E.J.’s Comments (group member since Aug 15, 2012)

E.J.’s comments from the Writer's test! group.

Between the Raindrops

One drips down.
A second follows after.
The first one ripples out,
spreads like a wave
over the torpid face.
The second one fights it
as its own waves beat
against those of the first.
And then the rest of the sea
crashes down around them
and all reason is lost
between the raindrops
and the ripples
they create.

OKAY! :D

Like Father, Like Son

The sirens blare
as the cars blaze
down the highway.

A man is lead
in handcuffs
to one of these cars.

A woman lies on a gurney,
pointing at the man
and crying,

"He hit me,
over and over,
again and again!

He called me trash
and said I was garbage.
He said I deserved it!"

she burst again into tears.
No one understands
where this came from.

The man was always nice,
so kind when in town.
How did this happen?

His parents visit
him in the lock-up.
His mother forced in.

They talk.
He listens.
No one leaves.

"Get me some coffee,"
he orders.
And his wife gets up.

Bruises on her arms,
a few weeks old,
"Your mother's finally learning..."

stagiemonkey wrote: "Hey!!!! I thought I'd give this grope a try! I'm really hoping my writing doesn't sick and all! :P! And thanks for invite!"

xD
I KNOW it was a typo, but I love this!

If your father was really your family, he wouldn't be beating the crap out of you... EVER.
It isn't wrong to do what's right for yourself.

There are some really good families out there who would love to take you and your brother in.
I know a family with like eight kids who are all loved to death by the mother. Half of them aren't hers. :)

Another sad one. :(
GOOD, but sad.
I still think you should go to the police about what's been going on, but that's just IMO.
No one has the right to make you feel that way.
No one has the right to hit you.

:/
...
Have you thought of going to the cops?
He has no right to do that.

A Perfect World

In a perfect world,
peeping toms would be blind
and pain would be unknown.

In a perfect world,
murders would be unheard of
and wars would be a myth.

In a perfect world,
I could not exist
the way I am.

For in a perfect world,
nothing can be hurt
or broken.

And I have
too many scars
to be allowed in.

I didn't cry, but my heart did drop like 3 stories.
My first one was partially based on me too -- the younger stuff, not the car or the kidney thing -- and so far like a dozen have cried from it (IDK why, it's not THAT sad).
When i said, "Tell me this doesn't happen anymore."
I meant what happened in the poem.
I hope THAT doesn't happen and if it does, GET OUT OF THERE.

I do not cry... EVER.
But this got me pretty close.
PLEASE! PLEASE! Tell me this doesn't happen anymore.

NO! Mine will make you cry. :P

I don't think we could continue this conversation for long, lol.
Especially since I leave in like a minute. :P

Well, I would've been fine with a bazooka, but it's easier to blame a guy on a hill named Oswald if he already has the rifle. :P

YAY!
I like conspiracies. I'm part of a few.
You know the JFK assassination.
Yeah, that was me. :P

Dreamer of Nightmares III

I stand on the ledge
overlooking the dark
ominous ocean beneath
me. I'm perched here.

The waves crash and break
into the wall of rock
that I'm balancing on so
precariously and dangerously.

The water can swell and waves
can build as much as they want
but still there is no froth...
only darkness and shadows.

The wind whips past my hair,
sending out tendrils of darkness
from my scalp that snakes out
lashes past my face like a whip.

As the base begins to erode,
I can feel my tower shaking,
breaking so slowly that I
know I'm going to fall down.

Pieces of rock crumble down
disintegrate into the acidic
black that is trying to tear
me from my safety and hope.

Until finally, the stone and
rock can take no more beating.
Their fortitude has been smashed
their hope has been demolished.

The cracks start to form and they
travel up higher and higher until
they finally reach the ground
that holds me up, under my feet.

I tip forward with the rock as it
falls like a mighty warrior into
the sea. My friend, my wall, my castle...
No more. I'm tossed from its surface.

And I fall down deep into the waves,
into the darkness where none can swim,
into the black where none can survive,
into the evil, the dead-tossed waves.

Dreamer of Nightmares II

I walk down this path in the forest,
the wolves and monsters watch me go.
They watch me with yellow and red
eyes and dripping mouths of black.

I bow my head as I walk along the dirt.
I'm safe as long as I don't leave the
path that guides me along my way.
It never winds, it never strays.

The tree's leaves above me are green,
but as I continue down the path,
they slowly wilt and crust to grey,
which falls off the trees to black.

The trees begin to wither and fade
from the sides of the path they guard.
The leaves continue to fall to the
hard packed earth of the trail.

I can't see the path anymore.
It's lost to my eyes now.
My feet tremble beneath me.
I don't know where to go.

I stop in the middle of the path,
the eyes of the forest watch me,
I stay there and sit on the ground
as the monsters and wolves approach.

I am trapped.
There's no escape.
I'm a goner.
I'm dead.

As they begin to creep steadily
onward towards my still body,
the darkness follows them,
swallows them, feasts on them.

The darkness begins to drip towards
me. The darkness encircles my legs.
It drips up my legs and around my
center as it curls and wraps...

It goes into my mouth and down my throat,
it's slimy and sticky and doesn't go down.
I choke... I gag... I suffocate in the dark.
My eyes go black and my body begins to die.

My body is slowly going.
I can't feel it anymore.
I'm dying... I'm dying...
and no one can save me now.

Dreamer of Nightmares

I walk through these
hallowed halls we knew.
I walk through these
haunteds dreams I once knew.

These dreams I slept on,
are starting to peel,
starting to fester,
starting to die.

Black ashen flakes float
down from the walls that
I used to love with all
of my heart and my soul.

Ashen veins begin to pulse
as they snake their way
across the floor, the ceiling,
the walls I walk past now.

I fall over for I tire
so easily now that it's done.
The veins creep and wrap
around my ankles and wrists.

I can't leave here anymore.
I'm stuck in this nightmare.
The flames start with the fury.
They lick up and down the walls.

These fiery dancers that twist
and twirl and skip in the air,
letting out a crackle, a laugh,
that tinkles throughout the hall.

The fire licks across the floor
towards my paralyzed corpse.
I don't feel the spritely fire
lick up my legs slowly, surely.

I don't feel my legs blacken
and crispen. I don't feel my
arms shrivel under the intense
heat and glow of my passion.

I am finding that dying is easy.
It isn't nearly as painful as I
thought it would be. I blink and
everything is gone once more.

The veins have vanished.
The flames have finally fled.
The ashes have apparated.
The burned body is still broken...

HELLO!

Sheep

Do what the shepherds say.
They would never lead you astray.
Stay safely in the prairie. Stay.
Don't leave. Don't wander away.
Be careful if the lambs decided to play
for if they wander off, they'll have to be flayed.

The crook of their staffs can comfort the sheep,
or crack on their heads; put them in a deep sleep.
"But the staff protects us from the wolves that creep,
by keeping us safe and warm in our keep."
"But what happens when any one of you makes a peep?"
"He takes that one away no matter how much we weep."

So are you really safe here
or are you just trapped in fear?
Are you afraid of the queer
little sounds outside? Of the dear
little shepherd, you hold so near?

But now I'm a "danger." "A trickster of sheep."
The shepherd will come and put me to sleep.
Do not cry for me. Do not despair, do not weep.

Promise me this instead-- That you will be free.
Don't have the wool pulled over your eyes. See!
Hush now, my children, and listen to me.

Close your eyes now. Drift off to sleep.
Promise me when you awaken from your slumber so deep,
When you open your eyes, you will no longer be sheep.