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Fah Oct 2013
Afternoon light cascades onto ocean skin ,
momentarily turning the water a fine gold shimmer -
light dances merrily , shifting as the plane turns southwards - Equator barrier broken

Welcome to the Southern Hemisphere !

Cloud islands mirror
ground islands .

Puff ***** create architectural feats not known to humanity.  
Flowing with the wind , creating substance out of thin air
the ultimate magicians trick ,
Above , thin wisps of stratus clouds brushstrokes seamless onto sky glaringly iridescent and soft all at once.....hey look! ..... way out in the distance , towering cumulus on their way to becoming cumulonimbus thunderstorms , steady growth of stacks even out when a cold air bank has been reached....the sky writes love letters to the earth

in his cloud postcard snapshots , yet - it is a serenade from them both

Earth offers the waters , the dust needed for the molecules to bind together -  sky transmutes them in his belly - with shifting winds and earth curvature the color palate spectrum .

the offspring , playing in between two worlds
belonging to no one arriving and departing , shape shifters

whole landscapes whirling in amongst themselves , remain unseen,  save for the few souls in tin machines hurtling along in the presence of natures finest high sky views.

Azure crisscrossed with opaque whites and rapidly turning dusk eggplant purples , wild and free form mingle with voluptuous orange streams of liquid light , hiding in the shadows the ‘day’ comes to an end ...

Does natures delicate hands sculpt the static water molecules knowing that there is beauty there ,


i have yet to fathom how such a gracious glory goes un noticed by many ,

luckily , for us , as we destroy every other aspect of earths eco system - the bold sky still remains ,

In the city doldrums and slums high rises
or slums on ground
or mansion view

the sky still bears dow the art works of sunset and rise ,
of cloud shifters and shapers , movers and shakers
still offers a connection to natures heart to remind us , of the magnificence that is our world. That is our home,

although - i have been told - under the surface or in this case , above the surface , here too has been attacked , pumping deadly toxic fumes into water ways
and lung ways

knowing all the whilst that this will do more harm than good

and here is where i , still struggle - i’m writing this on the plane -

a carbon dioxide emitting , fossil fuel guzzling , corporate ******* of a business .

but i need to get places , and go long distances in the shortest amount of time possible ..
ArturVRivunov Oct 2011
life is never what it seems to be, always reoccuring with a thought as put upon the length of arms that revolutionize this thought. . .for those that can be bought,
is day like today less then feeling of want to rot, because so simple as a breeze brought down your temperment to be pleased. . .caught in a storm, that has outlasted
longer then your heart to feel content and warm, to feel the essence of a breath among a group of bad breaths, in other words, to breath among a group of brothers and sisters
from whom you can gain so much. But life is never what it seems to be, instead you look yourself in the mirror pointing at me, you, fool. Glowing from ragging frustration,
the toll blows for you unsurpassable deflation, because it is not for your hand that grows for the motion, to pick which ******* **** you want to lotion. Spearing the reasons,
the ego is your hero, born to work zero, and trusted with such hand to uphold all by command. To twist on the ****, that opens your door, to circumstances i certainly care less
the **** to continue to explore. But with this slight little mention, please pay close attention because this song is a *****. At least to explain the message, my whole is a
whole that takes life time to experience and grow, and appreciate the things that stoop all the levels around me, no barrier, no door, just genuine life experience to bring me
to come to this point to explain to the world something within the self, that is described by astute persons, for whom these ideas carry on to fulfill an immense part of
something that is casually slipped in and never thought about because it is told within reason that humanity cannot be without such astute person's idealogy. For **** sake my
friend, if your have many common sense, think of the common thing that has driven you to come to the conclusion that you have come to about anything. Everything is absolute and
existent and is evoked through the means. . .from the time of your dissapating freedom, as kids, not as adults, because look at how adults are this days. They teach their kids,
and they let others teach their kids, but the kids never get the feeling of being free. I promiss you, that cry or emotion you have experienced due to lack of friendliness from a
neighboring ****, it is an instillement that sparks up many motions of your life to believe into bizarre things the world portrays. For myself, I find the starting point of my
when I first breathed my first sensible air, when I walked in my own two feet without guidance as to where my eyes were seeing. How can a mind be so tender, lost by the misconformed
train thogh after train thought. That is why I find schooling such a fascinating ruthless thing that can be broken into several fashions as to why is that case. But not even
reason to fashion an answer that I know will and is definetly can be viewed to abhold a societal dismark of "wF"is wrong with that guy's mind. He must be **** casing a storm to
bring an ideaology of thought or some **** religion, but that's what so funny to me. I find everything in life comedic, non concerning except at times if I feel similar to
someone adjacent because that is their essence in my prescence, and I feel the need to comfort it, to bring back the importance of that self. The part of life I find so comedic,
how bits and bits and everything with **** have all so many fascinating
things to learn from, the progression of one's mind never attains self worth in the world with something interfering. That something interfering for example, is me personally
writing what is can be taken as pointless and presenting my writing to you how I say I do. But did I say how I am presenting this writing, absolutely not. So brings the funny,
that school teaches the aspect of disfigurament of a person's essence. This thing is a complete oblivion to everything and anything, that because even though I did not specify
how I tone myself on this paper, there is the predicament to assume that I am very angry deranged person who but pokes charasmatically at something no one can grip, because he
is portraying me the image the way I was bred to see. But then it is so **** funny, you can also take my words describing
all that I intend to explain and stick them against me to simplify your circumstances as to the causitive feeling your experiencing, and maybe the confusion that I am creating
noting a significant point that I do write intentionally without any figurative wording, just simply talking about this to evoke a presence of an essence within you that is hindered,
by what type of **** everybody is wearing, where they are starring, who is ******* and adoring, and who's simply the **** because they don't fit in a deranged group, developed by
ego-centric level stingers, who but want either good for you, or it is the drive to profit from you everything. That is, words blah blah, can take stroll
on one day's role and make no complete sense, and all they did were live the sense of a tangled mind that fostered on what has been in some form, taught, over
what you can call a lively existence, considering how much traumatizing headaches this could cause, and resembled among a group of similar constituents with similar reasons
as to whatever the situation might be. I could point this out within one sentence, but it wouldn't hold any deeper understanding of this essence, so instead I decide with all
my reasoning and tremendous experience that even to some, even at this gritty expertisians who grease up the world to guess everything based on study and reasoning by other humans,
who believe all these ideas are shifters to the mind but always stem the relentless, functioning without any perspectives open to the idea that mold humans into one spatial and far better
so called community, which in all it's case has lost the essence to preserve the self without a ***** on the back. That ***** of course is the communal ****, that builds from a
trigger of words, then they teach the brain as if it is known how to be as a functioning unit. The amount doesn't matter, the amount that is thought brings hope, but the most
amount to the self is the function of you, like I feel I function amongst anyone because I have come to terms and realize what really important things I have learned from my life.
My life to some is gripping, only because it sounds unbelievable, but of that life I found the same driving forces that drive madness even today, and has been reaccuring for as
long as some form of expression has been. And in all humiliation of humanity, or as I consider it digression of being self around the bounds of comfortability, it has been
a grand experience to see many a people transgress from the point of my meeting them with a continuous contact to the point of now, and then, and future plausible. But then
and future plausible for me stand out as notions needless of evocations due to the fact that the self is a dwindling factor hung by a rope to swing the way the self first portrayed
to me, and then to the direction away from the first encountered mind. But in all, without senseless ignorance, I do understand these things are studied for a reason, for a reason
that is workable to be as they are for some variables do affect person's in many different way. That is why, the sense of one roof and too many aloof is but a big spoof. With
sensibility, how can forging something into your life help you to achieve greatness within self to portray it in a manner plausible. The only way is as a current flows, so do
the gulls.



where do you. . .come from. . .so many leagues unbeknownst among my dreams.
life is never what it seems. . .until i met your eyes.. . that built
my stongest implication, dire in desire to live a life inspired. . .
but then so is, to dream upon what tends on building motivation. . .
life is beautiful sensation. . .
from the first rainfall with you meeting outside spontaneous realm. . .
we fought the solemn wind to calm our cumbered spirits. . .taking flight,
fighting what might have been. . .semeless to even entertain. . .lost in
each others warmness. . .everything we built tended harmless.

now see how we have. . .related to each other's hearts. . .left the scrutinity
at obscurity prolonged on scale of mirror. . .where it has always belonged.
now it's just time darling
i promiss it wont be long until our roots bind the maximum strong.

from even across the plains, and mountain long trip stains. . .i feel
less pain. . .from what's the phrase non loose then gain, consorting time
absorbing each other's essence in rhyme.
the deepest of sensation of you. . .the meekest of me, makes me be the simple thing
that i've reconnected to . . .to realize, the sensation of you. . .from our first
encounter, i felt deep into your eyes. . .what agree's none behind with lies. . .
you evoked the deepest motion within my sphere of emotion not to betray myself within
this realm and dark frivolous potion. . .for my first set of emotion set on your tone behind
this potion. . .

i face you eye for an eye of every day until i die, but will ever will i die. . .not with you
never. . .darling angel, angel you are my expressive tone to call you so. . .nothing more
is the essense of you that you seem to implore, how busy life must be. . .we need feel free
to good ridance from this fee that life doesn't instill our good griefs beyond simple joys and beliefs. . .
for simply darling we are each other's heart beats, if it's simple smell of you
i will carry out my deeds in hell. . .beneath on hearth this earth, where all of us have been given
birth. . .but sent to spend what is driven by multipolluted cord, the time in blunt approach from
the thing that planted our roots. . .

how i feel you is simply too rich for some dirt to enrich you. . .i simply love and cherish
every bit of your essence, it has lifelong presence that even doing what they call
reminiscing, can't surpass living without missing what they have been reminiscing. . .
i cherish you beyond what little faith can teach about having bigger faith, when all my hopes
ride faithful slopes without elongated stops and rope bearing hopes. . .
my life i see to the extent to remorse only what some feel beyond scope of too openly. . .
but how can i retreat on what i can't stop to feel to protect you from, to their heads we are getting closely. . .
how in the scope of your first essence, can i give up to give way to ruin such pure essence. . .

i understand the world makes a feeling for such pure feeling is counted by blessings. . .
and in order for us to make it, that thought i feel senseless baking . . .constant roll of assorted
reasons for why we bleed to them treasons . . .for how can i express, how simple love doesn't
just digress, or something with time you invest. . .it's simply have been a joy of building
together a foundation for our nest. . .**** the rest. . .**** the pest. . .the world is the best
when sleepers are put to rest and the spark of commune are dwellers dwelling on these mischivers'
locked up chest. . .
to find out that darling. . .you simply are a joy to give me whole, that i'm not uninspired troll
reluctant to breath beside the one he placed his greed upon. . .or her, or it. . but all the essence
is closed and beat, by some known with ideals humanity can't consider too farfetched to bare to grit. . .
and sway to the essence that i hold in my glances. . .are as simple as these branded constructed norms
that most tend to manipulate and distort to one contorted form. . . .so all can bend into one socket for 365
degree view that most tend to agree. . .but never really see.

i know it's many there with this essense around the breeze of an aura, that simply are stranded too far apart by such horror.. .
to relent their essence with their prescence. . .to whom Barbarians find the essence is planted full on messes.
but how can we relate to such things darling. . .when the first glow of your essence showed me life full
of memories by the smile in your eyes, glowing beauty of any sort. . .i feel the world will someday . . .
take flight. . .in my way, but **** that. . .i'm to speak when my message is too simple, provoked only by the
thought, "protect the world its miser mother has been beaten". . .i can never relent, the message that is never
but to contradict what's life has not eaten. . .because of the times put to squares, living life, fostering a step back, into recluce. . .these biches wont even
say cause their too ****. . .to figure out that there's a worrior to stump them pleaded sheets out of wood. . .
i say this out for your sarcasm, elongated this song a bit to give you big ******. . .so when you repose, you
think nothing but what side are the pro's. . .and enter them into oblivion, grasping each by the billion, how
can i repose for i know, without one word it is and has been always come down to the special chosen million. . .

because my darling, i feel the miser that this essence in me you inspire, is up and target for no good. . .for
these pleaded fockers granted themselves unrelentless priveleges for centuries, changing diepers to giving
blood diamond marriages. . .riding on what they call prestine carriages. . .oh what,you don't recognize this
what the world has come to building from everybody's demise. . .feeding on high rise. . .splitting cots in the
rots, most alluded with plots and continued building upon the essence of you, keeping you stewed, brewing up a flu. . .
to this day when i met you. . .
will never cease your memory by only that it was circumstance. . .romance among thieves denying our chance to dance. . .
with one glance, their world just plopped a chance. . .for i know they know who im refering to, without a glance
i'm sure they feel my stance just to look **** eyed puking. . .**** blocking their world to rocking, while else where goes to foster under
this ugly monster. . .stooped on a porch ******* their air, without any underwear. . .haha must be due to how
much pull goes to their hair. . .how do i, they feel ****** diddlidy ****, what, is this person a human or a
restored frame of mind living. . .i can't be what's in my eyes to be believing, but i simply am retarted man. . .
a ******* rough psychological fighting bluff, to them i would. . .but trust me, how could i in my life, i
never could.. . .fall to false pretention, that life is a great invention, that my desire's are for simple
hires. . .for i know my life evolves around that which your first essence, darling, we built stronger everyday
to our future of what we call present. . .

life with you, i simply can't resent. . .but figure out what's best
to make what we don't need to make. . . because the essence uproots life's shrivel of what they call romances. . .
rooting upward from the seed we planted on the day people deside to bleed
all over the notion, that this emotion they conquered stems from shot of elixir handed down from the heavens by
some they call cupid fixer. . .relentless, they push through many dances. . .all so strained and constricted by many
glances, restricting their free essence to feel in whole their life is shot down by simple messes. . . .
but you, none taken, broken and mistaken. . .how can simple things be so. . .when you know my essence for you is
far greater then what one instance can remark for the whole, i feel simply. . .protect you from their hole and
bind you with my essence that strives in whole. . .even through tormenting lonely dances. . .when i saw the world an ugly form. . .
nowhere to want to run to, or feel
resentment.. . where's life going to go. . .if my essence in a whole feeds you. . .away to their
mysterious goal. . .i wouldn't have the patience to ***** their abnormal pretence, as if life is sweet with
such mysterious fowl. . .create little thought to create bigger picture, many aditions just create tensities
among those who bicker, loosing control each time only quicker. . .that's why it's never lesser to speak for the lesser
dresser, or the person they showed you, that looked like he ******* told you, but instead they made the mistake
to grow lower. . . cowering even bolder. . . what **** is the point of that. . .to say it none meeker as if its meant to outcast the bleeker
. . .i'm not that so. . .to scowl like fowl crackhead, loosing self reliance to gr
Dr Peter Lim Jul 2019
Most are shifters
  few are stayers
We can never never forget
our birth right !
we among we are we who are not
****** for the demiurg's
plan

No one is !
self assured
protegee-s
are born with a silver platter
beneath their behinds
and golden locks around their hearts

Open the gates ! to compassion
to love and beauty

Mems are inherently deep
mims singing their song
of freedom forlorn

Endlessly lost in a wicked
vastness of matter

Dark tea time
The other one - is - medica !

Heal me
O'neal me
Nurture our love
Embrace me
Yearn to be yearned
(by her, by me)

Give me your spirit - to fly !
for a wide                    
                            while
I'll lend you - my shape !
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
^
previously inspired by Aha's old video and their magnificent
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6VaeFCxta8
˘
Amir Jan 2011
we're all shape shifters.

we
         put on weight
and
         give off heat.
we
         spit on the sidewalk
and
         **** up air.

*******
                  do we **** up air.
like they stopped making it,
                           or something.

and when we sweat
it evaporates into rain.

in the
             composting
           blast furnace
              of our guts
we
         reduce and deconstruct.
we
         take the good
and
         turn the rest into ****.

and we apply this same
learned approach

to our fellow
shape shifters.
2011
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2021
One night
I was a werewolf,
but that got out of hand.
One night
you were a peach,
but I preferred fresh
over canned.

The blood scent was strong
and on your collar,
or was it spaghetti sauce?
We meandered in
the lost city of angels,
but those women
in the maternity ward
were better shape-shifters.

Couldn't see if the moon
was full against
the polluted skyline,
(but I bet it wasn't).

Then somewhere
down the tracks,
the howler (that's you),
half a dream away
on some deserted block,
and flat on your back
like a pancake,
with the nightmares
stacking up,
and dripping
with strawberry syrup.

Or was it blood?
(I bet it wasn't).
nivek Jan 2017
let me jump into your skin and you in mine
walk a mile without murmur or complaint
and then see if we still have the heart
to put each other down.
lilah raethe Jan 2014
we have to realize our ideals shape our world
change our consumption fueled
capitalist mindset
of oppression, poverty, power
and aren't we all human?
why tear down other nations?
why tear down the trees,
Mother Earth - the heavens?
will our greed end?
we create our greed and why?
we can create
all we dream -
we have power, we have steam
we are trains,
imaginatively stuck to rails
of society;
what will i be?
will i marry?
will i have money?
when we are truly
h o v e r i n g
there are no chains
no restrictions
to our peace, serenity,
wholeness, oneness.
the only question
we need ask is:
will we be happy?
or
are we creating a world
in which our children
will even be healthy?
i fear.
i fear for the lives of many.

will we realize our power?
we must
for we are shifters
we are dreamers
we are artists, creators.
we are angels;
we are alive.
Olivia Kent Oct 2013
Night time's come.
Where have the shadows gone.
Maybe dissolved when daylight left.

They come and go in light of day.
They love to play their crazy games.
Shadows of dudes.
Shadows of dames.
All in relation to time.

Strange creatures.
They are just shadows.
Turn off the light.
They vanish.

Turn on the light.
They're back.
Shrinking fast.
Growing quick.

Their own position changes.
In a perfect stance.
By light enhanced.
Free spirits in dark shadows.
Evicted by the switch.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
LannaEvolved Feb 2021
Love is the feeling of what it feels like to know
without a glimmer of anything but certainty.
That Love is faith in what still exists
In the sliver of a piece of the life
you always knew lives and breathes deep inside you
A new life where the moon overlooks
the shadow of doubt and dust from a past one
It is to form the new horizon of truth happiness inner peace in silent deserved action. This truth you know.
Believe in that love.
A lovely heartfelt message delivered by butterfly that has found her wings again over the past 4 years; learning to understand the love that resides within herself and always has.
Cheers to the day all my amazing Shifters, to this day, and to the happiest and beautiful of Valentines to you all. Love is here for you now.
People are shapeshifters
They change their skin from time to time
Sometimes they are preys
Lovely and faerie
Innocent lifeforms
Unlike the evil norms lurking on earth.
But mostly, they are killers.
They'll **** you upfront
They'll **** you while you're not watching
There's no catching for there is no justice
For no one notice

No one notices because they've changed their skin again.
Just a random thought.
Kathleen May 2011
Its getting about that time
that we all switch pictures
define ourselves in some new way
write plays about the years we didn't pay attention to whilst in them.

She glows.
Shifts in the distance like shifters do
mirrors the parts of me I cling to
splices in the new shade of blue

that some commoners cooked up one summer

I want to move like you do
I want to follow a tune that you grew
up out of that dangerous mouth of yours

I want to slip in unnoticed into your background
I want to leave you in the wake of a spellbound
insomnia silvia nightgown.

I'm a remix of secret decisions
that I would love to let you and your friend in.
Take the tour of the wicked and old sins
that I wrote when I worked for the lived-in.

But she's still staring loudly at the floor.
Forgetting what project I wrote for.
Forgetting what score I produced.
Forgetting why I haven't noosed myself quite yet.

She shifts in the distance like shifters do,
mirrors the parts of me I cling to.
Hush my little one
They might hear
We must be silent
Not let them find us
For they never understand

They hate who we are
Always hunting us
We try to survive
But still they come
They always do

So in the shadows
Do we now dwell
Reduced to hiding
From these mortals
We may die in thirst

I say we must rebel
For we are stronger
Shape shifters
With naught to dear
Let us rise in freedom

Remember little one
How they killed her
The way your mother
Was taken from us
When they found out

How can we fight back
They have too many weapons
Different ways to **** us
We can only use the night
But they can use the day

How can I not recall
My dearest father
The way she died
The cruelty of it all
Never feeding on them

Ripping her from our coven
Leaving us in eternal misery
Of a loss forever engraved
Yet, I can not shake
My deep thirst for revenge

I am tired my little one
Feeling my true age
For too many centuries
This was my existence
Now you must carry on

My life is slowly fading
The coldness is close
You have fed from me
So you can be strong
Goodbye my little one

My father now gone
The ultimate sacrifice
Of an undying love
For his only daughter
Lost now am I - alone

A curse once bestowed
By the dark of night
Never to return
To the day of light
Losing all I have loved

With new found strength
I now hold - I will seek
The one who cursed us
In this living nightmare
For time is now immortal

Through the silence
Of the nights calling
I shall fight, with might
Striking - taking down
The prince of the night
Copyright © Lucy Martins and Chris Smith 2012
Tamara Fraser Aug 2016
What is it, that you could want from me,

my friend?

We walk along as shape-shifters;

Flickering, ephemeral forms.

Starting a labyrinth from opposite ends,

we hope to meet at the heart.

The strategy you follow and the actions I take

will never agree though.

I know you will keep left,

and I will circle endless maps,

waiting for you to find me.

Because that is what you do;

you find me.

I need your shelter, when I’m drowning in thorns,

spiny hedges, out of shape;

twisting and curling their brambles around me.


What is it, that you could want from me,

sweet lover?

Moth to flame;

shadows to the light;

a starving creature to the scent of fresh blood;

you gaze and crave and advance,

lost in heat.

I simply lean and wait to find you wanting.

Wanting the same crazed thing every other

man wants from me.

You are of the same mould;

burn the same;

hurt me the same;

excite me the same. But that is not an invitation.

I welcome the thrill;

but I also shiver at the chill you let in as you enter;

leaving the door open to a blizzard.


What is it, that you could want from me,

lovely admirer?

I struggle to cover up my holes and gaping wounds before

you eye me.

You like my insecurity;

you feed off my uncertainty.

You can sway me like no other.

Because you have seen those weak spots under

my skin and feathers.

And you show me you like them.

You warm the air around me,

everything shimmers and is soft to the touch.

I’m safe moving into your arms until

you show me truly what you are.

Scaly, coiled as a spring, rough,

grazing and cutting my skin.

You’re a snake that charmed me into

harm.

Stop admiring me, It’s worth so little

I could be better without it.


What is it, that you could yearn for in my presence,

my love?

Long, slow days wrapped in each other.

Excitement buries itself into expectation. Into routine.

I know you’re there when I call.

I know you sense my tears building,

before I do.

I know you already understand the words yet

to tumble from my mouth;

dirtying the floor and reeking of loss.

Why yearn, when you already have been given what

you need?

Why moan and cry at my feet, hurting, when you’ve already taken

what you need?

It’s only need. It’s not desire, or dreams.

It’s physical, real, and I’m the lost one thinking it was different.

Maybe, one day my love, I’ll be the one to yearn instead.

Loud enough that it will shudder and surge through your skin.

Enough that you can give back to me.


What is it, truly, that you want?
LD Goodwin Jul 2013
Wake up!
Gotta ride!
Stretch Piriformis
Crawl out of bed
My God my hair!
Cold water in the face!
I can do this, I’ve done it before
One egg fried,
One piece of toast,
One bowl of granola,
One cup of courage w/ cream and brown sugar.
Do something with that hair!
Drink more liquids
I’m awake now,
walk out into the heat
It’s 8am and 75 degrees already
Go back in and fill an extra bottle
Got my Fig Newton’s
Got my Shot Blocks
Got my senses
Air up, 110 in front, 120 in back
Check brakes
Do I freewheel?
I need to clean this ride someday
What time is it?
I gotta **** again
You ready to go Dude?
Helmet on,
Gloves and glasses
Let’s go!
Ride “rollers” for the first 15 miles or so then…
Hit the hill from hell
Drink all your water now, you won’t be able to once you start climbing.
6-8 % grade  
Cat 2-3
Only a few miles long, but seems like forever
It’s like standing still
2-3 miles and hour grind
Gotta stand up now and then, my Piriformis are killing me
So steep you pop little wheelies with every stroke if you sit too far back on the bike
hands sweating through the gloves making it hard to hold on to the hoods
Grip the shifters so tight your hands get just as tired as your legs
Up and out of the saddle now,
rocking the hill, and dancing on the pedals
Glad to see false tops
Catch a breath or two
Hairpin curves so sharp I can see myself coming and going
No “circle back" rule on this hill.
Car passing by asks, “You fixin' to climb 'at dare hill?'”
Cows look at me as if I am crazy
Your mind says no
Your body says no
You say yes…. It’s just one stroke after another
90 degree heat now.
Thank God for the shade
Nothing you do after this will be as hard
But this is harder than anything you've ever done
Your body will remember what happens today
You are in oxygen deprivation the whole hill
You can't talk
You take breaths so big that your you hear your ribs creak and find their place.
You can't take your hands off the handlebar
You can't stop, you'll go down
If you stop you have to go back down to get clipped in to come back up
Your sunglasses are fogging up from the heat
You stop thinking about everything, except how to get up this hill
And then it hits you….. I am going to do this!
I am going to climb this ******* hill!
There is the top!
****, I am going to do this!

And for awhile, just as you come over the summit,
You imagine you're
wearing a polka dotted jersey,
and pretty French girls are handing you flowers,
and a cute stuffed animal,
and are kissing you on the cheek.

Then you ride the other 15 or so miles home,
take a shower, eat a bowl of pasta.
And go to work at the mall selling bicycles
to customers who have no idea
that you just gracefully climbed
a Cat 2-3 hill
in 90 degree heat,
at 61 years old


*http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/fullscreen/246751753/
Harrogat,TN July 2013
Tobias.
A handsome, broad-shouldered man with soft earth-brown eyes,  that lived in 18th century England, who then came to America with his mother and father plus his eight brothers.
He would die of fever at the age of 23.
After he died,  he did not move on to the afterlife, instead he was chosen by a group of elders called The Guard.
As a Guardian, he was tasked a keeper of human lives selected  by The Guards' standards as 'changers,' or humans that change the course of history.
Tobias rejected his forced calling and attempted to abandon his task.
The oldest of The Guard, Helten, a man thousands of years old (only looking 40), approached him and asked a simple question, "Why do you want to truly die?"
Tobias was silent,  until Helton added,
"There is a Shift after your changer."
Shifters, or Shifts,  are the enemies of the Guardians and their mission is to destroy all changers so that Shifts can take their place and change the world to their liking.
Tobias added gruffly,  "Which one?"
"Daniel."
Tobias' hand squeezed into a fist. He hated Daniel ever since the 1920's. He wanted a rematch since that idiot tried to **** his charge for a cigarette.
Tobias wanted to punch him.  Hard.
His eyes flashed crimson,  and his fists turned blue flame.
"Where is he?!" Daniel growled.
Helton smirked,
"Pennslyvania."
This is a teaser from a story I have been working on. Hope you like it!
Andrew T Hannah Dec 2011
Every night when i close my eyes,

I enter a Virtual Wonderland.

A world unlike any other.

A world where anything is possible.

A world where pigs can fly.

A world where men are shape-shifters.

Anything I please.

But when I'm troubled,

This world becomes a Virtual Hell.

A world unlike any other.

A world where anything is possible.

A world where pigs fall from the sky, wings burning.

A world where men have gone wrong.

Nothing i please.

When i come to grasp reality again,

I roll over and cry.

My life, even in my sleep, is tormented.
Emanuel Wolfe Oct 2013
why must i be so angry at you
your quiet heart sang to me
the sweet exotic flutes
humming through my eardrums
relieving me of a curse  that cannot be broken
you are never a page in my mind
conundrums collapse like a tower
sphinx's are black and gold
shape shifters fail to safe
everything is a disgrace
like puzzle pieces we fall in place
silver treasures
gold the most
plain and simple hurts so close
the hoax is coaxed in cellophane
truth is a pain
better symptoms for the name
blaming is the game
shakes in my brain
thorns in my side
may love go insane?
Sia Jane Nov 2013
She's that star, not like the others
the one that's a diamond, the one
that always shines the brightest
the Northern star
, forcing its
presence on the world it looks
upon.

Black and white, shades of grey
moods alter and change, wolves of
the night, shape shifters of the
underworld
, another passer by
of this unholy night where she
 retreats.

Daylight illuminates, all around
her, eyes flicker adjusting to the
light, lifting her naked body she hears
her name called out
, voices under
the bed, that reside inside her
head.

She grasps tightly, the throw she has
covered herself in, steps over to the
window, as the cameras flash like
shooting stars
, but this isn't a beautiful
night sky, these are vultures feeding on
her.

Disgruntled, she bows her head and
walks away, towards the bathroom
glancing in the mirror, make up still
worn, a tear drop smudged
, and eyes
like a panda, green hazel blurred
reflection.

Another day dawned, another dollar
earned, another call to her phone
as Autumn falls to Winter, another
tour winds down
, liberating her voice
sending her heart back home to those
loved.

Home holds her heart, family ties so
fixed, friends as family, water as thick as
blood, her values are what make her
that keep her tied to the ground
, where
balloons could easily lift her into the
sky.

A fear of the unknown, who am I
without, the fans and the mayhem
endless travels and flights, jet lag and
a schedule so full, a zombie in sight
, letting go
won't come easy, but there is so much more she can
be.

Time is a healer, her solitude her
retreat, the glow of the night sky
from her loft house balcony
the hum of the traffic
, the smoke
of a blunt lipstick stained, there's just
her.

© Sia Jane
My writing is getting longer which I hope means more stories are coming because I could have carried on for a while with this, I had so much imagery in my head.
nivek Oct 2023
the older you get
the more gravity
wins.
Fearless
PART 1
Chapter 1
It was cold. Freezing. The first day of the winter chill had started here in Washington. There was a semi-secluded high school deep in the woods, holding some two thousand high school students.
Professor Thompson, a younger teacher, was yelling again, "If I see another one of you punks rolling in here halfway through class, I swear I'm going to fail each and every one of you!" Alexei grinned, his eyes closed, mouthing out the exact same phrase in unison with the teacher. His "pack" snickered behind him, nine boys and girls all dressed in dark clothes with varying levels of oddity. They were a small part of the senior class at Liberty High, and had the reputation as dangerous, rebellious punks. They embraced the title, knowing how true it was. They were Lycans. Shape shifters. Werewolves. They all meant the same thing. When they were young, around fifteen, they would have had their first shift. They would turn into Dire Wolves, about twice as large as your normal gray wolf.  During their first transformation, they would be guided to an alpha who would help them transition to the new life, teaching them how to shift at will and how to survive. In this case, Alexei was the alpha and this was his territory.
Alexei stood at exactly six feet tall, was light skinned and was built like an animal, lean and muscular. His straight hair was jet black and ended in a flurry of blood red tips that lay hidden under a heavy black jacket and a hood lined with white fur. Alexei generally kept his eyes closed unless he was angry or upset, using his enhanced hearing and smell to navigate. "Hunter, eyes forward!" Alexei turned his head slightly to the left, where Hunter sat, or rather slept. Alexei heard his pack mate wake up in a daze and groan, "What? I'm still in class? Man this *****." His green hair bounced in front of his eyes, tickling his nose and making him sneeze.
Alexei grinned, flashing his long canines and the rest of the Pack laughed quietly amongst themselves. "Alexei... would you mind keeping your cronies under control, please?" He opened his eyes slightly, their golden glow piercing the darkness of the hood like slivers of fire. The pack immediately went silent.
"Why of course, professor. We wouldn't want to disturb the lecture now would we?" His powerful voice dripped acidic sarcasm, laced with a deadly seriousness. "Right guys?" The question hung dead I'm the air for a few heartbeats.
When no response came, he turned his head sharply, his piercing eyes fully open. "Right?!" His voice boomed throughout the room like thunder and a collection of nervous, 'yes sir, yes alpha' rang out quietly. He closed his eyes again and said, "All yours, professor."
Just bear with it guys, its the last class of the day.
He heard another person's voice flutter into his thoughts. but, alpha, it was Leiks, one of the betas. its snowing... we want to go out.
He growled slightly, And you think I don't? You know how this works, Leiks.
He heard her whimper slightly in submission, backing out of his thoughts. She fidgeted in her seat in the back row, looking out the window at the puffy white flakes cascading down around the school. Her blonde hair ended in purple curls that bounced around her chest. She was shorter, around five foot four inches tall, and was one of the three betas in Alexei's pack. The other two were the twins, Ruby and Sapphire, whose hair was black and ended in red and blue respectively. They rarely spoke to others out loud, keeping their thoughts to themselves. The other four were all deltas or omegas.
Alexei caught a hint of something in the air, it smelled like a sweet musk mixed with crisp apples. The smell sent a tingle up and down his spine for a few moments before settling. He growled softly in his throat, grinning.
Smell something, alpha?, it was Leiks.
Yeah... maybe...
He grinned and felt warm all over, however more impatient to get outside.
Professor Thompson continued with his lecture on mythology, talking about the classic horror creatures like vampires and werewolves. He focused awfully ******* the latter, going on and on about lycanthropy and the horrible nature of werewolves.
Alexei bared his fangs in a silent growl, gripping the edge of his desk hard enough to make it creak in dismay. What does he know.... he hasn't been through it.... he hasn't seen his friends die in front of him… An image flashed before his eyes of a bloodied white wolf lying before him, whimpering helplessly as its crimson blood steamed against the snow. His anger lasted only a second before a hand tenderly gripped his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he gasped slightly. He snapped his gaze over his shoulder at the pack, their eyes wide and locked on him, emanating dread. The hand belonged to Flora, the youngest member of the pack at 17. Her eyes were full of innocent fear as she looked at her enraged alpha. He nodded and she let go of his shoulder. Alexei turned and shut his eyes again, his good mood soured for now. He took a deep breath and sighed, wishing for that scent again. Five more minutes...
Those five minutes drug on like a glacier, the professor's words trailing off into the distance as he switched topics. Can he go any slower?
Don't jinx us, alpha, sir. came Flora's response.
You don't have to call me sir, Flora. We're a family.
The wolves stayed silent for the rest of the class, listening halfheartedly to the professor. "As you all know, this is the last day of school until January. I hope you all have some plans, some family to go see."
He paused for a moment and then: "Never. Ever. Forget. There is a grain of truth in every myth." The professor was looking directly at Alexei, who cringed slightly. He could feel the teacher's eyes boring into his soul. The bell finally rang, and Alexei was the first one out, quickly followed by the scrambling pack. They wound through hallways and double doors until they felt the tingle of cold touch their skin. They trailed along behind their leader and burst out the doors, welcoming the frigid air and the soft snowfall they had waited all year for. They hooted and howled giddily, their faces covered in goofy grins and awestruck eyes as they pushed past Alexei and dove into the snow with the other students. Alexei stood there, looking for what he had smelled earlier, for him it was more important than the snow. He scanned the horizon, eyes open wide and searching relentlessly. After a moment, he saw his target, leaning against a tree on the far end of the schoolyard, her fiery hair waving gracefully in the wind. "Jenna."
She winked at him and gestured to her right, where an open forest lay uninhabited. He nodded slightly and made his way down the steps, his heart pounding harder and harder in his chest.
I'll be back soon... Leiks you're in charge.
You okay, alpha, sir? Flora always worried for her alpha.
Yeah, I just need a walk is all.
But... Leiks put a hand on Flora's shoulder and shook her head.
Alexei walked to the edge of the schoolyard and saw that Jenna was already in the woods. Glancing back at the pack, he grinned like a Cheshire cat and chased after her.
They wound through the trees, picking up speed and tossing their heavy jackets away.
Come catch me, big boy. she taunted.
I intend to.
He watched her every graceful move, following relentlessly until he had her. He wrapped his arms around her in a tackle and they rolled, laughing all the while until they came to a halt. Alexei was on top of Jenna, straddling her legs and breathing heavily with her. She closed her eyes and grinned wide, her chest heaving. The air was freezing cold but they couldn't feel it as he leaned in and kissed her deeply, entwining his fingers into her hair. She kissed back, biting his lip in the way she knew would make him weak. She felt his muscles quiver and she took the opportunity to push him onto his back and claim dominance over him by straddling him. She smelled amazing, the musk of her animal side mixed with her perfume drove Alexei crazy.
He slid his hand under her shirt and felt the curves of her slender body press against him as she gasped. She pulled away from the kiss, a grin on her face, "Not yet, ***. There's time for that later."
"I've missed you, kitten."
She growled softly, "you best stop that while you're ahead, sweetheart." She grinned wider and kneaded her claws into his chest. Alexei called her 'kitten' because of her fondness towards cats, specifically kittens.
"Are the others here too?" He pushed her up off of him and stood up himself, closing his eyes in the process. The others were Jenna's friends who had left with her a year ago.
"Mmmhmm. They got here shortly before I did. They're already at the hideout."
Alexei nodded, "We'll be there shortly. Do you want to come with us for the time being?" They began walking back to the schoolyard, grabbing their jackets on the way.
She giggled, "I suppose I should, so they can get used to having two alphas around." Her eyes twinkled as she said it.
Alexei grinned, "I thought it wasn't for another year! Congratulations!"
"They pushed it up since I've been moving up so fast." Jenna had gone to a Lycan Academy farther north, in Canada. There, wolves would be trained to become better leaders or soldiers, depending on their rank. Jenna had shown great promise immediately and was put into higher groups and classes.
The schoolyard soon came into view, and Alexei's pack was still playing in the snow, throwing snowballs and just rolling around in the stuff among the other high schoolers. He whistled a little tune and each of the pack members looked directly at him, going wide eyed when they saw Jenna. They rushed over as fast as they could and tackled her with hugs. "You're back!"
Jenna struggled to get up as a dog pile ensued. Alexei's wild laugh mixed with the cacophony of greetings as Jenna squirmed out. Flora stood behind Alexei, this new person's presence terrifying to her. As the pack got untangled from each other, Jenna walked up to Alexei and Flora, who hid behind him like a cowering pup. Jenna looked at her, "Hey. I'm Jenna, me and Alexei are old friends."
Flora whimpered quietly but peeked out enough so she could get a good look at Jenna. Alexei turned to the pack, saying, "We're going back to the hideout. There's some old friends waiting there for us."

Chapter 2
The pack carried on as usual, sauntering on down the sidewalk leading further into the woods with Jenna, Alexei and Flora following close behind.
"How old is she?" Asked Jenna.
"I'm seventeen. This is my first year as-..." she trailed off, still unsure of herself.
"As a Lycan?" Flora nodded softly.
"You know about us?" Asked Flora, bewildered.
Jenna giggled a little, letting flora get a good look at her canines, which extended down to her lower teeth. "I'm one of you."
Flora looked at her, confused. "But you don't smell like them. You smell different."
Jenna glanced at Alexei, who was still strolling alongside them with his eyes closed as usual. "You can tell her, Kitten."
Jenna punched him in the shoulder with a loud thud that would have left any normal person cringing, but Alexei just shrugged it off. He's definitely a lot stronger than I remember.
She turned to Flora, "I'm an alpha. Like Alexei. Each alpha has a different scent."
Flora gazed at her with newfound wonder and fear. Jenna saw this and said, "Don't worry, Flora. I only bite my prey. You're not prey, are you?"
Flora grinned a little, "Of course not."
They had reached a little clearing with ten trees aligned in a perfect circle around a massive evergreen that towered roughly sixty feet tall, casting a massive shadow underneath it. The pack had named it the Forever Tree, with its many years to come. At the base of the ten trees were empty backpacks covered in snow, each one a different style and color. The pack gathered under the Forever Tree and looked at Alexei with a certain desire clear on their faces.
Alexei grinned and said, "Go wild, guys."
"Finally!" The pack began to transform, fur popping out of their skin in a wave of softness, their faces elongating into muzzles and their fangs revealing themselves in their entirety. Their majestic tails struggled to get free from the jackets and pants that surrounded the wolves. They shook the clothes from their bodies, piling them up in individual piles before taking them to the backpacks under the trees. Each one expertly placed their clothes into the bag and then sat patiently next to their trees as the two alphas and Flora watched. Once each wolf was finished, Alexei whistled sharply and they grabbed their bags by the carry handle and formed a line in front of him. Alexei had modified each bag to fit as a harness around the wolves, making the transport that much easier. He helped each one of his pack mates with their bag and they in turn took shelter under the Forever tree. Once everyone was there, Alexei waved them off and they took off into the woods.
"Flora, grab your bag so it doesn't get lost out here."
"Yes, alpha, sir." She ran to grab her bag from the last tree. Alexei and Jenna casually followed, "You don't have to call me sir, Flora. Remember? We're a family."
They followed the paw prints in the snow up a winding path which led to an old cabin, seemingly forgotten out here. The smell of wolf musk was heavy in the air as they approached. The cabin rested on the top of a tall hill, with a winding staircase leading up to the wraparound porch and the two story cabin itself. All the wolves were waiting, already mingled in with each other on the porch. Jenna's pack was roughly five wolves, mostly female. As all wolves find out eventually, whatever modifications they do to their human body, such as tattoos or hair dyes, crosses over to their wolf body. Some used this trick as a way to make themselves unique, or to show a pack allegiance. Alexei's pack were unique in their markings, each one having their hair dyed and having a wolf paw surrounded by a crescent moon. Jenna's pack was similar, though theirs was a long fang piercing a heart.
As they got closer, Jenna's wolves began to bark happily, welcoming their alphas. Jenna's betas were waiting at the base of the stairs, three grey females named Ginger, Lexi, and Anna.
Alex! We're so happy to see you! called Anna, one of Alexei's oldest friends.
"I've missed you guys too, you didn't have to wait down here for us, you know. Go on and say hi to the others." He scratched each of them behind the ears and they ran up the stairs happily. "Flora, you can wolf out now, I'll take care of your stuff."
She looked gratefully at her alpha and shifted into her wolf form, a sleek white, unmarked unlike the others. She ran up the stairs as Alexei gathered her clothes into the bag. Jenna took his hand once he'd finished and they walked up the stairs together, joining the wolves on the porch.
Alexei unlocked the front door and let the wolves into the spacious interior, with a mix of dog beds and couches in the main living area surrounding a large television. The kitchen had been recently stocked by Alexei, the freezer full of uncooked meats of all kinds. Alexei's wolves all gripped the release clip on their harnesses with their teeth and let their bags fall to their side, lining them against the wall near the door. Jenna watched this unfold as her own pack dragged in their own heavy bags from outside, bulky and awkward to carry in wolf form.
"I see you've been busy, Alex."
"I have extras in the storage room upstairs, if you guys are interested."
Her wolves whimpered pleadingly in response, the last one pulling the door closed behind her with a leather strap hanging from the handle.
Alexei turned to Leiks, who was halfway up the stairs already. "You know where they are right?" The black wolf nodded, her necklaces clinking slightly as she padded up the stairs. Everyone began settling down onto the couches and beds and Leiks came back down with five bags for Jenna's wolves.
The snow had begun to fall harder and there was a fresh blanket covering the tracks leading to the cabin. They were watching Balto, one of their favorite movies, when Alexei snapped his head towards the door, eyes open and glowing. He paused the movie and the wolves' attention was now on him as he looked out the window. He swore under his breath and cl
will edit more in soon
Julia Quizon Oct 2014
A poet is the cracked spine of your favorite novel. As you begin to peer inside, words fly out from every direction. Sentences you can't make out and phrases you can't even begin to recognize. His mind is a dusty dictionary of all sorts.

A poet resembles the tide that rises and falls just as your heartbeat does with every syllable he breathes out. Corals scrape your legs and fish nip at your feet yet you linger in the water.

A poet is a pastel picture frame. Amazing how 4 corners can freeze the sparkles in your eyes and the grin on your lips. Feelings do not last forever so we tend to keep anger, sadness, joy & love sealed in glass, sitting on our night stand.

His mind is a factory.
Gears & wheels working late night shifts, making sure all periods and commas are in place.

You see
Poets are
Tear jerkers
Risk takers
Shape shifters
and
Heart breakers
When things are as they seem to be
they seem not to be to me
and that's almost Shakespeare, but
he isn't here and
so it's not.

I have a lot of time for
dead poets
they speak to me in words
they have written
in books that I borrow,
words
filled with love, with horror,
with sorrow
with pathos
with yearning
almost as if their
'lights'
are still burning

('lights') courtesy
of the pirate within me.

She,
as you may know
watches over me
as I grow

I think maturity's
approaching me
so
I'll wait and see
what happens.
Big Virge Aug 2020
In These Days And Times...
It’s Getting HARD To Find...

People On Whom...
You Can TRULY RELY... !!!!!

Because of The Mood...
That’s Now Defining Life... !!!

COMPULSORY Orders...
To... PROTECT Borders... !!!

CONTROLS For Souls.....
Now LOSING HOPE... !!!

Due To LOSING Their Jobs...
And... RISING Costs... !!!!!

So What Have We Got... ???
A... CORONA ROT... !!!

That’s TRULY SHOCKED...
And CLEARLY ROCKED...

The Lives of... MANY...
That Are Now UNSTEADY... !!!

In THESE Days And Times...
It’s Now... HARD To Find...

... TRUE Peace of Mind...

Which Is Why I Write Rhymes...
To... STOP My Brain...
From... Going INSANE...
In These CRAZY DAYS... !!!!!

Because Its All A Haze...
And Now The Type of Maze...

That May Well Leave Some...
Finding Themselves STUCK...
With NO Place To RUN... !!!

It’s... FAR FROM FUN...
Watching Governments...
Now DESTROY Freedoms... !!!

Because It Now Seems...
That They Want REGIMES...
That ALLOW Their Teams...
To DICTATE What’s Seen...
And... WHO Can Speak... !!!

But In Truth Isn’t That...
How Its... ALWAYS BEEN... !!!

Within Their So Called... “ Societies “...
So Now Theories... About CONSPIRACIES...
Are Those That Feed What MANY BELIEVE...

But The Sheople’ OUTNUMBER...
Those Who Refuse To Play The Roles...
of... DUMB And DUMBER... !!!

When It Comes To The Vibes...
of These Days And Times...
Where Racism IGNITES...
Like... DYNAMITE... !!!

And Is Causing FIGHTS...
All Because of Black Lives...
That Apparently MATTER...
Once They Have... DIED... ?!?

So Now There Are Countries...
That Are... FAR And WIDE... !!!!!

Where The Race Discussion...
Is... Reaching Minds...
Who Preferred To Stay Blind...
To How Ignorance Functions...
And STILL Affects Lives...

WAY BEYOND Police Lines... !!!!!

It’s... ALWAYS BEEN...
What Black People Have Seen...

But Suddenly... APPARENTLY...
It Requires MORE TALK...
Than... EVER BEFORE... ?!?

But In ALL HONESTY...
It’s Beginning To BORE... !!!

ALL This TALK of CHANGE...
From... FAMOUS Names...

Who’ve Played The Game...
of... Waiting For A Train...
Or... BANDWAGONS...
For Them To JUMP ON... !!!

When They’ve Been...
... " Playing Along "...
To Get To... The TOP...

of These Industries...
Where Racism BREATHES...
Quite... EASILY...................... !!!

As LONG As THEY...
Were RECEIVING MONEY... !!!

There’s MUCH HYPOCRISY...
In Times Like These... !!!

So People Should Read...
... BETWEEN The Lines... !!!

BEFORE They Find Themselves ALIGNED...
With The Types of... Figures...
Who Are Really... SHAPE SHIFTERS... !!!!!

Or In Other Words... GRIFTERS...
Who Are Known To Be TRICKSTERS... !!!

And... Societal WINNERS...
Who Are The WORST Kind of SINNERS... !!!

Sitting At... DINNERS...
With The Type of Thinkers...
Who Prefer To Wear BLINKERS...

Than To SEE THE TRUTH...
About... RACIST Moves...

And The Type of ISSUES...
That Now... Confuse... ?!?

That Are Fuelling DARK MOODS... !!!
It’s A... " WHOLE NEW WORLD "...
That Now... UNFURLS... !?!

And Has REARRANGED...
How The Game of Life...
Will Now Be... Played... !!!

Which Is Why I Find...
Myself Inclined...
To Sit And Write Rhymes...

About What Life’s Now Like...

In....

“These Days And Times”....
There's so much to say about them now, hence the poem....
David Beresford Jul 2010
The opus begins in a tentative way
Each character playing their signature phrase
With gesture, with posture, with rhythm and grace
The dancers then enter the stage.

The conductors baton, Imposing control
Directing the tempo and pace
Blues jazz folk rock, rap and rounds
The singers are finding a voice.

The orators speak, the actors declaim
Crafted prose flows from their lips
While jesters and. punsters, irrepressible funsters
Are gagging and cracking their quips.


The master of ceremonies calls all the spots
He hopes the production will gell
The shifters and movers, and technical groovers
Do their jobs amazingly well.


The instruments thunder, brass blares, and strings soar
Drums are the loudest by far
Then silence descends, a pause, the applause
That’s all folks, lets go to the bar.
Written at Share Music holiday/course of music & dance for disabled people
Danielle Rose Jun 2013
I am lost in a space I cant claim
with shape shifters playing some twisted little game
and I have been pawned into the unknown
Far from any sort of counsel
With silent watchers eyeing my back
Sizing me up to see what I lack
As if I've been put to a test
I cant tell if I've been granted some sort of pass or sentence
As I cling to the fringes of my past
Holding onto the false security I never truly had
and love is lost in midst of this war
Is it myself or someone else trying to settle some score?
Is this heaven's gate or the fires of hell?
What's one without the other?
My skin bloats and swells
As the sea lightly salts my skin
Will I be eaten alive or am I learning to swim?
The question is where I'll go from here
Does the path lead to clarity or am I forever caged in confusion?
Moonsocket Oct 2016
Outskirts Denver
highway panic
Road pac man

Find those walls kid's
it's past time
Four should do
but the roof is optional

Pull in
one car
Three puddles

No accountability here
no sane mind
No innocent persuasion

Red light haven
Named panorama
shape shifters
Cracked blinds
cancelled glances
One room
infinite timelines
Leave ours with the others
She wore a fur coat
Made of a lame prophet
'Cause she was blind.

Carried my weight on her shoulders
I suggested she open her eyes
The rest, I had memorized.
So At least when I died
She was always on my mind.

I was a terrible navigator
In the court of god, convicted sinner.
She had a hunger for shape shifters
I fed her.

Soon as the car started,
we parked it.
Leaned the seats back, fogged the doors
I stared at her collarbone
We didn't go far.

Who could have predicted
Her body in a Broken mirror
I was her seer for two years
Shame I couldn't see her

This all could of been different.
Shepard said to lamb
Follow the dog, He knows the road
figured god assumed
My soul was cold
Her soul was coal that warmed the home.
The hearth, the meat, the lame, the blind.
The Golden brown, leaves outside.
The autumn trees like Coffeeshops
call out to me

She Hollows out our her dowry
pollen spread like a dandelion.
Polluted whole cities with seeds

Memories and libraries
The chalk outlines in my mind
All that was left of these things.

So whether you fall or fly
Girl, I'll be singing

If nobody listens, I'll paint the clouds.
If no stare is lifted, I'll shake the ground.
If everyones sleeping,
I'll give them something to dream about.

If nobody sees it, We already lived
a life worth dreaming
so who gives
a **** who pays attention.

Just let the lame guide the blind.
Just let the lame guide the blind
Just let the lame guide the blind
Keith Ren Aug 2010
The plan-tackle Wretcheds
The treat-splintered Hodes
The monkey Non-lifters
That seize oft the holes

For them, did I back-break
For them, did I glean
To fill face-less Shifters
And grifting Untweens

Soon settle my Upstakes
Soon twiddle my Oughts
I less waste my Enjeans
I less waste my thoughts

No longer line Sprockets
To satsply their greed
I've lit my own rocket, now
I'll grow my own Need
Classy J Oct 2016
Going through a town that is not my own, fighting against strange monsters and inter-dimensional demons that can turn people to stone. A places full of mysteries, trying to decipher this places history, no time to get all jittery. People are not what they seem, who to trust, who do we allow on our team? Journals and zodiac circles, did the weirdness bring forth these nocturnal spiritual hurdles? Brought here not by choice, just kids with a ploy for adults to hear their voices. There's Dipper, the adventurous curious kind, who wants answers so bad, he makes a deal which leaves him unable to control his body and mind. Then you have Mabel, a sporadic sort with a big heart, who likes art and going with the girls to a boy band concert. Together they're known as the pines twins, who discover crazy and unexplainable things.

Who knew just another boring trip would turn into this, and bring all these interesting relationships? You got Soos, Wendy, Grunkle Stan, Gideon, and later Grunkle Ford, who each hold their own cards. There is a lot to do here, unlike the sign coming into town that says there is nothing to see here. You got shape shifters, Bill Cypher's, Zombies, Gnomes, without the journals it would've been hard walking in against the unknown. Is life really just a hologram, just an illusion, are we just pawns for the universe's amusement? Well wubba lubba dub dub, grab a glass and join the club and while you're at it you can help yourself to some grub. I don't know what the future holds, but I refuse to fold, and waste my time fighting over gold. What sights can I next explore, live for the moment by letting it loose on the dance floor.

Not going to hold any more grudges, not going to let the past keep me on crutches, it's just a part of life to take a couple punches. Why can't we do science and also have some mindless wacky fun, we got to make the most of this run. Nobody exists on purpose, you just have to look beyond the surface, stay determined and keep your eye on target. Nobody belongs anywhere but everywhere, you don't have to prove yourself by killing some multi-bear. Everyone is going to die one day, you have a choice for how you want your life to be portrayed. Come on down and watch some ducktective on TV with me, let's explore the sea on the Stan-o-war 2, because you're never too old; even if you're a retiree.
spysgrandson Mar 2017
he shoulders shame
carrying the weight of the dead,
slung over him

partnering with gravity,
these memory moguls slow him down
though he keeps trudging

when one drops, another
takes his place -- first his father, then
a brother, stillborn

not half the weight of a stone,
yet his carcass bends his back
like any full grown beast

for he did not weep
with his mother when its blue soul
was yanked from her womb

nor did he shed a tear
when his father's heart gave out
a billion beats too soon

when he forgets his sins as son  
he recalls another one--the boy he
slew on a brown river's bank;

floating still in the Mekong, riddled
with the rifle's rabid rounds, he often catches
a ride in memory's stream

leading a relay team of shame shifters
he carries with him every step, though
the world sees him walk alone

— The End —