| Deviant Login | Shop | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
Porch Swingi. It's December,Porch Swing in Free Verse More Like This
the warm part of winter
snow is a blanket
and the fireplace crackles.
We eye the elephant-package
covered in crumpled birthday paper.
The paper flies
beneath it we gasp,
and the boys and girls
smile and take our picture.
ii. We're safe
from the April showers
beneath the roof of our porch.
We swing back and forth
for the first time.
I place my head
in the crevice
between your shoulder
and your neck.
We talk for two hours
about the azaleas.
iii. Our daughter's
daughter
runs through the sprinkler
watering the dry August grass.
She sits in the middle
planting sticky
strawberry-flavored kisses
on our c
MoonburntCarelessly,Moonburnt in Free Verse More Like This
she sleeps with the window opened
and the nighttime's sun,
that isn't quite a star,
paints her face and neck
with a strange,
silver glow,
and deposits a burning desire
to absorb it all.
FFM XXXHer name is Amelia, and she spends her life watching daytime television and knotting her sorrows away. She's got an ashtray by her chair and once-cigarette, now stick-of-ash dangling from her lips and her yellowed eyes stare off towards nothing.FFM XXX in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Amelia also has a basket of yarn down at her feet, filled with sweaters for a baby that never existed.
FFM XXVIIII keep a shoebox in the back of my closet that I have stuffed with three years of memories and not a single one belongs to me.FFM XXVIII in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I suppose you could say that fate gave me my job. The day after I was rejected from the job I had interviewed for, I went down to my local library to inquire about a position that they offered through Boston's Youth Employment Network. Through a series of coincidences, including the abandonment of the position by the previous worker and a rapidly approaching deadline, I was hired for the summer. And though shelving books can be quite tedious, I went back during my sophomore year, the summer after that, and then again
FFM XXIIIVI. He wore a yellow shirt. It was his first piece of new clothing in two years. His eyes were tired and his hands were becoming cracked and dry. When he spoke, his eyes wrinkled with a hint of a smile.FFM XXIII in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I don't remember any details about myself.
V. I had a dream where I broke my fingers against his back and he bruised my lips with his own. I didn't think it strange that I was the only one who was hurt, what I thought strange was that I woke up disappointed.
IV. He was out of country or out of state. I don't remember which. I swore I saw him while I was at work and then again when I went to the store. There was a strange moment when he retu
FFM XXIShe's always written down her dreams, except sometimes she can't remember them. She leaves a blank space in her journal, a blank hole in her memory.FFM XXI in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It kills her to forget her dreams. It feels like she is slowly losing her memories, ones tucked away on the highest shelf in her mind, and it scares her that she can no longer reach it.
She's lost herself in the caverns of her mind, spaces created for the lost dreams. Caverns that will always remain empty.
But she isn't losing her memory. She isn't even growing old yet.
She creates caverns and journals for her dreams. But soon, there are more empty spaces than
filled ones, her memory falter
FFM XVOf course it was wet, it was the 1800's!FFM XV in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
No one could remember when the rain started, and no one could see it stopping any time soon. Rain collected in buckets, gutters, potholes in the street. We learned to live with it as everyone else had done for years. It did wonders for the city's rat population (which I hear took a sharp downfall when the rain first started), and if it weren't for the mud, it might almost be bearable.
I, however, had grown sick of it. There were only stories of sunshine now. Stories told late at night by my grandmother, or re-told with glorious anecdotes by my brother.
There was really nothing that I wanted more tha
FFM XVIIIShe thinks about her children and smiles.FFM XVIII in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Today, her boys Jack and Christopher have gone an "adventure" in the tree-grove behind their house.
They were pirates today, using long, wrapping-paper tubes as swords which doubled as telescopes. The two were running around, chasing each other through the trees as the day's air slowly turned to night and the sky grew pink, then orange, then black.
She hasn't yet called them inside for dinner. She's not quite ready.
She puts down her pen and rubs her eyes and she knows only one of them will come inside.
FFM XIAlive is relative.FFM XI in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He wonders what it is that makes him sure that he is alive. What it is that proves his existence to the world and himself. His immediate response is the city that he lives in, the city that he breathes and lives every day.
But it isn't. The city makes him feel dead. The city reminds him that there is no such thing as special. The city reminds him that even in a crowd of hundreds of people, there is still no one to talk to.
He rides the train hearing nothing but his iPod, being alive with the rest of the plugged-in creatures. Some days he stands, some days he sits. He does not make eye contact with anyone for more than a
FFM XShe has more books than friends. Even on her Facebook account.FFM X in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Eleven are duplicated, four are autographed, nine are missing covers, and six are in languages she doesn't speak.
(Her books, not the friends, but one never knows.)
She's worked the same job for three years, saying that it will get her to bigger and better places. It took her three years to figure out that she can't see any places, let alone bigger or better ones.
She writes stories about sad little people like her, except she didn't realize that she was like all of them. She was different because she liked her job. She liked her job until she realized she didn't. And then she
MonarchWings erupt from their casing,Monarch in Free Verse More Like This
A transparent gold-rimmed shell.
Small, wet petals
blossom into fiery wings
that leave trails of ash across fingertips,
charcoal stains on outstretched hands.
They burn across the landscape,
flocking in fiery clouds over fields.
Their crepe paper wings carry them onward
like small kites drifting on the breeze.
Shedding cells and color
for 2,000 wind-beaten miles.
If you can't swim, stay out of the ocean.Loving him was like loving the ocean:If you can't swim, stay out of the ocean. in Free Verse More Like This
Surfacing, gasping, from underneath crashing waves,
scrambling back on shore.
(I never did learn how to swim.)
Loving him was like watching sand slip between my fingers.
But you,
Loving you is like loving the shells on the beach,
the bottlecaps and polished glass I found in the sand,
or the seagulls gracing the waves.
(I won't drown this time.)
The worst I could do is drop you,
the worst you can do is fly away.
Hydrofluoric AcidWe called it the sparkling city, the castle on the other side of the world, but it wasn't until much later that I found out it was just a glittering oil refinery pumping toxic gases into the air. We wondered at the way it glimmered against the stars like a just out of reach mirage. We were safe, 6.7 miles away, lying in the grass underneath the weight of invisible radiowaves and unspoken thoughts.Hydrofluoric Acid in Free Verse More Like This
-
Now Dad tells me about my sparkling castle; the jagged, smoking tiers that pierce the skyline and cast a heavy glow outside of his new apartment.
"So there's this toxic gas they use to make petroleum in the refinery. It's fine for no
Sinking ships, sinking hearts.You realized your dreams were just dreamsSinking ships, sinking hearts. in Free Verse More Like This
because they made you happy.
But you woke up and now you're stuck
with that sinking feeling of a dream never realized.
You're stuck with a sinking ship
and a wide ocean filled with regrets.
You're stuck on a raft with me.
-
So either stay on the raft or take your chances in the icy water.
I swear, I'm more stable than melting icebergs and sinking ships;
I'm afraid of water, so I'll always try stay afloat.
-
Look, I'm sorry but there are some things I cannot give you
And good dreams are one of them.
Summer and sick of counting.It is only September and I am sick of counting.Summer and sick of counting. in Free Verse More Like This
It is almost autumn and I am still waiting.
It has been almost four months since I've written.
It has been two years and I've hardly even painted.
I think I'm broken.
My dorm walls are white and I want to decorate them with glow in the dark stars but I don't want to keep making wishes.
My dorm walls are white and all I want to do is paint galaxies and leave this world behind.
My dorm walls are white and I am possibly broken.
I leave my food unfinished and my walls white and my door unlocked and my friends behind and my head empty. I break things before they can even get made.
It has be
Falling, flying, failing.When my dad was young, he raised monarch butterflies. One time, one hatched and its hind wings never expanded fully. He removed part of the wings and glued on wings of a tiger swallowtail to help it fly.Falling, flying, failing. in Emotional More Like This
The monarch did fly away a little haphazardly. But it could still fly.
-
Sometimes I wonder if not being able to fly is genetic. Like being able to curl your tongue or having green eyes or depression.
-
People can be addicted to alcohol or drugs or nicotine.
Others are sometimes addicted to sadness and all of the above.
-
When I was younger, I'd take newly-hatched monarchs I had raised and throw them into the air. I was dis
AutumnSomething happened in autumn. Besides the leaves turning, anyway. They weren't very pretty this year, to be honest. The trees changed unevenly because of the lack of rain in the summertime. The sky was gloomy for most of October.Autumn in Emotional More Like This
I wanted to take photos of the trees with you before they turned. You know, cliché nature shots. A hillside lined with red and umber foliage. Maple leaves sprinkled over the patio after the unexpected snow in October shocked them. Milkweed spores detaching from their pods and drifting away. Things to line the inside of the photo album I was making for you.
We drank too much of the summer sun in July
SongbirdHe hooks his arm into the loop of mine.Songbird in Free Verse More Like This
This is mine, he proclaims proudly.
You can't just own people, I tell him.
Their hearts flutter and batter themselves
against the cage of their ribs,
breaking themselves before they escape.
You can't own a heart that belongs to its soul,
just as how you can't own a bird
that belongs to the sky.
And the bird cannot keep the song
it still sings even when caged.
His eyes are downcast.
I know, I tell him. I tried.
But if you are quite still,
you can hear it sing from afar.
World War MeMy heart flutters rapidly and batters itself against the ivory cage of my ribs. I cross my arms, trying to prevent it from flying away. He offers to hold my hand and I warily accept. The room is too small, my hands are too heavy, his shirt too red.World War Me in Free Verse More Like This
The darkness behind my eyelids flashes red, red, red, and my brain raises a siren that does not stop, does not fade.
--
I want to warn him, I am explosive and not in a happy, ecstatic way. It's the dangerous, self-destructive kind of way. It's the I-will-seep-into-your skin-and-poison-you kind of way. It's the kind that makes you sick, makes you want to give up my irradiated heart and run far from my nuclear eyes.
But I don't.
---
"What's happening with you?" He asks, disengaging one hand from the steering wheel to lightly touch mine.
"What's going on?"
I press my temple to window. A war rages inside my head: Me against Myself. I am not winning.
---
"You've got to stop living in the past," he says. An a
Buoy.There are two types of people in this world:Buoy. in Free Verse More Like This
Ones that stay by your side through sinking ships and crashing waves.
And the others, oh, they just flicker in and out, fading, like flourescent lights, fireflies, or fly-by-night friends.
Seventy-five percent of the world is covered in oceans, and the rest made of seas of indifference. Look, I'm sick of how you float into my life only when it suits your needs. I'm not your life preserver and you're not my anchor. The waves are washing you farther and farther away, and before you know it, you won't be able to see the shore, the dock, my face.
But in due time, you'll wash up, ragged and waterlogged with a new life crisis, but maybe this time I've taken on too much water to carry you back to land.
DistractionsThere's a boy in my head again. I try to concentrate on vital thoughts, but there's a nagging in the back of my mind and when I drag it forth he appears behind the curtains of my eyes. I sit in class awaiting the solution to an equation and accidentally yank him from the depths of my subconscious until he is standing in front of me, smile wide, eyes sparkling, lips inviting.Distractions in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I struggle to remain alert, but instead I feel the warmth of his skin bare against mine, the brush of his kisses down my neck, right down to my collar. I breathe in, to clear my head, and inhale not the smell of pencil shavings and old textbooks, but the scent of his soa
SnapSnap in Drama More Like This
She's unreachable; won't stand, won't listen, an obligation come from a past mistake.
He's silent, sad, and stable. Can't say it. Won't speak it. Dare not even breathe it.
Oh, but he knows. Doesn't he know! He can see it all right before his eyes.
The quiet bastard. He just lets it go on. Every moment of every day. He just watches and doesn't do anything!
He could. He could.
He could lose his inhibitions, spoil her fun and tell her the truth.
What he thinks.
What he knows.
What he'll do.
But he won't.
If he does. Just for one second. If he does let it all pour out.
The world will turn up and down.
It'll shatter and spark.
Blister
RunningI'm under no illusion that everything back home is okay. I know when something's gone wrong. Is it wrong of me to run away from terror? I can't take it in my stride. So I made a dash for it. But even if I have run, it's still with me. Riding on my back. A burden and a concern. It's not as if I can go back now anyway. Too many questions will be asked and eventually I'll have to tell them my whole story. Everything. I can't even find a starting point in my head. I just don't want to think.Running in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It'd be bliss to escape that one for a little while. To forget what's waiting right around the corner for me to stumble unknowingly into. But I won't be foo
SorryThere are tears in my eyes,Sorry in Free Verse More Like This
But I won’t let them fall.
I am breathing deeply,
So I don’t break down and bawl.
My chin trembles.
My hands shake.
Everything hurts
Even if it’s not my heartbreak.
You’re fixed now I think,
You’re probably happy with another girl,
It makes me feel angry and happy,
But the emotions are sickening and they gush around me in a whirl.
I didn’t ever think I’d do this,
It’s causing me a heap of worry,
For my sanity a mean,
But all I want to say is I'm sorry.
I knew I would hurt you,
I didn’t know that there was a price;
Pretty much killing myself and all,
So
Plague of Dreams I realised something today. Something I have no words for. All I know is that it reveals some horrifying, raw truth that I have a feeling might just kill me. It started off just as a thought meeting a crossroads, choosing a path, then meeting another thought, then another and another. These thoughts passed through my mind with the vacant blatancy most thoughts seem to have, until they met the fateful thought that was lit ablaze by the torch held by a chain of preceding thoughts.Plague of Dreams in Emotional More Like This
This thought was different. It wasn't new. It was covered in cobwebs and grey with neglect and I wish terribly that I had left it alone to wallow; empty and forlorn
MiseryIt didn’t take as long as they said, but even then I felt every day as though it was several years. It was slower than slow, seeing him become more frail, more limp, more dead.Misery in General Fiction More Like This
The smile on his lips was thin, I could see the agony behind it, but he was so brave. I think that was the worst part, knowing he was a living lie for me.
When it came to the last day, I knew it. He was in the hospital, as he had been for several months. I had visited every day, slept there most nights.
He had his eyes shut and I was listening to his breath rasp in and out. The room was dark with lonely perceptiveness, it knew what was coming, had seen it time
BelleUnwritten. Stuck in a rut.Belle in Free Verse More Like This
Unwritten. Hit by a truck.
And if that occurred
(Though simply absurd)
I suppose I’d yell,
“Oh fuck!”
Know my story
Learn it well.
If you have children
It’s them you’ll tell.
Then by name
They’ll all know ‘Belle’.
Miss You AlreadyTomorrow you’ll be gone with the last kiss from my lips lingering on yours.Miss You Already in Free Verse More Like This
Fight it.
Fail it.
Take flight.
Nail it.
Fix it.
Cry for it.
Leave it.
Return.
Crave it.
Erase it.
Feel the burn.
Touch it.
Hold it.
Wish I’d learn.
Watch you gather speed on your wings and rocket away from nothingness.
Denial.
Anger.
Violence.
Depression.
Acceptance.
Accentuate it so I can see where I am on the scale of missing you.
I’d apologise;
With tears in my eyes.
We’d smile;
We’d kiss;
We’d watch the world go by.
But you’re leaving me;
You cannot stay;
You wouldn’t want to;
If you knew I w
Make My DayWhy am I not graced with loathingMake My Day in Free Verse More Like This
In her beauteous stead?
Vaguely she doth smile
And oblivious, bows her head.
I wish my heart would listen
Instead of taking me here.
Yet somehow I can’t do it.
I'm always back soon out of fear.
Though I try to concentrate
On something other than she,
I am forced to understand
She is ignorant to her effect on me.
Someday she’ll find out,
I gather I'll have run.
She’ll probably yell
That she was only having fun.
Leave me be,
I want not to stay.
If you do, keep gone;
You’ll only make my day.
Carpe DiemIn danger’s day we stayed awayCarpe Diem in Free Verse More Like This
From knife and flying hand.
Here we lie upon the sea
Of the protected banned.
We lost all trust
When we killed lust.
So now we look on
With 22, bust.
The game was played,
The cards on the tables.
But protection stole our power
And left us with our fables.
Judge us not by what we say
We spit out only what we can.
Do the trick that got us far
And screw our security plan.
Before the Long NightThe hole in front of me could have been a grave. It was deep and wide, punched into the ground by the narrow tip of a Scarab's leg. I jumped over it lightly, my M6G pistol snug in my right hand. The sun was going down, and Carter wanted all of us back at the cave by dark. I didn't blame him. I'd had my share of nocturnal combat the night before-- I was in no mood to go skulking about in the darkness again, especially after the day's events. I was tired, I was sore, and more than anything, I was disappointed. We all were, I guess. Watching a Covenant supercarrier utterly destroy a UNSC frigate tends to depress people, even Spartans.Before the Long Night in Short Stories More Like This
I climbe
The Mona Lisa--EndgameAnd they went at it.The Mona Lisa--Endgame in Short Stories More Like This
Lopez ducked as Henry attempted to turn her head into paste with his cricket bat. She barely avoided the Elite's quick-as-lightning manuevers. Lopez was no fool; she knew that the Covie was stronger than she could ever dream of being, and one mistake would mean the end of her life. Her limbs didn't want to obey her, her body ached and ached, but she made herself fight, desperate to survive, crazed and determined. She wielded her assault rifle like a club, swinging at Henry, missing him as he casually sidestepped her blow.
Behind them both, the last escape pod.
Maybe she wouldn't have to actually kill Henry, just get pa
Dear Someone,I don't know who you are or why I had the sudden urge to write this. You could be anyone in the whole wide world. But for some reason, you were on my heart this morning. I haven't slept all night, and I guess staring at the ceiling makes one think about what really matters.Dear Someone, in Letters More Like This
You're one-of-a-kind, you know that? Not factory-made, not mass-produced, not something but someone. Even if you're a twin or triplet, you're uniquely and wonderfully you. There is something about you that no one else has, and that the world would be woefully without if it were taken away. From the curve of your eyelashes to the barest hint of a smile at one corner of you
when you notice a kat in profound meditation"Are you seriously peoplewatching?"when you notice a kat in profound meditation in Short Stories More Like This
Kat's arm shot back and her elbow dug into Jun's ribcage, eliciting a grunt from the sniper. He stepped back, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, and she turned back to the vista. "I like watching," she said coolly. Her green eyes flicked from side to side as streams of pedestrians flowed by the ONI building, all of them different shapes and colors. "It's like getting to know someone without all the annoying chatter."
"You start bringing home dead birds, we're gonna have a problem," Jun snarked. He cautiously leaned on the railing beside her, keeping a few inches between them. He had on the usual gray
Phonetic Similarity (Reach AU)"It's coffee. Go on, try some."Phonetic Similarity (Reach AU) in Short Stories More Like This
Coffee. Caffè, café, it all sounds the same, I wonder what the Hungarian word is, I bet it doesn't sound the same. She eyeballed the innocuous little plasticy paper cup with the same terse attention she'd give any enemy in crosshairs, then reached for it. Her hand was pale, tiny without armor on. She wondered if the rest of her looked so sickly.
Across the table, such a short yet long distance, sat a man. He was shorter than her, like most men, and he lacked the hardness that made Spartans their own breed. He had dark skin but alarmingly blue eyes, and she hadn't asked him about that yet. In fact, s
Admonition "Tell me why you refused to cooperate with the rest of your team to complete the objective."Admonition in Short Stories More Like This
The Lieutenant Commander's voice was stern, but oddly paternal. Yet it did nothing to sway the young girl; instead of responding, she just set her jaw and remained silent. Kurt resisted the urge to sigh. Her reticence to explain herself was one of the reasons why she endured so much discipline from the drill instructors, yet she refused to correct the problem. He respected her toughness, but disapproved of its rebellious nature.
From day one he had known B312 would be different. The initiation test had gone well for her; she landed her Falcon Win
Animus facit nobilemI know it's selfish to dwell on the dead. Wasteful, even. That's what Mendez always told us, me and every other teary-eyed orphan in Beta. Is that what he told you, too, back when you were a kid? But I can't get this out of my head. You shouldn't have given me your dog tags... every time I feel them tangling up with mine, I get this tight feeling in my throat. It's starting to hurt now.Animus facit nobilem in Short Stories More Like This
I made it to civilization, or at least what's left of it, nine days after you... left. Got pretty banged up in reentry, but we're made to get banged up and keep going, I guess. The horizon was burning, and I kept glancing up at the sky, though I don't know wh
Refugees, a Halo Reach fanficJuly 24, 2552Refugees, a Halo Reach fanfic in Short Stories More Like This
Near Visegrad, planet Reach
The refugees huddled under a makeshift shelter made of tarp as the cold wind blew rain sideways. The survivors of the attack on Visegrad were a motley, depressed lot, most of them still in shock over the fact that the feared Covenant had come to Reach. UNSC Army troopers supervised the group, offering them MREs and blankets to keep warm. It was a gray, wet, ultimately nasty sort of day.
Vera refused to sit, however. She stood at the entrance of one of the tents with her arms crossed, eyes squinted as rain pelted her exposed face. Inside she felt a little numb, a little overwhelmed, but mostly she w
Survivor's Guilt All I could do was salute him. I knew he was gonna die... I knew that this was my last chance to show my feelings toward him. And all I could do was snap my hand up in front of my face.Survivor's Guilt in Short Stories More Like This
Kelly sat alone in the Spartan quarters. The others weren't back from evening chow yet. She wasn't hungry; ever since Sam's death, she hadn't really munched on anything, just the occasional MRE. She ran a hand over the bristle of her brown hair and exhaled evenly, closing her eyes, falling into Zen in an attempt to keep from showing unnecessary emotion. Emotion, ha... something every Spartan had, but strove to keep contained under layers of
Illusion, a Halo fanfic"Ha. Beat that."Illusion, a Halo fanfic in Short Stories More Like This
The man paused for a millisecond before moving his next piece, brow furrowed as he contemplated his newest strategy. The holographic chess set flickered as he tapped a black square and his knight moved there, then he withdrew his hand and folded his arms, daring his opponent to make her move.
Cortana's "eyes" narrowed and she gave a little huff, moving a castle to counter her adversary's advance. "That was just luck and you know it," she declared, a hint of frustration in her smooth voice. The AI, only a few inches tall on the board, rested a "hand" on the nearest bishop and cocked her head. "I'd love to see the gears turni
Being hard on yourself.I believe in nothing but the whisper of aBeing hard on yourself. in Free Verse More Like This
subterranean spring from which your
pseudo glory quenches its thirst.
Such bias plants deep, ancient roots.
The blooming flora of this systematic process
appears unconventional to me and I quiver.
What a wordy and intentionally cryptic verse.
Do you think an abundance of metaphors and
Multisyllabic words will impress them?
Maybe some will find merit in your piece
But let's face it, you've hit new lows.
(Bless the loyal readers and interested few)
I'm sorry but anyone worth their weight in
Poetic verse knows this is a step back.
Try again.
I see the ebony heard of buffalos in my drea
A Warm, Fuzzy Mass ExtinctionDid you feel that mass extinction?A Warm, Fuzzy Mass Extinction in Free Verse More Like This
I was at the peak of an unknown summit
When everything was taken.
This planet uttered one maddening note
To let me know fire had claimed our
Perfectly fertile asylum.
I felt my teeth melt and pour
Down the back of my throat
As the oceans turned to steam.
But, I knew you were still alive.
Who but you could keep your lungs
Free of toxicity and blue ash.
You met me years later in a field
Of bones and dying grass.
Ants crawled across my grey skin
Carrying me away.
You did not let me feel sorry,
For the beauty that was stolen.
You only repeated;
"When nothing great exists,
The world is a l
I Am Kept Alive By Soulless ThingsI put both of our lives in danger when I came back.I Am Kept Alive By Soulless Things in Free Verse More Like This
Someone had to keep the roaches from shitting on your pipe.
It's important to remember that everyone was beautiful once.
You used to let me hold your hair back when your head was in the toilet.
There was vomit in your curls that night and I'm tired of trying to forget.
I look at the scar on my arm and think about when you broke the mirror.
You were out of it when you sliced me open and you couldn't stop laughing.
I was so proud of you for making it through half of an NA meeting.
That was two years ago and I'm still too young to have to deal with this.
My biggest fear was that you wo
The Last Lie of SummerQuiet days, the overcast sky keepsThe Last Lie of Summer in Free Verse More Like This
to itself, ignoring the living for weeks
at a time.
From half a state away-
you could hear trains roll through
towns like mine.
There is peace
and it can't be trusted
Undeserved suspicion
given to the first
fallen leaves.
This was the calm before the calm.
The man that is seen, but
nobody knows.
Promise yourself:
"Tomorrow I will say hello to him."
But we are all too busy dressing healed wounds.
MyiagrosYou went quietlyMyiagros in Free Verse More Like This
Like granite with finesse
Days and nights
The come down monster
I had a drink
Six, seven, eight more
Always and sometimes
Completely nothing
The weeks of illness
Before it pulled your eyes shut
No small talk
Just plain, empty time
I walked to the store for smokes
Struggled not to howl
There was fly paper nailed to the register
Legs still moving
And I knew what they were buzzing for
Hell had found you first
High WaterIt took eleven weeks for my stomach to stop turning.High Water in Free Verse More Like This
White water reality, broken hands, splintered paddles.
If you ever felt inclined to place your head against my chest again,
you wouldn't hear a heart beat over the roar of water in my lungs.
If you ever desired to wrap your arms around my waist,
you would find that there is far less warmth to hold onto.
For now, we drown in the perfect darkness of canyon waters.
Like infant gods, we chose to carve these wounds into
the very foundation of our fabricated universe.
Deeper than the initials of youthful lovers.
Further inward, past yellow bone and soured marrow.
We've been forever
Va'eiraThis was a lesson in just how quiet it can beVa'eira in Free Verse More Like This
when you don't make enough noise.
Me, holding a toy gun to a stranger's head
"Remember when things stopped being ridiculous?"
You, eating dandelions in a midnight field
"About the same time things stopped making sense."
A boy in church camp carved a small crucifix
for his arts and crafts project. He won the blue
ribbon and a brand new Bible. The next morning
I found it hanging over our cabin door.
A toad was nailed to the cross.
Still breathing.
Still breathing.
Sometimes we wake up early enough to hide the evil from our world.
Still breathing.
The Hottest 30 DaysThe traffic never bothered him until he had nowhere to go.The Hottest 30 Days in Free Verse More Like This
It took two hours to get across town and he forgot the applications.
There wasn't snow on the ground, so he pulled over
and parked in a tow away zone. He walked around
the center of that city and thought about his father standing in line
with him at the Hartford shopping mall twenty seven years earlier
in the town where he grew up.
Middle-nowhere, Illinois.
It's Christmas time and all of the other children are
pissing themselves with anticipation.
Over the scent of plastic evergreens and candy canes,
his father still smells like motor oil and top shelf bourbon.
The
Acid Girl 03Take a breath. I don't remember having lungsAcid Girl 03 in Free Verse More Like This
We found each other in the worst kind of alley
Philosophy majors get the concept of a dumpster
Between Zhuangzi and a blowjob,
there must be a difference
I woke up in reverse today
Any nice guy has a shot with a stripper
Conversations with the creature in the corner
He's excited that my skin is melting
She meets me in the pretend hotel lobby
Concrete, turn around, ants at a picnic
Adult drinks for breakfast, semi circle dinners
I'm in love with easy veins
She picked out her bride's maid dress at Wal-mart
I was dead for six whole months
First day back, Lazarus didn't change
House wiv
Well Beyond the NooseMud smeared prisms, crackedWell Beyond the Noose in Free Verse More Like This
along the edges of faith and insanity.
We used to have picnics under that tree.
I caught a fly between my
finger and my thumb.
He begged me to let him go.
Drunkenly I obliged but only to watch
him drown in the contents of my glass
fifteen minutes later.
No man can be an island because they gave that job to a turtle.
I'm floating down a river and I see my father,
trapped between the amber sky and the violet shore.
He looks like that fly so I close my eyes.
There are only two of them which is why I find it hard
to see more than one thing at a time.
We eat dirt cake and sand pie when you're not arou
Hemingway Would Hate ThisThe trouble with the Boy was that he didn't have the heart of Shakespeare, the voice of Poe, nor the soul of Wordsworth, nor the knowledge of Rembrandt in his darkest days. He didn't have a trace of Michaelangelo's spirit nor the angst of Carvaggio and this on its own was enough to dissuade him from understanding that technique was far better than solidarity and possession far more ageless than youth.Hemingway Would Hate This in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He didn't have any of this knowledge because his father hadn't had the courage to tell him that he needed all the qualities of these great men, to win over the heart of a woman who had the dreams of Austen, the ideas of Da Vinci and the scent o
FailureShe was the Thief Girl with no faith and half a heart, and she didn't care if they never ever saw her soul anyway. She was almost content in the half broken life she had created for herself. Her fingers were always drenched in ink, her mind was always preoccupied with her treasure. Words stolen from conversations, from homes, from mouths that didn't need to speak any more.Failure in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She found the Lost Boy somewhere in an alley of poetry and a war of lyrics, fighting for his life with a broken piano and a worn tuxedo. She stole him before the bass viols, the gleaming guitars and the thrashing drums could kill him.
He fought with her all the way, telli
Moving On"It all seems to be in order. Let me just read your last file."Moving On in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Thank you."
"It says here you used to have a girlfriend who was raped whilst you were with her?"
"Er…yes."
"Did she love you?"
"Yes. More than I could handle, I suppose."
"According to your file you told her she wasn't the one, and that her overfamiliarity with men led her to be in this situation?"
"Er…yes? But it's not like I told her she deserved to be raped, it was more-"
"Just yes or no answers would do. Did you do anything prior to this incident to make this girl feel loved?"
"Yes… I didn't cheat. I think that's enough for any relationship."
"It als
LoveIt's the song on the radio that reminds you of what you had and what you lost.Love in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's the smile that a baby gives when she is genuinely happy.
It's the sound of a laugh from someone who hasn't laughed in a long, long time.
It's the friend who still remembers you even if you call after fifteen years.
It's the last piece of chocolate saved for you in a box you thought was empty.
It's the gift that is exactly what you needed, when you needed it.
It's the two hour ride across town, just so she can see you before she leaves.
It's the dog who waits for you to come home, just to give you all the affection in the world.
It's the companionship o
My Father's LoveFor the hair's breath of a second today, I felt what my father feels about his daughter. For that tiny moment, I saw the fear, the constant worry, the anger at his angel getting hurt, and the fury at the person who had dared to harm her; the crescendo of Mozart's most famous opera. I understood what it meant to stay up all night worrying for her, for her safety, for who she was with, who she wasn't with, where she went and where she did not go; a tragic song that never ever quite comes to a conclusion. I figured out how it hurt, almost like cruel fingers on the fret board of an exquisitely delicate guitar, when she would ignore him, or hurt hMy Father's Love in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Rebirth"You won't tell us then? What it's like?"Rebirth in Free Verse More Like This
"..."
"Is it because you have something to hide?"
"..."
"Or is it because it never actually happened?"
"It happened."
"Then tell us. Tell us what is it like."
"I was always the girl whose family asks 'What is wrong with you.' instead of 'What is wrong with you?'"
"And this has nothing to do with my ques-"
"If they had all just asked...I would tell them. I would tell them that my heart was torn into hundreds and thousands. And my lungs were still crushed from footholds. And my brain still sees two little girls laughing and playing. And my legs hurt from dragging myself from basement
LustHis hands have a habit of finding my hip bones,Lust in Free Verse More Like This
trailing his river like fingers along my stone smooth skin,
his lips do not move, his mouth tells me stories.
Mine spend their time
tracing the length and breadth
of his back in kisses*
We travel through lands that never existed
before we touched them
At temperatures far exceeding in Fahrenheit
If only we could understand
how lust and geography
make such divinely sinful bedmates.
____________________
* One hundred and sixteen
FaithI love your belief in God.Faith in Free Verse More Like This
Not because it matches mine.
Because it makes you even more beautiful to me.
You are the dream I always wanted, but never had.
(God likes to surprise me. Well, consider me surprised.)
It makes me want to sleep every single night by your side.
I want to wrap my prayers around you.
I want to press my lips to the segments of your body.
If you asked, I would rest my head besides yours
and dream your nightmares for you.
(You shudder in your sleep. I don't think you know.)
In faith, I'll be your dreamcatcher.
In dreams, let me wis
Complicated"You know, personally speaking, I don't think you're really unwell at all."Complicated in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I'm sorry, are you the one who is sick or am I?"
"There is nothing wrong with you."
"Can you say that again?"
"I said, you aren't sick!"
"Whatever. The receptionist is calling me in, anyway."
"You're a hypochondriac."
"What?! Listen you-"
"Look, just go inside. I'm sure the doctor will say the same thing."
"Fine!"
*
"So. What did the doctor say?"
"That it's complicated."
"Complicated?"
"Yeah. They need to run more tests and figure it out."
"Really?"
"You sound skeptical."
"You told him that you only get 'sick' in history class."
"Yes."
"And about h
Introductions"Hi, I'm-"Introductions in Short Stories More Like This
"I know who you are."
"You do?"
"You're the guy who thinks he's invisible."
"I have a name-"
"It isn't important. Because you really don't think it's important."
"All right. Since we've started out this way, let me just tell you, I know you too."
"Yeah?"
"You're the girl who is broken."
"I am not broken."
"You're the girl whose eyes close every night and open the next morning, only to find you have never slept at all."
"I sleep well. Besides-"
"You're the girl who dreams of a happy ending even though she has seen seventeen...no, eighteen unhappy ones in her eighteen years."
"Happy endings are over rated. And you're-"
marblemarble in Free Verse More Like This
empty grass silence
scratched hands on blue sands
and marble's coldest bleeding
bullets on forehead
branches purple holes
of wistful
rivers and reverie
l o c k my door
past pulse of you
we cut the path and straight to foreground
we were found asleep in our tainted dream.
[words are trigger]
seekerseeker in Free Verse More Like This
tight feathers hold to marble nails
and writing wisdom myths
with an arrow
green-stained
I crave warmth
connection, individual
allergic sun
to be
I leave desires harm and
all the rest in darkness,
like worms.
I c r a v e w a r m t h.
[confined hands]
exanimisexanimis in Free Verse More Like This
permeata d'acque verdi
a intreccio,
figlia di mani
e convulse sensazioni,
l' i n t i m a universalità
è legge, libertà e potere,
respiro fiacco
d'inerme patologia:
conserva questa mancanza per lui,
ingurgitando volgari dinamismi
e ricorrente sacralità.
[rituali e pulsioni]
oltreoltre in Free Verse More Like This
un tetto solitario
anela la fiamma
d'interminabile attesa
arie stanche
archi incerti
e questi polmoni neri
i m p r o v v i s a n o
un destino predetto
tra monete arrossate
intrecciate d'acque torbide
leggi ancora la mia mano che trema:
cosa vedi? Oltre...
[vertigini]
inSonneinSonne in Free Verse More Like This
labbra
tra le ombre
brevi
riflessi d'acqua.
quest'ossigeno smorzato
nutriva cordoni pallidi,
tra le mani un poker d' a s s i
perso
come regina di fiori spenti
e cera fusa sulle gambe,
occhiaie uccise da una camicia di forza:
quanto costa riscaldarmi
in un'estate stanca?
[ultimo volo]
kaliickaliic in Free Verse More Like This
notti ubriache di lune
e polvere da sparo
cantiamo inni di cemento ed espiazione
a cristalli nelle nostre m a n i
sanguinanti.
[ultima curva e tutto da capo]
di corsadi corsa in Free Verse More Like This
si respira aria corta
in queste giornate dal sapore pungente
come elettricità m a r i n a i a
tra onde di roccia selvaggia
e carne pressata.
[claustrofobia temporale]
fake collarsfake collars in Free Verse More Like This
confused mindjob
draining
and f a s h i o n politics
randomly spit
these brand new as usual, radical 'n static, indistinct masses theologies all around.
rotten breeze out
as sexual appetizers
no teeth to open gates:
let's all share the next leading crap!
[wine wisdom]
runes Irunes I in Free Verse More Like This
dusty winds and sacred lament
prophecy mouth unfolds anew
give us birth and gave us death
gave us birth and give us death
cyclically
the harvest of mystical sunbeams
under still trees
ever so shattered
like prime egg
cracked to moonlight
a bridge to rebirth
a bridge to immortal.
haiku #1A calming stream flowshaiku #1 in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
dreaming of success in life
continuously
You're not alone in this fightKeep your head up and stand tall,You're not alone in this fight in Free Verse More Like This
cause you'd be god if you knew it all.
just be the demi-god that you are now
and all pieces will fall in place somehow.
life's struggleyou started a journey,life's struggle in Free Verse More Like This
with a guy you held near.
no more being lonely,
nothing left to fear.
It ended all too soon
you feel pain and regret.
your thoughts won't attune,
still trying to forget.
your heart ripped apart,
the cracks begin to show,
but it's a new start,
I'll tell you now:
Ne pleurons pas de la galère de la vie.
C'est un voyage qu'on doit entreprendre.
N'oubliez pas que vous n'êtes pas seul.
Just another lifeBorn like most,Just another life in Free Verse More Like This
an average boy,
nothing to boast,
still alot of joy.
an age to play,
no one seems dull,
thoughts aren't grey
but very colorful.
You show me my place,
a threat with broken glass,
you'd cut my face
in front of this mass.
malfunctioning brain,
nerves shutting down,
starting to go insane.
Closing darkness, prepare to drown.
I close my mouth first,
then my eyes and ears.
You're definitely the worst
of all my fears.
On this theatre of life,
I'm playing mime,
closing myself from others.
Can't help myself this time.
Trusting people another day,
my heart bruised, left unspoken.
Am I afraid to say
It's already
unwritten, unspoken, unsaidSilent waters run deep,unwritten, unspoken, unsaid in Free Verse More Like This
while fainting waves
carry a passionate message,
whispered by the shy wind:
Close your eyes
and you will see it
Cover your ears
and you will hear it
Shut your mouth
and you will say it
Because only your heart
can recognize the sincerity
of another heart.
2012, Benny Temmerman
another love choicemeeting that special personanother love choice in Free Verse More Like This
It will make you
invincible
like nothing can touch you.
Yet you can see the signs
that she sends out.
LEAVE ME ALONE!
but i wanna shout:
"I love you!".
Love isn't age related,
something you can't explain.
A feeling of being sated,
impossible to feel pain.
It's so hard to understand,
the way your mind toys with your heart.
Everyday wanting to hold her hand,
Still it feels like living in a world apart.
Girl, I like you, can't you see?
Why does it feel it has gone awry?
I thought i found the girl for me,
should i let my heart bleed dry?
LovefightPeople fall in love.Lovefight in Free Verse More Like This
Lovers remain,
people break up.
Lost it all, no gain.
Another person,
joining the scene.
You feel happy,
nothing in between.
Again distraction,
catches the eye.
Your lover says
Forever goodbye.
Conquering dark thoughts.
Crashing your goal.
A vicious burn,
ripping through your soul?
Lost my heartSometimes when you're young.Lost my heart in Free Verse More Like This
Having moments of such happiness.
A place so magical, nothing wrong.
It must have been Atlantis.
Where two leave their hearts,
in a haven protected.
Hand in hand, returning homewards,
eyes with love reflected.
But she didn't trust,
her heart near his.
Being affraid, not of disgust,
but of losing this bliss.
His love never ending,
but she didn't show.
This wound isn't mending
and she just let go.
He lost his heart,
to this girl so special.
Ripping his soul apart.
Luckily it wasn't fatal.
Ending this poem,
with the worst part.
Seeing another victim.
Running with her heart.
Kisses of a Different TruthIt was passion; glorified, embellished, exposed. Fluid lips kissing a satin sensation across skin.Kisses of a Different Truth in General More Like This
Palms weave affection through fervid fingers.
It's a wildfire, love. Fickle and unworthy. It's hardly a flicker, not even a flare. He referred to it as infatuation, merely a spark. And I was faltering, attempting to explain it's value; the power of an unlikely flame. But he was willful and I couldn't help but feel fickle and unworthy.
Your whisper caressed my ear, sending an overdose of pleasure to every nerve.
You kept asking me to tell you, and even though your smile was seducing me, I feared the destructive pow
Sifting Inebriation from ManiaTerrible terrific terrifying psycho-phasing. I see it as uninterruptedSifting Inebriation from Mania in Free Verse More Like This
Cellophane cellulose cerulean between archived stupidity and
cellulite.
(i see it as partial confessions and self-punishment.)
But why? Why do it? Would it even be worth it?
Words ignite bile from fingertips, she attempts
to siphon aesthetic meaning from much too vulgar syntax.
I smoked reefer with some hemophiliacs and a nymphomaniac - she's a doll (i mean at least for a sex addict) but her friends were (w)horrendous and way-too-easy bleeders. She wasn't anything like them, she had the proportions of a porn star and the softness of a poet. But she was stronger
A Creation of Alien EmotionThe butterflies printed on my skin have long since forgotten to flutter. These symmetrical patterns have become mere acrylic paint, and all meaning was lost for my lifeless tattoo.A Creation of Alien Emotion in Short Stories More Like This
-
An artist paints with the pus from his temporal lobes, misery etched into oozing lobs; festering detail. The emotion portrayed suddenly began to shake me and I turned away, failing to see the beauty.
-
I tried to dye rainbows across my wrists but there was no pus left for painting. There was no brightness left to lighten my creativity, no color to ignite the ugly details.
How could anyone see me as I'm beautiful?
-
Charcoal
scintillating.It is August and I am alive.scintillating. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I am breathing but the sensation becomes invigorating. The air tastes lithe, cleanly - like light pouring into my lungs.
I find it rejuvenating; youth electro-charging my slackened flaccid muscles.
I feel you; an impossibility. It's high voltage, electric eels, hissing transformers.
It's a spark.
Dirty Boys Don't CryThe sheetless mattress; heavy contrast clashing with rich maroon walls and the chipping tiles of a checkered floor.Dirty Boys Don't Cry in Short Stories More Like This
An always open window allows circulation. Wind filters through, dispersing through a room plagued by disarray. Oxygen enters the nostrils, air particles reeking of musk and dust and memories caked onto the floor.
Because why sweep away dirt, why even disinfect the the filth? If it could dredge up cherished times of singing drunken stupors? If it could revive the words shouted to the stars in an anarchistic rage?
But I'm assuming you have titanium claws so you can cling to that guitar as long as you like.
Rainbow fla
Red Feathers and Metaphorical OceansI found her degraded,Red Feathers and Metaphorical Oceans in Short Stories More Like This
slathered in pomegranate puddles. Juicy sweet.
Timid blueberry tears dribbled
atop her raw pancake tissues.
Her offended coconut flesh
feigned feminine composure;
honey-milk complexions.
I noticed off-white muscles
tense,
paranoid and taunt.
Bones bracing for the sizzle.
Broiled
into someone solid.
___________________
Dead.
blackened texture - rabid, raven-eyed
Decided.
complexity beyond explanation
Decapitat
Dirty Needlesmy skin is an embarrassment of preconceived geneticsDirty Needles in Free Verse More Like This
without sensory or proof
and all they could say was
My Dear, it's comatose.
the statistic
recovery
and
relapse
tasting forbidden flavors
mountains of unconsciousness
memory is a sieve
capability in the mouth of my nightmares
organs conjuring art
quiet shocks of color
tremolo voices breed beauty with lightning
misunderstood power
Defiance.
they claimed it was premeditated murder
an idea of expected growth
and efficiency
__________________________
the cadaver is resilient; remaining
simply to leech sleep
from oceans
of abandoned opium
Simply A Lapse of JudgementI don't want it. Quarrel quizzical quencher. Cold.Simply A Lapse of Judgement in Free Verse More Like This
She is flamboyant; manic delirium. Yet complacent,
strangely accepting
Defeated.
I am a fragment, a glimpse, a reflection
weightless, splintered, incomplete.
I am inconsistent
false
and sparkling.
She was an aberration, unintentional
and utterly free.
Sta.sh
