Where'd the Monsters go.?We stopped checking under our beds
The monsters don’t live there anymore.
Figments of diseased imagination,
Or imagination, a doorway,
To stark, terrible reality.
Don’t close the door.
They warned us.
This switch is rigged.
On is off and off is on.
We turn on the lights,
By falling into blackness,
Stepping into darkness,
The monsters aren’t under our beds.
We turned our backs,
They’re in our heads,
They warned us.
Writing Tournament 2014 ~ Round ICome one and come all, raise your pen take part in this grand literary battle! There are subscriptions, points, art, features, and more to be won! You all have until February 12th to enter.More Like This
The time is nigh for the Fourth Annual Writers--club Literature Tournament!
This is a tournament for all writers welcoming prose and poetry! It will be a grand competition spanning three rounds of literary challenge! First of all, you must be willing to write for each of the rounds over the coming months.
There will be judging at the end of each round and those who progress to the next round will have to write a new piece for the next round's theme. A new participants list with the surviving writers will be released upon the announcement of the new round.
To sign up, join the group as a member and add this blog entry to your favorites. From there, feel free to submit your entry to the Tournament Round 1 Folder.
Writing ProcessThe pen is heavier than lead,More Like This
Yet, I think instead,
that the inking inertial flow,
would leave me amazed, surprised, aglow.
And write I would,
with a will resolute,
that will its inkling smote,
on the pearly shining moat.
I will write on in hardest of times,
with a heart that rhymes and mimes,
Have you heard of my name? Nay?
You must have in some way.
Alternately, you know it!
The springly, smiling, poet.
2000 POINT CONTEST! (closed)Hello there, I've decided to have a contest for writers of all levels (for those artists that have stumbled upon this, I'll hopefully have a drawing contest in the future). Even if you aren't a writer, you still have a chance to win 200 points!More Like This
100 points will be given to someone at random who faves this journal.
Another 100 points will be given to someone who features this in their own journal.
Simply link me and you'll be put in the drawing. Yes, it's possible for you to win twice!
You do not need to be one of my watchers to join. Anyone can participate but make sure to check back every now and then in case of updates.
I wish I could offer more than 2k points as prizes but unfortunately, I'm a college student and don't have an unlimited source of income. lol Donations are welcome and appreciated! You can donate points or offer your drawing skills for the winners that way we can add more points to the prizes or have giveaways to participates.
Esteem.Esteem.More Like This
Your loneliness has spread to your eyes,
It has now become a part of who you are.
You can no longer keep contract of your own lies.
Everyone else but you can see that this has gone too far.
Your expressions and body language have become bionic.
It’s almost like the lights are on but the room has been ransacked.
What is ironic is that you try so hard to subtly avoid the topic.
I choose and use my words carefully because I know how you will react.
There is only so much I can say or do; the rest is solely up to you.
Only you can dispose of the trespasser that lies underneath.
If you only knew the trials you have unintentionally put me through.
Maybe then you will shed your grief and embark onto a new leaf.
I hope you take my sincere concerns on board.
Because time is one thing none of us can afford
To squander and wonder our lives away.
Be true to yourself.
Individuality.Individuality.More Like This
These days most people are other people.
Only a few templates are distributed amongst the billions.
Maybe it’s because they see themselves as less than equals.
So they base and paste their thoughts from someone else’s opinions.
Their unfulfilled lives a mimicry.
Obtaining incompatible abilities.
Altering their figures physically.
Their passions are quotations.
Their theories are past equations.
They become victims of affiliations.
Remoulding their models into the shape of their role models.
Worshipping the words of Drake, Einstein, Rhianna and Aristotle.
Pursuing the idolised physique of a manufactured Coca Cola bottle.
They squeeze themselves into already overcrowded groups.
But you can only have so many cards in one particular suit.
To every leader there will always be surplus of recruits.
This process progresses day by day.
To the point where he and she have become they
“Mummy, when I grow up I want to be just like them”
Is what they all will s
MCitR: Bright Lights, Big CityOnce, he supposes, cities lit up at night.More Like This
He's seen the pictures. Nyok, back before it all came down, every street and house and skyscraper blazing like a torch. Svega, all neon signs and light-up billboards a mile long, more like a fever-dream than anywhere anyone'd actually go to. Lun-over-the-sea, with the Circle lit all round the rim like a targeting reticle. Cuver, Aussin, Scow, you look hard enough and you'll find pictures of 'em all, each as bright and shiny as if they'd had a hundred thousand base-generators powering 'em up.
Nice bright shiny targets, the way he sees it. Not as if there weren't wars back then, either - hell, they'd planes and bombers to spare. Drones, too, and not the crappy tin-cans the Arkei've got scouting the places out neither. Proper NTF-style kit, with twice the money and a good deal more time spent on the tech.
No wonder it all came down. Light yourselves up like that, you're practically shouting your location to the nearest bunch of bastards who want
Shit.Shit.More Like This
I unintentionally use it almost every day.
In a sudden hiccup, I slip up and it slips out.
Even when I can’t think of anything else to say.
You can bet beyond a shadow of a doubt.
That exact word will seep and creep out.
It makes its way into any given conversation.
It’s probably the most used default abbreviation.
It requires no effort and rolls out with no hesitation.
It’s so universal it can be suited to every situation.
In an upsurge it will emerge with no indication.
How can one word have so many definitions.
And still have the same effect despite its repetition.
How can this same word blur all the lines of divisions.
Between polite pleasantries to abusive abrasions of affliction.
How can the tone and meaning change after every rendition.
This word sounds exactly like what it means.
You scream it, shout it and even mutter it under your breath.
No matter how big or little the occasion may seem.
Just unleashing it will take a load off your chest.
You say it w
To The Beautiful YouTo The Beautiful You:More Like This
Here we are, sitting behind these screens of glass,
Reading lines of text, yet smiling, laughing and crying.
It's strange to think that I could have this much fun -
Considering that I've never met you before, but then again
Perhaps that's the reason why I don't have to pretend.
Some people might tell me, that what we have is just a fantasy,
I doubt I'll have the chance to actually see you in this life-time.
But even so, in the time that we've spent together - Well,
I feel as though I've connected with you, more than anyone else.
I feel as though I know you better, than those just a few feet away.
You might take this little confession as something silly,
Maybe you'll even forget about it as time passes,
But I for one could never forget about someone like you,
And so I'd like to dedicate this piece, to the beautiful you.
-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th December 2012
I Can't Devour You, Not YetI Can't Devour You, Not Yet:More Like This
I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.
Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...
Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!
Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire -
& body be turned to dust and ash...
If only for the chance to feast once more!
Ah, my dear - I will have you.
& on that day it will be so sweet.
But for now - I'm afraid that -
I must leave this as a mere - tantalizing - fantasy...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th December 2012
Alone but AliveAlone but Alive:More Like This
Oh here I am standing,
A lost soul is landing.
The coldest December,
Can you still remember?
Do you even hear me?
There's no one around me!
Oh shadow that I see,
The void right behind me.
Yet still I am breathing;
Yet still I am feeling.
The coldest sensation,
Oh worthless creation!
Are you still crying?
Oh why are you lying - abandoned and cold
Cold like what was left of soul,
Made of all the life you stole.
Walk divine but made of sin,
Worm of hatred squrim within.
Sin of lust and sin of pride,
Lash the tongue that last has lied.
Yours was silver with a promise,
Kiss of death and then you vomit.
Burning bile of ugly treason,
No one else can know the reason.
Left a soul behind to burn;
You are the reason I have turned...
On this cold and endless night...
When I'm finally pierced by the light...
And I awaken from this hell...
ALONE - BUT ALIVE!
Alive and again oh do I dare?
To give this heart and to lay it bare.
When heaven cast its fate
Donna and Zane: Romeo and Juliet part 2!!!! Big. It was the only way Zane could come to describe the inside even though the outside seemed too small to be a gym. ‘Well,’ thought Zane, ‘I am familiar with the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover”, but this is ridiculous!’ The building had wooden floors and walls, made out of the strongest wood ever found. A giant stage, one that looked as if it came out of a theater, took up the entire right side (the side opposite of the door, so they got a pretty good view of it.). There were nets on the walls of either side of the stage, and a volleyball net that stood strong and sturdy on poles with concrete filled tires at the base pushed up against a corner of the stage. On the other corner, there was a tower of roughly thirty-two tires. Big, monster truck tires. What the heck were they supposed to do with those?! Anyway…there was a basketball hoop right next to the doors of the gymnasium. At two corners (the oneMore Like This
the ocean is big but my heart is bigger andMore Like This
i must be intoxicated
with your affection,
begging the ocean
for your sweet embrace
that would surround me
like flies to a corpse-
(it keeps them alive.)
just like you keep me conscious
with your sweet sweet
words from your velveteen tongue
that speaks of a time
far away from now
when we are
i plead for time
to grow feathers and fly,
as my addiction to
your sweet sweet love grows
oh fear i cannot
wait much longer
why must you be so far away
Submerged in Swan LakeMore Like This
Swans and wings are floating by
on a breeze imbued with jasmine and
willows outstretching their arms in welcome.
Through deep breaths he arrives
plunged in murky, pungent water.
A quiet whisper, and he prays -
"Please... may I linger here?"
Willows lower their arms
and jasmine falls to the Earth
where the wind dies and finally rests.
The crows are cawing hymns,
begging to be swans.
But only the duck submerged in Swan Lake
has delved the desired shore.
Its waters dangerous and plagued
by monsters baring their teeth;
most ghastly and putrid they are
that no crow may ripple its surface
nor any songbird seeking beauty fair.
The Swan Maidens bare their chests
and open their wings in veneration -
for the duck has sought beauty through courage
and earned his guise of grace and virtue.
Moon Branding (001)A loner in denimMore Like This
and faded band tees,
you were on the hunt
when I met you.
Hitching a breath--
you caught a piece of night
in your black abyss eyes.
It lodged there--
that haunted you.
and one missing moon later,
before leaving me
to the vultures
and the dawn.
Slow Sign : 'Hiatus Seal'Hi, guys. Long time no see.More Like This
Wow, it really is been a while, huh? How long is it? 6 months? 8?
rl stuff attacked me with full force. From art-block, money crisis, to the point I nearly lose my ability to draw. Now that I think about it, it was full of bad moments that I really thank God that I could get it throught to this day.
About that last point, I think I need to explain it more.
So it happened near the end of the year. I forgot the details, but maybe it happened during the span of October to November. My Boss gave me so many works that by the time I finish them, there's something wrong with my right arm. How do you call it again? Muscle fatigue? Weakness? I don't know, it just feel really hurts just to move it. I tried to doodle like usual, but it didn't work. It all messed up because I couldn't seem to concentrate to draw however strong I force it, thanks to the unbearable pain in my arm.
Plus the depression I got from the art-block and said crisis... Well, I think that is the cu
CONTEST TIME - 14,5K points+art to win!Yes yes...FINALLY, I CAN HOLD A CONTEST ;O; Please read carefully!More Like This
I wanted to do a contest since almost a year, but I didn't feel ready for it. I can't wait forever - I finally decided to hold it! I'm editing this journal since August.../slaps
I hope this time you will be more satisfied with the prizes, I'll try to do as many prizes as I will be able to give.
It's a ''draw my character'' contest, so the only one thing you need to do is draw one (or more) of my characters from the list below C:
Spreading the info about the contest would be really greatly appreciated ;///; I don't know how many people would want to join it, I'm still kinda stressed. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that no one will even look at this journal. Please help me to make this contest a bit more popular ;///; Even a small journal can help.
- don't be afraid that I won'
Standing stonesMore Like This
the ghosts of stone trees,
and Gaelic calligraphy
like the witches of Hamlet
with robes concealing their forms,
their wind-blown altar
with shadows stretching,
barren and lichen-strewn
look at the mirror and fall in love at first sightgive yourself a flowerMore Like This
and wear your favorite
sit in a nice, quiet
little coffee shop
and meet yourself
with that first sip
and a smile.
in the afternoon,
walk to the nearest park
and hold your hands
as if in a prayer
like a lover's dream,
be sweet to yourself
let the kid with the waffle cone
and his mother
stare at you for 45 seconds
while you feed the birds
hang those insecurities
by the door
or tuck them away
in your cabinets
just take them off
pick a hot red dress
and buy yourself
a drink for two
mirror at one end
of the table
and your love
at the other.
the difference between crests and crustaceansbruised blue beneath heavy lidsMore Like This
a matrix of medical maladies
overlooked, betacrafted, underachieved
love is like stepladders
walk too close and you slip, tumble,
shatter at the bottom
a final spinal crust cresting the crustacean
your fingers splayed like the axis
a graph of how little my whispers matter
and how far we have to go to bridge the gap
between brittle and broken in two
Black Hole and a StarMy mother picks up her spoon and points,More Like This
“ a black hole can’t be with a star.”
When I just bite my lips, she sighs, and tells
counting galaxies won’t save me from your presence.
I can’t answer, her words are lost to your presence
You are a black hole that I want to crawl into,
and wear around as my new sweater.
It would be an imperfect sweater overflowing
with the feeling of you .
I come with plasma trailing behind me to clean
out the continuous darkness; distribute elements
to heal your gaping holes.
When I feel your tug, struggle to get out of the way
and pick up the pieces that spin out.
I will not be pulled too far in, even if science says light can not even escape you.
But I ask quietly , “what if I don’t want to escape anytime soon?”
Still LifeAs a child I planted a singleMore Like This
seed where the sidewalk ends,
near the place of your remains.
It grew into an oak; strong and rigid.
Every autumn, I would watch
the leaves as they wither
away; as if to tell me that the
darkest times are coming
And that I should brace myself
For your death
Winters, I spend looking out
Into dusk, and admiring
the beauty of still life.
Through your slumber
I patiently wait for
The ferryman to carry
You home, but I've yet
To feel your warmth set free.
Springs, I see the branches
Rekindle their light,
I see the sunshine
For the first time
In forever ago.
I feel at ease.
I feel at home.