Friday, November 25, 2011

Mindscape's Birthday

Whoa. Wait a sec. It's November 25th today.....
I just realized this blog has just reached its 1st birthday yesterday.
It seemed only a short while ago that I started!
So yeah.

To all my beloved readers,
Your support has kept me going for this whole time.
When I had all those times where I had nothing to write, knowing someone is reading my stuff is awesome.
Even if some of that stuff isn't my best work.
I really hope you'll continue to read my stuff.
It makes me feel good to get some of my stuff out into the world. And to get some feedback. It really helps in my times of troubles.

I'm feeling too moved right now to write a poem.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Darkness Inside

The darkness inside 
is hidden by the light, 
a caged beast that has fallen asleep 
with boredom. 

Everything is normal. 

But sometimes, 
I let the beast out 
and let it unleash its claws 
and bare its teeth. 
I can feel its hunger resonate inside me, 
so hungry for destruction 
and despair. 
The veil of light 
slip away... 
I don't stop it. 

Havoc is wrecked.

When the beast is sated, 
it stretches and cleans its fur, 
wiping away the blood and gore 
that has collected on the teeth and claws. 
It slinks back away inside 
and I shut the door, 
barricading it in 
until the beast become restless 
once again. 

My stories and poems can be very dark. People dying, having tortured lives, traumatized, brutally murdered, killing in cold blood, revenge... you get the gist. Now if you were to see me, you'd probably think I'm the cheerful, smart who has no evil inside. But the darkness just doesn't come out to play very often on the outside, unless I totally snap. I, instead, let it wreck some havoc in my fictional world. Be warned when you read my stories....

Monday, November 14, 2011

Waiting For The End (A response to the song by Linkin Park)

Waiting for the end to comeWishing I had strength to standMy knees buckle and shake beneath me, and I wish I never started to begin with.
This is not what I had plannedIt's out of my control....
The fire has gone wild, and as I stand in the middle of the blaze razing everything that stood between us to the ground.
What was left when that fire was gone?Only ashes and regret as I shift through the char, holding the burnt match in both hands.
I thought it felt right but that right was wrongDoing this all for the two of us, I thought we were saved when I destroyed it all.
All caught up in the eye of the stormAnd trying to figure out what it's like moving onThings toil around the two of us, a false sense of calm inside my soul, 
 perhaps if we 
moved on from the past we can save whatever's left.
And I don't even know what kind of things I've saidMy mouth kept moving and my mind went deadMy voice and shouting set off this madness, I wish I could take back my hurtful words that I didn't realize I was saying until it was too late.
So, picking up the pieces, now where to begin?The hardest part of ending is starting again!

All italicized words are from the song "Waiting For The End" by Linkin Park. One of my fave songs! I always wanted to try writing a response to the lyrics, as the lyrics are really powerful. They're not in order here, but I chose some of my favourite stanzas. There's nothing personal this time. At least not currently.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Remembrance Day (In response to "In Flanders Fields)

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

Poppies grow, 
red with the blood spilt 
upon the land, 
each representing a different soul.

The birds still sing to this day 
their praises and songs for the souls above, 
perhaps remembering the day 
the guns fell silent 
and they could once more be heard.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

We are the Living. 
Today we stand and remember those who 
made the ultimate sacrifice 
and those who continue to fight for our country 
and what they believe in. 
We see the sunrise and fall, 
we love and most of all 

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The torch is heavy, 
yet we hold it high above our heads 
and pledge on our hearts 
that we'll never forget 
those who are dead 
or fighting 
for us, 
so they may forever sleep 
in peace 
in Flanders fields.

All writing in italics is from the original poem "In Flanders Fields" by John McCrae

The rest was done by me.

Lest We Forget