The Importance of Being FrankThe Importance of Being Frank10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Importance Of Being Frank
At the end of this story, a Frenchman will be eaten by African driver ants.
* * *
Silvie closed the stall door behind her; she closed it timidly, with an empty expression on her face. Her hand shook. She paused for a moment, her mouth half open, her lip curled upward, and a frown on her forehead.
Then she walked over to the wash basins.
A fly buzzed between her and the mirror. She turned on the faucet, filled her cupped hands with water, and splashed it on her face. She looked at the stall's reflection in the mirror, closed her eyes, and slapped herself.
Let us slow down to take in the sights. At the exact moment Silvie's hand hits her cheek, everyth
My Penetration, My ClimaxIt's the explosion that I miss. The impact was violent, the passageMy Penetration, My Climax10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
of destruction, satisfying. But the thing I miss is the exit into the
air, from your skull, the sweet sensation of air rushing past the
blood and brains you yielded to my destructive prowess. It's that
feeling of freedom, the climax, when all my work was done and I was
spent. The spray followed me close behind, but it would never catch
me, because you were never quick enough to elude me. You were so
But your brain wasn't. Your brain knew the end was upon it, and it
screamed. And oh, I loved that scream. A million thoughts went
through that brain, once it knew it was over. That brain tried to
pacify itself with your innermost thought, that thought it had in
store just for the day it would shut down. The day I would come. It
played it, and I watched you sing to your daughter as she cried. You
were singing w
School Nativity PlaySchool Nativity Play12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Miss Williams! Miss Williams!
You'd really best come quick!
The wise men keep on arguing,
And Joseph's just been sick!
The star somehow got broken,
We don't know yet who did it,
Some say that it was Lizzie -
I think it was Ned Pitt.
The girls were playing with Jesus,
And his head somehow came off…
And the boy that sings the solo,
Just got a nasty cough.
The wise men are still bickering,
Over which of them is most wise,
And one really seems to think,
That he's God in disguise.
The shepherds have just lost their sheep,
And don't know what to do –
I don't suppose that you'd know where
To find a random ewe?
Betsy says her tooth's come out,
And that she wants her mum;
And by now Joseph is looking
Really rather glum…
The audience are coming in,
But we're really in a state,
Do you think they'll mind too much
If we're about an hour late?
The scenery's fallen down again –
I just thought that you should know,
And, Miss Williams, you'll never guess…
Miss Williams? Where'd you go?
Love Letter to No OneSo many nights, so many hours. Nights that lasted forever. Nights that tore into me and ripped out what little hope was left. I used to often sit alone on those nights pouring my heart out in a love letter to no one. Paragraph upon paragraph of useless words, tear stains on the paper, all in vain. Each letter was burnt and cast off to the winds. Perhaps off to find a hopeless dreamer such as myself.Love Letter to No One12 years ago in General More Like This
I'd dream what he'd look like, the way he'd smell. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hands. I'd write out the words I longed to say to anyone who was willing to hear them. Played out conversations in my head with a man who'd never love me. A man who wasn't any more real than the hopes that kept me living.
I grew up being called Snow White for my name is Amber Snow Wright. They called me a princess. I believed in the fairy tales. I thought that there was a person out there for everyone. The greedy, the poor, the overweight, the disabled, the gay, the snobby, the overly nice, even the "
I Think You Should KnowI think you should know,I Think You Should Know8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How much I really love you.
It's not like I can keep it hidden,
Because really, I've tried.
But if you went on not knowing,
I'd feel like I could die.
No matter how many times the flame dies,
It ignites so easily once again.
One flash of your smile,
Goosebumps crawl up my skin.
When you look at me,
I can't look away,
But then I know I'm blushing,
and I know I can't stay.
I'm stuck in this spot,
I really can't move.
I refuse to go anywhere without you.
I think you know,
I can tell you can sense you,
The way you treat me,
The way you laugh,
It's everything all at once.
I won't say it in a letter,
I'm not good at that kind of thing.
I could sing it to you in a song,
You know that's more me.
But no song could describe it,
So here is my way to finally say,
I can finally tell you today...
I Love You.
Am I A Fool?Am I a Fool?Am I A Fool?8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A fool to believe in a passion
That it could pass beyond the lines
That have been etched in our minds
Since the time that this race
Encountered that of another?
Am I a Fool?
A fool to believe in this ecstasy
This lust that can not be contained
Despite centuries of discrimination
And rules that dictated this life...
How do I cross that line?
How do I speak words that do not exist
In a language that is so limited
A language that even with so much power
Still fails to speak the truth...
Am I a Fool?
A fool to have believed in the lies laid out in books
That have been written,
From the point of one white male
And who is he to say that the times of segregation
Existed in the past and only in the past
When six nooses hang from a tree
Which then caused a chain reaction
Across the nation..
I want to believe when
We hold the power
The lines of segregation
And the domination of one race
One culture, one identity
will truly be behind us.
Round and RoundRound and Round10 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
There is no such thing as a fact, all there is is belief and beauty. Some people will say there is a God, however this is not a fact, this is a belief.On the other hand other people will say that there is no God, this too is not a fact, merely a belief.
I look upon the world spinning in my head and I realise that it dosen't matter to me how I got here, what matters more to me is that I truly understand how lucky I am, how lucky everyone is.Surely if the belief that there is or was a God is true, understanding this would be more important to the God than an actual belief in him. Because if God exists he gave us the one thing only that anyone can keep hold of no matter what, the power of free thought.This is also true if the belief that there is not God is true.
Any thought is beautiful, because it's something that your own mind has created unconsciously.A thought can not be controlled or taken away, you can have your youth, your innocence, your possesions taken away, but not your though
letters from no one.dear someone,letters from no one.6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i know you probably don't care.
i know you're probably busy watching tv or dealing with your own problems, or maybe you're busy laughing and chasing butterflies. maybe you spend afternoons in the grass, smelling the sun and tasting life.
maybe you don't have time to worry about me.
but i'm going to pretend you care. i just want someone to hear me, honestly.
i don't expect you to understand or care or even listen.
i'm just hoping that you will.
i guess i should start by telling you that i wish i didn't have to live anymore. free time is spent wondering if there's any way i could possibly suffocate myself.
i guess i should tell you that i'm sorry about this, but the problem is i'm not.
there's a constant throbbing behind my eyes. i dream of cliff jumping (i've heard it feels like flying). i sleep with ice in my nervous heart, and reality slowly melts into nightmares.
i think of life as a waterfall. hope and happiness and love fall into the hands of the people
for VenusBehold your grace!for Venus6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Venus, your radiance I embrace!
I would take the risk to journey
miles and miles of lonely
deserts and sand dunes
to only meet your moon
and plead that I witness
even one wave of your tresses.
My amorous goddess
to whom I shall finally confess
the length of my rhymes
that speak of my crime
of being too struck by your beauty
for which I am not worthy.
I am in satisfied disdain
though waiting in vain
be the answer to my devotion
no resentment is in cognition.
I shall wait here under your moon
until this earth will crack and soon
succumb to my weight.
on this spot I will wait
for years and decades to come
and as my soul shall numb
from ills, death, and decay,
even as bones, here I shall lay.
Beautiful.She flutters her eyes so gentlyBeautiful.10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As the wind blows through her hair
Her skin gently quivers
But from her eye a single tear
Hidden behind such beauty
Her soul forever scarred
Outside shows utter perfection
Inside a morbid facade
A life of pain and anger
Can turn the truest heart
But when does this mutilation
Turn into this salubrious art
Once stripped of outer trappings
Her body shows her pain
Scarred by her life of anger
Healed, but never the same
But still she goes on crying
Her lonely single tear
Shying away from all but hate
Happiness is her fear
ObsessionI see you down the hall.Obsession7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Walking slower, faster my heart is racing.
I can't help but stare, in doing so, I fall...
For you, the one I am reminiscing.
If only I had the courage to walk up and speak with you.
Tell you about me, I am not one to blame.
I want to know everything, everything you do.
What is your name?
Shadows, everyone that I see, just a list...
My light, my future. Will you be mine?
I take you heart, the chain; I fasten it around my wrist.
Stay with me, know me, everything will be fine.
All I think about: you denying me, the maroon.
'Tis the reason we contrast so much in each other, because...
Two stars that fall under two different moons.
This obsession, my burden, destroys what I once was.
The Us and the IsI act out who I think I amThe Us and the Is7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Searching for the one I think Ill be
When the mirror plays out in symmetry
Two halves will align
I have learned for my existence
Love is my humanity
I am alone when I am not found
And we are found and alone episodically
A never ending cycle
Never to be questioned
For fear of a discontent
Spontaneity gave birth to originality
And my mother gave birth to me
She breeds my confusions and fears
Runaway children and adopted mothers
Self-loathing has never been kinder
Disordered thoughts develop
And normality becomes nauseating
Who is yourself
And who have we become, you and I
Best FriendsYou used to always tell me how it feltBest Friends10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When there was nothing else that mattered
But being with that person
Who was just as fucked as you
And who said all the wrong things
And would out their anger
With a pen and speaker
And we would always laugh
That kind of nervous laugh and turn the volume
Up until our heart beats would race it
You would have a shouting match with Anthony Green
And those hair ties would finally break the skin
Well those days were forever ago
And Anthony Green's voice never sounds the same without yours
Even at shows my heart beat never gets that fast as it did those nights.
I'm begining to believe that there is no such thing as best friends.
Oratories and Laboratories...Oratories and Laboratories...11 years ago in General More Like This
A Rebuilt Life
I. A tale of the illegal, the illicit, the illogical
Oratory In the Laboratory - Part 2
"Oh no, Inspector, don't be deceived; that most redolent and pestiferous plague known as 'death' remains irrefutable, life is irretrievable, just as we-" a glance askance to the burgundy-blood-stained lab coat worn by the newly-dead instigated a painful pronoun change, "or rather I, stand before you irredeemable. I embalmed whilst he imbued, an atmosphere imbibed, till catastrophe ensued. The sepulchral saturnine expression frozen to her face became something altogether more morbid." Kneeling, he placed an outstretched palm against the still-warm chest of his brother, as if willing its re-animation in rhythmical respiration.
Something could be felt between thin cotton and quiescent ribs. A creased photograph, its edges damp and scarlet, was removed from the deceased's inner pocket, a familiar sepia smile greeting the surviving sibling.
"Once, her very name was a phonic philtre,
Red ChiefThe red chief, a white old manRed Chief10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Goes walking. Creased is he,
in snazzy shoes and he blows his nose
in the middle of the road.
He walks through towns and cities,
through forests and parks, seeing all
and knowing all.
Yesterday he walked through Berlin,
following white headlights through the rain.
Today he walks through a red valley,
swimming in sinking golden light.
Today the sun is a ball at the end of every street,
and the red chief knows this, for he sees all and knows all,
without being known or seen.
Time and Time AgainWhat would you say if you saw me?Time and Time Again10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
who would you think I am?
How did it happen?
When did it take place?
Why wasn't anyone there?
There wasn't anyone
A single person who cared
But you were gone...
Think I'm in a better place?
Or maybe you don't think
Your mind on other things
It doesn't matter
I was only vaguely interesting
Useful, maybe practical
Probably a hassle
A waste of effort
A waste of time...
Funny how here I have time
To think upon my actions
Like I should've thought before.
I will live in regret
Wondering, if I had waited
Would you have come back?
Instead, you returned
Amongst smiling friends
Only one person gone
Maybe in a better place
And I'm wishing,
I were still alive
To have seen your gorgeous face
One last time...
Or maybe you'd convince me
That time and effort is worth it
Meaning, life is worth it
And we would meet forever
Time and time again..
What's Normal Anyway?I look good.What's Normal Anyway?10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Damn fine I say.
Did you hear?
Hear the laughter following my confession?
And you wonder why I became so misguided
In my futile effort to be perfect
I lost myself and my reflection
Blind, I did not (would not) see the scars
Results of my self-destruction
Never thought I could be so naïve
But finally I had persuaded myself
To open my eyes and see
For the very first time
That I look good
(On the outside)
For someone who cannot help but take these rollercoaster rides into chaos and madness
To hell and back every time I fall down
For someone drowning on the inside
So tell me:
What is it that I DO resemble?
A shard of glass
A splinter in your finger
Come now, 'friend'
Your laughter rings clear
Am I just as broken and confused as I seem
Forever lost in my words (my saviour) of never-ending pain and torment
Misery and of course heartbreak
Of course I am, even now as you stare
Happy now but I'll find a way…
A way to pull apart the fraying seams of my life (on
Love HimHe grins at me,Love Him7 years ago in Limerick More Like This
I return the favour.
I'm so happy around him,
Every moment I do savour.
We chat casually,
I try to disguise me emotions,
My love for him,
Is the size of all the oceans.
He knows I like him,
I can't hide any longer,
He doesn't feel the same,
But it makes our friendship stronger.
I really wish he did,
My friends say we'd be perfect.
I love him, I really do,
And that is probably what you'd expect.
Maybe I'll have the courage,
I do hope he'll agree,
If I do ask him out one day,
I hope he loves me to the same degree.
LovesickIndeed he is a disease,Lovesick7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I love him, for he's infected me.
Love is infectuous?
Took a trip and a hard fall and I'm not gettin back up again,
because I've come down with the sickness.
A sickness called love.
I remember you from trainsI remember you from trains11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The next train to depart from Platform One will be the four-thirty-two, Flinders Street, stopping all stations to Flinders Street except East Richmond.
...And right on time again, she shows up. Yellow t-shirt and denim skirt. Today, she's wearing glasses that I haven't seen her with before and they make her look like a librarian, especially combined with the long, deep, deep, brown hair. I don't need to look her up and down like I have in the past. I have her memorised. After seeing her every Sunday at the same time for six weeks, I could almost convince myself that I know her. After all, I have seen a multitude of her moods. I know how she looks when she rubs her eyes, when she walks, when she smiles, and when she closes her eyes. I could nearly fall in love with her for real when she's asleep.
The train arrives, I open the door for her and sit down about six seats away facing towards her. I have to do this surreptitiously though. I can't let her know that I've chosen t
How to write an exciting blog1How to write an exciting blog110 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
How to write an exciting blog in 10 easy steps!
1: Live an exciting life and write about that. If you don't have a great life, make up stuff you COULD have done during the day.
2: Update atleast once per day. You don't get those all important pageviews if people don't come back every day.
3: Provoke your readers. Politics is a great way to do that. If you live in the US; write about why you support Bin Laden. If you live anywhere else; write about why you support Bush. If that fails you can pretend to have homophobia, hate _all_ animals, be a racist or become a nazi.
4: Tell about your sexlife. If you don't have one, make one up. The more sexpartners, the better.
5: Write horrible things about your friends, family and coworkers. Don't leave anything out!
6: Take and post a lot of pictures, often. Clothes are no good, try to aviod those. If you don't own a camera you should steal other peoples pictures. You should atleast get a webcam to show off yourself, and your cat/dog/whatev
Derivative Depositsthey will derive consistencyDerivative Deposits11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the motion of lax drizzles,
engaging moments with precision,
each peace a steam travel
on a stolid amble amid lit trees
begging for constance,
begging for trespass,
begging for tide...
and you will be
that disconnected line
dotted, for meaning
in some transitory time,
aching for stability
and a thinner crowd.
the silence of a louder shrill
melts quicker than the pelt,
stirring smooth enough to
slick downside the stair
to where we meet in the foyer
at the end of our destination,
and breathless from the ride.
transient paradiseI could go on and on and on.transient paradise10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on how the world is a wasteland masterpiece.
The world is screaming wide-mouthed at me!
All idea of salvation is split asunder,
The human race bleeding at its side.
Guns left and right, ringing like thunder.
Have you heard?
Mammon is our new messiah;
Money and business is on broadband;
Morality is on dial up.
I find myself banging on my desk like a war drum
Sick of the fact that im a whore of the new age:
A slave without shackles,
My dignity continually violated.
With every step of progress, we add a brick
To this unholy fortress of capitalist imprisonment.
Firing squads are armed with guns no longer,
Human death is insignificant.
Being downsized is the real mode of mortality.
Our executioner armed with paper and pen.
I became a creature of destruction,
A being unreasonable and deranged
Nursing angst ridden thoughts,
I am becoming a cliche of our age,
Just another person waging verbal war against the world,
A crusade against an indomitable foe,