9 years ago
Just awesome :D
I got back from school just a few hours ago. Surprisingly enough, I didn't fall asleep in class given that I only slept for an hour or so (I really detest screwy biological clocks). Anyway, all throughout (while I did do my work), I was thinking of a concept for another short story/or long one depending on how much content I want to add as they are somewhat personal - but with a twist so it's more tragic than it seems. But, as it has appeared to me in my present shortcomings, it really is much easier to think about an idea rather than execute and finish it.
But this year, I wanted to make it a priority, now that I have a small idea on what to do after graduation. No, I will not be going straight to a university but take classes on Art and work on building up a portfolio. Then I can go to an Art school.
My hopes for last year (since I got Art class) was that I'd learn the fundamentals. But, that isn't what we got. My school is an underrated school. It's fairly old too as it's currently getting a much needed face lift that shall be ready by next year. So Art class has cut down, especially on what is 'supposed' to be learned. I was hoping to cover shading, figures, observation techniques etc. etc. but what was I to gain from expecting so much? Not a whole lot, but a little something here or there.
Ah well.
So, I wrote this poem on the concept I mentioned before I went into Rant mode - which I do when I get a fresh thought and I follow it. I wanted to personify wishing stars. Here I question the idea while giving a base intro and all but I wanted to give them the traits of a fast-living human, like the reckless types who 'live in the moment.' In a way - as I've written dabbles here and there - these stars are beings of desire as they have short lives. 'Beings of desire...?' It's tricky as most of the wishes people wish for aren't greedy or anything like that. People actually wish for good, don't they?
Okay, so these stars are bipolar (in a way). :) But that's me poking fun at the subject because I'm wondering which approach I want to take when writing because there are three scenarios that I can take, maybe even more than that.
And, I should mention, that this concept is something I overuse, ever since 'fate' and 'destiny' always seemed to mingle with the word 'star' or 'stars.' Angels is something I've long overused since people with wings fascinate me.
Etoile
Stars, the light of our wishes
Good and bad, drift in unlimited space;
Our imaginings, the sky a reflection of our collective minds.
Whether angel or devil
Of ghost or of soul,
Do your beliefs lie
Among the millions of colored lights?
Whisper along a wish,
To pass the time, bored;
For stale life loops as if in lazy slumber
For the lives that pass through it have their own missions.
So the changing atmosphere
Affects us all. Mercurial in temper
Or cool and calm in a fervent summer
A tempest rages war within us -
A mess of emotions - parleying stress
Mentally and physically
To the struggling host body.
To the struggling host body.
And thus these lights
Become the carrier - the symbol - of our escape,
Our safe place; our dreams.
And our hopes.
Is it childish?
As they distract from earthly things
And lift the burdens we can only carry
With our less than capable shoulders
During the times when we are not at our best.
Then, is there not another possible world
Among these lights?
In the blackness do they dwell
Lighting whatever they can
Within the malign conjurings of the human mind -
The human will.
Are not the stars capable of feeling too?
As they are beings fashioned of our thoughts and devices
Their lives are reckless and brief.
Their cross, glued to their backs, tied down by linings of gold;
Tiny persons ask for freedom
From the suffocating dark.
But of angel or demon
Of good or evil intent, if freed
Is unknown, as their development lies
Within the wishes we wished.
What creature does that supplement make them?
I'm not sure whether to continue this or if the cut-off point is there... But there's more to come.
I hope you enjoy this song as much as I do. :3
And our hopes.
Is it childish?
As they distract from earthly things
And lift the burdens we can only carry
With our less than capable shoulders
During the times when we are not at our best.
Then, is there not another possible world
Among these lights?
In the blackness do they dwell
Lighting whatever they can
Within the malign conjurings of the human mind -
The human will.
Are not the stars capable of feeling too?
As they are beings fashioned of our thoughts and devices
Their lives are reckless and brief.
Their cross, glued to their backs, tied down by linings of gold;
Tiny persons ask for freedom
From the suffocating dark.
But of angel or demon
Of good or evil intent, if freed
Is unknown, as their development lies
Within the wishes we wished.
What creature does that supplement make them?
I'm not sure whether to continue this or if the cut-off point is there... But there's more to come.
I hope you enjoy this song as much as I do. :3
Midnight
I'm going to make an effort to post a little bit more. If not about me then about something else.
Who knows, I might start a spontaneous one-shot.
Midnight
Of day and night you change to a person you don't want to be.
Sad, for there is no reprieve, nor is there any exit as far as you can see.
Come toll, the midnight bell
Signal the change thou cannot quell
A person otherworldly brought on by delusion; an imaginary scene
Of whom vowed to protect thee, a promise made as if in a dream
Toll, toll, the midnight bell sings
A presence unwanted and wanted, but out it careens
Living among us in the everlasting world
Of delusions and illusions, as real as real can be
(she/he wants to talk so I'm letting them -- and I did see one earlier tonight)
Mother dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you vanish forever
Father dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you are smashed into tiny pieces
Brother dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you rot from the inside out (to feed the insects, you see)
Sister dear I saw a falling star
(And what a marvelous sight)
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you live a thousand years before you return to dust
Ah me, did we tell ourselves that we saw a falling star?
(It streaked across the black in a slow gait -- was it even a star at all?)
To-night I wished with all my heart
That I die the most horrible death, for wishing the most vile things of people around me.
I do not deserve to live
(but I'm still here no matter how many times I wish I was not).
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you vanish forever
Father dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you are smashed into tiny pieces
Brother dear I saw a falling star
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you rot from the inside out (to feed the insects, you see)
Sister dear I saw a falling star
(And what a marvelous sight)
To-night I wished with all my heart
That you live a thousand years before you return to dust
Ah me, did we tell ourselves that we saw a falling star?
(It streaked across the black in a slow gait -- was it even a star at all?)
To-night I wished with all my heart
That I die the most horrible death, for wishing the most vile things of people around me.
I do not deserve to live
(but I'm still here no matter how many times I wish I was not).
I don't like this game anymore.
In which I'm a bit overwhelmed...
...and am lazy enough to not think of a more imaginative title.
So I'm sitting here thinking of a rant I could type up. A few seconds later, I change my mind - "who would want to read a rant," I query, "I do doubt that I'll make much sense." So this won't be a rant (hopefully) - and it's not directed at anyone here either (many of my rants aren't anyway). :)
Sunday Scribblings #172 - The Plan
I'm caught between a crossroads and I'm not sure what to do. One side says write, the other says draw, going forward means I'm stalling till I get to another crossroads and, who knows? That might be the last time I get to stall my way through? *sighs*
Anywho, I found this site where a published writer gives advice (here). I thought it was pretty helpful. :) Oh. And here's something I'm reading at the moment.
One last thought - I was thinking of starting a sketch blog of some sort. you know, take pictures (or scan but mine isn't working) of things that were drawn and post it for everyone to see. I really do draw a lot but never upload them to sites like deviantArt if it isn't finished in some way. And I do not like uploading sketches either - it looks like crap since it's like an online gallery/portfolio.
Ah, there's my thoughts for tonight.
So I'm sitting here thinking of a rant I could type up. A few seconds later, I change my mind - "who would want to read a rant," I query, "I do doubt that I'll make much sense." So this won't be a rant (hopefully) - and it's not directed at anyone here either (many of my rants aren't anyway). :)
Sunday Scribblings #172 - The Plan
Why not write? Just write.I suppose I'm fairly upset because 1) I keep writing for ch.7 of YZ but it FAILS every single time and I have to start over 2) I'm caught between wanting to draw because I've got some people counting on me now (three or four - including myself since that was my first career choice) 3) It's super, super, super HOT and dry and we're trying to save electricity by not turning on the AC.
Technical terms literally cramp my style - my voice -
You're killing Art did you know?
Overly literal
Overly realist
Sometimes over-thinking situations can land you in the gutter - how very sad -
To you
From me
A present of everlasting scorn - Happy Birthday -
Here's my broken piece of Art
wrapped all nice and pretty and scented of the most pleasant smell -
It's just what you wanted isn't it?
Loosen up
Chill out
Make the best of your time instead of moping about -
Quit marching around -
only one of the many participating in Their Grand Plan -
Get the hell out of that gutter and move the way you want to
We all have a song, a beat, we move to
We may not agree but we walk a similar path -
Don't ask questions about Art
Just Do It.
I'm caught between a crossroads and I'm not sure what to do. One side says write, the other says draw, going forward means I'm stalling till I get to another crossroads and, who knows? That might be the last time I get to stall my way through? *sighs*
Anywho, I found this site where a published writer gives advice (here). I thought it was pretty helpful. :) Oh. And here's something I'm reading at the moment.
One last thought - I was thinking of starting a sketch blog of some sort. you know, take pictures (or scan but mine isn't working) of things that were drawn and post it for everyone to see. I really do draw a lot but never upload them to sites like deviantArt if it isn't finished in some way. And I do not like uploading sketches either - it looks like crap since it's like an online gallery/portfolio.
Ah, there's my thoughts for tonight.
the cruel old woman
I never got to post this - so here it is... A poem I think from sometime in June?
i dreamed a dream where everything had gone away and they didn't say good-bye. all that was left was a cold-hearted spinster of a woman who refused to look the other way.
they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where everything disappeared and left behind an outline of dust. all that was left was a cold surface and the dust that surrounded the objects that didn't last for forever as i had imagined.
they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where everything crumbled to dust and blew away in the wind. all that was left was the residue on the hands that held it all, clutched at it till forever crumbled along with it. all that was left was a defenseless cold heart more vulnerable than i ever wanted it to be.
they all said good-bye
she bade farewell
they bade farewell
she said good-bye
she then stared straight at her cruel old self
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where i cried for myself for being too much like that cruel old woman - that stubborn stoic independent woman who's also bitter and despondent - if i let go of those dear to me.
we all said good-bye
we all bade farewell
unconsciously to the cruel old woman
and we continued our way
and all that was left was a path of light for the cruel old woman to follow, a light that reached into the heavens and she refused to look the other way.
i dreamed a dream where everything had gone away and they didn't say good-bye. all that was left was a cold-hearted spinster of a woman who refused to look the other way.
they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where everything disappeared and left behind an outline of dust. all that was left was a cold surface and the dust that surrounded the objects that didn't last for forever as i had imagined.
they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where everything crumbled to dust and blew away in the wind. all that was left was the residue on the hands that held it all, clutched at it till forever crumbled along with it. all that was left was a defenseless cold heart more vulnerable than i ever wanted it to be.
they all said good-bye
she bade farewell
they bade farewell
she said good-bye
she then stared straight at her cruel old self
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way
i dreamed a dream where i cried for myself for being too much like that cruel old woman - that stubborn stoic independent woman who's also bitter and despondent - if i let go of those dear to me.
we all said good-bye
we all bade farewell
unconsciously to the cruel old woman
and we continued our way
and all that was left was a path of light for the cruel old woman to follow, a light that reached into the heavens and she refused to look the other way.
Just a little down...
I've been neglecting blogger but everyone has those reasons that deters them from doing thing they enjoy (and yes, that means that I like posting on Blogger, no matter if what I post gets no comments).
It's the fun of blogging on the internet. :)
It's the fun of blogging on the internet. :)
What is this,
that I see
floating in the far plane
A light
a fallen star
A wish that had never been made
I take the star
in it's ethereal glow
holding it gingerly in my hands
I utter the words
those incandescent words
of thoughtless wishes and wants in my mind
Only, I find
the star loses it's glow
a second too late and white as snow
Crumbling in my hands
no matter how many times I call it's name
the name on which I had forgotten
Lost, yet again
on a world ever moving
of time never stopping
Dreams stay only
as an illusion
and incorporeal to the touch
Always spanning
between both worlds
but existing in only one
The sad, sad truth
of what was never accomplished
for there is no instant gratification.
that I see
floating in the far plane
A light
a fallen star
A wish that had never been made
I take the star
in it's ethereal glow
holding it gingerly in my hands
I utter the words
those incandescent words
of thoughtless wishes and wants in my mind
Only, I find
the star loses it's glow
a second too late and white as snow
Crumbling in my hands
no matter how many times I call it's name
the name on which I had forgotten
Lost, yet again
on a world ever moving
of time never stopping
Dreams stay only
as an illusion
and incorporeal to the touch
Always spanning
between both worlds
but existing in only one
The sad, sad truth
of what was never accomplished
for there is no instant gratification.
Poetry & blankets make for lazy afternoons EDIT
What is there
but a bleeding heart
that tears
so easily in your hands
thou art—
a lover
a dreamer
a friend
a schemer
The hand I held out
you didn't take
your eyes unnervingly cold with hate
at the weakness I displayed
how long must thou make—
me wait
for thy hand
a smile
a reassuring glance
Before I tumble to the depths below
deeper and deeper, per chance
into what my sorrows created—
a place with no sweet hello—
"my dear
what keeps you here?
your tears are spent
your heart taken...
what is left but a hollow maiden?"
Woe is me
glass eyes replacing
the once bright sheen; she—
through the mirror—her beating heart racing—
under the familiar gaze
of a master, a maker
of broken hearts
of legends and legacies
the maiden lost in a spell
that ordinary men cannot quell
Woe!
All is lost!
Drop the red tresses of the end curtain
to silence the hungry crowd below
For there can never be an encore, herein
the dwelling of the one in the guise of a crow.
What can I say that today was a lethargic day but the weather was very nice.but a bleeding heart
that tears
so easily in your hands
thou art—
a lover
a dreamer
a friend
a schemer
The hand I held out
you didn't take
your eyes unnervingly cold with hate
at the weakness I displayed
how long must thou make—
me wait
for thy hand
a smile
a reassuring glance
Before I tumble to the depths below
deeper and deeper, per chance
into what my sorrows created—
a place with no sweet hello—
"my dear
what keeps you here?
your tears are spent
your heart taken...
what is left but a hollow maiden?"
Woe is me
glass eyes replacing
the once bright sheen; she—
through the mirror—her beating heart racing—
under the familiar gaze
of a master, a maker
of broken hearts
of legends and legacies
the maiden lost in a spell
that ordinary men cannot quell
Woe!
All is lost!
Drop the red tresses of the end curtain
to silence the hungry crowd below
For there can never be an encore, herein
the dwelling of the one in the guise of a crow.
The news of swine flu is all over the place here but no one has the illness as of yet (well, not that I know of). I'm going to keep this a short post since I decided to get something to eat right after posting something here (I don't know why I chose to post something in the first place).
Hmm...I have no rants or complaints, nor do I have any major problem on my mind right now. The only issue is my own laziness (I blame the warm blanket around my shoulders, it's making me sleepy) and the state testing shizz next week (SAT/CSAT's). I think I can muster up something about it... *gets thinking cap on, you know, the one with the lightbulb*
School test scores determine whether the government intervenes in the matters of education...not something other districts tend to be worried about since their students are a bit more competent when it comes to learning...but not for the school I go to. Ah, the woe that are tiny districts and tight compact housing with low wages. Now, it sounds a bit bad...it isn't but at least the mayor's doing something about it (putting new buildings, parks, schools, etc. etc.) hopefully the test scores will improve as well. :|
So state school or not? An interesting thing to keep in mind...
Oh. In second period today, tons of people were reaching for the hand sanitizer...and, why do I mention this? Because I sit next to the teacher's desk and the sanitzer is practically a hairsbreadth away. :| It's nice that it's getting the limelight and all but using antibacterial items too much may cause new bacteria to pop up who are immune to anti-anything. :|
Three cheers for evolution!
(Nah, I'm not angry.)
4/29/09 EDIT: Hmm, it appears that the flu did spread here. The elementary school got closed but the high school is still open (as you can tell I'm typing this in class, otherwise I would be sound asleep). Here's me wishing everyone well and to wash your hands kiddies.
I LOST THE GAME.
"(damnation of memory)"
Fading into a nightmare
of delusions of grandeur
and vain suppositions of power...?
The people...are fading too.
A wellspring of faith
brings hope but
like a flickering candle--
it dies in the midst of a rough wind.
Bring your hands together
from the invisible chain that binds
those with the same fate
and fight to return to what once was.
A conquest of peace
brings about destruction--
Does this make it all the more worthy
or meaningful? meaningless?
Nightmares last
as long as the night lasts
but life continues onward for eternity--
Will we ever wake up?
A shallow sleep
is not sufficient
to take back what was lost
and forsaken.
in memoria di me--
aegri somnia de perdido.
(in memory of myself--
lost in troubled dreams)
--damnatio memoriae
Fading into a nightmare
of delusions of grandeur
and vain suppositions of power...?
The people...are fading too.
A wellspring of faith
brings hope but
like a flickering candle--
it dies in the midst of a rough wind.
Bring your hands together
from the invisible chain that binds
those with the same fate
and fight to return to what once was.
A conquest of peace
brings about destruction--
Does this make it all the more worthy
or meaningful? meaningless?
Nightmares last
as long as the night lasts
but life continues onward for eternity--
Will we ever wake up?
A shallow sleep
is not sufficient
to take back what was lost
and forsaken.
in memoria di me--
aegri somnia de perdido.
(in memory of myself--
lost in troubled dreams)
--damnatio memoriae
What ho! (the Shakespeare meaning please) Tis' another weekend to which I'm grateful is finally here. It's been a tough week for me but I'm sure others have it tougher than I. (If so, how are you? and you've got a listener on your side if one is called for.)
So lately I've been assigned by my Graphics teacher to design something for a T-shirt--it's a class project--but, what he doesn't know, is that I've been in a big artistic slump ever since I've been writing. Though I don't see it as a bad thing since I've been writing more poems as of late and that's quite an achievement for me (though they don't make much sense at times, or they focus on a character or a specific story). But I'm glad that I've gotten into the habit of writing in poem form since it helped me on an English assignment I had to do on Tennessee Williams' play A Streetcar Named Desire. It's a lovely play, though violent and at times suggestive, but it gave me a lot of insight on real-life conflicts and character development.
The strange thing in my school is that no one likes the books that are assigned...is that true? maybe, but I previously watched the movie and loved it so I loved the play version twice as much. Then, there was Millers' The Crucible, which I liked and made me take an interest in Nathaniel Hawthorne's works... Before that, we had to read various articles, though a bit boring (since the way we did these were really repetitive) they were on interesting subjects. Some, if I remember correctly were on: childhood obesity--who is responsible?; teenage crimes and whether sending them to adult jail was justified...things like that.
...I believe what I was trying to say is that reading is a fun and educational activity. Call me old fashioned but people, especially teenagers need to read more. I'm kind of tired, if not a little annoyed, when a student says something that is so obvious if they had read the material assigned.
I'm at a crossroads right now. One, I could continue ranting about what I find faulty in the educational system, while implementing multiple exclamation marks in the process. Or, two, I stick to my Libran nature and not poke the sleeping bear with a 3 cm toothpick. IT JUST CAN'T BE DONE! And besides, my mind wanders faster than the Roadrunner does from Wile E. Coyote. (I'm trying not to focus on anger because it makes me feel idiotic as I type.)
Is it just me who feels a bit lost? Probably...or not.
...Here's something that was mentioned today.
RULE 1: You are playing The Game.
RULE 2: Whenever you think about The Game, you lose.
RULE 3: Loss must be announced
The objective of the game is to forget it exists.
Random song & poem for you all
Not much going on, except the week is almost over and that I'm trudging along with the writing. A couple of jarring things in real life have come up but it won't affect my internet life that much. :) And here's me using the concept of Pandora's box yet again while trying to keep that fairy-tale/fable-esque feeling since morality (or heaven and hell) is mentioned a lot in those stories... Oh, try to guess what the title is here. *goes to sleep*
Honor thy knight's code
and protect thy princess from harm
Slay the dragon barring your path
to claim said princess
as your beloved bride
Enter the chapel
in white and noble dress
awaiting the hand of your ethereal bride
Speak wishes and promises
sealing Pandora's box with a sweet and holy kiss
Burn, burn, burn
the holy kingdom above
Desecrate the sanctuary
that houses all the holy angels
and bring death to earthly heaven
Beckon the devil's advocates
and the unholy king to unleash his wrath
All the sinful sons and daughters
gather on this holy matrimonial day
to blacken the air with their spite
The sweet flower beckoning
thus plucked
unlocks the horrid chest
Unleashing the hellish desires
that overrun the knight's young heart
Obliterating the purity
that had dominated
this once magnanimous soul
For the angel withers under the devil's touch
and all is lost in the material world
CHIVALRY IS DEAD!
and protect thy princess from harm
Slay the dragon barring your path
to claim said princess
as your beloved bride
Enter the chapel
in white and noble dress
awaiting the hand of your ethereal bride
Speak wishes and promises
sealing Pandora's box with a sweet and holy kiss
Burn, burn, burn
the holy kingdom above
Desecrate the sanctuary
that houses all the holy angels
and bring death to earthly heaven
Beckon the devil's advocates
and the unholy king to unleash his wrath
All the sinful sons and daughters
gather on this holy matrimonial day
to blacken the air with their spite
The sweet flower beckoning
thus plucked
unlocks the horrid chest
Unleashing the hellish desires
that overrun the knight's young heart
Obliterating the purity
that had dominated
this once magnanimous soul
For the angel withers under the devil's touch
and all is lost in the material world
CHIVALRY IS DEAD!
SS# 158 Scary
Fear starts
in the deepest part of our hearts
because that's where we keep things true
In the merciless fog we call doubt
there is no way out
but up towards the heavens
Yet we cannot fly
no matter how much we beg and cry
to sprout wings on our undeserving backs
We're left here to face
what we've tried so hard to erase
from our thoughts and everyday life
So we wander, wondering
how and when the end to this suffering
finally arrives
But is there a way
to find the light of day
in this cumbersome shroud?
in the deepest part of our hearts
because that's where we keep things true
In the merciless fog we call doubt
there is no way out
but up towards the heavens
Yet we cannot fly
no matter how much we beg and cry
to sprout wings on our undeserving backs
We're left here to face
what we've tried so hard to erase
from our thoughts and everyday life
So we wander, wondering
how and when the end to this suffering
finally arrives
But is there a way
to find the light of day
in this cumbersome shroud?
My biggest fear probably is to keep burying things on top of another till it kills me from the inside out. D: That just sounds terrible.
Titles
Title, title, where art thou?
A name to call this story now;
Far and wide, I have sought,
A worthy name to fit this plot;
A list, reaching down, down, down,
All the way to that god-forsaken town;
St. Ezra, the name of an unholy saint,
Cannot possibly be the title I hope to take;
Of angels and demons, metaphorically, of innocence and sin,
Some kind of title...come on... What a rut I'm in!
A name to call this story now;
Far and wide, I have sought,
A worthy name to fit this plot;
A list, reaching down, down, down,
All the way to that god-forsaken town;
St. Ezra, the name of an unholy saint,
Cannot possibly be the title I hope to take;
Of angels and demons, metaphorically, of innocence and sin,
Some kind of title...come on... What a rut I'm in!
There's my dilemma for you...in nifty poem form. I have no fitting title for the re-write. But, I came here (since we have thirty minute periods b/c of an assembly before heading to Spring Break) to ask what defines a good title? Whether it's a story or even an essay (or a title for a person)... What does that title define for whatever object it's given?
I know that a title can't be given unless there was some sort of connection to, say...a book. The Metamorphosis obviously has some guy going through a great change. And The Idiot surely mentions...an idiot, to put it simply (but a lovable idiot at that). Oh. And a prime example: Harry Potter and the...(blah blah etc. etc.) You can't not know what's going to be introduced in the HP books if you haven't looked at the cover!
...So I'm sitting here wondering, and I have been sitting on this mental bench for awhile because all I can call my work now is Untitled or...the other names I listed next to all the character names and related poems. I've got to get focused on the main idea because, well, don't they sum up the most important part of a story? but in one word? (or three at best if you don't count those Panic! at the Disco songs...etc.)
A good title...before or after plot completion? :) Asking myself this, I say after plot completion. It only sounds right...*ponders*
Oh, Happy Thursday Bloggers it's almost the weekend and I hope everyone is pulling through fine...besides my title issue.
SS# 157 Celebration
I've been choosing not to rhyme lately :) but this poem I had fun doing. When I hear "celebration" I immediately think of something happy...how about you? EDIT: finally gave the darn poem a title.
"The Misadventures of the Working Man"
i wander
and wonder
the desire of a celebration
on the day
when Death decided to creep closer...
“what is the purpose?”
i query to no one in particular
but all there is around me
is stark artifice
and the mocking blue sky
people abound
their suitcases and suits
with straightened ties
and snazzy haircuts
all have somewhere to go
while, i on the other hand
return to the emptiness
that is my apartment
down the street
of a begging homeless man
and somewhere along the curb
were the poorly disguised cars
and various transportation vehicles
of close friends and colleagues
with portfolio in hand
the key well into the lock
i take a deep breath
my eyes downcast
and open the door...
“SURPRISE!” they cry
CONGRATULATIONS!
writ on a banner on the wall
where balloons were set modestly
over a candle-lit cake
my dejected expression
caused the shouting party
to cease their revelry
and immediately became...
perplexed
as to what they were confused about
i didn't know, nor did i want to
but all i did know
was that the gathering was intended for my roommate
and i forgot to bring a present
...go me.
"The Misadventures of the Working Man"
i wander
and wonder
the desire of a celebration
on the day
when Death decided to creep closer...
“what is the purpose?”
i query to no one in particular
but all there is around me
is stark artifice
and the mocking blue sky
people abound
their suitcases and suits
with straightened ties
and snazzy haircuts
all have somewhere to go
while, i on the other hand
return to the emptiness
that is my apartment
down the street
of a begging homeless man
and somewhere along the curb
were the poorly disguised cars
and various transportation vehicles
of close friends and colleagues
with portfolio in hand
the key well into the lock
i take a deep breath
my eyes downcast
and open the door...
“SURPRISE!” they cry
CONGRATULATIONS!
writ on a banner on the wall
where balloons were set modestly
over a candle-lit cake
my dejected expression
caused the shouting party
to cease their revelry
and immediately became...
perplexed
as to what they were confused about
i didn't know, nor did i want to
but all i did know
was that the gathering was intended for my roommate
and i forgot to bring a present
...go me.
(hesitation)
I just wanted to post something I thought was nice...though unrelated to me personally. :)
darkness surrounds
the depths of my mind
where dreams and hopes
illuminate this entity
like pandora's box
there is a key
and demons
with hope stashed in the very bottom
though where that key is...
it's in my hand
in my mind
as my greatest fear
do i?
must i?
i don't want to yet i have to
wake up and live and forget...
i dismiss my dream
as another phantasm
of a fragment of a memory i had lost
or a never ending night terror haunting me still
...my hesitation
what is it that i had forgotten?
what was it that led me here?
i see a box in the nightstand and a key in the drawer
i take the key with the desire to open it
...but I stop
the peal of childlike laughter
rings in my ears
clear like the resonant bell
that will ring on my wedding day
this box
i suddenly can't remember...the purpose
as i stood here
perplexed
then a voice calls
my name
and a time
to where i have to be in an hour
hearing this
i drop the key
and dress in a hurry
unawares of what i left behind
...the key to what i'd forgotten
wrapped in a pretty pink box
was the hope i had when i was twelve
to dance as elegantly as a swan
and somewhere along the lines
a faint tune could be heard
pachelbel's canon in d
in music box form
it was as if my heart had been pulled
like the strings of a violin
as i fell to the ground with grateful tears
to remember the dream i erased
the hesitation of hope
is purposeful i guess
for i'm grateful
for both the song and the two arms locked in a comforting embrace
only in a dream
does pandora's box close
but this isn't a dream isn't it?
soft words melding into a song...
a lullaby to quell
even the deepest of fears
for what i gave up is
for someone i equally loved.
darkness surrounds
the depths of my mind
where dreams and hopes
illuminate this entity
like pandora's box
there is a key
and demons
with hope stashed in the very bottom
though where that key is...
it's in my hand
in my mind
as my greatest fear
do i?
must i?
i don't want to yet i have to
wake up and live and forget...
i dismiss my dream
as another phantasm
of a fragment of a memory i had lost
or a never ending night terror haunting me still
...my hesitation
what is it that i had forgotten?
what was it that led me here?
i see a box in the nightstand and a key in the drawer
i take the key with the desire to open it
...but I stop
the peal of childlike laughter
rings in my ears
clear like the resonant bell
that will ring on my wedding day
this box
i suddenly can't remember...the purpose
as i stood here
perplexed
then a voice calls
my name
and a time
to where i have to be in an hour
hearing this
i drop the key
and dress in a hurry
unawares of what i left behind
...the key to what i'd forgotten
wrapped in a pretty pink box
was the hope i had when i was twelve
to dance as elegantly as a swan
and somewhere along the lines
a faint tune could be heard
pachelbel's canon in d
in music box form
it was as if my heart had been pulled
like the strings of a violin
as i fell to the ground with grateful tears
to remember the dream i erased
the hesitation of hope
is purposeful i guess
for i'm grateful
for both the song and the two arms locked in a comforting embrace
only in a dream
does pandora's box close
but this isn't a dream isn't it?
soft words melding into a song...
a lullaby to quell
even the deepest of fears
for what i gave up is
for someone i equally loved.
Just a breather...
Come dance
in this twilight rondo;
take the hand of the devil's advocate, dressed in ebon and scarlet
embrace this nightmarish waltz
Spin spin
upon the reflecting marble;
pale moonlight lighting this hellish dance.
There are no eyes looking upon more you more lovingly than these--
from the devil dressed in finery--
An unbreakable bond
with hands clasped tight.
A devil's kiss--
takes you asunder into the world of sins and endless dances...
Come dance, eternally,
in this twilight rondo;
take the hand of the devil himself
and embrace this nightmarish waltz.
...some random concept for a writing project of mine.
What say you to a horror anthology? (Was what I literally said to myself some weeks ago...and I think I'm getting a cold of some sort because it hurts to swallow.)
I don't have much to say except that third quarter is almost over and I have this mondo (1500 words isn't so tough) report due for English on what it means to be an American. Sounds easy enough...kind of.
Nevertheless, school is just being school and I'm trying my very best to keep up with it. :)
Oh. I finished The Idiot some time ago as well. Honestly, I was swept away with every one of the characters and...like the empathetic person I am...had to cry at that final scene. Now, I don't find it shameful. I'm amazed that I can even be moved by a literary work that was done a couple hundred years ago (I believe)...but the same thing happened to me when I was reading Crime and Punishment...but I'm still in that amazed factor and have gotten to wondering about today's fiction...
But hey, that's just me rambling again.
By the way, seen any good movies lately?
Me? Not really. I thought that the Friday the 13th remake...hmm...I don't know, I think they tried too hard...In other words, it was horrible, no wait...either it wasn't horrible enough or it was so horrible that it warped my little mind...wait, that doesn't sound right. D:
Anyways, just so you know that I don't have a definite opinion about it because...because....
...
...huh, maybe it did warp my little mind (now if this computer wasn't angled a bit to the left.....)
Alright, I've go to go. :D
(It was fun rambling again.)
in this twilight rondo;
take the hand of the devil's advocate, dressed in ebon and scarlet
embrace this nightmarish waltz
Spin spin
upon the reflecting marble;
pale moonlight lighting this hellish dance.
There are no eyes looking upon more you more lovingly than these--
from the devil dressed in finery--
An unbreakable bond
with hands clasped tight.
A devil's kiss--
takes you asunder into the world of sins and endless dances...
Come dance, eternally,
in this twilight rondo;
take the hand of the devil himself
and embrace this nightmarish waltz.
...some random concept for a writing project of mine.
What say you to a horror anthology? (Was what I literally said to myself some weeks ago...and I think I'm getting a cold of some sort because it hurts to swallow.)
I don't have much to say except that third quarter is almost over and I have this mondo (1500 words isn't so tough) report due for English on what it means to be an American. Sounds easy enough...kind of.
Nevertheless, school is just being school and I'm trying my very best to keep up with it. :)
Oh. I finished The Idiot some time ago as well. Honestly, I was swept away with every one of the characters and...like the empathetic person I am...had to cry at that final scene. Now, I don't find it shameful. I'm amazed that I can even be moved by a literary work that was done a couple hundred years ago (I believe)...but the same thing happened to me when I was reading Crime and Punishment...but I'm still in that amazed factor and have gotten to wondering about today's fiction...
But hey, that's just me rambling again.
By the way, seen any good movies lately?
Me? Not really. I thought that the Friday the 13th remake...hmm...I don't know, I think they tried too hard...In other words, it was horrible, no wait...either it wasn't horrible enough or it was so horrible that it warped my little mind...wait, that doesn't sound right. D:
Anyways, just so you know that I don't have a definite opinion about it because...because....
...
...huh, maybe it did warp my little mind (now if this computer wasn't angled a bit to the left.....)
Alright, I've go to go. :D
(It was fun rambling again.)
SS: #127- Miracle
Allow me to ask for a miracle...
In other words, a wish to come true.
I'm sure, for the people that live on this earth number as many as the stars in the universe,
that we all wish for something at sometime.
A selfish desire perhaps?
Maybe a well-wisher instead.
Whatever and however we wish for something--most likely, it does not come true.
To put this in my terms, a wish is similar to a goal.
Maybe not SO much as similar but it is something we want to happen.
The only thing people don't realize is that a wish comes true from our efforts.
Why else do we do so?
To have some hope left in whatever situation that made us wish for something in the first place.
Then again, the word wish sounds a little silly (like the time when I thought I could claim that one star in the sky)
So, instead, grant me a miracle.
Or just let me utter these words to an empty space--regaining the small flame that died from my tears.
In other words, a wish to come true.
I'm sure, for the people that live on this earth number as many as the stars in the universe,
that we all wish for something at sometime.
A selfish desire perhaps?
Maybe a well-wisher instead.
Whatever and however we wish for something--most likely, it does not come true.
To put this in my terms, a wish is similar to a goal.
Maybe not SO much as similar but it is something we want to happen.
The only thing people don't realize is that a wish comes true from our efforts.
Why else do we do so?
To have some hope left in whatever situation that made us wish for something in the first place.
Then again, the word wish sounds a little silly (like the time when I thought I could claim that one star in the sky)
So, instead, grant me a miracle.
Or just let me utter these words to an empty space--regaining the small flame that died from my tears.
"For a Pessimist I'm Pretty Optimistic"
I've recently got to writing on a journal I bought long ago...somehow when I type the words don't come as easily compared to longhand. I've also been in a slump so I easily broke in about 5 or so poems--anyways, I thought that I'd post my best and somewhat most personal so far...although it doesn't seem like a poem. (Well I could be wrong about that...and I probably overdid on the bold text thing)
(btw, Paramore rules!)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Redemption"
Confrontations,
Something I cannot do.
With fear holding me back
a constant pressure on my shoulders--
a pain--
long past this time.
I lock the door,
close the windows--
and hide from this world.
A blanket, this pencil and my thoughts
unravel and flow
out like tears.
A small smile and a wave
a bow.
I constantly look down
only to realize a small, meager self
who easily blends and shrinks
among the scenery.
Hidden feelings,
a closed heart,
shadow corrupts the sky,
that once shone so clearly,
that once smiled...
begins to rain.
No sun, nor moon,
no stars
to light this path;
an already
overlooked path--
redemption.
Can the world be closed off
so easily? a life and this song
I cannot sing,
see,
hear,
breathe.
I suffocate
or do I drown?
No walls for protection
and I freeze.
Desperation causes me to
succumb to this life.
I want to change,
to remove this backdrop
of loneliness and
disparity--light
cannot shine unless
the clouds disperse.
I want to see the moon
and the stars
and the dark sky--
the ambiance of night--
to see the sun rise again
and the picturesque light.
My despair shall follow
like the shadow at my feet--
like the coming of afternoons
and evenings--
a consistent and eternal
shadow that I cannot escape from.
Smile,
be happy,
run fast and
feel free...
turn around,
and the shadow remains.
Reality may not be my best friend.
I want an escape--
a world I created
with these hands,
these tainted hands managed
to create something pure.
The air of innocence
the naivete' of pre-adolescence,
a child's world--
my escape.
A dream that seems too real
and yet false.
But should it matter?
This world exists for
forever
but would disappear in
the real world.
Can I sleep forever?
Material things
lose value as
this body grows and
the stars look less bright.
I hang my head low, my heart aching,
for this un-dirtied world.
Hopelness...
but happiness
as I hold this pencil,
as I continue forging
that so-called pure world--
my world.
How long must I hope
for a better reality?
How long will I continue
to hide
and always
seek for an exit?
I want a
change
in
life but I
don't want
to lose
my way.
Learn and
adapt.
Accept the fact
that these worlds cannot possibly
coexist? or
exist together?
A child's thought...
to have to choose between
two things
but desires both
...
to benefit from both.
Consequences
and
confrontations
go well
together
don't they?
I run from consequences,
I appease rather than
fight.
I can't fight back
for I lack the
power and strength.
I may devise
or think twice--
to find a way out of a
situation I'd
hate to be in.
The clouds close in.
The rain turns to
white--it snows.
Stuck in a rut once again,
my hands and lips turning blue...
and I am lost within the white.
Pure white...
am I undeserving?
This world I created backfires
so I reel back,
I cry as I blow
at the burns on my hands.
Stand up or you'll be
lost forever,
underneath everything
you created--
this voice I hear is faint
but the words are strong.
Did I not desire to
sleep forever?
Then why do I still
try to stand?
My eyes heavy and I
lost all feeling in these hands.
I suddenly desire
the acceptance of others,
to find that road...
the one that's mostly seen
when the time is 'too late'...
but I'll keep looking.
I will try to forge
my own path if I
cannot find it.
Seeing as I am now,
I probably have already
lost sight of it.
I will try to
depend less on others.
I will be
the driving force...
I will, I desire,
to succeed on my own terms.
Even if I cannot
see the stars anymore,
I will, instead,
forge my own
and follow the light it brings,
no matter how meager.
Even this pure world
is corrupt...
but with this newfound light
--I can rebuild it
as many times I want.
As I see fit.
I want to burn everything
and build
over the ashes;
the remnants of this past.
Like a phoenix,
I want to be reborn.
(btw, Paramore rules!)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Redemption"
Confrontations,
Something I cannot do.
With fear holding me back
a constant pressure on my shoulders--
a pain--
long past this time.
I lock the door,
close the windows--
and hide from this world.
A blanket, this pencil and my thoughts
unravel and flow
out like tears.
A small smile and a wave
a bow.
I constantly look down
only to realize a small, meager self
who easily blends and shrinks
among the scenery.
Hidden feelings,
a closed heart,
shadow corrupts the sky,
that once shone so clearly,
that once smiled...
begins to rain.
No sun, nor moon,
no stars
to light this path;
an already
overlooked path--
redemption.
Can the world be closed off
so easily? a life and this song
I cannot sing,
see,
hear,
breathe.
I suffocate
or do I drown?
No walls for protection
and I freeze.
Desperation causes me to
succumb to this life.
I want to change,
to remove this backdrop
of loneliness and
disparity--light
cannot shine unless
the clouds disperse.
I want to see the moon
and the stars
and the dark sky--
the ambiance of night--
to see the sun rise again
and the picturesque light.
My despair shall follow
like the shadow at my feet--
like the coming of afternoons
and evenings--
a consistent and eternal
shadow that I cannot escape from.
Smile,
be happy,
run fast and
feel free...
turn around,
and the shadow remains.
Reality may not be my best friend.
I want an escape--
a world I created
with these hands,
these tainted hands managed
to create something pure.
The air of innocence
the naivete' of pre-adolescence,
a child's world--
my escape.
A dream that seems too real
and yet false.
But should it matter?
This world exists for
forever
but would disappear in
the real world.
Can I sleep forever?
Material things
lose value as
this body grows and
the stars look less bright.
I hang my head low, my heart aching,
for this un-dirtied world.
Hopelness...
but happiness
as I hold this pencil,
as I continue forging
that so-called pure world--
my world.
How long must I hope
for a better reality?
How long will I continue
to hide
and always
seek for an exit?
I want a
change
in
life but I
don't want
to lose
my way.
Learn and
adapt.
Accept the fact
that these worlds cannot possibly
coexist? or
exist together?
A child's thought...
to have to choose between
two things
but desires both
...
to benefit from both.
Consequences
and
confrontations
go well
together
don't they?
I run from consequences,
I appease rather than
fight.
I can't fight back
for I lack the
power and strength.
I may devise
or think twice--
to find a way out of a
situation I'd
hate to be in.
The clouds close in.
The rain turns to
white--it snows.
Stuck in a rut once again,
my hands and lips turning blue...
and I am lost within the white.
Pure white...
am I undeserving?
This world I created backfires
so I reel back,
I cry as I blow
at the burns on my hands.
Stand up or you'll be
lost forever,
underneath everything
you created--
this voice I hear is faint
but the words are strong.
Did I not desire to
sleep forever?
Then why do I still
try to stand?
My eyes heavy and I
lost all feeling in these hands.
I suddenly desire
the acceptance of others,
to find that road...
the one that's mostly seen
when the time is 'too late'...
but I'll keep looking.
I will try to forge
my own path if I
cannot find it.
Seeing as I am now,
I probably have already
lost sight of it.
I will try to
depend less on others.
I will be
the driving force...
I will, I desire,
to succeed on my own terms.
Even if I cannot
see the stars anymore,
I will, instead,
forge my own
and follow the light it brings,
no matter how meager.
Even this pure world
is corrupt...
but with this newfound light
--I can rebuild it
as many times I want.
As I see fit.
I want to burn everything
and build
over the ashes;
the remnants of this past.
Like a phoenix,
I want to be reborn.