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Tag Archives: old writing

“She Too, Wonders Why”


Umbrellas dot the square, round tables
Surrounded by chairs beneath them.
Beers sit slowly seeping condensation
From their frosted glasses as they’re
Sipped by hipsters too poor to afford
A second and forced to make the first one
Last til last call. Soon the sun will set on
Belmar and the fountain burble will fade
Until morning.

A young girl paints pictures of the flowers.
She sells them to tourists to pay for her education.
She dreams of becoming an architect,
But when her paintings fail to sell,
She grows desperate.
She has a true talent, but it will not be
Noticed by the right people until it is
Too late.
Her body will be found in her dorm
Room bath, the final dollars in
Her checking account used to buy
Not paints but painkillers and vodka.
A tragedy, but lo and behold a collector
Comes along and buys all of
Her paintings of flowers.
The money pays for her funeral and her
Mother and father’s  growing stream of

Why didn’t she call home?
Why didn’t she reach out for help from
Her parents?

Maybe only her girlfriend knows,
But no one knows that
She even exists now. The only one
Who ever cared is being buried
A four hour flight away, and the
Family wouldn’t want
Her there anyway, and so
She sits alone in the square,
Sipping a beer from a frosted glass,
Tears slowly rolling down her cheeks
To match the condensation soaking
Her coaster.

She too, wonders why.


If hell is what I
Must face, then
So be it. Eternal
Damnation is a
Small price for


Originally written 4/27/13.


These are my last steps through these halls.
This is the last night that I will spend not
Roaming, but monitoring, patrolling them.

New voices now echo forth from the doors,
And new faces, mysterious and unknown,
Peer around the corners. My time is ending.

It’s time for a new generation to take my place.
I can’t believe that my turn is over, but it’s
Time to pass the torch. Turn in my keys, clock out.

I’ve done my time, as it were. Served my sentence
And then some. I’ve been here for far too long,
Unchanging. It’s time to be like water, fluid.

These are my last days in the world that I forged.
This was a place that, once upon a time, provided
Me with the protection and stability that I sought.

I was desperate then, but I am stronger now.
Now I will seek love, freedom, and change rather
Than certainty. There are some things that are better.

Empty hallways will fill again, just as they do each
Year, an annual event that never ceases to amaze.
My part in the growth is done, my exit is stage left.

Today’s post is a poem I wrote a few years ago, originally for a poetry slam. I consider it the single best piece I wrote during my college career, and so I thought that National Poetry Month was the perfect time to share it with my current audience. This is “Gravity.”

Gravity is a bitch, but I let her have her way with me anyway.

She tries to keep me in bed every morning. I guess she likes

To keep me down, constantly. I’ve known since she first gave me her number

That it would be like this (it’s 6.67×1011, by the way—Somehow I’m

Feeling like she hasn’t been getting those texts I’ve been trying to

Send to her). I think it’s a doomed relationship, but she’ll never let me go.

I don’t even remember how long it’s been since I met her. I think I’ve

Known deep down that we’ll never be apart for long.

I suppose that her embrace is comforting.

Being too far from it can be disorienting. It’s a strange sensation.

Like I’m weightless—nothing without her touch.

It’s been a very strange relationship.

She said that she likes long walks on the beach,

But every time we’ve tried to go,

The tides come in. I don’t know what that’s all about.

She says it’s all relative.

I’m a nerd, and she knows it, but she still stays.

Some part of me hopes that she always will.

I think I’d probably fly off hurtling into space

If she ever left. It would be the breakup felt

By everyone around the world,

Even the people who don’t know me.

They’d all feel it. They’d all know.

What would they do if they found

Out? If they knew that I was the one who’d

Pushed her away? I think that they’d find

Me fairly repulsive. Yet somehow, I doubt

That they’d be in any position to do anything

About it at that point.

So I stay in this loveless relationship,

More out of the convenience of it than

Anything. It’s better for all of us that

Way, isn’t it? I mean, despite my feelings,

The attraction is oddly irresistible.

I’ll always be hers. It’s almost a crushing

Feeling of inevitability. Oh well. I’m stuck with her.






That bitch.

It’s D&D character backstory time again, folks, which means that I’m too busy/lazy to actually type up something completely new/original for your reading pleasure today (read: Skyward Sword is eating my life now that NaNo is over).

This one is for my soulknife, Alexi.

Forty years ago, there was a small group of adventurers who roamed the world of Taesos, combing dungeons and caverns and castles in far countries to gain the knowledge of ancient civilizations. A man named Dorn was one of their number, and upon his return to his home city of Arnes he married and founded a small private university in the large manor that he built with funds dicovered in his travels. It was here that he began to pore over the information that he and his friends had found. Dorn began to study alongside his students and found that with the right training, anyone could accomplish astounding deeds. His school quickly became known as a prestigious adventuring academy.

Not long after, Dorn and his wife welcomed the birth of twin sons, Jack and Alexi. In an unpleasant turn of events of which not even Dorn knows the truth, Dorn’s wife fled Arnes with Dorn’s best friend, Georg, and with Alexi, the elder twin. Dorn was left to raise Jack alone.

Alexi’s childhood was far from dull, however. Living with a wizard honed his mind. He had not the sheer varied talent of his twin, but his mind was unique in that it allowed him to shape weapons out of pure mental energy. This was the latent power that Georg, in reality a powerful illusionist, had sensed within Alexi, leading to the kidnapping.

When he reached the age of eighteen, he set forth with Georg to do battle with his long-lost brother, Jack. After searching for many months, Jack had finally stumbled upon his brother’s trail, deep in the mountains on Nyord’Wrend. Georg and Alexi slaughtered all of Jack’s companions and, in what may have been a brief moment of compassion for his brother, Alexi utilized one of Georg’s own inventions to teleport Jack out of Georg’s hands and back to Nirruna, wiping his memories of Alexi’s hiding place in the process.

Alexi remains a loyal servant to the illusions of Georg, fighting alongside others who have submitted to the will of the wizard. He now journeys across the world looking for potential new allies, making a bold statement of power with each manifestation of his mind blade. Perhaps someday he will encounter his brother, Jack, again, and be able to regain his lost years with his true family.

This just in, folks. My NaNoWriMo word count is up over 5,000.  This means that I’m on track with the goal for the first three days of November, and one tenth of the way through my requisite length. Wow. I just realized that means I only have to write nine more full chapters at this rate. I need to introduce some other characters, or make this book a lot longer than the NaNoWriMo goal… Hmmm…

Oh well. Either way, I’m making good progress, and I’ve already developed a bonus character! I’m actually quite pleased with the way things are going. I’ll keep you all up to date, fear not. In the meantime, work and the job hunt are keeping me just as busy as ever. I’m really looking forward to my next few days off. I’d like to be able to get a little ahead of the word count thing, so that I can slow down on a couple of days, if necessary. Like, you know, that holiday that’s coming up, what’s it called? Thanksgiving! Right, that’s the one.

I’ve got a decent strategy going right now. I’m carrying one of my little Moleskine notebooks, like I’ve been doing for the last year or so, and I’m doing my writing in that during the day. It’s a really convenient way to take notes and build on some things that I’ve had running around in my head since I first came up with the idea for the book back in January. I get stuff on paper, and if I feel pretty good about it, at the end of the day I type it up. I’ve still been using Word for this, despite getting in on the Scrivener beta. I think I’ll probably stick to Word for now, at least until I can get a full version of Scrivener, with a few less bugs. It’s a great program, and I’ll most likely actually even buy the software when it comes out. If you haven’t played around with it yet, I highly recommend it. The built-in tutorial is great. It’s thorough and includes as much dry humor as you’d expect from a British development team.

I’m still cranking my way through A Storm of Swords. Martin’s world maintains its grasp on me, and for good reason. Each chapter, for those of you who haven’t read any of A Song of Ice and Fire, is told from the perspective of a single character. This means that you only see little pieces of the overall action at any given time, but it compels you to keep reading so that you can get to that character’s next part. Of course, in between you have five or six other characters, all of whom are just as powerfully written. It’s genius, and I can’t wait to finish this book so that I can dive into A Feast for Crows.

Anyway, it’s early, but I’ve got an eight hour shift at work that starts in 45 minutes, and roughly 30 of that time is commute. Work work work, right? Well, I’ll be playing D&D for a few hours after that, and I have Saturday off. Best of luck to all you fellow NaNoWriMo participants out there. As the great Canadian sage, Red Green, always says, “Remember, I’m pulling for ya.”

This one is another older piece. My apologies to those of you who have read it before. I’m not trying to bore you. I’m working through some of my backlog of stuff that I’ve been meaning to post. It’s called Dealer.

I am a dealer of the most

Dangerous kind, spreading the thing

That they fear above all else.

I lurk around corners, keeping

Watchful eye on this secret stash.

I’m not particular about who comes

To me for it anyway. I’m not in it

For the money. You don’t even have

To pay. As far as I’m concerned,

Everybody needs this shit. Capital

N.E.E.D.S. They just don’t

Always know it yet. They’ll know soon

Enough, though. Eventually everybody

Comes to me. I could bring the

City to its knees. I could do that.

Or I could do one better. People

Always talk and joke about ruling

The world some day, but they

Can’t do it without what I’m pushing.

Damn, I’m good at what I do.

I can hook you up in person,

Over the telephone, man, I even

Do online orders. Just watch me

Work; I’m a wizard with this shit.

I can work wonders. Just watch me.

You know the best part? You wouldn’t

Believe how easy this is to move.

I carry everywhere I go. I

Can use anywhere and everywhere,

And boy, do I. You can too, once you

Get started. It’s easy to get addicted to,

And while it’s never a good thing to

Get hooked on what you’re pushing,

My supply is unlimited. It’ll never

Run out, and it doesn’t cost me a damn thing.

I love what I do. Life is dangerous, and I

Love to live dangerously. Call it an

Occupational hazard. People like me live

Fiercely and die quickly, but not before fulfilling

Our life’s purpose. So here I am, spreading, expanding

My customer base, as it were. That’s why you’re all

Here, right? Good. Word’s getting out. Someday you will

All be standing where I am tonight. Someday you will

Remind everyone around you of the danger of what you

Do, and the power that you wield. Someday, you will

Join me, as I paraphrase a man, a member of a group of seven

Similarly magnificent men when I say “Mister, I deal in words.”


Commissioned for duty on a ship in a Gnomish navy, Jetsam was designed for ship to ship battle and boarding parties. He quickly rose through the ranks of the other Warforged sailors and soldiers in a desire to prove his existence as worthwhile to his creators. His great dexterity, Mithral plating, and skill with a spiked chain made him feared by any foe who saw his vessel approaching. Within the first year of his “birth” in the foundries, Jetsam found himself promoted to the rank of first mate on board the flagship of his fleet.

Among the Warforged that comprised his fleet, Jetsam was fairly unique in his fondness for humanoid flair and style. He would frequently go to sea in a tricorne hat, long crimson coat, and oilskin boots. Jetsam enjoyed the expression on his opponent’s face when they realized for the first time that they were not in the presence of a human sailor. When the war ended, Jetsam learned that the world had little room for a living construct built for sea battles. Without a navy to serve in, Jetsam found himself metaphorically adrift.

After several months of wandering, providing odd services as a bodyguard or bouncer or enforcer or explorer, Jetsam encountered a band of pirates who were thrilled at the prospect of having a new hand that never needed food or sleep. Jetsam found new purpose in life, hunting around the world for treasure. Tragically, Jetsam’s captain and crew were lost following a great sea-battle. The lone survivor, Jetsam found himself adrift on an island far from his homeland, in a strange realm where none seemed to have heard his name or seen his fearsome sigil flying above the waves. Eventually, without an artificer for support and repair, Jetsam wandered into a cavern filled with towers of chests filled with gold and jewels. Stunned by this vast trove, Jetsam set himself as a watchman, in the hopes that someday another member of his loyal crew might stumble across his location. Perhaps he is there still…Rumors fly of a mysterious humanoid shape carrying an everburning torch staggering out of the ocean on moonless nights and slowly making its way back to the caves in the cliffs, though none have yet been bold enough to venture out to investigate it.