The ghost of where you are
Will haunt you where you go,
he said, suggesting I leave anyway.
I believe in the geographical cure, after all.
I know that ghosts aren't real,
Nevertheless, I fear them.
Ode to your enemyThere is no downside to forgiving.
To forgive is to let someone go from your mind.
To forgive someone when they ask is to release yourself from their mind.
Bliss is to not think about each other at all.
2369A hideous wail cut through the minds of the soldiers, jarring them into action. The lookout stuck his head above the mound of soil and bodies, a bunker of cadavers thrown together by desperate men seeking refuge from a frail but deadly foe. A wave of the ghasts, suspended in the air by invisible wires, steadily drifted toward them. Several of these packs groups of twenty or more undead - followed and merged into a translucent blur dispersing far and wide beyond the Dark horizon like oil paint blended with pitch, smudged across a bloodstained page.
"They're here!" called the lookout to his superior and ducked below the bunker once more.
The sergeant shuffled toward the power generator and followed the output wire to its frayed end. Ensuring the generator was switched off; he pulled the wire toward the device in the center of the circle of men. A tall antenna extended from a tripod, fine branches of obsidian jutting out and upward from a tall conical mast which was thin at the bas
MinionI remember the time exactly. 3:33. AM, that is. Half past three in the morning. I awoke, shivering and my breath coiled above me, a ghostly claw in the air reaching for the ceiling. Of course, this shouldn't have been possible in the middle of summer and I did question the plausibility of a sudden drop in temperature as I sat up and looked around. Normally, I'd go back to sleep but something was...off. I don't know. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time.
So yeah, I sat up. You've probably guessed by now that there was somebody else in my room, and the fact that my bedroom was a refrigerator explains that said somebody was in fact a ghost, a poltergeist, a spirit, a spectre, a phantom; whatever you want to call it. It was a dead person, a dead girl. My girlfriend was standing in my bedroom, dead.
I didn't know she was dead when I first looked at her, so I turned on my bedside lamp to make sure it was her and I could see right through her (although I could do that well enough while
3 amIt was 2:59 am before I finally turned in for the night. I had been reading by the fire until late, the low growl of the darkwood logs as they burned providing some background noise to help me concentrate on the manuscript. I usually read books swiftly but this one was taking me a few months and I only got a third of the way through.
The moment I began to hear the strange noises, I knew it was time to go to bed. Quickly, before the minute was up, I snuffed the candle and fled to my chamber. I threw myself into the bed and wrenched my eyes closed. The sounds were growing louder but I knew that if I fell asleep before it reached me, I would be safe. Nothing can hurt me in my sleep.
March heralded the event once a night for three consecutive nights, and on the second night I went to bed early. It was 12:33 am when I blew out my candle. Jackdaws cawed outside my open window caw, caw, caw. The constant bursts of noise making it difficult to drift into t
UrsulaBefore the operation, people would run from me. Screaming. Freak, they would shout. Weirdo. Monster. They were right, though. They always are. No smoke without fire, after all. My name is Ursula, and Im an eighteen year old girl. A couple years ago I wished I could just end it all, but my mother always told me that once I hit eighteen I could have the operation that would make me normal. Children are cruel; if youre slightly different they prove their superiority by beating you up, or playing cruel tricks. Imagine that amplified by a thousand, a life in which every day you wake up and wonder if its going to be the day youre murdered by an angry mob. I felt like a Frankensteins Monster, but this waking nightmare was a real issue I faced every day of my life.
The operation was a success, however. Cosmetic surgery to make me look normal. It wont last forever, Ill need to return to the clinic to get laser surgery and to make su
Quincy TeabagHello. I am Quincy Teabag. Im quite ordinary, I think. I cant really say that about myself, I suppose. I was sitting in my house the other day and I decided to go out for a walk. I dont go out walking very often, I like staying at home, but because it was sunny I put on my boots and went outside. Up the road theres this gate that goes into some woods, but Id never been into the woods before. I quite like animals so I went in there hoping to see something like a Dyr, or Foreseid. I like Foreseids because their fins are thin like paper, and they have pretty coloured hair on them. Their claws are really sharp, though.
I wandered into the woods and I got a little lost. Its really big in there and there are loads of Bark-spiders and those big things with the loads of legs that I forget the name of. I thought to myself that I should have tied a rope around my waist so I couldnt get too far from the gate. I havent got a very good sense of direct
Oh art thief, oh art thiefOh art thief, oh art thief
How you’ve brought us all to grief.
How can you be unashamed?
When you stole from people unnamed
How you think about your own fame
Just like others like you playing that game
How you feed off us
How you live on others success
How can you sleep at nights,
Knowing you infringed other’s rights?
How can you enjoy this fame,
Knowing it rightfully belongs to another name?
Do we also carry the blame
That we blindly follow someone’s claim?
To the people that believe everything humans say
To you I say good day
We must always question what we are told
Or we can start to be controlled
By vicious lies and such
To me that is just too much
There is nothing more devastating
Than losing a loved one
Knowing that you will never
Hear their voice again
Or feel their touch, or see them smile
It's heart breaking
Time is a powerful thing
One that is forever
Time takes everything
And makes it it's own
They say that time
Heals all wounds
Time only created more scars
As the ones that it caused before
Begin to heal
To lose a loved one
Is a tragedy all in its own
But don't be sad
You will see them again
Because while time takes everything it can
Will take you too.
Time takes everything
And eventually it even takes you.
Perfectly ComfortableYou are comfortable now,
Though tired from your day at work.
You lay your head upon the pillow,
And you start to fall asleep...
It is quiet in your apartment,
The silence is soothing.
You soon begin to dream,
And though your dream is initially pleasant...
Something seems to be off in the things you see around you.
You find yourself walking through the streets,
The old pavement beneath your apartment.
It looks like it always has except for all those cracks in the stone.
Crick-crack, crick crack.
You turn your eyes from the paving,
To see the streets lined with people.
Shivering, grim; their eyes hold little hope,
Save for a warm night' meal.
You begin to feel a little more frightened.
Your tie is getting pretty tight.
You stagger into your office, your lips going blue.
You try to alert someone,
But your colleagues no longer have faces...
They are simply mouths, large and unrelenting,
Belting you with a storm of words that drowns you out.
You are silenced, in a world
Things you never forget.You never forget:
Your first day of school.
Your first boyfriend.
Your first kiss.
Your first date.
Your first time.
Your wedding day.
The day you graduated.
The day your child was born.
The day you did something amazing.
The day you get hired.
The day you get fired.
The day you got recognized.
The day your dog died.
The day you cried at a sappy movie.
The day you did something stupid.
The day you had fun.
The day you didn't care.
The day you wanted to die.
The days you were happy.
All these things happen.
Things that you will never forget.
You might not remember all the details or the date
But you remember what's important.
These things that you never forget
Always have the biggest impact on who you are.
I Give a DamnI give a damn
That there is still discrimination against love.
I give a damn
That students all over the world are bullied for their sexual orientation.
I give a damn
That when the time comes, I cannot sponsor my partner for citizenship.
I give a damn
That teens would rather commit suicide then face the pain brought on by their loved
I give a damn
That some parents would throw their kids out of the house, just for being gay.
I give a damn,
Because homosexuality is not a choice, and every individual deserves basic human
tetanus shot of the rainbow.i saw you in one of the slides of my viewfinder toy today.
you were the red sweater that i spent 7 months knitting,
the tomorrow that refused to come because
its seams were sewn shut,
but i spent yesterday seeing your reflection in the sun.
i burnt my eyes out, but none of it mattered because
i didn't need eyes to listen
to the canaries singing inside my ribs. they sang
'he loves, he loves you not, he loves you, he's
you're gone. you're no longer in front of me;
you're inside my veins, playing bumper cars
with my arteries. i felt the collision when
i was eating plates off of a styrofoam cookie,
hiding under a tortoise's shell. you are
the greens in the parachute that closes and
opens, you are the closed restaurant with the
terrible food, you are the closed oyster boy.
i cracked open your shell but there was never a pearl;
only a mess of worms eating away whatever was left of your heart.
i made chalk from your powdered bones and wrote
'i thought you were white, like bright lights
RebirthI was born twice.
Once in a McDonalds’ hospital
with Mickey Mouse sheets;
my first gasp of Aunt Mary’s smoke,
my last of formaldehyde.
Laid upon today’s paper,
I was outlined by the headline
like a halo: “Diana Dead.”
Grace is my mother,
but she’s never stepped
foot in a church.
She wore hot pink to my birth
and hot pink to my funeral too.
I was named Heaven in her womb.
She didn’t care for me much
I died once
sometime after high school
but before I made anything of myself.
I cried every time I flipped on the TV.
I caught myself with sharp things
like it was Valium. Popping pills
on the side of my leg. They rolled
in circular shapes on flat surfaces.
Diagnosis was a standardized test
that only the strange didn’t pass;
I didn’t pass. I didn’t live either.
I died only once
in the bathroom of a Panera.
If you don’t know what that is,
it’s a pastry place or something.
It was the first ordinary store
I saw w
Daddy's PoemHer hair was up in a pony tail,
her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
and she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
that she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
if she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say. What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried,
for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
she tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school
eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees;
a dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
anxious in their seats
One by one the teacher called a student from the class. To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
for a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?"
she heard a boy
They say every woman is a piece of the moon,
but I want the sun.
Dear Apollo, explain to me why you gave up
clear mornings for the shadowy future.
And I'll make you wish you hadn't burned a time before.
Because he's still sleeping, turned towards the window,
the thick blinds cracking with sunlight in the early dawn.
The navy sheets his royal dress, the rays his glory crown.
I wake up next to a god on Sunday morning,
hands still dirty from the night before.
But when I sleep, I dream of rhyming big words
Building them on top of each other, letting it touch the sky.
I rub up against them once in awhile to test their strength,
To see if they feel soft against my forehead.
And then I lose whatever I've found.
He says the forgetting defines me.
Once, in another life, I was a girl in Montana.
My face wasn't smooth and I carried a knife
strapped to my boot. I branded horses with a reverse K,
and carved hearts into bedposts.
I guess I felt a need to prepare for the real thing