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Now accepting 400-800 word short stories, free form poetry, and black and white photography for our upcoming issues! Please visit asidmagazine.com! |
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LiveJournal for Feedback for Aspiring Young Writers.
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| Saturday, September 2nd, 2006 |
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Now accepting 400-800 word short stories, free form poetry, and black and white photography for our upcoming issues! Please visit asidmagazine.com! |
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| Friday, August 4th, 2006 |
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Come check it out at www.asidmagazine.com! ~ |
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| Tuesday, July 18th, 2006 |
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| Monday, June 5th, 2006 |
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Hello there, I would like to make notice of a new writing community me and my friends are in the process of creating at paper_Identity with dozens of writing options and guarenteed literary feedback from the Mods. So feel free to join :) http://community.livejournal.com/xpaper_identity/profile |
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| Sunday, May 21st, 2006 |
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Hey everyone. I'm new at lj, but not new to writing. I've been at in since I was twelve and kept writing since. I have a pretty large collection of both poetry and prose; this is only one of them. Enjoy. |
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| Friday, April 21st, 2006 |
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| I'm new to this Live Journal stuff, but recently a few friends convinced me that my own personal journals were worth reading and possible publishing, so I'm transcribing them onto the net here at LJ. I'd like feedback and comments and things like that as much as possible. But please be kind and keep in mind that I am properly dating them to when they were written. I started them at 13, so don't judge them by an adults standards. They grew with me. You'll see the growth, I swear, it's slow, but it's there. please, any and all comments welcome, unnecessary flames will of course be deleted. | ||||||||
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| Thursday, March 30th, 2006 |
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Another poem, called 'Butterfly Wings'. Not entirely happy with this one. Um, what more can I say? It's a poem about wasting a day. A month. A life. Butterfly Wings I swim through the summer days with a long, lazy breastroke Floating a while on my back to make room for a dream or two Whispering secrets to a sun that lies in the sky above A sun that touches my face with it’s long fingers of light. I smoke this cigarette like it’s packed with thoughts and feelings and memories And breathe empty messages onto the street for the passing crowd Drinking coffee to make the minutes turn into hours Searching for meaning in a scatter of empty cafés. I scrawl empty words onto empty pages as a tired song plays on Filling book after book with made-up memories and unfulfilled months Stopping every few moments to ask a question that’s never answered And to gaze into a weary sky whose promise never grows old. And then I sink beneath the surface to hide out for a while I crawl beneath the undergrowth to breathe to think to breathe And then I re-emerge to trek the endless river flows To touch hands with the sun once more, to touch hands with the sun. |
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| Friday, February 10th, 2006 |
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Hi I'm new to this community too! This is a pretty short piece I wrote. It's about the point in my last relationship when I knew it was over. Feedback would be GREAT! Kuletos (An ode to grimy sunsets) Because I dream of night in an empty cocktail bar Where the clouds fold over against the grimy sky And the roads glisten with illusion. Where your eyes alone speak their truth to me And the sound of rain hides the beat of my pulse As the barman stares intently across the candlelit tables. This is my recurring dream. Where my mind is spirited down a river of thought Driftwood lost in a mess of rapids A cocktail of milk, chocolate liqueur and heartache. Where the only thing left to speak of Are the photographs of old Helsinki Empty promises, weary dreams and sun-bleached memories. This is my recurring dream. And when the night is finally at its end And the clouds wash clear of the sky When the glass lies empty on the darkened table. When it’s time to leave and stalk the sullen streets And clench my beliefs away in my pocket And dream of night in an empty cocktail bar. This is my recurring dream. |
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| Tuesday, December 6th, 2005 |
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I have much longer, more comprehensive peices I am working on, but for now, here's a dorky little thing I just wrote. Critiques highly welcomed! x-posted to several communities. Adam by TC His name is Adam, the original man. I finally experience what it means to be an alter to the Goddess, a drop of yin, a part of the feminine aspect of the All by any other name, through loving a man called "girly" and "gay" to match every time I've been called "boyish" and "butch," and so ironically, archtypically named. He is me but the opposite of me, myself reversed in the mirror. Though given all the opposite things to work with we ended up in the same place, facing, contemplating each other through the looking glass. And I am fascinated. I adore him. I want to sink myself in sensory experience, to taste the color and breathe to the rhythm of him. I want to drink him up, his being, his is-ness, the blue mixed with the green of his eyes, the gentle concern mixed with the bold aspiration of his spirit. I want to kiss him until I drown in the pitter-patter flow of his thoughts, to learn the code for communication so thoroughly we sing into each other with the electricity through the contact points at each fingertip. I want to wrap myself up in the safeness of his presence like a blanket, then shake him back out into Adam-shape for me to hold. I dream not of being one with him, but separate and wrapped around each other savoring the touch of harmonic tones. I need to be me to run my palms over his strong arms, to kiss every freckle on his shoulders and nose. I want to trace the curve of his pouty lower lip and bury my fingers in his thick brown hair. I want to sketch the ripples of his broad, wiry back in space, bury my face in the musky, sexual smell of where he and I blend, and lick the sweat off the pale skin along his hipbone, narrow and jutting out in that delightful way boy hips do. I want to know him that I might know me, that in discovery of each other we might reveal ourselves. I am fascinated, enamored; and I don't want to waste a drop. Adam. The name of a million others, and the name of mine alone. |
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| Tuesday, August 16th, 2005 |
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Publish-This.com is an interactive website with the goal of giving Authors the opportunity to get their work in front of the people that matter. Our website has undergone some vital changes to bring you a free, efficient and more personalised service. Authors are able to submit their work quickly and easily, whilst Publishers and Agents are able to browse these submissions with equal ease in their hunt for new talent. How Our Site Works: in a Nutshell You, the author, sign up for a free account. You are able to submit your work. Once you have filled out the submission form, your submission will be listed under New Titles and will be available for publishers and agents to browse. You may also submit your work specifically to a number of featured publishers and agents that wish to receive email. There is information available on these publishers and agents, allowing you to know what they are looking for and increase your chances of success. And we look forward to seeing you succeed. For more information visit us at www.publish-this.com or contact us at info@publish-this.com |
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| Monday, August 15th, 2005 |
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 +A Poetry Rating Community. -Jazzy |
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| Sunday, July 10th, 2005 |
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hey, i'm new. my name is colleen, this looks like an amazing community. here.. is.. something... |
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| Friday, June 10th, 2005 |
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these are some old and new poems. i've never shown them to anyone before |
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| Monday, May 16th, 2005 |
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Once, when no one was looking… I danced a wild dance, I was happy, I was free, I shouted out a song that was only heard by me; I stared into a prickle bush, to see what I could see, I ran around in circles on my tiptoes – crazy me. :) |
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| Thursday, May 12th, 2005 |
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Everything that you made come alive in me Has fallen asleep again And I can no longer convince myself that I am okay Because I am not okay. And though I want you to be happy Part of me wishes I wasn’t so understanding And that I knew how to say what I wanted Instead of letting everyone else make the decisions about my feelings for me. There’s nothing I want do to change anything I just wish I could go back. And erase everything that happened So I won’t have it in my memory. I guess it’s okay though I like my heart better when it’s sleeping Because then I can’t remember what it’s like To be awake. |
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| Wednesday, May 11th, 2005 |
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dig dig i've given you the shovel so dig to solve the puzzle because maybe someone else will recognize my fate someone else will see the problems made created each and every time i try to step across the line the line that my heart won't let me cross this accounts for my total loss you can't see until you've reached a certain level you can't ever understand 'cause even i am fighting with the rebel my own heart's rebelling against me more problems than the eyes can see no way that they could never be making my life so depressing this is a virus infecting every part of me everything i used to do fell apart when nobody could see not even i knew what went wrong i never knew it would last so long no one could see with their two eyes they had to see from deep inside their minds but if you go too far you won't want to go on the deeper you go the more the risk of losing yourself too i say this just because i know no matter which way you choose to go it's not that you'll move yourself too slow it's just that my heart is a black hole this is a virus infecting every part of me everything i used to do fell apart when nobody could see not even i knew what went wrong i never knew it would last so long no one could see with their two eyes they had to see from deep inside their minds were the signs too complicated for you or were you not listening just like i had told you that you'd do you didn't believe me at the time once again i had crossed the line you were too shocked with its sublime i told you that i would not be fine but you thought i was exaggerating wrote me off as typical cliché i am nothing like it excuse me miss i'll tell you once again this is not exaggerating this is not out of proportion what i tell you is what it is so why so why don't you get it the signs were probably too deep now i have brought myself to weep again i cry on the inside but not before it tells a lie the lie is that everything's alright you wouldn't even put up a fight 'cause your human reflex tells you to you'll never go farther than what you care to see with your own two eyes and if you do, beware 'cause a sickness comes out in the night... |
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the shortest poem I think I've ever written in my entire life. a year after death In a photograph not quite misplaced Lies a memory not quite displaced And a smile that's not quite replaced. |
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| Tuesday, May 10th, 2005 |
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Write. It's what I do in the middle of the night. In the middle of the night When everything is still, I curl up with my blanket Pick up my forgotten quill, Collect my scattered memories Ink I freely spill Then I fall asleep exhausted To sleep and dream my fill. |
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| Monday, May 9th, 2005 |
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a song..not the best in the world, but it was around 2 in the morning when i wrote it..so i can't complain too much :) ( i am alone...Collapse ) |
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| Sunday, May 8th, 2005 |
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To my mum. I really don’t know how she puts up with me. I’d die if I had to raise a teenager like myself… Dear mom, I thought I had a thousand words to say That somehow would convey how much you mean to me, But I can’t remember a single one. I thought I’d show you in a million different ways That everything you try to teach me has sunk in…(at least a little) But it’s past midnight already, and still haven’t done a single one. I had grand plans But they didn’t amount to anything, Because they only would have lasted for a moment And my heart wasn’t in them. I know we don’t agree on a lot of things (okay, almost everything) But all of my independence and fire, I got from you. Every once in a while I catch myself Saying something that you would say, Or doing something that you would do And then I try to convince myself that it’s a bad thing To be just like you. But it’s really not a bad thing at all Because I already am you. Opinions don’t really matter, it’s what lies underneath the skin That makes a person big or small, depending On the size of his heart. I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m sorry For everything I’ve done or said or been I’m not going to promise something That I might break. There’s nothing I can tell you that will make it all right Save this one thing: I love you. |
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| Tuesday, May 3rd, 2005 |
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an ode to a pen, per request of  blearyeyedme ;) ( Ode to a penCollapse ) |
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| Friday, April 29th, 2005 |
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I've just decided to try and write poems based on random feelings, objects, or anything at all...which is probably going to result in a lot of crap poetry, but it's just for practice! :) so, here is my first, about a sunday afternoon. ( A Sunday AfternoonCollapse ) |
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| Thursday, April 28th, 2005 |
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I'm feeling especially random today, so i decided to write a poem about a random object, and the object i decided on was...my SHOE! ;) ( Ode to a shoeCollapse ) |
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go ahead tell me you don't need me you're still too damn blind to see me i told you that you'd never believe me step into my life and be me but you can't you'd be frightened all that i put up with too scared to be enlightened too scared to see who i am scared of what you're hearing you'd be petrified 'til the end here we go again how many times how many times 'til you get it how many weeks how many years 'til you get it you're just so oblivious maybe you can't help it you've become like the rest of the world and i'm still here doesn't this sound like every other thing that i've written how many times will i have to say it before you understand i don't know why i do it cause nowadays it serves me no point it's just getting worse my life is always bending like a joint how many times how many times 'til you get it how many weeks how many years 'til you get it you're just so oblivious maybe you can't help it you've become like the rest of the world but i'm always here i don't know why i do it it's the same all the time it just keeps getting worse and nobody cares to hear it i've lost the motivation to write and to live so this will be the last until the very end i have nothing more to do but die this life serves no purpose but to die i should be doing His work or should i die i'm not doing anything this means i die what have i done to keep myself here what have i done to make it right what have i done for God himself what have i done for the world tonight i see it rotting and yet i do nothing i see it crumble and i sit and observe i see the people who ruin the world now i see the people and all i do is die a part of me is gone a part of me is gone why not take the rest of me a part of me is gone forever i have lost it i have lost it i have lost it i have lost it but i cannot figure out what what it was but i have lost it i need to figure out before the rest of me dies i need to figure out before the rest of me dies i need to figure out before the rest of me dies before the rest of me dies this is goodbye this is goodbye first this part of me then the rest of me goodbye all of you will never have known me until i die you never bothered to see within and you can't when i die but you couldn't when i lived it was too deep for you to go i told you this i told you this and nothing i wanted to show ever came out ever came out ever came out ever came out this is farewell at least this part of me but i get the feeling that the rest is going too the rest is going too and if it must and if it must know that you never cared for me for me for me it was just too deep for anyone to see this wasn't your fault but i never but i never chose to be this way it's how i was it's how i was i couldn't change i couldn't change i don't think anyone could ever get so deep so in that respect i was all alone every level of my soul alone no matter how deep it got alone even in the shallow i was alone but will i be will i be now where i am or where i'm going i still don't know i still don't know and i won't until the rest of me dies and when it does... i'm sorry |
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| Tuesday, April 26th, 2005 |
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Worthless I'm worthless, like an empty bag I lost you, you were in my arms I tried my best to be the best, Alas, I'm but a piece of dirt, |
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The fleeting image outlined in coal, The passing glimpse of a haunted soul; The fatal spark of a man not free The dull silence, of a breath not breathed. |
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| Friday, April 15th, 2005 |
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And when the tale is heard And the echo fades away, In memory it is burned For eons, there to stay. To ever produce a crimson tear It has life that yet goes on, To ever bring forth it's crimson fear In the shadows of darkened song. |
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| Wednesday, April 13th, 2005 |
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Forbidden Dreams A dream is a mirror of our minds, If happiness is where we live If fury bubbles through our blood, If, alas, the future cries Yet sometimes, dreams are messengers Many a day we dread the hour You ask, how can it be so? Eventually you must accept |
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Watch me But don't single me out Or I will run away. Talk to me In whisper, never shout Or i will be afraid. Protect me But please don't tell me so Let me think myself i keep. Love me Never let me go But only tell me when i sleep.. |
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| Thursday, April 7th, 2005 |
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there. :) thank you to _open_eyes_ for giving me the idea to turn it into a song, which i just did! it desperately needs the tune to be complete (well..tune as in a bunch of super crunchy electric guitars) but i can't post a tune, so the words will just have to do. The Control of the Poison This poison seeping through my veins Does naught but remind me of this pain This shame. I cannot escape I cannot escape It takes me nowhere but I cannot leave Forever trapped in it’s filthy misery Let me be It won’t let me leave It won’t let me leave (chorus) I run away Only to return I’m falling deeper I never learn… I never learn. It torments me it controls my mind Peace and rest I cannot find Who am I. It’s making me so blind It’s making me so blind. Until I give cause I can’t take it I need it I hate it but I can no longer fake it I am here. Surrounded by this fear Surrounded by this fear. (chorus) I run away.. Only to return I’m falling deeper I never learn… I never learn I want to run away (I want to run away) But it makes me stay (but it makes me stay) I cannot get away (I can’t get away) Can’t somebody save me? (nobody can save me) ( nobody will save me..) (pause) Chorus-with background echo I run away (I run away) Only to return (only to return) I’m falling deeper (deeper) I never learn I never learn I run away (I run away) It makes me return (makes me return) I’m going under (under) I never learn, I never learn……… Oh I never learn.. |
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| Wednesday, April 6th, 2005 |
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People, join my Vampire forum!! Join, or be bitten! |
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| Tuesday, April 5th, 2005 |
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The control of the poison. This poison. Seeping through my veins Does naught But remind me of this pain. This shame. I cannot escape It takes me nowhere But I cannot leave. Forever trapped In it’s filthy misery. I run away Only to return. I’m falling deeper, I never learn. It torments me, It controls my mind. Peace and rest I cannot find. Until I give in, My body can’t take it. I need it. I hate it. But I can no longer fake it. ….and I have absolutely no idea why I just wrote that. I’ve never touched it, not in my whole life…although sometimes it seems that it would be so easy to just take it now, as a fix, a quick fix. But it doesn’t last, it won’t last..it will only leave me worse than when I started….and probably more alone than I ever was. |
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| Monday, April 4th, 2005 |
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This has a hidden meaning…I hope you can find it. “I walk a lonely road, on the boulevard of broken dreams….” This lonely road This empty street I am surrounded, submerged in people They swirl all around me They are all acutely aware of everyone else.. And yet completely oblivious (they don’t notice me) I talk to them I laugh with them (but they don’t notice me) We are great friends, them and I We know everything about each other They even know what my favorite kind of ice cream is (but they don’t notice me) I am surrounded, submerged in the crowd Going with them, being them (but they don’t notice me) I am here. They are here. We are all here together We belong to each other We are each other (but they don’t notice me….) another poem on the same line..sortof. I am all alone On this lonely road On this empty street Littered with the tatters And shreds of broken dreams Why am I surrounded And yet no one is there Why do I feel like screaming And still not want to share. (I am, all alone.) |
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| Sunday, April 3rd, 2005 |
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Heylo all!! I am new to this community. Here is a poem of mine to give y'all a flavour of my musings. The Only Deed That Makes Me Cry You can beat me, you can bite me, You can hurt me and betray me, I will please you, I will tease you, But please tell me that you love me, We were happy, we were perfect, And without you I am garbage, So come, make my life worth living, |
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| Saturday, April 2nd, 2005 |
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Dedicated to, and written for, one of my best friends What can I say when I feel nothing? No joy, no happiness, no pain. When everything is silent, not a sound pervades the dark. When my mind is as dense as mercury, and twice as poisonous. When I think, yet have no thoughts; when I sleep, and still get no rest. To cry and have no tears; to run – always run, and yet be falling; to dance while I am perfectly still. To smile, and yet somehow be frowning; to whisper, and yet be screaming. When I know, and yet know absolutely nothing; to live when I am dying, to laugh when I am crying; to act like everything everyone else thinks I should be, and hate it – hate it with my whole being, and yet to still continue……to be. with no reason or purpose, stuck in this place I created for myself. |
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| Thursday, March 31st, 2005 |
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I haven’t any idea why this popped into my head during the middle of english class, but I was reminded…it must have been 5 or 6 years ago by now. I didn’t even really know him…I guess his death affected me more than I know though, for it to pop out unawares 6 years later. Take this hollow shell I am, Bury me, I’ll return to sand. I have naught to do with love, or play; Dig my grave. There let me stay. Don’t drag me up, and make me breath; I want no life in memory. Now I am gone, my pain choked short. I cannot feel. Don’t grieve my abort. I care not for what you think, I stood an eternity upon the brink Waiting – waiting I was not pulled back. I fell. A rush. Then sight was black. |
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| Tuesday, March 29th, 2005 |
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hear the clink of the nails as they pierce his hands, as they beatup, hit, and harass this man. and still he stands. takin' the blows, he's the son of man. blood drips on the sand he's doin' it for this motherland. to give us a chance, to enter his daddy's glory. the agony he suffered, is now the greatest story. it was love that made him bleed and cling to a tree, it was love that's why he took the pain and agony, it was love that made him die so you and i could see, it's his love that lets us live eternally. |
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| Monday, March 28th, 2005 |
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heyo. i'm just a girl lol but your community sounds quite interesting, so i joined. we should get more people :) here's a poem to start it off: a rustle in the trees a raindrop in the wind a light that no one sees lead a shattered heart to mend... |
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LiveJournal for Feedback for Aspiring Young Writers.
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accomplished.
artistic.
contemplative.
cheerful.
exanimate.
crazy.
sleepy.
restless.
bouncy.
worried.
cranky.
loved.