from his city
Caught in this obsession for the moon
Unaware his feet turned maroon.
The nymph thought and worried her brain
siren boyonce upon a november,siren boy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i fell in love with your eyes
(you laughed quietly at my pride, and pressed your lips into my neck anyway) please,
breathe me in again, hold me close, even if only for a second
or do i need to imagine you there
because the winds do rip and the storms do tear
and you, you were always my shelter but today i'm drowning in your arms so
the glass will only break
eternitydryad boneseternity2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
carve soil with their
arching tiptoe roots
and sunrays filter
reaching fingertip twigs
spraysoaked naiad wrists
stroke passing banks
with pebble smiles
and breezes ripple
of greenglass tresses
and the rustle of the leaves echoes
Maybe I don't understand poetryMaybe I don’t understand the way itMaybe I don't understand poetry1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Connects the way a light brushes the flowers
With the gentle caress of a mother
Maybe I don’t understand the way it
Compares the rhythmic sway of the waves
To the beating of a heart
Or the way the words seem to
Shimmer and breathe
Creating a universe between the lines
Maybe I don’t have it in me
To explore the worlds hidden
Within this medium of art
Or maybe it’s a good thing
To not rationalize, nor comprehend
I know that I don’t get how
These words I myself typed out
Managed to make me change my mind
About quitting poetry
When Children...It breaks your heartWhen Children...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when children say
"I don't believe in fairies."
Don't lose your wings;
don't lose your head.
There's hope yet
for the future generations.
Forest air is different than
a salty sea breeze,
but you still feel more
high up in the trees.
It breaks your heart
when children stop
searching for magic
in every little spot.
Fluttering in flight
you touch the world
with hope and dreams
and the gift of peace of mind.
in our minds--
whether we want you or not.
It breaks your heart
when children won't
stop growing up.
On small thingsThe differenceOn small things2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is just a vow-
UntitledAdrift on lifeless ocean, aUntitled2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Devil in human skin gazed at
The starless skies
Wondering when it’ll even end
She looked in a mirror and saw
A maiden, neither fair nor frail
The shadow of the cocky grin she once
Wore to mask herself
Watching helplessly as she tore
Break down the castle walls she had
Once worked so hard to build
Sheltering her broken self inside
Crumbled stones, clouding dust
She has never been so lost
Blinded, confused, panicking
She couldn't even shed a tear
She sees shadows, silhouettes of
Those she once loved
Those who still love her so
They radiate light, and she took a step
TruthisTruth Contest - SirenListen... do you hear it?TruthisTruth Contest - Siren2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The voice of the ocean?
The call of the waves?
Beckoning you to it?
Do you hear them?
The people of the ocean.
The voices crying out for you.
Begging you... come to us.
Every night and day.
Do you hear their sweet melodies?
Voices like angels.
The sound of peace and happiness.
They are not real.
Or so they tell me.
They do not understand.
Do not hear and see them right.
They told me, I was wrong.
Told me to forget.
Ignore. Be blind.
They told me to fit in.
I do not.
But they taught me to sing.
Taught me how to swim.
Discover. To see.
Asked: "Do you want to join us?"
They lock me up.
Hide me from them.
As I scream for help and freedom.
They think, they can't reach me.
In dreams I see them.
Tails of gold and silver.
Hair like seaweed and sun.
I beg them to hold me.
One night I will flee.
Escape their clutches.
Return to my beloved ocean.
And join them once more.
This Is RealityShe lay on her back, looking up at the sky. The wind ran its fingers through her hair, softly whispering of the joys of flight. This was nothing new. She'd always dreamt of flying, of being whisked away, spinning wherever the wind blew.This Is Reality1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She knew she couldn't, of course. Humans didn't fly. They didn't have wings, and they were too heavy to simply float on the very air they breathed. Her shoulders, aching from the cold that seeped through the hard, immovable, earthbound stone reminded her of that. She had no wings, and she was too heavy to fly.
She did so want to fly.
She thought about the old, rotting, ivy-wreathed roof upon which she lay. The building that had been abandoned like a children's toy, left to rust in the night. She would not go like that, she vowed. She would not become nothing more than a decaying, crumbling wreck. She didn't want to become nothing more than a wizened pebble that dreamed it was a bird.
No, not that. Never that.
She might not be able to fly, but the wind p
BarrierIt surrounds meBarrier1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It keeps me "safe"
I created it
To protect myself
From the bullies
From my "friends"
It was necessary
It was the only way
And now I'm trapped
I can't leave this space
Nor break the barrier
And here I am
In my "happy" place
Prison BreakingGretta told me there were rabbits underneath the overgrown shrubs just outside my bedroom window. Baby rabbits, the kind that were hairless and pink. Gretta told me that their mama hadn’t come for days, and while it was natural, it was weird.Prison Breaking1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Mama hasn’t come home for several weeks now. The home is just the way it was when she touched it: the stove splotched with cooking stains, the carpet riddled with pine needles from two months ago, and even the cuckoo clock still needed rewinding. Gretta told me not to touch anything—to preserve it for her.
Yesterday, I escaped the quiet jail of my house while Gretta was working. She’s employed about a mile down the highway, at the Walmart. She used to go to college about an hour away, but lately, she hasn’t found time to go. She said that she misses it, that she regrets stepping out of the house only to find out she didn’t do anything she planned. I’ve learned though. I’m going to everything I’
Thoughts on online friends“Hello”Thoughts on online friends2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I could be holding a blade to my neck
“How are you today?”
I could be bleeding, tears rushing down my face
‘I’m fine, you?’
“I’m great! Thanks for asking!”
‘That’s good to hear, what happened?’
Now we can focus upon your happiness and not my sorrow
“Well, remember my crush? He kissed me!”
Your words were not daggers, so why did it feel like a part of me just died?
‘That’s great! What happened?!’
And as you tell me about your new beginning towards a happy ending, I would begin to
end my demise
And you wouldn’t even know
WritershipFind a messageWritership2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the bottle of regrets
brought at your feet by the mourning tide.
in the smudge of ink
left by a stranger lost as you are.
Stars already blinking
their yesterday light
upon your little island;
in the oceanic darkness.
Let the panic
fill your bloodstream,
let it steal your breath.
till the first line comes,
speaks to you
the voice of a mermaid
sweet and terrible
like the waves.
Forgotten by the world
trust the sand
with impossible letters,
trust the water
with impossible dreams.
Dear little oneBe still tormented little boy,Dear little one2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she's the one for you but
you can no longer call her name.
All your dreams have burned and expired
and you hate to go to sleep
not to see her haunt your nights
and revive a hope you tried hard to purge.
Everyday starts the same,
a quiet, innocent hey, but
behind it there's a ton
of words you no longer speak.
You took an unspoken vow
to keep it buried deep below
and pretend things are okay.
There are days when it hurts
too much to hold back the truth,
and you can't deal with the lump that lurks in your throat.
Oh little boy you wonder if she knows
how much you struggle
to keep your smile burning across your lips,
or how many times you swallow
your pride not to stir a war.
Maybe you're obsessed by now
and she's only playing along,
out of pity because you've lost it all.
LongingAsk me how many houses I have lived in:Longing2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I don't have enough fingers to show you the answer.
Surrey, British Columbia.
It is five in the morning,
my mother's contractions are so sudden
she nearly passes out in the shower;
two hours later she holds me in her arms.
My father is asleep somewhere,
his absence tastes like cranberry juice,
bitter, but I've gotten used to it.
The first house I lived in
had walls that changed colour
and texture every few months.
Perhaps this is why I love to travel,
I've been doing so since before I knew the word.
When I have a full hand of houses
I am familiar with lemonade and strangers.
I wear corduroy dresses with giggles
and convince landlords I'm a good girl.
The house we move into is large enough
for me to ride my tricycle indoors
when I'm left with a babysitter named Tracey
who prefers watching television instead of me.
Another couple lives in the basement beneath us,
they wear black leather and bad words.
Sarah, their da
Courting StarsThe long, red hair of his date swings softly in the cool night wind as they walk towards the door to her apartment. The moment of truth has come: if the female is pleased with his display of manliness she invites him into her home to combine genetics.Courting Stars1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It's a ridiculous notion. When he asked her out all she saw was a beautiful face under his choppy black hair and hardened grey eyes. She, of course, said yes in an instant, and now somehow believe the dinning choices of the evening and his freshly laundered designer linens are any sign of good character on his part.
"Would you like to come in?" The freckles and wavy hair give his date give a childish feeling, but her voice was deep and tougher than expected. It was what had intrigued him in the first place. As she waits for an answer, he notices the stars sparkling in the reflection of her eyes.
Memories of an older time flash through his mind. A time when the sky wasn't always so still, and the stars could take form and walk
FlamesFire burning strongFlames1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Laughing at the world
At my weakness
Mesmerizing and beautiful
Everything it touches
Shall turn to ashes
Harold, Call Your MotherHarold, call your mother. Douse those blue flames gutting your house first, though. Sit on the springs of what once was a couch and tell her everything’s fine. You owe her that much. She shouldn’t have to worry about you, you’re grown now, you can make your way in the world. The fire should have scared away the rats and roaches, that’s something, right? Watch the ghosts on your broken TV and sing their mad nursery rhymes; remember when you were a cowboy on a mop horse, and days lasted forever. Call your girlfriend and tell her you’re sorry, you want to get back together. All you have to do is nod every so often as she chatters away. You can do that. You can live. You can’t cook worth a damn, though. Buy some frozen dinners; the refrigerator is black but it still works. Eat, drink, live. You owe it to someone.Harold, Call Your Mother2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For a priceOnce upon time, there was a handsome prince who lived alone in a tower, guarded by three lions – he had grown there since his very tender age, for legend had it that he would grow to rule all kingdoms along with his Queen, if only a brave enough young woman could free him from his prison and claim his hand.For a price1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
But the young man did not wish to be freed, or to be wed; and so whenever, once every few years, a courageous lady managed to climb up to his tower and momentarily defeat the lions, he challenged her to a swordfight, and killed her if she lost.
For he had everything he needed there in his loneliness and peace; food he could hunt for, and his faithful felines brought back enough game for the four of them. A clear spring trickled down the stones nearby, and in winter there were birds, and stored provisions from the kind months, to survive on.
In clement times he would run and hunt and play with his animals, roam about the mountain and watch the clouds; in winter he would play mu