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Post by Ivy on Apr 8, 2010 17:48:28 GMT -5
Here's your chance to show all of us how creative you can be whether it's a poem, short story, drawing or whatever your creative mind can think of!! So be creative and those who submit their work will be in a random drawing for a special prize at the end of each month! So have fun and can't wait to see what you guys come up with! ;D
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Post by Amante dei Libri on Apr 9, 2010 23:19:56 GMT -5
Yay! I can finally post my one-shot for you all to see. I posted it on two other sites, so if you see it somewhere else, hopefully that's why.
The Fallen Lovers You were my shining light, my breath, my sweet. You were a muse beyond the powers of my ancestors, and the pull you held over me was as radiant as the newly formed constellations that sheltered us from the emptiness of the universe. Your beauty was the beauty of one that has not felt the harshness of life, one whose innocence is intact and unbreakable. In you, I found respite. In you, I found peace. Your beauty, your innocence, your power and perfection. And temptation. Your temptation as our downfall. One Week Previous The wash of water down the stream is perpetual. The fall of leaves is cyclical. The roll of wind is everlasting. I think of these as being the path that my life will take… No end to the emotions that fill me, no need to stop and rest in the eternal ecstasy that I have collected around me. The music will never end, my love will never cease. The loll of the afternoon is comfortable. It falls around me like a cloud and envelopes my body with spring. The bloom of life is around me and I cannot stop myself from taking a deep breath, holding it until I think my lungs will burst, and letting it out with a sigh of satisfaction. A sigh of hope for the future of all this joy. Reclined in the tall grass surrounding me, I feel small. The immense sky above me makes me feel lonely without him. I should have met him hours ago, I had promised to—but the earth is so warm, the fragrances of nature so sweet that I could not resist this perfection. He will understand. We have forever together, after all. Thinking of his anger, I shiver. He does not like it when I am away. He refuses to play his lyre with those magical fingers of his, and whenever I return his fear is tangible around him, a halo of unease. He worries too much. Dipping my fingers in the water of the stream, I run them through my hair, straightening out the tangled locks and pulling loose the grass that has become entangled. Deep in my task, I do not notice, at first, the sound of someone’s approach. I know the name of this person. I know his face. I know his voice and his words. “I thought I saw you here,” he says. “I thought I saw the golden beauty of your hair and the shine of your eyes,” he says. He is no poet, he is no master of words—he is not my love and never will be. “Aristaeus,” I whisper on the breeze. “What are you doing this fine day?” I hope that he will tell me he is busy, that he must go, that he must be on his way. I know this man’s intentions. I know this man’s soul. “I was tending to my bees, but a glimpse of your beauty has drawn me away from my task.” He smiles, mouth stretching grotesquely. “I wished to gaze upon you at a lesser distance.” He reaches out his hand, as though to touch my hair, but I stop him with a sharp tone. “You know I am claimed. Why do you insist on bothering me so?” Anger clouds his face, and the hand that had been gently advancing towards me grabbed my hair roughly and pulled. “Why must you reject me so? You are not as chaste as all of that!” Blindness obscures his thoughts, and he pays no mind to the ruin of Tityus—he who coveted that which was not freely given. I do not want to realize his intentions, but when he yanks at my dress, I break free as fast as I can and flee. It is many minutes before I feel too tired to continue, and by this time I am out of sight of the beekeeper. I feel cold inside. Breathless, I make my way back towards the river, to the spot where I first met him, my one and only love. The spot where the only thing I can possibly feel is warmth in my heart. Fat, wet drops splatter across my skin. I have been out far too long, but I cannot stop my feet from moving under me, cannot stop myself from this urge. Perhaps it was fate. The pain in my heel was sudden, and somehow not totally unexpected. The end was quick and I felt myself being pulled away from my body, from the serpent that took my life and was still curled around my heel.
I know he will come. I know he will come to find me and take me home. And if this last hope fails, he will join me soon. The dank gloominess of the cave instills a deep frigidness in me, and the pain that remains in my heel is the least of my worries in the depression I feel. Suddenly, a light touches my heart. A sound floats on the cavern walls and my very soul once more feels the ecstatic brush of life. He is here, my master poet, my master musician. He has come to be with me. Slipping out of my prison, I watch the song progress, I watch him as he pours his heart into the music. Every note is not only perfect, but contains an otherness, obtains a level beyond perfection. The gods weep. His gift is fate. Every nuance of it wounds me more, until I feel so raw that the damp air feels heavy on my stinging skin. It is one of those things that are somehow entirely expected. As the gods release me from their care, I follow my husband from the depths of death. I do not think. I reach out. Pain slices through my heel, up my spine in a crackle of agony that ends with the buzzing of bees in my head. I feel myself dying. “What madness has destroyed us, Orpheus?” My hand remains tight on his arm as I die once again, a second, more final death. His eyes are focused on mine, wide with fear. I feel the last rattle of breath in my throat. “I am sorry, my husband,” I say. I have no time to tell him of my undying love for him as I sink into the depths of my personal Hell. One Week Later She was my light, my breath, my sweet. My one and only muse. My beauty of all beautiful things. Her innocence was attractive in the way that the most fragile and breakable of things is attractive. One look was all it took to fall in love with her. One look was all it took to let her fall away from me. My love. My Eurydice.
If it wasn't obvious by the end, this was a retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice story in classic mythology. I tried to get it as accurate as possible, and if you look it up online hopefully there will be a similar version minus the embellishment. It's a little rough because more than anything it was an experiment in present tense. I always write in past tense, and I was quite tired when I was writing it (any mistakes are to be blamed on that). I would very much appreciate some constructive criticism so that I may improve! ;D
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Post by ilovestark on Apr 11, 2010 15:24:12 GMT -5
hey amante! I definitely liked your take on Orpheus and Eurydice i think of myself as a soon-to-be Greek mythology expert, and your view on the myth is very accurate, though i think that you could have written a bit more on Orpheus' journey to the Underworld, in which he consults Hades to bring back his love, Eurydice. Also, when you wrote about the story towards the end, Orpheus was given the task to journey out of the Underworld, assured by Hades that Eurydice was going with him, but he could not look back at her until he reached the threshold of earth and the Underworld. It is then that Orpheus, not believing in Hades, looks back to see Eurydice in her spirit form and watches her slink away. I think that if you had written more in Orpheus' perspective in the end and through his journey through the depths of hell, it would have been enabling more people not familiar with the myth to understand the tragedy of their love. All in all, a great perception of the story. I would love to see your take on other myths! ;D One that would be fascinating for you to retell would be the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. Thanks, Jessica
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Post by ilovestark on Apr 11, 2010 15:39:06 GMT -5
Here's one I wrote when I did some brainstorming on love... The phrase "not just a walk in the park" fits my poem pretty well, though the love in this poem has nothing to do with a park. I hope you enjoy it At the Mercy of the Sea Some say that love... It is extreme diving... That you are stepping On the cliff, Stuck in between Safety and Terror. The blue waters Beat the weak Against the sharp rocks, And the depth Is fathomless. Shreds of flesh and blood Float on the breaking waves. Colorful, lurking fish flash THeir looks at unsuspecting Divers, And they notice not when They flash their jagged, carnivorous Teeth. Moments of bliss Survive in the jump. Moments of pain scar the body. Dark seaweed clings to the searcher. Sense of direction is lost in The lightless depths, And the searcher of love Is unfortunately At the Mercy of the Sea.
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Post by kooozel on Apr 11, 2010 22:56:04 GMT -5
I have a journal...it's a mess...my thoughts are incoherent and random nothings are usually what it is composed of....there are notes and papers taped in from when I didn't have it on me and needed to jot down my thoughts before I felt like my head would implode...tonight was one of those nights...I kind of liked my entry and thought I'd share it with you all. Hope you like it I'm going to let myself sulk tonight, but when tomorrow come's i will be who i want to be...do what i need to do...and be a stronger person because of it. So here's to using the hurt life can bring to making you a better person...here's to not letting the bad stuff control your life...here's to not letting the approval of others dictate how you feel about yourself...here's to being emotional - letting yourself feel every emotion to the fullest before letting it go...here's to growing up.
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Post by Amante dei Libri on Apr 12, 2010 18:10:07 GMT -5
hey amante! I definitely liked your take on Orpheus and Eurydice i think of myself as a soon-to-be Greek mythology expert, and your view on the myth is very accurate, though i think that you could have written a bit more on Orpheus' journey to the Underworld, in which he consults Hades to bring back his love, Eurydice. Also, when you wrote about the story towards the end, Orpheus was given the task to journey out of the Underworld, assured by Hades that Eurydice was going with him, but he could not look back at her until he reached the threshold of earth and the Underworld. It is then that Orpheus, not believing in Hades, looks back to see Eurydice in her spirit form and watches her slink away. I think that if you had written more in Orpheus' perspective in the end and through his journey through the depths of hell, it would have been enabling more people not familiar with the myth to understand the tragedy of their love. All in all, a great perception of the story. I would love to see your take on other myths! ;D One that would be fascinating for you to retell would be the story of Theseus and the Minotaur. Thanks, Jessica Thank you for the great feedback. I was actually trying to stay away from Orpheus' perspective, as his story is told all the time and you rarely get to hear anything from Eurydice. I was trying not to give away until the end that it was that particular story, too, especially to those not very familiar with the myth (hence, not using their names until the end, etc). Towards the end I was also attempting to imply that the reason Orpheus looked back was because Eurydice reached out to touch him, not because he was tempted to make sure she was there (mostly because I think it's ridiculous that he would jeopardize their undying love like that, even after Hades specifically warned him, whereas Eurydice could not have been in the proper mind (the traditional man-falling-to-the-temptation-of-woman trope is not lost on me, and I wanted to change it up a little)), thus making it Eurydice's bad judgment rather than his. The myth usually paints him as sort of an idiot-savant--extremely dumb in many things, but somehow still a musical genius and whatnot--and I always thought there must have been more to it than that. If you have any recommendations on how to make the ending more clear, I welcome them. ;D ...And, as it usually happens, this post is much longer than I intended.
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Post by hng on May 18, 2010 11:56:23 GMT -5
No Be Creative....May2010? ? ok well then i guess i will just add my poem in here. lol Here I sit by myself With a clock up on the shelf tick tock......tick tock I'm waiting as the time slowly passes by each second an hour.... each hour a day..... each day a year.... I sit and I wait I wait for you here tick tock......tick tock But you won't come you never do so I will sit here by myself me and that clock up on the shelf tick tock......tick tock
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