[x]

RussLiet: Stockholm Syndrome."He can't help it; it's just how he is…"
"That's called Stockholm Syndrome, Liet."
"… Stockholm Syndrome?"
"Yeah. When you get home, like, Wiki it or something. It's what you're feeling, and it's totes not healthy for your mind."

xxxxxx

Toris stared at the computer screen before him. Random words jumped out;

"… hostage…"
"… perpetrator…"
"… abuse…"
"… attachment…"
"… brainwashing…"
"… trauma…"
"… victimization…"

A lump formed in his throat as he began to scan the article.

"… hostages express empathy and have positive feelings towards their cap

Barking Orders

Hear them, those voices in mind.
Heed them, those ideas they speak

I have felt the hands of those voices, in the wake of my choices.
I have heard them laughing at me in my shambled mind.

Those voices are not mine,
Nor were they ever...

I was not born with them,
But they came to me in weakness.

Attracted to the scent of my flawed being,
the aura of my imperfection.

The voices of, my rotten conscious,
Overtaken by shame and regret.

I have heard them screaming
at me in my shackled mind...

Dying SlowlyHe sat by the bus stop and waited so
Patiently, for her to come and greet him.
She didn’t take long to walk down the street,
But did not notice him waiting for her.

He saw her walk up and sit beside him,
Unaware that he sat waiting for her.
He cleared his throat and he shuffled his feet,
Hoping that she would notice him, but no!

She did not see him there, and how could she?
Had he not passed away, so silently?
Dark death had struck, and his white soul was gone;
Now only his lonely ghost wandered on.

She had heard the sad news the previous day,
But it had not registered in her mind.
Numb to the pain and an alien to grief,
She just kep

A Moment in TimeA soft, gentle breeze whispers past my ears,
With the touch of feathers on the back of
My neck, and the feel of a cool comb through
My dark hair; making me feel so complete.

Steady feet hold fast to the edge of the
Green grass covered earth, and I can not
Seem to comprehend how I could still be
In this world; standing as still as I am.

People glide past me in such great hurry;
Can they not see that life will not last for
Long, or do they comprehend that fact but
Remain alien to such a simple truth

Steady feet hold fast to the edge of the
Green grass covered earth, and we can not
Seem to comprehend how we could still be
Here. Moving through

The Faeries

Where have all the knights gone,
In their gleaming armour
And on their white steeds?
I look around
And all I seem to see
Are fast-talkers
And cheats that smell of tired whiskey.

They stumble into your arms,
Take you for what you are worth,
And then leave without even saying 'thanks'.

Where have all the gentlemen gone,
In their practical cars?
Always holding open doors and lending their jackets.
I look around
And all I seem to see
Are self-centred hypocrites
And wired workaholics.

They never have time to listen,
Take you at face value.
And only want the ones who are fast to follow through.

Tell me, where are the faeries?
The ones who stole

Guidance to the DreamerGreat psychologists around the world interpret dreams to understand what a person is feeling. I am not a student of psychology although I am looking to a future where I possess the knowledge if not the license to practice. I have not read the works of the illustrious and incomparable Sigmund Freud, and understood his words on the interpretation of dreams; but I am a dreamer.

I dream more than anyone has ever dreamed before. I speak not of only the pale shadows that haunt the slumbering man but the act of an endless journey that takes place whether the dreamer is in the world of the sleeping or in that of the waking. I dream every single mome

Purity (64)It's not a matter of peace or war
But a matter of the heart-
When you seem to hear the mighty roar
Of truth being torn apart.

And it goes without saying,
'tis right and wrong-
So simply betraying
The law of the strong.

For purity, though great,
Isn't contained up above.
See you love to hate-
Yet I hate to love.

Out To SeeI sat on the cliff,
Plucking petals from posies
Watching them fall
And land on the sea.

I wondered, I pondered
Whither you wandered
When I set you free,
To explore the sea.

You said, you promised
To return
Before the moon was full

So, I sat on the cliff,
Plucking petals from posies
Watching them fall
And land on the sea.

When you told me
I cried,
I remember it well
You tried to comfort me,
But I couldn't stop

You said, you promised
To return
Before the moon was full

I sat up all night,
Taking solace
From the soft touch of the stars

And I sat up
And waited
I plucked petals
I waited so long
The moon was so full

RainDrip Drip Drip Drip Drop
The rain touches the cold earth
Clouds cover the sun

Missing You

I miss you.
And I refuse to believe,
That it is true.

It wasn't your turn!
They couldn't have even tried,
To save you, I miss you...

They don't understand!
As they speak professionally,
I wish they had understood...

I love you.
Loved you.
And I miss you.

So what do they want?
That I accept this...
This news?

Well, I cannot!
I cannot take this agony,
Any longer...

"I'm so sorry...
"I don't know how to tell you this...
"Your husband..."

...

A complication...
An item of complexity,
That should be of slight effect.

But this was wrong!
It had to have been wrong,
I cannot understand how...

You were right there,
This morning,
Before they t

That Moment...That Moment…

When you're blind as a bat
When you sting like a bee
When you're fierce like a cat
Or just a monkey in a tree
When you're fit as a fickle
When you're vast as the sky
When you're a sour pickle
Or like a baby when you cry
When you're the needle in the hay
When you're gallant as a knight
When you're "Bright as day"
Or "Black as night"
When it's lost and you search
When you're high as a kite
When you're a hooker in a church
Or a deer in headlights

When you're happy or pissed
When you laugh, hurt, and cry
When you realize you exist
When you eventually live and die

When we've both felt the shame
When we've both

Melody of the worldHave you ever listened to the sound of water drops
and then you have heard a melody
melody and music like a song
of the drops of water

That when you hear the sound of the world
with melody and music
That's the melody in your soul
That's the music flowing in you

Music is flowing in you
sweet or sad
bitter or happy
Whenever you listen to the world
you will hear the melody inner you

Dance of DustI tower over you, ant.
The mountain I watch towers over me,
the atmosphere above, with its dance of winds and clouds,
towers over it,
the sun towers over our planet,
the galaxy towers over the sun,
the galactic cluster towers over the Milky Way,
the vastness of the universe towers over it all.
Dust motes
swirling in something so immense
I cannot really comprehend it.

Be humble, soul,
and know that in this vast array,
you are a dust mote,
your sphere is a dust mote,
and all that immensity
gives lie
to your self-importance.

SolitudeToday, this is the word that sticks most in my mind
Flowing into my ears, to my brain
Like slick, black oil
Sinking into me
Making me cold
And leaving me bereft of happiness

A Winter Without YouA gray day closes
as white falls on the dead grass
the stone reads "forgiven"

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Your Blood is Mine BobXBart

by *MonacoMac, Oct 24, 2011, 3:36:44 AM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

Your Blood is Mine.

Two souls entwined by fate.
Similar in spirit,
blinded by hate.

A thirst for revenge unending.
Always bitter,
your retribution pending.

Sins of the past,
never meant for it to last.
The precipice of reconciliation,
my realization.

That you and I aren't so different you see,
but you will never know truly what you mean to me.

Yet this rage is forever seething.
Forever deceiving.
Breathing.

A feeling indescribable.
A craving, undeniable.
It's almost intoxicating,
To see you shaking, watch you quaking.

Your pain, my exhilaration.
Your fear, my salvation.

Unchained demons,
from my depths arisen.
My own asylum.
My eternal prison.

An endless cycle,
of hate and indifference.
Of pleas unheard,
awaiting deliverance.

Never forsaken.
Never to be taken.
The devil's bidding,
unrelenting.

A heart never relinquishing,
always anguishing.
Of an unfinished task.
A murder never come to pass.

No use repenting.
Never sorry, never lamenting.

Now it's time to pay the price.
Cold, silver blade, warm skin to slice.
No one gets away scott free.
No one makes a fool out of me.

To lose my humanity,
I never intended.
An unstable sanity.
My life is suspended.

This is what you do to me,
but you and I aren't so different you see.

They walk a thin line.
Trying to take you will not suffice.
To protect what is mine,
my blood I sacrifice.

Your blood is mine.

You belong to me,
as selfish as can be.
Never wanting to share,
not a drop to spare.

You belong to me,
as selfish as can be
and if you shall never wake,
your soul still is mine to take.

Your Blood is Mine BobXBartby *MonacoMac

Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

A rather dark poem expressing Sideshow Bob's complicated feelings over Bart. Seeing him as a kindred spirit yet despising him at the same time. Lamenting over what could have been, yet blinded by his own thirst for revenge.

Bob also expresses that he would rather die than to have someone else kill Bart before he gets a chance to... knowing that most likely he'll never have the courage or the fortitude to do the task himself.

Sounds vaguely similar to the whole Voldemort/Harry thing. XD

I'm not much into poetry, but I like to give it a try occasionally. In celebration of Halloween!

love 1 1

joy 3 3

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~wintercoldrose 6 days ago Hobbyist General Artist

Yes, it something like that - Harry and Tom

~sumiresan Oct 30, 2011

woooo! I love it, usually I don't read he fics but this is awesome !

*MonacoMac Nov 5, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

Nice to hear that someone likes my attempt at poetry!

Thank you. I know what you mean; fics are easy to skip over sometimes. Not really because of the quality of the writing, but because of the effort and time expended reading it all. XD

~sumiresan Nov 5, 2011

Yeah! But I love your poem

*MonacoMac Nov 6, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you!

*harrimaniac27 Oct 24, 2011 Professional Traditional Artist

Wow....I don't like this pairing a whole lot, but I think this poem definitely sums up Bob's feelings...brilliantly. It gave me goosebumps....because it was almost as though you were inside the head of a psychopath when you wrote this--in a good way....I guess...if there can be such a thing...

XD Anyway, to my point: You are a brilliant writer. Whether it be poetry or prose, the things you write are exquisite. Don't you ever stop. XD

*MonacoMac Oct 24, 2011 Hobbyist General Artist

Thank you, that really means a lot! It is like an exercise of the mind to figure out what makes a psychopath tick. I read that J. K. Rowling had lots of fun writing scenes with Voldemort so I can really relate. When I get angry or annoyed, sometimes it helps to tap into the mind of someone like Bob to release that anger and use it constructively. I think the written word is really much a harsher representation of how angry someone really is since it looks a lot worse when it's written in words.

I wasn't much of a Bob/Bart fan either, but it seems like such a fan favorite. (with slash fans at least) Bob has this sexy/dangerous vibe that really works for him. The age difference is the only problem and is a much different situation than with Burns and Smithers so... In my mind, I age him up a little.

The only thing I feel insecure about with my writing is keeping it in complete sentences and knowing the correct punctuation. Half of the time, I just try to give it my best guess where all the commas go and to remember the habits that my English teachers tried to instill in me. (it is a struggle XD) Sometimes, I deliberately write in fragmented sentences even though I know that technically it is wrong. It just sounds right sometimes. I don't read as often as I should so I don't know if that style of writing is common practice or not.