Poetry/Prose/Creative Writing

[M-H-Fielding]

Hi!
Please feel free to either post your writing, or give creative advice!
I am looking for opinions on mine so that I can improve.
Don't think your writing is terrible, I'm sure it's not. Anything can be improved, and nothing is hopeless. If you have anything you would like to post, PLEASE do! I would love to meet some other writers. If you're not a writer, please feel free to let me know what you think!
Here's one of my poems:

The hardest thing for a practicing poet,
Is to open your talent to the world and show it.
Poet's bold letters from their pens fly,
But ask to see and they'll turn shy.
No one's work should be taken in jest,
And some poets think their works ain't the best.
What we fear is the utmost scorn,
To see our work tattered and torn.
So if you find a poet who shows his work,
Do not assume he's a showoff jerk.
His bravery will serve him well in the end.
You should salute that brave soul, my friend.

 

[azurbanclucker]

I enjoy writing, but I haven't really written in years unless it was a more blog-posty kind of thing. Just no time really with everything else going on. Here's something I wrote on a napkin (literally) while on vacation a few years back though.

RainSong

It's raining in the forest, a gentle, chilling fall of life-giving renewal.
Droplets of water coalesce on leaves colored gold and orange, then fall to the earth.
Much of the wood is obscured by misty wisps of cloud,
dancing to and fro, flowing where the gentle breeze leads them.
The clean smell of moist, cool pine fills the breeze, chilling the wood.
A solitary Jay calls out, his lonely cry shattering the stillness of the falling rain.
Soon enough, the trees will be claimed by the winter,
white, blanketing snows cloaking them all in silence.
The trees will slumber, waiting for the warming caress of the spring breeze,
and the return of the gentle song of the rain.

 

[TheHerbs3]

Here's a haiku:

A brown duck in spring,
is very happy and wet,
when in a puddle.

 

[azurbanclucker]

This was a series of facebook posts I made over a few days' time. It's a longer read and is more in line with a short story than a poem. See if you can figure out where we were by the end. There are enough clues scattered throughout it to tell if you have some familiarity with it.

Day 1:
Arrived at our research target area and found a suitable location to set up camp. Initial reconnaissance of the area indicates that it's very different from our home base, and should provide an excellent amount of research data. Aside from setting up, little will be accomplished today due to time constraints.

Day 2:
First full day in this strange place. There are many very tall things with green tops, and it smells like pine air fresheners. Not as hot here, but windy.

The natives here are all small, and wear some kind of uniform clothing. You can distinguish between groups though based on their festive neckwear and what appear to be some kind of numbers on one shoulder. Many of them are incredibly filthy after one day in the wild. Still no power, but there must be a cell tower nearby as I have service.

Day 3.
Windy yesterday. Probably the food the natives fed us. Walked endlessly for miles with no trace of an outlet. Phone dying, soda supplies low. This may be the en-

(Transmission lost)

Day 3 update.
Posting from a secret location. Discovered that the natives are secretly worshiping some sort of dirt deity. They're constantly filthy and get irate when you try and make them clean up. Managed to find an old car battery and some jumper wire hidden in a storeroom and an old bicycle headlamp generator. Trapped 2 squirrels and have them running in a wheel to turn the generator and charge the battery to charge my phone. Squirrels like marshmallows.

More wind in the forecast. Lunch and dinner were brutal with pasta and chili beans on the menu.

Send Pepsi.

Day 4:
The natives have discovered ranged weapons and have been blasting away at targets, in an attempt to improve their skills. They seem to have also discovered both fire and steel as well, I've seen cooking pots, and some of the smaller ones have been whittling spear points.

They sometimes come near our camp, and we have to chase them off with improvised weapons or creativity.

Going out later to find some place to get clean.

Day 4 update:
Managed to find a makeshift shower, which is good. Unfortunately, the water appears to be coming from the magma chamber in a subterranean volcano. pretty sure I lost several layers of skin to flash boiling and now know what a lobster feels like in its final seconds.

Found some magic seeds that when you heat them over a flame, they make a tasty treat. Also was able to send a search party for supplies, now have Pepsi and Dr. Pepper.

Observed some kind of mystical ceremony this evening. The locals put on funny clothes and pulled members of the crowd out to meet what I believe to be their chieftain. He was wearing a lot of feathers. They captured one of my fellows and he was also taken before their leader. We're not sure what happened, but it was evidently so traumatic that he is not able to speak at present. Hopefully tomorrow after some rest we can get some info from him.

They're coming. Must hide.

Day 5:
My colleague was able to talk again after a night's sleep, but can tell us very little about what happened to him. He's talking in riddles about ordeals and an order of some kind. We'll have to keep an eye on him and hope he isn't some kind d of planted spy or sapper.

Lunch today was some kind of local meat in a sauce that vaguely resembled BBQ, with more beans. I'm certain we'll be under a red flag warning later from the wind.

The group of "dirtlings" (as I have come to call them) that have adopted us continue to show progress in crafting, cooking, survival, and marksmanship. They still steadfastly refuse to bathe unless forced, and some of them are quite pungent.

Discovered a man wandering the forest today. Turns out he's a crew member we thought had been left behind. Somehow he ended up here with us so we're settling him in.

One of my squirrels got away so I have to trap another one to charge my phone. More later if I'm successful.

Day 6:
Many of our adopted tribe of dirtlings are showing remarkable proficiency with bows, rifles, and even shotguns. We also had a couple disappear overnight but they seem to have survived in the wilderness overnight with no ill effects.

The dirtlings have surrounded us at this point, and there seem to be several tribes of them. On our western flank we have the swinging squealers, who have tied tires in the trees and spend their day playing on them. To our east are the tree beaters, who spend their days hitting trees with sticks. To our north are the tree climbers, who remind us of the jungle cruise at Disneyland where the rhinos chase the guys up the tree. A little further to our west are the tetherdirtlings, who think its a good idea to swing on an old flagpole And rope. They must all be related, one of the words we have deciphered is "brother", mostly because they call each other that a lot. There's another word we think might be "elder", some sort of term for the older leaders of the dirtling bands.

We are having a campfire tonight and many of the dirtling tribes will attend. Tensions are running a bit high, as we do not know how aggressive they may become.

We've lost one of our group. He went on a scouting mission this morning and has not been seen since. We heard the sound of a helicopter and suspect he may have deserted.

Morale is very low, he may only be the first.


Day 6 update:
The camp fire program was unexpectedly entertaining. We had another team arrive early with their dirtlings and when comparing notes we saw a lot of common behaviors emerge, which validates our research somewhat.

Many of the dirtling tribes arrived at about the same time (approximately 15 minutes late) and offered no real reasons why. Some, but not all of the tribes performed little entertainments for us, and then we were invited for a frozen treat at their food hall to cap the evening.

We will be loading up tomorrow and returning home. I do not think we will return to this place, it is far too difficult to do proper research here. We are planning on returning with 18 of the more advanced and skilled dirtlings and will observe them further over time to see how their skills increase.

P.S.
Some of the team members have been reading my journal entries as I post them this week. I'd like to take a moment to thank them for allowing me to join them, and for their camaraderie this week. It was a rough one, but we made it through OK and I think the dirtlings had a good time.

(End of journal)

 

[Blue Raptor]

@M-H-Fielding
@Redmogur
@JacinLarkwell
@cluckmecoop7
@The-White-Elephant

If anyone is interested, you can use your writing skills to make a short story entry in the newest Short Story contests!

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

It's wonderful!

@cluckmecoop7, don't you do poems?

 

[cluckmecoop7]

Wow! That's an awesome poem!
@Lacy Duckwing - ummmmm kinda

 

[M-H-Fielding]

I enjoy writing, but I haven't really written in years unless it was a more blog-posty kind of thing. Just no time really with everything else going on. Here's something I wrote on a napkin (literally) while on vacation a few years back though.

RainSong

It's raining in the forest, a gentle, chilling fall of life-giving renewal.
Droplets of water coalesce on leaves colored gold and orange, then fall to the earth.
Much of the wood is obscured by misty wisps of cloud,
dancing to and fro, flowing where the gentle breeze leads them.
The clean smell of moist, cool pine fills the breeze, chilling the wood.
A solitary Jay calls out, his lonely cry shattering the stillness of the falling rain.
Soon enough, the trees will be claimed by the winter,
white, blanketing snows cloaking them all in silence.
The trees will slumber, waiting for the warming caress of the spring breeze,
and the return of the gentle song of the rain.

You captured the scene with your words, I feel like I'm there!

 

[Sally PB]

Boy Scout camp?

 

[azurbanclucker]

Boy Scout camp?

Bingo!