26 February 2010 @ 12:32 am
If you see this, post a poem in your own LJ
(From all my std buddies)

An Ode to Party City

Five employees have I a night
Under the Abston's watchful eye.
Care to the store do we deliver,
Kind and helpful to our patrons,
Yielding to their every whim;
Of course they are always right.
Uncomfortable though it may be.

(And a real poem)

"Four Preludes on Playthings of the Wind"
Carl Sandburg

The past is a bucket of ashes.


The woman named Tomorrow
sits with a hairpin in her teeth
and takes her time
and does her hair the way she wants it
and fastens at last the last braid and coil
and puts the hairpin where it belongs
and turns and drawls: Well, what of it?
My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone.
What of it? Let the dead be dead.


The doors were cedar
and the panels strips of gold
and the girls were golden girls
and the panels read and the girls chanted:
We are the greatest city,
the greatest nation:
nothing like us ever was.

The doors are twisted on broken hinges.
Sheets of rain swish through on the wind
where the golden girls ran and the panels read:
We are the greatest city,
the greatest nation,
nothing like us ever was.


It has happened before.
Strong men put up a city and got
a nation together,
And paid singers to sing and women
to warble: We are the greatest city,
the greatest nation,
nothing like us ever was.

And while the singers sang
and the strong men listened
and paid the singers well
and felt good about it all,
there were rats and lizards who listened
… and the only listeners left now
… are … the rats … and the lizards.

And there are black crows
crying, "Caw, caw,"
bringing mud and sticks
building a nest
over the words carved
on the doors where the panels were cedar
and the strips on the panels were gold
and the golden girls came singing:
We are the greatest city,
the greatest nation:
nothing like us ever was.

The only singers now are crows crying, "Caw, caw,"
And the sheets of rain whine in the wind and doorways.
And the only listeners now are … the rats … and the lizards.


The feet of the rats
scribble on the door sills;
the hieroglyphs of the rat footprints
chatter the pedigrees of the rats
and babble of the blood
and gabble of the breed
of the grandfathers and the great-grandfathers
of the rats.

And the wind shifts
and the dust on a door sill shifts
and even the writing of the rat footprints
tells us nothing, nothing at all
about the greatest city, the greatest nation
where the strong men listened
and the women warbled: Nothing like us ever was.
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Current Mood: inspired
01 February 2009 @ 11:27 pm

My COMIC Self by ~en-miettes on deviantART

A Weakness for Musicians
There's an oboe on the table and an elbow in my ribs
I'm lying in my bed and a stranger has me pinned
I try to shift so slightly but he holds me tight
I push a little harder in hopes that it might

Free me from his mighty grasp
But it doesn't, so--alas!
I suppose this my fault could only be
If only I didn't have for musicians such a thing!
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02 August 2008 @ 11:46 pm
Recent stuff from deviantART:

(...haha lol. do you see what I did there? omg, I crack me up....)

Two Eyes by ~en-miettes on deviantART

More under the cat...lol no, cut XD )

AND POETRY!!!!!!!!! (The first one has some crass language. Just an fyi, in case that bothers you.) )
Current Mood: blah
Current Location: Home
26 July 2008 @ 01:39 am
There is something that has always been and will always be very intimidating about the first page of anything you may ever write. Be it an essay, research paper, novel, or emo-angst rant in your blog--it's frightening to look at a blank page (or screen, for those of you who are especially tech-savvy) and think--no, know--that you are the one who has to fill it. Geez...talk about being nervous-making! Perhaps the only thing worse than that thought is the one that you've got to find someway to start it off with a bif! bam! kapow! BANG! It has to be something totally stunning and completely BRILLIANT with sparkles and glitter and just the right amount of pizazz! Not only do you have to properly convey the tone and theme of your writing (which will, no doubt, be absolutely brilliant as soon as you can actually start it), you've got to do it in a way that captures your audience and keeps them captivated to the very end. It's not exactly easy. Why else would there be so many authors that aren't published? It's not that they aren't good--they just can't get that one hook down at the very start.

Says Scott Westerfeld,

There is a mini-cult of first lines among us writers. The first line is sort of like the lobby of the book: the first thing you see, coloring all subsequent impressions. It’s one place where you’re truly allowed to show off.

He, of course, is famous for such great first-liners as:

"Getting dressed was always the hardest part of the afternoon." (Pretties)

"We are all around you." (So Yesterday)

"I think New York was leaking." (The Last Days)

"The five small craft passed from shadow, emerging with the suddenness of coins thrown into sunlight." (The Risen Empire)

And, my personal favorite:

"The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit." (Uglies)

Let's face it--the first line of any sort of piece of writing, be it prose or poetry, is the very essence of the words that follow it. So, without further ado and for your consideration, some first lines (can you guess who wrote what?):

  • "The reason Weetzie Bat hated high school was because no one understood."
  • "All children, except one, grow up."
  • "We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our reat gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun."
  • "I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again."
  • "At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows and no birds ever sing excepting old crows...is the Street of the Lifted Lorax."
  • "I am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass."
  • "I taped the commercial back in April, before anything had happened, and promptly forgot about it."
  • "The Adventures of Captain Proton!"
  • "Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys an wherefores thereof." (what a doozy!)
  • "'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug."
  • "I remember where I was and what I was doing when Bonnie Prince Charlie was killed."
  • "Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes."
  • " Unhappy with a new treaty, Federation Colonists along the Cardassian border have banded together."
  • "Marley was dead, to begin with."
  • "One dollar and eighty-seven cents."
  • "It's a jazz affair, drum crashes and cornet razzes."
  • "Once upon a time there was a pair of pants."
  • "It was a dark and stormy night."

  • While we're here, what are some of your favorite first lines?
Current Location: home...almost in bed
Current Music: "She Floats" - Vanessa Carlton
Current Mood: inspired!
15 July 2008 @ 12:47 am
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How to Live: Advice from Experts on how to be Free

My great-great-grandmother's portrait hung in the university up until the Revolution. By then, the truth of their romance had been reduced to a simple fairy tale. And, while Cinderella and her prince did live happily ever after, the point, gentlemen, is that they lived.

- Ever After

Advice to Beginners by Ellen Kort

Begin. Keep on beginning. Nibble on everything.
Take a hike. Teach yourself to whistle. Lie.
The older you get the more they’ll want your stories.
Make them up. Talk to stones. Short-out electric
fences. Swim with the sea turtle into the moon. Learn
how to die. Eat moonshine pie. Drink wild geranium
tea. Run naked in the rain. Everything that happens
will happen and none of us will be safe from it.
Pull up anchors. Sit close to the god of night.
Lie still in a stream and breathe water. Climb to the top
of the highest tree until you come to the branch
where the blue heron sleeps. Eat poems for breakfast.
Wear them on your forehead. Lick the mountain’s
bare shoulder. Measure the color of days
around your mother’s death. Put your hands
over your face and listen to what they tell you.


iCiNG Manifesto )


Alanis Morissette, Damone, Celine Dion )


Gala Darling )


Being Okay wit hwho you Are )


thinkAreté )


We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths by Philip James Bailey

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest:
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins.
Life's but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things—God.
The dead have all the glory of the world


Francesca Lia Block )


A Note by The Universe

If you just whistle every now and then; skip every thousandth step or so; skim the odd stone across the odd pond; go dancing on the occasional blue moon, if only alone in the dark; dress up sometimes, even with nowhere to go... for simply stirring up some little bit of hope, no matter how silly or disconnected your actions seem to be with the rest of the world, magic flashes in the unseen, friends are summoned, connections are timed, stars are aligned, opportunities are crystallized and serendipities are calculated, creating possibilities for new realities that cannot now even be imagined from where you presently stand.

Shazaam -
The Universe
Current Mood: inspired
Current Location: home
09 June 2008 @ 05:10 pm
All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go like Some Ditched Girl on Prom Night

You know, I have never felt as alone as I do now--
All dressed up with nowhere to go.
How dumb must I look to you?
Sitting here in my fancy clothes,
Crying my eyes out like some dumb girl on prom night.
But this isn't prom and this isn't high school,
Even though nothing's changed and
Everything has stayed the same--
I'm still different but you're the same.
And I'm sick and tired of taking shots and hits
And asking for no breaks or deals
And just taking this shit day after day.
Don't try to give me a guilt trip,
Because I take one every day,
And I don't need your help to feel less about myself.
In fact, I think you need to shut your mouth.
Because in the end, though I'm dressed up with no where to go,
And I'm sitting her crying my eyes out alone
And looking like an idiot while you're off at the ball,
At least I look better than you and I have only myself to thank for that.
Current Location: home
Current Mood: FIERCE
Current Music: "Take Me Away" - Yuna Ito
11 January 2008 @ 10:01 pm
I'm going through my dA account because I want to put some photos up for sale so I can get some cash because I feel sooo poor right now (which makes no sense because I just got paid...). I found this.

A Sticky Flavor of Ice Cream

Open up the freezer in my kitchen;
Pull out the ice cream box;
Scoop out my sickly sticky situation;
Singing only this sad song.

Friday night and everyone is out but me,
Screaming at my cats all night long.
Save for that, my house is still.
Quiet save simply for the rain.

Because it pounds and it pounds
And strikes and slams
Away at my little old house.
And though I am afraid, no one is near.

My inbox dings and I have mail.
Click it open and read.
Never quite as alone as I once had felt.
Now more alone than what was meant.

Sticky situations are often mirrored by food.
I dip my spoon into my situational food.
French vanilla always seemed to be
The stickiest flavor of them all to me.
Current Mood: blah
Current Music: Tru TV
Current Location: home
07 December 2007 @ 04:11 pm
When words fail and that is all you have to use
And all you have to survive,
What, then, do you do?
Do you fall into darkness
And fail in your life?
Or do you cheat, steal, and lie?
Taking words which are not yours,
Words which are not mine.
When words fail and I have lost all that I once had,
I think I shall choose to fall.
So I plummet into oblivion,
Silent, not alive.
But true and with my heart full
Of things I can never hope to express to you.
Current Mood: annoyed
Current Music: me not writing my essay
Current Location: home

Who Knew )

Force begets force, courtesy of Monsieur de Lioncourt )

EFFICACIOUS POWER! Power enough to produce the desired result without overpowering or under-powering and producing an insufficient result. Efficacious Power...it produces the most befitting effect. This is the sort of force we need to apply to our lives. We needn't necessitate more work than needed because that simply leads to unnecessary effort on our part and unforeseen consequences. If we can learn to apply this "Efficacious Power" properly, we can attain what we desire under desirable circumstances and EVERYONE can come off the better for it!

Poetry )

Yesterday I began to rewatch Digimon on YouTube...that is how bored I am. I'm past watching all of my beloved Star Trek reruns and I am now watching a show that I was obsessed with as a child. Don't get me wrong...it's a very good show. You would just think that on the cusp of my entrance into adulthood I would have better things to do with my life. Instead, I am left still feeling as if I am in the fifth grade...bloody hell.

Went out and saw I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry last night with [livejournal.com profile] kirkthehoplite. It was very good. Not at all what I was expecting...there were a few little cheesy, almost chick-flick worthy moments. I had been hoping for a flat out comedy, something more akin to the farcical Talladega Nights. I still enjoyed it...it just wasn't what I was expecting. It threw me off guard a bit.

Site Pimpage )

Harry Potter....stuff... + DH SPOILERS at bottom! )

[/ spoilers]

...Ben has my Deathly Hallows book...I want it back. NOW.
Current Location: home
Current Mood: busy as a little BEE!
Current Music: none
27 July 2007 @ 10:12 pm

Poetry: A Sticky Flavor of Ice Cream )

Had an interesting e-mail from [livejournal.com profile] naive_wanderer. I'm not going to reveal the contents, it was a private conversation, after all. I will say that we are both unhappy with how recent events have turned. Somewhat related: Also had several bowls of French vanilla ice cream. Also added all new icons...mostly Marie Antoinette flavored....

[EDIT] At least three more HP fanfics to come....only one is planned as having DH spoilers...one will be a character I've never written before....the third will be a coming out story (haha!) because I am determined to write one after this entry. Just read the first paragraph....
Current Location: home
Current Mood: pensive poetry puddles within
Current Music: "Vindicated" - Dashboard Confessional