'Just Friends''Just Friends'11 years ago in Teen More Like This
Never in our whole relationship had there been an uncomfortable silence between us. From the moment we spoke at school, to the first time we went out in public together..
all the way to the times when words were not needed to express our feelings. one look from you will always be worth a thousand words.
Now I realise, looks can also kill..
It started off innocently enough, as all friendships do. I never thought anything of it at the time, everything seemed so new. Making so many friends, who was to think this would be anything different?
This would be something magical.
We enjoyed each others company, perhaps a little too much to be innocent.. but still all the signs were ignored, kept away in the secret corner of our hearts, the thoughts much too unthinkable and private to speak.
But actions speak louder than words and soon enough, talking on the phone became an everyday thing and the hugs were ever more constant. I guess I liked how it felt being held in your arms, so safe and protec
Vocab2-PhaethonVocab2-Phaethon10 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The moon was rising, a siren from the deep, her light shimmering with terpsichorean lucidity, glimmering and vacillating through the sky, calling out the creatures that flourished in the darkness of the night. However, on this night they stayed in hiding, giving the land a Plutonian aura, a deserted and grim shadow that enshrouded all. A silence, all encompassing and arcane, a silence that connotated a deep seeded dread had crept up on the lands like a gorgon disguised, enmasked as peace or tranquility.
Phäethon was slinking through the old, Stygian, murky wood, the gloom of the land prevalent on his mind, terror clenching his heart in an iron grip, barely letting it beat, and icing his mind until he was physically trembling, quaking in fear. He knew it wasn't safe that night, that They were out, and hunting, but he also knew that if he didn't find his clan, his pack, he'd be as good as dead and his Homeric quest would cease, like his heart, like his soul. And if he did not succeed…wel
Pinnacles of PerfectionPinnacles of Perfection11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The weather is changeable, and full of fruit:
a zesty tang to carve the edible cradle of trees.
Green hued pianists fingertips nimbly dance,
infatuated twigs lust for a young bud
and, when achieved in woody splendour,
plush green embellishment, ever upwards turned.
The youth drenched weed gazed in earnest wanting,
encrusted within his stamen was an anarchists mantra.
Calm the release to trust of life's dangerous procreatives,
mistrust the signposts and lose the generation.
Hearts are inept to emotive confusion,
yet each excretion of sound plays with youth's deafening muscle.
Startled, the truth-raven ruffles feathers to pristine clarity,
suffering in quiet subtlety the bravery of the young.
Erections of wisdom push out of his womb,
lines formate rubbing his eyes, exhibiting the progression of life.
Follow the bend and swirl of the branches,
and evaluate the weight of delicate caresses.
Drink Nectar from the war torn leaves,
they stand swift as masculine flowers and love with hearts wid
Let Go.Let Go.11 years ago in Teen More Like This
"I have to talk to you," Jasmine shouted. The music was loud and pounded painfully in her ears. She speaker was two feet away and the floor beneath her rumbled to the beat. The air was oppressive with the heat of two hundred dancing bodies and colored lights danced playfully across the walls.
"What?" Shawn too was trying to yell over the noise.
"I said I have to talk to you!"
She avoided his eyes when she spoke. Even now, she couldn't bring herself to look directly at him. Her voice was unsteady and her whole body was shaking involuntarily. It had been a complete mystery to her why she decided to do this, but it was definitely too late to turn back now. Jasmine didn't want to be here, partly because she had never liked dance clubs much and partly bec
WishesWishes12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I don't pray no more. I wish. Daddy says I'm a sinner but I don't care.
Maybe I don't have to care about nothing no more. Even if I did, I don't have the energy.
I'm tired all the time now. And I have to be strong enough to make my wishes.
I throw pennies in the fountain in front of the children's hospital. Not the regular pennies though. Ones I find on the floor. Heads up. Cause that means all day long ill have good luck. That means my wishes might come true.
I say wishes, but I only wish for one thing, really.
I don't pray no more. Momma cries about that sometimes. she thinks I'm a heathen I suppose. Some people say it. Maybe I embarrass her. That's why she cries. When I asked her "If god was real why would he do what he's doin' to me? I always went to church. I was a good boy. What'd I ever do to god?" she cried more. I think it was cause I'm right. But I didn't smile or nothing I just went on over to her and hugged her around the shoulders.
That's what daddy does when she cries.
Emphatic NoddingEmphatic Nodding11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will wear my thong.
it is only a wedding.
sod the rest of you.
Dont Blink Too FastDont Blink Too Fast12 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
I make it a habit to tell those I care about every single day how much they mean to me and that I love them. Some people in my life I have lost rather suddenly and since then I have made a vow to myself to do this...
How many more times will you do something that you love? You don't think about it, but every time you do something, it could be the last time. How many more opportunities will you get to speak to your grandparents? They may get sick tomorrow, go into a coma, and never speak to you again. How many more times will you watch the sun rise, or set? You may have an accident and go blind tomorrow. How many more times will you eat a slice of dense, rich, chocolate mudcake? Your doctor may call you tomorrow and tell you that you have diabetes, and are to go on a restricted diet. How many more times will you hold that person you love? They may break up with you tomorrow, and you'll never feel their touch again. How many more times will you roll down a grassy hill, shrieking and laug
Gentle Man at RestGentle Man at Rest11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Stooped and haunted, the gentle man at rest
sleeps soundly, undisturbed, in Sunday best,
asleep ensconced in brittle timeless fire,
and seeking tryst with all of Man's desire.
This poet's words not pure enough to soothe,
nor sharply tainted, cause enough to bruise
the sleeping ego, neat and trim, inside
disrupted harmony - a vulture's pride.
The closed and hidden eye has seen it all,
and shouldered all necessity; to call
it living is to leave it all undone -
the vicious twist of life's true form has won.
Rules to Live by...?1. Never stop thinking. This is important. If someone ever says to you 'You need to stop thinking so much,' call them ignorant in your head and keep thinking deeper. It is this mentality that breeds stupidity and sheeple. Your mind is the most important tool you have, if you stop using it, it will atrophy. Question everything.Rules to Live by...?10 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
2. Stare into space blankly and don't mentally punish yourself for doing it, even if it is for that split second. If you have a problem with staring blankly, think of it as daydreaming.
3. Root Beer sucks after having spicy food.
4. Everything is going to be just fine. If you worry about acne, you're going to get a fucking pimple.
5. Don't be afraid to talk about anything. You shouldn't be afraid of reality.
6. Everyone is a hypocrite.
7. You are all original. Every life experience is case sensitive and unique. Every time you wake up or go to the bathroom or quote someone else, you are becoming more you than anyone has ever been.
8. Do pointless things. Don't act
Across A Crowded RoomAcross A Crowded Room13 years ago in Erotic More Like This
Across A Crowded Room
I watched him. Every Saturday night, he came in. Every Saturday night, I came in. And every Saturday night, we left separately. He to his house or apartment, and I to mine. Yet, I continued to come to Gay Parry with the hopes of meeting him. He came in at 9pm on the dot. He'd dance on the dance floor alone, and whenever any man advanced, he'd simply maneuver away. It only made him more desirable to everyone, especially me. He came in the same time and would always be dressed to kill. His garb read Abercrombie and Fitch, his blond hair flowing whenever he swirled and bumped in time with the rhythm and my heart. His muscular arms rippled within the tight fitting shirt, and slight bulge beckoned from his fancy white khakis. He never glanced my way, though my eyes never left him. I wouldn't even dance. My body remained planted safely on a stool near the bar. I'd inhale whiskey by the double shot, succumb to my lustful thoughts, adding myself into that s
But for Her it was the SnowBut for Her it was the Snow14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She loves this time of year. People say spring is the time to fall in love. Spring is when it all happens, when there are picnics and pool dates and softball games. But for her it was the snow, every time.
Springtime, the sky was to far away. It was piercing blue and miles up. The colors were too sharp and everything was all edges. When it snowed, you could reach out and touch the sky.
She'd turn out the lights, open the curtains, and let the gray light pour in. The soft shadows, she knew, were beautiful. Just in the way they fell across her crumpled sheets, the way they the light bent around objects to fill the room.
For her, it was the snow every time. It was hot tea and cool jazz and Linus telling us the real meaning of Christmas while Lucy demanded to be the queen. Well, she was the little red headed girl, and she was so in love with Chuck that she cried softly at night.
Springtime, no one had to try to fall in love. It just happened, a thousand times a day. But in the
DisposableA book with Grandpa's favorite quoteDisposable10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A poem that your boyfriend wrote
Your little cousin's old toy boat
They're all disposable.
A picture of a long lost friend
A letter you forgot to send
The broken heart you couldn't mend
They're all disposable.
A notebook from your freshman year
With notes from friends you once held dear
A porcelain doll you used to fear
They're all disposable.
The lies I'm burning to confess
The love I'm yearning to caress
The tears I constantly repress
Am I disposable?
The hollow hopes that didn't last
The shining dreams that died so fast
The constant fear of things long past
Am I disposable?
A hopeless cry within the strife
My tears reflected by the knife
The memory of a happy life
Am I disposable?
A cry rings through the black of night
The raven and the crow take flight
A cloud impedes the pure moonlight
We're all disposable.
A bloody pool of hopes and dreams
Overcast eyes and strangled screams
A life that burst out at the seams
We're all disposable.
A body in a
Time Will Heal The ScarsTime Will Heal The Scars14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Time Will Heal The Scars
The wind blew through his curly black hair as he blew into his saxophone, standing on the boardwalk listening to the sounds of the beach. He had been playing in this spot for years, and the sound to him was like an old shoe. The kind of memory that he could not throw away despite how useless it was. His saxophone case was nearly empty of the coins and bills that it usually contained. Tourist season had ended, and like the birds, everyone had migrated elsewhere for the winter months.
There was a chill on the air coming off the ocean. The man put down his saxophone to rest, leaning his thin back up against the railing of the boardwalk. At 45, he had been gifted with a young face, but the years of playing outside just for money had taken their toll on his hands, and they bore the marks of someone twice his age. He sat with his fingers clasped over his knees and stared out at the ocean, its green-blue waves throwing themselves on the sand with a fury that co
Waiting for the rainHere,Waiting for the rain10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the earth cracks like unpolished leather.
A woman sits nursing,
(her life drying up like an ancient waterhole)
and dreams of verdant green.
Spring, she reads in an old school book,
is found in lands that have time to blossom,
while she waits for the rain.
exclaimah!exclaim11 years ago in Typographical More Like This
the pound and the thud and the gasp
and the italian gesture
(! - !) verbose
physical - !
of clenched fists and swooping arms
-but this is
the sun !-gloriously! climaxes over the trees
the silent !-scream! of eyes
as they !-beam! and !-shine!
and - !
just - !
isn't it wonderful!
overriding any question
-a state of ecstasy confined to a mere dash and dot
it just is
a jump a dance a song
(the prelude to a smile)
it is the peak!
and the climax!
and !~vibrance!~ herself
but is also an acknowledgement
(in its silence)
of the silence
but that is tomorrow
The Cruellest PunishmentThe Cruellest Punishment11 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
take this dirty brush
and lock it away from me:
do not give it back.
stop the shaft of light,
let inspiration darken;
my pen will silence.
cut clean at the bloody root:
seal closed the heart valve.
Event HorizonEvent Horizon12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I want to call you a crush.
It was April in the year I turned 16.
You wore a shutdown sweatshirt and a shy smile.
You smelled like summer picnics and street fairs.
You said your name was none of my business.
But I planned to make it more than that.
I want to call you puppy love.
I didn't think my doorbell would ring that night.
"I'll be home. Come on over." It was robotic in nature.
A common courtesy.
"Ill stop by if I get a chance."
You didn't miss a beat.
Jungle remixes and john woo movies.
I was making my mark on the world with Dolby pro logic 5.1
I was carving out my aural niche with a breakbeat hammer and a chisel made from the sound of automatic weapons.
I didn't hear the rain tapping on the corrugated tin roof of the rotting carport next door.
Even though it's my favorite sound ever.
Traffic outside was a dull murmur.
But then the doorknob rang and my world folded around collapsed around the sound produced by the slight pressure of one of your delicate fingers.
Ill never know ho
Vocab1-Stardust and Earth LoamVocab1-Stardust and Earth Loam10 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
I found him dying on the beach, bleeding out onto the mutable shore, frequently doused and choked by the vacillating tides. I had smelled the blood in the water, followed the ravenous sharks and fishes, all licentiously thirsting for that life that spilled into their aquanine territory. I came to the surface, where the noxious air stung my flesh, and I flipped my tail, propelling myself onto the sand next to him.
For my whole life, living under the waves, never had I been able to see the minatory beast that is a human, I'd never been closer than far below a fishing boat to one. All of my teachers told me they were obtuse and insipid, not worth the time of superior beings such as ourselves. And they like to kill, they like to lure the unsuspecting with meretricious temptations and destroy them, like with flashy metal fish on strings, or the floating eggs with nets; the human monster is a thing to avoid at all costs.
However, this pathetic pink creature dying, gasping, eyes wide and tear
The RoomThe room was small, built in the shape of a sphere. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted a bright, blinding white, creating a cold and unfeeling setting. There was no visible discrepancy to the sphere's shape. There was nothing else in the room, and it was kept lit by an unidentifiable source of light. There were no windows, and the only door that led outside blended in seamlessly with the walls. There was no way to tell left from right, front from back. And in the middle of the sphere sat a man.The Room11 years ago in Horror More Like This
His raven black hair was long, dirty and fell to his shoulders in matted locks. He wore a plain white shirt, or at least a shirt that had once been white. Now it had been stained a dull brown-red by blood. He wore a pair of khaki trousers, torn and ripped almost to shreds, and his feet were bare. His nails were long, untrimmed and sharp. His arms were cuffed firmly behind his back, and no matter what he tried they would not come free. His eyes fixed themselves on the section of the sp
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
Seasons1.Seasons9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'll fall into your sun-drenched skies
Begging, oblivious and yearning
To kiss the honey comb and mango lips.
I want to swim in your ocean of
And white dreams and
I will force the lollypop man
To flash the red stop sign before
your brown clouds
unabashed humble tears.
Do you hear me
I want you.
I want you.