|More Journal Entries|
Three YearsOn October 31st Relativity will turn 3 years old. Actually, it's a bit older than that, considering it was "born" a year and a bit before that. But it will be three years since we first started publishing the series. Last year I made a huge deal of the anniversary, with all kinds of special art and a feature. While I don't have the time, or finances, to do something on-par this year, I had planned a low-key celebration with a few art pieces and maybe an extra story. But recently, I decided to skip it. I am so proud of the series. I feel we are at our best point story-wise and writing-wise, ever. However, I see interest in the series dropping. That, coupled with IRL stuff that is kinda pulling me down, it makes it hard to feel celebratory. Anyhow, this is not a death sentence or anything. The stories will still go on. In fact, Jim and I had a mini-date night last night where we worked on plotting through Book 9. It was neat. And we simply love the story too much to stop. However, I guesThree Years by mirz-alt
I was someone else...before I found I had the power to shape syllables.I was someone else by beccastargalactica
Anyway, I'm taking a course on poetics, and there's this guy, Marvin Bell. He has said some pretty impressive things when it comes to poetry. Here are some of my favorites, from a long, long list.
8. Try to write poems at least one person in the room will hate.
9. The I in the poem is not you but someone who knows a lot about you.
14. Every free-verse writer must reinvent free-verse. [I love this one!]
15. Prose is prose because of what it includes; poetry is poetry because of what it leaves out.
19. You need nothing more to write poems than bits of string and thread and some dust from under the bed.
24. The dictionary is beautiful; for some poets, it's enough.
Ahh, don't you just love this mysterious Marvin Bell?
My summer is going lazily, swimmingly, tearfully. Lots of ups and downs and days spent staring at the ceiling of my new apartment. I got a job as a pre-k teacher, but that doesn't
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 12Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 12 by BrandonHill
Lyman took his leave as quickly as he arrived, knowing that we would not be far behind. I, however, had been left quite shaken from the suddenness of events. Derek and I had been in physical contact all of the previous evening and throughout the day as we slept, and with the exception of the time we’d shared our mutual dark pages of the past, I had never know him to have been so calm. So serene were his thoughts, in fact, that I believe that if I had asked him to finish the deed he began with me before his courage fell, he would have, in spite of his discomfort, just to make me happy. But the second we heard Lyman’s words, it shattered that admittedly fragile peace as if it were no more substantial than any thin pane of glass. And it was agony for us both. Though he maintained his outward decorum, Derek’s heart was now anything but calm. At Lyman’s devastating words, my mind swallowed a torren
Lay of Runes: Sky Treader previewLay of Runes: Sky Treader preview by ML-Larson
Thor found Loki in bed. He always seemed to find Loki either there or under the forecourt ash tree, unless he was hiding altogether. Sometimes, Loki would hide for what seemed like months, disappearing and reappearing as the mood took him.
Loki hardly looked up as Thor burst into the room with his bearskin travelling bag slung over his shoulder. Loki had spent far too much time alone, and it was time someone put a stop to that, Thor decided. He had an ancient book in his hands, which he made a point of not looking away from as Thor dropped his travelling bag loudly to the floor.
“Oh, you are in here today,” Thor said happily. “Good. I was worried I might run out of places to search.”
“Do you need something, Thor?” Loki asked. “The stables are outside, where they’ve always been.”
“So you do know where they are. I was beginning to think I might have to show you, in case you forgot.
DELIVERANCE ::: Chapter 2The grand castle in Cartigo, the capital city of Cierith, stood high against the full moon and cast a heavy shadow across the city. The forest surrounding the city whispered eerily throughout the night, and the townspeople bolted their doors shut in fear of the soldiers who patrolled the streets looking for an excuse to arrest someone. The man responsible for this tyranny, on the other hand, sat comfortably on his stolen throne and ruled the land with an iron fist.DELIVERANCE ::: Chapter 2 by BrittanyComeaux
His hair was as black as his heart, as was his right eye; his left eye was whitened from blindness. The long scar that stretched from his forehead, across the left eye, and down his cheek, was the very reason for his blindness. No one knew for sure how he received the scar, but then again, few people wanted to know. His sharp facial features gave him a fierce and threatening look that even the toughest and bravest warriors feared.
Bogdan Dracnov was his name, and on that night, he sat on the throne and gazed proudly down upo
DELIVERANCE ::: Chapter 1Crystal awoke with a start from a troubling dream that had been reoccurring every night for several weeks. In the dream, she always saw an enormous shadow and a blood red glow in the sky. Every night the terrifying creature wreaked havoc on the land, brutally killing everyone in its path.DELIVERANCE ::: Chapter 1 by BrittanyComeaux
The part that frightened Crystal the most was that the shadow seemed to look directly into her eyes. Its eyes were blood red like the sky, and when she looked back at them, it seemed that the cold whisper of death whispered her name. The dream always ended with a red beam shooting straight into the sky, causing the earth to shake violently.
Crystal came back to reality and looked above her headboard through the window. Even in her hazy, dreamy state, she could still barely make out the sound of a light winter rain tapping on the dirty glass. She could see that it was very early morning, but she decided not to go back to sleep for fear of the dream haunting her again. She sat up and with a snap of her
supernovayou called her supernovasupernova by mismatched-misfits
because she shone the brightest.
you claimed her laugh lit up entire planets
and sailors were guided home by the twinkle in her eye.
she was supposedly the center of your solar system;
your world revolved around her very being.
until she exploded
and the light you lived by went out for good.
pray for memy body is a prison,pray for me by mismatched-misfits
and i'm holding the key in my hands.
freedom is potentially right there.
but i'm too afraid to open this lock.
this is stockholm syndrome at its finest.
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 19Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 19 by BrandonHill
Counting our protracted bath -It is a good thing that our skin does not prune from prolonged immersion-, it took Derek and I a full hour and a half after Deb’s communiqué to exit the hotel room.
To be more specific, I was the one who first emerged in that time frame, and to more than a couple of gazes and emotions that ranged from playfully shrewd to mildly annoyed. Nevertheless, it turned out that my “distraction” had provided more than enough time for the clan to pack up and prepare for a rapid departure, leaving all present with time to occupy themselves with idle chitchat and a few smoking sessions, but with everyone standing conspicuously about Lyman’s now derelict trailer.
“The boss gonna be long?” Wadih asked as he came to my side. He sounded understandably anxious; he was just as eager to get back on the road as
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 16Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 16 by BrandonHill
In spite of my exhaustion, I still had to sit through Deb’s lengthy, more detailed retelling of her forced involvement of Lothos’s machinations, since by the time we arrived back at the caravan, the news of what had transpired in the trailer at the rear was common knowledge. The blood from the officers had been procured, and they were now resting in their vehicles to wake up none the wiser. And now we stood as a group listening to Deb spin the untold story.
“And what about the police that tried using us for target practice?” Randy asked after Deb had brought her story to a close.
“Yeah, and who sabotaged our blood supply?” Benjamin added. “Was it you ... I mean, the puppeteer chick?”
“She kept control of me only because she was on standby, as far as I could tell,” Deb explained. &
Dreaming to be FreeWill I only beable to fly in my dreams?Dreaming to be Free by xHardwirex
Are my dreams the only place where I can be me?
The only place where I can be free?
Are my Dreams the only place where I won’t be a disappointment to her?
Am I only capable of dreaming about flying next to her?
Rainbow Dash, I dream to fly with you!
The door to the doctors office opened with ominous creek causing Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo to look up from their idle conversation. Dr. Clean Bandage walked in with a clipboard in his mouth. With an uneasy look on his face he meandered over to the chair that sat across the room from the two pegasi. He pulled the stool to him when he got to it and sat up on it. While holding the clipboard in one hoof he skimmed over the paper’s contents momentarily and then looked at the orange mare.
“Ms. Scootaloo, I regret to inform you, you will never beable to fly.” he said as sympathetically as he could.
“What!?” Scootaloo shouted.
“Doc, are you sure?” Rainbow Dash
Forgive MeI'm tired. Why are you coming in so late in the night?Forgive Me by redpinkandwhite
What is it that you want from me, my son? An apology?
Oh, that's what you want, then? An apology for my actions so many years ago?
There is no way I can apologize for what happened. You were already torn from my arms. You were already stolen off. You were already reared by another. No mere words I speak now will be able to undo that. Nothing I can do will bring you back into my arms.
How could I ever apologize for doing something so egregiously wrong?
I left you behind.
I left you behind!
I didn't mean to. Of course I didn't mean to! You were our boy who would grow into our son. Our precious baby.
Once the Great War started, once the blood of our brothers began to guise our true purpose, my priorities began to shift in the wrong direction. I could not think evenly when our--my--people, those whom I had sworn to protect until my dying breath, were being slaughtered. They became the priority.
I had to evacuate them. Y
Demonic ButterflyDemonic Butterfly by DawnArdent
Those who don't get into the habit of dying frequently wither inside - and death comes all at once to finally free them from their fear.
- Dreamer's Handbook
Its wings laced with the shimmer of demonic energies, the butterfly flittered not-so-innocently toward the rabid priest. With a strong, unnatural push, it flew inside the frothing mouth and continued down the windpipe. The possessed human started coughing, but the obstruction in his airway remained lodged, as if held there by an invisible hand.
Unlike other demonic entities, Rremine learned to control the rage in her eons of existence. She didn't forsake it, of course, but she preferred to express her aggression with refined elegance rather than clumsy brutality.
Guiding the butterfly from the overgrown park in the abandoned city all the way to the edge of the desert required patience that not many of her kind exhibited. But, she enjoyed gliding her consciousness over the urban jungle - so much life, so much strife, yet so little
Eternal SeptemberEternal September by DawnArdent
Some animals sacrifice themselves for the good of their group and species. Others do the reverse.
- The Bad Stuff, Dreamer's Handbook
John materialized on top of a tall cliff. It wasn't a teleportation spell - his consciousness could surely handle the in-between places. He sat down on a nearby rock.
Such a tranquil view. The local horizon and the fractally recurring lush vegetation soothed him. John occasionally brought his pupils here; perspective helps with thinking.
Despite the view, he gazed inward. Unlike many who reacted to the height with a love-hate kind of fear, John saw the height as a representation of distance he felt within his own inner being.
On one end of the spectrum was his analytical self, almost sterile of all emotions. John owed his survival to it, yet such mental clarity required the sacrifice of almost all else. Since his students knew only this side, they called him 'Mr. Smith' - his preference for tailored suits only reinforced the stereotype.
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 14Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 14 by BrandonHill
I managed to hew out a serious moment in the midst of my elation in order to teach Derek how to use his Jewel for tracking. I thought he would be a bit rusty with his skills, but clearly, I had been wrong. He caught on quickly to my instructions, and was soon able to lock on to Joe’s fading trail.
He kissed me one last time before leaving with Lyman and Grace in Joe’s trailer. Wadih took command of Derek’s RV and I rode shotgun with him as our team soon departed for their blood hunt. But for the first hour, and perhaps for the first time not around Derek, my mind was anywhere but the mission.
I was still there, in Derek’s room, in his RV. And it was only Derek and me, locked in our kiss, keeping our lips pressed to each other’s for as long as time would allow, losing ourselves in each other’s thoughts. I felt his hands
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 13Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 13 by BrandonHill
I might have known that things wouldn’t be quite so easy, even after Derek outlined his plan. Some concerns were assuaged; he and I could both feel this in the crowd, but there were some whom I supposed were career pessimists, or, as Lyman so eloquently put, “equal opportunity bitchers,” like Marie-Laure. Once she realized that she couldn’t turn the crowd against me, she began to complain about the very object of my assignment.
“We should have left the baby at a church, or near a police station,” she said. “Humans would’ve been able to take care of her for a little while, and she’d be out of our hair.” But Derek had been quick to shut her down.
“So you’d prefer to be responsible for abandoning one of our own,” he said, with no shortage of impassioned indignation, “running the potential risk
Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 9Double-Cross My Heart - Chapter 9 by BrandonHill
***AS ALWAYS, PLEASE READ THE NOTIFICATION IN CHAPTER 1 BEFORE READING!***
The next night was a return to the unpleasant, unfinished business that Derek and I could only temporarily forget about. And we were both aware that this evolution in our relationship would complicate things somewhat in that business. But it was something we knew would not be without its problems.
I envy the fact that humans can often disguise their dalliances; just simple discretion about where one went and a simple bath after the act, and most are none the wiser. Of course, we were not embarrassed by what we had done. Even as I woke up to Derek’s voice softly wishing me a good evening, followed by his even softer kiss ... and when we indulged ourselves in that simple act for a bit longer than perhaps we should have, I knew with perfect clarity that he loved me, and was not at all ashamed. Of course, there
Race Among Race'sRace Among Race'sRace Among Race's by KelaLewis-Morin
Racism will always be a complex and hazardous topic.
It is something that is deeply implanted within our logic.
It may be expressed in the form of a humorous joke.
Or may be intentionally announced in order to provoke.
Because they know that it is guaranteed to get a reaction.
And we impulsively give them that much needed satisfaction.
Somehow we feel the need to defend our specified skin colour.
We fight fire with fire to defend our heritage with misguided honour.
That's why racism can never be vanquished or become extinct.
It is how the world works and even if we don't say it, we will always think
How the colour of another person's skin affects their general demeanour.
Even though the colour of a person's skin is simply just a miniscule feature.
Even in jest we are giving this taboo topic the oxygen it needs to survive.
Equality is nothing but a well rehearsed illusion, which will never be truly alive.
The Racial EquationThe Racial Equation.The Racial Equation by KelaLewis-Morin
We are all born from the same =.
÷ by colour, shade and tone.
X by the errors of the past.
Only +'s to the difficulty life today.
UtopiaUtopiaUtopia by KelaLewis-Morin
I raise my head and tilt it towards the skies.
Open my imagination and close my eyes.
Envision a place where I would rather be.
As far away from any judgmental eye that can see.
A place where all my dilemmas become obsolete.
Free from my troubles and the expanding concrete
Confinement that I am forced to exist in.
A place where it doesn't matter if you don't fit in.
A place where nothing but a smile is required.
Where I can think and write to my heart's desire.
A place free from any physical and mental disposition.
Free from the conflicting and persuasive power of religion.
A place where there are adjustable weather conditions.
Where there is no need to enforce any laws or restrictions.
A place where everyone can do exactly what they wanted.
Where everyone would feel appreciated, accepted and wanted.
A place where money is just an undefined and unwritten word.
Where it is promised no natural or manmade disaster will ever occur.
A place that even the man upstairs would speak high
HerstoryHer-storyHerstory by KelaLewis-Morin
I can't describe to you how much I love her.
I actually feel nauseous just at the thought of her even thinking of another.
In all my short life I never even thought I would ever discover.
A woman that I would be proud to name as my baby's mother.
I know that if I were to hypothetically loose everything, we would still have each other
And it is my chest only that she will caress under the cover.
Of course we are bound to argue and I will occasionally confront her.
Although I might not say it, I might even imagine her being someone else's lover.
And it's because of my insecurity and paranoia I end up making her suffer.
I'm just so used to everything going wrong sometimes I forget there is a book underneath every cover.
But the books I have read and heard about have forced me to think twice and not even bother.
They teach me to remain loyal to my masculine nature and become the perpetually lusting hunter.
That cares only about himself and disregards all others.
However that is n
the only godEating amphetamines,the only god by sunshinegypsy
like candy from your fingers, always your fingers
in the chair by the window,
always waiting for the sun to set, for the
slow creep of time to bring your voice
I will race you downhill, I will
meet you there, below the dark,
I will tell my secrets to strangers, wonder when
you will break,
break me open with your knowing fingers,
not the neighbours, the nurse asking me if I am
feeling, anymore, the girl behind the counter
at the drugstore, her kind hands over mine,
If you can count my ribs,
will you love me, or stay, the
whispering to each other
in the night.
Rainy August Bank HolidayI could only ever have fallen in love with you in August,Rainy August Bank Holiday by Anarkhos
when all the world is overseas, and unable to say
no no no no no no no until I stick two fingers to the world,
and do you anyway,
or worse, say 'oh Bella' and make me halve my heart.
It could only ever have been on a rainy bank holiday weekend in August,
the two of us tangled in the sheets,
hearing the rain on the windowpanes and snuggling closer together.
Only on a day like this could a heart be so completely
It could only ever have been you, my love, to capture my heart,
and steal my every breath. Your red-gold hair, sea blue eyes
and the way you bite your lower lip.
Your cheeky grin, hiding all those lies you told, and proving me
a weak-kneed fool.
Yes, all it takes is a rainy bank holiday weekened in August,
a girl and a boy, and a soul is sold for the price of an hour,
a long eternal hour.
And it is worth it.
The Last SunriseThe Last SunriseThe Last Sunrise by Ravenwolfe0
Rough Draft 1
The sunrise that morning was beautiful rising above the horizon with first a hint of red growing ever so slowly into orange. The mountains standing in the distance between the dawn and myself was the most wondrous I had ever seen. The Pain had begun with the first glimmer of morning and spread as the sun rose. The forest below the mountains glittered with the emerald sparkling of dew-spattered greenery of spring. The pain had spread throughout my body by that time and I was writhing in agony while watching this most beautiful of sunrises. It spread even further highlighting the grasslands past the forest, the pain was so intense my clothes were smoldering due to the reaction of the suns rays with my body. I was smoldering, blistering, my skin was beginning to bubble because the fluids of my body were boiling. Then the sun hit me full on with it's cleansing radiance. The agony was so unspeakable I thought it would never end. My flesh began to burn
|These are poetry (and some short stories/prose/etc) magazines that I have submitted work to personally:|
The Prose-Poem: www.prose-poems.com/
The Bicycle Review: www.thebicyclereview.net
Hobo Camp Review: hobocampreview.blogspot.com
Brevity Poetry Review: brevitypoetryreview.blogspot.c…
Bong is Bard: bardisbong.blogspot.com
Cascadia Review (Limited to those in the Cascadia Region, USA): cascadiareview.org/
The Neglected Ratio: theneglectedratio.wordpress.co…
Mas Tequila Review: themastequilareview.wordpress.…
Los Angeles Review: redhen.org/losangelesreview/su…
Wild Goose Poetry: wildgoosepoetryreview.wordpres…
Your Daily Poem: yourdailypoem.com/page/guideli…
News Review: www.newsreview.com/sacramento/…
New Verse News: comments.deviantart.com/1/3423…
The Barefoot Review: www.barefootreview.org/
Oragami Poems Project: www.origamipoems.com
This Literary Magazine: www.thiszine.org
Fried Chicken and Coffee: www.friedchickenandcoffee.com/
Surreal Grotesque: www.surrealgrotesque.com/
The Junk Lot Review: thejunklot.blogspot.com/ - Believed to be defunct.
The Legendary: www.downdirtyword.com/
The Missing Slate: themissingslate.com/
GR@WL!X: grawlixpoetry.blogspot.com - Believed to be defunct.
Prairie Schooner: prairieschooner.unl.edu/submis…
New Letters: www.newletters.org/submissions…
Mannequin Envy : mannequinenvy.com/submissions.…
Third Wednesday: www.thirdwednesday.org/submiss…
The Blue Jew Yorker: www.thebluejewyorker.com/submi…
From East to West: fromeasttowestbv.com/submissio…
Read This: www.readthismagazine.co.uk/
The Susquehanna Review (for undergrads): sureview.wordpress.com/
The Whitefish Review: www.whitefishreview.org/index.…
Verandah Literary Journal: www.deakin.edu.au/arts-ed/vera…
Alaska Quarterly Review: www.uaa.alaska.edu/aqr/
American Literary Review: www.engl.unt.edu/alr/
American Poetry Review: www.aprweb.org/
The Apple Valley Review: www.applevalleyreview.com/
The Junk Lot Review: thejunklot.blogspot.com/
The Legendary: www.downdirtyword.com/
The Missing Slate: themissingslate.com/
vox poetica: voxpoetica.com/
List of publishers who accept online submissions: andromeda.rutgers.edu/~lcrew/p…
Poets&Writers Magazine online list of Literary Magazines (you can sign up for it through email or order print copies - it has valuable resources, including conferences, workshops, grants and contests). www.pw.org/magazine
Super mini chapbooks - Origami Poems: www.origamipoems.com
Events BoardClub Events:October 2014: Second Spring Contest hosted by the-haiku-clubA list of Eastern style publications, put together by
And check out our own SadisticIceCream's journal for more options! sadisticicecream.deviantart.co…
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