Categories » Writing

Next »
Posts
The Waltz of the Wisterian Night or The Waltz of Wisteria’s Velvet: A.D. May 14, 2019
This poem isn't complete. At least it doesn't feel that way to me at the moment. I'm trying to get back into metered poetry and this was one of my first attempts to get back into that style. This was written about a night that I was riding my bike ar (More)
05.10.19
Over spring break, I decided to comple (More)
04.11
P R O G R E S S  (or the lack of) Call (More)
03.21: Goal Setting
P R O G R E S S  Hi! By some miracle, I managed to find the writing I mentioned last week that I had deleted. Turns out, there's a revision history for your blog drafts. I also finished outlining my chapters. Here's a rough breakdown: I've div (More)
03.14(159265359)
  P R O G R E S S  Hi! I didn't realize today was March 14 until like a minute ago. A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I might sometimes blog about writing. This is going to be my first progress blog. I finished plotting last week, and, to (More)
Chapter 1 of Just Try and Stop me: A.D. May 10, 2019
This is another one of my many crazed projects. This one is a story in the vein of Sarah J Maas but in my own voice. It is sort of a blend of a lot of things, and doesn't have a particular time period. I have been told that it has better voice than m (More)
Candy Floss A.D. February 22, 2019
Greetings yet again! This is a poem that I wrote on the 22nd of February 2017, and have since come back to many many times. I was doing archery with a friend when the sky suddenly exploded with color. I literally ran around excitedly and copied down (More)
PlaceHolder: A.D. May 8, 2019
This is a special one. Sort of in the same vein to my poems Float and Before School, this is a bit of a word painting(Thanks Macy) of how I felt on a certain night. Again, if you just want to read the poem without context and just take in the piece f (More)
Cankerkiss
the scum of summer kill lies in the plot as peat and rot do lie within the bog as hidden finch that twitch when it is shot or crow that has no end in autumn fog   the stranger’s soft strewn skin is curdled cream with maggots tr (More)
Stabiae: A.D. May 2, 2019
To leap off my last post, this is another poem I wrote while in Italy. This one was at a villa in Naples overlooking Pompeii. It was owned by a wealthy family who were affected by the eruption even though they were a significant distance from Vesuviu (More)
Next »