Fictional Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Short stories and chapters from books and novels
xXShatteredHeartXx
Poem Published
12th Jul 2014 5:32am
12th Jul 2014 5:32am
Another Lost Soul Chapter 1
Sorry it took me a while to share it with y'all. I've been so busy with band camp and other stuff but here it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember the day that I first picked up a knife. It was my first day at a new school. I was wearing my Guns and Roses t-shirt, skinny jeans and my black converse. I didn't that it would change my life. When I got to the front office to get my schedule, the secretary nearly choked on her morning coffee then quickly recovered.
"Can I help you?"
"Umm... Yes, I'm Amaris...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember the day that I first picked up a knife. It was my first day at a new school. I was wearing my Guns and Roses t-shirt, skinny jeans and my black converse. I didn't that it would change my life. When I got to the front office to get my schedule, the secretary nearly choked on her morning coffee then quickly recovered.
"Can I help you?"
"Umm... Yes, I'm Amaris...
61 reads
1 Comment
Pishashee
Poem Published
11th Jul 2014 4:36am
11th Jul 2014 4:36am
Smoke Charged Soap Bubbles
Nonchalantly and lovely
as a gleam of enchantment,
I sit and wait for answers;
where is this pocket of dreams
I’ve chanted into existence
as my son of temperance
perchance to place a dying breath.
There was a mechanical foot,
and a baby, with stacks of hair
that had already been highlighted;
reluctantly it lingers in loveliness
with fluttered lips as my heart
cries out in radiance to this
magical iridescence ― why the adoring fall.
as a gleam of enchantment,
I sit and wait for answers;
where is this pocket of dreams
I’ve chanted into existence
as my son of temperance
perchance to place a dying breath.
There was a mechanical foot,
and a baby, with stacks of hair
that had already been highlighted;
reluctantly it lingers in loveliness
with fluttered lips as my heart
cries out in radiance to this
magical iridescence ― why the adoring fall.
100 reads
13 Comments
Pishashee
Poem Published
8th Jul 2014 3:31pm
8th Jul 2014 3:31pm
Summer's Sonnet
Let winter’s face not
fall the brightness
in thine sunshine
of summer's shade,
There is a bolt
I treasure still
with sweetness
in vials of memory,
Where counts not
shame for penance paid
in debt to all, and all
eternities instill me,
My heart worn well
and ten times more,
hence, let it be known,
for it makes me happy, ...
fall the brightness
in thine sunshine
of summer's shade,
There is a bolt
I treasure still
with sweetness
in vials of memory,
Where counts not
shame for penance paid
in debt to all, and all
eternities instill me,
My heart worn well
and ten times more,
hence, let it be known,
for it makes me happy, ...
76 reads
10 Comments
snugglebuck
Poem Published
8th Jul 2014 9:20am
8th Jul 2014 9:20am
MY FIRST NATIONAL NUDE DAY
I’ll never forget my first National Nude Day.
I decided to spend it on it by the Mediterranean Sea, on France’s Cap d'Agde beach. Though I didn’t come ogle, I couldn’t help but watch the variations of humanity walk by. Old and young, short and tall, fit and not so fit, it was joy to watch the naked human parade walk by.
One person caught my interest, was this very small frail old gentleman. Wearing a large straw hat, his skin was well tanned and wrinkled. He walked so slow, each step seemed as if it may be his last. Every now and then he’d pause, take a rest, and look...
I decided to spend it on it by the Mediterranean Sea, on France’s Cap d'Agde beach. Though I didn’t come ogle, I couldn’t help but watch the variations of humanity walk by. Old and young, short and tall, fit and not so fit, it was joy to watch the naked human parade walk by.
One person caught my interest, was this very small frail old gentleman. Wearing a large straw hat, his skin was well tanned and wrinkled. He walked so slow, each step seemed as if it may be his last. Every now and then he’d pause, take a rest, and look...
54 reads
thewatcher33
Poem Published
8th Jul 2014 1:53am
8th Jul 2014 1:53am
AfterGlow - An Erotic Short Story
202 reads
0 Comments
mtj9198
Poem Published
7th Jul 2014 4:55am
7th Jul 2014 4:55am
Saudade
Wisps of smoke unfurl slowly from the smoldering incense, smelling of earth and damp wood. A mug of my favorite tea sits close by, warm and inviting. The weak light from the evening sky hardly penetrates the curtains, drawn tightly to prevent such an unwanted invasion. Once again, I am alone.
Thoughts of you swirl ceaselessly through my mind. I remember how your lips tasted, and the way your tongue danced with mine in perfect rhythm. My face flushes crimson as I recall the way your hands felt against my skin, your fingertips following the curves of my body. Your voice was soft and...
Thoughts of you swirl ceaselessly through my mind. I remember how your lips tasted, and the way your tongue danced with mine in perfect rhythm. My face flushes crimson as I recall the way your hands felt against my skin, your fingertips following the curves of my body. Your voice was soft and...
53 reads
2 Comments
Spanker
Poem Published
6th Jul 2014 11:11am
6th Jul 2014 11:11am
From deep within hung-over stubble
Early one icy morning, so cold you could see breath. Unshaven, hung over, I crossed the tracks and made my way to the platform. I was tired and thinking of sleep. Wind ripped through, and a few early workers hurried for the warmth of carriages. I took my usual seat, front left but not in the corner. As I reached for the book in my bag, I noticed a pair of stilettos and an attractive young lady. She sat directly opposite, and I opened my book. I thought she looked familiar.
She smiled demurely and proceeded to slowly open her legs. Beneath her short office skirt, a pouty pristine...
She smiled demurely and proceeded to slowly open her legs. Beneath her short office skirt, a pouty pristine...
64 reads
2 Comments
MidnightXDawn
Wynter-frost
Wynter-frost
Poem Published
5th Jul 2014 9:30pm
5th Jul 2014 9:30pm
Silence of the Bells
Prologue
Prologue
Temptation has been brought upon me. Gabriel has warned me a many times against such feelings and the consequences. The thoughts are the worst though, nothing can compare to wanting the things that tempt you the most. Needing them. Many years have passed without them but now they bombard me at every waking hour. Crawling through the crevasses of my mind rampaging through my hopes and dreams.
“Call the tasks.” The voices called out.
At that moment they popped into my head and called, no screamed to me.
Michael was close. Closer than he usually liked...
Prologue
Temptation has been brought upon me. Gabriel has warned me a many times against such feelings and the consequences. The thoughts are the worst though, nothing can compare to wanting the things that tempt you the most. Needing them. Many years have passed without them but now they bombard me at every waking hour. Crawling through the crevasses of my mind rampaging through my hopes and dreams.
“Call the tasks.” The voices called out.
At that moment they popped into my head and called, no screamed to me.
Michael was close. Closer than he usually liked...
46 reads
1 Comment
Pishashee
Poem Published
3rd Jul 2014 10:31am
3rd Jul 2014 10:31am
The Garden Flame
There was a man looking
through a flower that he
had placed upon his face;
the flower was as clear as flame,
There was a mark in his eye
where an Iris kept the breadth
of reality; it made me think
as the fireflies were dancing,
There are no empty words
beneath the bitter glow;
place them into the ground
with breaks,
as vast as the deep unknown,
Fallen crests; I avail thee not
in frozen solstice of the snow,
in golden stems and alters torn;
take there withered eternal flame ...
through a flower that he
had placed upon his face;
the flower was as clear as flame,
There was a mark in his eye
where an Iris kept the breadth
of reality; it made me think
as the fireflies were dancing,
There are no empty words
beneath the bitter glow;
place them into the ground
with breaks,
as vast as the deep unknown,
Fallen crests; I avail thee not
in frozen solstice of the snow,
in golden stems and alters torn;
take there withered eternal flame ...
85 reads
14 Comments
18alaine
Poem Published
2nd Jul 2014 10:14pm
2nd Jul 2014 10:14pm
The Last Day
I knew it was the end.
She was going to leave me.
Abandon me in this lifeless world.
We had gotten into a fight the night before.
It wasn't even important now that I think about it.
She fell asleep in the hospital bed that was in the living room.
I was awake thinking about what I had said.
I started to cry.
I went to her bed and laid next to her holding her.
I finally fell asleep after I told her I was sorry and I loved her.
The next morning at 10:15am I woke to my father saying her name over and over.
Telling her to wake up. I looked up...
She was going to leave me.
Abandon me in this lifeless world.
We had gotten into a fight the night before.
It wasn't even important now that I think about it.
She fell asleep in the hospital bed that was in the living room.
I was awake thinking about what I had said.
I started to cry.
I went to her bed and laid next to her holding her.
I finally fell asleep after I told her I was sorry and I loved her.
The next morning at 10:15am I woke to my father saying her name over and over.
Telling her to wake up. I looked up...
66 reads
2 Comments
ArtisticaDreamer
Poem Published
28th Jun 2014 5:40pm
28th Jun 2014 5:40pm
Your Dream
-Your Dream-
A prophetess, I can read your dreams,
You don't have to say anything.
I can literally see you at the keys.
Knowing you aren't Stevie, because you can "see" me.
It's iconic that your "Being" needs to please.
Interpreting what you mean, it's clearly your dream.
Ah to dream, but then to see things come true.
A different situation this clearly thrills you.
See your "Being" is in my dream with me.
Someone to hold, knowing she gold and you got her.
Got her honest, just being yourself.
Staid, bold with...
A prophetess, I can read your dreams,
You don't have to say anything.
I can literally see you at the keys.
Knowing you aren't Stevie, because you can "see" me.
It's iconic that your "Being" needs to please.
Interpreting what you mean, it's clearly your dream.
Ah to dream, but then to see things come true.
A different situation this clearly thrills you.
See your "Being" is in my dream with me.
Someone to hold, knowing she gold and you got her.
Got her honest, just being yourself.
Staid, bold with...
108 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Fictional Prose: Short Stories and Chapters from Books and Novels (Page 5)