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Newest
ITTPIAMPCin a flurry of gesticulated motions gravity is explained with terminal velocity the class levels out to throw things into space Mrs. Brown Mrs. Brown! we need help over here now why would you do a thing like that? an object in motion stays in motion usually you're a projectile off "THE CLIFF" if you've been troublesome like Mrs. Little who usually gets the axe and then it's coffee time and Mythbusters so all is well and significant digits.ITTPIAMPC
by ~paperAstronaut
A Sporatic Daywe've gone through this before the same stupid argument just agree with me for once and say i have bad handwriting! Please and thanks very much.A Sporatic Day
so silly of us to say that it was going to be easy! we dashed right on through that did we need bread? i can't read the list anyhow because i wrote it, i bet.
hey, how are ya? i've been good. finish that quilt yet? no, i haven't either. it sits in my closet collecting dust.
charmed the socks of 'em, we did!
great job, it'll all be good. good night! to myself,
by ~paperAstronaut
The Slow Continuumwhy a monologue? so tedious and tiring narcissism at it's best abhor the monotonous tone but heed the wordsThe Slow Continuum
written between the lines
it's a slow class of hominds peeling through with such pace go on, go slower people with no face
music thrums
a rythmic beat of hearts
that mimick the drum
or does the drum mimick the hearts?
shadows echoing shadows lighter spatters of dark the macabre depths of the mind ticking carefully through sludge the slow continuum of speech.
by ~paperAstronaut
Paean of an American OphanPaean of an American OrphanPaean of an American Ophan
Dark, heavy mist rolled off the beach from the lake, the sky rumbling angrily above the city. The roiling clouds were a boiling stark shade of black against the fading sunset. I instinctively shivered, digging my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. The air seemed too crackled with the built-up energy of the storm. Time to run home before the storm hit, I decided. I sprinted down the rest of Lakeshore Drive until I reached Navy Pier, detouring onto East Illinois Street until I hit Michigan Avenue, following it to the first bridge. I planned to follow the Chicago River home. From
by ~paperAstronaut
Favourites
What am I?... no.1Glistening silver buttons and knobs, lenses and dials that shine. Apertures are dotted here and there for cables that are non-existent. Letters and names shine the same shade as all those clicky things an thus midnight and silver colors are everywhere, everywhere except for the red button in the bottom right-hand corner. A checkered plastic stands by the lens, ready to illuminate the darkest corners of my view. And never can I forget the plain white tag on the bottom that shows a number in plain black text, giving it a cipher where there should not be one. Shouldn’t be for it makes it just another like many others which it will never be.What am I?... no.1
by ~darkimmortallvr
uncomprehendableThose long arms wrapped around me And theres a feeling of warmth. A faint breeze swifts by Rustling up those old thoughts and carrying them into my head, Quick! They shoot around inside my minduncomprehendable
As if it were a pinball game. I gasp at that, And coolly back away. I have layed only the slightest touch over your welcoming embrace. As your head now lifts off of my shoulders (and my thoughts have settled) I only wonder what game was inside your head.
by ~jenn520
The Eyes of a Photograph I thought I was cold. I could certainly feel the shiver that glided down the small of my back and made my spine arch and my hands automatically move to my arms to rub them. I could certainly see the tiny lumps forming unclear patterns up and down my arms and legs, each hair standing on end. And yet I was sweating. I was so warm I wanted to run outside into the bitter winter wonderland and embrace the frosted snow that hid the ground from view. I wanted to make a snow angel with my arms and legs, laughing like the child I used to be. I wanted to jump out of a hot air balloon just to feel the exhilarating rush of cool air sweeThe Eyes of a Photograph
by ~skybluefeeling
Beyond BeliefTheres no reason to explain, How the angel earned the devils name. A secret that can never be told, More than an eternity old.Beyond Belief
Something our ears have never heard, Like the beautiful lullaby of a lost bird. The answer hidden and shrouded in mystery, Lying deep in the archives of ancient history.
Protected from prying eyes, Surrounded by a web of lies. Herein lies the blame, As to why we do not know how the angel earned the devils name.
by ~How-Avant-Garde
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Bring tears to my eyes
Let me fly like the birds
Read my poems
Feel my words
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Who is but the function of what, and what I am is but a man in a mask.
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she talks to rainbows ♥
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"we two alone will sing like birds,
-so we'll live and pray and sing
and tell old tales and
laugh at gilded butterflies."
✰
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Who is but the function of what, and what I am is but a man in a mask.
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"I may be love's bitch, but at least I'M man enough to admit it." --Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
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Who is but the function of what, and what I am is but a man in a mask.
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