Sounds that sparkle
Breaking gently over the ether
Echoes of a summer evening
The heartbeat of time
True Canadian Facts-This fact list is not available in your country.
-Canada only exists because it’s fun to sit on America.
-In Canada, Jay Z is called Jay Zed.
-Peter Mansbridge is Canada’s most popular male pornstar name.
-Our national animal is the Bieber.
-Our national currency consists of coins, paper bills, and small containers of maple syrup.
-Canada’s leading export is smugness about how we’re not as bad as the United States.
-Toronto has two giant dicks. One of them is the CN Tower. The other is the mayor.*
-To declare a thumb war in Canada, one must first get permission from the Queen.
-At any given time, Canada contains more Timbits than people.
-Stephen Harper is actually a robotics experiment that went horribly, horribly wrong.
-The double-double is actually a coffee experiment that went horribly, horribly right.
-Quebec is the only province powered entirely by spite.
-Alberta’s leading export is oil. The Territories’ leading export is d
Nerdy Haiku CollectionThis plugin won’t work
This page is loading slowly
And now Flash has crashed
Don’t you lie to me
The video is online?
Not in my country.
I don’t have Hulu
I am not American
And can’t watch this show.
Making an ass of himself
Stop spamming my page
Calling me a fake?
I’m a geek in my own right
Maybe I’m not cool.
I don’t try to be unique
I am just myself.
Even for geek stuff,
Trends do not matter to me.
I like lots of stuff.
I was once a geek
Because it meant inclusion.
Now geeks are sick trolls.
Be true to yourself.
Popularity’s a sham.
It doesn’t matter.
Can’t we just be friends?
Since when does D&D mean
Dickwolves and Dudebros?
Spam in my inbox
When did I subscribe to this?
Everything is cruft
I love all my friends
But not their Facebook pages.
Does that make me bad?
Most people are not
as stupid as haters say.
Still, why fake being dumb?
Not all of the web
Is pictures of kitty cats.
Fortune Cookies (Hetalia One-shot)The next World Meeting was only two days away. China was so busy that he didn’t notice Russia wandering into his office. It wasn’t until China became aware of an eerie presence that he finally looked up from his computer screen.
“Ah! It’s Russia, aru!”
Russia met China’s gaze with an unblinking stare. He held up the small box he’d brought in with him.
“I made these for you,” he said with a grin.
Reluctantly, China accepted the gift. The box’s contents were lightweight and rattled slightly as China set the box down on his desk. The plainness of the cardboard box was offset by a shiny red ribbon that was tied in a lopsided bow.
“It’s very... um...”
“Fortune cookies,” Russia said. “In case you wanted a taste of home.”
China showed Russia his most gracious smile.
“Thank you, aru,” he said. “Although...”
China trailed off, wondering if it was a good idea to continue.
Shinji's (not) a Basket Case[to the tune of “Basket Case” by Green Day]
Do you want to hear
About your darkest fears
And the end of the world in the Third Impact?
Giant war machines,
With pilots age 14,
No wonder everyone is mentally cracked.
It’s not a future we deserve.
Don’t think I trust the folks at NERV.
It all keeps adding up,
So, Shinji, hurry up.
I know you’re scared but there’s a world to save.
The Evas don’t work
At least one went berserk.
It looks like we’re all going to end up dead.
Asuka’s got no heart
And Rei is falling apart
And Shinji’s hiding underneath the bed.
Sometimes I’m shocked they’re still alive
Why do they let Misato drive?
When you hear Shinji say, I mustn’t run away
You know he’s gonna run.
Oh, there he goes.
What the hell is that
Coming out of the sky?
So much I didn’t want to know.
There’s too much fluid in this show.
It all keeps adding up.
So, Shinji, hurry up.
I know you’re scare
RainbowsI started out looking for rainbows
And found only grimy grey lies
And I could keep searching and searching
Til the day that I drown in the skies
Roaming without maps or anchors
Wishing without voice or prayer
Thinking I was lost forever
Chained to walls that were never there
It’s a game you win when you stop playing
Unsolved and intact, you succeed
The wide open sky is my canvas
I can paint all the rainbows I need
Hetalia: Sweet Child Of Mine, ch 11Austria waited outside the bedroom door, tapping his fingers against one another. The doctor had wasted no time in arriving and beginning the examination, and yet a great deal of time had passed since the door shut. Anytime an unpleasant thought imposed itself on Austria’s mind, he replaced it with “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.” Still, time wore on and his strategy was failing him. At long last, the bedroom door opened.
“Come in, please,” said the doctor. Resisting the urge to run to the bedside, Austria entered the room. Inside, Hungary lay nestled in the centre of the bed. She was resting with her arms folded behind her head and a peaceful look on her face. A serene smile graced her lips as she watched him approach.
“Thank goodness you’re alright,” Austria said.
“Better than alright,” said the doctor. “There is good news.”
“Wait, wait,” said Hungary, si
Hetalia: Sweet Child Of Mine, ch 10In panicked heartbeats and hushed whispers, Austria and Hungary scrambled for a plan. Many rooms away, Chibitalia was still practising. Austria could not believe that this example of precocious diligence was related to that odd man waiting outside.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Hungary said, although her voice betrayed that she suspected it wasn’t. Unexpectedly, she stumbled backward. Austria caught her just before she would have hit her head of the bust of Mozart.
“I hate that thing,” she said faintly. Austria looked at her in concern. He had never seen her look so strained.
“I’m fine, Austria,” she said. “Just a little dizzy.” As one, they looked at the door. The anachronistic stranger was probably still waiting there. Gentle, clumsy notes continued to flow from the music room. Austria gripped Hungary tighter.
“We must act now.
Hetalia: Sweet Child Of Mine, ch 9Hungary awoke that morning to the sound of musical notes. Just the notes - not really music. The sounds were plain, clear, and orderly, yet punctuated often enough with missteps and awkward pauses. She found her slippers and wandered down the hall to investigate. As she approached the music room, she remarked how unusual it was for the door to be left wide open. Peeking inside, Hungary could not believe what she saw.
Not only was Chibitalia inside the room, but he was actually seated at the piano bench. Technically, he was seated atop a stack of books on the piano bench, but he was indeed playing. Austria stood beside him, hands folded behind his back, as he watched the young child navigate the scales. Another batch of eight notes concluded. Chibitalia looked up at Austria for approval.
“Again,” Austria said with a nod. “And this time, remember to only use the correct finger for each key.”
Hetalia: Sweet Child Of Mine, ch 8Even in Austria’s dreams, the elusive melody taunted him. The song he had been straining to compose presented itself in the feeling of a perfect flow, and yet was discernible only in tantalizing bits and pieces. If he could only capture that song, he swore, he could hold the key to maintaining his empire’s glory. His family would need -
He had a wife, not a whole family. There were no -
Blinking awake, Austria tried to bring his world back into focus. It was pitch dark inside the bedroom. He couldn’t see a thing, so he just listened. The faintest chirping of the crickets outside. Hungary’s gentle, even breaths. And something else.
A string of strange and discordant notes drifted from the music room. Austria slipped out of bed and followed the sound. He paused outside the music room door. Sure enough, the sound was his dear piano being played by horrendously unskilled hand
Black Cat Amber EyeBlack coat with silken hair,
The eyes bright and young in years.
But what this glance is saying
Is as old as the world.
The eyes almost closed,
Snuggled and silent dreaming,
She lies like spilled –
Inwards restless, exuberant.
Stretched out peaceful and easy –
Gentle soul, full of happiness.
I ask myself what she might intend
By her soft glance?
Often, she lies around sleeping
And after a while, she opens
The little mouth and bends the back.
But everything without haste.
Then, when she starts to rub gently
Around my legs, purring –
It is only up to her
When she moves my heart.
When I take her in my arms
And look into her amber eyes,
How my heart warms up
And help me to believe in the good.
Black coat with silken hair,
On velvety paws slightly –
We walk together year for year
Until our journey will have come to an end.
And when once you will leave me, my purring companion,
So, I cover you tenderly with love.
And I think of you fondly what enlightens my spirit:
Fukushima FlowersYou think of Salvador Dali
and melting clocks,
and mirrored versions
stuck in themselves.
Forms blurred under
the origin of life,
car crash nature,
a star bursting
An exploding reaction
taking lost millennia.
You think of broken nuclei
stuck in meiosis.
GarryxReader .:Together Forever:.For as long as you could remember, you have always worked at a very pleasant, and nice art gallery. Yet,at the same time, it seemed a bit....off. You would work late, and the pictures seemed to...move. Writing on the walls. Some pictures being blank. You blamed it on your sleepiness, and seeing things,but every time you mentioned it to your friend Garry, he seemed to dwell on it a second,then change the subject.
You were a bit annoyed with this,yes, because you knew he was in the gallery, in 'another world' with a girl named Ib. You couldn't help but think she was a bit more special than you, since you have had a crush on Garry since you first met him. You manage to stutter around him when he was to close, or when he hugged you.
"Are you ok ______?" He would ask, curiously staring at your reddened face.
You manage to squeak out an "I-I'm fine!" and walk off quickly after that.
But today,today you were going to tell him you liked him.
You had to,since your friends were pressuring you in
Yes I am bi
No it does not matter
Every person is as good as the latter
I love differently
Yet I think the same
Many may say it but I am not insane
It's not a phase
or a lust for sex
It is me on the inside being myself
titans.they don’t tell you that
sisyphus just let the rock roll down
and collect his body
they don’t tell you that you can still walk
with holes in your legs
and you can still love
when your heart has already been ripped open.
they don’t tell you that
you are 75% of an ocean
that is six miles deep
and eats ships alive,
75% of the water that shapes canyons,
75% of the rain that drowned the earth
for forty days and nights.
they don’t tell you that
your body is made of the same carbon
they don’t tell you that
there is a fire burning inside of you
or that your bones are stronger than steel
or that the things that fuel you
fuel tigers, too.
the greeks and romans wrote stories about
how strong you were
and you are icarus,
and you died laughing
because they didn’t tell you
how beautiful the world really was
even as it was swallowed
by the waves.
Some say they never were,
And were birthed from imagination.
The same say that fantasy
Is the realm of children and the insane.
To believe in the magical,
And the fantastic
Is to be as a child or a madman.
I am neither and I believe in dragons.
The majestic Lords of skie
Born of fire.
In an averie of flames
The eggs lie
Warmed by mothers breath.
Emerging weak and hungry,
Unfurl for the first time.
For mothers attention.
Noble, proud and powerful
Lords of the skie
Reach the very stars with
A thermal sigh
And one thunderous wingbeat.
Upon the winds they soar
Breaking free from earths hold.
Higher, faster, beyond the limits.
All nations praise them
And they do not exist?
Fools, they are about you!
Dragon, Wyvern, firedrake
Black, white, blue, red
The old bronze
The nobel silver
The regal gold
The death dragon
The luck dragon
Dragons! Live breath fire and flame
Mighty in body, glory in na
Queen RegnantAs you embroidered autumn
into my bones, I heard the
trees giggle to themselves:
"We're going to make all
the leaves change color,
pin them along the sidewalk
for you to follow and we'll
wreathe them in your hair.
You will be our daughter."
You folded apples into my smile,
making it crisp, but sweet. I
took the time to thank you by
shrugging off my sweater and
giving it to you. A daughter
of the trees, braided with their
leaves, needs no protection
from the elements that embrace her.
"Your leaf diadem suits you,
daughter," they say as
their branches weave between
gusts of wind. For once,
I believe them.
I have a bouquet of light
of shattered sunrays
that shun those
whose rose is not as rubicund
or whose cerulean is only slightly sea-green-stained.
Slice up the white
and imprison it in sardine cans
and push the plungers home.
But no matter how much you may try
the result is death;
for you've frayed the perfect threads
And only dried minerals and plasma
some darker version of the cosmic latte concentrated.
My heart is a prism.
All that's around me
some hibernating humming
frozen beneath the winter's coat.
I must be a time machine,
because I cannot abide this monochrome much longer.
And I've sprung forward to spring.
I'm seizing the icicles
that drip from the pallid clouds
and stripping them
and cutting them
and setting them
and in my heart they are transcribed
and flowers bloom
in the rumination of the sunlight.
a host to the aquatic fermentation
and I sip this bouquet
an imitation of the future,
A Wolf's Lullaby
Looking through my opened window
Unable to sleep at all
I hear a wolf's cry
Full of sadness and pain
At the sound of it I start to cry
Running into the forest with only my pjs
I follow the trails of wolves
Looking for wounded soul that cried
Finding the wounded animal
Knowing it's about to die
I get on my knees and craddle it's head
Singing a wolf's lullaby
Several years later unable to sleep again
I hear the sound of wolves crying
Full of happiness and rejoice
I fall asleep at the sound of a wolf's lullaby