10/11/06 07:25 pm - necrostopheles
Scansion, rhyme, passion, vim,
At first it starts as something dim,
And words a chain with which to bind,
To ink the nebulous whim of mind.
Some with iron shackles rough,
Not artful but both true and tough,
Speak the things which must be said,
Bluntly pierce both heart and head.
Others light, lay verse on verse,
Artisans from words they nurse,
Slender a chain as e'er did float,
About the fairest maiden's throat.
A chain may circle and hold there,
A thing great, or a thing spare.
It can lend grandeur, meaning, heft.
Be it well-formed; blunt or deft.
Shoddy fetters likewise skew
Something that is twice as true,
As in them it doth appear.
Make it grate upon the ear.
So poet take both time and care,
To well-forge the flawless snare.
For an idea thou would hold,
Upon a page where all behold.
-PSM (Spring 2006)
Perhaps this is why all the stuff I feel is worth posting ends up sounding similar to people. I have to hammer it into some form first.
I can write.
Poems without meter without order.
But it always feels like I am,
Letting myself off easy.
Not putting in the effort.
Two things which mean the same thing.
Why is that?
-PSM (Spring 2006)
4/24/06 04:31 pm - lizala2000
I remember, I remember
when my child was stillborn
she turned and turned inside of me
then dissolved like dried-up corn
It's a lonely story, I admit
but those of love most are
I'll keep making up these fake love songs
until one calls me from a star
In the darkness I did see,
A stream of light to guide me.
Shining down like God’s own hand ,
Bringing salvation from the Lamb.
I gazed in wonder and in awe
At this beauteous thing I saw.
Attracted to this lovely sight,
I moved towards it fight by fight.
I stumbled and fell along the way
But, got up to fight the very next day.
Through my strife I helped some friends,
That became my strength in the end.
Now a group, no longer alone,
We’ve found a peace while going home
In that wondrous stream of light
Shining down with God’s own might.
4/19/06 10:58 pm - pmaccabe
something must be done about this infernal quiet.
2/18/06 09:59 pm - oboeonthefalls - that music
1/24/06 09:01 pm - nicksislds - A new poem that I'm excited about... finally.
“My Weakening Will”
I’ve never asked to be broken before
but I kneel here pleading you now…
Create me over again.
You can make an awe-inspiring
persona I could never dream to be.
Twenty stubborn years I’ve been suffering
believing I knew what was best…
Save me from mortal depths
and help me follow unwaveringly.
It’s been tiring and wasteful trying
to be so seemingly perfect…
Transform me completely
to fit the mold of divine destiny.
I turn over all that I own to you
which is nothing but weakened will…
Leave me never to fail
alone on the path back to thee Father.
10/23/05 08:52 pm - radagast14 - Screenplay Represented!
Hello to the Mormon Writers community!
Since graduating from the University of Nebraska at Omaha with a degree in Creative Writing three years ago, I've sought representation for my screenwriting work. Finally, last week, after much perserverence, agent Cynthia Roberts of Delphinius Talent Management agreed to represent my film "Slinky and Yo-Yo's Fantastic Ferret Odyssey."
Since that news, I've created a live journal account. When I saw there was a Mormon Writers community, I knew it was a perfect place for me to belong. I'm looking forward to interacting with you all and sharing (hopefully) some future success with my friends here.
In the meantime, here's the link to the website of my agent. They just updated their info to include my work. If you click on the Clients tab, you'll see my name (Bryce Journey) on the alphabetized list. If you click on the Screenplays tab and then click on either the "Animal-Themed", "Animation", or "Children's-Themed" options, you'll find a synopsis of my movie at the bottom of any of those lists. If any of you have a chance to read through it, I'd love to know if you think it sounds like a cool movie or not!
8/8/05 12:45 pm - nicksislds - To Emily Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop For Death"
By: Nicole R. Stott
When I did not
want to leave somewhere
I once kicked and screamed -
I did not do this with death.
Instead I shed a silent tear
as I let my hand be led
by immortal bones
for one last look -
at my passed mortality.
I saw old friends laughing
and dining by candle light
living life to the fullest.
I wished I had eaten -
with them just one more time.
I passed through
my cold, empty, longing house
with open windows
blowing my once precious
words in a flurry.
The mess isn't important now.
Nothing of the world is relevant now.
Nothing will come with me -
except my regrets.
7/26/05 01:12 pm - pmaccabe
Do you think if we each picked an example of our best poetry, short stories, other writing and submitted them together to something like Irreantum we could manage to get some of us published?
Anyone care to find out? I'll polish up and submit something if you will.