Let's Have a... Writing? Thread?

[Qitozex]

I dunno, I feel like there's a lot more talented writers on Pojo than anyone seems to notice. Plus I feel the need to share some of the crap I've poured over and get some feedback. I guess there's the fan fiction thing, but this doesn't much fall into that. So WHATEVS.
The crashing force of one million melodic drones rush into the soundscape. Strings contort themselves around each other. A man walks. A dancer twirls. Faces paint themselves. Amusement park rides run vapidly. Flowers drain out consciousness. The man walks once more. Rain begins pouring. Light flashes. Dancers flood the streets. Dancers' feet pound the ground in unison. Words begin to form within the mind. The Dancers' skins and tissues deteriorate, though skeletons continue twirling. The world disappears. Clouds. All to see. Arms emerge from clouds. The eyes glance downward. A rushing air current erupts from below. Blank, lifeless faces pass by. White.

Black. Oceanic life returns. Bubbly forms pass. Bubbles manifest into humanoid shapes. Chimes crash, a voice calls out, "There isn't much, that I feel I need." A pair of lips transforms from nothingness, the source of the voice. The voice becomes a chant. he chant is echoed by others. A wave crashes overheard. Sharks flow by, pursued by krill and marlin. The ocean changes composition. Pinks, oranges, greens flow into the mind. Blackness. Stars blotch blackness out. Humanoid shapes grasp for limbs. Orange, red, and yellow ocean returns. The voices still emanate from all around. The ocean falls apart. Shadows emerge, melting. The shadows' heads bob rhythmically. Shadows pay no attention to their own destruction. The space explodes into color.

Water-laden footsteps echo out from the end of a hall. Drones and moans attack the ear canals. Jungle sprouts from everywhere. The Walls, the floor, the ceiling, the body itself. Movement is erased. Struggle. Desperation. Voice snides, "Are you also frightened?" A resounding, "Yes," has been sounded. The source is alien. Beads of light flow through eyes. The voice taunts once more, "Are you also frightened?" A familiar voice calls back. Limbs have been freed. Limbs claw at the face, the shoulders, the neck. The body is pulled away from the prison. Lungs bulge and contract, but are not filled.

A childish glee reverberates. Fumes bulge *utward to flames. Lights pound out the sun. Night becomes the day. A crystalline form appears. Creatures sway and buck within spherical prisons around the form. A dream is narrated aloud. The forms become clearer. More familiar. Figures of a past life. A man throws bright purple to the sky. Clothed figures tear away the prisons. The forms transmogrify into one being. The crystalline emerges from them. A mirrored image. A familiar image. A haunting image. Legs form beneath bubbled creatures. Necks stretch irresponsibly. They are broken.

Each bone crashes into thousands. The sound is harrowing. The ocean flows in once more. Slunking miscreants replace omniscient shadows. The head compresses. Mind blanks and fades. Replace. One. Two. Two. Every bone fractures. "Just... a... signal. In my... head." Eyes pop open. Mouth fills with moisture. Life returns. A door slams. A window springs. A leg steps out to the skies. A yawn. Exhaustion seeps through the eyes. Water streams down the face.

Children whine. The whine is bizarre. The mind sticks to the whine. Attention has been differed. A woman walks by. Head turns. Sky. Clouds. Eyes track down, down passed the horizon. Her curls return. Soft, golden-brown. A hand meets the other. A lock sprouts. She becomes angry. Locks fall. She vanishes. Eyes trace up the horizon. A finger snags the jaw. Mind backs to girl. Dark, brown curls. Melancholic glances. A chain is formed. A park bench becomes occupied. A park bench is vacated. Dreams unfold into reality. Ants skitter across the ground. Command center sulks into mind. Blond curls appear before the eyes. Brown floats carelessly beneath them. Curls all fade away. Clouds.

Jungle billows from darkness. Barbarous forms sprout from the skies. Hearts pound. Veins tighten. Limbs fly. Lungs patronize. Escape. Dreams percolate within the subconscious. Heart pounds. Vein tightens. Blissful majesty is formed. The mind snaps the body back into reality. Barbarous forms sprout from the trees. Hearts pound. Limbs fly. Lungs free.

Dragonflies buzz through the head. Chants have returned. Thousands more awake. Through the swarm, chants continue, "Am I really all the things that are outside of me?" All swarm distilled. The mind expands. The mind races. The mind is subdued. The mind is dragged back once more to where the mind was. The mind plots. The mind returns. The mind slinks. The mind runs free. The mind is dissatisfied.

Sprung steps beckon the mind. Golden grass caressed by sunlight sprouts, tickling the mind. A mane carlessly creeps through. Muscles tighten. Jaw clenches. The man splits into dozens. The manes leap and scurry abroad. The manes return all the mind does wonder. The manes return nothing the mind wants. The mind breaks away, frustrated. The manes return as one. The mind ignores. The mane follows, regardless.

The mind does not mind. The mind sombers, "No more running." The mind returns. The head awakens. The mind falls into the ocean once more. Breath is stripped away.

Voices plead, "Open up your throat." Body resists, mind reels images of canine monstrosities, and of children skipping through vegetation. So freely. So merrily. The body longs for that freedom. The head peaks the surface. A lamb greets it. The lamb pushes the head downward. Children return once more. Eggs crash upon the floor. Greens and blues explode from within the eggs. Reds form. Monsters return to view. Yolks bubble to the surface. Birds are angry. Birds circle the children, menace is thick. Children turn once more and plead, "Open up your throat." The mind permits. The body listens. Hands paint the mind's walls. Hands paint everything. Mind is truly happy. Mind gains what is desired, but body loses what is already had.





+1 internet to who guesses what this is about.

[Betelgeux]

part of me says it's about the dentist.


call me weird, but that's how i feel when i go there. :(




i've posted this on various sites before, but the response i get is minimal.


wrote them in an afternoon as a senior in high school. back when words excited me. the first was actually a free-write in creative writing and somehow it mushroomed...


Poems 1-4





Earth! Deep desert diving, pound sand!
Spread wings like luster in the yellow-
blue sky above and fly! Onward to
the heaven of shale and slate that awaits
all seekers, all dreamers and peekers. Find
the catatonic night and whisper to its
pagan rhythms, chant to the pentagram
of planets and glitter. Scale the vaulted
catacombs of the cathedral's ceiling and
piece precious sapphire, gold, azurite
into the eternities. Eat the fine-soiled
grunge of Sunday morning so softly
and crass, swallow the sun and let
him glimmer in your clay-painted masks,
façades, uncanny, pained. Break the boiled,
hard-baked blacks and whites and reds,
and pour them to the rune, our bell.
A swirling sacrifice ecliptic and true,
shadow the candle and cloud the mind,
peel rotting ferment, double-bent, and
love it sore. These things are fragile and few.


Fire hold my hand and laugh me close. I
dance amiss your mist, hot-craggily, bold, and fed.
You lust the cleaner soul, the girl in red
rough cotton to the pore. Squelching light
like gasoline and arson's feathered king
you sing and guard my gourd, my guide to weather more.
Rich flame in rain the sparks to ashes' clan 'ere
destinèd and lofted led, a prayer for kerosene
and dread to ward the wispy ghosts of
mountains keen and rued. Your maiden rose now raises
hellish deeds, mer flamboyante, this time chalant
to guide the lover home in fervence rent. Your lantern,
paper dragons blazing brush the harrowed lure, the hook set
last in fall, whistle-leaves a morning breaking.
Your ponder, fathom, know is knotted snuff,
a hollow sorted stuff for sinners, livers, tongues,
and whores to whom your fine-tuned's linger latter,
never first to brave the moors.


Air, the dreaming bane debonair in fame
among the window panes I see, frosty beams
reviving naught like a puppet fraught in
froth forgotten. Saccharine divinity, ambrosìal
raw symphony of seven flats, your music my
profusion as fair pithy-errant pizzicato,
winter dead at dour bravado. Wights whole be mere
oxygen bereft toward peaks of kites -- and then
your silence, moment mortal, nothing care past
breath to breathe, an ease for heads hung-
over, floating seraph, tetract clover, zephyr bound
to soothe the sore, waft soprano by
design, delendal chores and calembours and
wit compacted fine. You scent the
scene, conspiring not a whiff or whim. Chicanery
consumes the mirrored sods, whilst the silted lapsus
linguae your umpteenth protegé, the
temp'ratures and thistle-flax your gods.


Water mend your musings, rime your
sylvan clair de lune well-crested. Effervesce
your holy forthwith never festered, brothed,
nor bottled, bereaved to bubble-shimmered
clamshell, flotsam-wild, wet-detested. Combobulate
my reason, darkling 'midst rare sparkling
kingdom, crown your own unmartyred Time, crush still
your hasty green and lime, a citrus sound and serpentine
to the wyvern name in white. Free-drown my wants
and wishes, surf my tempered foot of thought and wash
me, foam, a child's star buoyed frozen to the
birds; When: exponents pathed from home. I
want to clasp your cleavèd nightmare-whale's
sacrosanct and savor, ice the twisted rims
of galaxy, your caliber, your flavor floundered
open, dust-dipped, boxed, and hoping less in
all a springtime's feathered essence, rain may sooner
bright the sailor's shape and distill old putrescence.

[DragonMaster2606]

can I post my rhymes and shizz?

[Qitozex]

@Court: My time's kinda short since I just woke up, but it looks promising. And nope, not about the dentist.

@DM: Go right ahead broski. Any and all forms of literary expression are good.

[Betelgeux]

damn i'm gonna have to read it again when i've got a moment...

[Qitozex]

In the process of writing a piece in the same vein as my OP. Will be another hour or so more likely than not, but I'm PUMPED. This one is a lot more specific and realistic, rather than the confusing, abstract stream of conscious feeling the last one had.

Additional Comment:

WHABAM:

Life moves in reverse. Blues and whites rush pass your eyes. Icy landscapes begin to creep into view, before quickly fading out into the blackness. A school of haddock introduce a world of frigid ocean. A sound of a radar chimes throughout the core of everything.

The rhythmic reverberations drone out as the immense power that surrounds you comes into realization. Suddenly, all sound stops. Nothing but the low rumble of ocean waves. Then, the haddock return, and dissipate. The radar once more enters. A gentle wave of krill brush by, and the sounds around you begin to grow in intensity and power. A deep blackness casts overhead, overtaking all. After what could have been years of intensity, the drone is cut off by a simple caress of Norway pout. Sounding but a syllable shakes the very fabric of the space around you. This power is subdued by the crashing pound of the waves above, though it quickly regains control by in influx of pout joining the school. You have realized that your mesmerism has led you over on your allotted time beneath the surface, and quickly race upward. The sounds of beauty fade, and your heart begins to pound. Harder. Faster. Frantic. Painful.

Your head breaks the surface. Serenity. Birds fly overhead. you simply lay back, enjoying the peaceful serenity of the world around you. The simple rustle of geese is all your mind needs to relax itself. Though, the mind remains restless and anxious, wanting to return to the subsurface. Your head bumps the side of a boat. Your boat. You restock your oxygen and quickly dive back under. Another twenty minutes can surely be long enough to satisfy your curiosity. The birds' calls and rustles and splashes fade out just before your jump straight back in. Dolphin suddenly swarm your location, diving up and over the waters, making enormous crashes of water each time. The pod quickly makes its way out of the region, leaving you to once more bask in the glory of the life beneath. Though all is quiet. The source of the radar is still very faint within the background, but nothing else. The radar fades, and nothing but the gentle ocean current remains. This, in itself, is as majestic as the vibrant array of noise you so desperately sought after in the first place. A distant buzz begins to form.

The pace of the ocean has slowed considerably. The few creatures that pass by are large and hulking. The atmosphere of the sea has changed considerably in the five minutes you've floated above it. You sink deeper, striving to find that serenity once more. The school of Norway pout have revealed themselves once more, though they're quickly shied away by your approach. The space they once occupied is immediately filled, however, by blue whiting. That school disappears just as abruptly, and is filled with just as much urgency with torsk. All becomes silent once more as this final group disappears into the murky blue.

A dense foghorn blares in the distance, heavily muffled by the water above. Skates and rays swim by carelessly. Porpoise reveal themselves as well. Noise has once more become a part of life. Immersion has once more taken over your mind. Manifesting the normal state of human curiosity into an insatiable desire to discover. To explore and to contemplate all that exists. The world begins to unfold into an enormous vista of beauty once this event occurs. Everything truly begins to spiral right within our eyes.

Your mind has once more spaced out and you lost all knowledge of just what has been happening. Your heartbeat once more accelerates, and you claw your way back to the surface once more. Though, you are no longer quite as urgent with your ascent as before. You more casually float up, and make your way to your boat once more, and sail back to shore. On the way, you continue contemplating existence in general. All that has been experienced, and all that shall be experienced is so arbitrary and unpredictably abstract and beautiful. Even the simplest moments can be the greatest. The simplest sights and sounds and smells could very well outweigh the hustle and bustle of modern life.

Really happy with how this has turned out.

Additional Comment:

hey guys, this thread's dying :(

Fireworks crackle in the distance. That moment of calm just before the grand finale has just passed, and there's all kinds of pops and bursts going off now, but none of that can be heard. The grass beneath their legs, the warmth of the head resting on the shoulder. The texture of the hair streaming through the fingers. All of that tears away any other sense that could possibly be. The fireworks are nothing but white noise to this heavenly bliss. Voices call off "They Are Free".

They spring to their feet. They take off running. They don't know where, but they'll find somewhere interesting. Something glorious to do. Something to burn away the hours left of this wondrous summer night. They playfully attack one another, diving and jutting in and out of the path the other is leading. They come toward a bridge over a scenic, little pond. They both jump on to the railings, catching their balance beautifully. They continue to run.

The end has become their domain. But, they strip off their expensive clothes and jump straight into the frigid waters of the pond, sinking in knee-deep. They dance. Completely ridiculously, their jumps lead-footed by the thick waters. Still, they just barely manage to catch the floor of the bridge off their jumps and land flat onto the surface, drenching themselves and each other time and time again. Frogs churn the air with their gentle hums. The pair jump upon the rocks, repeating the same ecstatic, erratic evocations.

Cold begins to set into their skins, and they rush to dry themselves off, jump a bit. They lay out in the grass once more, the sound of fireworks still faintly audible from the heavens. Rustling begins, and the grasses become disturbed. The awkward process of tugging clothes on seems so vivid and fluid in this blissfulness. A smirk spreads across her face, and he replies with a, "What?" Cut off by his back crashing into the water. Another splash.

"I can't believe you just did that!" He smiles. She smiles back. "You're so great." Gentle ripples dot the surface once more. Ripples turn to waves. Waves die back down to ripples, which quickly subside to stillness. Frogs sound once more. The fireworks are over. Lightning bugs dot the skies above. Coldness begins to set in once more, though they remain as they are. Dragonflies buzz overhead, blotched out by the mass of lightning bugs that have approached. Ripples begin once more as the pair wade outside the water, and head toward the wood. He pulls off some branches. He piles them up, and she pulls out her lighter. They somehow manage to fuel a fire, and they begin to dry themselves, watching the specks of fire swirl upward.

That comfortable silence returns once more. The sun's warmth has disappeared from the night. Shivers run across the limbs of the two. The two draw closer to each other, and to the fire. "Hey", she murmurs. A single flame flicks. The two lay back once more, grins spread 'cross their faces. Wide and brilliant. Firewood crackles still in the distance, but none of that can be heard. The grass beneath their legs, the warmth of the head resting on the shoulder. The texture of the hair streaming through the fingers. The warm tickle of breath and soft thump of heartbeat. All of that tears away any other sense that could possibly be. The fireworks are nothing but white noise to this heavenly bliss.

They spring to their feet. They take off running. They don't know where, but they'll find somewhere interesting. Something glorious to do. Something to burn away the hours left of this wondrous summer night. They run together, A single, solitary, blazing trail through the grasses. She bounds upward, latching on to a tree branch. He pulls herself within the twigs and branches. She follows shortly after. They lay together, serenading the warmth of the other, and lulling off into sleepiness.

A blaring begins. Eyes widen. What's the time? Four in the morning. ****. Eyes Bulge. A shake. Another pair of eyes bulges. They drop from the tree, and sprint off. Passed the smolders of their fire. Passed the bridge and the pond. Passed the hill upon which they observed the fireworks. Into the seat of his sedan. Key turns, a shift to drive, a foot to the ground, and they were off. Off the side road, onto the main street. Onto the highway. Metal crashes together. Airbags fly open. Glass shards. Life leaves.

Eyes pop open. Fireworks crackle in the distance.

[The_Snowy_Owl]

Unfortunately, all I have are a couple of "pick-up" poems, and a song (just lyrics) I wrote for some friends in PA.

[Crusader87]

Nice writing guys, very descriptive and captivating. Reading your passengers makes me feel as if I'm experiencing it.

As for my stuff, guess I'll post some "poems" of written between the years.

I'll start off with the most "apt" one.....

The Coming of Summer

The coming of Summer arrives on wings
From a goddess so elegant and serene
And what she also brings
Are fruits of the season and fields of green
She comes bearing gifts of plenty
And a season of love that is never empty
The coming of Summer arrives on golden wings
From a goddess who can so blissfully sing
And with her the residual essence of Spring
And the discovery of beauty in everything
She paints the rye golden and the skies blue
And the meadows green and the night sky a violet hue
She cares for the setting Sun and the rising Moon
And for the red roses and when the birds sing a tune
But when the Summer ends
To the other Seasons she must attend

[D-Slayer]

A Lil Piece Of Writitng I Did For Fun For An English Language Literacy Competition 2 Months Ago -Got Me a Solid Grade B / 80 % Anyway - 1% off an A LOL

When was the last time you saw a homeless man or woman in the street? Did you ever wonder what reason made that person want to or have to live on the streets with no place to go? What if your landlord came to you today and told you, you no longer had a place to live or your mortgage payments were so far behind that your home was in jeopardy of being replaced or maybe you are the victim of domestic violence. If you have no friends or family WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

There are millions of people faced with situations similar to these on a day to day basis. Up to 100 million people are homeless. These poor forgotten souls exist, often in slums or on the streets begging for some money or hope with card board signs or paper cups their language of communication. Their desperate cries however are left untouched. These poor souls have lost family and friends living in poverty decaying away from our society.

Knowing that people are suffering are we not responsible for this crime against humanity. We are after all human beings living a corrupt world. We are as much to blame as everyone else. We blame politicians, millionaires, footballers, fashion models, film stars, etc, for the issue of homelessness but in reality are we not living in a country where everyone is concerned about keeping their pockets stuffed with money rather than showing any kind of concern for the poor people who exist in this miserable place.

Most people become homeless specifically because they are having a housing crisis, even though they may have other needs for services and increased incomes. It’s important to realize that their needs are best met once the family is in permanent housing - not while they are in transitional housing or shelters. Housing must be first if they are expected to develop a sustainable, healthy lifestyle.

Homelessness can often cause or be caused by serious health problems. Illnesses that are closely associated with homelessness and poverty include tuberculosis, AIDS, malnutrition, and severe dental problems. Other health problems in society such alcoholism, mental illnesses, and physical disabilities are even more debilitating for the homeless, since they may have no shelter or money to manage the problem. People without shelter could easily get frostbite, get infections, or be victims of violence, even in public shelters. They are also more likely to cohabitate with drug addicts, alcoholics, and/or others with disease.

If you had no support system who would you turn to? If you could help to make a difference to some one in a situation like this then it would be comforting to know if not you then someone else would have a friend to turn to for help and assistance.

Many people are homeless by without any other option. Even though homelessness will exist for many years to come and we all can do something to try ridding the world of this plague, tormenting poor innocent souls. We should all help homeless people.

So the next times you see a homeless woman or man don’t just stand there and do nothing. We all exist in this world being present in others time of need and we all have a duty to help our fellow human beings in their time of need.

....

Anyway Enjoy

Thanks For Reading / (If anyone Did)

Comments Appreciated (Though Not Necessary)

D-SLayer