What haven’t we found
lurking in the bright meadows
because we’re more apt to scour
the long, draining night?
The slums of faded parchments
have less to fear now,
their faces never slated to grow
the lines that would wrinkle their brow
and make them memorable.
When flowers aren’t cared for
they Continue reading
Total is National Poetry Day. I felt compelled to avoid free verse and try to polish this one up a bit more. So of course I wrote a Shakespearean sonnet for my fiance.
“The Ship Sonnet”
Listen, hear the joy of my loving mind;
Wherein dusty thoughts are swept out the ears
And true, red hearts beat together and bind
Like a stable ship to sail through life’s years.
Billowed sails are crafted from memories
And gusts, strong and tempted by one deep gaze, Continue reading
Just because it’s sometimes used incorrectly, doesn’t mean its advancement is a bad thing. A terza rima poem defending technology.
In the future we’ll all be connected
And our days and our nights will wash over
Like lights that somehow feel disconnected;
Then every intellectual rover
Will be forced to find a den without plugs–
Searching concrete for a four-leaf clover.
Momentous advancement will feel like slugs
People often hinge their writing duties on waiting for inspiration to click. I know I do. Really, it’s just another form of procrastination. Sometimes (most times) inspiration doesn’t hit until you have the first word down, that’s the real hurdle.
While it’s actually the second word in this poem, the first word that came to my mind was “crimson”. Weather, war, romance, regret — funny how they can all be connected so easily to that word.
Also, my fantasy mind got the better of me and I wrote “gnoll” instead of knoll. A shaved gnoll isn’t a bad image, though.
Bullets and a Rose
What crimson clouds careen across the shorned [knoll]
and spill their shades to transform the hue–
What dastardly mind could look on such a sight
and not see at least a foreign shape or two. Continue reading
The poem-a-day challenge for 2015 continues. This latest was inspired by Susanna Clarke’s brilliant novel (and recent BBC TV series adaptation) Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.
Doodle for maximum effect.
“There Will Be Magic Once More In England”
Feathers of the blackest black,
like ink, like soot, like dark.
With a shadowed remark
the bird says the King is back.
The portents have aligned here-
English magic returned-
bringing out the learned
who know not of what draws near.
Meanwhile waits Mr. Norrell
for his apprentice Strange.
No magic here can change
the master and the quarrel.
I’ve been on quite a website sabbatical. It began when I started my first NaNoWriMo in November 2013 and when my second NaNoWriMo rolled around in 2014 I wondered why I hadn’t sooner returned to updating this thing in the slightest, other than a post about Free Comic Book Day. I had probably been satisfied in convincing myself the writing I had been doing was enough to clear my conscious of any thought of creative stagnation. But it was no real excuse, so here I am, back to take another swing at it. Hopefully, with any luck, I will start to keep this site up date, posting new snippets of work as I continue creating.
To Begin with a Recap: I took part in a couple NaNoWriMos, the second one of which finished as a novella while the first turned into a project much longer than 50,000 words and is currently sitting at 116,602 and will still likely grow a bit in the editing process.
The second project, the novella, was my first try at writing an epistolary work. I’ve read very few of these but the process has always intrigued me as difficult, challenging and exciting. I wrote a historical fiction about a Continue reading
In the den of dark
the feast begins a-howling,
as fang-daggers drip.
smoky shadow wax puddles
a grim grin of death.