FallingFallingFalling7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is different than sinking.
s l o w
When you s i n k,
f l o a t
you at least have water to in.
When you f
Synchro-CityThey breathed in unison. All over the city, all over the planet, the bots were breathing together. They moved and walked and spoke as their individual programming dictated, but their breathing was synchronised, in and out with the constancy of a ticking clock. She was in her twenties when she first managed to make her own working robot and it breathed with inexorable regularity. In out. In out. In out.Synchro-City7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
"Hello," it said. In out. "Are you my mother?"
"The female creator of my form," it insisted, "The instantiator of my existence. Are you my mother?"
She had to concede that she was, although the term made her uneasy.
In out. In out. It breathed just like all the other bots did.
Without access to the research databases, she had made a very basic effort at its programming, and that meant it needed to be taught.
"Do I have a name?" It asked her, as she was showing it how to clean the windows. It was standing very close. She could hear it breathing in out, in out.
"No. Would you
Only you'd be brighterI would hold you, but that heat sinks in, binding our flesh and throwing us into that maelstrom and I remember how at one time you said youd give me the world and I refused (I would rather have you).Only you'd be brighter6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Im waiting for you against cold tile, underground, under city, under busy lives and business suits, waiting for the green to spark and light up every morning of almost every day- youre dead to the world but I dont care. Youre there and all I can think about is that escalators arent nearly long enough.
I would give you everything, as many firsts and lasts as you could think of, but would there be anything left for you to love?
And now Im waiting for more daylight hours and rain. A storm, far away from the crowds and heat, is the stage and were the play, one about drenched kisses and long walks, stuff of trashy romance novels but far more real when its with you and far less cliché.
Summer would soon roll around and wed be apart
PassengerPassenger8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She wrote me:
This is the time of all things read;
the time of books, clean hands, straw dogs,
shared looks. This is the time
that finds the time to settle down;
to open that smile with enormous plans;
to pound on metal rolled with rust;
to lie when lovers lie, alone, quiet,
in kitsch and style.
She wrote me:
Death for some is a careless cat,
one that lacks a voiceand love
and never plays chess.
But that is not my choice.
You see, I prefer the quieter sort;
the kind of death that stalks one
through shapeless blur, a caress of trust
and a lack of breathnow three, now two
a sweet bluff and a face that looks
of you, only that's not enough.
I remember the films during which you cry,
and the way you hide it, fiddling
with your change to make your eyes avoid
the two mice riddling some pocket full of holes.
I remember the nights you tried to pray.
You clasped your hands and dreamt up God
and what he may or may not do. And I,
following November, came with you.
afteri.after7 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
it is the saddest thing in the world when you suddenly find yourself loving someone you were once in love with.
i am grieving. when i cried in flight my eyes were so loud the birds heard them. i had it all planned out, what i was to say if they asked death in the family because one way or another, it was true. but they never looked; never spoke. perhaps my sorrow is less potent than gravity. it has no force of its own but for the currents that swallow me whole and spit me at the sea, disdainful of my state.
i am dying, because i cannot fly.
i am in a place where the flowers have not died and the trees are pea-soup green always, but there is no such spring in my heart. though your trees be bare and bearing all the ravens, i cannot see into my branches and all the birds are hiding from me. when i call for them, they make for a sky i cannot reach.
i am lily-skinned and holding
Modern MagicThe witch Baba Yaga once baked herself breadModern Magic8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
out of spiders and liars and red razorwire
that was garnished with flowers from the vaults of the dead,
and sweetened with lye from a childs funeral pyre.
It was light as the crisp, cracking bones on the fields
and as sharp to the taste as the ash-scattered shards
that were all that remains of the swords and the shields
of the warrior king and his bold bodyguards.
In a chicken leg hovel at the edge of a wood
the witch Baba Yaga licks the dregs from the spoons
that she used to stir soup, spiced and thickened with blood
that the dying ones spilt from their widowing wounds.
But her low kitchen table will never be laid
and her bonewafer banquet will never be served,
while ghostly white whistles pipe a last serenade
as shes swept to the moon by the swerve of the earth.
The witch Baba Yaga in the coldness of space
weeping tears for the cage and her gingerbread home,
but icicled, weightless, they fly in her face
with the regular tick of
atrophyi.atrophy7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i write is about you,
even when i excavate
the deepest mines of memory
i know this love is an act
of remembrance, that every
other thought i have had was
no longer now.
i want to be a hunter
again. i want to be lord
of my sky like the tern owns
her dimension even as her tears
water my face, because i
have already used up
all my weeping;
there is no salt left in me.
this evolution of feeling
is not something i understand.
i am a child growing away
from motherly arms and
this sea is too wide to fit
into my eye
but you are the younger and
i am not yours because you
are too raw to lie into my
this bed where there is no rest.
if you could read my blood
and fathom my flesh perhaps
you would see how you have
withered every tendril you
insinuated into my insides
innocuous as morning sun.
this skin does not know
your sight. this world
does not know your colour
Pirates of Penzance AbridgedPirates of Penzance Abridged7 years ago in Humor More Like This
Arrgh, aargh, me hearties. We must search for the black pearl..
Oh, right! Frederick, our apprentice has turned 21 on this warm and sunny day in late February. Let us rejoice and drink pink alcohol.
No pink alcohol for me! For I must leave you.
Why? You're a better pirate than any of us.
I'm not an orphan so I don't fit in. Anyway I'm the Slave of Duty and must therefore kill you all!
That's so sad! I have to cry for the man who is going to kill me. Goodbye! When you kill us make it quick.
Of course! Though there is only one of me and 20 of you, I'll be sure to kill you quickly.
Just make sure to take your girlfriend. PLEASE!
But she's old enough to be my mother!!
Exactly. Bye now!
So - are we leaving?
Sure! Why not. Hey, wait a second...
Daughter and Mabel
(sings) Climbing over rocky mountains..
Oh my god, they're gorgeous! Screw th
School Nativity PlaySchool Nativity Play12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Miss Williams! Miss Williams!
You'd really best come quick!
The wise men keep on arguing,
And Joseph's just been sick!
The star somehow got broken,
We don't know yet who did it,
Some say that it was Lizzie -
I think it was Ned Pitt.
The girls were playing with Jesus,
And his head somehow came off…
And the boy that sings the solo,
Just got a nasty cough.
The wise men are still bickering,
Over which of them is most wise,
And one really seems to think,
That he's God in disguise.
The shepherds have just lost their sheep,
And don't know what to do –
I don't suppose that you'd know where
To find a random ewe?
Betsy says her tooth's come out,
And that she wants her mum;
And by now Joseph is looking
Really rather glum…
The audience are coming in,
But we're really in a state,
Do you think they'll mind too much
If we're about an hour late?
The scenery's fallen down again –
I just thought that you should know,
And, Miss Williams, you'll never guess…
Miss Williams? Where'd you go?
JezebelYou walk down the streets of the city,Jezebel6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Empty and hollow.
You dont know what you want,
You dont know what you need.
You just know that your hunger is insatiable.
And then you see her.
From the distance, she is alluring.
When standing eye to eye, she is breathtaking.
When you face her
You realize that you are unworthy of even gazing upon her.
But she stares back at you levelly,
And with a sudden glint, you know she recognizes your secret.
Her eyes become sympathetic,
Full of wisdom
Empty and hollow.
Your heart goes out to this woman,
The one who also yearns
For the same unspoken secret.
And without a word,
She tells you her tale.
You listen, entranced.
Her beauty captivates the mind,
Her magnificence conquers it.
You drink the sweet elixir
And forget the dark details.
It seems so long ago
That you were hungry.
In a moment, your goddess has given you all you need.
And you smile,
But it doesnt take long
Before her splendor has faded
And your belly re
Heart-boatsGive me a song, worth singing from the heights of a clifftop,Heart-boats7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
over to calm the raging seas,
a pinnacle point, to quash the rage of the oceans.
Come to my side, in the pouring rain and howling wind.
Let the squall lash your dark hair across your pale face,
turn your seagreen eyes unto mine night sky blue's.
Here layeth the raging storms of torrential emotion,
which poured forth from a broken, bruiséd and shattered heart.
Here you sung to the storms, though they railed against you,
your steady, confident gentleness soothed the wrath away.
Now together, within my walls we sit and confide in each other,
share long passed secrets and long lost stories.
Between the walls, you and I, we grew to love, in secret,
though quiet, our love grew warmer day to day.
Turning to replace the storms of fear, to storms of passion.
And the vessels of our hearts deftly skim the waves of our love,
no serpents from the deep snap at the keels anymore,
as together we conquered them.
On days of calm we sit a
LearNawaal, the headteacher, leads me out of the glaring sunlight and into the classroom. My eyes adjusting to the relative gloom, I find myself faced with a dozen boys barely younger than me, comfortable, curious, and amused.Lear7 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Minutes before, I and the Brighton Tubas delegation were being shown around the new school of Al Jiflik, a large village spread across one of the many beautiful valleys of the West Bank. It was my first day in occupied Palestine. Before thinking, I pressed my services on Nawaal, suggesting that my native tongue could be of great value in her English lesson. It is for this reason that I was soon politely shoved into the dark but comfortable classroom, and sat upon a traditional wooden schoolchair in a class of eighteen-year-olds.
The maths class is in mid-flow. My entrance shatters the atmosphere of learning, and I notice the presence of another dozen young people, girls, whispering and giggling at the back. Accepting the disruption, the maths teacher who is yo
The Grammar GangstersBeware the grammar gangsters!The Grammar Gangsters7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The mafia of the literary underworld.
They saunter into stanzas,
Under their trench coats
Or in violin cases.
They can make you talk,
"With just a few well-placed speech marks,"
Leave you shouting! Where you should have whispered!
And pulp your bold statements into quavering questions?
They can, pepper, your, phrases with, commas,
Or bring your piece to a dead.
They'll trap you (between brackets)
As you - dash - to the exit.
Then: punch a blunted colon
Into the gut of your text
Force-feed you a poisonous semicolon,
Then hack/slash your work to shreds.
The grammar gangsters
Never leave survivors.
Readers discover the victims
In the back alleys of the library,
In a tommy-gun ellipsis...
temptation never tasted.if i'm the smoke in the middletemptation never tasted.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the night then you're the fire
that's daring to breathe me into the
stars. and if i'm the steam fogging
up the windows, then you're
the ravaging fingers on sweat-
slicked flesh that's birthing it.
because neither of us are sweet
summer lullabies or gentle may
showers. no, we're nail-bitten
hips and saltwater-lips knocking
over vases and shoving devil-wing
shoulders into the wall. we're
pillaging hunger and insatiable greed,
sinning our way through poetic silence.
we're taking what we want and be
damned what stands in the way.
we're a wildfire tearing down
the forest, a hurricane ripping
the roofs off of the greater
metropolitan area. we're an
unnatural disaster, colliding in
an explosion of sparks and metal.
we're igniting the world until it burns
to the ground, we're wringing out the
ocean. we're standing in the middle
of the dust-hazed war zone we've
created and all we can notice is heat.
looking uptell me how to forget, andlooking up7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i will teach you how to leave.
i will teach you to read downside up.
i will change the colour of my heart
for you, and i will forget
what it means to weep. keep me
on the ground, where i can be sure
of my feet; let me catch the motes
of love that float down from afar.
oh love, will you be my sky,
be my eyelids when i fall?
The Guide to PhotomanipulationThe Guide to Photomanipulation10 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So you want to learn how to dive into the ever popular digital art style known as photomanipulation. Why wouldn't you? It's quick, it's simple, it's popular, and it doesn't take much effort on a piece to get those +favs you long for. Some people think photomanipulation involves conceptual ideas, technical skill, originality, and an eye for composition. But the truth is, the more thought you put into a piece the less +favs you'll get so just ignore those ideas.
Just get rid of that brain of yours because you won't need it. There is no conceptualism in photomanipulation. Now that we've got that taken care of, you're ready to create art. Nothing in your photomanipulation needs to mean anything, you don't need to improve your skills, you don't need to experiment, you don't even have to work hard on a piece, you just stick with this guide and your art will be the coolest thing in town and get all the +favs and popularity you ever wanted.
Your New Style
RaskolOur son and his wife sleep in separate rooms. They are painted the same colour and bear identical scars but are separated by a hall so long that by the time I walk from one end to the other, I am too tired to compare and know what is different.Raskol7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
That is the convenience of an oversized house, I think, that we did not have in our small one-room apartmentthey never have to see each others faces. You remember the nights when we were given no choice but to lie next to each other, against the hard corner, when we were seething in each others anger. How wonderful it might have been to stare at a blank wall, letting the heat of our hands seep into the plaster until we forgot each other, and how to be angry.
I never told you the fear I had inside my heart every time we tore apart and came back together again, that we would forget how closely we fit, or that in the short intervals when we were apart, a piece of the puzzle would come loose against us like a grain of sand, until w
A Moment of SilenceHave you ever felt your brain leaking out the back of your head? Its a sort of peculiar sensation. Brains dont have any nerve endings in them, see. A brain cant feel. But the epidermis has plenty, and I could feel that very plainly, straps of skin twisted up and off plates of bone, macabre cherry-drenched curlicues peeled away from the rear of my skull, hair clustering up into dense blood-smattered knots as some great, shivering, eyeless slug came oozing out the jagged hole that still smoldered from the heat of the lead. The pain was there, but distant, like music wafting over from a neighbors yard three or four houses down. All I had to do to tune it out was walk deeper into well, into the hunk of meat trying to wriggle out the back of my head.A Moment of Silence6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Oh my God! I heard her murmur from a few blocks away, unmistakable bursts of syllable catching on the wind and carrying to wherever I lay, curled and frozen. And then I heard vomiting, distinct and gut-
April's HouseThe man who would be my lover through April had a daughter.April's House11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I showed her Playboys from 1999 and she grabbed at my breasts.
In mid-April my lover's grandmother died in a Michigan hospital.
The night before we had hurried sex on a friend's floor and in his shower.
I lay naked on a dark blue couch watching B list horror movies
with names like Frankenhooker and drank carbonated strawberry wine.
The floor was covered in empty Bacardi bottles and powdered Cheetos
while the bathroom smelled of concentrated bleach and urine.
I could crawl out onto the flat tarry roof through a second story window.
On the fourth of July I sat on the functionless brick chimney and got high.
The roof in South Oakland always reminded me of Mary Poppins.
Vodka coursing through my blood, I danced like a chimney sweep.
A man with bleached hair and long nails filed to a point walked me home.
He said, Margaret, I want you, and I knew I had stayed in a house full of lies.
The Umbrella LettersDear Mr. and Mrs. Umbrella,The Umbrella Letters7 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
I'm writing out of concern for your son Charlie. Since he first started in my class I have noticed odd tendencies in his behaviour. I know Charlie is a special boy, but the way these tendencies develop is beginning to worry me. He seems to be having troubles communicating with others. He rarely plays with the other children and does not respond when I speak to him. His writing is beginning to stray from the alphabet. Last week he even refused to partake in morning prostration! I took him to see the school nurse but he remained silent for the entire time and did not subject himself to examination. I therefore ask you to bring Charlie to a doctor in order to find out what is causing these problems.
Miss Edna Umber, Umbrellium Primary School
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Umbrella,
After the examination of your son, we have been able to establish that he is not suffering from any apparent physical illness or dysfunction. There appears to be nothing wrong wit
kissing your eyelidsi.kissing your eyelids7 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
i cannot tell you.
i am afraid to open my mouth because i know the aperture is tempting, and i do not want you to see the raw that has spread from my heart to the back of my throat.
i am afraid to speak because the slightest movement will give me to you, and i cannot trust that i am ready for the plunge. your hands are inching me closer by the day and i am trying to read the fortune of your open palms but they tell me nothing about how to fall. they dont even tell me your story but somehow they still manage to be the most beautiful thing in the world.
i am standing on the verge. i have noticed that you give yourself better when i am not looking, so i unlock our gaze with the key of my patience and look away when you speak of the things your heart skips over.
anything to make you feel safer.
there is sleep in your voice when your baritone carries over miles of wire and i am amazed it does not crackle with the electricity
Meggie at the moviesAre you sure this is the right movie Mo? Meggie asked anxiously as the screen started to flash pictures of the adverts. Mo stopped munching his popcorn and looked up at the cinema screen.Meggie at the movies7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Im sure Meggie... now come on and get our seats and Dustfinger, make sure Gwin is really quiet! Mo led the twelve year old up the stairs to the middle row. Meggie leaned back and stared at the huge screen. Dustfinger sat next to her, looking around uncomfortably. Farid looked fascinated. How do they make something like that Meggie? He whispered over to her as the lights went down. Meggie just smiled and looked at the screen. A piece of popcorn hit her head and was followed by sniggering. She turned round but it was too dark to see much. She looked back at the screen in time to see a head being chopped off. EWW! Mo! She said in horror, her hands over her eyes. Mo frowned and pulled out the tickets from his pocket.
Oops, wrong screen.
Neptune RisingIve heard the wisdom of the enlightened,Neptune Rising6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Learned men in simple clothes with solid colors,
A poet is like an author without an attention span.
Brother, youve clearly earned your robe.
Doctor, I can see the proof of your degree.
And yet somehow, Im not impressed.
Aristotle would sit both your asses on the curb
Despite never having any idea what he was talking about.
But Aristotle was a genius!
Yeah, arent we all.
Another deified renegade blowing hot air around a cold and empty time bomb,
Lashing forward from an age where sitting in the dirt and
Paid a lot better.
Whiteys wise to the wise mans tricks,
And keeps them flipping burgers.
We need food way more than we need free thought.
So did Aristotle.
Ah, and the shimmering visage doth approach
Applause, applause all right, thats enough,
Shes trying to wiggle out of the limelight.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Feast your eyes on fate