Akishima
Well-Known Member
Thanks!
The Writing Operation!
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G
Guest
Finally found time to respond. Before diving in, what you mentioned is too damn true, that at the time of writing you didn't realize how much the line rang true for you. It's one of the many joys of writing poetry, the subconscious truths about ourselves that we can reflect back on. They can be like incredible little diaries that chart our progress as individuals.
Moving into the poem, I think this one actually plays out like an ars poetica, but in which you actually layer your personal journey with that of the poem itself, a fusion of skin and ink. I've written an ars poetica before, and i'm quite proud of it (I may link it after this if I'm feeling frisky) but it doesn't have this deeply personal philosophy or spirituality you have resonating throughout. There is also something to be said of the structure, how it starts off clean and orderly, but as the emotional tone of the work matures, the form breaks down. Your line splits, fragments, and even narration start to change, and I think that's a very effective device that helps this piece have such a strong emotional charge for me. Thanks for sharing!!
Also, here's my ars poetica.
Juxtaposition
Poetry is a rare flower, an elusive thing,
A slip of a thought, that lingers eternal,
Or filled with such depths, never to be plumbed,
But maybe I’m wrong,
and poetry is quite transparent,
and leaves before sticking,
Written by someone who knows all the rules
Golden cracks in blackened wings.
A slip of a thought, that lingers eternal,
Celestial muse or deception infernal.
Or filled with such depths, never to be plumbed,
Cloyed and charmed by forked silvertongues.
But maybe I’m wrong,
and poetry is quite transparent,
Just like a juvenile’s lullaby sung
That goes in one ear,by their parent
and leaves before sticking,
Making some sense but not really clicking.
Written by someone who knows all the rules
But decides to break them.
Akishima
Well-Known Member
You are too kind.
I have agonized over how to organize that poem, because it's the first non-rhyming one I wrote, and I am not really familiar with free verse. However, from what I've seen, poems like this are organized to make the most impact while reading, so I tried to group the lines accordingly. From an organization standpoint, I hate how the structure breaks down, but, I don't want to change the way it's written, because it was the result of a lot of introspection, and kind of sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus (which probably just means I should have tried harder). I was going through a rather tumultuous time in my life (mentally) with all the possibilities before me, feeling hopeful, but also feeling overwhelmed and kind of lost. It's gone through many organizational iterations and I'm still not sure I'm happy with it, but glad you liked it.
I love your poem! The metaphors make it so alive, and the humor is on-point. I think that's one of the great things about poetry- it can be incredibly deep, but the author's ability to weave into it a sense of whimsy is what really makes it stand out and delightful to read. As you said, juxtaposition. Poetry is all about contrasts, both in subject and mood. And those final two lines make me grin, as you broke the rules and admitted it. :D
G
Guest
For those interested; the eBook version of my novel, Mourning Sky: Evan's Story, is free to read for the next 48 hours.
Rascal
Gold Supporter
Wake up.
It's over now, so you should be able to wake up. I'm honestly not sure why you're still asleep. I know you almost left us, but that time has passed, and you're alive. Things couldn't be better for you out here, if you could only wake up to see it, then you'd know...
So please, Wake up.
"I'M UP, I'm up..." you exclaimed, wiping the pool of saliva that had accumulated on your hands off on your jacket, as your best friend stood over you and shook his head incredulously.
"That was a tremendous display. Good job. I honestly never knew it was possible to fall asleep during a fireworks show until today." he said, flashing you a sarcastic grin.
"Ugh... don't look at me like that. You're the one who made me talk to that girl last night. I barely got any sleep because of it." you lamented, stretching the sleep from your body as another colorful explosion went off in the stark black sky above.
His mouth fell open. "Do you mean to tell me you actually scored?!"
You exhaled through your nose with a smile. "Actually, no. But we did talk for such a long time on her doorstep after we got that uber ride home. But we're meeting again next week."
"unbelievable. And here I was thinking you were some kind of eunuch, with all your preaching about how you didn't want a relationship whenever we were out... Why did I not receive a single text about this?!"
"well, we DID have a lot to drink." you explained wryly.
He went back to shaking his head, with a different tone this time. "Man, I knew you could do it. From the very beginning. When we started hanging out I didn't even think I could talk to girls until you encouraged me. As a matter of fact I couldn't talk to anyone. I couldn't just let you fall back into the place I was. Glad you're finally getting around, man"
You stared at him. "Remind me, when did we start hanging out?"
"Wow you're conked. How many drinks did you have with this girl exactly?"
"Just humor me."
"Right. It was back in that networking class, when you helped me out with the routing assignment. No one else approached me in school for years, from high school to university. I was becoming a real recluse, but you broke me out of my shell."
You looked down at your feet and put a hand on the back of your head. "That's right, that professor's class. I always saw you sitting alone and never looking at anyone, so I tried to start a conversation."
"Yeah... also by the way you're 21 years old, you live in the US, and you attend university in the honors roll. Anything else you need updated on, oh time traveler from the past? Or are we ending this stupid bit?" he chuckled.
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, jealously is unbecoming though. Don't get salty just because your grades are worse than mine."
He opened his mouth to add respond, but another explosion drowned it out.
"What was that? You're gonna have to speak up. here." You said, taking a bite out of your hot dog.
No response.
"Hey, will you..." you turned to look at your friend. His lips were moving, but there was no sound.
Come to think of it, there was no sound at all, all of the sudden. Just a faint cracking in the background, as if fire was burning right behind your ears. His expressions got more and more intense, as if he was yelling at you. But you couldn't hear him. All you could do was look at him in confusion.
Fireworks whizzed overhead and exploded. People clapped and cheered. Your friend was touching your shoulder, his eyes expressing an intense earnest. No sound. Just the crackling of fire.
Wake up.
"I'm sorry, am I rambling?" the girl looked to the side and reached for her ear sheepishly.
"What?"
"You were looking off into the distance real hard there. Either you noticed that the pub has new molding on its walls or i'm boring the hell out of you."
"Oh, sorry. I... um... where were we?"
"You were just about to tell me about your dad." she squinted at you. "After I told you about mine."
"Oh right. Well, I haven't seen the guy in years. Since I was in high school, matter of fact. From what I remember we got along really well. But my parents would fight off and on... there would be periods of peace, but really you could tell he was stressed even then. I think they were just staying together for me. I was an only child after all."
You paused to take a drink, looking at the ice cubes floating up toward you. "But one day it just got too much for him, I guess. I hugged him one morning right before he left for work, and then never saw him again. Never saw my high school teacher again either, I noticed. It was reported that she'd resigned. Once I was older I started to realize the odd coincidence may have been more than that. She would talk to him every time he came to pick me up, after all. They sure got along well, ya know?"
She ran a hand through her hair and laughed. "Yeah. But most high school kids would pick up on that, even."
You chuckled. "Well most kids wouldn't want to believe their own fathers were so unfaithful. But also, I was a dumb kid, what can I say. Sheltered was more like it, I suppose. Didn't learn about the good 'ol 'birds and bees' til the young young age of fifteen."
Her smile slimmed. "I know how that is, obviously. Like I said, I wasn't even allowed to leave the house for the longest time."
You paused. "You weren't eh?"
She sat back in her chair. "Yeah I just told you. Weren't you listening?"
You held a hand up. "Ah the alcohol's getting to me. I remember now."
You retraced the conversation in your mind, about how she was abused by her single father. He had never let her outside. He home-schooled her sometimes, kept all her windows boarded and doors locked, in a damp, unkempt room furnished with crumbling pink wallpaper and ratty dolls atop dodgy shelves that were just a hair away from leaving their posts on the wall and crumbling down.
He beat her whenever she made mention of wanting to go outside. When he wasn't yelling at her, he was getting high off his ass downstairs, or getting it on with some discount hooker in the next room over. The more you heard about the man, the more you hated his guts.
"What I didn't tell you is how that affected me." she mentioned. "I mean obviously it took me forever to recover, and I still haven't really. But usually, I don't speak to men at all. I've been getting better about it, but this is the longest conversation with one I've had in a long time. I guess you got me to open up with your story."
"Yeah. I'm glad I finally decided to talk to you."
"I was wondering when you would. I've had my eye on you too if you can believe that."
she paused.
"Do... do you wanna meet up somewhere next week?"
You looked closely at her. She had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. That's what you had noticed every weekend you went out drinking with your friend, more than anything else. Every week you sat closer just to get a glimpse of them. They were lime green. The brightest you had ever seen. Or were they blue? Or... brown, maybe? No. Grey.
Suddenly you noticed a wave of dizziness was coming over you. Everything started becoming blurry. The color drained from the room.
"Hello? Don't tell me you're surprised," she said, looking down.
"No it's..." you started. But you couldn't even make her out anymore. The entire room was fuzzy and your head was pounding.
You fell backwards out of your chair from the dizziness, and the lights got brighter and brighter until you felt completely blind. You put your hands up to shield your eyes, and started shouting from the pain. A loud whirring noise rang through your head. Everything was bright and loud and painful.
Please wake up.
You squinted in the bright light as the garage door raised to unveil the merciless sun's rays which scratched at your eyes for the first time all weekend. Your hands outstretched to shield your face from the light, you recoiled. "Damn, I really need to get out more," you said through clenched teeth. "That project was killing me."
"I worry about you, you know. You work too hard sometimes."
You whirled around to see your dad standing there, his finger still on the garage door opener. He looked disheveled, like he was just on a bender. But there was a smile on his face you didn't recognize at all. Some warmth that you had long forgotten was contained in it. He looked content.
You smiled back. "You sure are looking well!" you exclaimed, turning back around to the sun.
He pushed his lower lip up and made his mouth into a straight line. "Well, I'm just glad you were so open to hearing from me after so many years I guess. I was so sure you'd never want anything to do with me again."
You turned around again. "You reached out to me?"
He looked confused. "Of course. Many times. Well, I suppose I didn't tell you this part- that letter wasn't the first. At first I thought you were just ignoring my calls, but I realized you had just switched numbers since high school. So I sent you that letter you're holding, old-fashioned style. I didn't really expect a response though. So I was surprised."
You looked down at your hand. It suddenly came back to you. "Oh yeah. It was so heartfelt, and unexpected... I was probably more surprised than you. I thought you had left us for good. I forgive you of course, as I've said."
"Yeah... sorry again."
"Please, I forgive you, just like the last 10 times you apologized this morning." you said, lowering your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you again. Honestly when you just dropped off the map and mom never told me where you were, I assumed you were dead. That's what all the kids at my school said too, at the time. That, and that you kidnapped our teacher or something. I didn't want to believe it, of course."
He looked embarrassed. "I made a mistake. It was all my fault and my lack of character that led me to that mistake, to be honest. No matter how much I wanted to blame your mother for all her harrassment, she was the one who wanted to make it work the most." He opened the car door and motioned me to the opposite side.
Thoughtfully, I wandered over and climbed into the passenger's seat. "Though I am wondering, why did it take you so long to contact us?"
He looked off into the distance, past the driveway as he started the car.
"It's complicated. A lot happened after that. I got involved in some things I shouldn't have. Even ended up in jail. My girlf-... er... your teacher had convinced me to call a lawyer for my last call instead of you guys. It was really just mistake after mistake. But I've come to terms with it, and after I got out I made my first attempt to contact you. I'll tell you all the details when we get to the restaurant."
You grimaced. "It's alright, you don't have to if it's too-"
"No," he stopped you. "You deserve to know the whole truth. After leaving you so quickly, I haven't been able to live with myself. The least you deserve is my honesty."
You smiled warmly at him. Your mind flooded with memories of your childhood, all those times he took you to the park every day after school for long walks and talks about whatever you were interested in. He truly loved you, despite all his faults. And now you could finally pick up where you left off.
You couldn't believe you had almost thrown his letters away.
As the car pulled out of the driveway, a tear fell from your eye and landed gently on your hand.
But you didn't feel it.
You stopped, and felt at your left hand with your right. Nothing. No feeling. No sense of touch. Your arms were completely numb. You tried to feel your face but your arms wouldn't lift themselves up anymore. They just stayed at your sides, limp. You could just barely hear your dad go on talking, but you couldn't see him. You couldn't move your eyes. The only thing you could do was watch the scenery go by from the passengers seat, and listen to the subtle ringing in your ears.
Come on. Wake up.
It's over now, so you should be able to wake up. I'm honestly not sure why you're still asleep. Really, things couldn't be better for you out here, if you could only wake up to see it, then you'd know...
Everyone's still there. Everyone.
That girl you saw every saturday evening in the bar, but never talked to because you were too nervous. You don't even know the color of her eyes.
That shy boy in class you wanted to befriend but would never open up, but didn't confront because you were too busy.
Your dad who left you and your mom so many years ago without a word, but for whom you never opened his letters due to spite.
The fireworks show you went to alone and left alone.
The bar you got wasted in alone.
The car you tried to drive home on your own anyways.
You stared up at the sky for so long after you crashed, surrounded by the smoldering remains of your car. The concussion and the sun working simultaneously to blind you. Your arms broken, nerves severed, completely numb to the pain of your burns. When they tried to revive you, you were already past the point of no return.
Right now you're just seeing what everyone sees, their lives as they should have been, and their lives as they were. That's what happens during judgement.
But you see, the thing is, you didn't do what you were supposed to yet. You're really not done.
You need to talk to that girl. If you don't connect with her, she'll go her whole life without knowing real love. You need to reconnect with your father, or else he'll spend his whole life accepting himself as a failure. You need to talk to that boy in class, or one day he'll get so low that he'll start making decisions he'll regret, and never let anyone in.
So I'm sorry, but you can't leave just yet. Only you can do these things. There's nobody else. And it's not too late. You have just enough time.
So you need to wake up.
Slowly, you opened your eyes. You saw the grey ceiling and the treatment equipment above you. You felt the chill of the air in your hospital room. The warmth of the mattress, and the presence of the IV in your arm, and the feeling back in your fingers told you one thing;
That you had a few things you needed to do.
It's over now, so you should be able to wake up. I'm honestly not sure why you're still asleep. I know you almost left us, but that time has passed, and you're alive. Things couldn't be better for you out here, if you could only wake up to see it, then you'd know...
So please, Wake up.
"I'M UP, I'm up..." you exclaimed, wiping the pool of saliva that had accumulated on your hands off on your jacket, as your best friend stood over you and shook his head incredulously.
"That was a tremendous display. Good job. I honestly never knew it was possible to fall asleep during a fireworks show until today." he said, flashing you a sarcastic grin.
"Ugh... don't look at me like that. You're the one who made me talk to that girl last night. I barely got any sleep because of it." you lamented, stretching the sleep from your body as another colorful explosion went off in the stark black sky above.
His mouth fell open. "Do you mean to tell me you actually scored?!"
You exhaled through your nose with a smile. "Actually, no. But we did talk for such a long time on her doorstep after we got that uber ride home. But we're meeting again next week."
"unbelievable. And here I was thinking you were some kind of eunuch, with all your preaching about how you didn't want a relationship whenever we were out... Why did I not receive a single text about this?!"
"well, we DID have a lot to drink." you explained wryly.
He went back to shaking his head, with a different tone this time. "Man, I knew you could do it. From the very beginning. When we started hanging out I didn't even think I could talk to girls until you encouraged me. As a matter of fact I couldn't talk to anyone. I couldn't just let you fall back into the place I was. Glad you're finally getting around, man"
You stared at him. "Remind me, when did we start hanging out?"
"Wow you're conked. How many drinks did you have with this girl exactly?"
"Just humor me."
"Right. It was back in that networking class, when you helped me out with the routing assignment. No one else approached me in school for years, from high school to university. I was becoming a real recluse, but you broke me out of my shell."
You looked down at your feet and put a hand on the back of your head. "That's right, that professor's class. I always saw you sitting alone and never looking at anyone, so I tried to start a conversation."
"Yeah... also by the way you're 21 years old, you live in the US, and you attend university in the honors roll. Anything else you need updated on, oh time traveler from the past? Or are we ending this stupid bit?" he chuckled.
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, jealously is unbecoming though. Don't get salty just because your grades are worse than mine."
He opened his mouth to add respond, but another explosion drowned it out.
"What was that? You're gonna have to speak up. here." You said, taking a bite out of your hot dog.
No response.
"Hey, will you..." you turned to look at your friend. His lips were moving, but there was no sound.
Come to think of it, there was no sound at all, all of the sudden. Just a faint cracking in the background, as if fire was burning right behind your ears. His expressions got more and more intense, as if he was yelling at you. But you couldn't hear him. All you could do was look at him in confusion.
Fireworks whizzed overhead and exploded. People clapped and cheered. Your friend was touching your shoulder, his eyes expressing an intense earnest. No sound. Just the crackling of fire.
Wake up.
"I'm sorry, am I rambling?" the girl looked to the side and reached for her ear sheepishly.
"What?"
"You were looking off into the distance real hard there. Either you noticed that the pub has new molding on its walls or i'm boring the hell out of you."
"Oh, sorry. I... um... where were we?"
"You were just about to tell me about your dad." she squinted at you. "After I told you about mine."
"Oh right. Well, I haven't seen the guy in years. Since I was in high school, matter of fact. From what I remember we got along really well. But my parents would fight off and on... there would be periods of peace, but really you could tell he was stressed even then. I think they were just staying together for me. I was an only child after all."
You paused to take a drink, looking at the ice cubes floating up toward you. "But one day it just got too much for him, I guess. I hugged him one morning right before he left for work, and then never saw him again. Never saw my high school teacher again either, I noticed. It was reported that she'd resigned. Once I was older I started to realize the odd coincidence may have been more than that. She would talk to him every time he came to pick me up, after all. They sure got along well, ya know?"
She ran a hand through her hair and laughed. "Yeah. But most high school kids would pick up on that, even."
You chuckled. "Well most kids wouldn't want to believe their own fathers were so unfaithful. But also, I was a dumb kid, what can I say. Sheltered was more like it, I suppose. Didn't learn about the good 'ol 'birds and bees' til the young young age of fifteen."
Her smile slimmed. "I know how that is, obviously. Like I said, I wasn't even allowed to leave the house for the longest time."
You paused. "You weren't eh?"
She sat back in her chair. "Yeah I just told you. Weren't you listening?"
You held a hand up. "Ah the alcohol's getting to me. I remember now."
You retraced the conversation in your mind, about how she was abused by her single father. He had never let her outside. He home-schooled her sometimes, kept all her windows boarded and doors locked, in a damp, unkempt room furnished with crumbling pink wallpaper and ratty dolls atop dodgy shelves that were just a hair away from leaving their posts on the wall and crumbling down.
He beat her whenever she made mention of wanting to go outside. When he wasn't yelling at her, he was getting high off his ass downstairs, or getting it on with some discount hooker in the next room over. The more you heard about the man, the more you hated his guts.
"What I didn't tell you is how that affected me." she mentioned. "I mean obviously it took me forever to recover, and I still haven't really. But usually, I don't speak to men at all. I've been getting better about it, but this is the longest conversation with one I've had in a long time. I guess you got me to open up with your story."
"Yeah. I'm glad I finally decided to talk to you."
"I was wondering when you would. I've had my eye on you too if you can believe that."
she paused.
"Do... do you wanna meet up somewhere next week?"
You looked closely at her. She had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. That's what you had noticed every weekend you went out drinking with your friend, more than anything else. Every week you sat closer just to get a glimpse of them. They were lime green. The brightest you had ever seen. Or were they blue? Or... brown, maybe? No. Grey.
Suddenly you noticed a wave of dizziness was coming over you. Everything started becoming blurry. The color drained from the room.
"Hello? Don't tell me you're surprised," she said, looking down.
"No it's..." you started. But you couldn't even make her out anymore. The entire room was fuzzy and your head was pounding.
You fell backwards out of your chair from the dizziness, and the lights got brighter and brighter until you felt completely blind. You put your hands up to shield your eyes, and started shouting from the pain. A loud whirring noise rang through your head. Everything was bright and loud and painful.
Please wake up.
You squinted in the bright light as the garage door raised to unveil the merciless sun's rays which scratched at your eyes for the first time all weekend. Your hands outstretched to shield your face from the light, you recoiled. "Damn, I really need to get out more," you said through clenched teeth. "That project was killing me."
"I worry about you, you know. You work too hard sometimes."
You whirled around to see your dad standing there, his finger still on the garage door opener. He looked disheveled, like he was just on a bender. But there was a smile on his face you didn't recognize at all. Some warmth that you had long forgotten was contained in it. He looked content.
You smiled back. "You sure are looking well!" you exclaimed, turning back around to the sun.
He pushed his lower lip up and made his mouth into a straight line. "Well, I'm just glad you were so open to hearing from me after so many years I guess. I was so sure you'd never want anything to do with me again."
You turned around again. "You reached out to me?"
He looked confused. "Of course. Many times. Well, I suppose I didn't tell you this part- that letter wasn't the first. At first I thought you were just ignoring my calls, but I realized you had just switched numbers since high school. So I sent you that letter you're holding, old-fashioned style. I didn't really expect a response though. So I was surprised."
You looked down at your hand. It suddenly came back to you. "Oh yeah. It was so heartfelt, and unexpected... I was probably more surprised than you. I thought you had left us for good. I forgive you of course, as I've said."
"Yeah... sorry again."
"Please, I forgive you, just like the last 10 times you apologized this morning." you said, lowering your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you again. Honestly when you just dropped off the map and mom never told me where you were, I assumed you were dead. That's what all the kids at my school said too, at the time. That, and that you kidnapped our teacher or something. I didn't want to believe it, of course."
He looked embarrassed. "I made a mistake. It was all my fault and my lack of character that led me to that mistake, to be honest. No matter how much I wanted to blame your mother for all her harrassment, she was the one who wanted to make it work the most." He opened the car door and motioned me to the opposite side.
Thoughtfully, I wandered over and climbed into the passenger's seat. "Though I am wondering, why did it take you so long to contact us?"
He looked off into the distance, past the driveway as he started the car.
"It's complicated. A lot happened after that. I got involved in some things I shouldn't have. Even ended up in jail. My girlf-... er... your teacher had convinced me to call a lawyer for my last call instead of you guys. It was really just mistake after mistake. But I've come to terms with it, and after I got out I made my first attempt to contact you. I'll tell you all the details when we get to the restaurant."
You grimaced. "It's alright, you don't have to if it's too-"
"No," he stopped you. "You deserve to know the whole truth. After leaving you so quickly, I haven't been able to live with myself. The least you deserve is my honesty."
You smiled warmly at him. Your mind flooded with memories of your childhood, all those times he took you to the park every day after school for long walks and talks about whatever you were interested in. He truly loved you, despite all his faults. And now you could finally pick up where you left off.
You couldn't believe you had almost thrown his letters away.
As the car pulled out of the driveway, a tear fell from your eye and landed gently on your hand.
But you didn't feel it.
You stopped, and felt at your left hand with your right. Nothing. No feeling. No sense of touch. Your arms were completely numb. You tried to feel your face but your arms wouldn't lift themselves up anymore. They just stayed at your sides, limp. You could just barely hear your dad go on talking, but you couldn't see him. You couldn't move your eyes. The only thing you could do was watch the scenery go by from the passengers seat, and listen to the subtle ringing in your ears.
Come on. Wake up.
It's over now, so you should be able to wake up. I'm honestly not sure why you're still asleep. Really, things couldn't be better for you out here, if you could only wake up to see it, then you'd know...
Everyone's still there. Everyone.
That girl you saw every saturday evening in the bar, but never talked to because you were too nervous. You don't even know the color of her eyes.
That shy boy in class you wanted to befriend but would never open up, but didn't confront because you were too busy.
Your dad who left you and your mom so many years ago without a word, but for whom you never opened his letters due to spite.
The fireworks show you went to alone and left alone.
The bar you got wasted in alone.
The car you tried to drive home on your own anyways.
You stared up at the sky for so long after you crashed, surrounded by the smoldering remains of your car. The concussion and the sun working simultaneously to blind you. Your arms broken, nerves severed, completely numb to the pain of your burns. When they tried to revive you, you were already past the point of no return.
Right now you're just seeing what everyone sees, their lives as they should have been, and their lives as they were. That's what happens during judgement.
But you see, the thing is, you didn't do what you were supposed to yet. You're really not done.
You need to talk to that girl. If you don't connect with her, she'll go her whole life without knowing real love. You need to reconnect with your father, or else he'll spend his whole life accepting himself as a failure. You need to talk to that boy in class, or one day he'll get so low that he'll start making decisions he'll regret, and never let anyone in.
So I'm sorry, but you can't leave just yet. Only you can do these things. There's nobody else. And it's not too late. You have just enough time.
So you need to wake up.
Slowly, you opened your eyes. You saw the grey ceiling and the treatment equipment above you. You felt the chill of the air in your hospital room. The warmth of the mattress, and the presence of the IV in your arm, and the feeling back in your fingers told you one thing;
That you had a few things you needed to do.
Akishima
Well-Known Member
Wow, that was quite a read! I really enjoyed that. Makes you really think about how your decisions could affect your life in major ways. I'd say you could submit that to the school paper; it's pretty good as is- just check it over for spelling and grammar and you'd be good to go.
Rascal
Gold Supporter
Akishima
Well-Known Member
Well, I assume your university has a school paper. I never submitted anything when I went there, but I did at community college. I just thought it was pretty cool is all- Thanks for sharing!
Rascal
Gold Supporter
Ahh I see. Dunno if my school has anything for submitting like that.
No problem!
RogueLynx
Well-Known Member
this is brilliant and really involving, makes one think too... thanks for sharing it mate :)
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Rascal
Gold Supporter
Thank you so much
UniversalParanoia1
Well-Known Member
DAMN, that was really good! I knew there was something weird happening but I couldn't pinpoint what until the ending. I really liked how detailed it was, it was a really thoughtful piece!
UniversalParanoia1
Well-Known Member
This is a short little something something I wrote for creative writing class. It’s not very good but I hope I can get some feedback on it!
It’s been over a good year or so since I’ve taken a good look at the site. I’m not sure why I felt the urge to climb that huge ass hill and look over at that ruined, now ashy school. It looked quite pitiful, not that it didn’t look pitiful when it wasn’t burned down, but it just looked more pitiful than it was originally. Double pitiful it seemed, all slumped over and stuff. Looked more like a piece of rubble now, not that it didn’t look like one before. However, this pitiful scene was caused by me. This was the site of my first arson. It’s quite an ugly trophy for all my hard work, but it’s MY ugly trophy, whether I wanted it or not.
I originally burnt this place down out of hatred for it, hoping that it would disappear completely. However, I wanted to check it out again for myself, a trip down a very dirty and ugly memory lane if you will.
I trotted my way up to the entrance nonchalantly, to my surprise the door to the school was still there, dirty and covered with soot, but it was still there, well mostly there, at least. There was a huge hole in the door that had been burnt into it. I put my hands on the door handle and opened it, pretending that the hole didn’t exist, playing along for the door’s sake. When I opened it, the sunlight behind me poured into the dark entrance like golden acid, lighting up everything it touched. Dust particles flew around the room like flies in the light of the glowing acid.
I coughed and used my hand to wave the dust away from my face, promptly putting up my hood to keep the dust and soot out of my eyes. I fished my flashlight out of my pocket before turning it on and closing the door behind me as I made my way inside. The acid dashed back outside.
I looked around with squinted eyes at the sorry state of the place. More glowing acid poured in from holes in the rubbled roof, I took a glance at all the overturned lunch tables in the cafeteria and filthy hallways that led away from it. Making my way down the hallway on the far left, I saw a long stretch of sad abandoned rooms, many with the doors burned down or in an awful state. This was a hallway I would walk down everyday here, hallways where I would go to one wretched class after another, hearing my teachers blabber the same shit day in and day out, telling us things that we would never remember later. Forcefully shoving useless knowledge in our brain like robot slaves, living under the rules of society and programmed to all act the same way. It was pretty depressing if you wanna know the truth.
After standing around in the hallway for as long as I wanted, I decided to check out the old principal's office real quick. A growing feeling of dread grew in my stomach as I realized that I still felt the same way about the building even if it was burned down. It made my crime seem almost pointless now.
Why would I even try if it wasn’t going to change anything?
It’s been over a good year or so since I’ve taken a good look at the site. I’m not sure why I felt the urge to climb that huge ass hill and look over at that ruined, now ashy school. It looked quite pitiful, not that it didn’t look pitiful when it wasn’t burned down, but it just looked more pitiful than it was originally. Double pitiful it seemed, all slumped over and stuff. Looked more like a piece of rubble now, not that it didn’t look like one before. However, this pitiful scene was caused by me. This was the site of my first arson. It’s quite an ugly trophy for all my hard work, but it’s MY ugly trophy, whether I wanted it or not.
I originally burnt this place down out of hatred for it, hoping that it would disappear completely. However, I wanted to check it out again for myself, a trip down a very dirty and ugly memory lane if you will.
I trotted my way up to the entrance nonchalantly, to my surprise the door to the school was still there, dirty and covered with soot, but it was still there, well mostly there, at least. There was a huge hole in the door that had been burnt into it. I put my hands on the door handle and opened it, pretending that the hole didn’t exist, playing along for the door’s sake. When I opened it, the sunlight behind me poured into the dark entrance like golden acid, lighting up everything it touched. Dust particles flew around the room like flies in the light of the glowing acid.
I coughed and used my hand to wave the dust away from my face, promptly putting up my hood to keep the dust and soot out of my eyes. I fished my flashlight out of my pocket before turning it on and closing the door behind me as I made my way inside. The acid dashed back outside.
I looked around with squinted eyes at the sorry state of the place. More glowing acid poured in from holes in the rubbled roof, I took a glance at all the overturned lunch tables in the cafeteria and filthy hallways that led away from it. Making my way down the hallway on the far left, I saw a long stretch of sad abandoned rooms, many with the doors burned down or in an awful state. This was a hallway I would walk down everyday here, hallways where I would go to one wretched class after another, hearing my teachers blabber the same shit day in and day out, telling us things that we would never remember later. Forcefully shoving useless knowledge in our brain like robot slaves, living under the rules of society and programmed to all act the same way. It was pretty depressing if you wanna know the truth.
After standing around in the hallway for as long as I wanted, I decided to check out the old principal's office real quick. A growing feeling of dread grew in my stomach as I realized that I still felt the same way about the building even if it was burned down. It made my crime seem almost pointless now.
Why would I even try if it wasn’t going to change anything?
Rascal
Gold Supporter
Nice. I like the hook, from the perspective of an arsonist.
UniversalParanoia1
Well-Known Member
In Spanish class today we are celebrating the day of the dead, and we were given activities to do. So I wrote a poem about a composer named Charles (I forget his last name). It wasn't super accurate but it was a funny story I found about him so I wrote about that. My poem went something like:
"Charles was a man with an unscratchable itch
But one day in the library, he found himself in quite a pinch.
He reached up to grab a book on a higher shelf
But the books came down and he killed himself."
"Charles was a man with an unscratchable itch
But one day in the library, he found himself in quite a pinch.
He reached up to grab a book on a higher shelf
But the books came down and he killed himself."
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G
Guest
My my my, I think I've found a kindred spirit! Young miss, you're positively channeling Edward Gorey here. Have you ever heard of him? One of my professors is cited in a biography about him, and he was a fascinating individual and I adore his work. Here's a few of his works real quick.
UniversalParanoia1
Well-Known Member
I like this guy’s styleMy my my, I think I've found a kindred spirit! Young miss, you're positively channeling Edward Gorey here. Have you ever heard of him? One of my professors is cited in a biography about him, and he was a fascinating individual and I adore his work. Here's a few of his works real quick.
OkamiHime95
Well-Known Member
Hello, everyone. :) I thought that I'd partake in the thread since I'm a writer too, but first off, I want to say that I'm NO professional by any means, so try & go easy on me peeps lol. 0_0 I've written poetry in the past and have been working on a few novels off & on for a few years, but because I lost inspiration to write, and because other people who I showed my writing to either thought they were stupid or didn't get it, or they thought they were boring, I stopped writing all together & wanted to burn my work or shred them all, but for some reason I haven't yet...
I'm hoping I get a much better reception here, and that I find inspiration again.
I don't have my work online anywhere, (due to above reasons & because my novels are unfinished) just so everyone knows.
I'll share one of my works here when I can, if anyone is interested, but for now I leave ya'll with this "bio", and I also want to thank @GTOwlnizuka for the "invite." :3
I'm hoping I get a much better reception here, and that I find inspiration again.
I don't have my work online anywhere, (due to above reasons & because my novels are unfinished) just so everyone knows.
I'll share one of my works here when I can, if anyone is interested, but for now I leave ya'll with this "bio", and I also want to thank @GTOwlnizuka for the "invite." :3
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QueenSkull
Well-Known Member
These are three short poem like stories I wrote some time ago. I'll separate them with a line c:
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
I see them, way ahead.
Chin up, eyes down
Look, think, down.
Measure distance.
Control pace, move.
Fifteen meters, closing in.
Their eyes on me.
My eyes on them.
Never direct.
Ten meters
Details are made.
Heart beating, Smile?
Five meters
Head up, eyes down.
Wind breathes, Silence.
Zero meters
Eyes shut, Breathe again.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The unnoticed wish of a friendship
I walked passed you, trying not to look.
Speaking a little louder and laughing more.
A little dramatic, but not overboard.
Smiling always, just in case.
That is what most usually adore.
I know that you know,
and you know that I know.
If our eyes ever meet,
we face the battle so bitter-sweet.
But do you think the same as me?
That both of us don't have to flee.
I tried hard to not look,
but I always wanted to see.
I wanted to catch you in the act,
if you ever did,
if you ever saw.
A few times you looked, but not anymore.
I now notice that I am staring from the outside,
wide open for anyone to see.
I am right here.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
When I was younger, I looked up to my cousin. When I grew older, I looked up to my friends. I looked up to the people I felt I never could reach. I grew older once again and I still look up. Some are close to me, others are far away. I joined a server and I started looking up to people. The people that seemed to be well respected, appreciated and loved. I looked up to the people I felt I never could become. Even here, I look up to some. Some people just have it. The respect, the sense of humor, the feeling and mood. They just have it.
When I was younger, I was told that my sister looked up to me. I didn't believe it. There was no reason to. When I grew older, she started looking elsewhere. We both looked up to our cousin, and our cousin looked elsewhere. I grew up once again and the little sister of a friend of mine said she wanted to be just like me. I didn't believe it. I didn't see why. I joined a server and I was emerged with the people quickly. I was told multiple times that they looked up to me, that they wanted to be like me. I didn't believe it. I didn't understand.
When I was younger, when I grew up, when I grew up once again, when I joined a server, I thought to myself. Am I this person to someone else? The people I look up to, the people I could never reach... Am I?
I looked up to the people I felt I couldn't reach so much I forgot to look at those around. Maybe while I am looking up to the people beyond my reach, someone is looking up at me.
A final wish I always had was that it would all connect to a circle and not a straight line. For one should not be at the top while the other one at the bottom, but be a good shaped circle that connects us all together.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
I see them, way ahead.
Chin up, eyes down
Look, think, down.
Measure distance.
Control pace, move.
Fifteen meters, closing in.
Their eyes on me.
My eyes on them.
Never direct.
Ten meters
Details are made.
Heart beating, Smile?
Five meters
Head up, eyes down.
Wind breathes, Silence.
Zero meters
Eyes shut, Breathe again.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The unnoticed wish of a friendship
I walked passed you, trying not to look.
Speaking a little louder and laughing more.
A little dramatic, but not overboard.
Smiling always, just in case.
That is what most usually adore.
I know that you know,
and you know that I know.
If our eyes ever meet,
we face the battle so bitter-sweet.
But do you think the same as me?
That both of us don't have to flee.
I tried hard to not look,
but I always wanted to see.
I wanted to catch you in the act,
if you ever did,
if you ever saw.
A few times you looked, but not anymore.
I now notice that I am staring from the outside,
wide open for anyone to see.
I am right here.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
When I was younger, I looked up to my cousin. When I grew older, I looked up to my friends. I looked up to the people I felt I never could reach. I grew older once again and I still look up. Some are close to me, others are far away. I joined a server and I started looking up to people. The people that seemed to be well respected, appreciated and loved. I looked up to the people I felt I never could become. Even here, I look up to some. Some people just have it. The respect, the sense of humor, the feeling and mood. They just have it.
When I was younger, I was told that my sister looked up to me. I didn't believe it. There was no reason to. When I grew older, she started looking elsewhere. We both looked up to our cousin, and our cousin looked elsewhere. I grew up once again and the little sister of a friend of mine said she wanted to be just like me. I didn't believe it. I didn't see why. I joined a server and I was emerged with the people quickly. I was told multiple times that they looked up to me, that they wanted to be like me. I didn't believe it. I didn't understand.
When I was younger, when I grew up, when I grew up once again, when I joined a server, I thought to myself. Am I this person to someone else? The people I look up to, the people I could never reach... Am I?
I looked up to the people I felt I couldn't reach so much I forgot to look at those around. Maybe while I am looking up to the people beyond my reach, someone is looking up at me.
A final wish I always had was that it would all connect to a circle and not a straight line. For one should not be at the top while the other one at the bottom, but be a good shaped circle that connects us all together.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Akishima
Well-Known Member
That last one especially gave me shivers. This is like three ways of looking at looking- it's amazing how many different meanings that word has, and how much it can convey. I really feel that connection, yet lack of connection, in all three of these- that almost, yet not. Humans are social creatures, so this sort of thing- this longing for connection, is something that is bred in our bones, and yet somehow still so difficult to achieve. This is good stuff.