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Comments are greatly appreciated.

Absolutely no comment... O.o

Thank you very much, I appreciate that Cen. And sweating a fever out might not be the best idea...Aspirin?

Thank you very much, I appreciate that Cen. And sweating a fever out might not be the best idea...Aspirin?

Nice submission, 1337, although the Kraken is maybe the one beast I'd never imagine being misunderstood. Definately a total overkill!

Miss Spencer though.. Saw him post earlier and couldn't believe my eyes, but I can't remember where...

1 - Innocent

Stands in the terrace,
Trees surround-
It's quiet, she's quite
Loud, screaming
That red dress.

Whispers of winds,
Stealing away-
breaths; silence; peace;
Tearing through the grapevines
Destructive, tearing rage.

Ruffles at the hem,
Turns the door's handle.
Hair plays longingly-
A step behind;
The dance of flames.

The auburn sunset,
Chaste upon her lips.
The taste of poison-
Seductive, bittersweet;
Innocence now lost.

Confused names (3)

My name has been forgotten
In the real life chris.
On the bus its curly
at my uncles its todd
In band its Blue and Steve
In gym ive coined the Tony
At another school Im Charlie
On Xbox im A Used Band ade
Or to some Band ade for short
Now to get back at everyone
My friend in band, collin,
Now has the name patrick
Kid on the bus whos real
name is bryan is now Hank
Kid at the other school, josh is Nathan
Not my name is not only forgotten,
But everyone elses is forgotten

remind me not to do poetry.

11. New School - A non traditional sonnet

Five minutes here,
I'm already feeling left out.
It feels like a nightmare,
What is everybody talking about?

I try to get closer to a group,
Just some kids having fun,
I wish for them to show me around
Instead, they all start to run.

Looks like the rumors have spread
That is what to myself I say,
They know all about the dead,
Should I move even further away?

I am tired of escaping,
I'll start shooting.

[b]Describing color to a bitter blind kraken from the 5th dimension- short story

The kraken crested its head out of the sea from the interdimensional rift, looking upon this world with contempt. He wished for the world to burn, but could not see it burn, for he was blind. And there were so many sights he wished he could see that had been described to him before. He had memories of these things he so yeanred to see: The leaves that drifted to the ground in autumn on a short breath of childlike hope and whimsy. (He'd heard they were all orange and lit up the fall sky, but he could only imagine what orange was) A photograph he had broken, but he never knew of what was in the photograph, and how he wished he had. Perhaps then he could feel a real sense of guilt. And he acted like he was sorry, but he just was not.
The kraken hated his world and every world.
For in his world, a corrupt official at the head of power had sent his entire family into poverty. And as he was on the brink of starving, black filling the edges of his mind, he envisioned a flash un his mind. A bright, white light in the darkness. Something to give him reason to live. He was brought back from the brink, not by something happy or inspiring, no- well perhaps it was inspiring, but not in the regular or ordinary way. An old aged kraken, hundreds of years old, passed away in front of him from starvation. He could hear the miserable cries and groans, and when he yelled out to ask what happened, he was told.
And something arose inside him. A kind of inner strength. He felt hatred towards himself and everyone else. He wanted revenge. Revenge for the boys, revenge for the girls. Inside this kraken, genius was rising. A revolution was on the rise. He gave his cries of anger and rising up to a crowd he could not see. He spoke about his dreams of peace and his nightmares of what would happen if something wasn't done then and there.
The other krakens thought he was going crazy. But one shy kraken in the middle of the crowd spoke up. He spoke about attacking the hideous king's army of evil and enforcement. And the crowd roared for him and the blind kraken. And the shy little kraken became a general, a hero to combat the evil.
And everything was going well. The rebels were winning The blind kraken had daydreams of peace and content, giving his speeches to the uproarous crowd, willing to die for his cause. But they were ill prepared in the end. The corrupt leader was killed, and his structure fell apart. But all of the blind kraken's friends were killed, and he fell into a deep abyss of hatred and sadness. "This is my fault," said he.
So the kraken burned everything. He became a wild beast, who knew nothing but destruction. He forgot his name in his berserk rage. He forgot everyone's.
He entombed most everything in rubble and set the rest ablaze. He heard it burn, the crackling flames, and felt the heat, almost cozying in its way. And he laughed. Now he had to burn every other world. He had to hear and feel them burn.
And he moved into our dimension. We are next. But a sad innocent little boy came to the beach one day, after a bad day at his new school. He loved a little girl in his class, but she didn't love him back. They were too young to understand love, the adults would say. But the sad little boy knew love when it welled up inside of him.
Now, the kraken heard this boy approaching. He hid under the water, becoming little more than an entity to be thought of and unseen. The boy sat at the shore and watched the rising tides, knowing he would just be home alone if he went back now. And he sobbed. The kraken heard these sobs and he recognized them as the sobs of devastation. So he revealed himself.
Perhaps to most, the kraken would be a horrific sight. But the little boy saw only good. "Hello," said the boy."
And the kraken understood. Not the language, but the tone: choked up happiness, the tone of someone sad who was seeing a chance. In this case, a chance at a new friend.
The kraken said nothing.
The boy noticed his milky white eyes. "Can you not see?"
The kraken could tell the boy wanted to ask him something. So he used the omni-language translator he created.
"No," replied the kraken, after being asked again. "I'm blind."
"That's too bad. Would you like me to describe the beautiful sunset to you?"
The kraken hesitated, but nodded.
"Think of the feeling of warmth. Being hugged or loved. Now make it ball-shaped, and spread it over everything ever!"
Who can say just what the kraken envisioned at that description. Maybe he disillusioned himself into thinking he knew what the boy was trying to say. But whatever the case, he felt different. He felt like there was a birth inside of him, a birth of himself from his new, contemptful self.
The boy went on to describe all the wonderful things in the world. He described Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Halloween. And he tried many times to describe the bright aurora's lights of the north, each time failing, but improving his description each time. It was a trial and error process.
Eventually, the boy went home. The kraken said goodbye, and returned to the depths. And he felt complete.
___________________________________________________________________________________________

By god this is the greatest story of all time.

[46. Someone Who Lives To Watch The World Burn]

New Hell's Fire

Not enough to satisfy,
Our eternal lust,
Driven to rust,
To become the dust.

I complete the world around me,
Just as I destroy the Earth,
From once I gave birth,
To its tremendous girth.

I am what makes us die,
I am the force for which we seek,
When our world is bleak,
Where our soldiers are meek.

To set fire to the planet,
To destroy what we know,
To steep so low,
To reap what we sow.

Watch the mushrooms,
Grow in the caverns,
Burn in taverns,
Our destructive wyverns.

Launch the fire,
I laugh at our plight,
Cheer on our fight,
Watch the crumbling might.

I am the man for the job,
Destroying without empathy,
To satisfy psychopathy,
In our ravaged psychology.

Reason to admit is never there,
We watch our lives drift away,
To when there was a day,
We dreaded our way.

All is lost,
Into the abyss,
I did not miss,
To end our bliss.

I've come and gone,
I've left my mark,
To Hell we embark,
At the last singing lark.

Any criticism would be appreciated.

I have stuff!! Odd, random stuff, but yet stuff.

[Warning. The following stories will contain either evil, fluffy puppy love, making fun of Strop without his permission, and confusion and frustration over love or any mix thereof. I am also twisting themes, because I don't care to understand them correctly.]

#46 - Someone Who Lives To Watch The World Burn.

A twisted laughter escaped his lips as he stared at the destruction. How fascinating what a tiny little press on a button could do. Of course it had been more than that, a lot more, a lot of work, determination and - he stopped for a second to find the right word, but the only one that seemed fitting was 'insanity'. But yet it had still only been a press on a button to unleash the destruction and death that was now playing out before his eyes. Sometime in his past this would have been a horrific scene, but now, now he would even consider enjoying it.
He fell back into the chair, a sudden change of expression gliding over his face. He felt tired now, so much raw anticipation had been let go and now there was nothing left. Emptiness and an urge to sleep for a long time.
He rubbed his eyes, first at this moment acknowledging his lack of glasses. He looked around for them, but the screen picturing the fire and flames of the outside world did not light the room up enough. He gave up, and leaned back once again, staring emptily at the screen as the pictures shifted from one news station to another, foreign journalists shouting into their microphones in strange languages. A muscle twitched as the Taj Mahal stood in flames. He had always found that building quite impressive to look at. He should have sto... saved it, but of course he had forgotten during the stress of getting the last few pieces of the puzzle to fit, and waiting for the response from the world. It would have been a great gift to himself on his success, but now it was burning like everything else. At least now, the world would understand. At least now the world would be his.

#39 - A Light In The Black
"And I want it nooooow!" Strop yelled out, doing an air guitar stunt down the street. A few users yelled for him to shut up, that it was late and they had games to get up to, but the mod was entirely oblivious to these complaints, jamming loudly on this invisible instrument. Besides patrolling the streets was way boring without a little self made fun, and watch was more fun than playing music?
A noise in an alley made him stop short in the middle of 'Big Balls', twitchy movements of his ears catching the smallest sound. Whatever had made the sound seemed to have gone away, but it was still an uncomfortable silence now, without the song and music. His ears flattened for a moment, then he trotted on, trying to shake off the feel of, well, not being watched, but being... followed. Which he did find a bit odd, since usually you are being watched while followed, and not just followed, unless it was some crazy blind assassin that was going to kill him because he had forgotten the text of 'Amazing horse' earlier the evening, and no one would know before the morning, because he was too ninja to be seen in the dark, and perhaps even then they woul... He shook his head. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to let Sai tell him those stories before he left. She was crazy that girl, but good for Cen.
There was the sound again! He spun around, poofing forth his trusty Thor in an attempt to look more threatening than a 1.80 tall horse anthro in a black spandex usually does. Nothing was there besides the darkness and the ghostly shine of the snow. Strop sniffed the air, grunting in the process, but nothing seemed amiss. No sounds, no weird smells. The air tasted normal too. Yet he still had the feeling of being followed, even now when he wasn't even moving. He stood there for a moment more before turning around. He wasn't going to spooked like... a horse... No! He would be - He spun around again to face whatever he had felt coming closer, being suddenly blinding by a flash of light. He whinnied shrilly, flailed and fell in the snow. Of course he rolled over and got up fairly quickly, he is a ninja and all.
The laughter broke the silence and Strop went pale, then quite red under the cloth. The girl Sai stood there, almost rolling over in a fit of the lols, holding a flash light, while the inter...Cen was holding her up, chuckling to himself.
"How very mature of you..." Strop pouted. "I could have hurt you!"
"I take no responsibility."
"I do!" Sai grinned at him, hardly being able to get enough air in as she wasted laughing.
Strop was unamused. "Harhar..."
"You angry?" Sai looked at him with huge puppy eyes, while Cen was, well, tying his shoe.
"Yes! I want in on the prank next time!!"

#29 - Unrequited love
"Sai, I have... Something I need to ask you."
She looked at him with a curious expression, which made it even more difficult. How come it was always easier when practising in front of the mirror, and when it then came to actually doing it, you were always lost for words.
"What is it?"
"I..." He threw his head back in defeat, sighed loudly, and looked at her. "Nothing, nevermind."
She continued to look at him, eyebrows narrowing. "Are you sure? Because now I wanna know."
"It was nothing. Just something stupid."
"Now I really want to know!" She yelled out, throwing herself at him so they both fell. She pinned him down and looked at him in that way that.. Just got right to him. If it hadn't been for the total loss of words on the subject, he would have told her right there and then, but there was nothing. "Tell meee!!"
"Nope!" He stuck out his tongue, and laughed at her expression as she pouted.
"It's not faaair!!" She crossed her arms, staring down at him with a look like a six-year-old not getting candy, and there was nothing he could do but love her.

#48 - Something For The Girls
Something nice... Not too big, but not too small either, girls, uhm, women seem to hate that... Not too expensive either for... obvious reasons... Perhaps something else than the usual diamond on gold trend? Opal on silver? Nah, it should probably be gold, she looks better with warmer colours. A warmer colour then, gold and.. ruby? Fire opals? Nah, it's too much too, and too girly. All these pink stones, purple stones... Blue, green, yellow... How can anyone choose from this... Perhaps that is why everyone go by the standard, diamond, gold and boring...safe...boring.
Does she even wear rings?

1. Innocence

I stand in trial
Arson is my crime
And I'm not just in denial
It was just the wrong place and the wrong time

It is not what they believe
I'm the victim here
On that night my home I leave
To take a walk under a sky clear

When I find a molotov cocktail lying on the ground
I pick it up and look around
I hear a sound behind me, I am being attacked
But now I have something my assailant lacked

I throw the flask and fire spread
I did what I did to avoid ending up dead
So what I did was self-defense, I deserve to go free
I swear to God, that hospital attacked me!

30. Kraken

-Watch out for the kraken
The old sailor said
-What kraken do you mean?
The young one answered
-The kraken at world's end.
-Is there such a kraken?
-There is if you believe in it.
-So, the kraken is just my fear.
-No, the kraken is real.
-But you just said it exists only in beliefs.
-Exactly. You believe in it.
-How can you be so sure?
-Because if you didn't you would have just ignored my warning
and walked away.
-You are right. I'm afraid.
-You should be.There's nothing to fear except fear itself.
-So, the kraken represents fear?
-No. Fear is fear and kraken is kraken.
-But, I thought it was a metaphor.
-A metaphor? Do you think that a sailor stories have metaphors?
The young sailor got mad, punched the old one in the face and left.
-It was about time for him to start acting like a sailor and not like a poet.Oh look there comes another young one. Well, time to start over.
The old man said to himself.


I know it is not very good but I wanted to write something funny with the kraken as my theme. Besides, it is a total overkill.

6. Leaves Falling In Autumn
The Northern wind comes and blows the tree leaves.
As the leaves dance to the floor, another wind comes.
The many colored leaves-red, orange, yellow, and brown-rise in the air.
These leaves are maple leaves, the most interesting leaf to look at.
The leaves fall once more and almost touch the ground when a leaf blower blows them in the air.
A child down below watching the group of leaves wonder when they are going to touch the ground.
The child watches, and watches. He gives up and goes home.
The leaves seem like they were suspended in air for a moment but then they silently fall.
The child turns around disappointed when he missed the leaves touching the ground.