Playground of Creativity

This is a song I wrote and it is acutally true. I would like to see what other people think... feedback and everything is welcomed. Just tell me what could be improved and so on. here it is in LJ cut.

 

 

( Obstacles )

Figured I would give pumping more life into this community a bit of a shot.

I've written a few stories, a few poems, made a few graphics, etc. in my "creations" journal at nodoubtjoe. Feel free to check it out, I would love feedback on all of it...well, not so much the poetry because it's pretty awful, but the stories and graphics and stuff!! That'd be great. :)

Thanks!

-Joe

Hey guys. elohvee suggested that I post my poem here for feedback, so I thought that I would share it with you.

( the virgins )

Hullo from your friendly neighborhood mod!

This community's been dead for a while, and today I woke up with the mind to try and set it back in motion. Haven't done that great a job of it since slayerlovex left it in my care, and I aim to change that. Or at least put forth an effort.

So! Today I revamped the Community Info and rules. Nothing too new, just reworded some things, and added a new rule or two, which no one here has broken (at least not lately), but I feel should be stated for any newcomers anyway.

Also, I've updated the journal layout. Hopefully we can get a custom layout up as soon as LJ decides to like us, but for now it looks okay. Another thing that's been added is a links list on the layout, including a link to my personal favorite image source, GettyImages.com, and to a writing prompts site, WakeUpWriting.com. If any of you have any ideas as to what else we might add to that list, please leave a comment and a link.

And, in conclusion, I offer up a bit of my own original fiction, a sort of "writing guide" told from the point of view of a thirty-something neurotic author. Hopefully at least mildly humorous.

( Living With a Neurotic Muse: the Confessions of an Even More Neurotic Author )

Con crit is welcome, though I don't object to compliments.

Kisses,

Candy M.

i stared at the girl
with the glassy eyes
who could not gaze
at cerulean skies
i stared at her face
then stared at the ground
and in her smile
relief, i found.
And all the while
there on the floor
i saw a horror
not there before
And thought the
scopeless explorer
more fortunate than me
for lacking the gift
of prophecy.

Let me indulge in this
moment
of pure bliss between us,
with our arms
around each other
almost like
nothing has changed,
But broken pieces of
my heart
are lying, scattered
in your hands
you handle them
so carelessly
and i wanna fall apart
in your arms
i wanna cry on your
shoulder
and i want to tell
you my secrets
but i'll never trust
you again

elaborate entropic elation, as if
the tyranny of triangular thinking -
cosmetic capitalistic creation - could consume
envisioned eternal essences, or
things temporal.
exoskeletally engrained
residual remnants of realized reverance.
atypical art,
scratching scars - scalpel's stereopathy.

Hey, I'm new and I wanted to just post a poem I wrote a few weeks ago. I hope you like.


Beautiful nights, in ones bed;
fills the mind, with things you said.
Trust was given; but soon would be broken,
nothing more to you, than just a token.
Forget thy dreams, upon one's heart,
and see reality, that tore us apart.
Haunting smiles fill the mind,
slowly kills with passing time.
Speak no words; kiss no lips,
for all are false promises, which you give.

this is one of the dumbest poems i have ever written.. and yet.. no:

in between the pages of a disremembered book
compressed and well-preserved for recollection
a leaf - long removed from his deathbed by the brooke
realized his dreams of resurrection
he wandered in his memory, to the place where he was took
and visited his kin through his reflection
but ever since the fateful day he met the pruning hook
he had been saved through natural selection

The pit in my stomach became a wide open whole last night
the often blindness of my ego dawned on me through one bite
One unknown face through darkness came to me
Like nothing ever to the inside of me.
Biting off, one by one, the lining of former lives in my stomach


I'm beaten and scared by my own tragedy on repeat
Through makeshift relief and conscious defeat.
Why do i not undermine this event.
My eyes are shifted, moved and bent
Eating away at the brain holding the things that make me happy.