No excuse either, I just really need to start doing it in the morning when I actually do have time and not wait until later when I don't, and then forget. Oh well. Here's a poem that I wrote a couple of days ago, I don't think it works terribly well as a poem, but I like the words a lot.
And always, I am full
of contradictions.
I believe that I can do all things
and nothing, too
I'm alright, and I'm the worst
there is hope, and I am lost
I want to go explore the world and
never leave here.
And always, what I want most
is conviction.
Kelia
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Nano excerpt #2
Here is part two of the first chapter of last year's nanowrimo story :)
When I was eight, the year after my father died, the music came again. I sat upright, my eyes on the woods as the sound wove it’s way closer and closer. Someone was singing this time, a shrill voice that had pierced through my dreams. I couldn’t understand the words but it was making my skin crawl in a way that sent me running down the hallway in a burst of energy.
“Do you hear that?” I demanded, coming to a stop in Jake’s room. I had never told him my stories about the faeries I heard, but he couldn’t possible be sleeping through this song. And I was right, he was lying stiffly in bed staring at the ceiling.
“Hear what?” he asked, shifting towards me and sighing. I just stared at him. The song was reaching it’s climax, the voice climbing higher and higher until it seemed like it was right outside the window. He was blinking at me with his ‘Oh god what’s she going on about now?’ look, but I saw him flinch when the song was cut off by laughter and shrieking.
“The Faerie music,” I said boldly. “You can hear it, you’d be deaf not to.” But he was already laughing.
“Faerie music?” he gasped, wheezing. “Oh, that’s good. Are they dancing with their friends the elves and leprechauns? And maybe some unicorns?” I wanted to punch him.
“You can’t do this!” I shouted, over the sound of him still laughing and the next song that had started. “You hear it! What else could it be?”
“Not faeries!” He stopped laughing and sat up, looking at me pityingly. Which was even worse than the laughing. “Gosh Vee, it’s the neighbors.”
“The… neighbors?” I faltered.
“They’re having a party,” he explained to me slowly, like I was two. “Lots of dancing and singing, and they must have huge boom boxes because everyone on the whole street can hear it.”
“But…” it didn’t sound like noises humans would make. “The shrieking,” I pointed out hurriedly. “And screaming, that doesn’t happen at parties.”
“Some parties it does,” he said knowingly, already sliding back under his covers. “But you had better ask mom about those.” I stood there motionless for a minute and he closed his eyes. The music was still going but it seemed duller now, like something that really could be made from lots of piccolos and flutes and wound up humans. It was stupid to think faeries were real before thinking of the neighbors.
“Hey,” Jake said softly. I looked back at him but his face was hidden again, the moonlight had only showed off his lovely laughing face when he was sitting up. “Sorry if I was mean about it.”
“It’s fine,” I said shortly, and padded slowly back to my room. It was fine, even if it meant one more memory with my dad meant nothing at all. All either of us needed was a good pair of ear plugs. After that I started sleeping through the night.
Kelia
When I was eight, the year after my father died, the music came again. I sat upright, my eyes on the woods as the sound wove it’s way closer and closer. Someone was singing this time, a shrill voice that had pierced through my dreams. I couldn’t understand the words but it was making my skin crawl in a way that sent me running down the hallway in a burst of energy.
“Do you hear that?” I demanded, coming to a stop in Jake’s room. I had never told him my stories about the faeries I heard, but he couldn’t possible be sleeping through this song. And I was right, he was lying stiffly in bed staring at the ceiling.
“Hear what?” he asked, shifting towards me and sighing. I just stared at him. The song was reaching it’s climax, the voice climbing higher and higher until it seemed like it was right outside the window. He was blinking at me with his ‘Oh god what’s she going on about now?’ look, but I saw him flinch when the song was cut off by laughter and shrieking.
“The Faerie music,” I said boldly. “You can hear it, you’d be deaf not to.” But he was already laughing.
“Faerie music?” he gasped, wheezing. “Oh, that’s good. Are they dancing with their friends the elves and leprechauns? And maybe some unicorns?” I wanted to punch him.
“You can’t do this!” I shouted, over the sound of him still laughing and the next song that had started. “You hear it! What else could it be?”
“Not faeries!” He stopped laughing and sat up, looking at me pityingly. Which was even worse than the laughing. “Gosh Vee, it’s the neighbors.”
“The… neighbors?” I faltered.
“They’re having a party,” he explained to me slowly, like I was two. “Lots of dancing and singing, and they must have huge boom boxes because everyone on the whole street can hear it.”
“But…” it didn’t sound like noises humans would make. “The shrieking,” I pointed out hurriedly. “And screaming, that doesn’t happen at parties.”
“Some parties it does,” he said knowingly, already sliding back under his covers. “But you had better ask mom about those.” I stood there motionless for a minute and he closed his eyes. The music was still going but it seemed duller now, like something that really could be made from lots of piccolos and flutes and wound up humans. It was stupid to think faeries were real before thinking of the neighbors.
“Hey,” Jake said softly. I looked back at him but his face was hidden again, the moonlight had only showed off his lovely laughing face when he was sitting up. “Sorry if I was mean about it.”
“It’s fine,” I said shortly, and padded slowly back to my room. It was fine, even if it meant one more memory with my dad meant nothing at all. All either of us needed was a good pair of ear plugs. After that I started sleeping through the night.
Kelia
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Excerpt
I've been reading through last year's nanowrimo novel today, it actually isn't as bad as I remembered! In parts at least. Here's the very beginning.
When I was little, I used to think that faeries visited the woods across the street. Not all the time, but once or twice a year I would wake up to music seeping in from somewhere outside-- a wild music full of high voiced flutes and screaming laughter and the drumbeat of dancing feet. I would listen until the sounds moved away, and I’d always be sad to hear it go even though I’d dream cavorting dreams of shadows and monsters after.
Some nights I’d be brave enough to slide out of bed, trailing blankets after me, and press my face to the window glass. The trees across the street were just a mass of darkness that were impossible to see through. I was never brave enough to go out and find them, and I don’t think the thought even occurred to me. The woods were off bounds at night and sitting there frozen, my head pounding with their music against the coolness of the glass, I didn’t really want to get any closer.
I told Elle fantastical stories about the music and the faeries who roamed the woods as soon as I could attach a name to what I thought they were, but she slept like a rock and never really believed me. Once I woke crying from a whirlwind nightmare of dancing with faceless creatures and my dad was there, stroking my hair and murmuring to me.
“What was it, Valerie?” he whispered when I opened my eyes. I blinked up at his shadowy head and desperately searched for eyes, nose, mouth-- and sighed when he shifted into a patch of moonlight.
“It was the music,” I told him groggily. “It gives me bad dreams.” He was motionless for a long moment, his eyes looking past me and out the window.
“So don’t listen,” he said at last, smiling back down at me softly. “You don’t have to listen.”
“I don’t know how not to,” I said, balling up the sheets in my fists. I stared up at him hopefully, waiting for words of wisdom, or even a reprimand, but he just laid down next to me and let me nestle into him.
“Neither do I,” he said into my hair, so softly that I might have dreamt it.
Kelia
When I was little, I used to think that faeries visited the woods across the street. Not all the time, but once or twice a year I would wake up to music seeping in from somewhere outside-- a wild music full of high voiced flutes and screaming laughter and the drumbeat of dancing feet. I would listen until the sounds moved away, and I’d always be sad to hear it go even though I’d dream cavorting dreams of shadows and monsters after.
Some nights I’d be brave enough to slide out of bed, trailing blankets after me, and press my face to the window glass. The trees across the street were just a mass of darkness that were impossible to see through. I was never brave enough to go out and find them, and I don’t think the thought even occurred to me. The woods were off bounds at night and sitting there frozen, my head pounding with their music against the coolness of the glass, I didn’t really want to get any closer.
I told Elle fantastical stories about the music and the faeries who roamed the woods as soon as I could attach a name to what I thought they were, but she slept like a rock and never really believed me. Once I woke crying from a whirlwind nightmare of dancing with faceless creatures and my dad was there, stroking my hair and murmuring to me.
“What was it, Valerie?” he whispered when I opened my eyes. I blinked up at his shadowy head and desperately searched for eyes, nose, mouth-- and sighed when he shifted into a patch of moonlight.
“It was the music,” I told him groggily. “It gives me bad dreams.” He was motionless for a long moment, his eyes looking past me and out the window.
“So don’t listen,” he said at last, smiling back down at me softly. “You don’t have to listen.”
“I don’t know how not to,” I said, balling up the sheets in my fists. I stared up at him hopefully, waiting for words of wisdom, or even a reprimand, but he just laid down next to me and let me nestle into him.
“Neither do I,” he said into my hair, so softly that I might have dreamt it.
Kelia
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Old poem
Here's a poem from February 2011, which really sums up my mood a lot of days!
My mind is going round and round
and all the noises every sound
seems loud and yet I want to sleep
and can't relax and nothing seems
to have a point and all I'll do
all night I fear is sit and think
and ponder pointlessly until
the night is gone and I'm asleep.
Kelia
My mind is going round and round
and all the noises every sound
seems loud and yet I want to sleep
and can't relax and nothing seems
to have a point and all I'll do
all night I fear is sit and think
and ponder pointlessly until
the night is gone and I'm asleep.
Kelia
Monday, June 4, 2012
Rain poem
Yesterday was awfully rainy, (today too) but they must have had some bike race/event planned because I saw about 50 bikes go by my house in the morning, and then I saw them all around later throughout the day. I can't imagine how miserable it must have been to spend all day in the cold wet.
The sky has been dripping all day
steadily, and in spurts
of splattering, juicy round drops
like fragile perfect blueberries
that don't leave stains
on hunched-over shoulders
and furiously whizzing
feet and gears, chains and wheels
chains decapitate the rain-berries
tires crush remains
but the rain never stops
cyclists cannot win on days
when life is a puddle
and the world is a drip.
Kelia
The sky has been dripping all day
steadily, and in spurts
of splattering, juicy round drops
like fragile perfect blueberries
that don't leave stains
on hunched-over shoulders
and furiously whizzing
feet and gears, chains and wheels
chains decapitate the rain-berries
tires crush remains
but the rain never stops
cyclists cannot win on days
when life is a puddle
and the world is a drip.
Kelia
Sunday, June 3, 2012
No Excuse
I really have no excuse for missing yesterday. I ended up being busier than I thought I would be, and then didn't remember to do it before bed. I'm getting so bad! I need to have a sticky note on my pajamas or something.
Here's a poem from April 2010. It's a weird poem and I wish I could remember what was happening when I wrote it, but I like it even if I can't :)
This day this moment now
is ringing in my ears
the who they why the how
has all built up for years
And I am me
and you are you
and everyone is everyone
is one
Kelia
Friday, June 1, 2012
June!
Happy June :) it's almost summer! I love summer and spring and fall the most :D
I wrote 14 poems in May, though I've only posted five of them. Here's two short ones, and the rest of them will probably never see the light of day.
There was lightening last night
no thunder, just sudden
flashes of white
that lit up the sky
and the trees, and the yard
and disappeared, leaving
imprints on my eyes
and me staring outside
waiting for more.
This next one is really silly :P
My poems, like cheese,
ripen with age
the older they get
the more I realize
they stink.
Kelia
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