The beauty of "human"The beauty of "human"11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Today's thoughts are a loss,
a never ending story of emotions,
sweet disposition is crying out to me.
I am a curse all my own,
anathema is my name,
And I know you don't care.
Can you cast off your ignorance,
and live in empathy?
As I abate all this indignation,
I probe for my own vindication,
and I find that self realization is not a question,
nor an answer.
It is a dwelling in my mind.
If my eyes could only see,
But to truly see..
You must close your eyes,
and let your mind dominate this plain.
For that is the only truth
I have come to see,
and to see I mean with my mind,
that thought is the basis of all reality,
for most it will be beyond understanding,
what wonderful arrogance,
And what simple ignorance.
Our universe does not run by according to laws,
For laws are of human thought,
Existence is a process of chaos,
that is the way and the life, chaos.
Laws are simply what hold the universe together,
And because they are made of human thought,
they can be broken, and changed,
The HatedThe HatedThe Hated8 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Before the world, they say there was nothing. But 'they' were only half right. All that existed was the Dark, the Light, and the spawn of the two. The Light created things it believes to be good, like water, air, and earth. The three of these things combined formed the world we know today. The Darkness created fire, shadow, and thunder, which formed a sheer chaos. When the then perfect world met with the pure chaos, the Darkness and light battled it out. After a long, fearsome war, the Light finally won out.
Created amongst the madness were many things: the greatest of them were humans. But these humans contained an unbalanced amount of Light and Dark in them. The Light would not have this, and purified all humans with more Darkness in their souls than Light. But, the Darkness managed to maintain itself in a select few humans, so they were hated by the world, and most were destroyed by the light. Those that weren't established control over the raw elements cre
I dance in clown shoes.I dance in clown shoes.11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You compose your conversations.
Fitfully gesturing with whatever you hold,
ending arguments with a flourish.
Make a point, now whirl, quickly.
Make it impossible to counter with your unpunctuation.
You duck and weave, spin, sidestep, pirouette:
One, two, one, two, faster, harder, stronger.
You leave me confused and two steps back,
just far enough behind to appear lost and unsure.
And if I catch up, if I make a point,
you spin again, a trail of words falling like pixie dust
as you make your escape.
And as you storm out, you slam the period behind you,
Ending your sentence with a door.
And I must follow you, my thuds down the stairs preceding my statement,
trying to catch up before the page break.
Now I capitalize a W, and follow with an a, i, t.
And you pause, spin, speak, gesture, spin, continue.
A waltz to counter my four-four.
You don't dance your words-
you speak a dance.
You speak a dance Baryshnikov couldn't follow.
You rapidly reverse the rhythm,
changing tempo in a blur of sound
Vioi ParallhloiΉταν μια νύχτα όπως όλες οι άλλες. Συνηθισμένη, μοναχική, προβλέψιμη. Μόνο που απόψε θα πουλούσα την ψυχή μου φθηνά. Κι όμως, τίποτα δεν προμήνυε το παράνομο παζάρεμα που θα ακολουθούσε.Vioi Parallhloi8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chronoscape, Chapter OneChronoscape, Chapter One9 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Can a line of events be traced to its origins, only to connect with its end?
Sept 17, 14:15
Apex clouds converged around the azure mountain of ice. The polar ocean rumbled, somewhere beneath, grappling into the iceberg, gnawing away at its foundations.
Grim, fluttering celestial arc released a blinding sphere of light has from the cloudy grasp. Scorching beams of sunlight smashed into the iceberg with relentless fury and the iceberg screeched in fear of their attack as glittering veins of cobalt and silver pulsated upon its surface. The temperature was rising, as the iceberg drifted south, pushed forward by the slashing wind. The iceberg fought against the warm currents till its last breath, but all was hopeless. An unyielding crack started to crawl across its surface, explosions of cold mist whooshing as the iceberg crumbled, expiring away; connecting with the clouds and the ocean.
Oct 4th, 9:12
A tiny, conical drop of water spiraled through the gray and blue mush of fog tha
Your EyesYour Eyes12 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The Earth and all her jubilee and might,
and self-inflicted hardship overcome,
and doctrine forged to settle wrong and right
no more can tell her doctors from the Sun-
with science and scripture stirred and made the same,
and idols cast from dirt and lust and gold,
and sunlight ploughed and passed a clever name,
and beauty culled and bought and used and sold,
thus, sun and beauty bound and in a mew,
as each one treads your lashes and your hair,
but glossy doctrines cast and mould and skew;
and you can't tell the sunlight from the glare-
and don the golden makeup and disguise,
as lashes keep the sunlight from your eyes.
During Murder in the DarkDuring Murder in the Dark8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
During Murder in the Dark, we played our own games.
We had a nook in the corner where nobody ever came and wed meet in there for a few moments at the beginning of every round, snatching intimate memories under the cover of darkness. It started when we were children, and was therefore childishly innocent; wed tap out messages on each others arms, using a mixture of Morse code and our own kind of shorthand that made things go faster. We were thirteen when he tapped out, Can I kiss you? I tapped back Yes, and we had a new game.
It always was a game. It never failed to send shivers down my spine when, as we prepared to part, he whispered in my ear By the way, youve just been murdered. And I know it was the same for him.
Things progressed quickly and within a year I had my hand down his pants as we were making o
RememberRemember9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A love of mine has made
A new decision for peace,
A new collision with my heart,
A new incision for a mark,
A scar, a memory of kisses
Of slashed and bleeding wrists.
That lost love of ours...
That lost child that cried,
That happiness that died...
Caused the tears that fled
From my eyes to your hand in a rush
Just to be crushed by your merciless words.
But out of all that's occurred,
I keep thinking back to the time
When you used to be mine
And I used to be yours,
The one you adored.
What happened to us,
To you and I?
Why all the goodbyes?
Do you still think of me at night
When all the light has left your mind?
Do you remember me like I remember you?<i>
Punctuated SilencePunctuated Silence, or Love In The Time Of The SemicolonPunctuated Silence7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Please return all parantheticals to the marked boxes after use.
The library is busy today. On Tuesdays it gets a bit loud because the elementary school kids come in during recess to borrow exclamation marks and use them in the aisles, even though the sign on the door clearly says that you should take anything noisier a comma outside to try it out. Theres an enclosed space out back littered with discarded dots and dashes people never seem to put the punctuation away after they use it.
The boys in the group scream, shrieking in delight as the bombs of noise echo down the aisles.
Its all a little inconsiderate.
Im on the prowl for parentheses, myself. The librarians, who are more than familiar with me and put unusual or foreign bits on the hold shelf with my name on them, phoned this morning to tell me that they
muzykaSłowamuzyka7 years ago in Other More Like This
delikatne dotknięcie cienkich strun
błądzą świadome tego
krzyk i spokój
gdzieś z oddali
językiem sunie po moim ciele
It's rainingIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The storm is really roaring
I've learned to laugh
I've learned to cry
But the sky won't clear till morning!
CrowCrow8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
through six inches
of window, as the last
autumn leaf stretched, spun, and drifted
swung wide open,
wet drunk on its hinges,
and you swept in bringing winter
always been my
plague; a black nest of storm,
dragging a throng of reluctant
in the half-light
that I felt a tremor,
(though your touch was as light as a
howled tooth and bone
around your peaked shoulders
through biting hail, I watched the door
were numb, and I
dropped my glass. Somehow, I
knew, your breathless season turned it
like a white hound
to the bar; when you poured
one on the rocks, I couldnt stop
(on the moonlight)
that I felt a tremor;
but your touch was as light as the
Forbidden...Forbidden...10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Though it is forbidden,
my heart pounds for you.
Though I will be condemned,
I can't live without you.
Though it is evil and sinned,
it is nothing but pure for you.
My tears will fall,
while my heart will sing,
all for the one who is forbidden.
Though it is looked down upon,
my heart soars high with you.
Though they bring tears to my eyes,
I protect against them for you.
Though it will be fought,
my heart will not stop loving you.
My tears will fall,
while my heart will sing,
all for the one who is,
Guardian AngelGuardian Angel11 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The ink splotched as she wrote on a fresh sheet in her notebook. Perhaps she was pressing a bit too hard. Lyrial ripped out the page and stuffed it in her pocket. She stared at the new page and began to start the same letter again. But what was there to say? There was nothing in particular she wanted to write. And would anyone care enough to read it? She doubted it.
Lyrial heard the soft clacking on the hardwood floor as footsteps approached her in the corner of the library. She quickly stuffed her letter under her textbook.
"The library is closing in 10 minutes, Ms. Anderson. I suggest you leave," the librarian hissed through gritted teeth.
Lyrial watched her retreating back. She was not surprised by her attitude. After all, she was a grumpy old woman who ceased to see much of the world outside this building. Although it might have also had to do with the fact that Lyrial constantly stuck her gum underneath the table, but she chose to ignore that.
She stuck a fresh piece of gum in her
Determined ActionA painful venomDetermined Action5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
leaks into me
fills my veins with it's incongruity..
A trap laid for me
wanting to see me fall
but I'm different
I would never
Actions speaking louder
then words would ever try
the words spoken.. A lie..
Leading up to a situation of pure
the feeling of being taken advantage of
that whatever happened next would change
Nightmares, but were the nightmares really there?
Or were the things happening between them the nightmare?
Awake and asleep
balanced between the two
Games within games
What was really being played?
I want to believe the best
but I am wrong to..
*Clap, Clap, Clap *
Well played, I was almost convinced
No... No I wasn't..
*Clap, Clap, Clap*
designed to destroy
I passed the test..
*Cold eyes stare back*
The steady heartbeat
The sound of a chopper
Fighting against a comrad
A Phoenix on his face..
Nightmares have nothing on reality
Be careful whom you
l'histoire de notre "histoire"to start, you should knowl'histoire de notre "histoire"5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
i think your physique is cute,
but that's not the point.
the point of this poem,
growth development aside:
that i want you to
write me a story
where i'm your main character
and you're the truelove
Through Your EyesThrough Your Eyes11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You can see me broken on the floor,
I am broken to this mortal world.
I am broken to you,
So toss me out.
Toss me out like a ragged doll,
Worn and frayed at the edges.
So toss me out,
Leave me there in the ice-y rain.
But please understand,
I don't want to go,
Don't want to leave you behind.
Even though I'm broken to you,
I still wish to be with you.
Don't toss me out,
Just take me, sweetly
Into your arms again
Unbreak me, make me whole again.
I'm still just shards on the floor.
Just shards of my self,
Shattered upon the earth.
So please, just take me in your arms
Smother me in your warm embrace.
Take me, make me, unbreak me
And in your eyes,
So, softly you can tell me,
So, lovingly you can show me.
Through your eyes, what have I become?
they never quite doMara made pictures without a thousand words, without sounds or touches; Mara made pictures with a whisper, when she least wanted to, much to her chagrin. They hung thick on her walls; faces frozen, eyes wide at Maras word.they never quite do7 years ago in Horror More Like This
Mara was thinner than she seemed, taking steps towards the bright light at the end of the hallway. Not as sure as she was stoned, she meandered; her feet leaving strange skinny marks in the thick carpet. Her hair, blonde on black, wagged back and forth as music played somewhere between her ears. She rounded the corner and asked the man on the wall a simple question. Where were you while we were getting high?&
In case of emergencyI saw the roots of prairie grassesIn case of emergency7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like carrion beetles in their yellowing shells
Nibbling angrily, at the concrete beneath my feet,
At wood sheared to fence posts near the road.
The very earth they rejected, drawing what peace they could.
When did stained glass become the standard?
I have forged narrow mountain paths and stumbled over
Bottle caps secreted between the mica flakes and quartz.
In this city, in the sectors most pregnant with age,
Trees testify shamelessly into the sky.
Clandestine, one coils his reach toward
A flimsy cable, twisted and strung precariously
From corpse to shabby corpse, on and on.
Graceful and altogether stoic, another refuses to wince
As the merciless force of a school bus violates its skirts.
All the monstrous lizards reduced to macabre exhibits,
I fault them for dying. With cold blooded savages
Of the biological nature, the world was better off.
Save the best for last is never the real philosophy.
Find me the soul that cares for what happens to its carca
THREE DAYS FROM NOWfor Daniela Jara's 20th birthday on 6.21.04THREE DAYS FROM NOW11 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
-Orison--Orison-11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let there be everlasting light
and as the breath left
her body she was bathed
in warm sunlight
filtering through the
golden canopy above.
Let there be eternal music
and was met with the
fluttering of the butterflies,
the gentle whispering
of the summer breeze and
the melody of a hummingbird.
Let there be enduring peace
and before her very eyes
vines grew up over the trees
without competition, then
a ladybug sat beside her
without fear of being crushed.
Let there be unearthly beauty
and beside her bare feet sat
an exquisite and precious gift –
a pretty child with laughing
eyes and long golden hair…
as the dusty pink gown
swirled around slender legs
and her bare toes danced
through the trickling stream,
she finally understood.
Wings spread, eyes open,
looking upwards as the
flowers fell she knew
she was truly blessed in
the simple joys of life…
Keeper's GlovesHe used to play football after schoolKeeper's Gloves6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Pretended he was on the pitch for real
His friends too; passing the ball in the hot sun
Like their heroes in boots and keepers gloves
He loved to play in goal to recreate
The craft of Shilton, or of Clemence
While in front of him, docked out in red
His friends raced towards him as Keegan
Such lovely times; I watched the boy grow up
Still donning his gloves through high school
To safeguard his school side, and each weekend
Hed head on down through Stanley Park to sing
He wore red as if it were his heart
I guess it was; he cheered for his team
He cheered on to finals and to trophies
Though he was always there for us as well
Ill never forget that fateful night
When I heard the news and prayed for him
Prayed that he had not been in the horror
But I received the dread knock upon the door
And I still think back to those days in the park
His goalkeepers gloves white against the dark
A childs voice singing You