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Author Topic: Grim Noire's Writing  (Read 8955 times)

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October 20, 2014, 02:08:47 AM
I guess I should stop making a new topic for every new thing I post  :lol:

Anyway, I'll post some random writings, probably most poems and VERY short stories here. As always I appreciate any and all feedback, even if it's just to confirm that you've read something. I like to know that I have some readers at least. :sblaugh:
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

October 20, 2014, 02:09:30 AM
Reply #1
A poem about a scenic location in Skyrim.

Reachwind Eyrie:

I see you there amidst the high and the green.
Green like glass and old death.
Green like algae on a secluded lake which much like you is lost to the world.
I see you like a finger amidst the outstretched shoulder of the Reach,
On this mount’s arm.
And the sun is behind you with the mist beneath and gods above.
Your former masters once deep below and now lost like a tavern dream.
Had you a path once?
From some hoary cove of brass or similar mouth of stone?
Now lost and no less lonely.
Or was yours the path of which all mountains deign to end?
The point that none may go higher.
‘Twas this manner that I found you.
And then I approach and gaze at your still form.
With your single arch that may have collared a golden road in brighter ages.
And even with your cut stone and arcane symmetry,
I can gaze at the surrounding rock and wonder which is older.
And I stride up your steps in rising circles,
Lights of gas and alien flames still reluctant to betray their dead.
And at your peak I am reminded of a world that exists beyond us.
With its similar lonely apexes of dream-lost make.
Then I hop down to a jutting stone that is not too far below.
Which some may say detracts from you.
But I think it a gentle mercy.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

October 20, 2014, 06:53:24 AM
Reply #2
Wow, that was really nice. I've never been a man of poetry, but I enjoyed that immensely.
---
I'd like to think I've got a good grip on reality.

Though I could be wrong.

October 25, 2014, 12:50:08 AM
Reply #3
A Dance in the Moonlight:

When no moons shine by hearth he hides,
The hours he’ll count as time he bides,
When one moon shines the hearth he leaves,
And on the hill a prayer he reads,
But when both shine he’ll weigh the odds,
Grabs sword from hearth to waltz with the gods.
« Last Edit: October 27, 2014, 08:28:38 PM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

October 25, 2014, 01:17:17 AM
Reply #4
If to steal a crown he should,
He must still build up a throne,
Be it hammer nails and wood,
Or sword spear blood and bone.

-Osterran proverb
« Last Edit: October 27, 2014, 08:28:26 PM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

October 26, 2014, 12:29:40 AM
Reply #5
...

Skip to 0:19 on this.

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y0qNNvVJPA" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y0qNNvVJPA</a>

TOO MANY FLUTTERSHYING CONS

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

October 26, 2014, 12:40:00 AM
Reply #6
...

Skip to 0:19 on this.

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y0qNNvVJPA" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y0qNNvVJPA</a>
Aww thank you! :)
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

November 11, 2014, 01:17:07 PM
Reply #7
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

November 18, 2014, 03:26:25 PM
Reply #8
Chance of Rain

    In the Summer of ‘59, I worked at a grocery about a mile and a half from my parents’ house. For the most part, nothing much of interest happened, which is exactly what you’d expect when you’re stuck behind a register for a few hours everyday.

The only thing out of the ordinary was a man named Joseph H. McDunnough who would stop by on a regular basis, always walking in - it never looked like he had a car - to buy a few things, give exact change, speak to no one, and then turn to leave the second the last penny would fall from his palm into mine. He was a twitchy sort of guy - not someone who you could actually see twitch but someone who looked like he was always right on the cusp of it. The way he walked, every step making a crisp snap on the floor, the cold hyperfocus in his eyes and the way they were opened just a millimeter too wide - it all suggested someone just at the edge of something. I don’t know what that something was, and maybe he didn’t either, but every move he made seemed like he’d calculated it on paper the night before, and whatever I saw him doing was just what he’d already planned, hoping that he could just go through the numbers without anyone getting in the way.

And he would always walk in with an umbrella, closing it up just as he’d enter in the door. The first few times, I’d stare out the window just to see if it was raining, and failing to see any sign of moisture would crank my head up to look for even the slightest discoloration in the clouds. Of course I never asked Mr. McDunnough about this; it didn’t seem smart, kind of like how you’re never supposed to wake a sleepwalker. I just always figured there was some reason behind it, and the only thing more crazy than seeing him with his dry umbrella would be finding out why.

There was never any pattern to Mr. McDunnough’s visits. A few times when I’d see him walk in, I’d kick myself for not tallying the times he’d show up on dry versus rainy days, thinking that there was at least one time when he’d actually have needed the umbrella. In my mind I could see it: the sky throwing down a torrent, and Mr. McDunnough walking in with a triumphant smile on his face, telling everyone that he was right one time for always being prepared for rain - either that or saying it in so many words with his eyes, each glance at me radioing into my soul. Sometimes I’d try to give him every benefit of the doubt, cataloguing reasons for bringing an umbrella with you on a sunny day. I thought once that a neighbor of his had a poorly set up sprinkler which warranted the use of an umbrella, or that he’d been splashed once by a truck hitting a puddle. Yet every time, my theories were smashed when I’d remember the fact that he would always close the umbrella right upon walking into the store, meaning he’d presumably have it out right up until reaching the threshold.

One day he walked in when it was actually raining. You could hear the thunder outside and see the glare on the window with every flash of lightning too. As the door opened, Mr. McDunnough walked in soaking wet, his shoes squeaking on the tile as rivulets of water dripped from every crease in his coat. He wasn’t dressed any differently - just no umbrella this time. It didn’t seem to phase him however, as he walked up and down the aisles taking maybe just a bit longer than usual before heading up to the counter.

I couldn’t stop myself and finally asked him what his deal was. I told him that I’d noticed him walking into the store every time with a dry umbrella on the clearest of days, and it was driving me up the wall in mystery. I probably stumbled over my words more than I would have liked to, but while I spoke, his watchful gaze didn’t as much as flutter; I bet he didn’t even blink. What he did do was put $3.25 on the counter and say in a calm but matter-of-fact voice,

“Yes, that’s right.”

Then pausing a moment, as if to allot me some time to make sense of it all. I then questioned him about why on this day, when it was actually raining, why he wouldn’t have his umbrella. Had he forgotten it? Lost it? Again he stared straight at me and said,

“In a storm? Do I look like I want to hold up a metal pole and get struck by lightning?”

He subsequently turned about-face and marched off out the door before I could even give him his 2 cents in change.
« Last Edit: November 18, 2014, 03:32:21 PM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

November 20, 2014, 02:50:31 AM
Reply #9
Ahahah, I liked your little story! I don't know a lot about english literature but I thought it was well-written, I was able to read easily so that's a plus!
I like that you still left a bit of mystery at the end; imagination is something I find important when reading.

I hope you'll post more little stories like this one!
[spoiler]
Red for the bloodshed and struggle for freedom.
Blue for the Indian Ocean, in the middle of which Mauritius is situated.
Yellow for the new light of independence shining over the island.
Green for its lush vegetation and its colour throughout the year.

November 20, 2014, 11:34:25 AM
Reply #10
Ahahah, I liked your little story! I don't know a lot about english literature but I thought it was well-written, I was able to read easily so that's a plus!
I like that you still left a bit of mystery at the end; imagination is something I find important when reading.

I hope you'll post more little stories like this one!

Thank you thank you! It means a lot to me that you read it! :ajtiphat

*biggest hugs*
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

November 20, 2014, 11:34:41 AM
Reply #11
Midnight at the Dome

The choice between happiness and answers,
Is a fork-tooth fate cutting truth and trust.
That to a learned man or fool who stammers,
Will fill a mind with poppy smoke or dust.

Should he stand beneath the Dome at midnight?
Or dance madly outside 'round the bonfire?
Seduced by triangles in the moonlight?
Or the cold from dark ages aspire?

We'll look back from the Center and admit,
That we were better as brainless masses
Where is our respite where is our respite?
In the fireplace among the ashes.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

December 06, 2014, 12:32:49 AM
Reply #12
A Voyage Out to Sea

And should I rise on falcon's wings,
To view the coast in Autumn fair.
    Would cast my weight of lesser things,
And sail through to Summer air.
    These rocks are old their voices faint,
To Atlantic broiling waves replied.
    And coated in their salty paint,
Await the coming of the tide.
    I cast beyond your sandy spell,
Upon the waters towered tall.
    My spirits sang and never fell,
To watch the ivory breakers fall.
    The cormorant does guide my way,
As storm choirs wail and wind applauds.
    And all above around me lays,
The cloud cathedrals of the gods.
    But soon the storm is weathered through,
And left am I on placid sea.
    That fills my eyes with pastel blue,
And finally free and finally free.
« Last Edit: December 06, 2014, 12:52:17 AM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

December 06, 2014, 04:06:52 AM
Reply #13
I just read it on Facebook, very nice!
Reminds me of home
:-X
[spoiler]
Red for the bloodshed and struggle for freedom.
Blue for the Indian Ocean, in the middle of which Mauritius is situated.
Yellow for the new light of independence shining over the island.
Green for its lush vegetation and its colour throughout the year.

December 06, 2014, 07:51:52 AM
Reply #14
To love another person is to see the face of God


December 06, 2014, 01:26:10 PM
Reply #15
I just read it on Facebook, very nice!
Reminds me of home
:-X

The ocean and beach are some of my favorite things. I really want to live by the coast someday. Thank you for reading too! I appreciate it so much. :)

So amazing.

You are really sweet! *hugs*
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 13, 2015, 05:32:13 PM
Reply #16
The Far Places:

Far from Heaven, Pit, and Aether,
Not dreaming, dead, nor nothing neither,
Aloft of limits beyond hither,
Whispers walk where voices wither,

Chase chimeras till they falter,
Follow rivers to their father,
Atop a tower 'fore a fane,
Within a land without a name,

Idol stars mine eyes enraptured,
Chimes of chains mine ears were captured,
By wordless songs of exultation,
Bores into the cerebration,

Wounds that barely break the skin,
But lacerate the mind within,
And newly cut, a path to enter,
To go and gaze back from the Center,

Ancient vistas doth envision,
Leisure strolls through grim Perdition,
In forest deep, unseen unmarred,
Past stony brook and dew slick sward,

Doth stick from earth a lore sick sliver,
As hoary moons cast down their silver,
Stretching eldritch truths arise
And wretching from the dread surmise,

Doth flee from implications racing,
Pray for memory effacing,
Climb the mountains, hide in starkness,
Hide from cosmic blinding darkness,

Curse this existential cruelty,
Wish for pure, sublime vacuity,
Cast the sword and don the mask,
And abdicate the seeker's task,

Drink until the mind is numb,
Quaff the gracious laudanum,
Shun the light's pansophic glare
Shun the time-lost places where,

Whispers walk where voices wither,
Aloft of limits beyond hither,
Not dreaming, dead, nor nothing neither,
Far from Heaven, Pit, and Aether.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 13, 2015, 07:42:20 PM
Reply #17
Oooh, another great poem :flufflehappy

TOO MANY FLUTTERSHYING CONS

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 13, 2015, 08:12:13 PM
Reply #18
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 15, 2015, 04:39:43 AM
Reply #19
Me like it, as usual!
Do you write everyday or just when you're feeling inspired?
[spoiler]
Red for the bloodshed and struggle for freedom.
Blue for the Indian Ocean, in the middle of which Mauritius is situated.
Yellow for the new light of independence shining over the island.
Green for its lush vegetation and its colour throughout the year.

April 15, 2015, 05:36:15 AM
Reply #20
Me like it, as usual!
Do you write everyday or just when you're feeling inspired?


I wish I wrote everyday, but no; it's only when I'm inspired. I wrote this last one after reading a poem by Edgar Allan Poe. It gave me a jolt of energy, making me want to write something similar.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 24, 2015, 06:29:43 PM
Reply #21
I can see the shadow of Poe's influences in this particular piece, but it's also very much all yours; there's an agelessness about the poem, and a sense of tarnishment from something well-worn yet never touched.

That's a compliment, of course, and an impression from the "vibe"  of your piece.  A job well done, your ability truly grows more with each use.  Thank you for encouraging me to read it. Very well worth the read, my friend.

in story we do not retreat from reality we rediscover it

April 24, 2015, 08:58:17 PM
Reply #22
I can see the shadow of Poe's influences in this particular piece, but it's also very much all yours; there's an agelessness about the poem, and a sense of tarnishment from something well-worn yet never touched.

That's a compliment, of course, and an impression from the "vibe"  of your piece.  A job well done, your ability truly grows more with each use.  Thank you for encouraging me to read it. Very well worth the read, my friend.

You're so sweet boospookum! Thank you for always giving me encouragement! *hugs*
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

May 14, 2015, 07:39:00 PM
Reply #23
I started a new story a few weeks ago. It's not finished, and I haven't done much editing. Tell me what you all think of it though. Please, someone read this. The Root of the Weed
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

May 16, 2015, 08:52:58 PM
Reply #24
I agree with Boo on the Poe influence as I'd gotten alot of the neo-Gothic Victorian flavor... I loved it.