Ye Olde Vault

Ye Olde  Vault: contains some of my old works. These were uncovered while going through notebooks from years past. It also contains some attempts of new forms of short poetry.

Broken Toys

Not long ago I was your favorite toy,

Fragile in the hands of such an ambitious boy.

Once open, I was easily broken.

Left alone, my tears spilled to the ground.

Nevermore did I see you come around,

Uncovered here by sheer circumstance,

Will you forget me again or give me one more chance?

Can you repair my mental state?

Come around more, Don't hesitate.

Demanding thou I may seem to be,

I'm just looking for someone who loves me for me.

My Reality

I bare the scars naivety, viciously etched into my heart by malicious friends and brutal lovers. The world is a cold cruel place and even now I cannot escape the people who seek to undo me.

Salvation is but a dream, my only refuge is a steady retreat into a realm of my own creation. An internal land of magic and mystery where I rein supreme unhindered by social norms and insufferable expectations.

Forsaken

I suffer a life of isolated existence because although I am old enough to know better, I believe there is good in all people. With this theory engrained into my heart and soul I walk out upon a teetering ledge of uncertainty hoping that maybe this time, maybe this person will not disappoint.

Happy Days turn to weeks and then the first stone falls. Honesty, is a trait that so few possess and those that can capture it seldom put to good use. The lies flourish into a garden of deceit and betrayal as the ones I love trespass upon my heart.

Can love survive where there is no trust?

Betrayed

What Was Will Never Be Again.
No Love Left In The Eyes Of Men.

So I Take Up My Scimitar Once More.
To Train For The Blood Bath, That Lies In Store.

At Strong Hold Find and Hear Me RAWR,
Standing On The Corpses That Litter The Floor.

Revenge Hath Never Taste So Sweet,
Watch Your Ass Next Time We Meet.

As Family, United We Stand,
For In Ninety-Five We Own The Land!

Torment
(Acrostic)

T ired eyes rest upon your picture

O verwhelming ache rips at the heart

R elentless screams escape well parted lips

M alevolent thoughts take shape in the mind

E xhaustion seeks to cloud better judgement

N eurosis creeps ever closer under dark cover

T ears unyielding stain a grief- stricken face

Frog Life
(Haiku)

Hidden Under Shrub

A Tree Frog Stays To Slumber

The Sun Fades Night Falls

 

Call Of The Wild

(Cinquain)

Forests
Somber, Ruthless
Calling, Watching, Waiting
Creatures Anxious For Their Next Meal
Jungles

The Creator

(Simple Rhyme)

I am the creator, the maker of these lands

I know every port of call, and every grain of sand
With a flick of my pen new worlds spring to life
Many lush and wondrous, others filled with strife

All the inhabitants have an engaging story to be told
Some search for love, while others seek out gold
Even the foulest villain has a gripping tale to tell
A product of his environment, he learnt to rebel

I am responsible for all the images you see
Under the vivid skies, and the turbulent sea
As the writer, they have all derived from me
Strategically placed, where I desire them to be

Till my characters take on a will of their own
And soon my initial influence is overthrown
At night they continue to whisper in my head
They see no good reason, to run off to bed

So there I sit in the middle of the night
Pencil in hand, making use of the light
Writing down their adventures past
So that I can get some sleep at last
 

Fateful Lovematu

(Simple Rhyme)
 

When a heart opens, a person glows,
To whom yours will belong no one knows
You must wait patiently for that fateful day
And not let yourself be lead astray

Some say they have your best interest in mind
Others, that love is fleeting and often blind
Do not be driven from your destined course
Relationships not meant to be, end in divorce

When you find your one and only, split apart
Put old wounds aside to make a fresh start
Offer up undying love and trust with all your soul
Two halves of a single heart will become one whole

 

Writers Blockmatur

(Simple Rhyme)

Tick tock, hands move round the clock

But nothing makes it to the paper.

An hour’s passed. The plot’s a crock.

There is no real mystery to this caper.

 

 

When creativity fails, institute a drill,

On note cards, write a good location.

It’s said London England’s quite a thrill,

For a man of the detective’s vocation.

 

The genre and scene are set,

But there is still so much to do.

Characters are the biggest asset,

So write the hero on card two.

 

Cards three through five will fill up fast,

As the minor players lay in wait

The opposition’s uncovered at last

And it’s time to decide their fate.

The Crow

(Quatrain)
 

)mat

A beauty, the phantom queen

flies the cloudless skies above.

She is the bringer of fertility

but very often not of love.

This godess bestows war and death

to all the people of her land.

While her warriors cut them down

one by one, bloody swords in hand.

The Irish fear this diety

for the Morrigan they all know.

She has come to impart upon them strife

in the form of the crow.

A work of the overly opinionated.mature

(Editiorial-ish)

Have you have ever attended the book signing of a newly published author of fiction? You may have noticed that the writer really savors the moment. They relish the notoriety, give thanks, and really seem to appreciate their fans, dolling out autograph after autograph with a smile plastered across their glowing face.

Once published some of these writers have a change in attitude, especially toward their fans. Not long ago they would have posted a character portrayal received from a fan on their refrigerator or taped it into a scrap book. They would have been ecstatic that someone out in the world loved their work as much as they did. But now the superior author takes an opposition to fan fiction, threatening high dollar lawsuits and forcing websites to close.

I personally do not understand the change of heart. Fan fiction is just that, a work written or drawn by a fan, their fan. Though they may change an aspect of a character the original author envisioned, the story is unique and separate from the original work.

Therefore certain rights should be attributed to the fan for his writing as long as the original author is given proper credit. Based on a novel by in large font across the bottom of their copy, seems more than sufficient. Why quell the aspirations of young writers, published authors are their inspiration and as such they have a responsibility.