.Free..Free.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Once youre finally free
Theres no going back
When you see the person you can be
You can get your life back on track
Once your wings finally appear
You can see the world so much more clear
When the drugs no longer hold you down
Youre no longer lost, but finally found
Once you move forward
Tell your enemies goodbye
Your voice can finally be heard
Escaping all the lies
Cleanse the evil
Get rid of all the negative
So you can finally live
Once youre finally free
You can find everything you need
Inner FeelingsI'm killing myself slowlyInner Feelings8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Not another calorie shall pass my lips
The trace of bones is beautiful
When I can see my ribs and hips
To rid myself of hate
And all these jumbled feelings
That keep my mind awake
Want to go to sleep forever
Stop this beating of my heart
Forget all these thoughts and memories
Still tearing me apart
Doctors try to help me
Therapists don't really care
People in the street look at me
With their long icy glares
I had a love once
Abandoned me without a trace
But it's ok, really
It's not like I deserved his grace
Want to escape it all
But there's no where to run
I cannot run away from my head
My heart has become so numb
So, you want to know how I feel?
Read this poem with sharpened eyes
Now, you'll see that when I said I'm fine
It was really just a....lie
Dancing with the ProphetsDancing with the prophetsDancing with the Prophets9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
living, tarrying, remaining in their company.
Words that breathe, pulsate with vitality,
expressions that create, lyrics that rejuvenate
dwell in the connections and interactions
that pass continually between the members
of this body of peculiar souls.
A Spirit dwells among them,
no mere result of their collective presence,
but a persistent permeating intention
that nurtures and ripens an enlightened cognizance
in the experience and understanding
of each soul whose countenance
is woven into the fabric of their assembly.
They comprise a carriage of being,
a demeanor of presence so vital
to be overcome by no force of kings,
by no might nor machinery of state;
for this gathering of eccentric outcasts
establishes in their presence an atmosphere
that continually whispers to each soul
re-memberings of who he is,
re-embodyings of the acceptance
in which she is held.
None can walk among them
without growing pregnant with the fruit
of this enabling, entrusting, empower
HerHerHer7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He walked into the darkness without bothering to turn on the light. Everything was exactly where it should be. He sat on the bench and pulled a drag on his cigarette then placed in the crystal ashtray he knew was there. He ran his fingers through his gray but still thick hair and then placed them on the keys.
His touch was light and gentle as if touching the naked back of a lover caressing. The theme yielded and began to flow from the huge instrument slowly, not wishing to give up its secret to quickly. Softly he moved it forward but neither leading nor being lead, allowing it to find its own course, its own resolution. He became the conduit for the music to live. And as the music began to find its center, its purpose, its animus so to he found his.
He closed his eyes and let the massive fugue move freely as he knew the towering figure of the great Bach and done centuries before. The piano rumbled forth the chords as if they were rooted in the earth itself. He thundered a
Toybench: beginnings chapter 2Toybench: beginnings chapter 24 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It all began on one fateful night. Victoria's father, Henry Clemins, was hard at work; making and mending toys. Like always, Victoria busied herself doing the tasks that her father asked of her. On Henry's workbench lay the shattered remains of a china doll. A thick coat of grime covered the doll's skin; the paint was faded and chipped. He wanted to fix it; shattered or not it still could be restored to its former glory. Yet his work kept him from doing it. He sighed in disappointment.
"Father, what's the matter?"
He lifted his head to look his daughter in the eye, "This doll."
"If it's causing you so much grief then why keep it; it's of no value now."
He gathered the pieces and then wrapped them in a cloth. "I want you to mend her."
"But Father, I haven't-" Before she could continue he placed the doll in her arms while giving her a stern look.
Walls Grow ThinAs hoursWalls Grow Thin8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the air
to ears familiar
what can never
Love Always Dies LastHow did it feel to hold my still beating heart in your hands?Love Always Dies Last8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To see the look of surprise in my eyes as you ripped it from my chest?
Was my blood still hot as it poured through your fingers?
Could you feel my pulse as it began to slow?
When my eyes began to close, was it surprise or sadness on my face?
Yes, I think that it was probably love.
Love always dies last.
Oblivion - A Star Trek storySinking into oblivionOblivion - A Star Trek story8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Captain James Tiberius Kirk was having a bad day. He was used to hard decisions of life and death, of war and peace. He knew the immense responsibility that laid upon his shoulders and he knew how great price he had to pay at times and again. Bot now, everything seemed dark, black as the very space his Starship Enterprise was flying through.
Kirk was a starship Captain, some considered him a talented one, some even a hero. For Kirk, now everything mattered not. He was angry, so much that he envied his first officer Spock for his Vulcan nerves. Yes, the Vulcan could always get a grip on himself, but not Kirk. Not after he has heard Admiral Yamamotos message which arrived two hours ago on a top priority subspace channel. According to the message, the Federation could not risk a war with the Klingon Empire under the present conditions. In order to avoid the war, the Federation had to give away the newly discovered border planet Taa-3 to the Klingons, a planet o
The Original Stories of KISS 2The Original Stories of KISS 23 years ago in Humor More Like This
Ace Frehley and his anti-gravity boots.
In the early years of KISS starting out Ace had these awesome anti-gravity boots which enabled him to walk on walls and ceilings.
So one day Ace was going to meet up with Peter at his apartment. When Peter came through the door he didn't know he was on the ceiling.
"Ace! Ace you home?" Peter goes to take a nap on his couch.
*stifled giggles from Ace*
"Well I guess he's not here." Peter goes to take a nap on his couch.
Just as Peter falls asleep, Ace creeps across the ceiling to stand over Peter.
*a few minutes later*
"Well f--- I have to piss"
Walks across ceiling to the bathroom doorway.
Jumps off the ceiling onto the floor, doing cat-like spin, so he lands on his feet.
*another few short minutes later*
"Peter! Peter! Wake up!" he yells at him from the ceiling.
"What? What's going on?!"
"Peter, up here!" Peter looks up.
"F--- you Ace. Your an asshole!"
*insert Ace's amazing laugh here*
*Sometime that week or something like that*
Death of the ArtistRoland Barthes said, "Death of the Author," and society said, "Hey, why not?"Death of the Artist6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They didn't actually kill them, and it wasn't just the authors, either, though there isn't much written about the artists in those early days. The theory was to pretend that there was no author, to better separate the text from the experiences of the writer. Of course, that's impossible to enforce. So society went the other way. If they couldn't separate the author's experience from the text, they'd separate the author from experience.
It worked well, at first. What author or artist wouldn't leap at the chance to live in a commune full of no one but other artists and authors? They lived a kept life, with nothing to do but further their art. Everyone chosen to go for those first test runs was ecstatic. So they say.
Non-fiction authors don't go, of course. I've always wondered if they resent that.
I like to think that my parents are glad that I never showed the artistic talent to get myself shut away in one of
Angels In The DarkAngels In The Dark10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I wonder how it could be,
That I can find such angels in the dark.
It is not the ones easiest seen that I love,
But those you find along your path in life.
They do not hold up a lantern for you,
But a candle that lives so fiercely.
Knowing the candle may go out,
Yet its still as fragile as your may be.
These angels do not sing of harmony,
But they whisper words of encouragement.
They are there when you need them the most,
You just have to open your eyes to find them.
Nor do they have beautiful wings,
They are not perfect in every way.
Some may not have a home,
Living in the faces of the poor people.
The angels that wait so patiently,
Are your friends and loved ones.
Sometimes I just wonder how it is,
That I find my angels... in the dark.
Van HalenThe concert I didnt go to.Van Halen7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and theyre growing older.
A reunion that wasnt supposed to happen. But it
did, incredibly enough. Even better;
David Lee Roth had come back miraculously
into the limelight
Its winter, but barely. I laze
around the house in photographs and pixels.
My parents work together,
but the cheap cash never seems to be enough. So,
he asks me how much; hed pay.
The tickets, I mean. I said
no, I couldnt
go even if I had the cash;
I couldnt let him pay.
So we didnt go.
I have been left with this little burden
some kind of
blinding anxiety, some kind of
crippling fear; a weakness
that keeps me in close proximity to home
so that Im not aware
of true fulfillment, or what I missed
because its just me versus myself, isnt it?
Van Halen will be gone again soon.
Im not weak-hearted,
thank you very much,
but neither am I strong. Maybe
it is the best
night of my life. Mike
at my s
Catch Me Before I FallCatch me before I fallCatch Me Before I Fall11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But it's too late
For I have already fallen
Hit so hard my body cracked
My heart shattered within
Shutting myself down
Closing up to others
My silence forever kept
Catch me before I fall
But it's too late
My horrors now revealed
You're gone forever
And I'm standing here alone
Lost and foresaken
Catch me before I fall
But it's too late
My visions now hazed
Coldness seeping in
Freezing my internal organs
Lost in time and space
Frozen expressions of sadness
No longer do I exist
Catch me before I fall
But it's too late
For I have already fallen
Hit so hard I died in an instant
Vampire LustI do not care that I've caused you pain,Vampire Lust11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My soul is the river, and blood is the rain.
These final days, I spend in isolation
Numb is my body, lying here in the dark
All pleasures are lost that once flowed through these veins.
And there's a hunger for your blood
That drives me insane.
Bluebeard: A Gothic taleBluebeard: A Gothic tale3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Marquis was a young man, younger than I.
He had already married two child-brides before;
this still young widower, this enormously wealthy man in his castle within the forest.
A connoisseur of de Sade and young whores, he married me, a thirty-years-old spinster:
a virgin who was dressed in rich red velvet and lace,
carrying a bouquet of funeral lilies.
It was not my decision, this day of sorrow.
During the wedding-feast of wine, meat and exotic fruits, I excused myself and wandered out of the room.
The candles showed my way to the small door;
I remembered the key of the mistress in my pocket.
I opened the lock;
I stepped to the crypt of the moonlight and the stone coffins;
I entered to the fair of the embalmed bodies.
The resting-place of his murdered brides!
I dropped my key; oh, what a proper bouquet I had chosen!
My husband found me there, gasping air; he dragged me out and took a sabre from the wall.
"You little Pandora! When my guests sleep like
Teaching Summer to BreatheSummer will always remind me of hot, sweltering nights spent drinking sangria, through the dripping fairy lights of your bedroom window. A sticky, starry sky looked back at us, the glow of the moon almost golden in the heat. Fourteen meant we weren't growing up fast enough and a liquor cabinet key seemed to hold the answer to that problem.Teaching Summer to Breathe2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You taught me how to drink that night.
(You also showed me how beautiful it was to just hold your breath till your head spins and reality seems like it is going to fade further and further away.)
Six summers ago I met a boy who liked to tell me how much like summer I was. He was big boned and thin skinned and the first time I told him he wasn't mine to keep, he left handprints on my skin that reminded you of a canvas covered in autumn leaves that you saw in New York. Then you proceeded to break every single window in his house (Yes, even the one in the attic he loved so much.)
You taught me how to smile through heartbreak that night.
Pain of Old LovePain of Old Love10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You ripped my wings away from me,
As I was flying up so very high.
Stabbed me with a broken blade,
After I fell from the darkening sky.
Yet now you say you still love me,
But there is no way I can believe you.
What was once a perfect dream,
Came a nightmare that has become true.
All of my fondest memories of you,
Found at the bottom of my heart buried in dust.
With all of those smiles and laughter,
Fell too my undying trust.
You were once an angel to me,
But now you're someone I no longer knew.
You once told me you'd always love me,
But hell I guess thats in the dust too.
Nobody offers to hold me in the night,
When it was you that made me cry.
Now it hurts to put things behind,
And to tell you my final goodbye.
I'll lock the door to my heart,
hide the key under the tears I cried.
I'm blind and alone in this world now,
Now that I've emotionally died.
No OneNo oneNo One6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I want to take you down by my side
I want to break your heart every night
I want to kiss your breath away
Like you kissed me to death
I want to kill you with my sweet love
With your beautiful face, you made me cry
With your eyes, I will make you see
That there is no one for you
House of HorrorsHouse of HorrorsHouse of Horrors3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Memoirs of a Mad Poet Vol.III
Around me, every twilight,
Through the wooden paneled door,
A clank of heavy steel as they unlock
Then 't is silent once more
Below on the pavement, the banshees howl
With their awful boys and ghouls
Birds and bats flee them at once
Who lives with them are fools
An occasional zombie walks the corridor
Towards the lift, and disappears;
He or she leaves my heart to flutter
From undissipated fears
I wish I could be a vampire
Oh, the power I would show!
But if they refuse to cower and run away,
It will be my turn to go.
Alzheimer'sHis house is made of crumbling slatsAlzheimer's8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of rotted knotted oak
and weakened joints.
The wind blows unfettered
through unshuttered apertures
dragging fresh sunlight in
and memories away.
Even on the clearest days
he visits the front porch
less and less often.
He prefers to explore
those rooms further in
where tide and time have yet to reach. Sometimes
he might be gone for a week.
And one day, too soon
(not soon enough)
his ramshackle dw
Let there be sweet music. I.Let there be sweet musicLet there be sweet music. I.7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"More coffee Professor?" asked the petite blonde.
"Ummm." he replied without lifting his head from the journal.
"You shouldn't drink so much coffee."
"Ummm...yes Clare you're right. You're always right."
He placed his pen on the large desk and arched back in his beaten leather chair, removed his glasses and rubbed the palms of his hands over his face and eyes.
He chuckled, "You're always right Clare...but I love coffee, and there are so few things left to love these days."
"Ahh, he's in one of those moods." She thought
"I'm glad you recognize my value Professor." She smiled down at him while replacing the sterling coffee pot on its tray.
He took her hand in his and patted it gently. "I always know your value." He told her, releasing her hand.
She moved to the opposite side of the desk and sat in one of the worn leather chairs and sipped her own coffee.
"Let's go sit in the garden. We don't use it enough." She took another sip.
"You're going to nag me abou
BrokenI knew you loved me the moment we said I do. I knew it was forever when we had our first kiss. I knew we would have hard times but our love would pull us through. I knew we wouldnt always agree but I still stood by you. I knew by the gleam in your eyes that our children were alright. I knew you didnt mean to shut me out but I still stood by you. When you stopped kissing me goodbye, I still stood bye you. When you chose to drink more I still stood bye you. When you gave me hell for not keeping your house and spending your money to buy food I still stood by you. When you judged every move I made I still stood by you. When you told me it was against your religion to stand by me .Broken7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I stand before you with my broken heart in my hands.