"shitty first draft"

by Colin

Published on 2008-04-20 10:00:00

The Desolation Feed them to the jackals[1], the raving, the desolate, the insolent; let them tread on the roads of Mount Zion[2] in old Jerusalem, and fall into the cenacle: their last supper shall be their own flesh, lured away by the cunning, the slight, of huli jing[3]. A successful prince owns the attributes of both lion, and fox[4]. Don Diego de la Vega[5] may be proud, but there is no pride to be found amongst the ranks of the fallen: their trenches lie in torrents of

by Marcus

Published on 2007-08-12 11:27:00

Let No(Let no hand hold you downLet no foot mark your ground)Who are we to say,What we want?We, we determine the way,What we can,Or can't.We, a common responsibilityOr is itA common misery?To bow our headsLike we should"After all, it's for the common good."Responsibility over individuality.(Let no hand hold you downLet no foot mark your ground)Marcus.

by Dawn

Published on 2007-07-02 14:32:00

Everybody’s got someplace they call home Dawn has always had more gangles than curves,And never, not ever, gets what she deserves.This far from home she is just an outcastStaring in awe at this country so vast. Dyed hair and short nails but not yet too oldTo be approached in a bar by those who are bold.Scary she may be and fierce in her toneAnd worried that she may end up alone. Alone! she did cry! Alone! An old bat!(and, one may deduce,With a horde of wild catsand a stack of Doc Seuss!) W

by Radenko...

Published on 2007-07-02 11:35:00

You are invited to view the writings of Croatian author Radenko Fanuka 21st Century’s Woman An Immeasurable Power In this, 21st century, I believe that a woman will make great, giant contributions, or steps. Our powerful, wounded nature, our freedom, and our health, have for too long been asking us, as well as telling us, some unanswered questions, “Why, and why not? A power, which can make a successful step against MOTHER NATURE’S power, earth’s soil, women and sun, doesn’t exist

by Colin

Published on 2007-05-13 09:25:00

Faced I bordered my neck with a scarf to hide the stubble, icing over cake rind. Men get so hairy. I don’t understand these smooth boys, clean, serene, where hair doesn’t grow. Thirty and still pubescent, needing only to shave once a week, with a single blade razor, that sees little wear. Facial hair is that extra mark of distinction that men hold proudly. It is our make-up, our eye shadow, the male’s great mascara. I take off the scarf, and let my skin shine. Colin

by Carrie...

Published on 2007-04-22 10:44:00

The Pith of YouMy mind capsized into the havoc laden memory of sitting alone with only you, Cashing in on family politics, No one ever knew of the side roads you rambled humming in the wasps, slick and slender, behind the hedges cultivating the stinging few, and surging the fever into veins branching from every avenue, splitting the bark, peeling the core, enervating the shrew. Nothing was left but the pith of you and I, Ruminating on my escape throughby Carrie

by Cybez...

Published on 2007-04-20 16:25:00

Ode to the mouseI handle and hold you.Respondingyour cursor flashes,and reflects in my eyes.Seen on the screenis what youhelp me convey.You're appreciated more than wordsmore than, much more thanthat old cliché.by Cybez