Setting SailSetting Sail11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I stretch to look upon an ocean
vast and bleak,
thrilled by the Asian face
to shed a shine of glossy varnish
and leave untrammelled beauty
still intact after so long.
Inside, the hauling up of cargo,
fresh oranges, limes,
and something surly to go with bread:
musty bookends prop charts uncanny;
luminance at the windows,
in dead of night deckhands sweat at work.
Stare down quickening tide, white with breakers,
no need to look further
while the foam of distance flails
and taunts with beckoning candour;
nostrils screaming the scent of bitter salt,
and thistles grow down to the beach
using space without reservation.
Put your shoulder to this buttress,
boys; the dam un-breached.
For every breathing outcast, learn to sail
and let's be turning South;
rope and sandalwood decks adrift
in unquiet fire,
shout Truth from each loosed tirade.
I look again to the sea amassing
strength to challenge.
My will to live breathes spray anew,
enough to gasp at Dachau.
_classy girls sometimes i'll watch you while you talk,_classy girls8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the way your perfect mouth seems
to form every
our sex. your hair.it's nights like theseour sex. your hair.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when I love you most. when
you're gone but I swear
I can feel the tips of your fingers
on my shoulder blades
or pushing the hair
from my eyes,
my lips (my lips on
you leave me hot
and flushed, not sleeping,
not breathing but craving
your arms, your teeth,
your body. run my hands
over your trembling stomach
ragged and breathing
on top of me, like
I could burn imprints of
myself into you. to be all yours.
but you're not even here.
I want to give everything I have
I cry out your name like
angels sing (like
heaven came inside of
until I wake up wet and
collapse into the pillow and inhale
the smell of spring,
sex, and your
Twisted Wonderland Part 1PrologueTwisted Wonderland Part 19 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
A family that once was peaceful is now chaos. A mother and father quarrel and twin sons and a daughter watch in fear and despair. They cannot escape the problem at their home, the house is the prison that sets the stage for a turn of events that will wreck their home, their minds, and the life of a friend who believes this is his fault. This is not his doing, but that of her own. Drawn to the edge by such a quarrel she decided it was okay to go to us, and it wasn't long before she became addicted to us. We were a heaven, a sanctuary that was at first relief, but killed her resolve in the end. After that, she was so far gone, too far gone to be saved, not even by the love the heart of her best friend, her secret admirer, could offer.
A story that begins so pure will end so bloody. What could kill her so easily took so many. The tale we tell began a year ago on this day.
Day 1 - "April 1st"
She woke up to her brother's call, and had gotten barely any sleep at all. Tha
How to start a webcomicMaking a Web Comic Part I: Finding a StoryHow to start a webcomic9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
The first and most important thing to start a web comic is to have a story. You could be the best artist on the West side of France, but it won't make a difference if your story sucks. People are grabbed first by good art and second by a good story. Art can only go so far; it is the story that will keep your readers reading. One fine example of this is Fox Tails by Fallon Willard. The art is lacking in quality, but the story is fantastic. This first part of "Making a Web Comic" covers the key elements of finding a story.
So, you know you want to do a web comic, but you're lacking in ideas for a story. You have a few different options:
1. Find a writer who already has a story. There are a lot of writers out there with fantastic ideas, but lack the skills to express them in art. The best place to look for these writers is usually in the
How To WriteAbstract: an analytical approach to plotting and writing fiction upwards of 1,000 wordsHow To Write11 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Acknowledgements: the potentially amazing Rachel (IfrozenspiritI) served as guinea pig to this; go and tell her to finish the product of that experiment, because you'll love it. Chris Widdison (tearstone) approached me indecently with the idea of writing a longer essay (which will still happen, and be a lot more purdy than this here thing), which would incorporate this essay in another form, amongst others. He doesn't need to read any of this, because he already knows it all.
Target audience: young, inexperienced writers, especially those that find themselves pulling off vignettes and other super-short forms with an ease, while chronically unable to produce anything with more than a handful of scenes and more than 1,000 words.
Part 1: The Premise takes a look at the basic idea behind a piece
Part 2: The Story fills in some of those blanks and gives u
Baka no HaikuBaka no Haiku8 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Baka no Haiku or The Complete Moron's Guide to Haiku
I have all these . . . thoughts.
Deep thoughts, you know what I mean?
Chicken . . . or the egg . . .
apples, dammitThe Big Secret to Learning How to Draw:apples, dammit7 years ago in Editorial More Like This
In the Beginning... You see an apple, and you draw an apple. You look at your drawing, and it's utter crap. It looks nothing like the real thing, and you wonder why. "Hey, a real apple is red and round. My drawing is red and round. Huh. What's wrong?"
You draw some more apples. Many times.
And finally, one day, you have a Eureka! moment. You realize, *d'oh!* a real apple isn't entirely round! It's wider at the top, narrower underneath. It's got funky little lumps at the bottom. It's got a dip like a crazy deep belly button at the very top. You draw another apple. The result is better, but it's still crap. Much nicer crap than before, but still.... Hmm.
You draw more apples. Repeat.
Another day of drawing, another Eureka! moment. Hello! The red isn't really red. This particular apple is slightly darker than true red. And it's got some tiny tan spots on it. And at the top, the red turns into a pale green color near the stem. You draw an apple once
Making a Web Comic Part IIMaking a Web Comic Part II8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Making a Web Comic Part II: Paneling
The second most important part of a webcomic (or any comic for that matter) is paneling. This sounds simple, but really, its not. When considering a Panel layout you should consider what is happening in that Scene.
Is this an introduction, a love scene, or an action scene? These seem to be the most common types of scenes (in my opinion). The introduction scene generally builds up the story. Not all introduction scenes are introducing someone, they are mostly just informative and help to further the plot. Here is an example link
Introduction Scenes have a tendancy to be boxy, and form fitting. Rarely do they have empty space or action lines. They follow a concise order. In the example above you can see that your eye easily follows the conversation because you read left to righ
Toothpaste and SpamA guy I know eats toothpasteToothpaste and Spam14 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Ingesting every tube
I thought he had peculiar taste
Until I found I liked his food.
Now whenever I am snacking
I munch some hardened Crest
Or Aquafresh with minty zing
Is arguably the best.
But then one day a casual chat
Came to rest on spam
Then I remembered that meaty fat
With preservatives (and ham).
I asked my toothpaste friend
How he liked those pork remains
To my surprise he hated them
And my respect turned to disdain.
Soon I realized that my dispute
Was really over naught
I might as well be eating fruit
For all I had been taught.
So I went to prove that paste and ham
Could coincide with each other
I took a chunk of Crest and spam
And stuffed them down my throat together.
Forever will I rue this day
When spam and paste were mixed and swirled
But now, who has an empty tray?
I think I'm gonna hurl.
So You Wanna Be a Writer?Many writers profess their desire to be novelists or poets, and sometimes even journalists, but very few--indeed, even those sitting with Creative Writing degrees, know what other options are out there for someone gifted with words. Your old Alma Mater wasn't lying when they said you could do "anything" with an English Literature degree, but they may have been leaving out much of the story.So You Wanna Be a Writer?8 years ago in Editorial More Like This
For writers, especially those trying to break into the publishing business, the world is a daunting (and often depressing) place. Securing a literary agent is almost necessary in today's oversaturated market and, while many publishers are still looking for the 'next big thing' or a new revival of the ever-dying 'literary fiction', just as many are happy to continuing publishing texts that make money. Do not lose hope, however! Publishing the Great American Novel is not the only way to call yourself a writer, and sometimes you can slip in through the back d
Translyrics: The Uncooperative Screw and the Rain"Hey, my eardrums kinda feel they're meltingTranslyrics: The Uncooperative Screw and the Rain3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
And there's a warmth coming from my fingertips.
I still don't know why all of this happens."
Eventually we will forget about all of this,
And you too will one day fade away from everyone's memories.
But I haven't "forgotten" everything just yet.
This turning, swirling planet will
Never ever take notice of people like me.
I didn't even know 'till now
That my heart had rusted shut long ago.
I never said that I would protect you in any way.
This one, who has long since been broken
Has stopped believing in anyone.
"Without an audience to watch it,
The rain softly falls and vanishes again."
Ahh, I shouldn't say such foolish things out loud, ahh.
Ahh, I can see red bursting through my eardrums
And feel it melting away in the back of my head.
It seems I still "can't" hear anything properly.
This turning, swirling planet will
Never ever take notice of people like me.
I didn't even know 'till now
That my heartbeat had started to rust away.
I want to
One Feisty Feline [Cat!Romano X Human!Reader]One Feisty Feline [Cat!Romano X Human!Reader]3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I'm home!" you called out as you pushed open your front door. Hands full of grocery bags, you close the door with your foot. Not a minute after announcing your presence in the house, a blur ran out from your room and over to your legs. Standing there, nuzzling your shin was your tabby cat, Romano.
Romano had become extremely protective of you once you had found out that you were pregnant. Your fiancé, whose child you were pregnant with, was currently overseas on military business, so you were left alone with Romano. You had just gotten your cat around the time your fiancé and you had started dating. He had always been rather protective of you, but as of late, he would refuse to leave your side. He would throw fits when you would have guests over, not that he wasn't always getting mad when you had others over, especially males.
But lately, he would hiss and sometimes even bite if you had company. Speaking of company, your friend Alfred was going to come over today.
arco-iris monocromaticoarco-iris monocromatico9 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
dizer que o céu é todo azul
sem olhar pras nuvens
ou se preocupar com a noite
esperar os dias passarem por você
e você não por eles
dar um pequeno sopro na primeira peça
apreciar a imagem daquilo tudo
pegar o primeiro avião
e não olhar pra trás
subir até o topo da montanha
pra ouvir o eco da sua voz terminal
sentar-se ao piano e interpretar as mais simples
pressionar nele várias teclas
perceber que o som não é mais
sair pra caminhar por um parque
sentar onde costumava ser
seu balanço preferido
balançar-se sem tirar os pés do chão
ouvir dos pássaros que esqueceram como cantar
a linda canção de que também não se lembra
e enchergar na areia
os maços de cigarro que um amiguinho colecionava dentro da lancheira
os tombos no parque
os castelos dos sonhos no parque
as crianças que pulavam no parque
e ver que o parque
não é mais
insomnia.one a.m.insomnia.7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i couldn't sleep. i was too busy tossing and turning and throwing my pillow at the shadows dancing in my room.
i tried counting sheep, but somehow, one became two became three became fifty became purple became what the hell is wrong with me?
i glanced at my phone and thought about calling you. and then i realized that you're never the one to call me, and that stung, and i decided to count the stains on my ceiling instead.
some idiot set his car alarm off, and the other cars answered, forming an odd sort of melody.
i wanted to answer with a scream of my own, but i forced it to stay in.
sleep was calling my phone, but i couldn't find it to answer. i wondered if i lost it.
i finished counting the stains, and there were twenty-six on my ceiling. the shadows were laughing at me - or maybe it was me, laughing at myself.
i stumbled through my closet to find my phone, finally answering to sleep.
'alyssa.' i didn't reply.
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens10 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him.
My father. Master of Ravens. Crow-Runner. The Blackbird King.
I pull on my winter boots, knot the coarse laces.
My little brother asks, 'Cam. Where are you going?'
'Out,' I tell him.
'To play in the snow?'
'To look at it.'
When he was born, my little brother was named Taliesin. His is a world without myths, of course. Such things perished in the great f
End of times.Here I lie dying,End of times.5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
for the harbingers I stay waiting,
loyal until the end
Of my body,
you will take willingly;
Of my mind,
you will take sparingly;
but my heart you will take