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Journal of Darkness: Assassin and Deceptress


Nov 21, 2011, 8:17:32 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




(description of storyline: all characters in this work are dragons, with the ability to change into a human form. they live in present day society, but have a base in the middle of the desert. there is a library with the history of the world, which is operated by stacra, an organization to preserve the peace in the world. there is a rival organization, the dracra, who wish to take it over. the dracra is led by a dragon named Darkheart, a dragon who has haunted the Scar line for millenia.)
"... sahsa...."
what was that mumbled sasha, a small town girl in modern day USA. she was nearly asleep when the voice called to her.
sasha was usually described as a freak. she was a dragon fanatic, and she carried her favorite books wherever she went, Brink of Insanity: journal of the Wild and the Broken; and its companion, Blood curse:  journal of the Destroyer and the Savage. they told of dragons living in new york who had to bear a family curse and sought a way to release it. the author was only known as "Lucian".
"....sasha...."
i'm sure i heard it that time...
"....come to me sasha...."
she didnt know why but she felt as if she absolutely had to find the source. she was barely clothed but quietly snuck out, leaving small footprints in the snow.
"....sasha!...."
she felt panicked. as the voice grew louder so did her heart, beating quickly in her ears. some sort of animal instinct took over and she somehow Managed to run on all fours. her whole body began tingling, her skin writhing. she looked back and nearly choked: wings and a tail... had grown from her body. her whole body turned white as scales etched their way into life over her skin. her body began elongating and enlarging, becoming streamlined and lizardlike. she was transforming...
"...yes!... just as you said, master...."
"...quiet, kovu..."
sashas vision went dark as she stumbled, barrelling through the snow. when she looked up, she saw an enormous dragon, with scars just like the ones in her book. "she will be a fine student."
sasha was dumbfounded as she saw her parents walk up behind them. "greetings, master Lucian, kovu." said her father.
"and you, rydon."
"y-you...know...?" stammered sasha.
"all will be explained in the morning, sasha," replied her mother.
sasha felt tired and her eyes shut as the ground came up to meet her.
sasha sat alone at the picnic table, surrounded by lucian, her father rydon, her mother sophia, and kovu. "so... you're all.... dragons.... like in my books..." she gestured to the two books.
lucian stepped forward and placed a hand on the books. his hand glowed and the glossy books turned to worn, leather journals. "yes, we are dragons. sasha. and you have done well guarding my journals."
"your... journals? but i thought that these were best-selling novels..."
lucian chuckled, "no no. young one, there are only two other copies of each of these in existence."
"wow..."
her father spoke up now, "so what are you here for, master? is it time for her to leave us?"
"leave?! what do you mean leave?!"
rydon looked worriedly at lucian and then at sasha,"you are dragon, and it is tradition for you to be trained."
"but what if i dont want to leave?!"
her father began to become angry,"its not your choice!"
"then whose-"
lucian's eyes glowed red in anger, "rydon, haven't you taught your daughter respect? surely you would know of my ways by now."
rydon nodded, "i- i'm sorry, master. i don't know whats come over her."
sasha ran, shifting to her new dragon form and flying away. darkheart had warned her of this, that lucian was a dictatoria leader. she asked herself, "why had her father taken his side? why did this have to happen so suddenly? and most of all, what was she going to do next?"
darkheart had given her directions to meet her after lucian made contact. sasha flew, tired as she was not used to the extra limbs.
once she reached the spot that darkheart had told her, she waited and thought things through.
once darkheart arrived, she spoke, "i want to join you. i beleive everything you've said."
darkheart chuckled, "i knew you would dear girl, lucian is the same as his grandfather, they both hounded me and tortured me, for their own twisted ways. i've tried to keep as many as possible from falling into their cluthces. i wasn't able to **** scarheart, as he captured me and forced me into his own body as an energy slave. he tortured me even there, and after he died, lucian, his grandson, got me. he too tortured me."
sasha looked at her in sock, "thats terrible. i didnt know..."
"you couldnt have, darling. those evil dragons keep everything from those who should know."
sasha stood, "i want to be trained. by you."
"really? i warn you, it is quite tough. not all survive. you must be willing to do whatever it takes to stop those vile dragons."
*     *     * 3 years later
sasha was 20 years old, and it was time for her to take on her first big mission: infiltrate lucian's schol and learn everything she could.
sasha had already talked to lucian, apologizing for her behavior so long ago. lucian had seemed hesitant but allowed her in. foolish old bat. she thought. she had been at the compund for a year and a half now and had become familiar with their ways.  sasha would often wonder why she was doing this, and she remembered, darkheart had said that lucian killed sashs's father. she always looked at him with scorn and wished to **** him. but she restrained herself and kept on the facade.
today she felt especially hating towards every master she came in contact with. she passed tsai, lucian's right hand dragon, as he went to talk with the master. she tried to eavesdrop but they were speaking in an ancient, coded language. she growled and her white scales flashed in the sun.


"Lucian, somethings not right about that youngling sasha... she's always watching us, like she's gathering information."
"yes, tsai, i know. i know exactly what she is."
"what?" tsai looked skeptical.
"she's an agent, an informant. for darkheart."
tsai stared, incredulous."wha?! how do you know?!"
"ive been under the influence of darkheart before, as have you. something about sasha is of darkheart's doing."
tsai nodded "even still, is she possessed by her or under orders?"
lucian thought for a moment "i beleive under orders..."
both stared as lucian's son, kovu, walked up to sasha.
*       *        
"sasha! hi!" kovu had taken a liking to sasha since his father took her as an apprentice.
"oh, um. hi. kovu..." *i cant let my emotions get in the way of my mission!
"how have you been?" sasha felt herself blush under the gaze of the drake. he wasnt half-bad to look at, and she often caught herself watching him.
"i'm doing great, training with tsai is always fun. what about you and master lucian?"
her eyes darted to her master, her target, then back at kovu. "you mean you're... dad?"
"yeah... my dad... but we students can only call them by their designation. even master scaleweaver calls some elders master."
sasha's ears pricked up as she heard scaleweaver's name. she was assigned to gather information on all of the masters. i must make madame darkheart proud... i am worthy... she must see that...
"is... something wrong, sasha?"
she caught herself, "n-no i'm just tired is all... just tired..."
her master lucian came toward her what a fool, he doesnt even know about me... "sasha, i need to speak with you.... alone."
kovu difpped his head and backed away respectfully.
"sasha, come."
she swallowed her pride and said, "yes... master..." and followed him.
once they were outside, lucian turned to her and said, "i know, sasha. i know that darkheart sent u here to gather information on us."
sasha's eyes widened and her mouth dropped. she thought hard how?! how does he know?! this cant be possible....
"i-i dont know what youre talking about, master..."
lucian turned on her with a peircing gaze, and made her wince as he studied her. "there are better ways to lie, youngling... but not to me. ive known for quite some time now."
sasha felt her legs give out beneath her. she sat, looking into the dust, listening incredulously at lucian. "how... how do you know?!?!"
sasha ran forward, clawing at lucian's throat. she was instantly frozen in place, an immensely strong spell holding her legs in place.  "let me go, lucian!"
"its master to you, youngling. and why would i let you go? you just tried to **** me." sasha struggled helplessly against her bonds. she saw lucian mutter something and felt her legs grow suddenly cold. she looked and gasped as ice started to creep up her haunches.
"lucia-master, please let me go... i was only under orders."
lucian chuckled, "how did darkheart get to you?"
"i can't tell you..."
"oh? then let me guess; theres another informant, a higher up in stacra, who told darkheart about you and she arrived, possibly a week before us? she fed you a story of stacra destroying the world and trying to take over the one that they created. she told you that she was only trying to help restore order. am i close?"
sasha felt naked under the gaze of the elder, who saw straight through her act and through her commander's plan. it made her heart quicken and her scales writhe. she felt a sharp pain as the ice crept up and chilled her thighs, creeping steadily upwards. "how... how can you know these things?! darkheart said you wouldnt be able to know... she said that you held her prisoner... that you tortured her... she said that you- you killed my father."
lucian shook his head and wiped something from his face, revealing gruesome scars. "she altered her face to look like mine... look, and know the truth." he placed a claw on her forehead and she gasped as a flood of memories flooded her, darkheart inside lucian's mind, taking over him, taunting him, and forcing him to do terrible things. she heard lucian say, "she tortured me, she held me captive. its true that stacra destroyed the world, but look also;" she saw the corrupt government of old, and their wretched attrocities. "they brought about their own destruction. we created the world you know, but dont wish it to be taken over, we merely want peace...We act as peacekeepers. darkheart seeks to enslave all to do her bidding. and your father died at darkheart's talons, not mine." sasha saw a gruesome scene as lucian tried to save her father.
she felt him withdraw, and felt the magic and ice withdraw from her, the ice's touch fading from her ****. she shivered and crouched low, warming her body.
"sasha, darkheart is a liar... she's been at it for thousands of years." he watched her shiver and said. "come, sit around the fire."
sasha noddded and followed close behind lucian, hiding her vulnerable state.
"i'm sorry, master."
"all will be okay, sasha... all will be fine.."
lucian brought sasha into his study under his wing. he had her sit down in front of the fire and draped a blanket over her. he sat down behind her, looking over the latest reports, waiting for her to speak. after a few minutes she sighed and looked back at lucian, tears forming in her eyes. "is everything you said true? Is darkheart nothing but a deceptionist?"
lucian looked up at her and nodded. "all of it was true. I'm sorry, sasha. darkheart is a gifted deceptionist and many of us have fallen for her tricks.  including me."
sasha turned back and looked into the fire with sad eyes, tears rolling down her cheek. she shuddered and took a shaky breath. lucian came up beside her and placed a comforting paw on her shoulder.
"darkheart forced me to **** my best friend... a she-drake named Clia... in front of her other followers to show that we must be able to turn on anyone to fulfill the mission..."
lucian nodded, "so I had heard... darkheart has become more cruel than ever."
"l-lucian, what can i do to make her pay?"
lucian thought for a while and then shook his head. "let me think more on this, sasha. for now, let no one know that you are an affiliate of darkheart, it could have deadly consequence. you may remain in here if you wish, or you may return to your own quarters. i have some things to attend to."
sasha nodded to him and gasped as everything went still and dimmed, even the fire seemed grey and frozen.
"wha-"
"sasha... you must tell me now, will you work with me?"
she was stunned. "where are you? what do you mean?"
"you want to get back at her, i know how to. but you must tell me if you will work with me."
"i-i will, lucian. but whhy ask now, and in this way?"
"because, there is someone here, that is going to try to **** you. he was listening to us and is going to attack you with magic. ive cast a spell that will give an apearance of death. just let the magic do its stuff and u'll do fine">
"but wait!"
"you must trust me, sasha."
all of a sudden, everything went back to normal, and lucian was gone, she could hear his fading footsteps.
what was that abou- wait! the killer... she kept facing the fire and listened as she had been taught to the clawsteps of the incoming dragon.
"is it true? you're one of them?!"
sasha turned and gasped, flashing him a shocked, innocent look over her shoulder. "what are you talking about, kovu?"
he was angry, and she was struck with fear. "i overheard you and lucian talking. i heard everything."
sasha turned to face him."y-you, heard everything..."
"then you are one of them! i cant beleive it... i cant beleive i trusted you."
kovu stepped forward and sasha's eyes shifted, trying to find a way out. "kovu, i- i can explain."
"you're nothing but a trickster, a deceptress! dont try to talk me out of this."
her heartbeat quickened, stricken with dread. "out of... out of what, kovu?"
he said nothing but uttered the death spell.
*      *    
sasha let herself go, remembering lucian's spell. but as she did so, she thought about why she was doing this. *to make darkheart suffer...
she heard lucian in her mind. "you'll be going to death-sleep for a while, a few days to make it beleivable. now sleep, sasha... sleep and i will awaken you soon."
"o-okay, master lucian..."
"there is no need to call me master anymore, sasha. from now on, you no longer exist. which is why darkheart will never see you coming. its time... dont worry."
the death-sleep overcame her and she fell to darkness.
*   * *
lucian ran downstairs and saw kovu standing over sasha's body. he put on a facade of dread and said, "kovu.... what have you done?!"
kovu looked at lucian angrily. "you were going to harbor a killer... i took care of the problem."
lucian became angry now, "no, you made more problems. you didnt think... you didnt listen. she was willing to help."
kovu snarled at lucian, "i did what needed to be done. I killed her for you, father."
lucian responded quietly, "you killed a helpless dragoness in cold blood. i have no choice but to arrest you for ******, my son." he muttered a binding spell and blocked kovu's magic. he watched kovu struggle for a moment then went to pick up sasha's seemingly lifeless body. he contacted her mentally, saying, "i'm taking your body in to the infirmary, i'll oversee your examination. in 2 days, i will wake you, when i do, be very quiet."
"yes, sir."
sasha's new appearance was stunning, quite different from the black color of her original scales, she now looked like each scale was a glittering saphire, and her horns and underside were now a shimmering silver. sasha was astonished by what lucian had done, he had also changed her voice and form, making her more slender and agile, he altered her voice in such a way that it seemed that she could charm the heart out of a rock. even lucian who had a mate of his own had to keep himself composed. but he was undoubtedly pleased that things were turning out well. lucian had to change everything about her, her eyes now a deep green, her draconic fingerprint being her tail-tip and spine, were changed to furry mane and a slender diamond tip.
she looked at herself in amirror and remarked how mature she looked.
"you may have to be put in certain situations which may have you exploit some... erm... feminine charms."
"so i'll have to...."
"only if you let it go that far. it depends on you. you said that you'd  do anything to get back at darkheart. these matters are up to your own discretion."
she thought long about this. "i want to g
this is a book i'm still writing.
jeffrey conyers Dec 2013
Rules, policies and conflicts imprison you.
Protest and righteousness freed you.
In America, we called it segregation.

Twisted words of countries like South Africa called it Apartheid.
Separation of the races accepted as legal at a certain time.

What about injustice that makes ANY race feels correct?
But like that old saying goes, things changes with time.
Which Nelson Mandela you eventually saw within your life time.

It's always those that faced the harshness of trouble that's the most forgiving.
And many of times, it's the innocent prisoner.

You led.
While holding onto no grudge.
You stood strong against those that refused to change.
In America that's still a familiar ring.

Ghandi, King and others fought with words.
Similar to the qualities and traits of our Lord Jesus.

It's always the peacekeepers that showcase the hate.
While the supporters of wars stay quiet silently supporting the crime.

So, so long Nelson.
God's waiting for your soul.
You serve your purpose.
You serve your goal.

Nelson Mandela, son of the motherland.
You will always be remember, as a good man.
Nyx Oct 2018
I watched it all happened
I watched it all burn down
And yet I stood there watching
Without uttering a single sound

I knew all their secrests
I knew all their lies
I knew the real stories
All from each side

Trusted by all
They told me all things
But I stood there in silence
As they played a game of kings

Doing nothing at all
Even though i held the power
I just let them fall
Withering like a flower

Times have moved on
They are all no longer friends
I'm the last connection
There is no chance they will make amends

People fall apart
All rundown to different ends
Hatred and recentment burns
Though cast away by the winds

I see them all now
And even I've lost that spark
The one I once held
When the whole world seemed dark

As I stand upon the ashes
Of the loving people I once knew
That time gone and forgotten now
The very thought to which is taboo

Yet here I stand
At what was the foundation of the past
Holding the matchbox in hand
Crying, I thought it would last

I did nothing to stop it
I myself set it ablaze
So much for the peacekeeper
all she could do was gaze

And try and act innocent
Attempting not to get burnt
You would think after such tragedy
That I would have learnt

But its a burden I'll carry
Right down to my grave
Knowing I destroyed them
When they could have been saved

I let them burn
What kind of a monster does that?
*******...

I'm Guilty


~
Christine Ueri Feb 2015
A pair of crows streaks the skyline. I watch their graceful flight above bare treetops, concrete, and steel constructions, on a backdrop of exhaust fumes.

One crow alights after the other; their claws grip the bars of the signal tower a few feet away from where I wait for the next bus home. I wonder if they built their nest on that giant, manmade constellation of angles . . . From there they would have an exceptional view of the surrounding area, and few predators would dare to go up there.

"I found a dead crow, tangled in a wrought iron gate, once." His voice taps inside the nerve hollows of my mind, and I am unsure if the loud, clicking noises coming from the crows, and the perfectly synchronised squeaking of the bus' brakes, amplify or dampen his tone.

The bus driver greets with his usual, "Hello, Sweetie." I want him to be the bus driver, instead. He would never be late, he said. He wouldn't make me wait for what sometimes seems like an eternity. I mumble an almost-civil reply, biting back tears as I stumble forward against the pull of the engine to flop down on the nearest seat. I avoid eye contact with the other commuters; my gaze fixed to their reflections on the windowpane -- doppelgängers obscuring my vision -- a zeitgeist of movements . . . "Don't look at the window, look through it, silly . . . and don't miss me, I am just far away . . ." I always miss him more when he says that.

The coral trees are in full bloom, adding robust warmth to the faint copper glow of the winter sunset. Are their flowers the same vermilion colour as the 'fire tree' in his garden? Above the coral trees, I spot a pair of magnificent wings: a sacred ibis . . .

Fly south with me, Sacred Ibis. You are a goddess. White wings, neatly trimmed with a pearly black hem . . . when will you come down again, so I can show him what Isis really looks like? I won't be able to capture your image in flight, although he would love to see you like this -- spread-eagle . . .

The Ibis remains within view until we reach the nature reserve at the foot of the mountain. Here, the road forks into choices; I have but one -- keep left. The driver has a heavy foot and the next stop is mine. I get up from my seat and stumble down the narrow aisle towards the nearest exit, my hand tightening around a canary-yellow handlebar as I brace myself for the ****.

The hydraulic hiss of the opened doors spit at my heels. I leap from the bus, onto the pavement; my feet meet the concrete -- a long, silver-grey slab, slapped onto dry, red clay -- with a thud, dust settles on my coat in a whirlwind of the bus' departure.

Pigeons. Too many to count. They line the flat roofs of smog-stained, one- and two-storey buildings. Could they be soldiers? "No, my Love. Doves and pigeons are peacekeepers . . . and there is war in the Gaza Strip . . ." Yes, but what about the buildings? I walk on, thinking about the mourning dove he nursed; the one that followed his smoke rings . . .

We found an abandoned laughing dove squab last summer -- he, or she, made it. Sam was hand-reared, survived, and flew away on one of those bright summer's afternoons . . .

At the corner, I wait for the dust to settle further and the traffic light to turn green -- there are always those who don't need saving.

Turn right.

The Chinese maples are bare. Their deep-red autumn leaves have returned to the earth for redemption.

An Egyptian goose honks, calling his mate from the top of the church tower on the other side of the road. Perhaps, after so many chance encounters, he recognises me while he spreads his wings, flapping them slowly, without rising from his position, in what I imagine is a display of empathy.

I notice that I'm standing on the same patch of lawn where I found the barn owl's feather, months ago. Owl feathers ought to be kept in the dark, away from the day birds'. . . In the distance; I see the grove of pagoda trees that lead the way home -- beacons, providers and protectors. I follow. 

An assortment of feathers, haphazardly stuck into the wooden frame of the French doors, welcomes us home; fragments of unlocking and entering are placed on the dining table where we do everything.

Textbooks, dictionaries, software manuals, bird guides, the salt- and peppershakers -- guano has lost its value; it's all pink, organic Himalayan crystal salt, now. My children's empty cereal bowls were left on the table in the morning rush; they remind me of the years we have to catch up to -- I dissolve gunpowder pillulets under my tongue: Homeopathic medicine for this virus.

Balance -- like the flamingo, or the blue crane in the bird-guide-photos. On one leg, I reach for the light switch . . .

He glows in the weak ambiance -- electric bulbs cast a sepia vignette that invokes the scent of burning rose petals -- something akin to the gestalt of Rama, or a Buddha in blue . . .

Supper is a bland affair; I think of the Krishna temple I haven't visited in over a decade. How do they do it? Serve such exquisite meals on donations (feed the masses and the masses will feed you) . . .

Dishwater drips from my hands and runs down the inside of my arms as I absent-mindedly reach for the crow's feather, hidden in between the wrought iron candleholders on top of the grocery cupboard -- a gift or a donation?
 
I have donated my life to causes and movements, as a bird gifts its feathers to the earth, and to feather collectors, but will it be enough to sustain our future?

 

Aug/Sept 2014
Aug/Sept 2014
Emily Pancoast Oct 2012
In North Carolina I put on my mother’s wedding dress
passed down for four generations
my great-grandmother wore these pearls
now I walk down a petal-littered aisle
to wed the boy whose mother I call ‘Aunt’
Mother sheds only a joyful tear because he is a man and I am a woman

My university demolished a solid stadium
built a new concrete giant in its place
in the middle of a field where we used to lay and watch stars,
where we used to chase each other when it got warm outside
Meanwhile the arts buildings sink further into the ground, forgotten ruins

My grandmother wages war against ink on skin
and offensive words in books
we can’t burn them anymore
but we will lock them out of our libraries
so that the children cannot be corrupted

Old men picket outside free clinics,
demanding that wombs be held sacred
while the children they would save would starve in the streets
and then be sent to battlefields so we can call ourselves peacekeepers

Teachers and students alike label each other with permanent marker
all the while teaching tolerance
and having multi-cultural food day in elementary classrooms

The young run so fast toward the future
filled with shiny new iGadgets
equipped to tear apart the beliefs we thought we held dear
Alice Burns Aug 2013
I realized one of the peacekeepers tonight
And, as always, I spoke honestly
But against tendency, I was specific
-Maybe it was the drunken haze, but the vision had so much clarity

I spoke words to him, that formed without thought, nor doubt of mind
And when these naturals were vocalized, there was no need to speak uncertainty of that what was said
- in fact, these words, alike these at the making of my fingertips
Felt as though their mortality through speech or visibility, gave them truth that me or my subconscious could question.

This drunken conversation that was in obedience to circumstances
Was extreme and unnaturally passionate
Yet, disorbedient to sobriety, was fluid and understanding
I feel now, possibly to be regretted in the morning, completely confident in the impact made

He is good- as good as he is a keeper of peace
And my words spoken, although never able to be retold in accuracy
Affected me as much as I, possibly am mistaken to believe, he was to be
But here, in this poetic security, I wish to share them

He is a peace keeper, I am sure
As we conversed I looked to the greenery around us and they showed no warnings
Their leaves , as they do in sunlight and rain, continued to show love without worry
And that love, I felt strong, and thanked as it kept my speech strong

I asked- or even in my possible dillusion  of high spiritedness, commanded, this man
In all the goodness that I possess and could show
To pass his negativity to my mound
As I do to all that seek peace rather than create it

You don't need to fight in this battle, my friends
For your role, is one much needed when the time comes
So save your fight, and save that energy
For your light is strong, and crucial for darker times to come

Should this message, this realization raise alarm
And the puppeteers ask of you those sins frequently ask,
Don't worry, don't hesitate, don't fight against their orders
Just breathe, sigh even, and act as you always have

I see your hearts
I feel that love long forgotten
The fact that you don't want to obey is in fact in our favor
Because we all know, deceit is their favorite game

But this deceit is the beginning of their downfall
As your want to avoid passing me the negativity, will unnaturally cause them to cast it in rebellion
But I am strong, and my strength is yet to show
I have your back, because I know you will soon have mine.
Thomas clark Mar 2016
A sword can cut and slash and ****
A pen can spew an inken spill

You wield your sword
To win a war
My pen writes peace treaties
By the score

The sword and the pen
Met on the battlefield
The sword was so much stronger
But the pen just would not yield

The sword swung first
The pen retracted
The sword flew past the nib
The pen quickly counter acted

The pen drew a tree
The sword stuck in the bark
Then the pen drew a forge
And drew a flame and a spark

He popped the sword in
And melted it down
Then drew a Parker pen mould
and an army was found

An army of pens
To rule the land
To fit snugly
In a peacekeepers hand
Big Virge Jul 2015
Why do people do ... ?
The things ... that they do ... ?!?
  
It's ...
Funny ... to me ... !!!
  
Is it ...
Funny ... to you ... ???
  
NOT ... !!!!! ...
Funny ... Ha Ha ... !!!!!
  
..... " Funny " ......
with ... NO LAUGHS ... !!!!!!
  
When people ... Do Things ...
That ... BREAK ... Peoples' Hearts ... !!!
  
Like Men ... BEATING Wives ... !!!!
Or .... Girls who .... "Connive" ....
  
See .....
These ... Are The People ... !!!
who lives are ... Contrived ... !!!
  
So ...
Why do they do it ... !?!
Their actions are ... STUPID ... !!!!
  
They Think ... they're ...
Sooooooo ... SMART ... !!!!
  
But ...
What's in their ... Heart ... ???
  
A vision of ... TRUTH ...
or a life of ... PURE FARCE ... !!!!!
  
I'm writing ... This Piece ...
cos' of ... something I Saw ... !!
  
A fight on ... my street ...
but hey ... What was the score ... ?!?
  
I'm just at home ... cooling ...
Watching ....  " Channel Four " ....
  
but ...
Next thing you know ...
I'm out the front door ... !!!
  
I hear a girl ... CRY ... !!!
Then see ... a white guy
who CLEARLY ... was ... FUMING ... !!!!!
  
I asked myself ... " Why " ... ???
  
Next thing you know ...
I hear a glass ... SMASH ... !!!
  
The girl ... and her child ...
were making a ... DASH ... !!!!!!!!
  
The White Guy ...
Still SHOUTING ... !!!!!
  
Picked up ... A BILLBOARD ... !!!!!!!!!!
  
and then tried to ... RAM IT ...
Right Through The ... Pub Door ... !!!!!
  
I figured ... " Maybe " ... ?
I should make a ... " Call " ...
  
But ...
This is the ... " Story " ...
of what I then ... SAW ... !!!!!
  
A pair of police ...
pulled up on the street ...
and grabbed the white guy ...
Like Butchers ... GRAB MEAT ... !!!!!
  
The white guy ... Complained ... !!!
and still wasn't ... " tame " ... !!!
  
and this is where ... " NUMBERS " ...
then entered  .... " The Game " ....
  
Next thing you know ...
NOT ... ONE Car or ... TWO ...
  
But ...
  
VAN Upon VAN ...
of ... MORE POLICEMAN ... !!!!!
  
The way they were coming ....
had people like ... Damnnnnnnnn ... !!!!!!!!
  
It took .....
SEVEN ... of them ... !!!!!
to control this ... ONE MAN ... ?!?
  
The rest of them ...
STOOD THERE ...
Just like a ... " Street Gang " ...
  
I took one ... " Aside " ...
  
and said ...
  
"Listen man, why ?
So many of you,
to restrain, this one guy ?"
  
He said,
  
"A one on one struggle
could leave someone hurt !"
  
I then bit my tongue ...
  
But thought ....

( SHUT UP, You Berk !!! )
  
But then ... one of them ...
Tried to ... Argue with me ... !!!
  
I said ....
  
"Look at your wagons,
just blocking my street !
It's simply, excessive !
Don't argue with me !
On my Thursday Night,
I don't want to see !
My road blocked with cars
cos' of, STUPID POLICE !
Your actions, as usual,
aren't necessary !"
  
Now I know they're ...
... " Peacekeepers " ...
  
But Hey ...
  
What's with police ... ???
  
In Fact ......
You know ... WHAT ... !!!
  
... The Police ... !!!!! ...
  
SEE ....
  
Why do they do it ?
Treat People like ... MEAT ... !!?!!
  
They are a ... " Factor "
in ... VIOLENT STREETS ... !!!
  
Don'y You ... all agree ... ???
  
Well ... whether you do ...
Let's make this ... COMPLETE ... !!!
  
What about people ...
Who do .... " Poetry " .... ?!?
  
I've been quite ... AMAZED ... !!!
by the number who ... " Teach " ...
  
and then ... get on the stage ...
with ... NONSENSE RIDDEN SPEECH ... !!!!!
  
I Fear ... for our children ... !!!!!
If ... people who teach ...
write poetry suited ...
  
For .... " ADULT TV " ....
Expletives in poems
and ... " Vulgarity " ... !!!!!
  
YES ... I use it TOO ... !!!!!
  
But i'm ...
  
NOT PAID ... to teach ... !!!
  
It seem that ... " Some Teachers " ...
NEED ..... " Dictionaries " ......
  
Now .....
You may not agree ... !!!
  
But ...
How would you feel ... ?
  
If your child was ... " Reliant " ...
on people who ... " Read " ...
  
Poetry written ...
About A ... " Barbie " ... !?!
  
These are ... The People ...
who think they can ... " Teach " ... ?!?
  
No wonder our children ...
are now ... " Human Sheep " ... !!!!!
  
My Wordplay's .....
More ............. " Lucid " ............ !!!
  
But ...
Many take ... " Pride " ...
In Proving They're ... STUPID ... ?!?
  
So here's my ...
LAST Question ...
  
" Why Do People ... Do It ... ??? "
The police story is an account of REAL EVENTS, from a time where I lived next to a pub in Ealing, West London, once know as The Grosvenor, and the police, due to 7/7 were coming en masse like thugs , to most calls to them at that time .....
Grace Nottingham Feb 2014
"New Plymouth"  

I
I, as a young woman, stand still
Like a ghost column in a Mausoleum  
Adjacent to the New Plymouth spit.  

I breathe in the invisible sugars of salt
And the stubborn incoherences
Of the sea washing green over layette white.  

The rocks are blunt teeth,
Fat and round like an old Frisco seal,
A Cerberus jaw barring me off

From fatal self-destruction.
What a laugh!
These flippants, these peacekeepers  

Have no idea, nor do
The gargantuan ships,
Walking on water like Jesus' feet.  

The sky is so pure and clean  
it's sectile, no clouds  
nor disturbances to be inhaled.  

II  
  

I hang like a death wish on the hotel's lintel;  
Outside copse's foliage joggle
And I think cold.  
  

The air is sullen and austere,
It knows what it's doing to me.
The air that kills, kills, kills.  
  

The radio stubbornly blubbers
More sheepish than a baby,
Confabulating the local rugby.  
  

I collapse like a sack of black potatoes.
I feel weirder than Pluto.  

I am an alien, an alien to the bulbous women
  
And silver lined suited men.  
The grand annunciation
"I hope you enjoy your stay"  
  
Makes my organs twist and puffer.  
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!
This place cries for my demise.  
  
III
It's a rural community.  
Mothers in ghastly flannel and baby spew
swallow gossip like Communion tablets.  

The precious circulate the carousel,
Scoffing hot dogs like prepubescent piglets,
Sausages sliding like fat worms

And burning like hearts in an oven.  
The sizzling steam disintegrates
Like clouds of Statismospores

Spreading positively into ether.  
The sun beats like a muscle
Burning, burning, burning

My laundry-washed white.
I’m vulnerable.  
I was once pure and sweet like an Aryan,  

Now I am dying, dying, dying
From fat smiles curled like a snail
With grey fatty hooks under my eyes.  




IV  


Tiny bluestocking girls like me  
All congregate in the Library .
At last I am by myself.  

I still don’t feel at peace.  
My thoughts are frightening
When I am at my writing.  

They are even worse,
In fact deathly,
If I do not write.  

This climate of strange spacemen,  
This culture of monstrous noses
Has driven many women mad,  

Not excluding a woman like me.  
I’m bored to death, literally.
Now, now, I say,  

Carrying my golden bags of poetry,
“I love what will destroy me,
And hate what will heal me”.  


October 5th 2013
onlylovepoetry Feb 2017
a teeny tiny
whited-out blank space,
the tenuous boundary that separates,
higher man from untamed beast,
so powerful when respected,
the crowning hallmark of human acclamation
we all do wear by right of birth and breathe


you see it right?

that invisible peaceful white
spatial, tiny yet palatial dot that separates
us from rack and ruin,
the mighty differential pause between

in civility and incivility

come not to preach or harangue,
my counsel kept within the
between beats of a mournful drum,
respectfully and slowly banged

each silent separation a prayerful plea,
the inserted peacekeepers of our spoken words,
employ well those powerful pauses that refresh
the speaker and the listener so well

leave behind your
self-righteous disbelief in others' beliefs,
that morphs into no toleration,
an arrogant surety,
that surely the ****-ytical results of
your thoughtful processes,
inevitability correct and brook no resistance

the shrill strumpets
of either side
confidently worship at no church
but to the false gods
of their own mirrored reflection,
who smiles back approvingly
at those who scream the loudest...

outlaw the outrage of your rage,
come to my white clothed table,
put aside the wrath of overbearing,
represent your disparate conclusions
with harmonious, breathable pauses
to reflect and respect
our distinctive and distinguished differences

no one ever lost a reasoned argument
that began with a considered, well tempered

good morning

what has this to do with
only love poetry?


*well, everything...for you must love thy neighbor
as you love yourself
Feb. 2017
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
In the presence of any hearing ear or seeing eye,
the oldest man in the room stood and said,

I suggest a motion be made that:
This proven means of reaching a realizable samesame state
of peace and freedom, 'mongst beings of all
breeds tested as sapient and unem us augmentedus,

be administered free at any seven one eighty Fibbo equipped
joy ride facility.

The Motion:
All peace negotiations,
all settling negotiations
on earth,
must now be preceded by
a ranked pairing of the parties,
{what if wit life partners, so we have a four wide}

Yeah, pairs of plus ones, two by two

most worthy of admiration and respect and trust
ranked order,

let the first rank step into the car. wait for the message.
YOUR BODY IS LOCKED IN< YOU CANNOT DIE ON THIS RIDE

each rank takes its place, reads and and agreed terms of unbelief release.
combine con questseers haulin
ah questions mistook
for quests... happens, but

that ranked the riders? the waring bros. us the unem
of four are in car one,
Aha, the roller coaster Poke'mon, as Grandpa

suggested, in the entrancment lesson, did you hear that story?g
This is no linked, but generally,

breadcrumb... weak link back... but later

this is the chunk chunk chunk cogged rotation
of gears in gears meshing

chunk, chunk, chunk to the peak the initial
wave on the Fibbonaci ***** with
one eighty per twist time s

seven,
we endure... ah it is not we riding, ha, I for got
virtual reality, by god, i'd say
pretty good, too.

and we, no, they are upside down, which was the intention,
the whole party of peace negotiators

realize
the terms of agreement
and the benefit of proper ranking
{discounting **** in a coriolis sorta swirl, that shall hap, watch}

Before the pen and ink and all our augmented eyes everseeing witness
war is stupid and too costly at this phase to waste any more unexamind lives on,

beacause we can. We agree, we. the people, peacemakers are

and peacekeepers be... we,

the controllers of every mob on earth, we bodies of words in minds.
War now is as useless as smallpox and polio in bubbles
of babies
where peacemaking is set to kick in after terrible twos,
epigenetically, but  set with the polio vaccine, prenatal-mods hapt in the moms with
the Mario plumbing level.

We are getting better results. At five they are inquisitive,
and comprehend portals need means of access
which must be learned while find ing
messages with
synchronus meaning.

Now, then, that means
something real but we don't know what, yet, grandpa, don't

--soto voce', {golf-whisper}
the key to this portal,
long still being a true let be-er,

but meaning is imagined in the games,
my seven grand children all were born after 3g.
these fresh augmented us, mentally, more than we could think or ask.
They find meaning faster than
we found it in **** and Jane, and The Little Red Hen

The future is bright. Not a big bang. Not even a pop. A sigh,
of satisfaction. Believe it or die, eventually, wishing you had examined
life more close-up, earlier.

Fret not. Later is as real as you can realize. Watch and see.
History is so much more enlightening now. Think how Ben Franklin would have seen our gloabl brain's access to accrued wisdom in old age.
Em Glass Sep 2020
And yet I don’t seem to remember
that anyone wished for District Five
not to have exploded the dam
that lit the Capitol’s lights.
I don’t seem to recall people
buying the tale that the police
were keeping any peace.
We were not given the mirror
to look at ourselves and say
"no, that’s not me."
unironically re-experiencing the Hunger Games trilogy in this the year of our lord 2020
Dustin Goodman Dec 2014
SHE IS FOREVER, SO HOW CAN I DIE? LOVE FOR ETERNITY, WHY WOULD I LIE? BEAUTIFUL CREATION FROM THE HEAVENLY SKY. SOMETIMES I HAVE TO ASK MYSELF WHY ME WHY? I GIVE IT ALL FOR HER, LOVELY, BREATH TAKING HEART. EARTH NOR ANYTHING COULD EVER TEAR US APART. SHE IS MY GODDESS I WILL SA Y IT AGAIN. RAIN OR SHIHE THIS WILL NEVER ******* END! MY WHO LIFE HAS BEEN DIFFERENT, OH THA T IS FOR SURE. IN THE TRANCE OF THE ABYSS MY SOUL WILL FOREVER LURE. THE MAGICAL GARDENS IN MY HEAD WILL FOREVER CURE. THE CATS AROUND THE GLOBE PER, PER, PERI DARKEST THOUGHTS IN MY MIND GLOW SO BRIGHT. VAMPIRES COME OUT TO PLAY AND THEY LOVE TO BITE. THE STARS IN SPACE WILL LIGHT UP THE NIGHT. US PEACEKEEPERS DON'T BELIEVE IN YOUR ******* FIGHTI I NAVIGATE THE SEA SO I CAN LEARN, YOU CAN NEVER BURN. AND WITH THE FLOW OF SOUND YOU CAN NOT DROWN. WIND BLOWS OF THE OCEAN, CHANNELS TO THE TREES. ALL THE WISDOM FROM OTHER WORLDS IS SHARED INSIDE OF ME. YOU BELIEVE IN EVIL SUCH A PITY WASTE OF FLESH. HUMANS ARE SO LOST WHAT A HORRIBLE MESS..
Noa Adler May 2023
Oh, to be loved.
What a wish, what a craving.
Freeing, at times,
Yet, oddly, enslaving.

Tied to the wall
By a chain of events
And everyone wants
To give their two cents,

And little old me,
Is curled up in the corner.
I know I belong,
But I feel like a foreigner,

And all that I want
Is your safe, warm embrace,
And all that I get
Is a slap to the face.

This place -
Once a haven, a field where I roamed,
Has lost its spark,
It doesn't feel like a home.

There's cards on the table,
The gamblers place bets,
They set up the scene
As they spit empty threats.

And we run, run away,
As forth move the reapers,
Tired of being pursued,
Tired of being peacekeepers.

But finally,
Just down the street, 'round the bend,
We'll find a place where
Our wounds can all mend.

And you'll lie by my side,
Lips to lips, misbehaving.
Oh, to be loved,
What a wish, What a craving.
n White Apr 2015
games like small children
fire like the hell pit
relentless stupidity
disgust and aching soul
all the dogs are black
barking and biting
chewing to the bone

syphilitic like groupie ******
sycophantic like talk show hosts
skies of swine
and rivers of dirt that can't flow
people undervalued
fighting and clawing
for a morsel to take home

dreams like night terrors
opportunity like a flu vaccine
black hole emptiness
always night but never peaceful
militant peacekeepers
targets all lined up
wrangled into old chains

longing for the end
for the end of the world
trying to bring it ever closer
just to hold it tight
Zachary Mar 2015
How hard does this
thing gotta be?
a blinding world outside
and a world inside
too dark to see

What confuses you
also
confuses
me

Leaders too scared to lead
peacekeepers fighting wars
within
themselves

Endless insecurity
even though
nobody knows
just what
the ****
they're doing

Why are we afraid?
Why do we feel we
must
know?

Can't we
just
be happy to
just
understand?

And you
all you need to do
is take my hand

Because
I get this feeling
like I've been here
before

And you were here
too
But you don't seem to remember
that you are indeed
you

And, I think
that you're me too
because...

because when you really think about it
we're not so different
you and I

we both enjoy a good laugh
good enough
to make you cry

We both love
I know it
the warmth
in sitting close

And don't you love
that gleam in the eye
when we both
have the same thought?

or that weird
moment
when it feels like years
between each
shared
heartbeat

But we've all been told
this shouldn't be
That there is only
one right way to see
and I know that
you trust them
more than you
trust me

You and I are the same
except that you
are so much more
interesting

...And I think
it's because
you trust them
more than you
trust me

They're probably right
after all
it's not so bad
being lonely
Seema Oct 2017
Into the sky
I see you fly
I doubt my vision
But you on a mission
You have metal feathers
With a shiny armour
Very proudly you fly
With untamed drama
An air strike flight
Shooting in the skies
The day seems night
How fast the time flies
The peacekeepers
Rescuing the survivors
The hell gatekeepers
Leash with tank drivers
I am a child of today
But tomorrow I may never see
Gunning and shooting all the way
Escape seems not a key
Surrounded by forces
Am lost in the middle
Wondering the causes
Of a naked needle
Onto the helpless people
That strive to survive
Stained in blood, some now criple
Few still alive, am one of them
SHOOT US DOWN!!!
As I light this lamp
Oil drapes on my gown
Death surrounds the camp
What day is today?
What date is today?
Don't mark my death
Don't light a lamp.......
........in our memory, I pray!!


©sim
•|Dedicated to the war torn countries|•
Happy Camper Sep 2017
Hyperbolic statements can't seem to convey
How the peacekeepers can no longer keep the rioters at bay
And in a trying time my adviser would say,
"Give in to their demands, your grace, I do pray."
But I have been exhausted from toiling all day
So I will rest motionless on this bed I shall stay
As the fabric of my sanity begins to fray.
Michael Kusi Oct 2018
All the men in me want war
And the eye that is bathed in the baptism in the sunrise
Also wants to be the heart that has no pain.
Calm down son, calm down.
But there is no calm or down here.
I just have to remember what was said.
What was spoken.
I think it was a whisper, I hope it was a shout
They placed hands on me
Because they were peacekeepers.
But no good can happen
When you don’t just want war
You are battle.
So when you have to sign treaties
You sigh and say
Now I want peace but these men in me won’t lay down their arms.
Even though they  are so depleted.
These canines of burden only now have the stones in front to throw
And I’m now a glass house.
NadPoet Jun 2018
They preach to hate and curse the enemy
But this not what He preach in the mount beatitudes
When everyone listens and hear his words
He blessed those who are poor in spirit
And those who mourn and who are meek
Those who are seeking righteousness and merciful
A pure in heart and those peacemakers not peacekeepers
And those who are persecuted because of righteousness
Surely God is with them and theirs the kingdom of Heaven
This is the words the he peached
But others have a different words they teach
Be selfish in your ambition is what they want to reach
To become great and in earthly things they are rich
Fot them help is not an option but it is only for the weak
They dont know the real meaning of how to become meek
Gaining the whole world and losing their soul
They are acting righteous but still a fool
Never accepts a correction from another person
By the end of they day still they will say
All things are vanity and this life is just a temporary
And for the wicked still hell is their final destiny
Infamous one Nov 2021
M52
One day they love you
The next they hate you
Because you didn't play the games
Now they are mad making a fuss
Asked if it was okay they were fine
Told the truth don't care for lies
Forgave them still no change
They came at you trying to provoke
When you've walked away
Trying to turn others on you
Cancel out for being different
Like exposing you makes them better
Rather be alone than deny ones self
Kept a distance playing it safe
Wanted to be a peacemaker
More than peacekeepers
Tired of living and being a certain way
Over others toxic and bad behavior
Feeling pushed out been on both sides
Our kind are rather clever
there are not many of us left you to know
they will be wicked to me if I tell
our hands glow with radiance and can heal
that we have lived forever
and only in battle with our own do we die

Peacekeepers and war makers
the hand of the just we support and trust
but it is sad to say
we leave in seven hundred and 21 days
you think that is a long time
to us, it's just a blink of the eye

My leave is over soon
back to the deep black, I do go
to battle with our brothers and sisters
the universe is vast
and we have our tasks
we fight so ****** hard

We are off in a while
our banner is red and black
the red hand of our queen
on a jet black background
our kits we do pack
as we are ready to react

It will fall in tears
like last time
just hurt did pour down
and again I will cry tears of blood


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
jeffrey conyers Jun 2020
If Adam never said it.
Then I will say it now.
Thank God(Thank God)
For a woman.
One of God's greatest creations.

Yes Yes yes
Thank God(Thank God)
For a woman.
The creator of a happy home.

Deny it, if you might.
You soon see truth comes to light.
They know ways to make things right.
Even if they are upset.

They are wonderful.
They are beautiful.
And it's very, very true.
We can't live by bread alone.

Oh, thank God(for a woman)
You the peacekeepers of this world.
And deserve to be cherished.

You might call a man a king.
But none are good without a Queen.

— The End —