Hetalia Meme Thing!Stolen from :iconpony-luver101:Choose 10 of your favourite characters/OCs/Friends/Celebrites/other.1: Italy.2: Romano.3: England.4: America.5: Canada.6: France.7: Prussia. 8: Belarus.9: Liechtenstein.10: Hungary.1:  finds a time machine! What time period do they visit?!America: Dude, I'm totally going into the future to see if they've invented flying cars yet! 2:  falls in love with , but knows that  is dating . What happens?Romano: You think I'm going to back down from flirting with a cute girl like Liechtenstein because of some Frenchie? Ha! Yeah, right.3: wakes up in 's house with no memory of how they got there.Italy: Ve... Hmm? Where am I? This isn't my house.England: Good morning.Italy: Eek! E-
Poetry Basics: BrevityBrevity: n. the quality of expressing much in few words.When I was in tenth grade, I took my first literature course. It was a six week exploration of poetry. The first poem my teacher showed us was Ezra Pound's In a Station of the Metro:The apparition of faces in the crowd;Petals on a wet, black bough.I, in all of my 16-year-old knowledge of the intricacies of what poetry is, informed my teacher that those two lines were not a poem. "You don't think so?""No. They don't rhyme, they are just one metaphor, and did I mention they're only two lines?""We'll see." She sure showed me. Importance in PoetryPound's poem is considered such a great work because he inserts several layers into a single image. Using only 13 words he evokes an entire painting within the reader's mind. You can hear the sounds of the trains, see the fatigue of a mother wrestling with her cranky toddler,
Pray for PlaguesSempiternal love strung up on silhouetted trees.Grown as cold as the wind passing through fragile leaves.The bitter air clots the breeze in my throat.Each breath simply begs for me to choke.I can't live with you, I didn't want to try.Yet you made me sit there and watch as you painfully died.Now my soul is as hollow as the bones within a bird.I'm just composed of red lines and screams that are never heard.There is no difference between night and day.It feels like I'm sleepwalking either way.Anything would be better than this volatile raw pain.So follow me to the graveyard, and we'll pray for plagues.We're all just scarecrows lost in fields of October.So enjoy your autumn now, because mine's almost over.
Never MindI guess you’re happy nowI don’t need to ask you howIt’s easy to seeHe isn’t meBut don’t think I understandBecause I gave you all I canAnd you just walked away from meLike I didn’t matter at allNever mind the way I feelNever mind the tears I criedNever mind the moments lostNever mind the time gone byNever mind the broken dreamsNever mind the last goodbyeNever mind the promisesNever mind, just never mindWhat is it that he gives youWhat was is that I didn’t doHow was I wrong?Why are you gone?I can’t bring myself to knowWhy you ever hurt me soAfter all the time we spent togetherLike I never mattered at allNever mind how I loved youNever mind how I triedNever mind that I need youNever mind that I criedNever mind what I surrenderedNever mind what it costNever mind that I’m lonelyNever mind that I’m lostNever mind what we wereNever mind what was trueNever mind I was happyNever mind I loved youNever
Skipping Stones.We skip stones across the sandexpecting rings to spread in pre-historic oceansas Terra Firma recreates itself according to the original blueprints.We step closer to the brinkfor that leap of faith we never dared to takebefore the tide swept us off our feetand carried us beyond the edge of the ancient maps where“Here be Dragons”have been etched into the scorched earth like graffiti.Sentences get too long as we run out of words to form themspeaking with our bodies in a twisted dancewrithingtwistingblindlylike larvae burrowing into the crust of the earth.Seeking deeper towards the internal sunlike an imitation of Icarusdigging deeper until the core melts our waxen wingsand we become yet another particle of our own universe.All thisfrom ripples of oceans pastand the sand slipping between our fingertipsas we walk on bare feet across the heavensin search of answers we have yet to form the questions to.
Beyond AbeyanceI used to write of darkness.Of a place so hollow and apathetic,And my insignificant place inside it.But silence was deafening,along with solitude savage.I suffocated on thoughts of oblivion.And I floated there.Unbreathing,Unspoken,Overlookingmy realm ofgray.It wasn’t until I closed my eyes,That I dreamed of COLOR.C r e a t i o n f l o o d e d m y l u n g s, And jump started my blood flow.I was given all the universe .........Of which to shape into something b e a u t i f u l..........S o I g a v e l i f e. I t o o k c o n t