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paul101
Joined: Mar 26, 2007
Posts: > 500
From: first to last
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brilliant
I don't wanna sleep
I don't wanna dream
'cause my dreams don't comfort me | |
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SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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what if we all signed up for blogger then posted the poems, stories etc on a blog then in the main posts i could have links to the storie blogs and chatergorize them...???
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SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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I and sirhackalot may have a solution if we work together, soo bear with us whilst we set up an ftp server...
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deluded
Joined: Sep 14, 2005
Posts: > 500
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Thanks for the kind comments guys, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm hoping there'll be more contributions. I've still got a couple more, but some are quite raw and unpolished.
@SE4NICK, I really appreciate the effort that you and sirhackalot are putting in to find a suitable outlet for us. I am a little concerned about plagiarism, to be honest. I know I'm not all that good at this stuff, but I really do hope due credit would be given if anyone does take stuff from this thread. 
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. |
SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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My thoughts exactly !
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parsnip
Joined: Oct 26, 2004
Posts: 386
From: England
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we had to continue this poem as a story so here is my attempt:
So here I am once again. The cold grey walls seem to welcome me as the rusted iron door slams behind me, locking me into my new home. Memories of my past achievements come to me as I look around. My home is just as I left it, the small unyielding bed, the compact en-suite bathroom and even the same roommate, Jeremy. Him and I talk for a while about good times we’ve had in the past. He tells me I’ll fit in well with the new crowd, I hope they like me. He asks me why I am back so soon and I tell him that I felt the need for another Holiday. As I slowly tune out of the conversation I vaguely hear Jeremy give an excuse to leave, I nod in his direction and a powerful feeling seems to fill me as my eyes search around the room. I notice a stain on the wall, just underneath the small blocked window letting through a pittance of light, following the light draws my eyes to some marks on the wall, scratched deeply and reflecting the light. 47 weeks by my count. I think about the design of the cell, it is similar to most cells I have been in although I think it is much more roomy than the others. The walls of meter-thick concrete and the once highly pol-ished but now rusted door contain me, the gaps in the door stopping any privacy from ever reaching me. There is a poster in the corridor; I can see the edge of it through the door, it is cheerfully coloured, reds and yellows and contains some sort of slogan. I can piece to-gether the letters but do not understand the word. M.O.T.I.V.A.T.I.O.N it reads. I stand up, give the room a last look and then follow Jeremy from the room in the direction of the Mess.
* * * *
We have been doing a lot of activities lately, I have cooked 4 different meals and I really enjoy how creative I can be, a lot of the others have complimented me and told me I could become a chef one day, I know this is true. Every Morning, at 6 we go to the recreation area where we exercise for an hour before Breakfast, I often fall behind and the guards laugh at me and push me around. I know that I could harm them. Just a touch of my hand and then darkness. I know I shouldn’t do this and have so far refrained.
I am thinking about complaining.
A social worker keeps coming to see me, I have informed him of the way I am treated and he says he will stop them. Good riddance. He keeps asking me about my past but I ha-ven’t told him anything, I don’t want to. I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. I had a good life, I was doing well at school and enjoyed it and I was proud of my work, however one day, I was sitting with my Gran at home while my parents were out having a meal. We were talking about school and I vividly remember seeing the proud look on her face when I showed her a piece of work I had received a prize for when to my horror, she fell to the ground clutching at her heart. I remember wanting to help her but being completely immo-bilized with terror.
I was only 8.
Since that day, I have blamed myself for my Gran’s death no matter what anyone says, my grades slipped and my life seemed meaningless, I wanted to kill something, anything to avenge her death.
I remember back to the fatal evening which caused me to be sent here, it was raining out-side - rain always worsens my mood and that was no exception. I remember thinking about my Gran, I was feeling so depressed and empty that I wanted human contact and recognition so I called the radio station. It was the only phone number I had. The DJ came on the line and asked me what my standing was on global warming, I tried quickly to think of a reply but words failed me. After a pause I told him that he was speaking to a Super-star. The buzz of the dialing tone’s somber voice cut through me like a knife as the phone disconnected. It felt like I was once again being cut off from society. I realised then that the only way to gain attention was to resort to real violence.
As I walked outside, the bright orange glare from a streetlight seemed to light up the pud-dles of rainwater on the pavement causing them to glitter suddenly and then fade to a dull grey colour as my eyes got used to the brightness. I shivered and started to wonder why I was outside on such a cold, dreary night. The feel of the knife in my hand reassured me and gave me a purpose. I walked slowly, powerfully, gracefully towards a woman in a dl blue raincoat and grabbed her arm.
* * * *
The blinding spotlight focused on me as I sat, nervous and sweating in the courtroom, the gavel gave out four booming cries. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. and a hush fell over the room, all eyes turned to me, feeling like a deer trapped in the headlights of a fast ap-proaching car I glanced quickly towards the Judge as he began to talk.
“Charges of attempted wounding, assault and possessing dangerous weapons”
I try to explain that I had only intended to talk to the woman but I’m cut off once again. He asks the jury for their verdict and after only a short pause the powerful blow smashes into me as the word “guilty” escapes their lips. “Guilty” I repeat slowly.
by me (Adam Hutchinson
_________________
--Nitro--
[ This Message was edited by: Nitro1360 on 2007-11-07 22:21 ] |
SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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Nitro I really enjoyed reading that, thanks for contributing.........
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deluded
Joined: Sep 14, 2005
Posts: > 500
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@Nitro1360, commendable effort, appreciate that! I read the original in the link you posted, and some of the comments from the readers as well. I guess interpretation of literature can be quite controversial and somehow that's the beauty of it. Everyone relates to their own experiences and interprets it differently.
Ok, here's another one from me. It's the most recent one I wrote, if I remember correctly. My friend wanted me to write something to do with life and death in 10 minutes, here's what I came up with:
"Life"
The cold night sky,
the pale moon light.
The smell of death
lingers in the air.
A battle rages
within his heart.
A mind so strong,
a body so weak.
He fights to live,
some choose to die.
Another thousand miles away,
People awake to a brand new day.
The clear blue sky,
the fiery sun.
The laughter of young children,
fill the air.
A battle rages
within her heart.
A body so strong,
a mind so weak.
She could have lived,
yet chose to die.
Another thousand miles away,
People awake to a brand new day.
By: deluded@Esato
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. |
SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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Thanks that was brill, and in 10mins !
We have a littlehic up with the ftp........will figure it out.......
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SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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Almost got the ftp set up.........
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deluded
Joined: Sep 14, 2005
Posts: > 500
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Thanks nick, it's still quite raw I think. Anyway, thanks for helping us set up the ftp server. I'd still like to appeal for more contributions though. Come on people, share your works with us!
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. |
SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
PM |
THE FTP is ready unfortunately i wont be able to set up the thread until thursday sorry
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deluded
Joined: Sep 14, 2005
Posts: > 500
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No worries, I'm a little busy with exams right now anyway, so I won't be able to post much for the time being. Thanks for all you're doing for us, appreciate it mate!
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. |
Adz21
Joined: May 05, 2005
Posts: 112
From: Harrogate, uk
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Can't say i write much these days, i sometimes or used to when i could be arsed write some songs for local punk bands my mates are in. Here's my contribution, hope you like it. feedback would be nice
Why?
Death and poverty consuming the globe.
Whilst fat cats get rich in their humble abode.
2007 and still people die.
Whilst wicked politicians sip champagne and lie.
Everyones human were all from one place.
So why choose who dies its a total disgrace.
All this death from money and greed.
We are all one race forget colour and creed.
Its got to be one world or none.
Or everything we have will all soon be gone.
Adam Wright
The worlds a messed up place, with messed up people 
_________________
MDMAOK Alright, yeah yeah yeah.
MDMAOK Alright!
[ This Message was edited by: Adz21 on 2007-11-11 23:09 ] |
SE4NICK
Joined: Dec 27, 2006
Posts: > 500
From: Australia
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Although im not usually a fan of "rhyming" that was nice, truthfull...the world is messed up !
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Posted: 2007-11-06 21:54
