What is the purpose of quicksand?
Its just there to give you something
to fight against, an antagonist
Careful, there is no charm that works
when you're drowning in it
No secrets to lift you up, out.
They tore down the trees on the other side
a greenbelt became a sea of mud
I explored it on a stormy day feeling like
this was not a brave new world
this was ugly, mean
no more birds, no beasts
an apocalypse has taken over.
The creek became muddy and brown
because things don't always work the way
the engineers say they will
weeds are choked, choking
ducks flew away, confused
the coyote has not been seen again.
Her face is so beautiful,
I can see how you are suitable.
But when she makes that look,
It seems like she is a closed book.
Not open to any possibilities,
(more) only hostilities.
She is looking smart and acting witty
seemingly ultra pretty.
On the inside she straight as an arrow,
not expansive but narrow.
I would think this is unattractive,
but you two seem to compliment the reactive.
I see your love for her is unobstructed,
I hope the best is yet to come,
your hearts beating to their own drum.
Maybe if I’m lucky,
on my walk through Kentucky
I will step in quicksand.
Sinking deeper and deeper out of hand.
Away from you,
the one who stole the sole of my ruby red shoe.
How easily you can drag me under
with your eyes closed if you want
but you'd rather watch
you gaze steel and I sink
into the quicksand I go
it sucks me under and I'm helpless to the pull
(more) there's that tone that seeps into my skin
driving it home and skipping to the beat
and that's when you're only skimming the surface
there's a majesty to it all
justice most poetic
it makes the sinking that much better
An unflappable vegetarian moved in next door, with quicksand eyes. Her fascination with my garden was certifiably serious, and though she couldn't quite square these colorful live things bursting from composted shit with her produce aisle experience, she was eager to figure it out, so I expeditiously decided to(more) stop flapping her. After a first few select comments, I no longer poked her dietary druthers and we set to learning, though her attempts at proselytizing were rendered rather impotent with ignorance. It was all cute, she was, and her edible animal indignation, but I had decided not to flap her.
"La gira grand jardin," an outswept arm announced. Peeking and poking in raised beds we examined braised heads of lettuce, and I said, "water on the leaves in midday, you see, and with the perfect refraction angle, like a magnifying glass, yep, that's leaf burn alright." Irritating contemplations of irrigating complications were no place to begin and only served as implication of flapping. Ease into it, I thought, work with what she got. "This is broccoli, that one cauliflower, this one cabbage, see the similarities, taste the difference in these juvenile leaves. Oh no! They get much bigger!"
I opened my gate for her grazing, watching knowingly and unknowingly at her explorations, fondle, taste, spit or seize, nibble, swallow, face shocked by spice or hungering for more. She never did square this provender with the produce aisle. Broccoli here was a large, luscious leaf, and cabbage a curly patch. Her proselytizing was rendered rather more impotent by the bite as harvest time brought puffball mushroom-sized cauliflower and golf ball cabbage, no leaves left to gather growing light. This left me with nothing to eat, and I had to subsist solely on meat. At which she made an inappropriate innuendo.(less)
My Dad tells me I could have been rich and successful. I could have made a difference in the world. But then I left the military academy with only a few months until commissioning. I don't bother asking what it is he thinks I am doing with my life(more) now that I'm not doing that.
I work early a lot. I still like to go out at night. Sometimes I get into the habit of going out and going to work then not sleeping when I get home, then doing it again. It takes a really bad night to break these cycles. The cycles are always broken.
My grandpa died on April Fool's Day. My mom came home from work crying with the news.
I told myself I would read a few novels this summer that I've been meaning to read. I'm halfway through one and I can't wait til it's over.
I voted in the last presidential election, I'm not sure if I will vote in the next one.
I drink too much beer and smoke too much. I don't get up and dance enough, or run.
If I was going to be a writer I would be one now.
Same goes for being a musician.
I'm taking a week off of work in August to go camping up in Maine, I hope I don't come back.
My father is sitting in the reclining chair by the big bay window in the living room. My dog is sitting near his feet, looking up. For no reason at all he is hoping for something, anything maybe. My dad watches our neighbor crawl down the street in his old truck and turn into his short, cracked driveway. My dad looks down at my dog and smiles. That is enough.(less)
Last night, you spent a lot of time staring at me.
I don't really know you. You're a good friend of a not-quite-friend of mine, and I remember seeing you around, four years ago, and noticing you, but only in that vague, passing attraction kind of way.
Last night, I might have been a magnet.
You were probably pretty drunk, and drunk people are bad judges of distance. You talked to me and pulled your chair so close to mine that I could feel the heat of your legs on my leg. I would look away, and know you were looking at me, all too steadily.
Last night was quicksand.
I know what it sounds like I wanted, but I think all I wanted was to rest a hand on your arm, below your shoulder, and hold on as if for dear life.(less)
I was going to do it. I was going to willingly jump into the quicksand. I suppose I should start from the beginning...
I used to be a human, I think. But now I'm a Pokemon. I knew what Pokemon were, but I never thought I'd wake up(more) one day as one. Right now I'm a Riolu. When I woke up, I was greeted by a Chimchar, he told me that he found me unconscious on the beach. He probably saved my life. Since then we've been through a lot together. Together we formed an Exploration team to search for treasures and hopefully even find out why I turned into a Pokemon. Lately a criminal Pokemon known as Grovyle has been going around stealing Time Gears, the worst crime imaginable. It was our Team's job to find the Time Gears and take them to safety. We had heard there was one at the Northern Desert but...no matter how hard we looked it wasn't there...
"Hey." said my partner in exploration, Chimchar.
"What?" I asked. We had been traveling through this same dungeon over and over and not finding any Time Gears. "At least we know that Grovyle won't find it. I mean, we couldn't."
"I don't think Grovyle would have any problems finding it." added Chimchar. "Remember how he found Uxie's Time Gear? Nobody knew that one even existed." he was right.
"Well, then where is it? We've got to find it before he does!" I sat down in frustration. The desert was dry and exhausting. "There's nothing here but quicksand!" I then complained.
"Wait...quicksand..." he was getting an idea. "Mark. Do you trust me?" he asked sincerely.
"Uh, sure." I told him.
"Then let's go!" he grabbed my paw and jumped in."
There was another dungeon under the quicksand.(less)
What was this feeling? Floating? Falling? No, sinking. Ah, yes. I was sinking. I must have fainted. But who could blame me? It had been a terribly difficult day. But I remember
I was sinking in quicksand. But quicksand is only quick if you struggle. If you don't,(more) it is a torturously slow death. Good thing I fainted. Unconscious people don't struggle. I would have been disappointed if I had drowned in sand while out. I'd hate to miss this one in a lifetime opportunity.
After all, a person can only die in a pit of quicksand once. And I bet this is the only quicksand pit int he whole of Ireland.
I kept my eyes open as the sand reached my mouth. Here it was. I was going to suffocate by sand. I was going to die. Then, just as I felt my lungs begin to burst I-
I sat up and beanbags flew to either side of me. Gasping, I looked around and blinked. Then I remembered. I was at a friend's house and had created a beanbag bed. That was what I had been sinking into.
"Pft. Quicksand in Ireland. Right." I muttered and pulled a bean bag over me like a blanket, going back to sleep. (less)