Look at this shit!

Shit...

24 notes

Been Gone (New Wings)

And as Icarus rose from the water,
the people praised his return.
They hoped he had “learned”.

He did not want to see his father
- he was dead to him -
Icarus turned his attention
to making a life for himself.

After months of hard work,
he realised that pushing forward
- no matter how hard -
still kept you grounded.

And that day, Icarus mounted the cliff-side
again, with new wings at his back.

What came next was all it needed to be -
poetic.

Filed under poetry poem writing creative writing lit literature verse icarus daedalus i'm baaaaaaaack Jesse Norton

6 notes

Secrets of the Historian’s Commissioner

And as he took his blade from the throat of the felled the leader,
he asked if he had words for his last breaths.

"I do. You may think of me as some villain, I cannot change that now. Just know - it is the larger wheel that steers the smaller."

It was nothing but a snake’s venom, still spitting poison as it’s head is severed.
But venom is true.

Filed under poetry poem lit writing verse literature creative writing free verse dialogue death assassination history text

4 notes

Something Timeless

We were on that beautiful market road,
the one lined with trees, speckled in light.
We turned off and down the alley that took us home,
and that’s when you put my hand in yours
- for the first time -

- I smiled -
But when my eyes opened, there were tears in them.
My hand was still in yours, but it meant something new.
Something so far away.

It was daylight and your eyes were as sad as mine.
You had just taken my hand and already,
it was time to say goodbye.

The heartache was enlightening,
I finally understood what it meant to be timeless.
My mouth opened and my tears were forced to leap my smile.
I laughed and my sobs drowned in it.
I smiled.

- And just like that, I was back -
We emerged from the alley, still hand in hand
and headed home. I had finally found eternal peace.
Because I know now, it will always be you and I
walking down that beautiful market road,
the one lined with trees of light.

Filed under poetry poem verse writing love timeless something for you music lit literature creative writing time travel

2 notes

What It Means To Be (A Favourite Colour)

It was a rain that reigned over streets
of young women whose collective
favourite colour was just that,
rain over streets.

So were they not just
as guilty as he who once asked
what their favourite colour was and what it meant
to them.
He who once asked -
‘cause he wanted to know what it meant
to be them.

Maybe they didn’t even know
maybe they just said grey or a darker shade
of blue.
But he knew, in those cobble stone streets
he knew that they all wandered them late at night
because they wanted it and their favourite colour
was just that.

So he reigned over the streets
at night, he brought colour
to meaning and meaning well.
He brought meaning to the colour
that he brought to the streets.

His name was Jack
their collective name was Jane.
His favourite colour was blood over rain
over streets -
and his favourite sound was rip,
for it sounded like please.

Filed under poem poetry writing lit literature creative writing fiction verse free verse jack the ripper lover of women favourite colour music

788 notes

thedailydoodles:

"The Demon Within"
The Man lies in his bed, unable to sleep,As an empty uneasy feeling begins to creep.His knees feel hollow, his body lighter than airA vacuous void of childlike regret and despair.
The sensation feels wrong, but he focuses on it stillEmptiness spreading, removing his worries and will.He tries to fight back, but he can’t move a limb.All he can do is watch while something takes over him.
As the thoughts flood his mind, and become all that he seesHe thinks “Those thoughts aren’t my own; they aren’t really me!”But the hollowness takes over, and an Entity steps in…Filling up the emptiness where his self had once been. 
The body now a prison that he can no longer controlThe Man remains trapped forever, along with his soul.
(Starring Angel Estrada from Poeticallyprofound.tumblr.com!)
Wanna appear in your very own Daily Doodle?  CLICK HERE!FAQ  TWITTER  FACEBOOK  SOCIETY6

Uncanny relationship to one of my earliest poems “The Devil In Me”

thedailydoodles:

"The Demon Within"

The Man lies in his bed, unable to sleep,
As an empty uneasy feeling begins to creep.
His knees feel hollow, his body lighter than air
A vacuous void of childlike regret and despair.

The sensation feels wrong, but he focuses on it still
Emptiness spreading, removing his worries and will.
He tries to fight back, but he can’t move a limb.
All he can do is watch while something takes over him.

As the thoughts flood his mind, and become all that he sees
He thinks “Those thoughts aren’t my own; they aren’t really me!”
But the hollowness takes over, and an Entity steps in…
Filling up the emptiness where his self had once been. 

The body now a prison that he can no longer control
The Man remains trapped forever, along with his soul.

(Starring Angel Estrada from Poeticallyprofound.tumblr.com!)

Wanna appear in your very own Daily Doodle?  CLICK HERE!
FAQ  TWITTER  FACEBOOK  SOCIETY6

Uncanny relationship to one of my earliest poems “The Devil In Me”

6 notes

Yeah, That’s Why

So I killed the fucker,
and you were there for me.
Together we chopped off his hands,
his feet, pulled out his teeth,
and wrapped it all up - head separately.
Together we washed the blood off the walls,
Cleaned the glass off the floor,
and the flesh off the stove.
Together we drove 80 miles
just to dump the body.
I shovelled, you shovelled -
and covered in dirt, blood, and sweat
we sat gasping - staring at the grave we made him.
Then I looked at you, and you at me
and together we said -
“I really want some chocolate.”
And above all else, that is why you’re my friend.

Filed under poem poetry verse free verse humour writing creative writing lit literature funny death dark friends murder

5 notes

Close As Parallel Can Get - CHAPTER 3: SPATIAL COHERENCE (PART II)

*

"What do you see?"

"What do I see?"

"Yes."

Cortez looks confused “Well, I hope you don’t judge me for being too literal, but I see the stars and the moon. And… I’ve never seen them like this before. So far away from everything else. It’s amazing.”

Nebuchadnezzar smiles “You figure?”

"I do. And I think we should swim in it."

"What?"

"This sky is only like this in this one place, in this one moment, once a year - and I don’t imagine the sky is always this clear and the water this still."

"I’m ashamed to say, I don’t follow you Cortez. You want to go swimming?"

She smiles “Yes, in the sky.”
They sit in silence and she stares down the night as he looks into her -
“The water is glass, undisturbed - and it reflects the night sky. They make one another brighter as they do in day - only, in this light they give us the power to decide which is the sky and which is the river below. Don’t you want to fly with me Nebuchadnezzar? We can rearrange the sky together, but we only have this moment to do it.”

"I love you Cortez. But you’re wrong. We can have this forever."

Cortez looks scared, but she stands - never losing his eyes - and lifts her dress over her head.
She stands pale and nude above him, he rises - and together they strip him of his clothes.
All night they crash through the water, the ripples and splashes igniting in the light.

Filed under writing creative writing script script writing fiction film philosophy dialogue narration ideas poetry poetic beauty love lit CPCG

2 notes

Close As Parallel Can Get - CHAPTER 3: SPATIAL COHERENCE (PART I)

I often think about the possibility of my world overlapping with another’s. God is a lonely idea, and men are but thoughts. I wonder how I would communicate with someone who had also created everything they have ever known. Would I see them as they saw themselves, or as I wished to see them? Would everything they said be automatically translated into how I would understand it best? How could they describe to me what they saw? There are so many uncertainties - that I fear we would just pass each other by, blinded by the intersection of light.

Filed under writing creative writing script script writing philosophy film poetry narration dialogue story short story long story CPCG