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Devil's Pawn, Ch 1Devil's Pawn
"I wonder what it feels like to be dead," Karen looked up from her book.
"Why do you ask?" Jon asked with a small grin, laying his own novel aside.
"Well, no one knows. No one can know. Wouldn't it be nice to know what's gonna happen when you do die?"
Jon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh. Interesting, very interesting," he adopted a sort of pseudo-Transylvanian accent, tenting his long, dark fingers and raising an eyebrow at us. "To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious!"
"Yes, thank you Dracula," Karen's eyes turned heavenward.
Jon shrugged. "It's a damn good movie for all the bats are on strings. How 'bout you, Jim? Any burning desire to delve into the great beyond?"
I paused, unsure of how to express myself to the atheist extraordinaire across from me. "I suppose it would be nice to know," I said slowly. "But then, it's a bit, well, blasphemous, isn't it?"
Karen laughed, nipping Jon's biting, anti-religious retort in the bud. "Jim, you take everything too se
Catching FliesCatching Flies
silly little people,
in their silly little places,
with their silly little gestures,
and their silly little cares.
leaving petty comments,
making judgements with no reason,
and they just don't care!
silly little issues
raised by silly, silly people
who can't see more flies are caught
by being kind than being cruel
who are they to judge,
who am i,
who are you,
who are we to say we're better
than the other oh-so-very
silly, silly, little men?
Treat me Right
From every ill must come a gladness,
Joy upraised where sin must fall.
For all that´s lost there is a finder,
Shepherd hast´ning to the call
Of sheep once sorr´wing and forsaken,
Once blinded, lame,
Now standing tall.
And though you loved me only briefly,
passed on the other side the road,
Each Pharisee has still a stranger,
Who will stop,
Help bear the load.
Thou slime of Satan-spawn,
Thou friend, thou confidante,
Abominations thou hast acted,
No ablutions now could cure.
And damnéd souls which dog thy footsteps.
Guide thine actions Hades-bent-
These thou hast called up upon you,
Wretched creatures devil-sent.
The light of Lordly love, God´s favor,
has forever quit thine eyes,
Yet still I feel thou must be thankéd,
for making me so worldly-wise.
All these voices -
Flying through my head.
Some kind of happy,
Some say "wish I was dead."
It isn't fair, it isn't right,
Some people feel all right and others
Cry every night.
I don't care for influence,
Position or power,
But things that you don't think about
Up in your ivory tower.
My life may seem wonderful,
When compared to yours,
But that won't keep my head from
Fighting these little wars.
I don't think I'm ungrateful,
I don't think that I'm spoiled,
But sometimes I feel buried under
Life's little toils.
If guilty makes it better
Then maybe I'm just wrong,
Since I don't think that feeling worse will help
Me get along.
I have sat in this place and waited I know not how long. I have striven to remember the life I
once knew, but it slips away as inexorably as the water slips over the stones in the stream at
home. Home. I must hold on to this thought, lest I find myself not knowing of water, or life outside of this wretched path.
Yet this thing I call wretched is not. It is beautiful, so lovely, in fact, as to be almost painful. Far better to be imprisoned somewhere I can hate with ease. To both love and loathe is truly a terrible fate. Someone comes; I hear footsteps not far along the path, and, foolish though it seems, I hope. I fear this stranger will not stop, will not even see me, for very few do. And those who take note seem to see also that I am being punished, and are frightened, as I was so very long ago. I, however, did stop. I took pity, and that has been my undoing.
It's NotIt's not the lipstick gloss
that makes a kiss
the warm pulse beating through
It's not their size
but the words they whisper,
It's not the color
nor the length
nor the glint
of her hair
that makes her special
it is her smile
in the falling rain
reflecting the joy
of yet another Spring,
It's not the time
she spent getting beautiful
that makes her so
but in fact
it is the hours
she was besides my bed
when I was sick
and in fact
it is the minutes
I could hear her breathe
in my embrace
AND in fact
it is the seconds
I saw her cry
(out of happiness)
Because she's beautiful.
It's not the clothes,
nor the jewellery,
nor the colored nails,
nor the drawn-in brows,
nor the words she says
to other people,
and neither it is
It is her mind
that entertains my poems,
it is her charm
that paints my cheeks
and averts my shy eyes from her
It is her soul,
that I love.
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
The Heavenly DanceThe stars fell around us
And settled on our shoulders
As we stared into one another's eyes
And in that moment
We understood eachother
The stars then swirled anew
Creating a magnificent dress for you
And you took my hand
And led the dance
Weaving in and out of time
Like the threads connecting our minds
You told me we could never
And I believe you
SIRENNeath the woe of Ulysses' blood and toil,
A sea of heavenly-fury once awaken'd
Her gaze clad in honey’d delirium ablaze
Of such beauteous prize, he shall yield;
For her tongue hath seized mortal desire
And lo the Moons’ glory shall weep in vain!
Journey’s of madness sung with promise;
— A rising tempest hurl'd to Hades reign
Oceanic rhythms untwine love forbidden,
Breaking the mists of insatiable dreams
The Sirens call ebbed like darkness falling;
Her lust bleeding into the mythic abyss ..
His anguish bestow'd the folding tides,
Unto their lips would perish in mystery
Deeper jewel'd the haunting of his soul,
Forsaken to the ink of Orpheus' muse.
And ghostly twilight shone low and pale,
O’er the hum of those ethereal seas
Long wherest his heart shall forever sail
— Arthur Crow © 2014
You Are My AngelYou came to me in my dreams
When I was below the surface looking up at the sunlight filtering through water molecules
Your hand took mine
And you let me pull you down to lay beside me, where we looked up at everything floating by together
You came to me in my dreams
When I thought about how not worth it this life was and convinced me of otherwise
Your heart sat down beside mine
And I realized I felt alive.
FiveWhen the wind blows,
It speaks your name to me.
When I stare at the clouds,
I see your smiling face.
I watch the people passing by,
I see them wave and say hello,
And I think of you all the while.
At night I look up towards the milky way,
And I see the glowing stars,
And my eyes meet your gaze.
The grass beneath my feet
Is soft like you are to me.
The sunshine on my head
Is warm like your heart.
Everything I do
Makes me think of you.
In everything I see,
You're looking back at me.
In all that I say and feel,
I know you'll always love me still.
For you are my everything,
And my everything is you.
The Origins Of The Ice Queen (Story)
As the Duke slammed into the cold, hard ground, Elsa knew that she had only made the accusations worse. As the fear began to consume her she ran out of the castle's huge, wooden gates, her breath increasing in speed and intensity the whole time. She heard a familiar voice shout after her. "Elsa! Wait!" It was her sister Anna. She was 2 years younger than Elsa and had a beautiful young face with a rosy complexion and had strawberry blonde hair with a white highlight in it. She wore a green and black royal gown with a flowery pattern over the torso. It was perfect for the coronation that had taken place that day. However, it was not so perfect for chasing the new Queen. "Elsa please! Stop!" Anna shouted at her terrified sister. Elsa started to sprint even faster now, she flicked her wrist and created an icy path in an attempt to slow down her ever worrying sister. Anna slipped and fell onto her behind. She let out a small yelp as she sat, stunned for a moment. She looked up and saw Elsa
SixI am weak
And I am cold.
You are strong
And you are warm.
I am incomplete,
But with you
I'm made whole.
I am dirty
And covered in mud.
You are clean
And your heart is pure.
What is my world
If it doesn't include you?
I am harsh
And I am rough.
You are gentle
And you are smooth.
Without your love
I am nothing,
And life has no worth.
I am broken
And I am bent.
You are right
And you are true.
And this is why I'm loving you:
You're the beautiful one
Between us two.
My LibraryIn this place I can be fearless,
Here, alone, I am complete.
Fiends of hell and guardian Angels
Of Lords and libertines replete.
In this place are friends full-faithful,
Beauties which shall never fade.
The power-mad, the would-be heroes,
Dance in endless cavalcade.
In this place I find my answers,
Lovers who shall never leave.
Inspiration, flights of fancy,
Gems which genius wordsmiths weave.
In this place I 'suage my sorrows,
Here I feel I am reborn.
In books I live so many lifetimes,
My soul with artistry adorned.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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