#61
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I have tried so many times to write a novel, but they always end up being short stories. I just don't have that kind of discipline, I would rather write 30 poems than a novel. Speaking of which, here's a few that I wrote recently.
Grey Have we became so endeavored into a void of kindred love That we become loosely involved with false hate Such a bitter taste lingers on your lips And I feel it coursing through my veins I want to become purged of my freedoms Engrossed in many chains Feeling something other than anything Wanting something other than everything How strange for my colors to change at this point For after many years of black & white I just noticed something grey Practically Speaking Practically speaking, And in all seriousness, Who do you think you are? As if I would be nothing without you As if I think about you all the time As if I miss you the second we depart As if the world is on fire when you are gone As if you possess me entirely As if… Its as if any of this wasn’t true Because being alone used to be just fine But I’m simply lost without you Assertion I think that now would be the time For me to assert the truths That I have found within my life If one could love another so This poem would be worthless Because I hate having to relive these things So timeless, so perfect Until the imperfection became limited So how am I supposed to know Who to want, and who to desire While all the world hangs loosely Onto the choice made indifferently between the two When we had that fateful conversation I thought to myself "Isn't eternity supposed to last longer than days?" But if it isn't quite clear Maybe I should make it very understood You were the only truth worth asserting. |
#62
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that's very good! .....
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So if the ghosts are gone then doesn't that mean I'm kinda screwed?? |
#63
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I completed NaNoWriMo this year, which I was pretty proud of if only because my biggest challenge in writing is getting myself to do it. It's not a finished novel or the best thing ever, but it's a 50,000 word manuscript, which is not something I really thought I'd ever get done, let alone in a month. Ironically, part of the purpose of NaNo is to go into it with just the goal of completing the manuscript and too much prior planning, while allowed, isn't considered a necessity or even encouraged (and any previous writing is not allowed to be incorporated). While a few of my character ideas found their way into my manuscript, I think the blank slate idea helped more than hindered reaching the goal.
I definitely prefer prose over poetry. I tend to write fiction in blurbs, when I'm bored mostly, so I have a bunch of characters created and they kind of come out every now and then and get dealt with and then put away. I always am tempted to share little bits of it here and there but then I wonder if they would even make sense outside of my head without other bits to give it context? Who knows. If I ever stop being so lazy, I could probably make something nice out of all of it, but that day has yet to come. Last edited by bucklind17; 03-27-2010 at 07:35 PM.. |
#64
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Writing is definitely a discipline. It's freakin' hard work.
Well, good writing is, anyway. Anyone that tries to tell you otherwise is either lying or stupid or just not very good at it. Even those that have "made it" will tell you, in my experience, that writing is pretty much a cruel mistress. Whether you write for yourself or for an audience, whether you want to get paid to do it or you want it to just be a hobby, you have to work at it every day. This is something I struggle with constantly - I spend so much of my day writing things for other people, using their topics and ideas, to their specs, that by the end of the day, I don't have much in the way of energy left over for my own topics and ideas. I've never really wanted to do anything other than write, and when I was younger, I thought writing for a living would be something resembling the easy life. HAH. The idiocy of youth. I had no idea how much I'd have to bust my ass to get exactly nowhere that's discernable to anyone but myself. I know that what I am doing now is putting the first floor on the foundation of my writing career (dug the cellar with my old job, laid the foundation when I took the leap to freelance about 2 years ago), so I am okay with that, but it's still damn hard a lot of the time and I often wonder if I shouldn't just quit and go flip burgers. But I don't. I just keep on keepin' on, because I know that's just what you have to do.
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Malanderer, Badlander and Thief, Est. 1982 All the same, baby. All the same. "You never know what I'll do. I've resequenced my show. I'm a master at sequencing. I'm the one who sequenced for Fleetwood Mac. I sequenced 'Rumours.' Everyone loves my sequences. They're fun.'' |
#65
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As a side, I posted Jim Morrison's "The WASP" a while back, which often garners very mixed reactions (unsurprisingly). Would you ever consider doing a poem as erratic as that? (Oh, and I'm glad to have found a Poe fan on this thread! I'll get right onto those stories you suggested - and "The Raven", for that matter!)
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The two essentials for a healthy mind: 1. Philosophy & Science 2. Fleetwood Mac NB. Not necessarily in that order... |
#66
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thank you so much
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#67
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You guys have encouraged me to write again!
I have decided to write a novel again.
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Much Love |
#68
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Well, you be sure to keep us updated on all the progress you make! Good luck with it all! (Not that you need it, you talented writer you! )
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The two essentials for a healthy mind: 1. Philosophy & Science 2. Fleetwood Mac NB. Not necessarily in that order... |
#69
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Anyway - My story is set in a small american town in the late 60's. The story is about the lives of five to-be high-school graduates and there choices in life. It's really strange, becuase I never lived in the 60's, infact I'm only 14!
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Much Love |
#70
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Well, the sixties isn't hard to imagine - just think of it as the time when everybody was like Jim Morrison!
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The two essentials for a healthy mind: 1. Philosophy & Science 2. Fleetwood Mac NB. Not necessarily in that order... |
#71
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^^
I'll get writing!
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Much Love |
#72
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I'm actually going to start doing some really experimental stuff within my writing. I'm starting to bore myself so I need to get creative! |
#73
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TUSK!
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Much Love |
#74
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Ok, I did a little bit of editing to my Stevie Poem.
For you, my singer You and I sat beside the storms of grey, We sat and talked, but you were only there in partial. I’d wait for you in the hall – but you never came. “I miss you!” I cried, as I felt the pain. As we watched the rain patter, I remembered. “Do you hear me?” I asked. But there was no answer, only sound. “Wouldn’t you love to love her” she said. And, as we watched the lightning spark – you sang. “But you sing for me everyday” I whispered. Again, there was no answer. “Why!” I shouted as we heard the thunder roar. Still, she sang and still she danced in her world of chiffon. “For you!” I cried “For you!” I cried “For you!” I cried When the storm had finished, we had left for now. While she disappeared, I went home. As I lay down – I felt the tears upon my cheek. And yet – I heard her again, singing to me. I knew it would never be. You have given me something, that I must give back. “For you!” I cried “For you!” I cried “For you!” I cried I cried for you- (Dedicated to Stevie Nicks, my singer)
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Much Love |
#75
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I didn't wanna let this thread die... I love reading everything you guys write, Stevie fans are so talented
Anyway, I wrote this about a boy I fell in love with, but it's also largely about my cocaine addiction Paint My heart races I pace across this room My heart is a room... My body is a house with empty spaces Long ago, I gave my heart to you And never really got it back, only traces... I wish I could paint what I'm feeling But the canvas would be all black I wish I could paint myself on you So I could remember what I've been through And remind myself to not go back Not to give myself again to you... The night lies still But I can't sleep again Not even in my dreams, my friend You're only a ghost, lonely... unreal And I wish this emptiness would heal And I wish this emptiness would end I wish I could paint what I'm feeling But the canvas would be all black I wish I could paint myself on you So I could remember what I've been through And remind myself not to go back Not to give myself up for you... I'm only a ghost Of the person I used to be I remember the day, I prayed... That I could return to those days And, now, here I am in those same shoes Walking in the shadows of truth I wish I could paint what I'm feeling But the canvas would be all black I wish I could paint myself on you So I could remember what I've been through And remind myself to not go back Not to give myself to you... |
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