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Author Topic: The Creative Writing Thread  (Read 17245 times)

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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #60 on: January 30, 2013, 12:27:13 PM »
Lessons of Love
(written by: shadowsoul)
March 08th, 2011

Slow, persistent pushing against mineself,
oh certainly the clanging links of change showed no weak link.
ringing and voices in my head met, by me, with an abundance of tart;
hysteria boiled up inside upon realizing i could not rid myself of that chain
(with its anchor firmly embedded; half in my dreams, half in my heart).

Could I prize myself from being so deaf upon these ears?
Throughout the first half extrication of it would not walk through my door,
but merely flash before my eye's within the distant figures i physically and eagerly shook hands with.
Each, obviously, a representation:
Roots were but a duty to transcend and so was friendship, really.
The anchor, tore into both as it was; no wonder i could not find strength to release!
So virulent seemed my dream to my heart;
desolution creeped in once i came to understand they were to each other.

I learned that’s what happens when the sail hands hold when there's release; something somewhere breaks.
Disrespect of the wind yields only perpetual hardships; come now, how else would those flags of yours be flying!?
Against each other those changing links tore, broke and clattered away, taking with it wood and railing.
This is what happens when a team has different horizons marked and compassed upon the map.

Change, wise and unyielding, walked with a slow clunk, clunk, clunk into the room and set it all too sombre.
Sitting in my drifting, damaged vessel i watched the sky sail the clouds on by.
Closed eye's and prayers with a whole lot of spite against the damage held me through.
Repair was made in a dramatic and most honestly-heartfelt manner;
Never again, i swore, to push against myself; this i would never do!

Up to the dock i had marked and compassed,
I walked across the planks to the fields of fruit yielding labour;
My dream of a garden where there would be time for growing, nurturing and feast.
Dirty nails, aching back and a freedom i couldn’t seem to immediately place.
In either loneliness or control, all I knew was that I could not grow the whole garden alone.

After sometime, and some vegetation had grown from my labours,
The finest maiden walked along my fence.
Answering to my request and joining me in the garden.
A glimmer in my eye's she said showed her something she'd been needing...
The experience of pushing against oneself and the lesson;
When you sail for your dreams, while your love sails for theirs
and yet you share the same vessel and refuse to accept this,
will you eventually be torn apart with damage left.
So choose and accept; never push against yourself.
What we saw we shared from it was a resolve to never repeat.
She had been dreaming of building the same garden as I

Now, under the colours of sky and sun we work together,
Merrily aiding and letting-to-be each other as is needed.
Teaching and feeding each other the fruits of our labour,
Truly now our freedom is one of peace and promise.
Being fully prized from deafness finally,
I realize from where the ringing and voices were coming; They were a warning!
It was the groan of the wood under the pressure; the knocking of the chain before breaking.

Seeming influence: E. E. Cummings, sex and romantic element, Keats-ish pretence, Endymion aura, could use some more imagery. Paraphrased in the second stanza: Nice work! Seems somewhat of a pre-Vonnegut and post Huxley metaphor. Also a hint of Pink Floyd (you have a taste for swinging imagery and onomaetopia, great!). At least that's what I felt while reading it. It also draws an influence from the number of versions of Knockin on Heaven's door too, right? Anyway, also, the romanticism involved: is it Byronic? Because I'm having a quite "Lord Ullin's" feel.
« Last Edit: January 30, 2013, 12:48:36 PM by NeetziD »
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

abaraxas

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #61 on: February 05, 2013, 02:21:08 PM »
tip the bottle
wake up on the floor
the urge is ever present
stepping out of my dungarees
racing against time
fumblng for the light
fumbling for the seat cover
pissing like a racehorse
urine sprays the rim and floor
burning ever burning in my cock
my eyes water
eyes open
peel back my foreskin
head swimming
little pink mushrooms inside my urethra
genital wart blues again
Humanary Stew

abaraxas

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #62 on: February 19, 2013, 02:30:32 PM »
lick a dick
lick my dick
suck my fuck
chew my poo
grinding my teeth
grinding yer schmoo
beef curtains so sloppy
slop slop slop
throbbing member
veins bulge in your forehead
chemical marriage
weve bin drinking 4 daze
oodles of Os
taste of your sweat
get on get off
punching your head
splash


Humanary Stew

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #63 on: March 27, 2013, 12:41:54 PM »
I remember a poetry thread of beauty.

The hunt... :ninja:
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Obvious Troll Obvious

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #64 on: March 28, 2013, 04:55:49 PM »
I remember a poetry thread of beauty.

The hunt... :ninja:

the hunter licks balls
and covers the walls
with cum
the hunter...
Is Trixi still alive?

NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #65 on: March 31, 2013, 12:30:55 PM »
One day, my dear
I'll respond to your fears
But till that day,
Let me rest.
Don't wake me,
'tis a forbidden fest
and a shower of quaint notions
(almost tranquil, or so it seems?)
as I'm drained out of emotion.

I found a smile come on my face
forcing its shape as my cheek tickle forces me
to pave way, for what you might see
(and find) hint of something special.
And that weird color in my eyes,
that I didn't know existed but brown...
How do you light it?
Is it a new spell, only you can cast?

Sure, the rhyming scale isn't rhythmic
But isn't poetic language of the lunatic?
Ay, the demand of the scale stretches
beyond the reach of my limited vocabulary.

In regular terms, in your eyes I see truth.
And in your arms, I will find salvation.
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #66 on: March 31, 2013, 12:38:34 PM »
I love it :mwa

the hunter licks balls
and covers the walls
with cum
the hunter...

 :bow: I think I'll try to dig out the old thread at some point :ninja:
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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #67 on: March 31, 2013, 12:40:06 PM »
Thanks. :?:
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #68 on: March 31, 2013, 12:43:24 PM »
You're welcome, it was beautiful my darling  :mwa
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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #69 on: March 31, 2013, 12:45:30 PM »
Aww! Kurt, you make me blush. :shy:
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #70 on: March 31, 2013, 12:46:51 PM »
You're cute when you blush ;)
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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #71 on: March 31, 2013, 12:48:44 PM »
:giggle: why do we keep getting it out of our pms?
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #72 on: March 31, 2013, 12:51:49 PM »
Oops :ninja:
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NeetziD

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #73 on: March 31, 2013, 12:58:56 PM »
It's okay, ninja. I'm sure we're not caught. ;)
Freud was confused at the time. The Y chromosome is an X with one of it's legs chopped of. What he meant was "males are genetically castrated women."

RoseHudson

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Re: The Creative Writing Thread
« Reply #74 on: March 31, 2013, 01:01:01 PM »
Not this time ;)
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