Archive for the ‘Indie Author’ Category

I see the spiders before you do

For they are my brethren

My small, ugly countrymen who scurry in the dark

 

Just like the insects

The flies

The bacteria, contaminating nothing but my mind

I think it’s on everything

 

Cracks

River bed veins

Petrol, oatmeal, vitamin E

Boils of pus, infected

Look how clean I am

 

The sink

The tub

My altars to the clean

Where I scrub the day’s success away

Mere failure lies beneath

Maybe it’s just…ME who is filthy

 

Wash my self off myself

 

Gaze into my mind

Don’t worry, this abyss is too drunk to stare back

Inebriated, toxic

Like how I relate with all my loves

 

Psychotic–how I’m to be

Always at the floor on bended knee

I should love my Master

Rather, I grovel at His feet

 

I’ve washed my fingers

I’ve washed and I’ve prayed seven times today

Hoping my loves will perish not

Lecherous crisis – come see what I’ve wrought

 

Scar tissue, with bruises

Marks on a shattered mirror

It was a smudge to begin with

Smeared with the weakness of weakness

 

So soft…

 

Perhaps another pill will help

A capsule, sublingual

Washed down with inverted ambrosia

 

Oh, no

 

You’ve hurt your loves again

 

Cease! No more talking to yourself

Talk to the Answer instead

I’ve cast this shadow all on my own

Please, lift away the darkness

 

Yellow star at dawn

Brighter…

 

Brighter

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I’m done with this hiatus
This hiatus, it made my heart burn
No, Not the acidic esophagus
I could handle that

But it burns from being….
Lonesome
More lacunal than alive
The throbs were empty
Pulses of creative energy
That needed to be shared
Lucky seven? I don’t care

Because you are all in need
In fact, you desperately REQUIRE
A dash of venom, a cup of honesty
And a teaspoon of regret.

Don’t you worry, baby
I’ll give you hope as well
But you better take the salt
‘Fore I give you any sugar

Want some vinegar?
Some honey?

Too bad.

Blood is the thickest of rivers
Take this flow before you take the rest

Cream
Cotton
Sugar
No baby, take this negativity

For how can you be happy?
If you weren’t at first depressed
At the Genesis

I’ll save you if you’ll take it
Not sorry that I made it

I’ll fill your lungs with ecstasy
Come be with me, there’s nowhere else to be

This body…
This skin upon my outsides
It aches, it pains
It makes me think I wanna die

But fuck it.
It’s phantasmal anyway.

This soul…
This ghost….
More solid….
Than our flesh

Fuck this fucking scarecrow

junglepic

 

As I dip my quill to begin the dictation of these first lines, six hours have passed since I began reading through the records of the library. Oh! How Happiness and I miss each other already! However, she is likewise very busy currently tending to our newborn daughter and to the Rhinocydont hatchlings – which reminds me that I must write quickly, for Dienok and I are due for a hunt at dawn. Still, no matter how quickly I write, I know that I will have to stay awake throughout the whole night to finish it (perhaps even after the hunt).

I am not alone, however. Our cat, who the whole kingdom knows by the title, “Princess”, is with me, curled up next to my papers at this very moment (she has learned not to spill my ink or eat my parchment, for she will have to sleep outside if she does it again). She is always with me when I am alone. Her presence has proved to be an immense comfort to me most of the time, though I do wish that she would leave me to myself on occasion.

Now, back to hurrying. About two minutes have passed since I finished reading the works of Alpha, Amoris, and Steer (the records do not show who dictated Steer’s poetry for him). The content of each scribe’s work is written beautifully, but it lacks the substance of narrative integral to storytelling. The whole Jungle has long wished that I would write a second book, but my life is so perfect now that I have constantly had to tell them that I have nothing to write about (I once attempted to compose a book of poetry for Happiness, but have since hidden it, for it cannot do her beauty and excellence justice). So I have now decided to give the Jungle Dwellers what they want with another book. But, as a wise man once said to me, “It’s not about what you want. It’s only about what you need.” And this whole world needs, in fact, desperately requires that the chronicles of my late friends (the REAL heroes of this Jungle, no matter what anyone, including Happiness, says) be made known.

Most of this story came from Alpha’s diary, and the only reason I even read it is because Happiness and the bovine tribe have convinced me that Alpha would have wanted it. It has been the strangest thing I have ever experienced – entering the mind of a mind reader.

The writings of Amoris were cryptic and prophetic, for she composed in detail the periods of isolation that the heroes experienced, hundreds of years before the events even occurred.

I believe I have captured the essence of my beloved Steer’s mind and soul due to heartfelt and cathartic poetry he left behind. This gives me the greatest joy of all, though it does make me wonder what he might have truly thought of me at least on occasion when he was alive. But the same goes for Emanuel, the Rhinocydonts, and, most of all, Snapper. Not necessarily about what he thought of me, but about the fact that all the inhabitants of the Jungle, myself included, may not have truly known him or any of these heroes at all.

When I am finished (whether before or after the hunt), I shall go over the whole work with Dienok for his approval. I wouldn’t want the public’s intimate knowledge of how his race once was to be a reason for him to return to his home world with his dragon kingdom (which Happiness could do for him at any time; but, thank the Creator, they have decided on remaining in the Jungle indefinitely).

I do believe that this is enough of a preface, so I shall now begin the tale. Please, enjoy it, for the sake of my fallen friends.

 

 

 

– Contentment (written signature)

 

The cold air bit down hard onto the congregation, and the thick fog filled their lungs to the point of smothering. It was a clichéd coincidence—the violent nihilism of these people was mirrored back to them by the environment.

But to the clan, it was holy.

There were fourteen of them, walking hurriedly in a close-knit formation. From afar, the group would have appeared to be silent, but if you had been there and were able to move in closer, your bone marrow would have melted due to sheer terror. The noise—every single one of them was whispering. Harsh, hissing tones that sounded like wicked spells or enchantments. They were praying—or, at least, they believed they were praying.

But in the center of the group, the noise changed. It was louder, but it sounded muffled. Dog-like whimpering is the closest approximation, and in fact, the maker of the noise was being treated worse than a dog.

After moving through the woods for about a mile, the people stopped at the base of a hill. The whimpering ceased as the group gathered in a circle around a single figure. It was a man. Clean-shaven, handsome, crew-cut, casual suit with a pink tie—he looked, for all the world, like a preacher.

“Brothers and sisters!” he cried, tears flowing copiously from his sunken eyes. “We have a demon in our midst! It sat next to you in the pews, it sang in the choir, and it lived under my roof.”

The crowd remained silent.

“It shared my bed!” screamed the man. “My house! My children!” He raised his hands and closed his eyes. “And now, it’s time to cast it out.”

A crumpled mass was pushed out of the circle and onto the man’s polished black dress shoes. It was a human being, a woman in a pink dress with a burlap sack over her head. Her whimpering increased in decibel and filled up with panic as the man lifted the sack from her bruised and bleeding face. She tried to pray through the rope between her jaws, tried to plead with the people, and tried not to look the man in the eye. But she couldn’t help it. She knew him intimately.

“Look at me.” He lifted her chin forcefully and put his face inches from her own. “You don’t deserve to look at a child of God. You don’t even deserve the gift of sight.”

Still clutching her jaw, he looked up towards the crowd and hollered.

“By grace, we gonna fix that problem! Glory! Amen!”

Like vultures crossbred with parrots, the macabre congregation resounded with mimicry, accompanied by a torrent of hoots and hollers.

The man pulled a pair of gardening shears from his suit. The woman was no longer whimpering.

        I didn’t like my first time. Sure, I felt a lot of pride from what I had accomplished – which was a necessary objective – but I still didn’t like it. I had just been born. My kind aren’t conscious until we carry out our objective for the first time. However, I do somehow instinctively know that the others and I went through intensive training and testing before we were conscious. 

 You see, we only become sentient, only become able to understand the implications of our function, after we get an owner. And my first owner caused me to carry out my function efficiently and righteously – though I do wish that my function wasn’t even necessary in this world.

 “It wasn’t my fault,” I told myself after the smoke had cleared. “I wouldn’t even exist if not for the creators.”

 To this day, I know that my thinking in regards to this matter has always been correct. But it will never take away the guilt I have over what I was made for.

 As I think back to when I was first used, I realize that the memory is a blurry one. All I can really recall is a man in black bursting through my owner’s front door and rushing towards his daughter. Then, only blackness…until my next use. Time doesn’t really pass much between our uses, especially not from our perspective.

 All of a sudden, I had a new owner, and I hated him. I hated him with every polymer of my lead. My previous owner had used me almost half-ashamedly to protect his family. But this new man – he was the type of person who families would actually need protection from. The same type who almost took my first owner’s daughter. The only type my kind should ever be used against.

 We aren’t exactly conscious between our uses, but we are somehow still aware of what happens with our owners during that time. I can’t really explain it, and some of the events are still clouded to me; but I’m aware of most of the events that transpired with both my previous owner and my current one. What I don’t know, however, is how I came to be possessed by this new man.

 I could have been stolen, sold, found – it doesn’t really matter anyway. The bad ones always find ways of acquiring us, and a lot of the good ones are just too timid to even consider owning us and putting us to our proper use. 

 I also know that they always debate about our control and distribution, but I can’t help but put my tongue in my barrel about all of that. They can never control us. Instead of using us more wisely, they want to eliminate us. But they never can; they are merely kidding themselves.

 The Crystal Demon was once legal, and they eventually eliminated it under law. But anyone can still acquire it. The Drink of Inebriation – which can be blamed for our misuse more than almost anything else – was also once abolished, back in the days of our adolescence. But the people never stopped finding ways to get it – so it became legal once again. I wonder if the same thing could happen with the Crystal Demon.

 Speaking of the Crystal – my new owner consumes it frequently, along with the Nectar of Inebriation. That’s about all he does besides pull my trigger and end lives. Why couldn’t I have been owned by law enforcement, or by a conscientious citizen? Why is fate so cruel?

 Now I fear I am becoming evil, mirroring the heart of my owner. I’m being blamed! They won’t stop blaming me! Can it really be true? All my fault? Why can’t more good people own my kind? I shouldn’t have been made, but it’s too late. Centuries too late. I wish a good man owned me! I feel…I’m becoming…becoming…
SILENCE
METAL
BANG.

This little story of mine has been published by the creative writing group “Creative Quills” into a collection of short narratives titled, Alternate Perspectives

Please check it out and buy a copy! There are many great stories in it from some good friends of mine, all written from the perspective of something not human. 

Only one bite. Then, the morals fled away.

After a mere bite, she slept without dreaming, lived without breathing, and sinned without grieving. Just like the mythical Eve, she tasted something that looked sweet from afar but turned bitter once digested by the soul. The serpent in this case – the reason she was tempted, at least in her mind – was her husband. He had been the cause of this. It was all his fault.

After a few months of constant criticism, joyless celibacy, and a bad habit with the bottle, her husband had finally given her the temptation that she had actually possessed all along. The temptation to chase another.

She didn’t remember much of the first night, other than the fact that she was filled with intense desire. At least until the alcohol took effect. Then, it was more about the death of brain cells than anything else.

After she awakened in his apartment, she found a plate of eggs on the nightstand with a note beside it.

“Had to go to work. Enjoy your breakfast, beautiful.”

How could she have been so stupid? Hooking up and spending the night with a total stranger from a bar?

Still…the man seemed to care about her. He was sweet, much sweeter than a regular one nighter would have been.

It took her a while to register the facts, but she eventually realized that this was going to be a continuous thing.

There was no guilt yet. That would come later, along with the debauchery.

About a week ago, I logged into my wordpress. It wasn’t a busy day for me – work was over and my wife and daughter were at my mother in law’s house, so I had a free day to check my stuff and read as many blog posts as I could. I didn’t expect anything special to be on there specifically about my own blog (though I did expect, as I always do, to read fascinating posts made by those I follow), for I hadn’t made a new post in like two weeks.

But something cool was about to happen.

My good ol’ blog pal, piezoradeon(The Enthralled Cloud of Thought) nominated me for a blogger’s recognition award. Now, I’ve only had followers on this blog for literally two months, have made only a few posts (and even fewer posts about things the populace would be interested in), and when it comes right down to it, I’m the biggest NOOB of them all when it comes to word press. So how do you think I reacted?

Ecstatically.

It feels so good to have people like Piezo and everyone else actually reading the things I write, and I’d like to thank EVERYONE who has ever read anything I’ve posted. Outside the internet, I don’t really have anyone who appreciates my art other than my family. At least not yet 🙂

But my excitement didn’t stop there.

3 days later, A Thought, a Word, and an Eternal Bliss nominated me for this very same award.
A lot of people would say, “Oh its just a blog. Who cares? You didn’t win a real award.”

Not so.

We bloggers are artists(but I’m so inexperienced that I barely have the right to say that!). We all thrive on our art and opinions being viewed and appreciated by somebody. ANYBODY. Because BLOGS START CONVERSATIONS PEOPLE! Intelligent conversations, across thousands of miles, with people appreciating each other’s creativity through an outlet which for some is the only outlet they have to express themselves. At least at first. Blogging gives a person confidence, and it also greatly helps their credibility when they try to send their work, be it poem, sketch, or novel, to a publication company. So for anyone who wants to succeed, blogging is an excellent starting point.
(All that being said, I’m still in no way under any delusions about my blog being great or anything. I wasn’t in a competition, and I didn’t actually win anything, but it just feels good that a couple of people enjoyed my blog)

Let me just say before I type the rules that those nominated for this award are supposed to type that it is an absolute treasure to be recognized by other bloggers, but especially by ones who are as talented and engaging as A Thought, a Word, and an Eternal Bliss and Kushal Gorti(Piezo Radeon). I love both of their blogs so much, and I strongly recommend that you check out their pages.  Now, time for me to post the rules, and then to follow those rules.

The Rules

*Write a post to show your award

*Tell your blog’s origin story – how did it start?
*Write two pieces of advice for new bloggers
*Thank whoever nominated you and share a link to their blog
*Select 15 other blogs that you want to nominate

The Domain: Origin

A little over a year ago, I started my blog for a single purpose – to have my first completed mythical novel read by as many people as possible. Well, that was the MAIN purpose, but I also had one that was far less selfish, albeit only possible if the blog ever became a major success…..to be a place where people all over the world and even in my own humble hometown could post their works of art without fear or criticism, regardless of the medium(by the way, if anyone wants their stuff posted and doesn’t have a blog yet, you can contact me and get your stuff out there through the domain). My idea was for it to be something sort of like the Community Pool, the only exception being that it would specifically be for people like myself who are horribly self conscious and terrified of sharing their thoughts and ideas with the world. Hence my blog slogan: Let’s Slay the Minotaur, One Idea at a Time. This refers to the Greek myth of the slaying of the Minotaur by Theseus, but more poignantly to my own little tweak on that myth which plays a huge part in my novel, “The First and the Last”, which when all is said and done is about nothing more than overcoming life’s many struggles. Well, to this day, that grand dream of idea sharing hasn’t yet come true. But I’m still hopeful. However, the other thing that I wanted actually did happen, surprisingly. A few noble souls have read my posts, and more specifically, chapters from my book. Let me say again that I simply cannot stress enough the amount of gratitude that I feel towards you all. Anyone who has ever even clicked the Like button honestly made my day and gave me strength. But something important to mention is that it took my blog a literal year to be read by ANYONE, at least regularly. I’ll explain more of that later under the Advice heading, but suffice it to say – perseverance. That’s the magic word. But I have learned something very important from blogging that actually overshadows my own desires for success – How to CONVERSE. I have had more conversations on wordpress than I can count, and they were all very intelligent and enjoyable. I don’t really get to talk about things that interest me face to face, because I don’t really know anyone personally who would be interested. Of course I have friends and family – but I’m a loner when it comes to my interests, hobbies, and passions. Hence, the beauty of blogging.
2 bits of advice

1. Take a genuine interest in others. This is a tried and true approach that is crucial to any successful blogger, and, at the risk of me sounding like a barren platitude, is essential to daily life as well. When I first started my blog, I was desperate for attention. I kept posting chapters from my book as well as music and movie reviews for weeks, but it was all for naught. No one even clicked any of it. Then I did what would have been obvious to me in the first place if I had possessed any common sense: I searched through tags and categories and started following people. I really just wanted to get my book read by people, but I discovered something even better. CONNECTION. I stopped fretting over my vacant blog posts and instead read the posts of others. And they were great. They were all just great. Every single person I have followed on wordpress has made at least one post that had me absolutely engaged. Poetry, artwork, books, short stories, reviews, even paragraphs about every day life – its all amazing to me. As I believe I had mentioned previously, CONVERSATIONS are the best thing about blogging. You can easily find people who share your own interests, as well as other people who may spark your interest in other things. I did this for a few weeks and, lo and behold, my blog actually grew from nothing into something. So, suffice it to say that if you take a genuine interest in other blogs and give them feedback, your own blog will inevitably prosper. And don’t just click the like button or comment without reading the actual post. I know its sometimes a temptation to just scroll through and click like a few times, but I have read through every single post that I have ever liked or commented on. You’ll find enough thoughts, ideas, and true works of art through blog posts that you’ll forget all about your own page. You’ll just wanna start some conversations 🙂

2. Community Pool. Post a comment introducing yourself and your page. Then, go through the introductions that others have posted and click on some blogs that look interesting to you. Give them some feedback, and you’ll get some in return. The pool really is a blessing. I found so many awesome people to follow through this, and my own blog almost doubled in feedback.

The Nominees

First, let me introduce the two bloggers who nominated me. The Enthralled Cloud of Thought was the first one to do it. Now I don’t wanna play favorites, but really, who else is as awesome as he is? Nah, I love so many blogs equally, but this guy really is amazing. Every word in his posts is just saturated with wit. You can tell that he’s really intelligent, creative, and has a great sense of humor. He writes all of his posts like a pro, and is just an incredibly nice person. If I knew him face to face, I’d wanna hang out with him all the time.

The second person who nominated me is A Thought, a Word, and an Eternal Bliss. She’s just as awesome and amazing and Kushal and all of my other followers. Very obviously intelligent, very gifted, and very poetic. All of her posts regarding short stories or poetry are just fascinating. She really has a way with words, and she knows exactly how and exactly where to just freakin lace stuff with metaphor. Reading her posts are very good for your imagination, for the imagery she conveys through the words is just stunning

Now, onto the fifteen nominees. This was the hardest part of this post, because all the blogs that I follow are just fantastic. It took me two days to sort through them and make some tough decisions, but if I ever do any other post that recommends people I’ll be sure to talk about everyone else. But literally every blog I follow is already very successful, so a NOOB like me recommending them might not even make much of a difference for them lol. Here are the fifteen I’ve chosen, and with the list I am also going to very briefly explain why you should check out each of their pages and follow them

1. PoeteX
Poetry with a lot of heart done beautifully and professionally. She really knows what she’s doing. A lot of it is very classical and sophisticated. I look forward to reading every new one she so skillfully writes.

2. loveletterstoaghost
Hauntingly beautiful poetry that I believe can connect with ANYONE and speak to their heart. Every single line is excellent. And I just LOVE that name.

3. The Creative Works of James Harrington
The storytelling is just fantastic. He writes exciting books detailing epic struggles between good and evil. He is also very kind and willing to give writers of any kind extremely helpful advice.

4. Relating to Humans
There are all kinds of cool posts on this author’s page, but what’s really exciting is that he is making a war movie with a very well thought out premise that speaks out against misogyny.

5. ericTknight
His book, “Watching the End of the World”, is extremely unique, thought provoking, and exciting. When I’m able to get an Amazon account, his book will be the first one I purchase.

6. Rebecca Elysium
Very dark, fantastic, and unique artwork. But it doesn’t stop there. The poetry that goes along with it is practically perfect. I’ve never come across a page quite like this one. Really engages your mind.

7. (Over)Analysing Literature
If anyone wants a site where you can talk about books, check this out. The content is great. She is quite a skillful writer, and her personality shows through very nicely. She is very well read and has some nice book reviews. Her short stories are fantastic as well.

8. La Audacia de Aquiles
I love mythology, and it was so cool to find a page like this that had such a wealth of information about it. Aquileana really knows her stuff, and she presents it all in a very thoughtful and informative way. She also speaks about a number of great philosophers, including my favorite, Friedrich Nietzche.

9.Gospel Isosceles
The main vibe I get from this blog is intelligence. Passion too. Every post is really top notch, and deals with a wide range of subjects. Awesome poetry, opinions, faith, and so much more. The whole blog is really like a big work of art.

10. Corasteel
Beautiful poetry. The cool thing about it is that it is not only well done, but also REAL. True words from a true heart. Cathartic. I’ve always said that I don’t like any art(especially music) unless it has an edge. And this page has it. Also plenty of other stuff that is just really well written.

11. Writing Dragons
Posts a picture of a dragon every day. And it’s freakin awesome. She always posts pictures of dragons done by fantastic artists, and I haven’t seen a single dud to date. Dragons(dinosaurs in my opinion) are my favorite animals. And this site DELIVERS for a dragon fan boy like me! She’s also working on her own dragon novel, which I look forward to reading.

12. Benjamin Fisher-Merritt(Author)
This blog, among other things, has a fantastic book/saga called “The Starvdale Adventures”. I read one chapter and was hooked. The fight scenes in this story are excellent, as well as the character development, the humor, and the basic story. If you like mythical fantasy, then check out this page immediately.

13. Ultimate Solace
First of all, I’m sure you all agree with me that that name is just tops. Second of all, what terrific poetry! The whole layout of the blog is just excellent, as is the wealth of fantastic, spiritual, and just simply well done poetry! You can read through a LOT of cool things here.

14. Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha
Practically everyday, a post is made that inspires myself and countless others to new heights. Overcoming struggles, breaking free from stagnation in your creativity: you can find anything here. There are also samples from his scifi book/saga, “Echo”, which I wanna buy when I get an Amazon

15. Invisible World

There’s an extremely well written book on here called “The Hashna Stone”, and I highly recommend you check it out. The story arc, characters, creatures, everything is cool. It reminds me of Tolkien in a very good way, but is still a completely original and creative work.

Will it occur?

Is it more than a dream?

I wish it were

But nothing’s as it seems

I’m so sick of the good ones out there

They have it all so I will not fight fair

Finally make them listen to me

My heart screams

Is this a town?

Or just my terrarium for all to look down?

I’m a non sequitur

I do not compute

Wanna tell the world

But my soul is a mute

Maybe someday I’ll break out of this cage

Wander the earth and pretend I’m a sage

I feel I’m less than nothing

I can see it in their eyes.

But I’ll be something, more than nothing

Soar through the skies.

 

At dawn, as I walked out of my bedchamber, met Alpha and Steer, followed them down the dimly lit corridors leading out into the sun soaked facility, and ate a bit of horsemeat, I felt as one undead. Even though I had experienced bliss at its highest but a few short hours before, I felt drained, fatigued, and uneasy.
What struck me the most was that I felt such a thickness in the air; the very same thickness of evil and doubt that I had felt around Snapper and the wretched plants.
I literally only ate a bit of horsemeat, for my stomach felt so small and queasy. Steer noticed this before Alpha did, which surprised me, as Alpha was usually so perceptive and attentive. They kept telling me to eat more of it to restore my strength. I knew that they were correct, but my appetite had completely vanished. Alpha’s pale face became grave and he stopped eating his horsemeat. Steer also abruptly stopped eating his hay.
“Very well, friend,” began Alpha. “If you cannot eat, then neither shall I.”
“Nor I,” said Steer, spitting out his hay and brushing the rest of it into the morning breeze with his hoof.
“No, no, no,” I said, feeling very guilty for inadvertently causing my friends to cease with their breakfast. It did however gladden my heart for a moment, for it was one more instance of how much the best of friends will sacrifice for one another. “I’m not the only one who needs strength.”
Alpha smiled. “Well then,” he continued, “I believe Steer and I both know what we are to do. We knew this would happen, for last night I had to perform some horrible black magic, with Steer knowing that I was doing it. That is what is causing this dreadful thickening of the air, as well as your sudden loss of appetite and strength.”
“Black magic?!?” I exclaimed, deeply shocked and disturbed. “Isn’t that evil? Demonic even?”
“Most of the time,” chuckled Alpha. “But I didn’t commit any sin or evil. I did indeed bring something evil into our midst, but it is for your own good as well as for the good of Happiness. Its sort of like fighting fire with fire….”
“What evil thing is in our midst?” I inquired.
“That isn’t your concern currently, Warrior. Your only concern right now should be recovering your lost strength. Especially to aid you against the result of my deed. You shall see. But forget about it for now. So, back to what I was saying; about how Steer and I are both thinking the same thing right now and have made a pact together inside of our minds. Tell him, my bovine brother.”
“Well,” began Steer with a look of pride and determination upon his furry face. “For every day that you do not eat, Youngling, Alpha and I shall abstain from eating for two days. Oh come now, Youngling, cease with your shouting and protesting – “ for my face was contorted in anger at his words and my lips were yelling in an angry protest – “It’s only fair, you know.”
I actually began to laugh. “How is that fair,” I shouted. “Just because I can’t eat does not mean that you two shouldn’t. That’s ridiculous! You’re just using my guilt against me, and all because I am simply not hungry this morning.”
“You’re lying,” Alpha shouted suddenly, with just a hint of anger. “I know what is happening to you because of the thing I have done. Your stomach is shriveling, your throat is closing, your breathing is labored, and you have lost a few pounds of muscle already within a mere span of hours. You have also lost all the color in your face. You look like you are wearing my face paint. I’m sorry that I have done this to you, Warrior, but I assure you that it is absolutely imperative for the final stage of your training. I don’t blame you if you doubt me or are even angry with me right now, but….do you trust me?”
His words on the night of my ceremony echoed within my mind. Doubt is an illusion. Yes! Of course! Of course I could trust my companion and guide. He had never let me down before. With my anger and doubt now fading away swiftly, I already began to feel some of my strength returning to me. But only a bit. The air still felt dreadfully thick.
“No, Warrior,” said the mind reader. “Not enough strength yet. That is why you must force yourself to eat.”
Steer nudged the plate towards me with his muzzle.
“Before I try,” I started, “Please just tell me why whatever you did is draining away my strength.”
“I told you,” Alpha replied. “You shall see.”
I moved the plate away from me.
“Then I shall not eat.”
Steer kicked my shoulder with one of his hooves, causing me to groan in pain and surprise.
“What on earth was that for, Steer?”
“Oh calm yourself, Youngling,” said Steer with a chuckle. “I have kicked you much harder in the past than that. That was only a nudge. Now, listen here. If you refuse to eat, then Alpha and I shall make our fast three days for your every one.”
I could only sit there in silence. There really wasn’t any point in arguing. My friends were absolutely adamant about this.
“Alright,” I finally conceded, “I shall eat for the sake of the both of you.”
“That’s more like it Young-“
“On one condition,” I said, interrupting Steer. “You must promise me to never address me as Youngling from this moment forth.” Alpha laughed heartily and Steer looked as if he was startled.
“But,” he began with a faltering tone, “I am far older than you are. Centuries old-“
“Yes Steer, I know. You have told me this before. But I am not a child. I have proven myself by fighting Vengeance, Snapper, and the plants. I even overcame them. I have grown very strong…powerful even….”
“Careful, Warrior,” warned Alpha. “You are on the verge of prideful thoughts.”
“I know, Alpha, I know. I’m just happy with myself. I’ve done things that I never would have dreamed were possible a few days ago. So, what’s it gonna be Steer? Do you promise to stop calling me Youngling?”
With a mournful sigh, he agreed. “Yes, I promise. Even though I know you enjoy it. Now eat Young – I mean Warrior.”
I consumed all of the meat on the plate faster than I had ever done before. But, upon swallowing, I felt piercing stabs of pain within my abdomen and chest. It felt as if I was going to choke to death. Leaning forward, then collapsing to my knees, I regurgitated all of the food onto the ground. I was stunned. How long would this bulimia and feeling of emptiness last?
“Hopefully,” began the mind reader, “It will stop today.”
He possessed a strange look upon his face; one that I hadn’t yet seen before. It appeared as if he was in an angry sort of trance. I also noticed his hand reach for the sword clipped to his belt.
In a flash, the warrior of all warriors unsheathed his sword and sliced open my vulnerable face. I could feel the blood oozing down my cheek as I stood up in a confused panic.
“What the hell are you doing,” I screamed. For an answer, he lashed his sword wildly at my legs, but I blocked it with my own blade. “Alpha! What is this? We are brothers!”
His only words within the next few minutes were “Put on your helmet!”
Our swords continued to clash, and after a few strikes he successfully sliced open my other cheek. I put on my helmet then. No sooner had I done so that he once again went for my head, but this time more forcefully. His continual hacking at my helmet was sending out showers of sparks that resembled fierce fireworks. Though the helmet was my protection, it was a living part of me and could still feel pain, and this hurt much worse than the slices inflicted on my man-skin. Then, our swords clashed against each other once again, and we spent the better part of a minute pushing at each other and staring each other down.
“Steer!” I cried fretfully as Alpha continued his attack. “Stop him! Please!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could perceive Steer standing there motionless. He remained silent, without the slightest hint of expression of any kind on his face.
The duel went on for a few more minutes, which seemed like an eternity to me. Not only was I feeling pain from the gashes that Alpha was continually inflicting onto my living armor, but I was also feeling every single possible negative emotion. This was the worst pain by far. Feeling confusion from my brother attacking me, sadness from the draining of hope, and fear from the wicked strikes and burning eyes of Alpha, my adrenaline suddenly kicked into overdrive, which caused me to quickly forget the air’s thickness and my body’s weakness.
As I leapt over Alpha to avoid his blade, he finally spoke again. “Why will you not strike me, Warrior? You have had plenty of chances. Retaliate! Quit running and leaping!”
I was utterly dumbfounded. Had something sinister happened to my companion? Was it the work of Omega? Would Steer turn against me as well? Or could this all have to do with the black magic that Alpha spoke of? These questions dominated my mind as I kept trying to avoid his blade and his eyes. I was actually more afraid of his stare than his sword.
“Fight back,” he shouted. “You are supposed to save Happiness. Or…perhaps Snapper was right about you after all.”
Anger bubbled out from the deepest, darkest depths of my heart. I slashed at his stomach, which he quickly avoided just enough for my blade to only lightly slice his belly. He smiled. Then, quickly flipping his sword so that he held it by the blade, he gave my face a swift bludgeon with the sword’s hilt. I staggered briefly then fell on my back.
“Excellent work, Warrior,” said Alpha as he leaned over my face. “That must have greatly confused you. I am sorry, but it was the best possible way to train you. You must be ready to do more than just defend yourself. You must learn to kill anyone if the need arises…..” He glanced to the side, apparently in deep thought. “Even me. I am sorry, friend. Your cuts will heal. Some may remain as scars until you rescue your beloved, perhaps even afterwards. But look at me. I have thousands of scars. To me, they are marks of accomplishment. Every warrior receives them in battle as well as in training. But I am mostly sorry – even deeply remorseful – for what I said about Snapper being right. I did not mean it. Not one little bit. I only wished to provoke you so that you would fight back.”
He backed away as Steer helped me up with his muzzle. I could not bring myself to forgive Alpha. His methods of training were cruel and harsh. In my opinion, he was moving much too quickly. I even wanted to stab him, but was unable to do so, only because now that the fight was over my strength was draining away once again. I could hardly stand.
It was at that very moment that it dawned on me. Alpha was right. On this day, I was weary and weak. But only if I remained stagnant, doing nothing. If I was fighting, my strength returned due to adrenaline, and also due to something unexplainable that I believe must have been a sort of magic. The black magic?
“I understand, Alpha,” I sighed, trying to breathe deeply, which was nearly impossible as I felt like I was suffocating. “You…you are only trying to help me…I forgive you. But please, just please let me rest.”
“I’m sorry, dear friend,” he replied gravely. “But you know I can’t let you do that. If you rest, you will lose your strength altogether. You must stay in motion. You must fight and become stronger so that you can eat and recover even more strength. Though you do not feel ready, I am afraid I must now show you the black magic.”
I staggered from sheer exhaustion. I would have fallen on my face and remained there had not Steer been there to catch me with his back.
“Hang on to me, brother,” said the noble bovine. “Let’s go. You are doing wonderfully.”
He helped me to walk in the direction that Alpha was walking. We followed him through the courtyard. I did not know where we were going, for I had to fight to keep my eyes open. After a while, as Alpha faded into a blur ahead of me, they remained closed for a good while. But upon opening them, I simply could not believe what was happening.
Before me were the accursed walls of death that had served as the battlefield for my duel with Snapper. I felt the sorcery immediately, and I also felt that it somehow had to do with the Omega inscriptions etched into the stones. Every letter was glowing with a bright blue hue that reminded me of the eyes of both Happiness and Snapper. Two of the bright lights were moving towards me. I could hear what sounded like chains being dragged about the ground.
“What’s going on – “ I stopped speaking abruptly. Everything became clear to me. The letters moving towards me actually were eyes. Beneath them were fangs that reeked of decay, a leathery body that smelled even worse, two fearsome clawed hands that each gripped a sword, and, in between them, a metallic cylinder that swiveled in a circular motion. Snapper was alive once again, and more evil and dangerous than ever.
“Go find your shield,” whispered Alpha. “And when you have defeated him, pull the chains out of his shell.”
I found that I could not move. It was more than just fear. My strength had been almost completely extinguished. Steer moved away from me so that I couldn’t hold onto him any longer. As I fell down, he pushed me into the deathmaze.
The undead turtle charged. I blocked a strike from his right hand sword, then jumped over the left one as it sliced towards my legs. My strength was returning ever so slightly, but not enough for me to leap very high, which is what I was longing for. After seeing Alpha defeat him, I knew that the place I needed to be to deliver the killing strike was atop his wretched shoulders. For now, however, I was confined to the earth.
Our three blades were all glowing red hot from the action. Sparks flew from his carapace and from my armor. What surprised me was that he wasn’t roaring, snarling, or making any sort of vocalization at all. His mouth hung open as if his decayed jaws were paralyzed. He looked like a lumbering, mindless monster; but he still moved very quickly and possessed an even worse light of evil in his eyes than he possessed when he was alive.
I rolled behind a wall and waited. As his heavy footsteps drew closer, I rolled silently to the next wall. Peering out from behind it, I saw his cannon begin to glow. The wall that he thought I was hiding behind, as well as the next three following it, exploded into a fiery blaze of rock like a line of dominoes rigged with dynamite.
I went around a few more walls and then crept up behind him. Suspense and adrenaline were enabling me to feel even more power surging into me. When I felt that I had the amount that I needed, I made my move and leapt to his shoulders.
I realized then two things. One was that with his two swords blocking my every strike, I couldn’t stab him like I needed to. I tried for the back of his neck, but every time I did so he either reached back and blocked my strike or threatened my existence by slashing his other blade at me. I needed my shield.
The second thing I realized was that my very shield was leaning against a wall not twenty paces away from us. As I was about to leap from his shoulders to retrieve my protection, the demon leaned backwards and fell to the ground. He was crushing me with his immense dead weight. Literally, dead weight. My sword was smashed to the earth along with my body, so I was unable to even fight back. I cursed myself for letting this happen. I did not expect such cleverness from a zombie. With my strength draining once more, as well as my oxygen supply, I began to succumb to the thoughts of hopeless defeat.
But then I remembered Happiness. With more strength than I believe I have ever or will ever possess, I heaved the foul ton of slobbering decay off of my body. As I sprung to my feet, my eyes met his wicked glare as he turned around to face me. His cylinder began to rumble and spark. I had no time for the shield. The moment I perceived the fire erupting from his chest, I grabbed the cylinder and pushed it upward with all my might so far that it went into the Kappa himself. The explosion of ember, metal, and rotting flesh sent me reeling backwards. I had killed Snapper for the second time – or so I had thought.
Half of his charred corpse remained, and it began to walk. The legs, the left arm with a sword, and the cannon itself were all still intact. But this remnant possessed no eyes to locate me, so it walked blindly away from me. I began to laugh at what the demon turtle was reduced to, but my laugh soon disappeared and was replaced with panic as I watched the monster walk slowly in circles and fire his cannon in every direction. Even with lacking the ability to aim, the swiveling cylinder fired many shots that narrowly missed me.
Remembering what I had to do, I raced towards him as his back was turned and pulled the chain that was dragging behind him. The blind force of destruction crumbled into ashes. By that time, not a single wall remained in the battlefield. Only smoke and ash. It looked like a barren wasteland, and I was alone.
Then, to my inexpressible delight, Steer trotted towards me out of the smoke.
“Once again, my friend,” he exclaimed with pride, “You have done well. This just keeps getting better and better!”
But the tone of my friend’s voice did no match the expression upon his face. He looked weary and confused.
“What’s wrong, Steer? Where is Alpha?”
Steer exhaled a deep sigh.
“He is gone, my friend. He shall meet with you later on. Now, we shall finally begin the journey.”
He walked towards the jungle. I followed him, questions spiraling within my head.

This first poem may not even qualify as poetry as it doesn’t stick to any form. Its definitely not traditional. Its basically a big metaphor, and is partially inspired by Nietzche. The infant is the everyman, and the mother is life.

WILL TO BIRTH

The infant…no, he wasn’t yet an infant, but only a fetus.

Covered in beautiful life mucous that sustained…

Created, preserved, and eventually destroyed.

Anyway, the infant(fetus) attempted a breath, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t. The walls were caving in around him.

Yes, harder and harder he tried, but he was hopelessly trapped.

Then… LIGHT! SOUND! FEAR!

He burst into the world and tried to crawl back.

But the mother smiled a sweet, sadistic smile and said,

“My child, you can go back! Yes, yes, my child, you can! But this time, through my teeth!”

This was the moment the infant discovered that he wasn’t helpless any longer.

He had eyes, ears, and hands to manipulate things to his will.

Yes, yes…above all he discovered that he possessed will. 

And with that will, still the most powerful of his assets, he commanded his mouth to spew acidic venom at the predatory mother. Before he ran, and eventually escaped, he abused her with his lips and with his harsh, newborn vocal cords.

“LIFE! LIFE! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN EATER! AN EVER SELFISH, EVER EVIL, PREDATORY EATER!”

Then, after escaping, he collapsed into a deep sleep that I believe must have lasted for eons.

 

And here’s number two, which is a real poem but was shoddily written in about two minutes.

PRETTY

Have we reached the unknown?

Like a cascade of cyclones, this breeze has blown.

Have we reached the end?

Is it hard to admit?

Or is this the beginning

Of our living legit?

So much was under shade

Beneath locks and keys

Now we’re running through the glades

Cliched but we’re free

I think hope just woke up.

She had lost a bet with luck.

But now she is standin’

With Lady Wisdom so true

And we are also standin’

I think she’s pretty too.