A few of my writings.

The ultimate goal in my life is to be a writer...A good writer. Weather I become famous or not is of no consequnce to me. Writing is my passion. Here are a few of my writings. If anyone has anything to say (anything at all) about my writing, by all means, say it! Any criticisms are welcome, and any suggesstions you hav would be greatly appreciated.

For making me my mind


Reality is the world
That is tucked inside your mind.
Perception is the ruler;
The margin from which life is defined.
Beauty is a figurine which
Stands like a sunset in the cordial sky.
Love is the child
That is born of you and I.
Lies are the paper cuts
That scar humanity's pristine brain.
Contemplation is the tempest
from which many must refrain.
I'll take a bite of all of these,
I'll swallow all the sky!
For marrying myself to me;
For making me my mind.

Beautiful Rain
Author's note: This is a prose piece. I wanted to post it. Here it is

Being darker in the morning than it had been the night before at sunset, I questioned weather my blue, translucent, digital watch could have been wrong somehow. No stars were above me, as my eyes wandered up staring into the unsurpassable glory which I could not help but behold with a since of inferiority, regarding the sky as it were some majestic and spiritual being. I wanted to fold this scenery up, take it to my room and paste it to my wall like one of the many posters I own to keep and always admire. This is what I live for. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was going to rain.
When I heard the thunder, as I walked swiftly to reach shelter so the book which I had in my possession wouldn't get drenched, the song " A Hard Rain" by Bob Dylan was summoned forth into my mind. ' It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall' , I sang quietly with a contented smile, and when it did rain, I wished it would never cease.
When I again stepped outside, the book carefully wrapped in my dark blue velvet jacket, I felt the sky's teardrops rain down upon me. It's a beautiful rain, beautiful rain. To sit and wait for nothing in particular in this environment for eternity would indeed be wonderful. I would surely have enough inspiration inside of myself to last until I drowned in this storm. I would've drowned in it if only I could have. And in a sense, I was drowning, fighting to stay above the emotions which overflowed inside of myself. This feeling was better than any drug induced euphoria. I had to finally make the decision to walk on before I smothered myself.

I personally liked the pros a little better then the Poem, but both were absolutely wonderful!

The Pros was almost poetry in itself. I could completely relate to the ephoric feeling of the rain hitting your face (i too love rains and storms). The words made my mind paint a picture and actually see and hear and feel what was going on. That kind of imagry is exactly what i look for in litterature.

as for the poem, it's to late for my mind to analyse and conclude. I may edit this post tomorrow with a comment on the poem, but i thought it was also verry good.

Vox :fro:

Wow...Thank you. I've been trying to move away from poetry a bit, and I haven't been focusing enough on it. I need to put more of an emphasis on it. I'll probably post more of my stuff in the near future .Thanks for the comments. I really appreciate it, Vox!

I absolutely LOVED the prose. Especially the part about drowning... WOW! I'm speechless! I'll have to wait a little for the feeling to wear off to be able to critique.

Nice cowboy be-bop pic btw :-P

I really liked the style of your poem, very beautifully constructed. :wink:

Ive had this idea for a while now, why dont we all start a new post, where all writers can communicate together, try and convey a story and their personality within two-hundred words or so. That would be interesting.