You can no longer comment on this thread as it was closed due to no activity for a month.
librarylibrary labyrinth, I watched the shelves dissolve into a maze;
their walls a barrier that
between books, and books, and paper;and words, they match her pupils;and letters, they warn me not to stare -
I stare, she does not stare back and so it's
back to pages and
papers of olden days,
their flavours wave beneath my tired
nose my wakeful
nose my wary
open mouth my
beating heart my
heart it courses through my skin I feel
shelves - they creak like cages; between bars between books I see her feathery waves they
crash on barren
I Will MarryI'll marry an intellect
and we will have endless conversions into the night,
exchanging profound words and infinite meaning,
and we will wind
the roots of life
and the universe will be ours.
I'll marry a musician
and we will serenade each other with
wild harmonies and
gentle melodies and our instruments
will weave themselves with our bodies
and the future will become a
symphony of swapping songs and singing ourselves
I'll marry a girl
and we will be more delicate than withering leaves
and we will be extensions
of each other; one continuous
river of soft, whispering water
that mirrors the pale sunset
funeralI did not speak at your funeral.
Though you knew me as a writer
I did not write a speech.
On the way to the funeral I stood on my
front porch and heard the
copper leaves rustle and
decided that was enough. The
wind spoke all that was needed from
The others wore black and
even though the words were
I said nothing.
I did not
cry. I heard jokes and happy memories
but I thought they were dark.
I could pour my memories into the
empty air and whisper how
something that created me was
I could murmur
meant anything anymore
Back to NatureTogether we are frolicking in fields of infloresecence
Where we pick and feed each other wild berries
I am tasting the sweet water from a freshly cut vine
As you hold the bough over my head, the nectar drips down my throat
After we swim with pink dolphins, we hold each other close
As we lock our lips in a passionate kiss, submerged under water
Body to body, face to face, we lift out our heads,
and let out a giggle as a fish swims by, tickling our legs
Our summer trip does not last forever
But the memory certainly does...
It is now winter and we are still madly in love
We look in each others' eyes and then go outside
We walk hand
Not The One"Not The One"
I was so hoping it
Was meant to be
When my eyes met you
You struck a chord in me...
You were golden tan,
With a nice body...
But I knew it was
Not meant to be
When I took you out
For a night on the town,
Took you for a ride
And spun you around...
The seat was too low
And the gas tank leaked
And I brought you back
To the lot downtown.
Written 15 January 2002
My Favorite Spot.My name is Emily Ross. To the world, I am a struggling college student, who's shy and overall a reserved young lady. If only the world knew. If only they knew the real Emily. Do you ever feel like you know yourself too much? Or you know too much about yourself? You are the only person in the world that you genuinely know and understand. Most people usually only let out the 'good' side or the side more appealing to others. You don't get to see who they really are behind closed doors, or understand why they are the way they are. Nobody really knows each other at all. The only people we truly know, is ourselves. That is why if I had a choice, I
The Dracona Society Ch1
Three people, a raven haired young woman, a blonde one that appeared to be slightly older, and a blonde teenage girl, all ran to the end of a hallway. To their right was a simple wooden door, to their left and in front of them, a wall. "Where's..." the raven haired one started. "I've hidden him. Give me Astrid, I'll protect her too." The teen said.
"No,no I can't." The raven haired said. "This. Is. Happening. Anne. Give Astrid to Tarine." The older blonde said to Anne. "There they are!" Someone shouted. "Now, Anne!" the older blonde said.
"Take them to their father," "There's not enough time to take them both! One will have to live with never knowing!" The older said. Anne reluctantly handed the child she had been holding close over to Tarine. As soon as Astrid was in her arms, Tarine ran past the soldiers that had been coming her way. Before they could grab her she disappeared through a door and into a hidden passage way.
"Where did she go
The Dracona Society Ch2 As Fira thought more about the dream, time passed quickly. Before she knew it, they were in New York, approaching her grandfather's home. The place was huge, it had been in the family since the Allunare's moved to America when Mathias was a child. Fira had always wondered where they had moved to America from, Mathias didn't know, Aiden always said it was England, but she's heard Aiden and her Grandfather saying otherwise. Not that they would admit it. "Go take the horses around back." Mathias said, turning the truck off and getting out. He unlocked the trailer and unhooked it. Fira led the horses away and opened the gate to the field. After feeding them, she walked out and closed the gate. She walked up to the back door, but before she could open it she noticed carvings on the door frame. "That's odd..." she said, walking into the kitchen from the back. Fira had never been here before, so she decided to explore. She made her way to the at
blood bait and loveI awoke with the taste of his blood still on my tongue, His screaming in my head, and the smell of the dead. The worst dream of them all. I knew it wasn't real but it WAS what I saw. Ironically I awoke on Halloween. My sister ran in screaming about what she had seen. Not understanding a word, I asked my mother what she had heard. Something about the basement was all she caught. Slowly I made my way down, my stomach in a knot. What is that smell growing as I descend? I reached the end, the last stair. Was my dream real? She asked me to open the door, did I dare? She looked to me in horror. I fell to the floor, my body heavy and sore. Standing
puppet master story begining"Hello welcome to henrys puppets and toys. Here we will fix old toys or make custom toys. We also have many pre made and ordered toys. If we do not have what you want in stock we will order it or make it for you." The puppet leaves the commercial set and drags his weak body back to the toy shop. He walks past the soulless dolls that seem to stair at him as if knowing that he too has no soul. The body which has only been his for a day began to grow heavier and heavier until he could no longer move it and collapsed to the hard, cold ground of the shop.
The puppet that seems to take the role of the shops owner looks down at his weak co-worker
HauntedThe house was silent save for my own disturbed ridden thoughts and the wind knocking at the windows. Everyone else had gone out, and I was left alone.
I wanted it to be this way. They needed some time alone together, and I needed to be alone myself. This was the night I had planned it, and yet, I was at a loss of how to actually execute my own demise, even when it came down to two options.
My bed was littered with paper - the product of a sad attempt at numerous suicide notes, a few razors that had been knocked onto my bed from my own movement, and my father's revolver with a single bullet by it's side, all laid about me.
The stinging, fre
Letters to myself, part VI - Smoke pollution.you smile as if you'll never be lonely.
as if you will never know life without the living, what it's not like to be embraced without arms folded around your pillow-shaped chest. you are frozen into position, stuck behind the optic nerve. i have trapped you as an image on my brain and i refuse to let you go. regretfully, you've looked at me. scarcely. vaguely. he's just the image on my brain, i ordered.
we're a carousel train wreck. accidental overdose. abandon the suicide mission, let's just die as estranged lovers and perhaps, this will all be over soon.
and as you lie down your arguments, of why you shouldn't be loved
Other side of the road, please.nine.
what is your
emerge is to not be something before
like sticking things into the fog and creating ghosts
like a magician's act, the rabbit out of the tall hat poof.
it is not there, it is there.
we'll contemplate about existence, about being, about
development and evolvement, later.
forget about the fact that it sounds as stupid as it looks
know that it means consistency as well as dependency
and then realise that emerge-ency
does in fact
sounds as stupid as it looks.
that, in fact, sounds as stupid as it looks.
unless they are screaming hell and mu
Letters to myself, part III - Skeletonshe had slender feet and crooked toes.
she cut her toenails too short too close to the core where flesh met bone and where veins were mapped in sweet chivalry. the skin was dusty and stapled, improperly held together - just like everything else in her life but she would move swiftly and running. there was a scar on the right side of her extremity; darker of colour with rugged edges and retraceable lines.
the bone was bended in shame and rejection, the force of gravity slowly pulling it down until they dug in the earth. disfigured and dismembered, shoes would not fit not even when hot leather is carefully wrapped around
The sore kneepeople don't understand
what it's like
to ride a merry-go-round
and have it
who you are
and have it
outline the purpose
of your life.
the cherry red
music that makes you
smile and unable to resist
the urge to sway your shoulders
and move your hips
and miss the beat.
for futile moments
you stand the side-line and
watch it go round and decide
what you wish to ride
on the merry-go-round.
go on, come hop on
and join me
for a moment of bliss
and the remembrance of joy
and this is how to keep
youth in a plastic animal.
i am a merry-go-round
watch me go round and round
travel in circles and be
Thunder's gone, the lightning too,
And sun has washed the clouds away
Rainbow shimmers into view,
And look who's come to play!
See fine fur that glistens white?
Behold majestic horn!
Silent as a moonless night,
A splendid unicorn!
Feeling free and frolicsome
It bows and starts to prance.
A kitten and a puppy come
To join its joyous dance.
Soon a muskrat, fox and lamb,
A bunny and a squirrel
Are each as happy as a clam,
Having joined the whirl.
As the animals commune,
A merry song fills their bazaar.
See the elves that play this tune,
One on a flute, one on guitar?
With all of this harmonium
Tribute to Three WorldsMC Escher's Three Worlds
Reflecting, child of Netherlands,
upon the pond, and in his hands
he carries lithographic tools.
Pondering ponds, rivers and pools,
he captures them. He understands
the fluid flowing over sands
or silt or peat. The view commands
he enter nature's vestibules,
On nearby forest's noble stands.
a curious catfish demands
obeisance to the pond-life's rules.
Ripples dissolve trees. Catfish schools
artist, its eyes, like pond with lands,
Live for the PresentDwelling in the past,
Is merely a fool's errand.
Live for the present.
PathsThere are no wrong paths,
Though not all can be correct,
One can only walk.
Rain FallsRain falls constantly,
Click Clack Click Clack on the roof,
I can't sleep at all.
Non-chromatic LiningsClouds of the mind's sky,
Rarely take on a clear shape,
Only abstract lines
StruggleThe pride in one's heart,
Must never lead you astray,
From your one true path.
BeyondA life beyond this,
One of fantastic wonder,
Will I ever reach?
Four WallsFour walls closing in,
The blue sky outside calling,
No time for sunshine.
corners and paintswatches.
i loved you in a way that was engulfing for my young heart. for someone still small enough to fit all limbs and troubles into the bath tub with ease. i remember that was how i thought of it the other night when i tried for the first time in years to soak and wash this feeling away with warm water and bubbles. but i didn't cackle with a bubble beard, and it left my fingers wrinkled and feeling my age something severe. you've been hiding around corners all week. i was flicking through my dvd collection, procrastinating, or lost in what was the last thing to be moved back into my room after i finally gave up with the blue and how i admitted i couldn't stand another night surrounded by walls that we'd painted together. i choked on the crow. and remembered you thought that if you took my last name, you'd inherit his skills and you'd be able to stop anything from hurting me ever again. but you're still in the parts of me that i thought i could li
such force, such weight.she began to cry, not just the kind of crying that people can walk past as feel a slight ping in their chest, this was the kind that spread, jumping from chest to chest, throat to throat, leaving eyes misty and people choking on invisible tangles. you could see it building up in her fragile body like a monsoon, all consuming and ready to break and swallow her whole. it was stuck in the places she could shake loose and she could feel it in 5 places all at once, each one a small target for something invisible to kick and poke and leave sore and aching in a stupid way that isn't bad enough to complain about, but enough to leave her heavy and weighed down. and i swear she would have broken down and tried to shoved the ground aside with her hands, wanting to become bones with you, and not caring your half flesh, half death with an ever dented (bashed in) skull. i could feel it in my throat, the lump, the physical sadness.
Untitledthings she's destroyed this year; two washing machines from the pockets she fills with rocks when the rains come and she wants to drown the corners of all her books from flicking bending and shaking edges whenever she thinks of you you stupid boy her first car crumpled in a ravine and it left a scar on her stomach that she sometimes can poke and feel a lump that science can't explain and she thinks it physical sadness resting waiting the entire box of plates that her mother gave her for moving out and making it on her own well, she almost made it but something about them being under the ground left her shaking uncontrollably and the tears slid underneath fingertips and she lost the grip and didn't notice until she'd ran to phone and left a trail of her insides along the corridor. her heart lines or whatever it is that lets the happiness in they're sealed shut tight and all she can do is stare at things that don't notice her whatever it was that connected him and her and let th
gravity. i always wondered
if this was an outwardly apparent thing.
oh look at her
i can see her cheekbones
or theres a bit of a slight
in the way she breathes
like something is catching in her chest
and threatening to swallow her whole.
i can fucking smell it on her.
she wants to die.
its a definite scent you know
or maybe its completely hidden
and its only when i swallow too much air
and my lungs spasm
and burn and i choke and my face
turns the same colour
as a week old bruise
that i realise i can feel a rush
when my brain trips over the
i might just die thought
that normally scares people
but not me.
Island Above the Sea i don't need your saving devices,
i'm fine, you see, i'm defined by
the brand of slants you call words
- a name
so you can keep me close;
a barcode to identify me.
"who are you today?"
my head is split, maybe open,
but i'm hoping that you can fix it
since this world became
where trends turn into
floods of addiction.
intoxicate me with your tidal
fluids - i can drown in this
liquid riddle of hateful
my body is infected by the septic
you planted in me.
transplanted tides rush through my mind
turning timed thoughts to mush.
'why am i falling in this ocean?
The Black Bullets Ch. 5I sat down next to the mark and said, “What’s up, Peirce? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Peirce took one look at me, took a sip from his drink and asked, “What happened to your leg?”
“What happened to your arm,” I said, annoyed.
“Want a drink,” he asked, dodging the question.
“You’re not going to say ‘Hi’ to an old friend,” I asked, “You’re so evil.”
I got him to chuckle. “It’s been awhile. I heard you were in jail.”
“Eh, I had connections to get out of there early.”
“And your p
The Black Bullets Ch.6“Okay, I’m out now,” I said into the com.
“Great, how’s it look,” Peirce asked in a low voice.
“Uhh, I see security cameras around, but that’s about it.”
The Audino twisted it’s head up at me and said its name.
“Good, you can handle that,” Peirce said, “But where are the Pokemon being held at?”
“Audino, can you show me where the pokemon are being held for when you guys are waiting for the trainers to show up,” I asked.
Audino’s eyes lit up as it grinned from ear to ear. It grabbed my hand and started running. At the end of the hall was a do
Changes in thier LiteratureShe spoke like poetry and He talked like a novel. They could study the atmosphere of a pond, but after time went on, it became boring, plain and dull, as if their was no soul in their memories.
I was aware of their differences; He preferred silverware and She preferred chopsticks, chopsticks were creative and silverware, well silverware were just easy to control.
Their minds...Their minds were considered Brilliant, because She spoke like poetry and He talked like a novel. That's how it was back then, when their eyes were adventurous and believed in sun drops.
opposites directionsI'm a disaster hole out of kindness...
Dear darling, I don't have a heart that shines, just one that fades...over time.
like a deranged songbird that sings, but didn't want to in the first place, but still does because it knows it has to, it always knew it had to. And over time, the song won't be there anymore and I'm not sure if anyone will miss it.
For the sake of my existence I am that deranged songbird and my song is not meant to be missed. To live it is the world, the one that raised me for my future, even though I never asked for it, it is their expectation..."my" expectation to be able to live. so said my parents.
the beginning of some sort of madness.So...I sat there, puzzled by a noise that wasn't a sound and looked at something strange that wasn't strange at all.
I was paranoid as always, but no one paid attention to that, thank goodness, but at the same time I wish someone did.
Not Even a Century Has ImproveChange;
You've been going on for a while,
By the constant shape shifting of the world,
Never stopping your time
To slow down your steady pace.
Moving days always makes me remember
Your beautiful cautious singing,
Even though that written voice has been long gone,
Dancing steps to brilliantly fly
Has never been so high,
Because those friendly spirits
Have done their best to end all limits.
But even still,
To touch a fickle heart,
Can cause minds to fall
And list of dreams to fade away
So, my secret to share:
Is that I bought an island
With wishes of solitude,
Desperately wanting to be filled
Sunlight with the TruthStop, drop, roll,
Your delightful mind is taking a toll.
I cannot fully hear it,
But I do see your dreams reflecting from the sun.
So what if we don't talk like other people do?
There is still communication between our presents,
Which maybe others never wish for?
You study the grass and I look at the sky
To create memories of beauty in our adoring hearts.
Love is a simple thing,
When it's felt
Deep inside our meaningful treasures of
We don't pay attention to time,
We live it! Going forth on an adventure,
Connected to surprises, which we try our
Best to make everlasting.
I have a wish and you have a desire
Rebound GirlThere was a girl speaking French on the bus on Tuesday morning. Her voice bubbled up over the rattling growl of the engine and mingled with the muffled ballad coming from the driver’s tinny radio. Robbie leaned his head against the dusty window, crushing his curly hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what she looked like. She laughed and scolded the other person on the phone in French. Robbie chuckled to himself. She must be a stunner with a voice like that.The jerk of the bus pulling up at the stop banged his head against the glass and he rubbed at his temple as he heard the girl finish her conversation and snap her handbag shut. He leaned his elbow against the edge of the window and peered over his shoulder at her as she stood up.It was her eyes that struck him first. Big doe eyes with a dreamy faraway expression like a girl in an old impressionist painting. Her hair was deep velvet brown that boun
Bedside Manner"Breathe in."
Dahlia drew in a deep breath, then let it out again with a huff. "How much longer are you going to keep at this? Surely there's a limit to how much you can learn from listening to my lungs."
She felt the stethoscope move to the other side of her back. "You have no heartbeat, which is the usual alternative," Elsa replied in a cool voice. "The range of diagnostic techniques available to me is somewhat restricted, but we could move on to dissection if you're getting bored."
Dahlia forced herself to count to three before she allowed herself to respond to that. She needed this woman's support, she reminded herself. Or at the
a curious warm feeling, that warmth for youLove stories don't really exist
At least, not how
We were told they would be like.
A shimmering veil, of
Fine silk, gossamer wing of angels and the
Inspired work of gold Grecian muses.
I believed it to be transcendental, divine and earthly,
Parting the curtain to find-
A million monkeys on typewriters.
Baked, stoned out of their minds.
Her ocean blue, the submerged star, and 5 AM.Swimming to the bottom of an infinitesimal ocean of blue and green and white and light, three, maybe four drain spouts (positioned at regular metered intervals). 3, then 4, to 5 in the morning. Swimming with the one I love.
Swimming to the bottom of an infinite ocean of blue. The sun's subtle caress playfully peeking over the treetops high, over the picket fence higher. A curious light shines bright at the bottom, the loving eye of the bed, the urchin, the abyssmal seabed. I dip my head beneath the surface and proceed closer. I dip my head beneath and slowly float towards the star.
Swimming to the bottom of her ocean of blue. Four walls, on
Kansas SkiesUnder these dying Kansas skies,
You sold me and I sold you.
And under my cold fluorescent bulb eyes,
I sold you and you sold me.
Under these dying Kansas skies,
You sold me and I sold you
And under the hazelnut trees in your eyes
I sold you and you sold me.
UntitledCigarette in hand, scotch on the rocks in the other.
Ceramic knife on the countertop. Lemons freshly cut, squeezed over the tracklines, rabbitholes in his right arm.
Shattered bottle in the corner. Remains of a rag, burning sensations licking at the doily, stinging on his injection sites.
A bead of sweat, rolling down his brow, his neck, his chest. He takes a drag. Another bead. He reaches behind him, a familiar wooden vestigial tail, finished and framed around steel.
He puts the gun in his mouth.
Honeysuckle and Wine"Have you tasted honeysuckle and wine?" she mumbled.
"Honeysuckle, you say?"
"The finest." She licked her lips, as did I.
The wind picked up around us as we walked. Manhattan breathed a sigh of relief, as Helios dreamt. I looked at her wedding ring, anxiously.
"Christ, where's the car?" stammered a man behind her.
"Darling, your pom-pom!" She stopped to look.
"3." The buzzer on my wrist sprang to life in an urgent fashion, bells, whistles and whirring gadgets screaming for attention. She was nervous.
"Honey, where did you hide the lighter?" She was nervous.
"Relax, dear. Let's go home."
"2." Fireworks exploded around us. A new