A Crows CroonA Crows Croon10 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Colorless is this, this thing I call a life. Though I walk the same as everyone else, though I paint this smiling face on every morning in the mirror the same as everyone else. And I, I also search for my internal happiness, though not knowing it's only a figment of my imagination.
These thoughts that haunt me from getting any sleep. And the fact that these birds scream their lungs out chill my spine, how can one be awake at such early hours and sound so happy, I do wonder.
So I pull myself out of bed, "drag me shadow, for I'm not in the mood to follow you today". Do slip on my clothes for me. Neatly folded on the couch at the end of my bed, like I have somewhere important to go. Throw on my blazer, and head out the door.
Open elevator door, the settle elevator music breaks the awkward silence between me and the man I attempt to start a conversation with. These conversations are always one sided, for he is only my reflection on the elevator door, though he
.The Gun Moll.I once fell for a fancy man;.The Gun Moll.9 years ago in Typographical More Like This
a man so pale and
d e l i c a t e l y boned
that the first time I saw him
s t r [e t c h e d] out in my bathtub
like something that had been filleted.
Fancy Man was a salesman,
and we spent most of our nights
in expensive restaurants
where one glance would have told anyone
that we were poorly matched.
His plates were always an artful tableaux.
Crispy little birds --
hovering on pools of brightly colored purees
and cunningly arranged fruit desserts
encased in spun sugar cages
had a childish paint-by-number quality:
red meat and green vegetables
followed by a little something chocolate.
Fancy Man tolerated my indifference toward haute cuisine
as long as he could,
until the evening
r e a c h e d
across the table,
tapped the tines of his fork on the edge of my plate
and hissed, "You eat like a gun moll."
It wasn't as bad as it sounds.
He meant that I eat passionately,
with an appetite that comes out of desire
and not from w
-waking patterns--waking patterns-10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
...remembering to breathe....
-savoring a delicious intake of air that swallows like a sip of desperation and stale nostalgia.
-the air that escapes my lips leaves me with transparent amnesia.
-with arms embracing the fading heat current that intermingles with cotton sheets and cold sweat.
-returns with a slow exhale of air that hauntingly whispers of dislocated pain.
broken heartedbroken hearted9 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But there's nothing I can do about it
I just wish......................
That.... i had never met Luke
Fate is like that
It was your choice
Luke may one d
'yellow' new picture*'yellow' new picture*10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i wrote a song for you
and called it yellow.
stapled it to a blue dream
and planted it beneath the seams
of a turquoise horizon.
i expect it to germinate,
taint the wind with
rose petal'd scents of a
spring that would
bathe you and i till we crouched, shriveld
beneath the sun,
naked and ignored.
my love is the wings span
of a weather butterfly,
it commands the healing
powers of the cosmos,
feeding on the union
of instinct and blood,
mine is the souls's rod,
prodding the shallows of
my goal is to rhyme
with the silences between
your heart's beat,
so we can beat,
unpaused to the gates
and when we reach death,
our ghost sound patterns
will be heard on
will be heard in the mire,
wil be heard where boulders
our sonic-fied essence
will be heard by volcanoes,
erupting liquid light,
and with the might of
our-post heart beats would
ease the fears of fire,
and evapourate magma
to a warm glow...
and it shall be called... yellow.
whatever happened to him?i'm fighting this battle with myself; i'm fighting this battle with my razor while i'm shaking on the floor. good god, each dose was like heaven. it's like dying without feeling anything; my temporary death. i remember when he first introduced me to it, a sly look upon his face, "snort it if you want," he said, "but i inject". this wild eyes gleamed&we danced around with our minds in the sky&our bodies in the ground.whatever happened to him?10 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
the experience was breathtaking, it was fucking blissful. my obsession, my darling. his body, his body, his beautiful body. good god, you know that i loved him like an addiction, right? i could have sworn they were the same to me.
i left him one day&i can't get rid of the hole. the hole, the deterioration of the kid with his head in the sky, the burning i feel without it--without him, i mean. push it in mePUSHITINNNNNNNNOW HURRY. good god, i can't take the seperation. i've been consumed, i've been consumed, but i can't care anymore. it's over, it's done.
Cliff NotesCliff Notes10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cricket leg serenades
To this Asbach taste that veneers late Tuesday -
Companions to a cork parade
Of characters strolling through the vines;
Residential escape in charmed, young prime
Staving off charge of rolling night.
Fetch your pink,
From recessed cupboards, bottled up
To pour on ice.
Lay the tumbler to the coaster;
Watch condensation droplets
Pool into a question
The modern art above your bed
Grasping for tradition, well-kept
And bred in sound conditions;
A sieve that bled until she cried
From underneath those lines,
And you found heaven
Through that answer in her eyes
Shattering shock of matter melting,
Diluting tonight's pride and worth
As the minutes go by;
Leave rocks behind
To remind of true meaning -
Everything at home is everything that's right.
Tale of a Bathroom FloorHer whiteness stretches aboveTale of a Bathroom Floor10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
me Laboring to create shape
from moist cherry marmalade
(i sigh--so warm, so hungry)
the Tile is radiant but
next to Her it's speckled
dirty like the garbage cans across
the street "She's so clean" kind
of vague blink & it changes.
an isosceles love triangleIf two angles of one triangle are similar to two angles of another triangle, then the triangles are similar.an isosceles love triangle9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Recalling the memory of His geometry makes me sick with longing. That's the real reason I don't call Him every night, don't spend hours stuttering out words onto paper in some tremulous imitation of a love letter. The space I have behind conversation and human interaction is where He really lives, ready for me any time I need to remember. I don't even have to close my eyes before His own stare back at mine, revealing the storm clouds and stars that hover around His midnight-black pupils. The angles of His eyebrows, the slope of His nose, the arches of His eyelashes, the degrees of His gait, the radius of His smile when He sees me, the surface area of His strong embrace; sometimes the formulas back me into a corner where I try to understand, try to meticulously calculate every possible equation. I never solve for the answer before I snap out of my stupor, realizing His abs
Romeo + JulietYou don't know how much I want youRomeo + Juliet9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You don't know how much I need you
I need to feel your heart beat against mine
I need you to survive
Because my heart is devoted entirely to you
We're strangers searching for something
And from the moment our eyes met
It was love at first sight
And I can't wait to see you again
We're so different in many ways
But in many ways we're the same
Look deep into my eyes
Let our fingers entwine
We'll pleasure each other
And tonight we'll become one
I won't let them separate us
If we can't be together in life
We'll be together in death
I'll lick the poison from your lips
The kiss of death
The kiss of an eternal romance
The Cracks of Their FingersWords couldnt even beginThe Cracks of Their Fingers11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to describe how lonely it gets here
all alone in my head.
My only company
being my occasional
thoughts and insecurities
grabbing at me,
pulling me down
to places lower
than I\'d ever imagined
All my friends,
yes they can be with me
and keep my exterior company.
And they can wipe away
the tears that stream
down my cheek.
And they can hold my hand so tightly,
as if they\'re never ever going to let me go.
I could be surrounded
by thousands of millions of \'friends.\'
It could be one fucking ambush
of people who \'love\' me.
Every single one could pass me around
like some kind of ragdoll,
and each decorate me
with hugs and kisses,
and take turns
holding me tight,
tight in their arms.
And Id still manage to
slip right through
the cracks of their fingers.
The Bottom LineSo what if you live there and I am here?The Bottom Line9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That's only in the right now.
A hazy future's becoming very clear.
Soon everyone will see,
That we're supposed to be.
Anyone could say that we will never last;
Anyone could knock us down.
Anyone could doubt us, but they have no proof.
I'll scream, "I love you!" from the roof;
Cause that's the honest truth.
Who cares if miles separate our touch?
That's only temporary.
Nobody else could ever mean this much.
I'll soon be next to you,
Doing everything you do.
Anyone could laugh and say it'll never work;
Anyone could put us down.
Anyone could tell us the future's never known;
But with you I'll never be alone;
And that's just set in stone.
You know, and I am sure that you got it right;
We got so lucky finding out on the first night.
It's only the lonely fool,
That's bound by love's cruel rule.
Anyone could say that we're just in a phase;
Anyone could beat us down.
Anyone could try to push us off cloud nine;
But knowing I am yours and you are mine;
The Infinite NightThe Infinite Night10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let's run away under these burnt out stars and street lights.
Let this be the night we run and never get caught, we never come back.
The violin solo repeats in our heads,
and I've got a decrescendo tattooed upon my chest.
The only thing left to do is dance.
Dancing to a requiem is such a sorrow waltz, knowing this night is dying.
Because I know this night is infinite in my wet eyes.
Just suspend my hopes, and hang me out to dry on this crisp night.
Just let me blow away in the wind. Take my hand. Let's disappear with the stars.
This is my last night.
Let me feel your heart flutter excitement on my chest,
grip my hand and hold on tight, as we soar on swing sets and stars.
Print our names in constellations, and wish upon ourselves.
Wishing this sky will never fall, wishing this wouldn't fade away.
Tonight the infinite sky has found it's end-
Embedded on my chest , stabbing my heart.
Hung from the highest star with such little hope...It's killing me.
Dance away from the light
ScarsScars10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A blood stain on your carpet
from the time you killed yourself
but as it always happens
it didn't really work
You try so hard for nothing
Pills may lead to something
You have no one left to grip
No one to guide your magic trip
My Teabag.My Teabag.9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Mail that you sent me
Your writing; your life
This bag in your letter
Enlightens these eyes
A lifetime of sorrow
Bearing ill flavour
And yet you're so perfect
Girl, be mine forever.
New Orleans MinuteNew Orleans Minute10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time sashays like a creole strumpet,
barefoot and brown down Rue Madeleine
past this window, this table,
where gumbo steams and shrimp tails
clutter my plate.
A molasses haze fogs the lamplight.
A young man too full of libation
succumbs to this damp heat,
bent nearly double,
splatters his feet.
A coasting cabbie slows to say,
Laissez le bon temps rouler
and laughs until his brakelights fade.
The Diary of I.M.HormonalThe Diary of I.M.Hormonal10 years ago in Humor More Like This
The diary of I M Hormonal
So yeah like i kinda fell out of bed this morning (it's a REALLY thin bed) kinda yeah. And like, i wasn't in a good mood (i did fall out of bed) y'see. It kinda all began like.... y'know (getting to the point quickly here), last night where i like... well my girlfriend (well we weren't really going out per say...) is such a whore (not that i'd know of course)...i mean she's my ex now y'know (see previous).
But she sleeps around like (and i found out last night. Tore my heart in two (well not really but it felt like that once the hormones kicked in... except not as painful)) and like, threw it onto the ground (she didn't really do this either but it makes me feel inntelygant) and (i felt really sad) i cried myself to sleep (but i did wake up in the middle of a night for a poopie). She says the rabbit made her feel happier than me (rabbits are sexy i'l give you that), like, i
Ska Is A Way Of LifeSka Is A Way Of Life9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Jamaican inspired beats set the pace
And brass and guitars kick in too.
The dance floor fills and the mood picks up.
Rude boys, this rhythm's for you.
Leaving the boredom of life at the door
And skankin' about all night long.
Colourful mood and happy hearts.
Such energy can't see us wrong.
Lost in the music of friendship we shake.
Our limbs take on lives of their own.
This reggae rooted upbeat flood.
Each note soaks us through to the bone.
Two tone and trainers and tangling limbs
And lyrics that lift to the lights.
Spirits subdued in a grey little world
Are here to ascend to new heights.
Broken Baby DollBroken Baby Doll10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Broken little baby doll
been used and abuse for so long
Shiny green eyes
opening up to reality for the first time.
No one will wipe your tears away this time doll
Hearts have turned to stone
your cries fall on deaf ears
Your paper thin nails
will never be enough to claw your way out of here
Trapped inside this house of cards
and fairytale realms
Where nothing is real
and every word has a hidden meaning
Where love means lust
and lust means goodbye
Lift up your skirts once more dolly
show them all what you have to offer.
Let them write "I love you" across your porcelain skin,
marring your red lips with their devils kiss.
None of it matters now that the lies have been revealed
your dolly eyes are vacant now
and your chest no longer beats in breakdowns of ecstasy
CoffeeI'm still stuck in the old motions you taught me, the tiny movements and mannerisms that ground their way into the material of my grey matter with the sequential passing of days. They say a human forms a habit in twenty-one days. Whoever they are. I don't think they know this kind of "habit," this mechanic repetition that anchors me to this plane of existence, this autopilot safeguard. Whatever. I don't need them. I've become something of a misanthrope anyway.Coffee9 years ago in General More Like This
Like every other morning for the past month, I sit on the porch with two mugs of coffee and wait for you to come by and pick me up, and just like every other day I'm late to work. I don't know why Dave hasn't fired me yet; maybe it's pity? Maybe he's just waiting for the perfect, most spectacularly miserable day to come by, so he can pat me on the shoulder with a smile: "Hey, you're fired!"
Work passes in a mind-numbing blur of key-tapping, paper-shuffling and coffee trips. I expect you to walk in at any moment and apologize for