Dragonfly 1I'm just like everyone else, am I not? I look like them. I speak like them. I am of independent thought and opinion. I can do everything they can.Dragonfly 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
What sets me so far apart from them?
These thoughts were the only ones that bounced from corner to corner in my mind as I stared unseeingly at the painfully familiar but breathtakingly beautiful mountainous scenery in the distance. I was in a Sentry Tower, my gaze moving its slit focus onto the scrapes and scratches that marred the iron bars surrounding me. Often times my dirty hands had collided with those same bars, granting them the marks that stain them to this day. And each time I was dealt back damage thrice its initial severity; all because of the magic seal placed both above and beneath the cage.
An unfamiliar face before mine interrupted my musings for a minor moment, unusual brown eyes locking onto mine. He had hair spun of the richest brass which fell about his head in a messy yet untangled mass. A new recruit, I thi
Capture of a DragonA large shadow passed overhead, making the darkness of the night darker for those animals that lived in the treetops.Capture of a Dragon6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
A soft thud was heard as something large landed skillfully in a small clearing dead center of the woods.
Bright blue scales glinted in the moonlight as a long neck stretched to the sky. A young Dragon a story tall stood in the center of the clearing, stretching its graceful limbs grown cramp from the long flight. As the scales flashed in the moonlight, it was soon apparent that the scales of venerable underbelly were gold as were the frills and the tip of a long tail that laid partially curled on the ground twitching from the impatience of youth.
Lowering its head it drew in a deep breath. The left eye was a bright old color and the right was a dark blue. It gazed the surrounding area as if to check for intruders. As if it were unsure of the safety of the woods that hadnt been penetrated by man since the time of the Ancients.
As if it now trusted the area it laid
Between the WavesThe day's last sun ray's danced on the low swells of the North Atlantic.Between the Waves3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The steely gray waters were alive with hues of crimson, orange and gold.
Night was coming fast, but that didn't mean I couldn't dance in nature's spotlight for one last moment.
The frigid temperates of the water felt like soothing as they surged against my side.
I breached the surface to breath in the crisp air. My dorsal fin weaved between the currents like a rudder and I steered my own course.
A long day of chasing fish and feasting on the ocean's bounty was behind me. My hunger was satisfied and I had no thoughts except the ocean and how far I could go.
Theme 60: Dreams--EccoTheme 60: Dreams (Ecco)Theme 60: Dreams--Ecco5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Darkness covered the land while the stars glittered in the sky and the moon's luminescent light made the ocean waves shimmer and glimmer--it was as if nature itself was having its own beautiful light show during this blessed night. And like all night time comes, all young, middle and elderly get into their soft and comfortable beds to sleep on (unless you are a night creature, meaning you can stay up all night). Speaking of sleep time, inside a light blue beach house, a 6-year-old dolphin was happily lying down as his adoptive father tucked him in and made sure he was comfortable.
"There now you are all nice and comfy," Sonic smiled, "Well, have sweet dreams Ecco." "I can have sweet dreams?" Ecco asked confused. "Huh? Don't you know what a dream is?" Sonic asked as Ecco shook his head, "A dream is a magical place where anything you ever imagined, thought of or even wanted occurs. Like you can dream about...Clam chowder!" "All the clam chowder I can eat?" Ecco as
A werewolf named pumpkinI ran through the forest nose to the wind wet and cold from the kiss of the wind. I leapt through the brush not a leaf stirring at my passage. Only the trees sentries of the forest witnessed my passage. My paws splashed through a creek and I finnally came to a hedge. I crouched in the moonlight and looked up to the sky. I sighed smiled upon sighting the twinkling stars above me. The night was peaceful the cool wind ruffling my white fur. I almost howled with joy but I was getting close to the farmstead, to the people. I rose to my feet and lashed the air with my tail. Turning around I gazed back into the forest through I was certain I was not being pursued. The wolf hunter had long since lost my trail, at least I hoped so. He hadn't caught up to my in weeks. I hoped I was in the clear. Enough thinking about him I shrugged and crouched tensing for a leap. I cleared the hedge and landed behind a large bale of hay. I ran once more through the tall fields of wheat. It was the time of the hA werewolf named pumpkin4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
the slave dragon - rough draftthe slave dragon - rough draft8 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The Slave Dragon
Drakon flew towards his cave, the smell of fresh blood from his kill filling his nostrils. Drakon hummed in pleasure. He landed in his cave and placed his kill on the floor. He began to yawn and stretch. As he stretched he looked over himself, his bat-like wings half extended, at full length they would be 30ft long, his body 27ft from nose to tail, and from claw to shoulder he was 6 1/2ft tall. Of course, as a reptilian, the females were about 1 foot larger. Drakon watched as the green-blue scales on his back flashed in the sunlight. The scales on dragons could shine in almost any color combination of the various shades of blacks, browns, reds, blues, greens and yellows.
Drakons back and the tops of his wings were covered with green-blue scales and a pale green underside. Underneath the wings at the leading edge, it was an almost golden yellow and flowed to a pale green at the trailing edge.
He finished stretching and looked at his bloody cl
The ArtistThe Artist9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No longer she draws,
her pencils lay restless on an empty easel.
The crude colour'd water,
stagnant, dust covered,
enfolds a waterlogged paintbrush
in its murky, liquid grasp.
No longer she draws.
The canvas remains blank,
as bleak as her emotion.
Piles of discarded work,
lay despair-smeared, forgotten
and ruined by her frustration.
Dried paint clogs her inspiration,
a flow once wild, now gone.
Not even a trickle from those pursed lips.
No creative course,
just a tear drop,
from eyes which once transcribed her feelings,
that now gives away her heart.
Her hands once wrought artistic means
now lay in disuse- pale by her side.
The works near finished
lays upturned and ruined.
Meant to be a self-portrait,
is now self-despair
and scrawled across her smiling face,
spidery letters, carved from pain read;
"Happiness fades away."
A Sad StoryIt shouldn't have happened.A Sad Story5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's just wrong, the water shouldn't be black.
Its so wrong, why is everyone leaving us?
Strangers fleeing, never to return.
Friends leaving, never to be seen.
No one caring when we start to disappear, die.
Where is everyone now?
Long gone, swallowed by the abyss of black.
Parents dying trying to save their babies.
While the babies soon fallow into the black death cloud.
All fall prey to it.
Those who fly the skies, unable to leave the surface.
Weighted down with the black death.
Unable to fly with the weight, only to lose the fight of life.
Those below, strangling on the black death.
Unable to flee its spreading hands.
It surrounds them with its pain and sadness winning the fight of life.
Why won't you save us from the black death?
There is still some life here.
Survivors of the black death.
But we won't last long without help.
Look at me, I'm already starting to fall into the black.
It will soon be too late for me.
But you can save other if you try.
FallenFallenFallen4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I'm walking on a tightrope. Completely alone I stand suspended above the abyss. Sweat beads on my forehead and my palms are slick and clammy as I clench and unclench my fists. I stretch my arms out wide, taking a single shuddering breath and holding it deep in my chest. A tentative step forward, then a flash. Only a moment but it's there and I see it. A bloodstained hand grasping my ankle. Another and another until nothing but images of death and destruction surround me. Scoot, Matlock, Smith, Derriere, Nathan, Jones, O' Reilly, to name but a few. The images of the dismembered and disfigured corpses of my comrades, my friends, flash before my eyes.
Their deaths plague me, theirs and a thousand others. I want to shout and scream, but in this strange world of stagnant air and perpetual night I have no voice. And then I realise I'm falling. No gust of wind or sharp push has toppled me; but my mind has unbalanced and unhinged me. For a moment I hang almost frozen in the still air,
Headhunter's DirgeHeadhunter's DirgeHeadhunter's Dirge9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we the window-
takers, spear spirits. wei-wa-la.
the bright tooth
stabheads the spiked skulls
thrusting. we suns rise razors on the eye
lift lids oh sightless oh.
fashioned death the artifice
the fire and workman hammerless but bloodstained:
metal pour in, metal pour away.
we long lean sharplid shadows
with the moon.
The brutality of loveA person is molded and woven together in his mothers womb-The brutality of love6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Vibrant, creative, a creature set apart to roam the plains of earth
filled with potential to procreate,
to be fruitful, to be himself, the only one like him, a unique work of art.
Until they speak.
They speak death into his mind, alluring mediocrity
they build their structures to constrain him
they place fences to withhold him,
to deter him from living dangerously
with passion and meaning.
The world fears when an individual awakens
and steps up to the stage in boldness with fire in his heart.
They fear passion, for it challenges their cowardice,
like finding sharp pins in the comfortable couches they sink into.
Reality is scary.
Love is scary.
I mean real love...
Forget pretty flowers
and little red hearts
teddy bears and
cards with angels
Feel the bitter pain
as love creeps through
the blood that covers all,
all those deepest, darkest stains.
Tremble in reverent fear
as love takes up a cross
Keep BreathingThe storm is coming...Keep Breathing5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The blonde's cell phone rings with a happy tune. He pulls it out of his pocket and smiles at the Caller ID, flipping it open. "Sasori!" he says excitedly. "I knew you'd call! The skyscraper is amazing. It's like nothing I've ever-"
"Deidara," the redhead on the opposite end says, almost sternly. "You have to get out of there."
"I know you're upset that you couldn't come with me, but sheesh." Deidara rolls his eyes, as if Sasori could see it.
"Listen to me, Deidara." Sasori switches his phone to the other ear. "On the news... Look, just leave. Please."
"Why?" Deidara asks, puffing out his bottom lip slightly. He puts his hand on his hip and says, "You're kinda scaring me." There's an odd, choked noise on the other end. Deidara falls silent for a moment, then asks, "Are you alright?"
Sasori clenches his fist. "I will if you just get the hell out of there! Deidara, there's a bomb! It's not one of your little artistic fireworks, it's a real bomb! It's a
Roman HolidayRoman Holiday11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The gypsies pick my pockets, pick my purse
Their clever fingers deftly, softly pressed
Against my skirted hip, my sweaty breasts;
On swelt'ring, crowded buses, tourists curse
And slap the hands of gypsies; none the worse
Are they for failed attempts to cheat their guests
They disappear like ghosts into the rest
Of those who guard their pockets, guard their purse
'Gainst thieves on such a hot, unpleasant ride
'Til I, a naļve trav'ler, turn my head
Then gypsies press up closer to my side;
Pretending not to notice hands that tread
Across my body; I will let them roam
For through their gestures, I am part of Rome.
Dear You pg1There he was. That gorgeous kid that always sat by himself at lunch. I knew I had been holding back for too long, and I knew that this was my chance. After all, it was spring and I had practically stared at him every day. I usually went home after school starving because I forgot to eat, too distracted by him. It must have been something in his eyes. Something secretive, something... that kept pulling me towards him. I don't know how to explain it, but it was like it was calling me. It had been calling me all year and finally, I decided to walk over to him and set my tray down next to him. That way, I could glance at him from the corner of my eye without him noticing.Dear You pg15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I was shaking, and I knew it, so I began idly poking my rice with my fork. I cleared my throat and said, "I realize you sit by yourself a lot." Not good - my voice was trembling, as well. I felt myself turn beet red. What a moron.
The kid said nothing. He blinked, but that was about it. He just jammed a grape into
Permanent MarkerPermanent MarkerPermanent Marker7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
We both said it would last forever,
Like the names we wrote on our folders
With permanent markers-
But even permanent marker begins to fade-
Like the rest of our lives,
Just withering away-
So I go over the names on the wall
With a marker every day,
In the hopes that even though it rains,
The ink won't fade-
So when we wrote on our arms
With the permanent markers,
And we promised it would never die-
I see now,
That in the rain,
The inks will fade,
And that you lied...
over-extensionhere i am cultivating my little garden of loneliesover-extension3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a sponge, a chair, a shoulder
here i am with a wad of cotton batting, filling up my cadre of empties
line you all up on the shelf in the back of my head
pull you off and hey, lovely, how are you today?
how was the test the date the hospital the visit to the morgue
did you panic did you leave him did you hurt yourself
are you all right?
here i am lab doctor of chemistry far away, drugging up my
Pirates pg1"Master, you know your father would rather you not play with swords."Pirates pg15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Oh, do calm down. I'm not a child. I know how to use a weapon." The blonde boy danced around his elegant bedroom like a true swordsman, swiping and stabbing at imaginary enemies.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you. He shall be very upset."
The boy spun and pointed the tip of the blade to his black-haired servant's throat and looked at him with vivid cerulean eyes. "He shan't be upset of what he doesn't know," he said with a chuckle, and put the blade back in its sheath. "But thank you for checking on me, Madara."
The elder sighed and said, "So be it. But when you gouge your own eye out, do not come crying to me."
"Captain, land ho!" the young brown-haired boy shouted from the crow's nest. He climbed all the way down and dashed up to the captain, who was a rather short man with blood-red hair and chocolate brown eyes. "We've reached land!"
"Fine job, Tobi, but I heard you the first time." The captain ruffl
If You Would Have MeIf You Would Have Me8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If You Would Have Me
If you would have me, a voice of
unfathomable power whispered.
Amidst great destruction and misery
where death lurks around every corner
and beneath every shadow,
And you cry out into the darkened sky.
If you would have me, I will stand by your side.
As the chains of stress grasp your arms
forcing you into endless despair
smothering the light of hope.
A small wish fights in denial.
If you would have me, I will be there.
The ragging battle thunders
in every space heard by your fragile
spirit, drawing away strength and courage.
Call do you for escape.
If you would have me, I will give it unto you.
In confusion and sadness
where none make known
as purpose slips away unnoticed.
Counsel you seek, Guidance you crave.
If you would have me, I will teach you.
In the diminishing light of another
who desires that which you can give,
Insecurity and fear battle
against the silent voice of personal will.
If you would have me, I will encourage you.
When in question of the
don't get me started on googolsI was thinking about a trillion today.don't get me started on googols2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I read an article in the New York times today that said
we domesticated first-world humans consume one trillion plastic bags every year.
I read online that the United States combined national debt is sixteen point nine trillion dollars.
Imagine a trillion plastic bags.
Imagine sixteen point nine trillion dollars.
Imagine a string of a trillion plastic bags full of sixteen trillion dollar bills,
stretching out in a tied-together line around the earth, spiraling out in orbit.
Imagine a beach.
Imagine counting the grains of sand on a beach.
Imagine a trillion grains of sand.
Imagine a trillion seconds.
Imagine how many leaves are sitting on your front lawn yet unraked.
Imagine how many.
Imagine how many lawns it would take to get to a trillion.
Imagine how many bottles of soda you buy every year.
Imagine how many bottles of soda you
and your friends
and your friends' friends
and your friends' friends' friends
buy every year.
Imagine how many stars.
Bar Hopping with the DeadThey lost Bob in Hong Kong.Bar Hopping with the Dead4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
peace.a dog-eared copy of oscar wilde's dorian greypeace.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pale-colored window light beams in my boring
pastel-green striped men's shirt size extra-large
breathe my steam on the window and wait for winter dawn to break proper.
balloon|fulthere is a colorful myriad trapped and straining behind the organo-cellophane of this stressballoon|ful2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an orgiastic jungle of snippeted preschool construction paper and tiny animals like the ones that mum dreamed about on opiate medication after a fall,
crawling beneath the spherical membrane of no, not now
of Kantian triangles and Bertrand Russell's views on pacifism and modern war
and you're all very interesting, the lot of you,
but I don't have time--