"Amphitrite"

Erosion,

slow stones set into motion

like marble under ocean.

I am buried.

Outstretched palm

solitude psalm

siren song unheard for so long.

Lost in mist,

lost at sea,

caverns shrouded in the mystery

of our creation.

Figured I'd post on here. Working progress!

So, I wrote a poem today, well the 2nd draft of a poem. And here it is:

Ocean can't take me away


The vastness of the beach
calls to me, draws my eyes
into the emptiness.
The ocean and the sky
all encompassing, holding
me in unyielding arms.

Overhead the birds
soar.
Wheeling and gliding
in the air.
Their dark bodied shapes
dance in the sky, as they
belong to both
but are committed to neither.

The drone of the waves
crash on the shore, blasting
sand, again and again, so
the matte dull grains shine
like gleaming crystalline.

In the distance thunder
grumbles low, my
trembling body vibrates,
It echoes through the sky
to reverb through my bones,
my chest.

The waves lick
my feet, they have an
insatiable hunger, yet
I do not succumb
to the teasing tongues.

I do not erode away
like the abrasive sand,
I stand,
firm, watching as
the birds do their dance.

Untitled

Untitled Poem


And as the dust descends
Covering my streets
Blanketing and smothering
like a gloved hand
chocking the life out of me
I see black, and red
and the lights glow
and float like ships,
lost at sea
Fading.
Gone.

Story Generator Game 1

I've been reading and reading and reading. Fiction mostly, but that's beside the point! I've been studying my writing book today to get back into the swing of things. Sharpen my tools before my course starts in Oct. And done my first story generator game. A game I plan on doing every week to keep my mind in gear.

I had to chose some random factors from a list and write a story, or story intro in 5 minutes. No editing, of course. The elements I got were drama, teacher, old woman, curiosity and New York.

Here it is:

Ida was an old lady now, but years ago, Oh! Years ago she had been young, beautiful and most of all curious, but it was that curiosity that led her into the worst situation of her life. Looking back now, from her rocker on the front stoop of her Alabama country home she smiled. She had lived through it - and some, but the night her dance teacher had attacked her in her New York school had been one of the most terrifying nights of her life. Julia was the tip-top, the very best dancer at St. Augustine's dance academy, but she was bitter and violent. An alcoholic and furious with the lot she'd been given she took her anger out on her best student, and Ida still bore the scars of the event like a medal.


I'm obviously not liking it so much, but I wrote as much as I could in 5 minutes.
If I had to edit it I would take out the obvious pointing out of the characters curiosity, as I don't manage to show any evidence of this in the blurb, so I could have worked it in some other way. I also think the dance teacher thing is a little cliche, but again, you write what you write and frown after!

Welcome Post

Hi there. If you have stumbled over here, Welcome. I'm going to be using this blogging space as a place to practise my writing skeeels. Not that I have writing skeeels, or should ever use the word 'skeeeels' again. But Anyway, here it is! I have a couple of new books to help me on my creative writing journey - and I'll be blogging my 'lessons' here. In various shapes and forms. So if you like creative writing blogs, or want to see what the hell I'm talking about, please feel free to follow. The worst thing that can happen is I actually blog here! Anywho, thanks for dropping by! Sam