BreathlessFor the story behind this little story, you have to go look at Pika's "Corsetry" - see the link in the author's notes!Breathless7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: Jim Henson and company own everything Labyrinth; Pika plucked "Corsetry" from her deviously deviantly talented brain. I own nothing. Thanks as well, Pika, for reminding me of the elevator! ... and then reminding me that that elevator is, in fact, a lift. Hee!
Rating: PG-13 for language, innuendo and excessive décolletage.
What of me?From a seed I did growWhat of me?4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But what fruits have I to show?
Hanging off me are but withered leaves
And dying flowers hanging like empty sheaths.
Where are my thorns that had protected me?
Or my gardeners that had promised to tend me?
My bark is falling
My branches bent
My trunk is hollow
My canopy rent.
What does it matter, what they had said
When at the end of the day, their words are dead?
The pleasant words they spoke, the vows they made
Now exist nowhere but in my head.
They helped some flowers, pulled out a few weeds
But did they really do 'good deeds'?
The garden has perished
Only death remains
Nothing but decay
Is found along the lanes.
Who can save us now?
Can we be saved? And how?
From who can Hope be drawn?
Can we cease being forlorn?
MeguriauMeguriau8 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
ochikaeru deai to wakare hana no shita.
Again and again we meet and part under the sakura blossoms.
There's a House On the Moon"There's a house on the moon." She said, staring upwards at the silver disk in the sky.There's a House On the Moon4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Don't be silly, darling." Her mother scolded, shaking her head apologetically at the other parents.
She frowned and crossed her arms, her bottom lip sticking out and her big eyes narrowed. "But there is! And there's a river an' a field an' goats an' a cat, an' that's where Old Man Winter lives."
Her mother sighed impatiently. "Enough with these silly stories, Elisabeth. Go and play while I talk, alright? But no telling the other children of these ridiculous fantasies."
Pouting, she did as she was told, stomping her booted feet hard against the half-frozen ground until she was out of her mother's sight. Childish pique was only worth the effort if adults were watching. She walked into the bare woods, dried leaves catching on her winter coat, rather than go to the forlorn playground filled with bundles of coats and scarves and deeply concealed children. She unwrapped her own scarf from around her chin
Far Away Love I had to travel, far away...Far Away Love11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
And for a while, here i must stay.
As i walk along, in this foriegn land.
I wish you were with me,
Holding my hand...
And i'm lost in this world,
Without you. i'm missing
A part of me, now.
As i'm just standing here
Oni koji se bojeONI KOJI SE BOJEOni koji se boje7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Nemoj misliti da sam tu,
To to vidi - to je sjena.
I ne očekuj me pokraj sebe;
Vie nisam izgubljena.
Tvoja ruka mi ne treba vie
Sada sama sebe vodim.
I znam da mi je ovo trebalo.
Zato? Da se oslobodim.
Sad se ne bojim snova, pa ni jave.
Čak ni dana koji preda mnom stoje.
Vie ne plačem sama u tami.
To rade samo oni koji se boje.
sram..ne elim pisati o kii,sram..7 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
ni o crvenom soku u čai.
iako kia ne pada
a sok je previe sladak i već ga nema.
ne elim pisati patetične stihove
o srodnim duama..
postoje li one uopće?
moj bolesni eludac plače.
i da, ja sam kriva.
elim da me zagrli.
ili ne elim.
sram je čudna stvar.
churchlord you spun me outchurch6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
of morning rays and mexican
china, out of paper elephants
and camomile flowers. you took
and ears away from a deaf
mute and gave them to me
so i could hear the others
say speak the word of jesus
wide-eyed like children, so that
i could say my name is emily,
my name is emily but i can't
lord you gave me green
whisky when all i needed
was a glass of water in
the middle of the
night and arms instead
of a parting knife.
you wrote me a poem and
put it inside me and
the words smelled like sex
and tea leaves, carrot-flowers that
will emerge from the dirt
smiling and all alone.
lord you plucked a boy
out of a tree and told him
to love me with his eyes
shut, but in the end it
was me who was too
blind. you gave me a sad
mouth and brown
lord when you stopped
listening i threw away my
faith like pregnancy tests
and birth control. you stopped
listening and i counted the
colours in my bedroom, yellow-
grey-yellow. i sobbe
ReaperGlancing upon crimson skies,Reaper11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a raven he lay in wait.
A fallen angel perched up high,
counting as the final hour drew nigh.
As crimson gave way to a velvet black,
a veil of darkness cloaked the land,
as fields of gold were stained with steel,
with the Devil they sealed the deal.
As the still of night was pierced with screams,
among the cries moved a force unseen,
like a mighty plague he swept the land,
as the face of God turned,
and He lifted His hand.
No army or weapon stood as darkness loomed,
from the start they had sealed their doom,
and in the now crimson fields where his task begun,
no one was left,
his work was done.
As he stood alone in the killing fields,
his grief betrayed by his eyes of stone.
were those who lay around him victims of wrath?
Or testaments of those who gazed upon him,
the face of Death?
BonepulseEveryone's soul has a song, you know.Bonepulse7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Gently, I tap on the drum-taut surface of your breastbone with my just-too-long fingernails, trying to find the tempo of your life. Not the time signature, not the way you fit all your little activities into blocks and bursts and cycles of regularity - that will come later, when I know you better. Maybe when you're dead, and I can lay my head on your still-warm corpse and listen to the echoes of the last throbs of your veins, I will know your time signature. But for now, all I want to know is the pace that you take.
Do you swoop and dip through life so quickly that conductor Fate has a hard time keeping up with your erratic swirls? Do you keep the heavy, ponderous backbeat of the world's orchestra? Are you a sheep in your herd or are you a frontrunner? Are you first chair or six billionth? Are you rude and brassy, shoving your way to the front of the auditory melange? Or do you add elaboration, silver and delicate, to the main theme?
the ocean is pollutedthe ocean is pollutedthe ocean is polluted6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and our children will be throat down baptized
in its weightless mausoleum choke.
staring at the rising tide
swallowing the shore,
swallowing the rivers,
man sees himself reflected across the cerulean surface,
remembers the tyrants past,
given power so surging
(the helpless destroyers),
sees the giant lumbering to transplant him
in an ecosystem generated for the mermen,
the chemically inflated
above the land where
there is only hunger and cold,
the leftover lineage
of an animal that slit its own tongue
and drank its belly full,
desperate for the memory of blood.
Good Morning Glass ManSlow songs and glass bongs.Good Morning Glass Man8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I get the blues just listening to you.
When all you have is lost and gone.
Please remember me.
Character Profile FormCharacter Profile Form9 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Meaning of name:
Origin of name:
Socioeconomic level as a child:
Socioeconomic level as an adult:
Most important childhood event that still affects him/her:
Other memories/events that still affects him/her and why/how:
Past failures s/he would be embarrassed to have people know about and why:
Biggest role model:
Biggest disillusions from childhood:
In the Ways of Wild Magic Cpt4In the Ways of Wild Magic Cpt45 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Avent had the information he needed about the Dead Prince. The arrogant Prince had been dethroned twice, the second time had come with a death threat. The Prince was a pure blood, one of the few remaining pure blood Faries left. The Prince was also planing something Avent's informant only knew the rumors about.
Avent had been guided out of the stuffy room into an alley way and away from the market. Then he was left alone. Avent had been given a walking stick to help him find his way around. He felt along the wall, using the stick to feel in front of him.
Then he was grabbed from behind as a rag was pressed to his mouth and nose. Slowly, as Avent struggled, he began to feel sleepy. Soon he stopped struggling, relaxing against his assailant.
"Sweet dreams..."Purred a voice above him as Avent passed out.
Chapter Four: The Dead Prince
Avent's shoulders where screaming in pain as he woke up, groggy.
"Nnnh..."He groaned softly, lifting his head up, listing to what was around
In the Ways of Wild Magic Chp6In the Ways of Wild Magic Chp65 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Chapter 6: Madness and Art
The Keeper hummed as he danced about the town square, smiling at the rubble around him. Crying dogs and scared cats eyed him as he sat on the fountain wall. He had warned everyone, that this day would come. This town had been warned...
The Keeper was fair, understanding. He gave a hundred years warning to the people of Little Burgs that he would come if they continued worshiping Magic. He was fair...The warning was fair and now.
"Now your beddy-by has called you under the sleeping earth. Winter and stone cover your bones, as you slumber-a-way..."The Keeper sang to the ruined town.
He giggled as he stood, walking around, waving his hands around as if he were directing a musical. He smiled dreamily, humming.
"What's this?"He crooned, spotting a small child. The Keeper giggled.
"Innocents? Shall it be spared? Should it be squashed? Or should it be kept?"He tilted his head at the child, chuckling.
The child looked up at the Keeper, sniffling, rubbing her eyes. Th
In the Ways of Wild Magic Cpt2In the Ways of Wild Magic Cpt25 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Prologue: Faries and sorts
The Fay Kingdom was in an uproar over the recent acts of the Dead Prince. He was suppose to remain in the shadows. However...
However he was sitting on his throne, a smug look on his angelic face.He looked rather pleased with himself as his adviser and dear friend spouted angry reasons why he should be locked away.
"I left as soon as I could."The Dead Prince chuckled. "I'm a fairy, take it how ever you wish."
His friend glared at him and then sighed. "Leave Avent alone. It only risks your life and puts more weight on the threat of war."
The Dead Prince nodded. "Exactly."
He smiled coldly.
Chapter Two: Turning Kindness away
Avent escaped his room, feeling his way around the garden wall. There was a hidden gap there he could squeeze through. His hand suddenly went through the wall causing him to stumble a bit. Avent tore his vest as he went through the gap, cutting his skin. Because he was a type of the immortal race, he would heal quickly.
Forget MeIm going to make you breakForget Me6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If my fate is to lose you anyway
Im going to make you hurt
So that you wont feel anything at all
Im going to make you be my pain
All the awful, miserable things
Im going to make you know the truth
All the love you had for me was a lie
Im going to make you feel
I will be a bitter memory
Im going to make you remember
You know you want to leave
Im going to make you regret
Meeting me was your biggest failure
Im going to make you cry
I wish I could wipe them for you
Im going to make you live
There is a life beyond love
Im going to make you die
Someone will be there to save you
Im going to make you forget
Youll never want to look back
Im going to let you go,
Let you break,
Let you hurt,
Let you feel,
Let you remember,
Let you regret,
Let you cry,
Let you live,
Let you die
So you can forget me
Jericho - Draft IIII'm so grateful for the DD, guys! Unfortunately, I had to remove this poem so that I can try to publish it elsewhere in various poetry journals.Jericho - Draft III5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rouge UMVC3 MovesetRouge UMVC3 Moveset3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 Moveset
Series: Power Stone
Series: Power Stone (1999)
HP: 875,000 HP Points
Power Ranking (Out of 7):
Energy Projection: 6
Fighting Ability: 5
Rouge is a fortune teller from the town of Mahdad in the Fire Kingdom. Her abilities in foreseeing the future are second to none, and her control over fire has given herself the nickname of "The Scorching Beauty".
Assist Alpha: Flame Breath (Shot, Tilt Down)
Assist HC: Carpet Bomb
Assist Beta: Flame Rain (Shot, Down)
Assist HC: Carpet Bomb
Assist Gamma: Mystic Prayer (Extra, Instant) (Adds to the Hyper Bar)
Assist HC: Carpet Bomb
Rouge will float down on a magic carpet, then leaping off as it disappears in a puff of smoke.
#1: Let us see what is in your future
#2: Trying to fight someone like me is not in good fortune for you.
#3: Do not attempt to play with my fire you will be burne
Game Cave Chapter 01: Bust-A-Bomb!Game Cave Chapter 01: Bust-A-Bomb!4 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Blue sky, white clouds, and a hint of desert wind from the east. All was calm, as if the entire universe were holding its breath. Then it exhaled. The sky erupted in a fury of orange, yellow, red, and green flame. A mixture of hellfire and rocket fuel, with a dash of magic thrown in for maximum damage.
Custom explosives were like that, Bombkatt thought, sitting in the Captains chair of the Jolly Dagger. Multicolored, sparkly, vicious. No matter the recipe, each bento bomb was unique. In her mind at least. Katt loved crafting her own weapons, and she was damned good at making them. It was a gift. Bentos, specifically, were her preferred weapon of choice. With the right Majeki inserted, they could even be used to entertain parties. Not these ones. These were made to kill.
The Jolly Dagger, Katt’s newly bought airship, cast a W
Paper PlanesWe use to fold paper planes togetherPaper Planes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
By the dinner table after supper.
Once we finished we would write our deepest desires into them
And then throw them into open space.
We would watch as they glided their way
Across the plains.
We would see which one of our planes flew the farthest.
Which one of our dreams went further.
But that too
Like everything in life.
I got older
But I never grew up.
I got busy.
And you did too.
Our conversations now can be put into three categories:
Greetings, food and farewells.
Somehow, we’re both okay with that.
I sometimes pray to the same God that you say you once knew
To the one you still wear around neck
In hopes that maybe, one day,
Things will return
To how they once were.
See, ‘cause the plane that was suppose
To take me from my child to adulthood
Still hasn’t landed. Delayed
By a storm I cannot define.
And I don’t plan on ever leaving the roof
How could I? When I feel