Yay, or Nay… (+Poem, +short story)

June 24, 2008 at 1:59 pm (literature, novel, Poems, stories) (, , , , , )

It seems procrastination is my calling. I wonder why when i have a ton of stuff to do piled up, I leave them as they are and start writing…

Oh well, couldn’t do something different though.

As i was sorting some things from my childhood, a small notebook fell. A tiny bluish (at sometime) notebook. I had it bought when i was seven, eight years old, can’t really remember. But I had it so that I could note down lyrics that I liked. My parents loved the idea since they thought that it would help me with my spelling (which by the way still sucks). Soon I began to alter the words here or there. Putting them in different order, giving them life… It didn’t took much for this tiny assembly of magical papers to become my very first place that I stored my poems. Childish, now that i see them, ignorant of life… yet, somehow, I couldn’t contain my tears when I read, and re-read them…

Obviously, I dedicate the poem: Reminiscence to it… and since it got me writing again, I finished my story Incineration of sanity. It felt nice to finish a story in just two days… maybe I should stick to short ones.

If you read it and wonder about the ‘somewhat’ abrupt ending, it was intentional. Life can change in the blink of an eye, in the second that it takes for one to make the decision to alter it… I don’t know how well it shows that it was intentional, but I hope…

Reminiscence

A tear stains, your worn teal color.
Blue ink is messing your scrambled lines.
Notebook of old, where were you hiding?
Your pages so thin, they’ve sliced my soul.

Were you just hiding in dusty corner?
Or in my heart you always lay?
Memories dance and sobs explode,
as I am holding you in my hand.

Meaningless rhymes and silly lyrics
How my emotions you mess?
Childish scribbles in playful tunes
How tears you bring in clouded mind?

Do you remember our first caress?
Your lover’s dance with pen and pencil?
My smile when loneliness you did dispel.
The day I bought you, I bought a friend…

A dozen years, maybe some more,
have passed since then that we had bond.
Yet fragrance fresh you still emit
of words you spat, of life you’ve birthed..

Notebook of old, now that I’ve found you,
my pillow join, there where I lay,
I’ll trust you again, my dreams to guard;
the same old dreams that you’ve inspired…

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Baby steps (+poem, +short story)

June 23, 2008 at 10:12 pm (literature, novel, Poems, stories) (, , , , , )

So, I kinda-sorta-somewhat found a little free time to continue my writing. Nothing much, just a few steps to make me moving again. As in my classic stupid tradition, I didn’t continued any of my previous work that I so much wish to finish some day… but i started on new projects.

And here I go again, in a new place ( http://Writing.Com/authors/shphoenixgr), making a fresh start. The problem is (why there should always be one by the way?…) that at this particular moment, i have a chance to do something really meaningful with my life… and here I am wasting my time writing things irrelevant to my work… but this doesn’t bother me now. I figure that I like my writing better than my job anyways…

So I wrote a poem for my new beginning, a poem about life, since it IS a good subject for my baby steps…

I also started writing a small story for a contest there, the poem (Full circle) as well as the story (Incineration of sanity) can be found (as always) in the sidebar. And to continue my new test, I shall put the poem here too.

Hope you’ll enjoy them both.

Full circle

You’re slapped to life by tender hand,
to learn the meaning of pain and love.
Opposite sides, or are they really?
When things you learn, shouldn’t you dance?

For times will come where fate is cruel.
Your sorrows grasp, your bitter paths.
Embrace your tears, forget your past,
for only struggle teach how to laugh.

But when life shines, they rays of joy,
always remember to smile with your eyes.
For truly as sun, in mirrored glass,
your light reflects and spreads your laugh.

And morning come, and evening leave,
learn something new, teach something different.
The things you treasure must go to others,
and you’re expected to guard their own.

But always take notice, that this’ a journey,
a train of memories and things you’ve done.
And it’s better to be a cabin active,
than just a passenger that watch life pass.

And when they say ‘Your light is dimming’,
over your shoulder just throw a glimpse.
You’ll see it bright, to those you gave it,
to those you taught and those you smiled.

Your head turn straight and silently walk,
you’re finally here, to your journey’s last stop.
The times you’ve fallen are long now past,
Be proud you willed yourself to stand up.

But if you think you need more time,
you have forgotten one major thing.
You need to cry to learn how to laugh,
how can you live if you cannot die?

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So…

June 21, 2008 at 6:56 pm (literature, Poems) (, , , , , )

How many times can a man be revived?

I’m hoping at least two…

No, I’m not back. But I’m settled, and I hope that from the next month I will manage to salvage some time to post things here. For now, I have not much readied. Only ideas and half-written chapters, and some poems I guess. It will take a lot of work to gather all those things and sort them out. But I’m hoping that I’ll manage. For now, you’ll have to get satisfied with a single poem:

A new perspective

Scattered crystals,
my prisms of dreams.
Engulfed starlight
and captured sun,
in their million fragments.

My torn out wings,
a paper-plane; I toss,
and in its folded hope
my secrets float,
in the currents of oblivion.

Where is a baby’s laughter?
The shadowed path,
without youthful smile,
how to illuminate?
My inner child when did I kill?

An adult’s vile grin,
his thousand white teeth,
razor sharp lies,
its mark has left on my soul.
The poison I feel creeping in.

In this bloodstained altar,
as I throw away my Pretense,
I sacrifice my Logic;
and as my ego I stab,
I hear Experience’s death throes.

Macabre ritual
to ancient gods
of dreams I chant.
I give you my Knowledge,
return me my fantasies.

My eyes are full again;
the life’s water flowing.
Tears of joy
hide the false paths.
At last… I am mad.

Scattered crystals,
my prisms of dreams,
jewels that engulf starlight,
tears that capture sun
in my mind’s million fragments.

I’m blind no more.

p.s.

I think that I like better to post my poems directly to the blog entries first, and then to the sidebar. I think that it will make it easier on you too to read them. We’ll see how this will go.

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