Vendetta.Vendetta.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let's go swimming in the corpse pit.
Make friends with the deceased.
Play them a funeral march fit for a king.
What else would we do, fall in love?
I wish you were here with me right now,
smothered in love and sprinkled with horror.
Love is fear and fear is love
so you must be a heartbreaker, Sweetheart.
So here's to revenge, vendetta's all round,
Oh waiter can we get some more glasses over here please?
Pull up a chair and take a drag out of me.
A flash of teeth and a flash of the knife,
remove the circulatory organ from it's oh so rightful place.
Oh Baby, you're a killer,
with that lie on your lips and poison in your kiss.
Please take that knife out of my head,
it's starting to itch a little.
Well that's not very lady like at all
Is that a halo in your hand?
Pretty. ::Freakin:: Odd.Pretty. ::Freakin:: Odd.7 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Pretty. Odd. is just like what it sounds like. Pretty. FREAKIN. Odd.
With the multiple singers, crazy lyrics, orchestra from Abby Studios, the insane guitars, the sweet drums, and the the perfect choir -- it's more than worth it to buy. Track by track, this band will amaze you with their sophmore album. Take a half an hour outta your life and go fight off the teenie-boppers to get the CD from your local record store. It's well worth it, believe me!
Track by Track:
1)We're so Starving ~ The intro of the whole CD sums it all up with excelence. The simple lyrics and the guitar gives the perfect Beatles vibe for the whole album. Pretty much like the the song Sgt. Pepper's Lonley Hearts Club Band preformed by The Beatles. It fades into one of the most well-known MySpace raved song, Nine in the Afternoon.
2)Nine in the Afternoon ~ The most well-known song by Panic to date. This catchy radio tune is the on
Having Held OnHaving Held On7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the age of thirteen
I fell fingersfirst
into the kingdom of a basement love.
The climate was like fanned oxygen
into the lungs of a plague-ridden,
more pure. Exceptional
to the stick
of chore sweat.
I did not know I was so severely ill
until I spied the bullion
off the ridges
of your knuckles,
and the infirmity
cracking my own palms.
And I had not known
how grossly my veins blazed
until your granite heart revealed them to be melting
against my exoskeleton.
I had dabbled in flight,
sometimes I floated above the pebbles
on my way to the market;
But I had not known completely
about the feathers sprouting from my spine
until you dived off a mountain ledge,
mask on, crown bulging
in the pocket of your robe
and involuntarily I sprang
from the dirt,
wings streaked white
with unsmudged love.
That is the day
that we saved each other
in free fall.
We landed soon enough. I was teaching you
how to let your feet bruise,
and you were
answersAnd you are always asking why.answers7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some moments you doubt yourself, not me
but yourself, your worth or your credibility, maybe--
some seconds you want
to maybe put your hands
deep into your jean pockets, put up your hood, shake your head,
sometimes you seem to be thinking,
Normally I answer you slowly,
starting with a because
But that has grown pale, diseased
in comparison to the explanation you deserve.
So here it is forever, in ink.
memorize it for the days I get strep throat.
You are coming home.
You are a room I never want to leave.
You are sliding, sock footed
across a wood floor with hairbrush
in hand and music so loud it is coaxing strands of my
hair to burst from their roots.
& you are the smell of French toast,
the taste of powdered sugar being licked off mouth-corners
You are waking up naturally,
alarm unplugged. You are the be
Amar e'Amar e'10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Apesar de me sentir esquecido quando não pensas em mim,
apesar de me sentir sozinho quando não estás aqui,
apesar de me sentir vazio quando te sinto assim...
não me arrependo de ser este ser que só sou quando tu és.
que se entristesse se assim estás,
e te alegra para que assim estejamos;
que carece se assim estiveres,
e tudo dá pra que tudo tenhamos;
que te quer se assim quiseres,
e aceita o espaço de que precisamos.
como pode partir algo de onde nada pareçe haver?
de onde vem tudo o que não tenho quando tu não pareces ter?
virá de dentro do peito?
daquele laço que te aperta e me faz sofrer?
eu gostava de saber...
gostava de provar...
pondo tudo em escrita como um sentimento a testemunhar;
aqui e aí ao levantar;
aqui e aí ao deitar;
aqui e aí ao esperar
que aqui e aí se possam juntar.
porque aqui nada pareço ter,
pois aí nada pareço dar,
porque aqui nada posso fazer,
pois aí não posso estar.
e assim como cada dia longe é uma batalha que conquisto
em que me firo, mas não mor
Perfect Imagemusic: Lafee - "Sterben für Dich"Perfect Image8 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
She's in love with you
There's nothing she can do
To get you out of her mind
Yeah sometimes love makes us blind
You're so perfect in all
Like you're not human at all
Seems too good to be true
We see no flaws in you
Is this obsession too much?
She says she'd give up her life, for you
But you, don't even know who she is
And it should not be like this
If you can't be the one for her
Have to make her let go
And it hurts every time
Just hearing your voice
She gets lost in time
Was this really her choice?
Don't you see what you do?
Yeah I guess looks can kill
Because they only see you
The you that's not real
Is this obsession too much?
She says she'd give up her life, for you
But you, don't even know who she is
And it should not be like this
If you can't be the one for her
Have to make her let go
Aging Ribbons And Cotton Candy~Aging Ribbons And Cotton Candy7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I was the little circus girl
swooning behind satin-donned elephant thighs.
I baked interminably under the carnival sun,
entranced by the garbs with tilted stripes
and the strong-jawed women with beards and
the intricate soreness of my teeth banging
against the ticket-booth.
As the carnies shoved popcorn into my eyes
and advertised laughter and love and lay-away fates,
I tried to blink out the kernels
because I could not get enough of the swooshing garbs
tumbling out of tents or the smell of freak sweat
dripping off their painted faces.
At night, I hid in the piles of disposed wishes
and crunched-in cups. Ghosts swept past me in time
with the moonlight, casting fog wisps my way
but never inhabiting my flesh. I cried like that,
gasping in the miasma
and never once
did the phantoms unblur themselves;
not for my sakenot
for the sake of the earth-quaked ground, perilous
with pergola stakes jutting from the dirt.
Like CactiLike Cacti10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the skies are cloud free and the wind sleeps
to a 95 degree baked earth.
in a faded paisley bikini – once
fire hydrant red – next to a man
who can never lay still.
you never know when it may rain.
Out here in the desert,
the cacti wait.
I'd like very much to have their patience.
And she stays with him.
Oi.Meu avô tinha olhos azul-bebê.Oi.6 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
E um rosto moldado para sorrir, onde o sorriso se expandia e brilhava, e cada célula estremecia na possibilidade do sorriso, cada ruga e pedaço de pele era uma história, anos e anos de sorrisos cúmplices.
As mãos eram pedreiras.
Ásperas e humildes, elas transpiravam força e delicadeza, as mãos de meu vô eram construtoras.
Ele me lembrava uma criança,por inteiro, sempre.
Com bobas teimosias e olhos brilhantes, encarando o mundo maravilhado, ele se admirava do mundo.
Meu avô é meu exemplo, minha ternura, meu sorriso.
Meu avô será sempre a base daqueles personagens ingênuos e rudes, como sábios patriarcas que observam tudo, e soriem, sem grandes preocupações.
Meu vô me ensinou a jogar canastra e a plantar vida na terra.
Meu vô ensinou a dedicação do trabalho e a humildade nos sentimentos.
Meu vô sempre virá até mim, sempre so
O tempo de espera.acho que já passou demasiado tempo,O tempo de espera.7 years ago in Teen More Like This
acho que já muito nos escapou, entre horas, entre mãos, entre espaços.
acho que é um tempo de espera prolongado em excesso. tanto se estica, tanto se estica, que um dia rebenta. e acho que nunca te falei tão a sério. sempre te tolerei brincadeiras incapazes de serem ouvidas por outros, sempre aceitei o sentido mais vulgar das coisas vindo de ti. e acho que nem te apercebes disso. mais depressa pensas que te estou a dizer que "sim" para mudares de assunto, do que propriamente estar a ser compreensiva contigo.
acho que depois de tantas horas passadas a olhar pro tecto ainda não vivi o suficiente dentro de ti,
acho também, que depois de tantas noites sentada entre o chão e o céu, a cama e a lua, não deste por mim a entrar pelo teu quarto dentro.
é tanta a expectativa e o medo da recusa, que já nem sei. o melhor é sempre dizer-to, claro. mas e depois? quem se dana so
A varanda, que nao e' tua.começo a recear ir espreitar a varanda, nestes dias. - como se o antes não fosse relevante.A varanda, que nao e' tua.7 years ago in Teen More Like This
acho que agora, mais do que nunca, é preciso encontrar as memórias que me favorecem - de certa forma, sendo egoísta - e as que vou tentar esquecer a todo custo - ou seja, todos aqueles fins-de-tarde e as tuas mil e uma maneiras de me fazer transpirar por um sorriso.
é que, ás vezes, é mais forte que eu: acciona-se não sei o quê, que te faz estar presente, e depois fazes-te de convidado e prolongas a tua estadia. - é preciso ter lata, mas sempre foste assim, e se calhar é o que mais me cativa em ti.
enfim, já não há mais reticências, nem vírgulas a acrescentar.
e para acabar - porque só acaba quando tudo está bem - vou ser eu mesma a fechar a porta, esta noite. não tens mais poder de decisão, nem controlas o tempo. - it's my turn now.
"espero que encontres uma outra casa, uma outra porta e uma
What She IsWhat She Is11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Please help me save her,
She's drifting away,
Her time is coming,
She waits for the day.
I can't make her see me,
She seems not to hear,
She can't feel me hold her,
She's drawing so near.
She's crying and helpless,
So close to the edge,
Seeing no one to help her,
To death she will pledge.
She's dying inside here,
We must get her out,
But she won't let me help her,
She's living in doubt.
She's screaming in silence,
Of her fear and her pain,
She thinks no one hears her,
That she screams in vain.
She seems fine at first glance,
But look in her eyes,
Her world is revealed there,
You'll see through her lies.
She watches life pass her,
Afraid to grab hold,
But her "safe place" is poison,
It's lonely and cold.
She's trapped in a mind game,
An impossible maze,
She blocks her own way out,
She's lost in a daze.
She's drifted for so long,
She crossed a thin line,
She'll never be ok,
She can never be fine.
She's who I used to be,
She's who I am now,
She's my past and my present,
And my future aswe
and onceand once12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was a moment there,
when your eyelashes fell in heaps,
upon the fluttering
of your oval shaped howl.
within seconds we were over,
folded into the ecstasy of the past,
and heaving endearments to
catch our breath.
your legs were wrapped
like gifts of tremoring earth,
binding me to the moon
with blood that does not
spill, but flows.
my empty cry spilled into you
the fantasy of being nowhere,
but inside your mouth
hotter than heaven,
the plot of seduction
you pursed your lips,
rubbed their slick against
my tired brow,
how we sped up
[we slowed down.]
there was a week there,
when our clothes fell in heaps,
upon the shuddering floor
and within years we were over,
collapsed into the shovels of the future
heaving endearments to another, to
catch up to our lives.
your legs were loose and tired
like dusty twigs
binding us to the soil
with dust that does not sta
Przypadek: PieknoPiękno było czymś, co nie mieściło się we franciszkowych wyobrażeniach.Przypadek: Piekno8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Nie potrafił jednoznacznie ocenić, co jest szpetne i godne pogardy, a co piękne i zasługujące na najwyższe uwielbienie.
Franciszek nigdy nie czuł,że któraś z kobiet z którymi obcuje jest piękna.
Każda była inna, a zarazem wszystkie z biegiem czasu stawały sie jednakowe, niemal identyczne, ich klejąca sie skóra, ich bezwiedne spojrzenia, stawały sie dla niego własnością jednej osoby.
Jednak kiedyś Franciszek P. był bliski poznania piękna.
Zobaczył jego odbicie w sklepowej witrynie, jak przechadzało sie po drugiej stronie chodnika na patykowatych nogach.
Piękno miało długie, zmierzwione, jasne włosy i niepewne spojrzenie.
Szło powoli i lekko, ale w jego ruchach był pewnien rodzaj przerażenia i niepo
The ScientistThe Scientist9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Polka dotted solutions of joy,
Euphoric bottles of blue,
Sets of candy coloured electrolytes
Send their electrons happily on their way.
Electro spectrum …
All operating by rules and theorems -
Content, without complications.
Rhythmic scratching of answers in my mind …
Solutions creeping up the spidery writing on the page.
Flowing logic …
Does nothing for the rosebush
Inside my cranial cavity.
All petals, love and thorns,
All so surreal, all so empty.
Without you …
Matter collapses suddenly, and
Formed a paradox that may or may not be there.
Insanity shows it's gnarled claws
And holds hands with little Mz Loneliness.
Tormented sleep …
Tears like dewdrops -
Appear in the morning.
Evaporates as quickly as it forms
But it still leaves a stain on the atomic number.
Drifting through the calendar pages
Colour coded squares, tagged and died. Blur -
Filtered through sleep deprived eyes
Only awake every time I think I see you.
Folding corners of your lips –
Entangled in a s
Arthur NobodyArthur works the night shift at a generically scummy bar so that he can sit all day in a coffee shop and write like the bohemian he can't really afford to be. This will not be a major contextual issue.Arthur Nobody8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
He sits now as he does every day, abusing the good-natured "free refill" system, drinking enough caffeine to relieve the fact that he works all night and drinks (coffee) all day. Sleeping fits into the equation in patches without regularity. He sleeps when his body requires it, and his body sometimes requires it when he's in the middle of doing something else. He sleeps when on the bus and misses his stop, or dozes as he is about to drain a cup of coffee, allowing him to roll his eyes at the irony when he jerks back to consciousness, because his is a life of mundanity where falling asleep in a wacky situation, for example, at the wheel of a car, is unlikely, not least because he can't drive. Today, as ever, he has with him an el
Bed MonsterLisa was a seven year old with a bedtime ritual. Every night she went to bed at 11.30 after her father had come home. She would go upstairs leaving her parents together downstairs. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, up and down like her dentist showed her. Then she went to her bedroom and changed into her pyjamas. She brushed her hair, seven strokes to each area of her hair, one for each year of her age. Then she opened her bedroom curtains, turned off the light and climbed on top of her toy chest and jumped from it to her bed to avoid the long arms of the monster under her bed. When she crashed onto the bed she would pull the covers up to her neck, and lie on her back rigid and staring into the dark. The monster would scratch on the bottom of her bed and whisper to her, but her parents never heard her crying over their arguments. Sometimes she would just cry silently until she fell asleep. In the morning she would wake up to its snuffling and sniffing. Lisa would jump offBed Monster7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
THREE DAYS FROM NOWfor Daniela Jara's 20th birthday on 6.21.04THREE DAYS FROM NOW10 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
three days from now
she will rise up to the playground of angels
fighter jets and zeppelins
burst open the door
translate her body into an equation
of one–hundred twenty pounds moving
nine–point–eight meters per second per second
and tumble from heaven
because she wants to taste the sky
on her birthday
this is the part of the poem
where I should drop metaphors
about falling in love with her
or how she's already fallen from heaven once
or something about shooting stars
or glass ceilings
but this isn't a love poem
I said I would fall alongside her
stretch out fingers to find her
falling ninety miles an hour
doesn't scare me nearly
as much as forgetting her touch
the romantic in me said
if her parachute does not open,
I will not open mine
instead, I would rather impress myself
emboss myself into the earth
next to her
so that the soil remembers me following her
until the crater I create
speaks poetry without my body there
TestOdpowiedz na następujące pytanie:Test8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Co teraz robi Poeta?
A: unosi się wśród obłoków
niczym wyśniony pegaz,
wchłaniając miękkie światło
B: łączy się ze zbiorową świadomością
uciśnionego narodu polskiego
dumając z cierpieniem
nad losem Ojczyzny
C: je kebab
Mickiewicz też lubił tureckie żarcie.
sparrowsparrow7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
The trees are unsettled, their limbs tossing in the violent tempest -- gauges for Natures wrath or love. The storm plays like a silent film as I sit in the cabin of my car. My old campus gym sits in the distance like a stolid mountain.
The world comes to life in stereo as I step out. Dashing down the side of the parking lot, my umbrella mimics the trees. Trying to avoid the rain, I notice an upturned creature on the wet pavement. I stoop to examine it. Its pale legs stick up like flags of resignation. People must think Im crazy, a university student examining some dead thing. He must be studying taxidermy.
Its a baby sparrow.
Its feathers are maturing over its soft pink underbelly, bunched into a mangy blanket by the rain. Its feet shiver in the wind. Dirt, pine needles, and assorted debris are stuck to its bo
TimeIt comes, without a sound like thunder--Time6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
No roaring, crashing, or booming to hear.
Though many things it may tear asunder
And changes how all things appear.
We cannot run; we cannot hide.
It will surly catch us in the end.
Deny it you may, yet it is inside.
Eventually your death it will send.
It always slips away
While I wait
Every minute, every day.
It is my fate.
It is time you cant out run.
So live life until you have none.
Agonie salee de vos corps.Agonie salee de vos corps.8 years ago in Other More Like This
On pourrait parler du titanic de leurs corps s'étouffant, du fracas des vagues sur la coque.
On pourrait écrire ceux qui hurlent, ceux qui succombent à la noyade.
Danser entre ces noyés, regarder les bouées s'enfuir au loin, aucun SOS à l'horizon.
Amertume amoureuse enfouie sous les cendres de la mer.
Dériver des rives de ses sourires
Triste marin perdu sous l'asphalte cristallin
Tu chavires à chaque grain de plaisir
Saisir l'instant où le frisson de tes mains
Se déverse et s'achève sur sa peau noire
Et alors tu lui chuchotes des océans illusoires.
Fièvre de vos baisers blessés d'ironie
Les rires se jouent la mer de vos corps
Entre en scène le fracas de vos peurs endormies
Face à face, se perdre dans le décors
Vos mains se noient dans l'âme inondée de vos souffles
Tu cours dans son dos, adossé au gouffre.
Elle est un port, une île, où tu égares tes navires
Moussaillon de désirs, elle l'écrit ton odyssée
La crie, et tu échoues entre les craies de vos satyres
Frotte, glisse, flotte, et s