Soul SongThe song in my soulSoul Song3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is long and loud
and joyful -
Long because it is
loud because it can't help
but be heard,
crashing as a wave
on the rocks
a sultry summer storm-
it is your song
and you are in
The song in my soul
is brief and quiet
and gentle -
brief because I have
only to imagine
and you are there-
quiet as the whisper
of a lover's prayer -
gentle as the words
murmured in the ear
of the night...
it is your song,
the soul song...
always with me.
SoldierPlease remember me.Soldier3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as a goodbye
DoorwaysWords exchangedDoorways3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
have stopped me
why I was
to be alone.
did love me
of your world
and secrets -
Brave enough?The Sun in it's brightest days,Brave enough?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cannot see into the dark of the heart.
Only you who seeks it,
Can truly be the light that reaches it.
Seek it as you wish,
But never be fooled by the lies seen.
For you, dear wanderer,
Are you brave?
Brave enough to reach into this heart?
I'm not deadHey! Hey! I'm right here!I'm not dead3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hey! Hey! Look, I am here!
Hey! You have to see me!
Hey! Can't you hear me?
Don't walk past without a word!
Don't pretend you didn't notice me!
Hey! Hey! I'm screaming!
Hey! Hey! I am waving!
Hey! Why don't you turn 'round?
Hey! Why don't you react?
Don't go away, don't go, don't!
Don't pretend I'm invisible!
Why? Why don't you see?
Why? Why don't you hear me?
Why do you ignore me?
Why do you leave me?
Don't you see I'm still alive?
Don't pretend I'm already dead!
LaurenFixed-NeverSeen.My goodness I'm proud of you. My goodness, my dear.LaurenFixed-NeverSeen.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I hold her hands, dancing in a field of golden sun. She is highlighted, surrounded by light. Her skin, soft and smooth, unmarked. I stroke her arms gently, before drawing her close. Peaches and cream. Her eyes, deep and blue, look into mine. All I can see is love. It's all around me, making me dance and sing. Hope.
Hatters.We look out of windows,Hatters.3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
And scribble down verse.
Fly off the handle,
Then steal from our purse.
We give chase down the highstreet,
And live out of time.
Show poppies to strangers,
Who are trying to rhyme.
We sail in our boat,
And find our own view.
Spend hours arguing,
But I'm just as sane as you.
Revolver in a Bag of PuppetsRevolver in a Bag of PuppetsRevolver in a Bag of Puppets4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For Christine Chubbuck
On a fiery July morning
your eyes opened with intention
to involve innocents
in a cold steel plot
detailed on pages
in the bowels of your briefcase
wishes birthed in solitude
no light, no hope
Did your hands shake
as you buttoned your blouse?
Did your coffee
go cold in the cup?
Did your eggs
burn in the pan?
Did you think of the children
watching that day,
as the camera's eye
transmitted your pain live in color?
A thirty-eight caliber Smith and Wesson
drawn from a shopping bag full of puppets
fired behind the right ear
slammed against the desk
Screens faded to black
control panels fell dark
in silent horror
Your final statement
against the sensationalism you detested
through a tempest of permanence
Your sorrow felt
like bombs over paradise
COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker
All my work has copyrights
with the Library of Congress.
The Labyrinth of London: The Previous OccupantThe Labyrinth of London: The Previous Occupant2 years ago in Humor More Like This
The Labyrinth of London
A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover
The Previous Occupant
"The Thin White Sleuth…"
The Almighty Disclaimer
Oh Moffat and Gatiss,
Henson and Doyle,
To you belongs all the characters
And none so for me!
A/N: While I write "The Blonde Babe", here is a little drabble about Sarah moving in with Jareth.
"JARETH! WHY IS THERE A HUMAN SKULL IN MY CLOSET!?!"
Jareth ran from the kitchen where he was doing an experiment and found Sarah kneeling before her small closet. She was holding a box with a human skull in it. How in the this world or below can she look so good in flannel pajamas?
The box was labeled "Uncle Yorick". It took Jareth a moment to remember why there was a skull in his closet. When he did remember, Jareth grinned. "Alas, poor Uncle Yorick, I knew him well."
"Jareth, I may have been here for three days but I haven't signed the lease yet. I can still leave free and clear," Sarah said.
"That is our old dealer," Jareth
For You.I wrote those words on my silver screen,For You.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You'll have no idea what they mean.
How they ring,
And how I sing.
Swirling round my mind, the tension grows,
I am the only one who knows.
Just what they mean,
Just what I've seen.
Shadows light your broken face,
Feeling gone, so out of place.
You never realise,
You never knew,
A Tes Souhaits.
Was meant for you.
StellulaWhere do you go at night?Stellula3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Is it to the place where
the hummingbirds sleep?
Are you searching for saftey
in the moonlight?
You must feel better being alone
while you weep.
Do your feet just carry you,
those times you,
float of out bed,
swiftly and quietly and nimbly,
while the thoughts spin around
in your pretty head.
How do you make it
down the hallway,
without making a sound?
Do you glide on by,
like a bird of prey?
Or do you really glide at all?
Sometimes I imagine your face,
as you step out of my door,
your eyes alight with passion;
in the finalness of the night -
A smile breaks across your face,
as you slip away into the sky.
I am back in bed,
dreaming of your embrace,
when you finally become you
and I remain I.
What is like,
to chase the heavens
and the stars,
to feel the thunder
of the wind,
to escape these
Are you sad
when you watch the sun rise,
from the east,
When the trees become
filled with song,
When the skies become
a soft pe
The Feelings That LingerThe Feelings That Linger:The Feelings That Linger3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The sound of your voice still lingers here
Even though I know you're gone...
And my nights have turned to sleepless days;
They grow worse with every dawn...
You've probably heard this story though
At least a thousand times or more.
But the thing I remember best about her
Is the sound of that closing door...
It was like the end to everything;
A cloud inside my head.
When I came awake on that final night;
I reached for her in bed-
But an empty space was all I got;
There was no one to wipe these tears.
I could scream and cry for many hours;
But it wouldn't chase my fears.
I tried so hard to tell myself
That everything would be alright.
But instead I ended up reminsicing
About her ever-present light...
I'm just so tired of everything;
I wish I didn't have to think...
But maybe you'll hear me one last time;
If I put this down in ink:
We had a life that was beautiful
Twilight in five minutesTwilight in Five MinutesTwilight in five minutes7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
BELLA: I'm dependent, weak, clumsy, and appealingly feminine.
MIKE: Hello, Bella. I'm your self-appointed lapdog. I will love you and worship you and protect you from harm and never leave your side.
BELLA: Piss off. Your obsessive, immediate devotion skeeves me.
EDWARD: I'm gorgeous, dark, mysterious, and appealingly masculine.
BELLA: Oh look, something male and physically attractive. Hello, Physically Attractive Male!
EDWARD: (Spotting Bella) --grumblesnarlgrowlglower--
BELLA: Oh no! Physically Attractive Male hates me! Whatever did I do to deserve such unwarranted hatred?
BELLA: How suspicious and heartbreaking that he hates me so. Oh wellhe's beautiful, so all his wrongs are to be forgiven.
Here, BELLA is nearly smooshed by a car. EDWARD, however, displays inhuman abilities and SAVES her.
BELLA: Edward! You saved my life! I love you!
EDWARD: (Muttering under his breath) --Darkmysterioussuperpowerssnarlsmirkswagger--
What is Love?What is Love?What is Love?7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A memoir? A guide?
Is it plain like a dove
Or something that won't subside?
A piece of my soul
My untrue heart.
If I don't have it, am I whole?
Will I cry if we part?
Define it. Simple and blunt
You can't, can you?
If you can love the one you hunt
How can you love without a cue?
The unanswered reply
The prayer of every day.
You don't have it. You ask why.
The drifting makes you go away.
Away from what? May I ask?
I have nothing, except for my dreams.
My sworn mission, my task
And nothing is what it seems...
For whom should I fight?
What love awaits me?
When we bound, we are tight
I wish you will never leave me...
Whoever you are... whatever you do...
Even though I haven't found you...
I will wait, I will search...
Untill you are closer to my reach...
ZombiesOpening my eyes, I saw a great, vile yellow sky. This isn't right, I thought. Peering at my arms and legs, painful as it was, I saw the familiar mix of orange and black from the HEV suit. Though my body protested, I managed to stand up, and look around whilst sweeping dirt and grime off the suit. Around me were building, or rather, husks of what used to be buildings. Yet, there was a noise, that permeated through everything it seemed, a dull drone that seemed almost human. The familiar drone of headcrab infested humans. This is going to be one hell of a ride, I thought to myself.Zombies8 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
After searching around the shed I found myself lying near, I pilfered one of the tools lying inside: a crowbar. Checking the balance of the tool, I moved out, thinking of all the zombies I'd have to go through before this was done. I hated the things. Their strength was unmatched by normal humans, but
ScrapbookScrapbook9 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Leafing through the pages of the story of my life
Staring at paper yellowed with age and abuse
Pictures blurred and words scribbled through
I wonder what happened to half my life
Some of the pages were torn out
Where could they have gone
To the trash or maybe the fire
Away with my thoughts and dreams
Bruises and cuts burned away to nothingness
Life is nothing but a scrapbook
Filled with photos and entries of my life
Beaten and battered from negligent use
Parchment falling out to be stepped on
Blood still stains several pages
White-Out when I was nine
Highlighters when I was fifteen
Sharpee when I was eighteen
Now there is writing in pencil
Does that mean my life will change?
Where is the eraser?
Let's rub away this memory
Why can't we all just forget
Life is nothing but a scrapbook
Strands of hair and a picture of my first love
The cover is starting to bend
And the spine seems to be cracking
I could burn the entire thing
Forget it all and start anew
But where would that get me?
By the Hand of BastBy the Hand of Bast4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
With the last hieroglyph finished, Wati set aside the scroll he had been working on. He closed The Book of the Dead and ran his hands along the cover. Despite the fact he wrote these words on a regular basis, never had it been so hard. Ra had long since disappeared for his usual voyage, and the wick of his lamp was nearly burnt to the end. As the flame died its orange glow was replaced by the ghostly light of the moon filtering through the linens that covered the windows and door of his small hut.
On either side of the doorway, stood the shadows of two pots. It had been many days since Tiankhit had left him, but still the barley continued to grow. Wati had so hoped for the emmer wheat to sprout first. Like all men, he wanted a son, but had come to love the idea of his daughter just as much. They were overjoyed when the first leaves pressed their way up through the dirt to tell them the news of their child, and the days passed with excitement as they waited to see if they grew to be bar
Dear Diary"Rosette, I...I love you."Dear Diary9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It hasn't been ten seconds since those words left my mouth and I already know they're a mistake.
I knew she'd be surprised, but I didn't think it would be like this. She looks completely shell-shocked, as if I've just dropped a bomb on her. Although in a sense, I guess I did.
I didn't really expect her to be this stunned. After all we'd been through together, I thought she had some clue as to my feelings for her. I even thought there might be a chance she felt that same way towards me.
I hate being wrong. Especially about things like this.
She begins to shake her head, slowly. What does that mean? She doesn't understand? She's trying to clear her head? She doesn't know what to say?
She doesn't care?
My God. I can't do this.
And with that thought, all my resolve leaves me.
It took me almost two weeks to gather enough of it for me to tell her at all, and all of a sudden it's gone. Poof. Kaput. Vanished like it was never there in the first place. Seeing as how t
Glomps and MoreLook at the comments...Glomps and More6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Cries of Fluttershy 2Cries of Fluttershy 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Is it because...I have a pair of wings...?
Would you be the same...
If I shed my pair of wings?
-Vader, Wings (for Fluttershy)
The rites are drawn...to celebrate,
The fall...that never happened.
Over. And over...you kill the same god...
Whose name, I don't even know...
-Vader, Wings (for Link)
CRIES OF FLUTTERSHY
The tortured body of Fluttershy rested in the strong arms of the dark armored Link as he quietly searched for the exit in the endless maze of earthly stone, her hurt body wrapped up carefully in the black cape of the armored Hylian to keep her warm. She was too weak and blind to walk on her own, even so, he would of carried her still. There was no telling what she had gone through down in this haunted, hellish web of tunnels beneath the surface of the world. And if they were attacked, he wanted to ensure she could keep up with him.
Link was busy watching the many entrances to go down and thinking who, or what, would want to do this to his friend. She was l
Cries of FluttershyCries of Fluttershy3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Guided by figures, sculpted in ivory.
Place, where absence of life.
Does. Not. Mean. Morality.
Imagination is one with memory.
And memories are so real.
Unveiling the mystery.
Storm choirs are wailing.
-Vader, When Darkness Calls
CRIES OF FLUTTERSHY
A dark shadow moved in the dim halls, silently treading along so as not to alert any "suitors" on patrol. The slow dripping sound of water caught the ears of this lurker. A few torches were lit, but the rest were long since diminished. It was cold and damp, the total opposite of the world he was in only days before.
A silent sob echoed down the hallway, and the shadow stopped in its advance. Instinct kicked in, and the shadow reached up to place an armored left hand on the hilt of a sword. Silence followed as this lurker listened intently.
All was silenced again, but the chilling air had yet to subside, even as the shadow inched near a lit torch.