,"am i allowed toThe best thing about you is that,"am i allowed to in Free Verse More Like This
you don't know how I got here and
I've never been more happy
to treat words politely.
O, writing, you are a
but when he kissed me
it was like inhaling
after having your
head held under
and the electric inside
of me made a new
and to know you,noone,"You smell like sleep and Iand to know you,noone," in Free Verse More Like This
don't believe in anything;
dreams like fat caterpillars
unhungry with metamorphosis.
monarchsI am troubled with the opaque nothingnessmonarchs in Free Verse More Like This
that has decided to(with all but his sad
shaped hat and curious shrieking plaid tr
ousers)choose the seat beside me, stale w
ith pigeons that have no destination, ree
king of amity and all his clever friends.
I am forced to expose my neck, shrug twi
ce and not thrice, and eloquently explain
that I am a string of fuck yous with one
bulb burnt out. I also must explain the
delicate lace in the pit of my stomach,
the hidden worlds wrapped around your ir
ises, and most of all, the feeling of c
atching a butterfly within your palms.
Newspaper crinkles with the silence of
potholes and smug coughing as I stare
into the palms of my hands; somewhere,
there is hope in between my fingers
like bags filled with tissue pap
er. Somewhere, you are sleep
ing with wings writhing in
your teeth and in your ha
ir. Somewhere, I know
the feeling of
As he nodded I created violets
in the lifeless smudge on the
Disappointment is uninspiring.
inevitable thingsbeing secure is like crying without any eyesinevitable things in Free Verse More Like This
and (coincidentally) i have those
you are close lines reverberating
all over my fingertips,pivoting
and heaving and knowing that
(did i tell you that christmas
it always reminds me of loneliness)
reminding me that
i never want the
of my nose to be pallid
and inflated with the
absence of light
wings of you
floating through paradise like it's already yours
it floating through you like
(and that loneliness
it always reminds me of the things i need to do-
like doing my laundry and dying)
There,I am this secondary water source,There, in Free Verse More Like This
filled with mud and something th
e government thought was the equi
valent of a knockknock joke. When
you drink all that I am, there is
a satisfying feeling in the pit o
f your stomach, somewhat like an
ulcer, and all the frivolity ins
ide of me tremors with purpose.
Unfortunately, as the sun decid
es to pack up, and as the day be
gins to lock the deadbolt, I fe
el as though I am exactly what I
And I am,
no stronger for it.
,"and all we know is thatThe sky's lips are forced to the rims of smokestacks-,"and all we know is that in Free Verse More Like This
deep drags like letting yourself become a lung.
I stare out of the window believing in the instinct
to love, while also believing in the gravity that
forces us to live. And we hope to things that
don't exist for things to get better.
All I want is for you to look at me in
a way that makes me feel like I exist.
She takes drags from cigarettes to
make her feel like she exists.
Make me feel like I exist.
Feel like me, I exist.
I exist like me.
Like me, exist.
as the sky takes drags from the
smokestacks like cigarettes.
,while holding truth likeTo be quite honest, (,while holding truth like,while holding truth like in Free Verse More Like This
an infant of sickness, of pure conscious
abrasion on my arms and against my
other imagined appendages, i am
willing and stuttering to you
anything that is honest, any
thing beyond honesty that
is mustered through
trust in lying-
to be weeping
what holds me in place,
much unlike a bookmark
;but much more like
fingernails in some
(and at this point,
soft would be much too
real to be imaginary for instance
when i writhe each night,and i mean every;
i concentrate on the end-not of plays or novels
trilogies,even-an end of all things for self-contained
reason of an appropriated end of all ends-ending without)
full of inevitable darkness-
Tell me when I am halfway there,
I won't be able to hear you anymore.
Smells in stairwells:Today, the elevator didn't work. It wasn't brokenSmells in stairwells: in Letters More Like This
or anything, there were some men downstairs that
had big carpet cleaners, and they were holding up
the elevator. So I stood and I pressed the button
a couple of times and maybe I said a curse word
and then I turned for the big red door that
gave birth to stairs.
The building only has six floors, and I was on the
sixth, not that this matters, it's only six floors.
I just thought it would be interesting to tell you
that I was at that top. Which then again, isn't so
interesting because it's just six floors, but it's
something to be on top, isn't it?
I'm not sure what I look like walking down stairs,
probably not much because I'm no dancer (but I like
to) and I'm no lightly hoofed animal (that would be
okay). But I went down the stairs pretty quickly,
and anyway, graceful for me I guess. My mind was
pretty blank and I was probably humming that song
that I've been playing nonstop for weeks or
thinking about food or something until
saying no like that stays inI could be writing aboutsaying no like that stays in in Free Verse More Like This
the way the breeze reminds
me of your-
or the spring inside of me
and daisies and daffodils
lifeless like umbilical
cords tossed aside;
I would say that I am similar
to the insect I just hid in
as April shakes my bones with the
fervor of unshrugging
falling in love like tungstenNever reach to pick up a man'sfalling in love like tungsten in Free Verse More Like This
hand, and lead him through
black holes, stepping on
(what is he but the
filament reeking on the
floor, designed to
and you are in darkness
and can't find the closet
and he is gone, he is gone)
Never let light scuttle over
your body and believe that
it is God's hands or eyes
(i believed in god once i
think but then he didn't,
and i didn't, and god's
a man and i have never
trusted one, no never-
i will be whole one day
or end up in one)
Never believe that this is
it, for as soon as you
voluntarily stop your
pulse for anything
but the world, you
will reach for your
own eyes and eat them.
(i couldn't see for so
long, i had you in my
eyes and it hurt like-
well, it hurt like hell)
Believe in always as you
look your dog in the eyes
and know that it is the
most beautiful thing
to be a woman.
A Chemist Walked Into A Bar...And yelled at the bartender,A Chemist Walked Into A Bar... in Free Verse More Like This
GIMME ALL THE C2H5OH YOU GOT!!
The Lost ChroniclesAll the pain she sufferedThe Lost Chronicles in Free Verse More Like This
is at its apex
The rivers won't stop flowing
Look forward to a new chapter in life
The lost chronicles
Search for your answer
and embrace it
Self-torment was what she thought was fair
Memories concealed agony
Her misery ignited a flame and left her
Harness your strength
The light still shines
The darkest days have passed.
Look forward to a new chapter in life
Don't stop breathing
Search for your answer
and embrace it
Ambition will deliver you
Discern good from evil
Depravity, Or, Unholy MarksmanMy kraken slowly brought your ship asunderDepravity, Or, Unholy Marksman in Free Verse More Like This
especially at times of desperate measures.
He was uncontrollable, filled with rage and agony.
Generally, the best explanation I could have for such a feat
Is simply "he can't help it."
However, this is not truth. Nor will it ever be truth.
My kraken is not the rabid and wild beast as you say.
In fact, he can be the complete opposite.
Gentle, warm, soothing, heartfelt, miraculous.
He's a creature, just as you and I.
You choose not to look at him, listen to him, let him speak,
give him a chance to change and make what's wrong into right.
Given a chance, you would see that he, in fact, loves you
He loves you so much that he's willing to do anything
to protect you and keep you glowing.
His long, muscular tentacles are not used to kill.
They're used to hold you and caress you.
His large, fang-filled mouth is not used to eat.
It is used to kiss you and say everything will be alright.
His horrifying blood stricken eyes are not made for you to
Australia + AntarcticaHis hysteria has allegedly been decapitated and bombardedAustralia + Antarctica in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The fragile thoughts of envisioning you are unfortunately discarded
For seeing those smooth dunes is now an imagination
Just not quite yet, maybe later
Sorted by importance, the list only continues to grow
First comes the word "Surrealism" then his name below
The lock inside the treble clef can only be opened with three words
I love you
His distressed mind begins wandering to strange places
What is this? Who are these unfamiliar faces?
In the grand scheme of things, the list shows no significance
In an ocean between them, tectonic plates begin to move closer
The art and music they make equals that of a famous composer
The two islands grow close not for the art and music, but for the sake of
And Locusts Cry Out LOVE MEOur Pumpkin Spice Lattes reflect the moon's haloAnd Locusts Cry Out LOVE ME in Free Verse More Like This
At two in the morning, we just want to be left alone
How pretty and prominent that scarf looks on you
Your ocean meets with my bare forest as we stare each other down
The crickets have never sounded so majestic
As they cuddle close to each other
We mimic their actions and sip once more
And the watermelon-flavored smoke hinders our vision
Our feet are nice and toasty under the blue covers
The frame-by-frame motion picture drives our imaginations wild
You stop looking at the screen and I can see you from the corner of my eye
Looking at me, and I get lost once more as time stands still
Never have I found someone who shares so many interests with me
I can talk to you for days upon days and it never gets old
A soul mate, partner, other half, whatever you call it
I love you forever and will never let you go
Empty Nest SyndromeEmpty Nest SyndromeEmpty Nest Syndrome in General Non-Fiction More Like This
So yesterday I moved out of my house and moved to college. Saying goodbye to my parents was really no easy task for either of us. Usually my brother and I go on vacations without them and we're fine because we know we'll be back. But this time is different, I would be leaving for good and only to come back to visit. They have what most people would call "empty nest syndrome." My mom came in my room in the middle of packing and she was flat out sobbing and telling me how much she was going to miss me. I started tearing up but was trying to hold it in. We had a nice little embrace. Then after i moved everything to my car, my dad came out of his room and gave me a hug and told me to keep up the good work and saying how proud he is of me. Then came the most unexpected thing. HE started crying. I've only seen him cry one other time and it was last summer when we went to visit one of his relative's graves. But he was saying how much he was going to miss me and stuf
Nuclear Strikes On The AortaOur lives will explode into quintillions of piecesNuclear Strikes On The Aorta in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As the second hand only continues and decreases
We await that beautiful yet dreadful bomb to drop
That will make even the most sinister man's heart stop
Endlessly, the vicious cycle cannot be halted and still repeats.
Three Hundred and sixty five nights later, his coronaries are that of empty streets
The television's millions of flakes of static traverse the lengthy, wet grounds
An utter silence quickly turns the faces of boys into minuscule frowns
The solar eclipse only grows darker as the time gets near
to be sixty and five knots away from his one and only dear
Let your so-called relaxing intoxicant run its course
Don't even bother asking me for a drop of remorse
This apocalyptic tragedy could have been evaded
If the stars aligned just before they had faded
And being all too swift and had already been decided
If only on that day Mars and Venus could have collided
Heart MurmurThe mischief underlying that severed smileHeart Murmur in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Everyone knew she was ever so guile
With a quick "hello" and a taut "goodbye"
We knew it was all too soon
"Go on. Do it." That empty promise slipped
His exuberance was only stripped
Nonchalantly, the bags were packed
And out the door she darted
The whole truth, only truth, and nothing but the truth
We know who's the real sleuth
Closure was finally emitted
And he slept
"My dear, I give you my condolences for your loss"
No apology was needed from that bearded boss
His carotid artery would soon fail
From her everlasting deception
Crusade Of The BloodlinePhysical contact is where the line gets drawnCrusade Of The Bloodline in Free Verse More Like This
Is this dysfunction by nature or by birth?
Cause of the altercation: unknown.
Condensation hitting her face like rain pounding the shutters
What type of retribution will be given?
Fuel of anger: rivalry.
Combatants: Mother and daughter
In a last ditch effort, the quarantine escalated to blustery, soaring heights
Will the princess wake to see the prince the next day?
Simply put: no
Resolution: I hope
I hope these cracks will be fixed
I hope this endless crossfire will end
I hope peace will finally be granted
I hope the waves will cease their crashing on the tapered glass
I hope the river will stop flowing over the smooth mountain
I hope Sekhmet will show you how to direct your rage
I hope innocence will prevail again
I hope the glorious rays shine through the Atlantic and Pacific oceans once more
I hope this misconception will halt
I hope our passion-filled lily will continue to blossom
I hope we live happily
Die Down Low"Come in and have your fortune read!Die Down Low in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Look into this crystal ball" he said
The senile man with his scraggly grey beard
and crusty eyes will see what he most feared.
The mindless pre-teen girl entered his shop
as she walked on the squeaky floor, then stopped.
A chair scooted beneath her and made her sit
on a silk covered cushion that was closely knit
"Tell me," the sorcerer said as he juggled
a three-headed deer that he smuggled
"What is it that you would like to see in your future?"
The girl could not speak for her mouth had a suture.
She pointed at her mouth for the decrepit old coot to see
that she was unable to speak to a tolerable degree
"Just close your eyes, and think ahead
to the future that is not full of dread!"
With eyes wide closed and hands together
she fluttered off the chair like a weightless feather.
Hardback books were flying off the shelves
as the geezer was terrified as if he'd just seen elves
Wind speed picked up and the girl turned cold
Her gentle, blue eyes became r
Surprise, SurpriseSurprise, SurpriseSurprise, Surprise in Free Verse More Like This
The sleepy eyes
Open far too fast
Caught for a moment
In bright, blinding torment
All is revealed at last
Back to sleep, sinking
Moment soon forgotten
Dreams of happy days
Ignorance washing away
All that once turned one rotten.
Somebody Let The Day InSomebody let the day inSomebody Let The Day In in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I grow tired of the night
The stars are all indifferent
And the moon's no longer bright
The sun is what my tired eyes seek
So strained from the dark
I want to be blinded for once in my life
I want the light to leave its mark
The only colours I've ever known
Have been black, white, and grey
I want reds and blues and yellows too
Only seen in the light of day
Somebody let the day in
I grow tired of the night
It wasn't my choice, I had no voice
But now I find my might
I won't live in the dark any longer
I'll say it now- I'm done
Somebody let the day in
I want the sun.
2012- A Short Story20122012- A Short Story in Short Stories More Like This
"Yo, Pete, come check this out!" Chris called from the living room.
"Is it really that important, man? I haven't even had my coffee yet!" I groaned, setting my coffee cup back down on the marble kitchen countertop.
"It's about this whole 2012 ordeal, involving the end of the world and all that stuff!" Chris hollered back, sounding a bit impatient.
"Oh! Be right there, dude!" I walked out of the small kitchen in our shared apartment. In a few moments I was sitting in the brown faux leather recliner beside our couch, which my friend, Christopher Hailer, was sprawled out across.
"Look what's on the news." Chris aimed the remote control at our flat screen TV and un-paused the program that had been playing.
"Is today the end of the world? Hello, I'm Jackie Brookdale, with your morning news." A lady with a pale face and dark ginger hair announced blandly. "Today is December 21st, 2012- a day that many people have awaited with dread. Why? Because it is said that, tonight, the world will
Reflection- HaikuReflectionReflection- Haiku in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Look in the mirror...
Think- do you like what you see?
Most people do not.
True LoveTrue LoveTrue Love in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Love should not be pain
It should not be the feeling of wanting someone so bad
That it hurts you just to think of them
And how much you love them
Love should not be a competition
It shouldn't be who loves who more
Or who is better than whom
Because you are both made equal by love
Love should not be fighting and yelling and rocky shores
And then coming back together again
Because you are afraid of losing that person
Or because you're afraid of loneliness
Love should not be lust
And only wanting another person
For their body and outside looks
You cannot judge one on appearance alone
Love should be effortless, and smooth
It should be serene and passionate
It should be joy and the greatest feeling in the entire world
And should be appreciated by all who know it
Love should be a selfless effort
Or no effort at all
To be with a person who is your equal
Though they may be your opposite
Love should be a united happening
Where you are always sure of yourselves
Even though it may
Radioactive--ProloguePrologueRadioactive--Prologue in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
All his life he had heard about it. Mainly from other people, but occasionally from his parents. Whisperings at the end of the hallway, overheard when he got up in the night to relieve himself. Conversations in the horse barn, hurriedly hushed when he came near. Quick mentions of it when the taxes came in the mail. It was as if they were the only ones around who didn't want to talk about it. He had broached the subject many a time, only to be shot down with an offer of supper or a conversational change to the morning news. Of course, he grew used to it. What surprised him was when his parents finally took it upon themselves to bring it up the night before his sixteenth birthday, seemingly unprompted.
"Galloway," his mother called from the living room, from which the crackle of the television could be heard.
"Yes?" He poked his head around the corner. He was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for his family.
"Come in here,
1...2...3....1...2...3....1...2...3.... in Free Verse More Like This
He opens the door
She glances up
The water trembles with her fingers
Wound around the cup
ONE soft word
Escapes his dry lips
ONE beat his faint heart skips
Her head she shakes
For her heart he broke into TWO
And TWO eyes she blinks
As says she, "I thought I loved you."
THREE more words
Come from him
"I love you"
And THREE seconds he waits...
But it is too late.
Think of YouThink of YouThink of You in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I shall sit beneath the sea
And let the waves wash over me.
I will lie upon the sand
And hold some of it in my hand.
I'll watch a little fish swim by
And look up at the watery sky.
I will try not to think of you
'Cause I know if I do, this won't go through.
I won't think of your soft, sweet kiss
As air bubbles out from between my lips.
I will not think of you or the rest of the people I've loved
As the last of my air floats up above.
I will not think of you.
I will not... think of... you....
I will... not... think....
I... did... not... think....
I... don't... wanna... I'm sorry....
Congratulations- HaikuCongratulationsCongratulations- Haiku in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Think, for a moment,
Of someone else. You just did
What most people don't.
AlterAllow me just this:Alter in Free Verse More Like This
I fell into a deep forest. My femur
put forth roots. I did not say: oh Lord,
take me from here
like Rebekah, this is another
My mouth remained resolutely
closed. The moss
grew over me,
Oh Lord, I am scared.
Mother is reading, brows
at half mast. In the kitchen,
Father organizes sardines
on crackers. Home means
this soft quietude.
Five thousand six hundred
miles away, I am watching a donkey.
It stumbles on three legs; the fourth
is loosely curled, like a child's fist.
There are wild dogs in the fields beyond,
waiting. I am a dog, waiting.
The wind settles down
into the moor. The purple heather
lowers its head, then forgets.
It seems natural, as if the wind
was always there.
My neck bent,
I am lost in this.
Wandering, my hands
abandon their shape.
NaPoWriMo 10--14April 10th, 2012NaPoWriMo 10--14 in Free Verse More Like This
Her eyes were wet but
the cold, distant wind
was blowing through me
and even then, I guess
I started to run away.
April 11th, 2012
Every half-hour the hail
slicks down the red roof.
It hits the ground, primal.
The sky is long-legged
and touches everything,
stooping in a motherly way.
I have never really stopped
feeling like a child.
April 12th, 2012
Waking up to the wet snow
becoming wetter, the imperceptible line
between wet snow and simply wet,
the vagaries of sleeping and waking.
Large and awkward, my hand
grows cold on the glass.
April 13th, 2012
What happened was that
it rained, again, and I was dreaming.
The long hours piled up
in their happy heaps.
April 14th, 2012
The valley was on fire: dawn
burned away the blue-soft
burrows. Some domesticated thing woke
in me, lowing lowly, swaying
as it stumped out into the fields.
It was meaty and entirely tame,
its muscles slicked together,
it was absurdly swollen with bloo
Lecture Poems: Set 11.Lecture Poems: Set 1 in Free Verse More Like This
Growing thin and ill,
it stutters and moans bluely
that distant, lost sky.
Creation becomes a thing of
microbes and acid, primordial
asteroid enzymes. This is
our new beginning: Earth
pulling herself together like a woman
puts up her hair.
I am not in love, but the wind
deepened around him. Leaning smoothly
at the waist, he passed beneath
the nut-heavy tree. I am only
taken by the fluidity of him
how his yellow Berber shoes scuffed
unhurriedly into the distance.
broke it down for us:
"Rejected, I reject. The labyrinth
is my own twisting heart. It keeps
me from them. It keeps
them from me.
And them from them.
And me from me.
It is easy to define yourself
in opposition. You do not have
to look farther than that."
He fell silent and accepted
a sword into his chest. We
excluded ourselves from his death,
went back to our own lairs,
our own high walls, the snakes
taking root in our heads.
Forgot to say: the light
tucked away like the legs
of a bird in flight. Night
NaPoWriMo 18-23April 18, 2011NaPoWriMo 18-23 in Free Verse More Like This
All about, the murmurous
world. A man can rise
like the dawn, beleaguered
but inured. He breaks open
and the sun splits and the
A man is just a man
vestigial, lost only
because he believes
there is a path.
April 19, 2011
Moving forward, Zeno
knew himself as a cat
in a box. The fractions
chased their own tails. Unobserved,
he existed in every space
at once, as an asymptote
April 20, 2011
Oh, my body realizes, this
is rage. The electric heat of chemicals
destroys and remakes,
tiny focusing pinpricks. His hand
on me, everything falls
into place. I finally know
what needs doing. My hand
connects with his face, it realizes:
this is violence and it feels like relief.
April 21, 2011
Barking once, the coyote
is answered by the neighbor
dog's long bay. The frogs in the way
of all frogkind make love
under the summer moon
My sister and I
read poetry on the porch. She says
and moths fly from her mouth.
RetreatSoon, the last stoneRetreat in Free Verse More Like This
was found in place
and maybe something was said,
there in the breath between wall
sorry, or I am so
tired, or simply amen
PlateletI wanted to tell you: my spiritPlatelet in Free Verse More Like This
guide is coagulation. Stars put
a stop to the dead black
bleed of sky. Let me be
And I am sticking to
the sticking place. And I am
bloodied by war. And love, I have
found in you a hard edge.
DisownAnd it broke my heart but IDisown in Free Verse More Like This
killed every trembling thing. The yearning
spaces subsided, they were reddened, they
were convinced to stillness.
And it broke my heart but God
became God-in-exile, became
yearning spaces. I buried my demons
with a knife, and left them to it. Exile
was the new love, it was a barren land,
it took no prisoners.
And it broke my heart but the pieces
hardened, they were as clockworks,
they counted down the hours. I was
waiting, my body was a sharp angle,
a border, I was waiting, everything
had already happened, I had killed it,
it drifted through the motionless diaspora,
the hours turned on me and they had teeth.
NaPoWriMo EndApril 26, 2011NaPoWriMo End in Free Verse More Like This
He is in love with me,
this young man. I think him
into a low beast, his voice
nothing but animal chuffs.
He becomes as I
have always been.
April 29, 2011
The follicles of water
from the fountain.
I can only remember
remembering it, Rome
growing like a weed
in its own ruins. The molted husk
of the Coliseum, the pope's
off-key sermon. The pope's
The roiling millions.
Leaving, it all falls away. Just
the baby-faced policeman,
arm out, eyes skyward,
to be anywhere else.
April 30, 2011
The caves hold everything,
there in the heart.
Leaning back, fat
with fondness for it all,
on the knees of God
I am soft, so soft,
boneless and scarcely
breathing, limp as a cat
in the face of God
in the ear of God
and within me
I am lambent.
NaPoWriMo 15--17April 15, 2011NaPoWriMo 15--17 in Free Verse More Like This
Liminal, a god
washes up on the rocks
of everything. Its lightlessness
howls I AM ALL, WHOLE, A PERFECT
ATOM OF CREATION.
It looks about, absently
shuffles the stars, knowing
that it knows that it
knows that it
cannot create relevance.
April 16, 2011
the secret to happiness.
Keep part of yourself
you cease to be.
April 17, 2011
Holub, eye bleeding absently,
was not surprised
to see an angel
rise from the depths
of his poetry.
Its face was lightening. He measured
the voltage, mapped the looping
currents, observed the terribly
neutral polarity. He diagrammed the
six wings, counted each toe.
was documented, the clotting factor
All around, the atoms
circled their cages like mice.
Salvation can not be measured, and so
Holub's angel, like atoms
or mice, did not know the shape
of a soul, was not required
to save it.
He dissected the angel and then
wrote a poem. The poem b
NaPoWriMo 10--14April 10, 2011NaPoWriMo 10--14 in Free Verse More Like This
Writing about herself, a girl
is always on a cliff edge, or the center
of a night moor. The unblinking
moon regards her, she is many
Waking to herself, a girl
closes her moleskin. The ceiling
regards her, she does nothing
she has nothing
she is nothing
worth speaking of.
April 11, 2011
They're not enough, the night sky's
silver tacks. It still curls up,
writhes about, blindly searches out
its own borders. It discovers hands,
digging weakly into the ground,
one million fingers in every
April 12, 2011
Left foot becomes the night,
right foot becomes the sun.
Running in circles,
they go nowhere.
Left foot, right foot left
night right sun night sun left--
I go nowhere.
April 13, 2011
Married, I beat my husband. He smiles
and loves and I beat him; or,
and so I beat him.
I dream I have killed
everything, given birth to a child
exactly like myself and
killed it, decisively.
It is destroyed because I fear it,
Feathers: PrologueOdd Gods and Accidental FraudsFeathers: Prologue in Short Stories More Like This
The island of Sorgen is shaped like a sock. Other islands are shaped like boxers or sweaters or cocker spaniels, but on the day of the Creation, Sorgen told everybody to leave him alone and chose to take the form of a sock.
Sorgen is a very tiny island, almost an undetectable stain on the great blue quilt of the ocean. In fact, it is so impossible to determine and so harshly isolated its inhabitants have wondered how their ancestors even stumbled upon it. Early philosophers suggested the possibility of lower water levels in ancient times, that most of what is now the ocean was once a vast flatland and Sorgen itself a high mountain people ascended during a time of great flood. But the modern Sorgenians knew better. Humans were obviously taken to the island by feathered wings, as wide as the humans were tall, which sprang from their shoulder blades and took them to grand heights. As the centuries passed, the humans found contentment on the island and
FlutteringsIt hurted.Flutterings in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My stomach was hurting for days. Mama said it was probably ulcer or maybe my drinking of so much Coke. But I ate and I ate and never drank Coke, and still my stomach hurted. Even if Mama went to the place where herbal plants grow to get a bunch of leaves so that she could squish them and put them in my drink, my stomach didn't stop hurting.
Papa said it was time to call the doctor, so he put on his funny straw hat and went to call the doctor. And when he came back, there was a funny-looking man that followed him into our little house. He had long kinky hair with white stuff in it and when he smiled he had very few teeth. His skin was brown, and his clothes was brown, and his hair was brown. He looked like mud.
Papa said, This is Pachiko.
And I said, Hello Pachiko.
And Pachiko smiled with the very few teeth that he had. Then he touched my stomach. He touched it for a long time, long enough for me to ask why he was touching it.
Then he took his hand off my stomach and looked a
Angels on the Moon "The angels on the moon are watching," said Miri to her mother, as she stared at the dark veil hovering above. The moon itself was nowhere in sight, but she did not have to see it to feel its presence.Angels on the Moon in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Oh, Miri," said her mother, not bothering to look away from the dishes she was washing. "There are no such things as angels."
"But they're on the moon."
"Silly dear, the moon is so far away. Why, you can barely see its craters."
"But I really do see them."
"Enough of this." Miri's mother dried her hands on a towel and tenderly pulled little Miri away from the window. "Time to go to bed, dear."
Miri skipped up the flight of stairs and retreated to her room.
Miri's mother exhaled deeply. She did not know how
BetrayalThe sweet scent of wordsBetrayal in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That hang in the air
The lies that they bear.
Strangers may share
Far truer whispers
Than the lips of good friends
And unfaithful lovers.
Ellisa's Closet In Ellisa's closet, there was a portal to another world.Ellisa's Closet in Short Stories More Like This
She had known this ever since she was six, when she had picked up a pair of boots and discovered a tiny purple duckling trapped in one of them. She was old enough to know that purple ducks didn't exist and even if they did, there was a very small chance of them finding their way into a closet on the second floor of a house in the middle of the city. So Ellisa did what any logical six-year-old would do. She placed the little bird on the closet floor and closed the door. When she opened it again a few minutes later, the duckling was gone. She searched through every shoe and pocket just to make sure, but it was nowhere to be found.
At first she had dismissed the little duckling as a figment of her imagination, allowing it to flutter out of her thoughts as soon as she closed the door again. But as she slept that night, she began to hear music. I
The ConjurerThe University of Magic offers a wide array of courses for us student mages, such as Alchemy, Necromancy and Elemental Manipulation to name a few. I looked back on my application with arid regret after surviving the first year of my course. Of the long list of easier and less daunting fields, I had to go and sign myself under Architectural Conjuration.The Conjurer in Short Stories More Like This
Summoning structures is an extremely difficult endeavor. It's a higher form of Alchemy, wherein you find a parcel of land, dump the raw materials on it and repeat several chants while making complicated hand gestures. The materials will then rise and form the building, and then before you sleep at night, you pray to every god you ever knew that your building may not fall apart. Another more difficult but preferred technique is to transmute the soil itself into a building.
Of course, there have been very few successful Architectural Conjurers, summoning edifices of majestic heights and ostentatious design, without so much as a crack on th