Oh peanut butter, oh peanut butter
Why must you cause my words to stutter?
When lacking jelly or toast with butter
I long to abandon you for another
And without milk, your flavor stutters
BlockThe words aren't coming
The flow has stopped
The spindle runs thin
The flowers cropped
The letters dropped
Hand on her chest
Wishing she wasn't
Entwined in this mess
The honored guest
To maritial ties
All too late
To bid her goodbyes
StructureI'm not a fan of structured poems, at least
When they're imposed on me, like subtle frames
Of written code which keep each line the same
The trapped voice a bird that yearns for release
Allow the flame to grow, please free the beast
Don't snuff the candle's fickle, frozen flame
Set meter and rhyming, you are to blame
Rendering my creativity deceased
But for you, I'll accept the forms you wish
Consume, swallow words with a grain of salt
My heart, wrapped in paper, I'll give to you
In a stanza, a line, or a swish
Of reason, confining words to a fault
Just don't think you're the only one who knew
Lucid - WIPI'm lying here on a table. Nothing but the sweet hum of machinery, both around and within me. They'd mentioned something beforehand about my hearing. Something about sensitivity that wouldn't hurt in higher decibel ranges.
My hand twitches to touch my new ear, but it remains limp by my side, paralyzed. I think they'd mentioned something about the risk of muscle atrophy in low-gravity environments. Something like that.
I'm hearing my heartbeat now. It's strange to hear such an organic sound in this sterile environment. If I cut myself, would I still bleed red? Or had they replaced my blood with a substitute? Was it still red, or another, foreign color?
With a slight click, a bright light switches itself on from overhead, illuminating the capillaries in my eyelids. Still red...
Squinting, I try to turn my head, but my neck won't obey me. As if reading my though
Ghost of the PastEver been haunted by a ghost of the past? You know, those recurring memories of a time long gone, the ones that float uninvited into your head? Maybe it's triggered by a memento, or a visit to a sacred place, or the mere mention of a name. The moment relives itself in your head, then disappears, leaving you with only a scrap of cloth or a pressed flower to remember.
But what if these ghosts aren't really ghosts at all? What if they're still living, breathing creatures? Maybe you never see them anymore. Maybe you live too far apart. Maybe you see each other on a daily basis, but you both pretend the other no longer exists. Maybe you're enemies, or even friends. Either way, you've both made an unspoken pact to never speak of the moment again. In a vain attempt to smother the memory alive, you flood it with fresh oxygen, fresh consciousness upon which it can feed.
Is it better this way?
PerfectionistsA writer in a group of artists
Is hardly a place to fit in
In a glance, one can admire a picture
But writing takes much longer to sink in
We've all learned our native language
But not all have picked up a pen
Yet sketching is somehow extraordinary
Simply because not everyone can
We can both stare at a vase for hours
Yet come up with an empty slate
And our details of realization
Rarely come sooner, but late
For despite our apparent differences
Our goal is the same: to learn
And only by way of practice
Can this mastery of skill be earned
LifewishA mourning dove hobbled across the road
And I wondered, "Why didn't it fly?"
Does the pleasure of crossing the pavement by foot
Outweigh the risks if it should die?
Maybe the bird remains ignorant
That a passing car could lead to his demise
Unsure of the dangers in the world of man
With no sense of fear in his eyes
Or perhaps he is simply cocky
As he struts across the road in pride
Knowing all vehicles will stop their procession
In order to let him pass by
But I, for one, think he enjoys it
In the way a human walks instead of drives
So the next time you see a bird walking
Maybe you should be the one he walks beside
ScrapVersion 2.0 is ready
The beta is complete
Its release date is tomorrow
And I've heard it will be l33t
This one's fully moddable
No need to deal with flaws
And it's piracy-protected
So you can't break the law
The calendar is built-in
You'll remember all your dates
And the autopilot feature
Will ensure you won't be late
It's compatible with everything
The computer, the tv, the phone
And it'll download all your contacts
So you'll never feel alone
But if you choose not to upgrade
You'll be alienated, at best
Your communication will be archaic
And your accuracy, second-guessed
This isn't really an option
Conform now, or be scrapped
Humanity is overrated
Believe me, the entire brain's been mapped
We've discovered all your problems
And fixed them, one by one
Even those pesky emotions
We've sparked the revolution
NephelaeToday is a sad day.
Why is the sun shining?
I thought the sky was supposed to reflect emotion
Like a heaven-mirror
Answering the prayers of the living
In the form of precipitation
Are the clouds our gods now?
They are notably absent
In this clear sky
An expanse filled with light
Once upon a forum dreary, while I browsed weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious post of forgotten forum lore,
While I flicked through hotlinks clicked suddenly there came a barking,
As if someone were posting, gently posting on page four.
'Tis a roleplay', I muttered, 'posting there on page four-
Only that and nothing more.'
Oh how it buzzed my lone computer, connected there via the router,
It thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating, of my heart I stood repeating,
'Tis a roleplay taking place on this thread's page four-
Some late roleplay taking place on this thread's page four-
That it is, and nothing more.'
Presently my will grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
'Sirs' said I, 'or by chance madam, your forgiveness I implore'
But the fact is I was browsing, and your posts they had me rousing,
Though so faintly you came playing, roleplaying on page four,
That I barely thought I saw you.' Here
A Dragon ChristmasSmall dragons in the Christmas tree!
Grab your presents, quickly flee!
Ignore the squeaks, the snarls, the snapping!
Pry their claws from off the wrapping!
Warn the neighbors breathlessly!
Small dragons in the Christmas tree!
Little dragons in your stocking!
Crawling, brawling, biting, squawking!
All the candy canes are gone!
Tinsel strewn about the lawn!
Table toppled, shredded silk.
Cookies stolen, splattered milk!
Dragons in the chimney flue!
Dropping down to growl at you!
Nets and traps, an ambush set.
Tripwire and a waiting net!
Eager claws spread wide for booty!
Warn St. Nick! Who's got THAT duty?
Dragons going through the drawers,
Dragging presents cross the floors!
Candles lit by spurting flames!
Advent pictures ripped from frames!
Eggnog spills, a toffee smudge
Dragon footprints in the fudge!
Noise has stopped. It has gone quiet.
Plundered pantry! New Year's Diet?
Not an ornament was saved.
It appears the cat was shaved.
Dragons gone--inform the nation!
The Best LiarYou're such a wonderful liar, my dear
It's funny to watch you perform
I draw up a chair, and laugh at you there
The most arrogant fool ever born
You're such an incredible jerk, my dear
I still can't believe that it's true
You swagger about; plastic face in a pout
But your hatred is falling right through
You're such a beautiful cheater, my dear
So shake out that card from your sleeve
You whisper and curse, but you are the worse
At loving a woman like me
You're the best, most wonderful liar, my love
And I'll scream it to all of your friends
'Cause all of these lies and dim-witted replies
Will tear you back down in the end