You come home
i know where you've been
i've sat here all alone
just awaiting this
i start to cry
as you push me around
you swear at me
what did i do to you
I smell you
and i want to spit
i want to fight back
but i can't
especially when your like this
in a violent rage
you throw me in a wall
i start running away
but fall to my knees and crawl
The bruises and the blood
ache and pain
tears tripping down my face
the words goin threw my head
are worse then the blows
i've taken to the chest
come on give me your best
More and more harsh things you say
please take me, O God
i beg just to die
as he laughs and laughs
i lay there and cry
unable to move
kicked around like a piece of junk
I can't let it get to me
you're nothin but a drunk
posted by SarahF at 10:04 AM0 comments
A Poorly Organized Stream Of Consciousness
(Note: In order to protect the innocent and avoid legal action against me, some names of people or furniture companies may have been changed or encoded in pig Latin.)
Progmem Vol leaned back in his Azylay Oybay recliner and thought hard. At the moment, he was eying the cat sitting on the foot stool across the room with extreme suspicion. To be fair, the cat was in turn eying a bit of carpet lint with extreme suspicion. Progmem’s suspicion arose from fear of death while the cat’s arose from a poor understanding of the possible list of actions a piece of carpet lint is able to take. His fear came from his deep belief that any and all cats take pleasure in curling up on a man’s face while he is sleeping and subsequently suffocating him to death.
This may seem to you a somewhat strange belief for a person to hold. But, what you must understand is that this was only one of the many strange aspects of Progmem’s person. His mind itself could very accurately be compared to one of those little red rubber things with the holes in it which is used to store screwdriver bits, only, instead of storing screwdriver bits, it stores strange thoughts. Or perhaps even just a bucket or hat of some sort containing slips of paper with strange things written on them. In any event, his mind was somewhat strange.
For instance, the only two things which he imparted to his grandchildren were the ability to swing a golf club with intensely poor form and how to disable a person many times your weight, provided that person is advancing towards you very slowly with their arm (preferably their right arm) extended and the ring finger of that arm at a forty-five degree angle to their palm.
But on to the story, which I am sure many of you have noted I have been neglecting. Progmem gave up keeping his eye on the cat after a few minutes and instead got up and performed some kind of old person action which I am sure I would have been able to insert very smoothly and naturally into this story had I done more research into what it is that old people do all day. But Ethan, my research assistant is still trying to find that cure for cancer I asked him to look into last week, so I’ve been kind of set adrift. Let’s say he made himself a sandwich. Maybe a BLT and a glass of milk for some added detail. And, of course, as we all do after a meal, he began to get sleepy. So he took a nap in his Azylay Oybay recliner.
The cat meanwhile, in part because I own several cats and was able to research their behavior much more thoroughly, finished his observation of the carpet lint and proceeded to dig the plant out of the pot in the corner. At which point she caught scent of the leftover milk on Progmem’s lips and went to sit on his face.
posted by Connor Mills at 6:49 PM0 comments
So I was busy this weekend ok?
Before I go
I must return.
My book is not yet finished.
This chapter is not yet gone.
My life is a different story.
A tale not for the weak of heart.
It came from a different novel.
An essay dropped from the shelf of time.
And broken from those pages.
I take leave of my life.
My footsteps carry me
like clouds upon wind,
drifting in the pale light of the dawning day...
I go in search of adventure.
I'll give you this bottle of chlorophorm if you let me see The Who...
I cannot see
I cannot feel
There is no way to tell.
I can't escape
There's no way out
Of this self-inflicted hell.
A broken heart still cries,
And a broken life still dies,
It'll all be over soon.
I've been in this car forever,
I'll ride this road forever,
'till forever afternoon.
posted by J-dog-N at 5:00 PM0 comments
Elves and witches
Beggars and riches
Come to my mind as I sit.
I rescue damsels, save the planet,
Mine diamonds, out of granite;
All in my mind as I sit.
I've fought a million battles,
I've stopped a million more.
I've been a million places,
I'd never seen before.
I've sailed gigantic boats,
Flown super-sonic planes,
I've fed medieval horses,
On rare and foreign grains.
I rode with Paul Rever.
I fought with Captain Hook.
I followed Sherlock Holmes;
Helped foil every crook.
I do not try to wish,
I've got everything I need.
And everything I could imagine,
When I take the time to read.
posted by J-dog-N at 4:56 PM0 comments
Shots ring out
I hear people scream
red splatters on the window
I wish I was in a dream
I feel a sharp pain
deep in my chest
people stare at me
shouting and yelling words
I try to move but i cannot
I find myself on the ground
starting to see darkness
the pain grows more intense
I look around
thoughts run threw my head
more are on the ground
why can't I see
Things grow blurry
trying to think clearly
suddenly I see
the man who did all this runs by
he turns around quickly
I get a glance at ... her eyes
It's a woman
she looks desperate
I wonder what she's thinking
why would she do this
to take another life
people rush over to me
I argued and fought
for awhile ...
it appears I've been shot
Amazing I'm still alive
they to me to hang on
I say don't worry I'll survive
I've got a lot to live for
too much to be thankful for
And I'd never want to switch places
with that piece of shit
O God, please never
make me that desperate
posted by SarahF at 10:19 AM0 comments
hush my cries with your big stong arms
you're stronger than me
your mind is greater
your strength is higher
i'm the second class one
i am happy to be second class
i can never be as good as you
i wash your clothes and make you dinner
i give myself to you
do whatever you want, you are my ruler
since my body is smaller
that means i am weaker
that means i should never try
it's been like this forever
that means i shouldn't try to change it
i shouldn't have thoughts like that to begin with
i will try my best to stay pretty
put on my makeup my pushup bra
shave my legs cause that's what we do
hairy legs are gross for me
but handsome on you
put on my perfume cause that's how we smell
talk like a baby, got the mind of a baby
please control me
i'm so helpless in this big world
cause you know so much more than me
that's what the school says
that's what the bible says
that's what my mommy says
my body is my only asset
when you make fun of it that's okay with me
when it fades i will be nothing
you won't love me anymore
but you'll still protect me
oh, my god you will won't you
i worship you
kill the women, kill the children
off with their heads, off with their heads
i took a walk outside this morning
dead and dying, bombs exploding
i saw your colors and your big powerguns
i saw your flag soaring
you've got get in our business
save everything, play the hero
really all you do is feed your rage
love to shoot, love to stab
love to drop bombs over our houses
watch our bodies burning and dancing
watch your video games to pump you up
see the blood, taste the fear
watch your porn to make you ready for action
good little fighters, very good boys
take your drugs to make you happy
happy about raping my mother, killing my baby sister
good old white men smiling
so moral so right
listen to your leader, listen to his great mind
listen to his words of war
GOD BLESS AMERICA
posted by kristi at 7:28 AM0 comments
Magestic, thoughtful, beautiful. Such words are meaningless to it. It watches us move about...what fools we must appear to a rose. As we change from one thing to another, the rose invests its entire life in growing and living. How rewarding it must be.
Its sweet smell is not from the praise we give it, but from its simple existance; its self. As we fight and destroy one another the rose lives and grows. It is steadfast in its purpose and cannot be detered. Even if we pick them or step on them, they never try to harm us in spiteful revenge.
Roses are neither greedy nor jealous, hating nor lustful, vengeful nor vicious. Yet they have so much power. They live without complaint, rage, or regret. There are so many different kinds or roses, yet they all live and grow togther. We could learn so much from a rose.....
posted by Ender at 5:50 PM0 comments
A shape like a box shaped like a toaster,
A texture like venetian blinds on a snowy summer holiday in Spain,
A smell like polycarbonate plastic that’s been left out in the rain for too long,
A small blemish, like a bit of moon on a cold Earth,
A black cord sullied by the rough hands of a VEWC Corp machine,
A color like the sun, or anything for that matter, after one has been looking at the sun for too long,
That is a pelican,
Until you sell it.
posted by Connor Mills at 5:39 PM0 comments
Light in Dark Places
she walked me to the door
and pointed to the light
there was nothing beyond it
posted by jj_fisher at 5:38 PM0 comments
The Death of a Rose
A rose is blooming, bright and red
Sweet perfume rising from labyrinth petals
The prickly thorns stand to sting
Those who would pluck her from her bed
Yet that is the rose's fate
To be torn from her birthing place
A man has picked her for his bride
The gouging thorns he has not heeded
A simple pleasure-a momentary delight
A rose left to die, to perish in the sun
The sweet scent slowly fades away
The moment of live is past
So goes the rose, condemned to death by love
—posted by Sarah Iverson
The Faithful Few
Through the shadowed years they come
There should be many, there are but few
The rest of them have faded away
Tangled in their work
or lingering in their play
The faithful few still venture on
Straying not to dusk from dawn
Though many times they feel to fail
They near the end of their trail
At the end their dreams do lie
The dreams they as a child spied
The masses have foregone their dreams
As simple nonsense, or as games
But the few dreamer still go on
To find that dream they claimed their own
Will they continue to the end
And find that thing that beckons them?
Until the end, no one knows
And so, forever on they go
—posted by Sarah Iverson
Once upon a yesterday
Once upon a yesterday
There was a girl.
She was beautiful...
She stole my heart.
And stayed where she was.
Once upon a tomorrow
We'll see what happens...
posted by J-dog-N at 5:32 PM0 comments
Grass poking up from the ground
like knives viewed from inside your skin
Earth in your hands seeping through fingers
like the life you can't control
Wind carrying a seed to a place of settle
like your guilt realized in your mind
A flash of lightning
like the shot of whiskey you swallowed,
Petals falling off flowers
Sounding like thunder as they drop Drop DROP
like the broken mirror you cut yourself on
like the broken face that stared back at you
like the willow trees in the wind
posted by kristi at 10:32 AM0 comments
organ music in november skies
The moon attacks the orange ball in the elevator.
The moon forgives the honey at midnight.
Like an old shoe, the sun exacerbates tree mulch
In the juice box the moon erases the ancient coloring book.
It is time for the moon to mince the eggnog.
Halloween flew like the vultures to the moon.
Don’t eat what sinks in the green water.
Our satellite cries like a sap tree on the yellow brick road.
Now the pink moon steals the tree’s spotlight.
The moon pines for a mountaineer to yodel like a poodle.
In Kurt’s mind, the mono scuttles to a treasure chest.
.gnimaerd dezilatigid tegrof reven lliw noom ehT
posted by RyanSwanson at 9:07 PM0 comments
The building quivers in the lamp light. The freezing lava runs through its cement veins. The wind
picks up and the building looks helplessly at the squirrel. The wind rushes on and on until it passes
The stars look down upon the building where grass used to enjoy growing.
But now the river of clocks trickles by instead. As time itself is slowed down to say goodbye, the
building looks back at the black sun, which is enjoying the smell of music.
The light now ignores the building all together. Even if reality noticed it, it was to be unnoticed.
This world was tired of standing, and the building stopped listening. The end came and went, and
the building still struggles against the sands.
posted by Ender at 6:26 PM0 comments
In My Hands
a sword is taking a bath next to me
the water is a still blue but dull
we can change that
pointing at the window in the clouds
the sword is breaking cloaks of air
into mothers and father
who break into children
children who become God
and still the sword is pointing at them
they can waltz anytime
but stay on the right counts
0 1 2 9 and 6
neon bar light
the sword is clean but not the water
can you guess what color it is?
can you guess how many people aren't me?
posted by jj_fisher at 6:01 PM0 comments
Known As Freedom, How Can Such A Thing
What is it like when someone in a crowded room begins to scream,
"Ow", for no reason?/
How would you describe the feeling it to a deaf, dumb, blind man who
has no taste buds, lacks all sense of feeling throughout the entirety of
his skin, has been legally brain-dead for quite some time, and is
encased in a solid block of sodium?/
If you played the sensation on a spinning harsichord, what would the
song title be?/
And what is the name of the person driving the bus?/
Would you speak to him with garbled fire?/
Would you touch him with red moonlight?/
Would you allow him to taste the word "elfudges"?/
Would he be able to smell a picture of my grandmother, or one of yours?/
Would you show him a picture of love?/
My song title would be "Joe Rocket, Two Uneven Stripes and a Parabola."?/
But most importantly, what type of fire extinguisher would you use if
his block caught fire?/
posted by Connor Mills at 5:49 PM0 comments
Sitting on the chair in the den, the bear contemplated his life. It was a
sad tale, full of betrayal and absurdity.
He sat thinking about the time that Al had taken the last cookie, and
left him only with a lamp. Now he sat on his chair holding a cookie
AND a lamp.
"The world is mine to control!" he shouted. Quickly he put the cookie in
Bears don't have pockets.
Bears don't have cookies or lamps either.
I said be quiet!
Achmed threw the clamp into the river. The woodchuck ran for cover.
The bear's eyes shifted nervously from side to side. He swiftly
unplugged the lamp, and hid under a blanket. A mouse lurked in the
corner. The bear ate his cookie in the dark under the blanket. Alas,
alack, now he had no cookie, and his lamp was out!
Almost the end.
Not quite the end.
posted by J-dog-N at 5:45 PM0 comments
Ode to the Rose and the Trout--a silly, maybe surrealist, I don't really know, poem.
The two together have gone unheeded
The rose and the trout
The perfect couple, a flawless match
The plant and fish unite
For has the world not noticed?
So many similarities they possess
The rose will show its bright petals
And the trout the rainbow scales
Also--you will find it true
That minus water, both will shrivel
In the dry heat, become dry, crusty, and flaky
The rose and her trout
The rose's thorns, shining so sharp
Can you not say the same.....
Of the fifteen hooks in the prize fish' mouth
Left by defeated fishermen
Their song still is left unsung
The alliance is unnoticed
Can anyone else in this world see?
Rose and trout-perfect harmony
Posted by Sarah Iverson
Bingo Night at Wishek Home for the Aged
The burnt smell polluted my nostrils.
Twelve small toast-people sprang from the slits in this bagel scorcher.
I turned around only to face an entire wall of toasters
levitating inches above the ground,
breathing down my neck.
So, I breathed down their necks.
I saw then that the toasters did not levitate.
I had sunk inches into the ground.
I took a few steps, gathering quail plumage as I walked.
It was then that I had the realization:
maybe, MAYBE the toasters were poisonous.
I'm allergic to poison, and so is my stepfather.
I ran away.
I tripped, though, on my brother's Christmas tree.
posted by BriH at 5:45 PM0 comments
Fast, nervous, sounds like thunder. The doctor gave me these little yellow pills. Mommy told me
they’re because I’m sad. Sometimes they make me feel like I’m flying. My mommy says that I should
take them even if I feel a little funny cause the side effects will go away soon and I just have to get
used to them. My mommy’s a very pretty lady. She says I shouldn’t feel sad; I need to take my pills
cause she doesn’t want me to feel sad. Today I took a couple more pills than I was supposed to. I didn’t
tell mommy cause she would be mad at me. They look like candy; I like candy, I LIKE MY PILLS SOMETIMES THEY MAKE ME FEEL SILLY SOMETIMES I LIKE MY PILLS SOMETIMES!!!!!!
I’m talking louder and louder and I feel like an airplane taking off. I can do anything!
When my daddy died I was with him in the store. My daddy owned a candy store. I used to come a
long with him to work and he would give me candy. One day a man came in with a knife. Daddy’s face looked funny. Daddy said some things but the man didn’t stop coming closer to him. The man didn’t
see me hiding in the backroom. I could see my daddy. Daddy made a loud noise.. and, and, I waited
till I heard the door close. For a while I watched the blood on the white tile floor crawl closer to me,
like a snake.
One day I made up a game called Charley. Charley was a game where you tried to jump off high things
and land on your toes. I knew I could do it cause my cat showed me how. I put on my cape made from
my favorite blanket. My blanket had puppies on it. I put on my cape and I flew right off the roof of my
told her I jumped off the roof. Mommy said I was lying. Sometimes she’s just silly, mommy is.
One time I put my hand in the fish tank and the fish felt like Jello.
Today I took almost 10 pills. MOMMY’S NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW, HA HA!! When I grow up
I want to be a sailor. I wanna live on fish and play with mermaids. Mommy said that I can be anything
I want to be. Mommy cries at night.
Today my doctor gave me red pills too. He says I should take them with the little yellow ones. I
don’t like the red pills as much. They make me sleepy. Sometimes I feel like I’m sleeping when
my eyes are open. Sometimes I have scary dreams during the day. Mommy and doctor say I should
keep taking my pills so I feel better. They don’t want me to be sad anymore.
I FEEL WONDERFUL!!! I AM SPINNING AND I AM FLYING, I’M ALL THE WAY IN THE
NEXT ROOM!!! MOMMY CAN’T EVEN SEE ME AND I’M RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER!!!
Today me and mommy went to visit daddy. He’s in the ground. I fell asleep on his grave. His hand
touched my cheek and I giggled.
—Posted by Kristi
6 cups too many
As i sit here and write this, i wonder where you have gone. You were just here. "Benjamin! Go get my tea!" Across the room the butler loks down and then back up and says, " ...but miss?" And then leaves the room. The door slams shut. I turn around to see you, but your still not here. what was that noise? I thought someone had come in. Oh well, silly me.
My beautiful red dress is laying over there on my bed. The way it sparkles, oh i just know you will love it. I have an appointment in twenty minutes. I can't wait to get my hair done. The color has just gone gray. I don't understand it. My long flowing brown lockes were wonderful, and how you loved them so. The way they flew threw the wind and moved across my skin. And well my skin, it just isn't the same today. I suppose i will have to go to the spa with mother tomorrow. You know how she loves the touch of another man, and when we walk out of there or skin just glows.
Daddy left early yesterday morning for another business trip. As i watched his plane take off i saw that amazing tower. It seems just like yesterday when it was finished. "Benjamin, what is this? I don't drink tea?" "But miss, you asked for another."
Two men dress in white slide into the room. It is funny because they act like it is some kind of secret mission. "Well, this is an odd escort service. Gentlemen I'm going to be late for my appointment, so let's get a move on. "They take the old woman out of the house. A white van is parked there. One of the men in white takes a last look into the room. "I'm sorry we had to do it this way mother." He begins to close the door and see six cups of untouched tea. Benjamin follows his gaze. "Today ... was a better day for her, yesterday it was seven." The faded red dress sits next to the tea, also untouched.
—Posted by Sarah F
Symphony in That Color Whose Name You Can Never Quite Think Of
After months of careful deliberation, Wrick Gatsby decided that the world had stopped caring. That was part of the reason that he had stopped caring. Of course, that was not all of the reason, he also hated palm trees. There are always two sides to every story, two faces to every coin, he thought to himself as he rammed the school van into the 16 wheel semi truck trailer. For instance, he thought, the reasonable man would probably say that the driver of the truck was probably in a hurry, that he had a delivery to make. But Wrick didn't care, couldn't care just so long as the world didn't care and people kept planting palm trees. And really, he thought, but the thought was cut short by the fact that his brain realized that he had just struck an object with his left front fender. A very large object. Normally, his brain would have decided that such an action, if cntinued, would probably put said brain in a great deal of trouble. But Wrick was ignoring his brain.
Of course, Wrick thought, surely to have a thought, one must use one's brain. But, his brain argued, why should one be so close-minded as to say such a thing. Because, said Wrick, growing steadily angrier at his mind, I have lost my mind and so don't have a mind even to close. His brain thought about that. Oh yeah? it thought back, well... well... your mom.
Wrick wreveled in victory as the semi fish-tailed off the road and into a fake palm tree store.
posted by Connor Mills at 4:02 PM0 comments
Fast, nervous, sounds like thunder. The doctor gave me these little yellow pills. Mommy told me they’re because I’m sad. Sometimes they make me feel like I’m flying. My mommy says that I should take them even if I feel a little funny cause the side effects will go away soon and I just have to get used to them. My mommy’s a very pretty lady. She says I shouldn’t feel sad; I need to take my pills cause she doesn’t want me to feel sad. Today I took a couple more pills than I was supposed to. I didn’t tell mommy cause she would be mad at me. They look like candy; I like candy, I LIKE MY PILLS SOMETIMES THEY MAKE ME FEEL SILLY SOMETIMES I LIKE MY PILLS SOMETIMES!!!!!! I’m talking louder and louder and I feel like an airplane taking off. I can do anything!
When my daddy died I was with him in the store. My daddy owned a candy store. I used to come a long with him to work and he would give me candy. One day a man came in with a knife. Daddy’s face looked funny. Daddy said some things but the man didn’t stop coming closer to him. The man didn’t see me hiding in the backroom. I could see my daddy. Daddy made a loud noise.. and, and, I waited till I heard the door close. For a while I watched the blood on the white tile floor crawl closer to me, like a snake.
One day I made up a game called Charley. Charley was a game where you tried to jump off high things and land on your toes. I knew I could do it cause my cat showed me how. I put on my cape made from my favorite blanket. My blanket had puppies on it. I put on my cape and I flew right off the roof of my apartment building. I landed on my toes. I knew I could land on my toes. Mommy started crying when I told her I jumped off the roof. Mommy said I was lying. Sometimes she’s just silly, mommy is.
One time I put my hand in the fish tank and the fish felt like Jello.
Today I took almost 10 pills. MOMMY’S NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW, HA HA!! When I grow up I want to be a sailor. I wanna live on fish and play with mermaids. Mommy said that I can be anything I want to be. Mommy cries at night.
Today my doctor gave me red pills too. He says I should take them with the little yellow ones. I don’t like the red pills as much. They make me sleepy. Sometimes I feel like I’m sleeping when my eyes are open. Sometimes I have scary dreams during the day. Mommy and doctor say I should keep taking my pills so I feel better. They don’t want me to be sad anymore.
I FEEL WONDERFUL!!! I AM SPINNING AND I AM FLYING, I’M ALL THE WAY IN THE NEXT ROOM!!! MOMMY CAN’T EVEN SEE ME AND I’M RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER!!!
Today me and mommy went to visit daddy. He’s in the ground. I fell asleep on his grave. His hand touched my cheek and I giggled.
posted by kristi at 12:03 PM0 comments
what is a good title for the super short story?
Running as fast and far away was all Monica could think about. She started to regret ever getting to know Dave, and now she knew better than to anger him. It was almost too late for that now, though. She knew he had a short fuse, but never believed she would taste her own blood because of it.
It was over now, though. She couldn’t recall how she ever escaped being cornered against the wall in the bathroom. It didn’t matter anymore, she was now free.
Something happened that night. While running away in the trees, she felt a sense of euphoria. Her senses were heightened, and she experienced her environment like it was the first time. She now could almost hear the ants marching along the cool damp ground. She could resolve more stars in the moon lit night than ever before, and the taste of blood in her mouth was almost nauseating. Her sense of smell was outstanding; she could sense subtle animal urine everywhere, and smell the blood in her mouth.
Her sense of touch was strengthened the greatest. She could feel every defect on the bathroom floor as her blood soaked face crashed into it. She was on her back, static, staring at the spackled ceiling with one light while the blood leached out of her brain.
posted by RyanSwanson at 12:43 PM0 comments
Do you see me?
Looked at me
But you still don’t
I tried so hard
Wishing for your attention
So many subtle things
But you still don’t
You’re watching them
Where was I
I’m the one who tried
But you still don’t
Screaming in silence
Hopeless situation I’m in
I ran right after you
But you still don’t
I realize it’s bad
But I tell myself things
You watched me today
But you still don’t
Told myself I’d give up
Would you even care
I tried everything
But you still don’t
Where do I go from here?
Do I trade it all away?
You confided in me
But you still don’t
We’re so close, but far apart
Sending obvious messages
I can almost touch you
But you still don’t
A Poem Which I Would Like to Call "Ode to 1/3 of My Muses," But Because of My Deep Fear of Copyright Laws I Will Simply Call it "100/140 of a Sonnet"
Shall I compare thee to an ice cream cone?
Thou art more well-proprotioned throughout thy figure.
Rough crags do coat the average waffle cone,
Yet not your skin could ever be called wafflish.
Sometime all ice-cream cones grow soggy,
And every fair from fair sometime declines.
That line I kept because it is enormously well-written and thought out.
That line is clearly not so well-written.
I think that I have lost my train of thought.
An iguana rides the horse's rubber shoe.
posted by Connor Mills at 11:55 AM0 comments
It was a humid July evening, the hottest of the year. He did not know where he was going at the time, except that it was away. He drove his bike as fast as he could, trying to keep on the road despite the tears that were streaming down his face. Then one of his tears froze to his cheek. At that moment he realized how cold the world was without her. He decided to stop at the side of the road. He quickly wiped his tears, and he observed the most beautiful sunset that man had yet to behold. Unlike anything he had ever seen before, the sky danced in a fury of pink, purple, orange, and yellow hues that shifted instantaneously. The sun was almost below the horizon now. He realized that the sun will rise again tomorrow no matter what happens, and the sun will set again for him. Even in his darkest moment, his confidant the sun revealed its secret. He finally realized his coveted desire: Serenity.
posted by RyanSwanson at 5:55 PM1 comments
Bits of Advice for Next Year's Governor's Students
1. Always, always wear your dorkbadge(also referred to as nametag). If you don't, Mr. Hass will appear out of thin air and catch you, and you will end up on garbage patrol.
2. The people working in the dining center can be either you best friends or your worst enemies. It's better if they're your best friends, since it's not exactly comforting to have your worst enemies making all your food.
4. No matter what they tell you, it is not a good idea to eat six pieces of pizza right before going on a roller coaster at Valley Fair.
5. Do not jump/hop/skip/breathe in the elevators. If you do, they WILL break, and you WILL end up walking up stairs for 3 weeks.
6. Bring lots of air fresheners, because on particularily nice, breezy days the NDSU campus tends to smell like a manure pile, thanks to the genius that decided to put the cattle barns upwind.
7. If you have delicate skin in any way, bring lots of deodorant, because you will not be able to take a shower during your six week stay. This is because the showers are designed specifically to discourage people from taking long showers by spraying hard little pellets that are approximatly 3 degrees below boiling.
8. you guys need to help me with this because I cannot think of any more.
—-posted by Sarah Iverson
The question that will drive you madder than you already are if you aren't there already.
Hark! A box!
What could it's contents be?
A window exists on the inside of the box.
Yet the curtains are drawn on the inside.
There is no lid.
There is no door.
You can only view it's contents if the curtain is drawn from the inside.
What could it's contents be?
The Lemmings are fighting.
Perhaps it is a picture.
A picture of a sunrise.
It promises a new tomorrow.
Perhaps it is a sunset.
Sadness at the closing of an old chapter.
Distress at being alone.
A man is delayed at an airport in the Congo.
Perhaps it is darkness.
Hatred for my ignorance.
Hatred for my understanding.
Perhaps it is light.
It will guide me to peace.
It could show me the way.
White cheese is yellow in the moonlight.
Perhaps it is clothing.
To hide your true self.
To save your true self.
Perhpas it is nothing.
If I show you the contents of my box...
Will you show me those in yours...?
A bear waltzes in Taiwan.
posted by J-dog-N at 5:37 PM0 comments
I don't like titling things.(Flash Fiction #1)
I watched as the girl lifted her chin sky-wards. The look in her eyes told me that she wasn't here. She was privileged enough to detach herself from this world and all of its abominations. She could lose any reason and thought in the unbelievable dimensions of space. Just for this moment, she could watch over the heavens, all humanity, and who knows? the deity? with the Queen Cassiopeia, while Libra and Orion stood on guard. The pupils of her eyes reflected the deepest pools, turning and swirling masses of stars, nebulas, everything seemingly so close to her fingertips; outside of her fairy tale, though these visions were barely more than imagination, billions of light years away. This surrealist piece of the universe wasn't something she could wrap her mind around. "That's out of your grasp, little girl," I told her. She blinked slowly, the dreamlike expression faded from her face, replaced by stone cold white. This girl turned to me, and her eyes slipped from disbelief, to resentfulness, to something I can't describe. What I can say is that this girl didn't believe me. She believed in all that was outside of her reach, believed in nothing real. I could tell, though, that she didn't want to hear what I had to say. I turned, and left her to sink back to the galaxies above, and walked away as her feet left the ground.
posted by BriH at 4:02 PM1 comments
Awake but not seeing
Alive but not breathing
Dead and rotting
Real and bleeding
Yours and hurting
Because of your harsh words
Because of your pride
Because of your hatred
Because of your forgiving
I am and forever will be
A person trapped in your realm
Suffering and crying forever
I am tortured