FaCe ThE StRaNgE CHAPTER ONEDally was riding the Hogwarts Express to Hogwarts with her best friend Edwart Cullen. She had just found out she was a witch and a vampire with Edward and now they were going to school to train to be better.FaCe ThE StRaNgE CHAPTER ONE6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Edward do you miss Bella? I asked
Grr I dont want to talk about Bella Edward said
Oh are you guys fighting? I asked.
She is just being a cunt!! he yelled She thinks I like you um I mean
Why would she say that? Dally asked.
Um well uh
KNOCK KNOCK!!! Suddenly there was a sound at the door of the trolly
I am going around with candy would you like to buy someone? came the voice from the door.
YES COME IN yelled Edward, he wanted a distraction.
The door slid open and in came a boy with big spiky black hair and black clothes and he had his arm wrapped up.
My name is Hiei he said, I am selling these candies to pay for my trip to Hogwarts
FaCe ThE StRaNgE CHAPTER TWODally sat in the common room or Ravenpaw sketching a picture of Hiei and thinking of his kiss. Suddenly se looks up at the fire in front of her and a face appeared!! The fire turned blue like water but it was fire and the eyes wee yellow.FaCe ThE StRaNgE CHAPTER TWO6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
hello said the fire
Mom? asked Dally
Jut then Mystique came out of the fire she was naked but she didnt have nipples.
now that you are a wizad I can give you my powers said mystique. She handed me an orb and suddenly the room turned colors
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH screamed Della. She was in a lot of pain and sufferage.
Then mystique disappeared leaving dally with a belt with an X on it. She was now a mutant.
Dally could feel a new rush hour of power in her organs. She tried it out and turned into a bat! Well I could already do that cuz Im a vampire lol she thought to herself, so ten she tried it out again and turned into a a demon chaos chao! A little spiky ball was above her head.
Between stones and crowsRemember darlingBetween stones and crows8 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The night painting the sky
In shades of dark and light
And you and me there
Sharing the beauty of it all?
Now its gone
Now its lost
No enchanting words
To bring back that forgotten world
All doomed forever more
Nothing could open that forgotten door
Tears caress the loving memories
Wounded to eternity
In depths of silence I fall
Screaming all the pain inside
Sharing all my sorrow with the skies
and the skies cry for me
The skies cry with me
When the night paints the sky
In shades of dark and light
The gods are weeping with me
I touch the reflection in the mirror
Hands that are not yours
Caressing the face that once was yours to touch
Blood red drops on water
Is it you that came to life
Or the sharpened glasses on my hands
Trying to bring the memory to life
Now its gone
Now its lost
No enchanting words
To bring back that forgotten world
All doomed forever more
Nothing could ope
Once...Once...12 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
There was a world where all of the parents lied to their children. These were not hurtful lies though, but rather ones meant to comfort the children. Simply, when the child would lose something, a toy, a gift, a favorite animal, anything really, the parents would tell them "Somewhere, someone is caring and loving and cherishing it"
But slowly as the children grew older, some becoming parents themselves, they came to understand that it was not so.
Some were angry.
Some were sad.
Most were indifferent and assumed that they should do the same, that it was just what you told children.
One child, however, grew up still believing.
Though he understood that what he had been told wasn't true, he wanted to make sure that it would be true for everyone else.
And one day,
He began to collect little things here and there; books, necklaces, toy trains and little dolls. Everything he came across he kept and loved. Soon it took over his room and house and even his attic. So the man, getting a lit
Child of WarChild of War11 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
This is not a tale of tragedy or a lamentation, nor is it a glorification of war or peace, or an accusation of criminal nations who encouraged this war. It is simply a diary -- my life as a child of war, both frightening and exciting, where life was suspended but life went on anyway. A life neither happier nor sadder than that of any other child on the planet, but more unusual perhaps, and sometimes astonishing in how normal it all was to me. Which is why I like to share this piece of writing: I feel it is a unique perspective on this kind of event, as I have strived to keep it void of post-rationalisation and political context to keep it, as purely as possible, an insight into how this was experienced by a kid's mind, and for that I put myself back into my mindset of the time to write it. This shows in the "voice".
I was born in Beirut on September 11th, 1979, in the basement/shelter of the clinic where my mother had gone to give birth. We immediately left for Mu
Biology of the Staple RemoverBiology of the Staple Remover10 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Staple Remover (Connectiva Chompicus), while one of the smaller creatures in the office, still holds the reputation as a much feared predator in the ecosystem.
The most prominent characteristic of the Staple Remover is its four long fangs that give it an almost menacing smile. Non-venomous yet quite sharp, these fangs are capable of latching on to its favorite prey, the Staple, even when it is firmly rooted in its most secure habitat. Its deathgrip secure, the Staple Remover crushes the helpless Staple's defense and drags it out for a viciously rewarding meal. Although more often observed as a solitary animal, a pack of Staple Removers has been known to strip the metal from a conference presentation in less than a minute.
Once a year, the male Staple Remover instinctively returns to the office supply store where it was purchased to engage in a savage mating ritual: the capture and takedown of a Multi-use Color Copier. Many are lost
I'll never tell.She lies on a bed of stolen rosesI'll never tell.10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In her Cinderella dress of stars.
Red lipstick stains her cheeks
And she smiles cheaply at no-one.
'Be mine' she had whispered in her ear.
'I'll never tell.'
So she fell into her.
Laid in arms nature told her she should not,
But felt so true, so free.
Hours later they had lain together
Surrounded by perfect silence
And a bliss she had never known.
A faint kiss on the forehead and her angel is gone.
A night to hold onto forever but mention to none.
Yet now at night when darkness falls
She remembers full cherry lips, londe curls and the faint smell of Chanel No.5
Lotus -- ApologueLotus -- Apologue8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
蓮 -- LOTUS
once upon a time, there lived a pair of lovelaced sisters bound by string and tied by laughter to a travelling circus that roamed the wonderwise world.
A MARVEL, came the crier. AN ANOMOLY IN ITSELF.
the stage was always the set and the mood was always dark. they wore a new story every night because it was the nothing they always knew.
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR RINGLEADER RECEIVED A STRANGE LETTER, the crier always brayed, hoarse like radishes grated in the sand.
IT WAS FROM THE QUEEN OF KIRIBATI, A PROUD ISLAND NATION. SHE HAD BEEN BLESSED AND CURSED WITH TWO PRINCE-PRINCESSES-- A COMMON AFFLICTION IN THEIR COUNTRY, BUT ALAS, THESE DARLING TWINS COULD NOT LEGALLY MARRY, AND SO THE ROYAL LINE WOULD BE BROKEN. WITH TEARS IN HER EYES, THE QUEEN REQUESTED THAT OUR KIND RINGLEADER CARE FOR THE GIRLS UNTIL THE MATTER OF ASCENDANCY WAS RESOLVED.
QUITE CONTRARY TO THEIR ROYAL BLOOD, THESE TWIN PRINCESSES ARE OF PLAYFUL DEMEANORS, FULL OF LIVELINESS AND CH
250 christians can't be wrong250 christians can't be wrong10 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The counselors tried to keep the children calm before meals. They lined them up by cabin in front of the dinning hall and preformed various stunts to pacify them until the tables were set. Sometimes they sang songs with hand motions:
"Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark. Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark, Daddy Shark do do do do do do…" The song continued to tell the story of a woman swimming who suffered a shark attack and flew to Heaven. It was an annoying tune with gestures that involved little more than clapping your hands together in a vertical snapping motion. The eleven-year-old campers loved it. They sang it repeatedly when they got home and their parents cringed.
"JELLY BEAN!" someone called out, "tell us a joke!"
A short brown-haired counselor stepped onto a crate in front of the children. "Do you really want to hear a joke?" she asked.
The children shouted back that they did.
slanguage and cigaretiquetteHe said chickadee,slanguage and cigaretiquette10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
'cause that's what they've been
The chick with the car
and her very own language
and rehab for sophistication.
Behind their backs, gang hangers
rewrite official business men's
and their leader woman
cavorts to the conversation tones.
But I still give slang to the new boys,
the ones I meet, who
offer a smoke ever-why time.
I, ever-why time, convince
it's too much of a decision
to pick a cigarette.
He stuck around
after his initiation cigar,
trying to let this slanguage
slip into his ette-cloud.
SunsetSunset9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tall and strong, with pride She stands,
Gloriously bending o'er green lands.
Her arms stretch wide and reach in vain
For something that She cannot gain.
The sun sets slowly; Her shadow grows.
She weeps in silence for all Her woes.
The light glimmers as it falls,
And all is lost as She calls
And reaches out with Her right hand.
She is destroyed by His command.
By accepting Her power He made Her strain
To protect the green glow of Her grassy plain.
He took from Her what She did not owe;
He made Her fall into the shadow.
She stands there shattered and appalled,
And takes what She can as She falls.
The blood red sky slowly dies,
As She goes to Her demise.
Red WindowI have all my lucky pennies in a row,Red Window8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
catching sunlight, holding morning air.
They keep me company
from the window sill, greet me
never expecting too much.
Just the truth of daylight,
the honesty of darkness,
my promise of imperfection
just like the flaws that brought me here.
Music- the futureMusic- the future8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Music (some future)
in downtown Denver
there is a miniature theater
neighbor to fire trucks and warehouses
lips pucker cigarettes,
in a swarming mass together,
a costumed mob
inside the stage radiates-
projected on white globes,
that feed the soul lobes
the music is diverging voices
of various magnitude and sin-
drones, pipes, strings,
broad moan, shrill bite the amber sways
over open toes and line tight flesh the absinth music breathes
all at once.
these tangled arterial voices
seized in pulsing cycles-
rhythms that swing back
harrowing nights, bloodlust,
the taste of mucus and salt
creating a frozen crust
on the mouth of Colfax Avenue.
inside the walls buckle-
seething home for bugged minds
to mesmerize and feed on other minds-
antithesis and perception,
to gather the skirt of objection
and meld it like rot iron.
music as reality-
energy river of sound and rest
each voice its own pattern
i don't wanna grow updusted gold & it's setting in-i don't wanna grow up11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a heated chill,
with a touch of sin.
& sitting old as Him.
the fountain dries and the haystack thins-
the ashes fall and you find the pin-
the stone, it cracks-
and you see within.
a man falls hard when a woman lifts,
so he wraps his pride inside a potent gift-
& it gets them nowhere but it passes time,
for now & then & when she will be mine.
by way of long simplicities & short complications."
to when life is shorter-
& growing pains don't hurt no more.
v.maderov.madero11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
solo fueron tres...
a las docenas les pusiste un moño rosa
y las olvidaste en el altillo
de tu falsa memoria sin brillo
casi como el verso de una mariposa
que vuela de prosa en prosa
siempre con la mentira en la boca
Music- the pastMusic- the past8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Music (the past)
I learn scales-
grubby fingers hammer
heavy white keys
"second finger over, thumb under-
then down again-
now the arpeggio," mom says.
songs of moonshine
as we border the canyon.
We take seats around
the campground fire pit.
I see mom
slick down the strings,
and the fiddle wails
a coal miner's death.
I discover bands-
black tape player records
from local radios,
a corrupt library
of childhood escape.
I cry over a lyrical calamity
I don't understand.
I'm one of two drummers-
acute white stick blur
expand and tighten
pulse paper making
notation and flirtation
tight drum heads crack
twenty twitch fingers
rotate and slap
nerves roll out force
over tiny wrist bones.
I'm one of two intimate drummers
on some rampage
of adolescent disengage
four illicit hands
in a quest to be robotic
little boy with male birthright,
I'm snared and igniting
hours until sunset.