Blondemoon

twisted little serpent telling me your lies hissing in my ear all the things I wanted to hear. deadly little spider spun me in your web so caught up was I didn't feel the bite until I was already dead. howling through the ether my spirit is unquiet deep well of rage uncovered lashing out with tooth and nail meaning of hate discovered.

Very sad and very poignant...it almost brings tears to my eyes.

I am the tanka. The attention of others Is unnerving, and Since I try not to draw it, I'm left alone. Which is good. What Poetry Form Are You? Hmmm... Heh...the fun of these is taking them again, and seeing what else you come up with.

hehe...again, another one where I started out thinking you meant one thing, and it turned out to be something else entirely. I like how you started this off with a serious tone, even the words bowl and spoon didn't tip me off that this was actually about cereal. Just a couple spelling errors that need fixed (yes, I'm a closet spelling freak ).

I'm going the route of most of the others, and flat out refusing to vote on this. I believe this has been said before, but it is also my own personal belief that debates can start out all good and well, but can also lead to allllll sorts of trouble and hard feelings between people that ordinarily get along just fine. Just my two cents.

Oh wow...*blushes bright red, stammers a bit, and trips over stuff as she goes to find a dark corner to hide in until her face goes back to it's normal color* (Thanks! And congrats to everyone else too! (even mentioned that in my blog ))

Yeah, the structure is pretty awkward...probably why I thought it was so choppy. If I could get the stupid printer to work, I'd print it out, and try and work on it that way.

LOL! but they were harpies! I swear!! anyone who has worked in retail and lived through a senior citizen day probably can agree. And they honestly did say that...even though most of them were nice. aside from the ones who got mad when my register locked up...or when somebody forgot she wanted a carton of cigs, then had to write a new check (that was the "c'mon already" lady). I got all sorts of dirty looks.

Well, here is the other old poem that I promised to post two days ago. Yeah, I'm a procrastinator. Again, this is typed the way it was written. Less than five months to go, and I wonder what it'll be like. Not to see my friends everyday, and not to laugh at them or with them when they do something stupid. I don't want high school to end, now that we're so close. A little piece of me dies every day graduation comes closer. I've become more prone to tears, thinking back to times both good and bad, when we were so supportive of one another. We've all grown close, and in our last months together, I want to see them everyday and share with them special moments of laughter and tears. I don't want it to end... so I cry. 1-25-98 And holy crap that sucked. Hmmm...might have to try for a rewrite, if possible. On a side note, I still have almost all of the friends that the poem is about, even though we're not as close as we all were. Life will do that. <_<

Yeah, the yellow-green pus was kinda too vivid. Even I was cringing when I was typing that out. And this one, well, it's not an old one, and it's not depressing either. I wrote it at work. Figured I might as well post it in here. down upon me like the Harpies they swoop each one screaming "I want my discount!" with foul teeth and reeking of urine they storm down one after another a continuous stream, the very picture of impatience screeching "I want paper!" and god forbid you don't more fast enough "c'mon already!" they cry human vultures every one and why? it's senior citizen Tuesday. And believe me, it was hellish.

hmm...I've read the Belgariad too (something else that a certain person proved useful for). Very dark...it reminds me a lot of Edgar Allan Poe for some reason.

Heh, Wren, I'll have to agree with you. That's how I do most of my work, is put is all in notepad, then copy paste. Unless I really need to get it out now, and I'm nowhere near the computer, then it's pen and paper.

Ok, as I was getting ready for work, with water heating for a cup of tea, I suddenly decided that I was going to post some of my older work. Well, I've got two to post, but one will just have to wait until later, since I've only got time to post one. So here I sit, in my ugly ugly work shirt, drinking my tea, and waiting for my car to warm up. I'll type this as it was originally written, with the exception of grammatical and spelling errors. Untitled In and out, In and out, Such is the way I fade. Moments of brilliance, prelude to dark. Fading, fading, fading, Lifes blood flows from my wounds. Wounds of bitterness, wounds of hate. Wounds well concealed, oozing. Yellow-green pus streams from my wounds, yet no one sees. Too well hidden am I. H.M. 2-3-1998

Ok, I can't honestly say that I could identify with any of the characters in the book, or even that the book helped influence my life, cause it was the movie that did that, but I will have to say Jaws by Peter Benchley at the risk of having rotten fruit and vegetables thrown at me. I'm probably more aware than anyone of the very very bad image that both the book and movie gave to sharks...anyone who's talked to me long enough sorta knows that. (*cough*Peredhil*cough* ) But, even watching the movie as a little kid, long before I discovered the "adult" section of the library (probably long before I should have), influenced me. From nightmares that Jaws was hiding underneath my bed waiting to eat me, to me eagerly devouring every book I could find on the subject...well, I think you get the picture. And if you've ever read the book, you know they changed the ending for the movie. Made a better ending that way though. *steps down off her fanatical soapbox*

Ok, just finished writing this one about two minutes ago. It's been kicking around in my head for about a week and a half, but I just now forced it out. The thought of "the old me", the one that wouldn't have taken all that crap, was brought to mind by a conversation I had with a friend. She wondered where that old me had gone. It's choppy, and needs work, but I'll go ahead and post it now anyway, before I forget about it. I can feel it remnants of the old me pushing upwards; half-buried anger resonates from deep within feelings I don't want to surface to be left in peace, to have time to heal, this is all I ask so the me that was stays in her cage. the one who wouldn't have taken all that from anyone let alone a man like that. locked in her cage she stays, until I can heal. so be it. pushing upwards, heaving and sweating, she lets herself be known, after being forgotten. she stays in her cage, for time to heal will not happen with the trouble she'll bring.

Heh...I originally thought it was about one thing, but then the last few lines just changed that entirely. I like this!

Feeling like that...is not a fun ride. *expresses full agreement with Zariah* It was very hard to imagine that people like that exist, even harder to imagine that you would be the one to be unlucky enough to befriend one, love one, be crushed by one. As you said, you know exactly the feeling. Not something I'd wish on anyone...even the person the poem was about. God forbid he EVER have to go through what he put me through....even though at the same time, a part of me does kinda wish it on him...so he'd know. *sigh* If the words that Peredhil spoke are true, that we all flirt with evil, then I know I am guilty of it, as there is that part of me, the part that got buried underneath all the lies, all the crap, the part that I can feel is really pissed off at being buried, that would love nothing more than to see him suffer the way that I did. To be put through all the crap that I was put through. Before I start rambling, the comments you made were in fact, very relevant, Zariah. The poem was created out of a situation that was personal, and the nice emotional and still very pregnant thundercloud that surrounds it. <_<

LOL @ Zool! Hmm...read so many books, I wouldn't know where to start. I'll have to think about it.

Like what Arch said, it makes me think of a serial killer...only a specific one, cause I don't think his victims made a sound. Jack the Ripper. *shudders* Very good, and very creepy Gwai.

Yes, Happy Birthday to both! And Zool, do you have any idea how hard it is not to sit and laugh really loud at that...in a library?

Ye gods this is good Rune. *huggles* Peredhil is right, it's very good at conveying the emotions and feelings behind it, even if the person reading hasn't experienced them themselves. So true...

Ok, this I tried, key word being tried, to write while I was at work, even while the van I was in managed to hit every pothole the driver could find. And writing while driving...nearly impossible. (so it trying to drive and cry at the same time. Meh.) Subsequently, it's probably pretty choppy, since I kept losing my train of thought. <_< it must be nice to have the ability to hurt and make cry those who loved you without batting an eye. how could you do those things that you did? hurt and harm those that would have done anything for you without so much as a twinge? how does it feel to know what harm you've wrought? do you feel guilt? that I doubt. how could you use the ones who were nothing but friends to you, who were always there when you needed them, and not even blink? How How How? and more importantly Why? does it please you somehow to know that tears are shed because of you? souls are shattered because of you? all this pain is because of you? does it give you pleasure to imagine one girl's anger giving way to a burst of violence and one girl grasping a blade with shaking hand?

wow...given recent RL experiences...this really really strikes me. kind of right there, right in the gut. I think this is an excellent piece.

I'm not sure which I like more either, the first version or the second. I'm leaning more towards the first though, because it was such a "gut post", as you put it...

email's good here..