this might be foolish.forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine itd be like to breathe each others carbon dioxide.this might be foolish. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and landing in the middle of the wheat, in the middle of the cerulean pond, in the middle of danger, in the middle of something we didnt know how to tag and label.
twenty-three hours ago: we were diving into the belly of the sea and trying to filter out the saltwater with our tongues. we were curling up in coral and seaweed, an
it doesn't come free.if you want it, you're going to have to catch it.it doesn't come free. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you're going to have to run until your feet are caked with silt and your mouth is burned with wind, until your heart is laboring behind rusted ribs. you're going to have to chase it through sand storms and ocean tantrums and to the edge of the world and over. you're going to have to strip out of your clothes and inhibitions and fear and pride because it's not slowing down. it's not going to idle in anticipation or pause or give you a fair shake. it's going to twist in currents and cut corners and laugh as it's free diving into still lakes.
if you want it, you're going to have to tempt it.
you're going to have to promise with a honeyed tongue and then confess with bare-boned honesty. you're going to have to be cunning and honest, vulnerable and strong. you're going to have to know the art of silence under blue moon stars and the seduction of words breathed through smoke veils. you're going to have to twist poetry from your capillaries an
what if i forgot_cwhat if i lost youwhat if i forgot_c in Free Verse More Like This
amongst sea weed
and wheat fields
and what if field
through my ear drums
and caressed my memory
with your words.
[what if i was to whisper sweet nothings
in your ear until you lost your feet and
floated instead? what if i grabbed your hand
and pulled it through my chest, let you push
aside my ribs and get lost in me?]
what if i taught you
how to love and how
to cry and how to
express your emotions
like cyanide sinking
through teeth, and filing
into your pink gums.
[what if i pulled you inside out and painted
the backside of your skin with coral and wind
and heartache? what if i swallowed your lips
and filled my lungs with your butterfly kisses?]
what if i taught sea
creatures to sing
represent your soul
and stream down your
cheeks and cover your
eyelashes with beauty.
[what if for a moment you melted and cried
and wanted with every cell of my body until you
knew what it meant to feel as i do? what if you
i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves andi'm choking. in Free Verse More Like This
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.
instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.
if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs
and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
or i'd just tie my heart to the railroad tracks
and wait for you to save it. wait for you
to cradle it and whisper that the time for
pinched nerves and scraped knees is over.
but i am confused and cowardly, clutching
my chest, palms feebly protecting the only
thing i have left to defend. the only thing i
have left worth guarding.
and the thing that scares me most is not that
you might hurt me. it's not that i might end
up with a scar or a burn or a weeping laceration.
the thing that has me trembling wit
hello, beautiful.these are the times i will always remember:hello, beautiful. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
walking through crowded coffee shops to see you sitting in the corner, steaming cups on the table and bright eyes lighting up the room. hellos tripping over my tongue, shy glances and bitten lips, toes curling in my shoes. hearing your baritone voice for the first time, tying my lips into knots as i fumbled over the introductions.
sitting on my bed, shaking the walls with laughter, your arms holding me close into the curve of your body. driving with the windows down while holding hands, the wind painting butterflies on my neck.
not knowing a thing about you but wanting to pick up the candle and explore. finding the most breathtaking mosaics on hidden walls, you taking my hand and laying it against your scars. your trust that i wouldn't break them open, promises sealed with virgin lips.
i will remember the anxiety and the fears and the wonder. i will remember the dreaming and doubt and finding answers that only birthed more questions. i will r
i'm sorry.i am sorry if i am not what you expected.i'm sorry. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am sorry if i am not slender or cunning or sticking to the schedule or falling into the precision of appointments and the rules of poetry. i am sorry if i am wringing my fingers dry and running out of paper and bleeding ink through my eyelids. i am sorry if i am butchering words and stitching their bleeding pieces into something i can lie and call beautiful. i am sorry that i cant stick to your grammar, your syntax, your expectations, your rules. i am sorry, i tried.
i cant help that i am running barefoot through the grocery store because i forgot my shoes or that i am driving through the fast food drive-through without buying a thing because it at least feels like im driving somewhere. i cant help that i am forgetting to bring you home your medication and sleeping with my back against the grass and tying your requests together to knit a scarf to choke myself with. i cant help it.
i wish i was different. i wish i
the sun isn't a candle.you never did learn that beauty can't be painted on rotting ship hulls. decaying wood will always smell like the ocean's betrayal and the salted funeral salute of gilded words. swirling acrylics will only mask the bleak gray and bled-dry sinkhole of your chest. so, you can sit there and call yourself the queen of your world, the mistress of mystery and empress of lust, but you're taking on water and sinking fast and the imploding sea around you is the last grave your cat-eyes will ever witness. you're sinking like a stone in your hate and deception and the one hand that would have pulled you back is the one you gnawed off at the wrist.the sun isn't a candle. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you see, you had the sun in the palm of your greased talons, the whole reason for expanding lungs stitched between your pores and you discarded it like secondhand news. you never did realize: he's the cause of the spinning axel and the foundation of rome and the song the stars sing to dusk-covered fields. oh, you were just too blind to absorb his light!
less than a dream.i can't be the sun if i'm only a candle.less than a dream. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i can't be the myths of greece and the legends of troy if i'm only beginning to write my story. i'm not diamonds spread across the skyscape or dreams saturated with salty rain, i'm just a girl. i'm trembling fingertips and insecurities buckling down on my intercostal muscles until breathing becomes a labor of love instead of a hum of habit. i'm tearing apart diary paper because i can't stop moving and regretting; i'm curling my toes to withdraw when the stakes seem too high.
i'm not everything you're hoping for and i'm not worthy of poems getting scrawled in wet midnight sand; i don't deserve sunshine serenades pouring from your lips. i'm not made of piano-chord veins and i'm not spitting up beauty i've [never] kept hidden behind my molars. i'm just me.
i'm just a girl with wide eyes and a habit for losing chapstick, pens, shoes and the people i care most about. i'm not special or extraordinary or anything you wouldn't expect to find
BurnSilver rings on fingers, deadBurn in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Golden hair on a dieing head
I wonder how
In the mirror we see ourselves
Or what we'd like to be
We see our selves through tinted glass
What our hearts would like to see
Tattered and unkempt
In awful disarray
You left me cold in glacial rain
I'd beg you so, to stay
I saw the writing on the wall
Knew that we were bound to fall
Turn by turn
Love is a fire
And I want to burn
luner lightAlone again and off to bedluner light in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Moonlight swimming in my head
Dripping through my window cill
Always lonesome, feeling ill
The silver light speaks words we've said
Spilling through my world in red
It whispers rhymes that cause a chill
And washes away my bitter will
It makes me clean and makes me new
It makes me worthy of someone like you
Yet, it hurts to breathe and it hurts to see
What this just might make of me
New virtue, far between and few
Or stagnant death in morning dew
ValentineI'll never be your valintineValentine in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
No matter what the circumstance
But now i've drunk too much wine
And you're so pretty and you've asked me to dance
I can't deny the eyes you make
Don't hurt me, now, i'm not awake
Don't touch my hand, it's skin and bone
Don't touch my heart, it's not my own
I'll never see the the velvet shine
Of your eyes
I'll never get to know you're mine
I'll never be your Valintine
for anyone called 'mom'Teddy bears and midnight dreamsfor anyone called 'mom' in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Cuddle close, It's not as it seems
Just a shadow on your wall
Cast by a daughters baby doll
Lay down your head
You're off to bed
So fast asleep
Without a peep
And no more tears
And no more fears
Just one more kiss
As bedtime nears
It's all okay, The World's put away
The night is calm, The wind's a song
Crickets sing and church bells ring
So don't be afraid, her love wont ever fade
Now shut your eyes
And please don't cry
Lay down your head
You're off to bed
Alicewas life and living strageAlice in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
dark and so deranged
Grinig cats and laughing hats
And flying, twinkling little bats
Deep inside your wonderland
Make the kitty understand
I wonder where my minds been at
Draged along by a mangey cat
High atop a wonder wall
Humpty Dumpty had his fall
He missed the grass and broke his ass
And shattered his entire mass
And then the knight
Bright and white
Saved a girl
In a clumsey fight
The girl tred and laied not down
the road was long
And With many a song
Did Alice find her crown.
Peace HaikuPeace Haiku in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the city of churches
implies that war
is not criminal
in the instant
to kill and die and hate
for an idea
so much more
than the absence of war
we could try it
what's the harm
fighting for nothing
but a grave
this is my flag
Summer HaikuSummer Haiku in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in the dusk pink sky
crawling not buzzing
evening in the park
by a sudden squall
of precisionearth's shadow
on the moon
eyes me flies off
with the lunch sample
I can see
hotter for the buzzing
in this heat
at dawn, the cicadas sing
from my office
I hear them howling
Touched by FireSex is not betrayal,Touched by Fire in Other More Like This
But love is;
A dangling earring;
Poetry by other means;
Chaos and all that.
Rice dreams; universal mother
I saw her disappear by the river.
I will no longer be plagued
by an unceasing sense of longing.
I am definitely in need of a little awe.
Whats wrong with hippie chicks?
You know that soup we drank?
It feels like its in my brain.
I am becoming many colors.
. . . and I still consider myself very likable.
To certain peopleYou tell me that youre stupidTo certain people in Free Verse More Like This
That youre a bad person who does dumb things
But I dont believe you
I see your beautiful soul and want your personality to be captured in ink, preserved for those unfortunates who will never know you.
I feel the way your life has touched mine and left such a significant mark, maybe more than anyone else.
When I think of you I see rainbows of psychedelic colors, hear music playing on instruments whose names I dont know, feel the weightless sensation of being at the top of a ferris wheel.
And even for your faults the uniqueness of you is not stained.
The colors are not blurred, the music is in key, the ride works fine.
You tell me that youre worthless
That you have no reason for living
But I dont believe you
I see your depth and wish that I could understand you better than I understand you now; I wish that I knew how you thought of yourself so that I could show you how everyone else thinks of you.
I feel the warmth that co
Happiness...Happiness is not the greatest thingHappiness... in Free Verse More Like This
And still many people place it above all else
Think about geniuses, heroes, the greatest of men-
Often they are unhappy people
Often their lives were full of sadness
But think of the person, the accomplishments,
The life that is considered by so many to be heroic
If you have gained all that, only sacrificing happiness-
What have you truly lost?
What have you not achieved?
Untitled as of nowHere enter the solemn pallbearers,Untitled as of now in Free Verse More Like This
Carrying your shame.
Your family and friends have read
The Book of Your Soul and deemed it worth little more then a bad novel.
The coffin lid is finally shut,
As you had hoped for so long.
Sealing out the world that had once brought you such pleasure,
But without the burden of truth
What is that worth?
Thirty-two years back you waited in the wings,
And when you heard your cue, willingly ran into the fray.
So young, full of such promise,
Esteemed by the admired, you basked in the sun of praise
Ever-growing was your fame, the tales of your greatness.
There was no doubt among the people, you followed in the footsteps of your great father.
And as your reputation grew so did your pride,
As it usually happens.
But reminiscent of the ancient myths and histories of our time
Pain always arrives in the midst of a celebration.
The hero of your country fell during a time of happiness.
Your hero was gone, abandoning you to destiny.
Even in the midst of mourning a
I don't name poemsSitting here as the minute hand ticks onI don't name poems in Free Verse More Like This
Blood trickles on
Thoughts are slow- come and go,
Sparked by nothing much
Reality slaps me, soft as a touch
Im wasting this moment
Nothing to do- but I cant escape
What is the point of seconds like these, those, them?
The point is delayed,
The essence wasted
And still I sit here
Bored by the dull monotony of a slow pace,
Or plagued by the pending demise-
Brought on from lack of understanding-
Lack of time that could be better spent
And again ask myself why, but its clear
The greatest of outcomes always carries hardship or boredom, or both,
Along the path to attaining it
My end result better be great.
HPatBCI Chapter OneHPatBCI Chapter One in Fan Fiction More Like This
Harry Potter and the Blatant Copyright Infringement!
Disclaimers: I dont own Harry Potter...hm, actually...considering the title, I could say I do and get sued! Whee! Ok, this is a parody of HP...just consider it another novel. Im writing this with the help of my dear friend Mom.
Special! Rejected chapter titles!
-Harry Gets Blamed for Stuff He Didnt Do
-Harry Sings in the Shower
-Harry Sings in the Shower and Wakes up the Neighbors
-Malfoy Acts like a Git
-The Weasley Twins Make Things Blow Up
-Percy Acts like a Git
-Mr. Malfoy Sneers
-Hermione Knows More than Everyone Else
-Snape Acts like a Git
-Ron Gets Scared
-Dobby Acts Annoying
-Dudley Goes on the Slim Fast Diet
Chapter One : All the Titles Got Rejected
Harry crawled out from under his bed. He sniffed the air cautiously. Is that me? he thought. He then blinked as he heard the hair-curdling, blood-curling screech of his Aunt Petunia.
What are you doi
Therapy for ArnoldTherapy for Arnold in Academic Essays More Like This
Therapy for Arnold
An Uber-Exciting Account of the Stupid People in San Antonio
First of all, let me give you a brief run down of the topics I shall be covering in this. None of it is intended to be racist, I am merely speaking in general terms here.
The topics I shall cover –
-Lack of road maps
-People who can't drive
-Mexican families that are too large for their own good
-Japanese families that are seen for two minutes and vanish
-Arnold the Shark
-The fact that Psychedelic Coral would be a good name for a rock band
-The South Texas Piano Bird
-Waiters who think they're funny
-Creepy waiters who won't go away
-An intense and almost homicidal hatred for people who take screaming children into the Alamo
-Everyone else in the Alamo period
-The Magical Eyed Pretzel
-Ugly orange metal 'art'
-R. S. Dolphin
-The ghost story teller
-Our very good friend, gravity
-The fact that R. L. Stein seems to have lost his touch
HPatBCI Chapter SixHPatBCI Chapter Six in General Fiction More Like This
Harry Potter and the Blatant Copyright Infringement!
Disclaimers: Is there anything cuter than a baby penguin?
Chapter Six : 1001 Squash Recipes
Once settled in the common room, the students drifted into groups and began excitedly chattering about the upcoming year and the events of the summer.
"Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb," went one group.
"Peas and carrots, peas and carrots, peas and carrots," went a second.
"Mumble, mumble, mumble," went a third.
"Is it just me, or are we the only group that can be clearly understood?" Ron asked from his seat in front of the fire.
Neville's voice came floating from the second group during one of those odd times when everyone in the room is taking a breath at the same time. "And my gran said, 'Neville, what in God's name are you doing in my dress?' And I said…" He noticed the room was quiet, and shut his mouth quickly.
"Don't worry, Neville," Hermione spoke reassuringly from her group to him. "No one was listeni
kitestrings.you confessed that when you were little you would pull apart monarch butterflies because they were much too beautiful--kitestrings. in Free Verse More Like This
so beautiful that they made you feel uneasy.
(you always did call me the most beautiful thing you'd ever known.)
it's almost december now, and the only reason i wish you were here is so you could make snow angels and i could rip off their wings.
you wanted a kite for your birthday, so i got you one that was shaped like a bat and we took it to the beach, watched it crash into the surf over and over until it was bent and broken. i rescued it from the tide and surfaced dripping saltwater -- you told me i looked like the goddess of sailors lost at sea.
after that day you put the kite in the back of your closet and forgot about it, but immediately began talking about getting a new one.
that could fly higher.
i sometimes tell myself that we were never meant to be because i was stuck in the ocean watching people drown while you were hanging from
telling a sad story backwards-17.telling a sad story backwards- in Short Stories More Like This
it smells like grief and sterilized metal.
i climb into andrews bed, though the nurses have strictly forbidden it. he closes his eyes and holds me tightly, because he says when he cant see me, it is easier to pretend i never happened to him.
he pushes the cart aggressively down the aisle, pretending to mow over old ladies doing their sunday shopping.
"stop," i say giggling, lobbing a can of ravioli at him.
for a moment i think he simply didn't see me throw the can; it glances off his chest and falls to the floor, exploding in a pattern of red arrows. i don't notice his eyes rolling back in his head or the graceful way his body collapses to the floor.
the only thing i notice is the distinct thudding sound as his head hits the metal shelf and the screaming that may or may not be mine.
later in the hospital he calls for me and says he wants to apologize for keeping secrets, and the doctors launch into a medical explanation of his cancer.
their eyes are sad.
being in love.it's like when you were five, when your pet rabbit diedbeing in love. in Free Verse More Like This
and you learned that nothing good lasts.
it's like the time you dropped him off at his house to watch tv
before you drove yourself to the emergency room, sobbing.
it's like the first time you saw your kindergarten teacher cry.
it's like ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes. ashes.
it's like when he went too far, and he said, "is this okay?"
and you said, "no," but it didn't matter.
it's like when he said, "but i want you."
it's like the number seven, or rubies.
it's like when you almost drowned in the pool in north carolina
and when you looked up through the broken surface you thought
you saw god's face in the clouds.
it's like when he told you, "it's okay, it's going to be okay," and it wasn't.
it's like when you found out monsters weren't real
but every night you still woke up screaming.
pig-meno how it kills me to seepig-men in Free Verse More Like This
tending to their boorish
paying for their shit
doing the heavy lifting
speaking in soft voices
while the pig-men see fit
to sulk about, modern malcontents,
they can fuck.
fat fat headupon his flannel shirtfat fat head in Free Verse More Like This
his fat fat head
lolls like there's
a whole bulbous planet
inside of it.
his cranium a red-white sky
his cheeks pounding purple hillocks
the space between his teeth
of blood and mucous.
he speaks that way too,
biking in the rainEvery time I go biking in the rainbiking in the rain in Emotional More Like This
I get hit by a car,
or nearly do so.
I don't bike differently than usual,
more carefully even,
and yet always
I am clearly visible,
I obey traffic laws,
we make eye-contact.
I am frequently baffled
at how little
people feel for each-other
the ways we destroy ourselves.one.the ways we destroy ourselves. in Free Verse More Like This
we were silences stretched out,
lingering in the pitter-patter of muffled
heartbeats. we were broken glass
digging into too-fragile lungs, we were
the shaking of the nervous earth beneath
our feet. we were bitter unforgiveness and
the screams of the world around us, we were
empty spaces, we were
everything but beautiful.
happiness is on vacation.
life is a sidewalk, he told me. life is a sidewalk,
and regret and pain and tears are the cracks,
and sometimes, he tells me,
sometimes, you can't fill them.
there's a shatter in the next room, a broken
breath, a shaking in the bones.
we're all broken,
darling, but some of us are empty, some of us
are just dead inside.
and nothing can wake us up anymore.
death is not knocking on my door;
i'm knocking on his.
breathing.tonight you are alone, silence keeping your heart company. you try to breathe but there's no air, there's no air, there's nobreathing. in General Non-Fiction More Like This
one to love you.
you close your eyes and pretend life is a fairytale and the prince just saved the princess and the dragon's been slayed and everything's okay now, everything's okay. and everyone is smiling and happy music is playing in the background and there's only going to be sunny days. everyone is saying, here's your happy ever after, it's all yours now. everyone is happy -
well, except for you, because right now you're pretending you don't exist.
you compare hearts to fingerprints; no two are alike.
except yours was imprinted on a piece of paper. yours was on a piece of paper and it was raining yesterday and you left it outside and now it's all ruined.
but it doesn't matter anyway, because it's not like anyone wanted it in the first place.
tonight you are alone and panicking and your heart's racing and you're shaking.
he told you that some days, the su
running.you tell me that everything has a time limit on it; friendships, days, moments, love. everything is limited, you say, so we might as well rush, run. because it's all going to end anyway, right?running. in General Fiction More Like This
so i started to notice the time stamps painted on your hands, the calendars written all over your heart. i started to wonder, how much time do we have left? how many more held hands, secrets, inside jokes, i love you's? how many more?
i wondered and ran,
ran through the forests without smelling the scent of after-rain. i ran on the darkened streets at midnight without noticing the streetlights, passing lit houses of friends and the sounds of laughter meant to be shared with me. i ran through meadows and didn't see the flowers i stepped on.
i ran, holding your hand and missing all of the people waiting for me.
and now it's midnight and cold. piano music is playing in the background, but my heart's too dead to hear it. now my ears are ringing and there's a pressure behind my eyes, and you'r
this body is a cagemythis body is a cage in Free Verse More Like This
you have no idea how many times i've tried to break my spine, but it's so hard to reach around and pull it out. it never stops aching; the pulsing pain is omnipresent and it makes every single nerve in my body feel as if it's been tied in knots.
my nails have bits of your heart under them. in between my teeth is the lining of your mouth. i absorb you through osmosis, and you become that itch i can never scratch.
i am just another girl among millions, thrown out into rusty garbage cans and carried away to a landfill to commiserate with dust. our hands become so dirty no amount of soap can clean them. our souls become so tainted that not even god can save them.
you don't miss me.i am sick of smiles.you don't miss me. in Free Verse More Like This
they are always fake.
i feel like i should give up,
like i'm hollow on the inside,
and i don't want to sleep
walk the streets
like the ghost
i really am.
i hope you find your calling someday,
because i fear i will fade away
before i will see the day
i hope i can find my voice again,
because i think about it too much, now,
and it makes me want to cry.
(this is all my fault, you shouldn't know these things.)
a precious lie i've known wasn't true
for a long time.
i am lost and alone for eternity, a constant mix
of relief and loneliness
without a person
i never really knew.
i can't give you tomorrowi likei can't give you tomorrow in Free Verse More Like This
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and i like
and your fingerless
of these beautiful things
do i love