Poetry

Behind Blue Eyes

I spent the years away from you, and you away from me

In places far and far away that you will never see

Blue eyes can be deceptively clear. They hide many things. They keep many things. And yet they are deceptively clear, and deceptively alluringly pure.

For the people who were mesmerized by blue eyes, to their uttermost regret.

Also found in allpoetry.com

Sweet Thirteen

"Beauty divine in the light of the sun.

Oh morning, sweet morning!

The quiver is singing

As the arrow makes its run."

A story about a mother who once was a girl. Past revelations break to the fore as she discovers, to her great sadness, that life's circle has taken hold of her, and now her mother's story, more than painfully familiar, turns into a bittersweet reality.

Also found in allpoetry.com.

Grey House Shell

Love is a wasteland, and I am now an empty shell.

What happens when you realize that the ties that bind are too late to severe? What becomes of the house of love when it is no longer filled with people in love? Who do you turn to at the end of your misery, when life seems a desert parched for emotions?

Also found in allpoetry.com.

Fanfiction

G.E.S.: A Writer's Journal

Fandom: Jules Verne's "The Mysterious Island"

Genre: General Fiction

Rating: PG

Brief Synopsis: From the pen of Gideon E. Spillet. Of the early days of five men (and a dog), who become the Colonists of Lincoln Island.

Further Notes: Erm, yeah. This was just a freak idea. Most surprisingly, it followed through, despite my fickle nature, and I though it wasn't that bad, so I put it up for the benefit of the public. (Natch.)

25th March 1860

night

Cyrus Harding is still missing. I refuse to believe that he has been swallowed whole by the ocean. There is great strength contained in those wiry limbs, and I know for a fact that he possesses an even greater, fiercer will. The sea cannot claim him, he shant allow it!

The Lady Sybil Ramkin

Fandom: Discworld

Genre: General Fiction

Rating: G

Brief Synopsis: Lady Sybil Ramkin does her usual routine at a social brunch. Maybe possible V/V, but only if you squint really hard.

She takes her tea with three lumps of sugar.

She counts her coins carefully before depositing them in her purse,

But wouldn’t bat an eyelash when she gives

A fistful of dollars to the beggar in the sidewalk.

She cares only for the comfort of clothes

And believes that a smile and a laugh never run out of fashion,

Which the love of dragons had patiently taught her.

Apples and Serpents

Fandom: Good Omens

Genre: General Fiction

Rating: PG only for slightly confusticated people. No animals were harmed in the making of this story.

Further Notes: This is partially inspired by a sudden bout of research-geekness on the relation of apples, snakes and the Creation Story of the Bible. Also inspired in part by all the wonderful people who’ve written so much fantastic GO stories that their influence remains lasting in the brain, and thus, it seems, impressed on the characters themselves for such stories as I could write for a good long time.

Brief Synopsis: It's a usual day after an almost-Apocalypse, and an Angel dreams.

The apple fell from the tree.

Perhaps The Sweetest Dream Is Over

Fandom: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Tim Burton adaptation, Warner Bros. 2005)

Genre: General Fiction, Drama

Rating: PG (for character death)

Brief Synopsis: Charlie Bucket is growing up, and he reflects upon the deaths of his grandparents. (Some spoilers for Roald Dahl's "Charlie and the Glass Elevator", but mostly draws inspiration from the Tim Burton movie.)

For a time, it seemed like the sweetest dream would go on forever. But reality took a bite out of life eventually, inevitably, and Charlie Bucket, once the boy who won the greatest chocolate factory in the world, was no longer a boy, but a growing young man.

Pieces of Jade

Fandom: Brokeback Mountain (2005 movie adaptation, directed by Ang Lee)

Genre: Angst, Drama

Rating: PG-15 (for language)

Brief Synopsis: Ennis del Mar attends his daughter's wedding, and finds himself remembering Jack Twist.

Pieces of jade in a summer-blue sky

Whistling a tune while the coyote cries

Both of us wading through rivers of lies

But only truth shines under the moon

Only truth shines under the moon

Hot-Smokin' Pen: Original Fiction

Unfinished Original Ficlet: Red Dusk

Genre: Sci-Fi

This is Helga of Squadron 4, and this is not my story. I say this not because I do not want to speak of myself. On the contrary, I can only tell you of what my eyes can see and ears can hear, of what my mind can think, of what my heart and soul can feel. However, I want to point out the importance of this message. I fear, no, I hope that these words will survive longer than myself, and I believe that it will be able to carry with it, along with my words, my spirit as well as my people's spirit. I realize this now, how it has to work this way, especially since, far ahead of me, but not so far at all, the end of time grows ever so dark and powerful. This record is much too valuable to waste on one life story. Rather, I wish it to be the story of my people, of my race, and of my world.

I have no history I wish for others to remember. The only history worth remembering are the lessons writ in blood, not in words. Nor do I have secrets I wish for others to keep in my stead; I am no officer that divulges information from the Ministry by sheer habit or malice. I am a simple warrior, and war has taught me, among many things, that only fools let deceit lead them to destruction. My voice is the voice of a soldier, and thus it comes from the collective soul of the people that stand tall with the flags of war. Hear me now, for I am a harpy of war, a harbinger of death, messenger of justice. My tongue knows only the truth.

There comes a time when war seizes its rightful throne from peace, and the spear's blade shall pierce the foe where words could not. Blood is only ever spilled for love, and corrupted by greed it turns to killing and to evil. But life in war is spent freely and willingly, and blood is never spilt for naught, but given to a cause. My cause is freedom, and I would give more than my blood and my flesh. I would give my spirit, my entire being, and this alone gives me the right to vanquish my enemies and purge the evils from our land. Oh wrathful gods of war, hear my battle cry. It is my prayer and my pledge, for love, for peace, and for the freedom of all this world...

The sister-moons Lucere and Belina awaken to the rosy skies of the middle year. Dusk comes in soft pinks and yellows, marred by the streaks of white heat off the rockets of the strato-cruisers. They streak across the horizon to the east, where night ripens like a purple bruise.

tbc?