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Excellent Writer's Resource - Urbis dot com! [10 Nov 2005|07:42pm]

[ mood | excited ]

Urbis.com, is a free, carefully structured workshop community with a mission to expose writers from around the world to literary agents and publishers in New York City. It's a great website for getting feedback on your work, with a quality review system that really works! It even offers a variety of privacy options for those who don't want their work viewable by just anyone on the 'net.

There's a a live journal community for Urbis users here - urbis_writers , so join Urbis and join the community.

If you want to take a closer look at how the site works, check out my Urbis portfolio.

- thoughts -

More Please [21 Feb 2005|02:14am]

[ mood | enthralled ]

excuse me
but my packing
has been delayed
due to my pressing need
to cum on your stomach

forgive me
i'm at a gain for words
and they just wont stop
or more like spilling
like some juice
on the floor
you find hard to ignore

but ignore me
or at least don't look me in the eye
i'm not a level-headed guy
my thoughts they sabotage and lie
full of sky-diving cries
that don't realize
or deny

whatever the case
you must love me
and then love me more
- thoughts -

Paradox [10 Feb 2005|07:50pm]

[ mood | thoughtful ]

Warning: heavy

Read more...Collapse )

- thoughts -

[31 Jan 2005|12:12am]


- thoughts -

Forge Me [29 Jan 2005|05:04am]

[ mood | crazy ]

distract me
i'm about to take a plunge
and if you cannot fix me
i will do my best
but my best never seemed to fit
too tight or dry or salty

melt me
and mix me with normal things
like carrots and onions
it still wont taste right
cook me until i've evaporated
still too spicy or chewy or raw

clean me
wash the wounds right off
and if you cannot cleanse me
i'll just have to be dirty
but that never seemed to fit me
too sticky or heavy or ugly

spell me
with all the letters of the alphabet
and if those aren't enough
create some new ones
but new things grow old
become too needy or trendy or pale

forge me
like a signature in blood
dripping from my wrists
nailed to your heart
pushed in hard and not budging
too stuck or hard or stubborn
- thoughts -

The Truth in Passing [30 Nov 2004|01:43am]

[ mood | exhausted ]

tears were streaming down her cheeks
but they always do
she has to break to let me know
her losing battle to tears
is what it takes to let me know

and today he’s the one who is enough
but what does tomorrow hold?
and I’m strong enough now
to tell him I don’t need him
I let myself know

I’m the only one to count on
because I can count the love that passes by
I’m the only one to count on
because I can count the days that pass me by
I’m the only one to count on
because everything else can pass me by

my mother’s in the hospital
and I am here alone
wondering if I need her heart attack
to let me know
her 95% clogged artery
to let me know

and in that comes a burden
feeling as though you’re necessary
tending to give it all away
draining myself for a theory of greater good
putting myself into people
who either will not let me in
or will devour me whole

in the end I have learned it is good to know

I’m the only one to count on
because love passes by
I’m the only one to count on
because days pass by
I’m the only one to count on
because everything else passes by

this is what I know of myself
and no; you cannot count on me
I’ve felt the cost of being devoured
I’ve felt the itch of refusal

I’ve decided
I’m the only one to count on
everything else will pass me by
4 - thoughts -

[19 Oct 2004|08:23pm]


I am new to this community. (How I dispise an opening like this, but alas, I can think of nothing else) I am here for the same reason I would imagine you are: I want to express myself, to write and to be heard.
For my "initiation" I offer this poem:
Genre- trying to copy the great Romantics
Characters- Keats and I
Setting- In my mind
Form- Poetry
Other- This is based on Ode To a Nightingale, Ode on a Grecian Urn and Ode on Melancholy by Keats.
Read more...Collapse )

- thoughts -

A Real Boy Can Dream [22 Sep 2004|09:56pm]

[ mood | contemplative ]

Pinocchio smiles woodenly
carved to be the perfect child.
(See how he bends so easily to our will?
Moves only as we deem appropriate.)
How we all applaud the performance
and appreciate not the puppet
but the one who pulls his strings.

Pinocchio, backstage dreams
of finding scissors
dropped (carelessly
from pocket or purse)
of taking their sharp surgical edge
to remove himself from captivity.

Pinocchio, homicidal toy on the edge
would creak (barefoot
unmindful of splinters) across floorboards
sharp steel gleaming in moonlight
(he'd wait for a moonlit night
mostly for effect)
find Gepetto asleep in bed
gray hair silvery in the shine
leap onto his chest
scream mere inches away from his
pale old man's face
"I'm not your bitch anymore,
Papa! I got no strings on me."

Pinochio, long-nosed growing
longer hope becoming
as he realizes he doesn't
in the blue fairy anymore (did he really
ever?) and anyway
the opportunity would be lost
because he's more than sure
only real boys would have the balls
to cut themselves free.

- thoughts -

[13 Sep 2004|07:09pm]

1 Muse icon:

Comment & Credit if taken :)

- thoughts -

And now, a poem that's a follow-up to "Elizabeth's Prayer" [02 Sep 2004|01:14pm]
[ mood | artistic ]

*Here's a poem that is a follow-up to my debut poem: "Elizabeth's Prayer" so, enjoy*
"The Little Harp Girl" poem by me

As I walk towards you
Sweet Elizabeth, you and your harp there
In the clear moonlight
Now, you go on
And play your harp
and I'll be your audience
Just let me listen to your lovely sounds

For you are the little harp girl
forever flying in a heartbeat
like a beautiful angel come to life
that you give us such pleasent dreams
that we would face tomorrow

Now, let me close my eyes tonight
cause I can imagine you as a angel
now, I hear those lovely harp sounds
Like in my mind
Oh, how you shine like the morning sun!

Cause you are the little harp girl
We know that your love so true
In all you do
I want to hear your harp
play forever in the starry night sky
with you.

Poem by David, copyrighted by me.

- thoughts -

Short entry......very short......... [16 Aug 2004|01:36pm]
[ mood | artistic ]

Well, this is a very short entry, I just wrote a new poem about the 1950's jet fighter interceptor F-104 Starfighter that I actually became an expert on.....

I'll write more later.

- thoughts -

Might be publishing my debut novel, anytime soon..... [13 Aug 2004|10:48am]
[ mood | Still hoping. ]

Well, next week, I might be publishing my debut novel, "Red Leaf Rising". For those, who haven't heard about it, it's about a Canadian Mountie named Adrian Smart who chases a escaped polygamist named Seamus Dolley, from British Columbia in Canada to Salt Lake City, Utah with the help of Salt Lake City Police detective named Hugh Carter who helps him find Seamus Dolley, who later kidnaps and holds a 13 year old girl hostage saying that she is his "second wife" but in the ending, Adrian Smart and Hugh Carter finally arrest Seamus Dolley and the 13 year old girl, named Katherine is freed from Seamus's grasp...And the novel has a happy ending.

What do you think? What does the novel remind you of?

From David.

- thoughts -

1st novel about Adrian Smart finished...... [22 Jul 2004|01:57pm]
Well, I have completed my debut novel "Red Leaf Rising" about the Canadian Mountie, Adrian Smart chasing Seamus Dolley all over Salt Lake City, Utah from Manitoba, Canada and it is quite creative, so, I invite you all to view it sometime!

From David.
- thoughts -

Some poetic ideas..... [30 May 2004|12:31pm]
Now, since I'm out of poetic ideas to pay tribute to, so, I'm just wondering.....If there is any missing or formerly missing child that YOU want me to write a poem about, let me know.
(I don't charge anything with my poems)

From David.
- thoughts -

[05 May 2004|10:34pm]
[ mood | excited ]

Just got off the visit with me mentor and I might be getting interviewed by the news about my poem "Elizabeth's Prayer", now, 5 radio stations wanna interview me on their shows.
So, thats what's up with me!

from David.

4 - thoughts -

Pain is a Pillby Christine San Jose [22 Apr 2004|12:47pm]

[ mood | enthralled ]

Pain is a Pill
by Christine San Jose

What is pain?
Pain is a pill

Pills we keep on

having enough of it
overdosin on it
til it's all gone
til we're all gone

starting to crave the bite
looking for more of it
make us feel alive

if you feel it
if you live it
if you love it
you are alive

when you dont
you gone
all gone

written in the style of beat writings such as Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou

4 - thoughts -

[30 Mar 2004|11:55pm]

[ mood | good ]

Greetings! Since I am new to the community, I believe an introductory post is in order.

*clears throat*

I am Syrene, a 14-year-old Filipina who was born to write. I'm not saying I'm extraordinarily talented or anything like that; it's just that I've been writing for as long as I can remember. I write mostly stories and poems, as well as a few songs here and there. My favorite themes are fantasy, angst, love, evil, heartbreak... let's just say that writing unleashes the "dark" side of me. I hate doing essays, unless it's about a subject I can really expound on. When it comes to other people's works, my pet peeves are bad spelling and grammar and "perfect" heroes who never do anything wrong.

Why did I join this community, you ask? I want to receive constructive criticism for the works that I will post here, as well as interact with other writers and comment on their creations. Hopefully, I'll be able to improve my skills and pick up some useful tips.

Okay, guess I'll end here. Take care, everyone. Peace out!!!

4 - thoughts -

Just got published in national newspapers...... [22 Mar 2004|08:30am]
I just got myself published in newspapers and my top poem, "Elizabeth's Prayer" was selected as the 'top poem for the month of April of 2004". And you know, several people want to put me on a fan website and also to promote it.

Just thought I tell you all.

From David.
1 - thoughts -

promised postings of writing on self mutilation... [08 Mar 2004|08:38pm]

WARNINGCollapse )
4 - thoughts -

I was driving around making up songs in my head [06 Mar 2004|03:39pm]

[ mood | chipper ]

Singing to myself, humming my own tune, as I often do when alone. This came into my mind, though I am sure the original was better, I still really like the concept.


Time out
Do over
Start this
All Again
I am sorry
Didn’t mean it
So lets time out
Do it over
This time
I will be
So much more
Careful then before
Please just
Don’t you leave

Remember when
We were young
The world was
But a game
We could simply
Smile and say
Time out, Do over
Now we have grown
Forgot the simplicity
In letting things go
I wish I had never hurt you
I wish you had never hurt me

Time out
Do over
Start this
All again
I am sure if
We can find
That love inside
All over again
If we simply
Time out
Do over
Start again
From the beginning
When love grew
And it blossomed
And clouds did
Not block the sun

I remember
When raindrops
Meant time to sing
And time to splash
To celebrate
The break in heat
And not viewed as
The end of warmth
How I wish
This was as easy
As being a kid
Once again

Time out
Do over
Could you try
Just one more time

- thoughts -

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