Haikuthon July 2009Haikuthon July 20096 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
gnarled tree roots
stretch down into the pond
resting for a spell
a thousand flags
whip in the wind
praying for profits
in the cool building shadow
in the distance
beyond the looming storm —
hint of orange dusk
a golden half-moon
hangs near distant streetlights
amid gentle rapids
an old tire
over waves of tall
HeritageHeritage10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Since I'm ignorant of your foreign languages
I deeply apologize
With my little French accent
Worth giving up a few kisses
And I stripped
I do before my eyes
Complicated catholic sin
This isn't a part of me
Beauty is an heritage
And I must not make it ugly
Cruelty and harm
Someone I'm not
The pretty cannot be pretty without being real
The right cannot be right without the good
It's already said and done
And I stripped
As I hear the camera click
And I stripped
As I'm sure many can't see the soul
Beneath my skin complexion
And I stripped
That's my heritage
Have you seen my many beauty dots?
Have you seen my childhood scars?
Have you seen the little flowers in my eyes ?
Have you seen the colors of my nails ?
Have you seen the spider webs veins on my chest ?
Did you took the time to know who I am ?
Did you look over my appearances
And see how really I sign my name ?
See the little details from what I'm made of ?
Tears and a soul
Beauty is an heritage
And I mus
resurfaced (sapphire suns)the thing is,resurfaced (sapphire suns)3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if it had been different,
through cigarette-thin lips would've come
my name, wrapped in the scent of amber gin.
on wooden floors we'd be lined in light
again, laying so close. not touching.
if it was a cry for help,
nobody was really listening, were they, not
even your father, and so you left,
left in more ways than one, and i only heard you
when it didn't matter anymore.
the thing is,
you've been gone from my mind and heart
for years now, i've lost count.
days have been more fleeting than my own
inhales, my own exhales, or at least
it would seem.
the thing is, z,
time passes and changes.
my stars were yours once.
your skies were blue once.
if this is your call for attention,
these cyan heavens, these silver pinholes...
your invasion is my defeat.
Harry Potter versus TwilightHarry Potter versus TwilightHarry Potter versus Twilight6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
I am sick and tired of hearing about this Harry Potter versus Twilight thing. The books and authors have nothing in common, except that they are well known and quite popular amongst many people. However even then it is stupid to compare the two. I first saw this comparison when they set up a section in our school library with a board that said If you love Stephenie Meyer, youll love and had a bunch of retarded vampire books underneath (All retarded but with the exception of Vampirates. Theyre vampire pirates. How much more awesome can you get?). There was a newspaper clipping of an article calling Meyer the new J.K. Rowling. By that time I had already read the three books that were out and I was like WUT?! I thought that the Twilight books were good but very overall mediocre and completely different to Harry Potter in every way. Comparing them seemed absolutely ludicrous. Since then my opinion of the books has gone
I Need YouI Need You10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The clouds stretch out for miles
And fog so thick, it blinds me
I cannot see the road ahead
I don't know where it will lead
I can't see the sunrise
But I feel the searing rain
I hear you softly crying
I hear you call my name
I can't see the bottom of this
Never ending chasm I'm in
I hear you sobbing somewhere
I hear your voice within
And I need you to pull through
I need you to do it soon
Cause I can't seem to break free
From where I stand
And I need you to hold me tight
I need that soft kiss goodnight
Cause I don't want to live alone
I don't think that I can
I can't see my shadow
Upon the broken road
Yet I still hear you calling
I see your shining soul
Somewhere, I know you stand
Upon a tattered dream
I want to know I'm close to you
I want to hear you sing
And I need you to make me smile
I need you to make me cry
Cause I want you to make me feel
Like I'm more than just a man
And I need you to walk beside me
I need you to make me believe
Cause I can't bear a life without you
I don't th
a confrontationGirl enters empty room and sits down at a table across from an unoccupied chair.a confrontation7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Girl: Thanks for showing up. This is really hard for me... you know, it's really hard to confront you, but I have to do it. No, just let me speak, okay? You're always interrupting not just me, but my whole LIFE. I've had enough.
Your constant nagging leaves me so exhausted that I can barely move. When I'm with you, I feel like I lose my ability to have other friends. You're so jealous and controlling of me. I can't take the way that you dominate everything I do anymore! You keep me from being able to keep any commitments-- both in my obligations and to my friends, and well, everything really.
I'm so sick of you. You've never done a single good thing for me. I've devoted the past 10 years to you, and all you do is haunt me. It's funny. You'd think that you hate me the way you treat me, and yet you cling to me like it's your goddamn job to torment me.
Pause, Girl sighs.
Girl: People are starting to ask me ab
Of EmoOf Emo10 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"We are so emo."
That's the only thing in my friend Tyler's AOL Instant Messenger profile. It's his way of describing the two of us in the simplest of terms. As far as I know, we're the only two people alive that will own up to the title. Near as I can tell it spells death for anyone else.
What are we owning up to? Our tight shirts, straight-legged jeans, messy hair, and thick-rimmed glasses? Our penchant for bands our age that moan about exclusion, the girl that they can't have, and angry sex? Our shameless fancies for Mandy Moore, Love Actually, and Star Wars?
The stereotypical emo kid cries everyday. He we
Stephenie Meyer Sucks Part 2I got Breaking Dawn on the day that it came out and was hoping that Meyer would somehow redeem the steadily deteriorating quality of the Twilight series. What a huge disappointment. I was even more disappointed when I found out how Meyer was responding to the criticism towards it. Then I discovered that she was writing Midnight Sun. I looked forward to that because, even though all of the books suck, they are a guilty pleasure and Twilight was the best of all of them. Then she stopped writing it! So, here I am, complaining about how these incidents are further proof of Meyer's suckage.Stephenie Meyer Sucks Part 26 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Breaking Dawn turned many Twilighters anti. A lot of them remained fans but refused to acknowledge it as canon. And then there are others who just eat up everything that Meyer craps out. There are many reasons as to why Breaking Dawn is the biggest literary fail produced by Meyer so far.
- Renesmee. Stupid name. Shouldn't exist. You said vampires couldn't have kids. WTF.
- Jacob imprinting on Renesmee WH
still.one.still.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on the carpet, or the whiskey on her father's breath.
(and sometimes, she swears she can smell her mother's sadness.)
when alice was little she remembers playing freeze tag with her mother. she remembers feeling anxious, and now she feels sick. "if daddy touches you, stay still, and don't make a sound."
I lose realityEh, I'm emo-ish sometimesI lose reality7 years ago in Open More Like This
I type my words
On the grey screen
I lose reality
I live my life
In anothers body
I lose reality
I open the book
Printed words fill me up
I lose reality
I create lives for me
Of fancies I keep inside
I lose reality
I lose behind the laughter
I lose behind the whispers
I lose reality
I sink into my mind
As the troubles slip away
And the keys become my voice
I fight different fights
I love different loves
I lose reality
I lose myself
I lose reality
And I couldnt be happier
You bound our spines.It was summer.You bound our spines.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He braided daisy chains and called them flowers; she tangled words and
called them speech. I was the only one who knew
the truth; that the thin lines of cellulose that run beneath the tender skin of a leaf
are not so different from the veins of blood and sentiment
that pulse through syllables as they
smack against your teeth.
I was the weaver. To the art of his flower arranging,
I added in her words,
until it was no longer clear whose work was whose.
I taught her poetry,
and he taught me composition.
nothing in particular
--except how to laugh
at the arching of a word
or the stress of a phrase,
and we would stare at the ceiling and whistle
and cluck and hiss words up into the air,
giving them up as offerings to a deity
long since departed.
Things changed; he
turned to painting, the artist's true calling,
as if flowers were below him,
and she turned to that literary snobbery
that defied my wordspinning.
I had no words of my own.
LustA walk in the parkLust8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So lonesome and bare
Step after step
Wishing someone would care
She held a secret
One that cannot be told
It would bury deeper
Darkness it would unfold
Her tears meant nothing
She still felt the pain
Nothing could cleanse her
She needed to refrain
She couldn't utter a word
It had to be a lie
And when someone would ask her
She'd let the chance go by
Her footsteps loud in the silence
For she was all alone
The secret that she held
Chilled her to the bone
The memories came back to her
And she just screamed and wept
She saw him standing over her
Reminded that the secret must be kept
His hands went places
She should have fought harder
He forced himself onto her
She should have screamed louder
His scent stayed with her
She sees her clothes in disgust
The fact of what had drove him
Was not care and love but Lust
Alone she was in a park
With the secret on her
StuckI will sit here waiting patientlyStuck6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Until you finally realize
That I am not going anywhere.
L'ennui.Tu es en paixL'ennui.7 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
Avec la Paix
Tu réclames l'Amour !
Avec l'amour tu jouis
Et tu réclames
... La Paix !
Avec la paix
Tu es en paix
It Has Come To My AttentionIt has come to my attentionIt Has Come To My Attention3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that people like me
are generally not welcome in fairy tales.
It's the talking birds that do it.
The minute a sparrow shows up to pipe a direful warning
it's all over
down at the first hurdle
The body in the fifty-fathom well
will have to wait
the old woman turned into a hare
the murdered mother in the juniper tree
as I whip out my Sibley guide and look for the entry
with the fieldmark labeled capable of human speech.
For this crime
I have been accused of a failure of wonder
of having chained up my inner child and sent her
to work in the salt mines.
But the truth
(if you really want to know)
is that I have read too many fairy tales
and lived a bit too long
to be surprised by anything that happens in
the cottages of lonely woodcutters.
I can even venture a guess
to why the bear speaks with the voice of a maiden
(my heart goes out to her)
and why, when the animal has saved your life,
you will be required to make a harp out of its bones.
These are o
Dancing in the RainHere is a story of just how amazing this woman can be. The miracle Amber, as I called it.Dancing in the Rain12 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
It was not long after Demi's funeral. And before Joey's death. Yeah I should put these in order, only I thought the happy story should follow the sad one, unless you want the last thing you read to be sad. There was a hot, humid rain. Let's face it, rain in the city is not so great. But Amber, she's always loved the rain. Says it heals and cleanses. It's always cleansed her pain in ways a person can only imagine. I'm not giving credit to the rain for this afternoon, however. It was Amber that healed us.
The band was pretty down. We had finished a song in Demi's name. All of us were filled with memories and our hearts were weighed down. Amber had other plans. She looked out the window and announced that it was raining. No shit it was raining. It had been for a while. I think she was tr
breathless.I have S t u m b l e d.breathless.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
T r i p p e d.
F a l l e n. So far in love with you, I will never find my way back.
I C h e r i s h.
A d o r e.
A d m i r e. every detail about you. Every flaw and mistake will never make me think differently about you.
I C r a v e.
L o n g .
A c h e . for your touch. A simple car
What Would You Say? - DoodleweStuck.What Would You Say? - Doodlewe7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Between where I am.
And where I want to be.
What would you say to me?
Would you tell me it just a phase?
Would you look down on me?
Would you act like it was never said?
Would you feel better to pretend?
Youve told me people have a right to choose.
How their lives will be.
Is it different when its family?
Is it different when its me?
If its fine.
Why am I so afraid to say?
Why do I fear it wont be ok?
Im so sick of being in the dark.
Tired of being someone Im not.
All I want is out.
A secret loveI need to forget you,A secret love7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I need to break the dream thats tearing me apart,
But when my heart runs away,
You steal it back again,
It isn't meant to be,
Yet fate taunts me.
You tease me constantly,
But my heart is on the line,
I'm fragile and broken,
And were running out of time.
Scared to loose you,
Yet longing to hold you,
My heart is torn in two,
All I know is I'm in love with you.
So I will wait,
Until you can say the words I long to hear,
I will close my eyes and dream of the day,
When you'll finally say,
I love you.
Measured in YearsEliza is six and theres something unusual about the morning. The day seems to have forgotten to wake up. Its black outside the windows except the silver pools the streetlights leave on the pavement. She can hear a faint, familiar noise: her parents alarm, an ongoing stacatto rhythm that usually ends just after it begins. She goes downstairs in feeted pajamas, one warm thing in the dark house, one pink smudge in the somber white living room with its vaulted ceiling. She sees her mother sitting on the sofa in her nightgown, part of the pale triangles that lace the shadowed room.Measured in Years7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Eliza stands in the center of the carpet and her mother doesnt move and the alarm doesnt stop. At some point, her mothers head comes out of her hands. Sweetie, why are you up? she asks. Eliza crawls into her mothers lap, but she doesnt find the comforting circle of arms and steady heartbeat she expects. Instead there is a strange communicable urgency in
The Quest of the Golden BoyThe present hour, tarry still awhile,The Quest of the Golden Boy6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and from within the depths remove
the theory of my memory
of which I might reprove.
Beyond the light that never was
on sea or on the land,
come what might, despite respite,
I never felt more damned.
I have seen everything in the light of eternity,
and I have been so tried;
I have taken up my arms to them,
I go in fight to die!
Owing no one but my heart's debtor,
I have stood with my hand upon sword,
and have heard within the long night of death:
'blessed are the dead that die in the Lord'.
If in life's winter I should remember your love
the night would be filled with stars,
and I will feel the breath I took long ago
shall be gone, but shall never be far.
Has this been my artistic error,
that I have passed but I did not give?