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I've decided I want to write more poems this year since for the past three years I've averaged about five poems overall, which seems a bit pathetic to me. So, anyway, it's basically all I've been doing for the last week or two and I'm not sure if it's because I'm genuinely enjoying it or because I'm just trying to avoid working on my other half-finished projects, probably a combination of both. Anyway, here are some I finished last week. I still have two or three I'm working on, one of which is very nearly finished so will definitely be done sometime soon and the other two are still just vague ideas so I'm not sure if/when they'll be completed. Also, in regards to my bigger writing endeavors, I realized that I have actually added a bit to this story, which started out basically as a way for me to compile a lot of information about Swan Dive's Beatrice in one place so that I could get a better grasp on her character but I'm starting to get really invested in it so who knows where it will actually go or how long it will be. Ideally, I would love to get up to the actual events of Swan Dive and look at them from Beatrice's perspective but I have no idea if I'll ever actually make it there.Anyway, poems now.
In the Light, You Are Mine. Honestly, the origins of this poem can be traced back about a year and a half. It's gone through three major revisions at this point, all of them entirely different from one another. I basically just took the handful of random lines I still liked from each version and re-incorporated them, changing the concept a bit each time, until I was happy with the end result. Actually, this poem was once inspired by a line from the Grammatics song, "Cruel Tricks of the Light," ("Now and every shining time/You were ghostly-eyed and mine") but you can't really tell now. I guess that's a good thing. It's more original.
The Hallway. I wish I could have come up with a more interesting title but, alas, I couldn't think of anything more fitting. But, really, that's the only part of this I don't like. If you can believe it, this one was inspired by a truly terrible poem I wrote way back in 2003 when I was, what, thirteen or fourteen? Anyway, it used such compelling phrases as "herbal shampoo" and "musky cologne" but I liked the title - Out of Touch - and wanted to do it justice now that, in my opinion, my writing is about a thousand percent improved. My favorite part of this one is the last three lines. I find them really quite devastating and beautiful and I don't care if that sounds a bit conceited because it's true.
Bus Stop. This one was very, very loosely inspired by January. Basically, I decided I hate that story now but like some of the description and imagery and the general mood of it. So I stole a few very small bits from it and transplanted them into an entirely new concept. Also, this was my attempt to write something other than a sad love poem, which are all I seem to be writing lately despite the fact that they relate to my own life in absolutely no way.
Now, here, have some Sims!
In the Light, You Are Mine. Honestly, the origins of this poem can be traced back about a year and a half. It's gone through three major revisions at this point, all of them entirely different from one another. I basically just took the handful of random lines I still liked from each version and re-incorporated them, changing the concept a bit each time, until I was happy with the end result. Actually, this poem was once inspired by a line from the Grammatics song, "Cruel Tricks of the Light," ("Now and every shining time/You were ghostly-eyed and mine") but you can't really tell now. I guess that's a good thing. It's more original.
The Hallway. I wish I could have come up with a more interesting title but, alas, I couldn't think of anything more fitting. But, really, that's the only part of this I don't like. If you can believe it, this one was inspired by a truly terrible poem I wrote way back in 2003 when I was, what, thirteen or fourteen? Anyway, it used such compelling phrases as "herbal shampoo" and "musky cologne" but I liked the title - Out of Touch - and wanted to do it justice now that, in my opinion, my writing is about a thousand percent improved. My favorite part of this one is the last three lines. I find them really quite devastating and beautiful and I don't care if that sounds a bit conceited because it's true.
Bus Stop. This one was very, very loosely inspired by January. Basically, I decided I hate that story now but like some of the description and imagery and the general mood of it. So I stole a few very small bits from it and transplanted them into an entirely new concept. Also, this was my attempt to write something other than a sad love poem, which are all I seem to be writing lately despite the fact that they relate to my own life in absolutely no way.
Now, here, have some Sims!
