The Meaning of Things Now by Moonbeams, literature
Literature
The Meaning of Things Now
In the old town: Sneakers hang from traffic lights as if to say they would have run if they could. If they weren't tethered to this place, and so paired their steps with the sound of airhorns. The sound of trains is the sound of sepia now -- the city turned monochrome. At least a handful I know claim it as their birthright. You can see the last peak highlight of a streak of young hair across its tracks as it stitched itself to the sun. It has reclaimed the light in an old flame's eyes. Maybe we fell in love because we stood before each other as far away, we saw places emanating somewhere in our reflections, but everything open has since sealed itself matte as flowers in wall-paper, stowed away in self-preservation - a garden as prescient as petals pressed between laminates. There is a landscape made in the color-schemes of us cordoned off and arranged just so, and I think a sound might do the same when it can no longer take us where we want to be, how it teams with
Everyone lives on an island of their own ridiculous make, And no matter how insignificant they claim a much grander stake. They all shout their thoughts and reveries, their hate and anger, too, Passing judgment on each soul that dares to wander through. Their island is an empire of dime-sized majesty, Where wisdom never comes to those who look like you and me. Only in their image can a person hold some worth, Otherwise be damned and exiled back to mainland earth. So be wary where you moor your vessels in this conscious sea~ For these islands stand as prisons where no dream could e'er be free. Seek instead the larger landmasses where minds are never chained, Where the knowledge grows like fruit, to be savored as it's gained.
We are like children, Keeping special secrets, Buried in the stony soil, Of our suffering hearts. Secrets can grow, Like poisonous fruits, In appearance delicious, But deadly in a single bite. Some secrets give strength, In times of weakness, Reminding us of who we are, Giving us our true name. Other secrets are meant, To be shared with lovers, Binding them together, With unbreakable bonds. Finally, there are secrets, That are meant to be secrets, Knowable only upon death, To those with broken souls.
I saw a forest and a lonely tree. In low clouds fallen from the sky on lifeless branches blanketed in winter’s fog. A crimson sun-like drop of blood, tree trunks, lofty and majestic in their blazing splendor -- its passion burns through my loneliness. A white swirl of piercing cold -- the wind and I are both still and silent. An ancient oak supports a young pine tree. Snow will not melt under the sun's fragile rays. Ice cracks, breaks up, and floats down the river. The ground is cold and wet. First morning larks crawl out from their cozy beds beneath the snow. Thick winter fur keeps their bodies warm for long. I grasped a single thread of the spider’s web. Frozen droplets sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. My breath creates a trail of white smoke. The fog is lifting above me now. I move slowly against the piles of snow. I'm terrified to step on nature's toes. Life's warmth is closer to me than ever before.
Age of Elves: Prologue (Giantess/micro) by idunnow, literature
Literature
Age of Elves: Prologue (Giantess/micro)
At the end of the final human-elven war, the elves' greatest mages were assembled to put an end to the conflict once and for all. Together, they cast a powerful shrinking curse that reduced all humans to near-insignificance overnight, thus beginning the Age of Elves. In the days to come, countless humans would be killed by the elves, with everyone from soldiers to vengeful widows and even unsuspecting children taking part in the massacre. Every human that could be found was exterminated. For centuries, humans were believed extinct. It wasn't until the year 813 AE that elven biologists discovered surviving human populations leading an ant-like existence deep in the wilds far from all civilization. The discovery caused a stir in elven society, and tens of thousands traveled to see for themselves that once-proud race which had so troubled their kind in ages past. Some took to crushing whatever humans they came across, whether as revenge for some ancestor killed in the wars or simply
Titus, with your war paint and helmet nailed upon a spike - I see you turning out your pockets and polishing your medals. Whose head will be hoisted tomorrow? You fed children to their mother - bones ground and slipped into a pie, and Lavinia can only mime what she feels, willow sprigs where her hands should be. Rape is a vicious thing. You leave a dead kingdom to no one - they all call for your genitals on a plate. And state burials are only for angels buried waist deep outside the city walls.
He cried at their wedding. He's the type of man who feels like men need to be strong all the time, but he cried at their wedding. He'd been through terrible things in his life. His brother died when he was young, after spending a long time in a coma. His mother died after that, when he was a teenager. His father had never really been in the picture... so his aunt took him in. His aunt's husband mistreated him and greedily tried to take his mother and brother's insurance money for himself. He liked my mom and dad, who were like a second aunt and uncle to him, because they didn't try to take his money. He stayed with us for a while. I was young enough not to truly realize what he was going through. I just thought it was awesome that he got to stay with us. After all that hardship, he found the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was so happy and grateful that he cried at his wedding. He asked me to be one of his maids of honor. I saw his tears
Framme's Cheerleader(FE Engage:Cheer TF/MC) by MirageSand, literature
Literature
Framme's Cheerleader(FE Engage:Cheer TF/MC)
Framme's Cheerleader(FE Engage:Cheer TF/MC) "AHH Divine One, you look so shiny when you sweat!" "Hey! Hey! Look over here! Hey!" AH! The Divine One looked right at me!" "Four, three, two, on, who's our favorite dragon?! You! Y-O-U!" It was inescapable, the words may change but the sentiment stayed the same. Day in, day out, Divine Dragon Alear was bombarded by the passionate praise of one woman. And that woman was one of her stewards and President of the Divine Dragon Fan Club, Framme. Now Alear appreciated that Framme devoted her life to taking care of her, and that she just wanted to show her support. She simply wished that she would do it... a bit less often and perhaps more quietly, or preferably silently. It was a struggle to get anything done with Framme always distracting her, so she tried whatever she could to get Framme to tone it down. Unfortunately nothing worked, but then Alear had an idea that just might work. To get started she just had to tell Vander to assign Framme a
The daily gargled crow is heard, loud and demanding. She pushes herself up. Runs to the kitchen; harina, hot water, salt, butter. All together into a bowl they go; left hand in, right hand in, and smoosh. Keep smooshing till todo se ve igual; everything looks the same. Masa is too dry, add some more water. Formed arepas go on the stove, one after the other. A few minutes on one side; flip the arepa; a few more minutes go by; take that one off and put on the next arepa. A uniform is gingerly pulled off the clothesline; running back inside, it goes on. Slightly wet socks go on first, and then feet go into suffocating shoes. ¡Chava apurate! She dashes out the door. Girls run together to school. She sits quietly, her back stiff against her seat. Screetch, screetch, screetch. Looking around, all heads are bowed, hands furiously moving from left to right. Screetch, screetch, screetch. She looks down. Blank. No se que hacer, no se nada. Smack; a hot, stinging sensation dissipates as soon as
put it in the past by MidnightShadow83, literature
Literature
put it in the past
put it in the past leave it all behind focus on the task coming down the line keep wearing the mask with its flaws and fines still too much to ask still too much to climb step into tomorrow running from today knowing what was borrowed still must be repaid frozen in the sorrow where choices were made because of the morrow where better men would fade put it in the past leave it all behind know that it will clash trust it will be fine push beyond the mask must from time to time still too much to ask still too much to rhyme step into tomorrow running from today rooted with the yarrow edging fields of play frozen in the sorrow weaknesses displayed because of the morrow where better men would fade put it in the past leave it all behind (1/1/23)
Look at you, as you dare to throw caution to the wind. Damn them all you yell high from your golden hill, let the stars guide your fate. Never would I doubt your mind or courage to fight them all on this. Ever to will your own destiny, how do you stand so strong? Do not look at me when I snicker or blush. It is just your power, your charm that moves my heart and soul. What art of faith or trick of mind guides you on to be the person you are? If only I knew. Or maybe it is best not to know your mind, because you would not amuse me so. Certainly, a dancer who makes their own music instead. Please, gift me with more time to lay here under the sun and watch you be.
We rub mud on compressed plants Dreaming of an object, a person, a place Perplexed by cobwebs Holding up magnifying glasses to our eyes Dissecting and rearranging With scalpels made of wood and animal hair Gorillas use slender sticks to fish for ants Their human-like hands are just as deft But we fish for things that are not there And what we are hungry for is not food Longing for and dwelling on mosaics of mud We could say that the soul needs this food But why do our souls eat this?
I walk with the moon, every night, on the balcony.
And the moon, smiles at me
Some nights!
Clouds keep me from seeing the moon,
And I wait, until the kind winds, slowly push them away
And moon smiles at me!
But sometimes,
Sky gets angry,
And clouds get scared and cry!
And I miss the moon and I cry missing the moon,
Every night,
I surely walk on the balcony ,
Until the moon smiles at me !
And the moon surely smiles!!!
Written: October 2019
Copyrighted: 2019