Friday, July 23, 2004

Artistic Licence 

It seems that I have been bitten by the writing bug recently. Poetry, short sketches, all seem to be flowing from my fingers. Here are the most recent things I've written:

A Vampire Poem (written in a forum where one posted a vamp poem, so I wrote one)

Light spilling out to the street
Dancing over the puddles of rain
A shadow stands watching
The night will never be the same

Music pounds the walls
Laughter trembles on the air
Tonight is a night for dancing
Party goers beware.

The door opens
Spitting out a stumbling man
He stops and stares across the way
At a stunning woman

Skin the color of burnished gold
A smile as broad as the sea
Hair flaxen as the sun
He thinks "Lucky me"

Approaching slowly he takes her han
dAnd leads her to a secluded place
His deire overwhelming him
For the beauty of her face

But the extasy he finds
Is not the one he sought
For as she leans to kiss his neck
His life becomes fraught.

She pulls away, licks her lips
And smiles as the blood pounds in her heart
Walking away, leaving his body behind
To wait for the next druken victim.

Haiku: (A Haiku competition is going at the in the Leaky Pen Forum)

Beach sounds are calming
Waves tied to the silver moon
I don't want to leave

Dirt stuck on my shoe
Leafs and twigs stuck in my hair
Hiking makes me tired

Chill is in the air
Sunset light moving slowly
Boy how I love life

Dusty path behind
Dirt coating my hiking boot
Boy am I tired

And this one posted by Absy I love so I am posting for you to read:

Sand gets in my suit
Rubs in all the wrong places
Beach nooky won't work

And A Charecture Sketch.

You can smell him when you walk in the room. Not an unpleasant scent. One that makes you think of working hard outside and bathing in a cool stream. Of candelight dinners and making love. He lies on the bed, one hand flung over his head, the other resting by his side. His head is turned slightly to the side, mouth open and his breath deep in sleep. A fan flicks cool air over his body, washing his smell to where you stand. Street lights outside wash a yellow light over his skin, highlighting the curves of his hips and stomach. The light plays with his body as he breathes, making patterns of light and dark. His hands are large, calloused- working hands. A scar mars one hand, an area he seems to protect in sleep. Strong arms and wide shoulders give a hint at his strength belied by his slender frame. His chest is large, from years of swimming, and it rised gently as he sleeps. A taunt stomach slopes down from the chest, and the fan stirs a small baby soft line of hair from his belly button down. Soft hair also stirs on his legs. Strong thighs, tight calfs, a man who uses his legs daily.But his true beauty is in his face. Long lashes resting on his cheek, a slight flush to his burnt honey skin. Thick cherub lips, just begging to be kissed. An angel fallen to earth to sleep.


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Pages of Note:
The Words of my bestest bud.
My Aunt's Blog

EDJ's Blog
The rabble of film reviews- cinemablend


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