Stuff and Things

by Ferintar Wed Dec 01, 2010 1:05 am

So, this is the entire poem from my approval piece

The Black Violin
‘Twas eve, and her fingers danced
Across the strings, a shimmer in her eyes
They hummed a tune, a miraculous melody
Through the body of the black violin

Her house was once a place of life and joy
Full of friends, family and jubilance
She studied the stars and the musical arts
But a song and a sun can’t save you from an inferno

A great red beast tore through the mountain
Evaporating all in its path
Destroying the homes of the living and the dead
Mercy, this beast did not have

The violinist fled for her life
She ran to the streets of the city
The beast, in its rage, demolished her house
Destroying all but one thing

A day passed, a week, a month
Until she finally ventured home
She wandered through the ashes, found just one thing left
A box with her name, 4/4, and the word Violin

Inside the box was her life, her hopes and her dreams,
Now slightly charred and dusty
A shriveled bow just barely still working
And a violin burnt black

‘Twas eve, and her fingers danced
Across the strings, a shimmer in her eyes
They hummed a tune, a miraculous melody
Through the body of the black violin
(I wrote this shortly after the Fourmile Fire (look it up) and yeah)

by Ferintar Wed Dec 01, 2010 1:08 am

This isn't actually my poem, but it's my favorite rhyme:

Late last night, and the night before;
Tommyknockers, tommyknockers, knocking at the door.
Want to go out, don't know if I can;
'Cause I'm so afraid of the Tommyknocker Man.

by Ferintar Wed Dec 01, 2010 1:18 am

So, this is a poem about how awesome the violin is. It was originally named V, but then I met V and this poem is NOT about a crayfish. Or Ooo. Sorry V.

<Insert violin related title>
I can’t remember a time
When music
Wasn’t my soul

Always enjoyed
Always my passion
And picking up the bow was fate

Eager to play
The woodwinds today
But never making a noise

Then feeling a feeling
In the back of my mind
Turn around NOW

So around I zipped
And there it was
Resting in gentle hands

I walked,
No hovered,
To the room where it lay
Peacefully waiting for a song to be played

And there I was
Testing the bow
And if my fingers were nimble

Inspirational
Motivational
Instantaneous
Miscellaneous
But above all joyous

And now here I am
Honing my soul
Bowing the song of Eternity

(reading this over, I think this is about me learning to play. =P)

by Ferintar Wed Dec 01, 2010 1:22 am

EPIC LOACH STORY IS EPIC (wrote this earlier this year)

Soba the Loach

There was, and, I suppose, still is, a loach named Soba. And he was simply that. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about him. Not even anything slightly special. Okay, I guess there was one thing: He lived in another dimension. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Another dimension? How is that not special?!”, but, to be brutally honest, it was less special than anything Soba could imagine. He wasn’t any different in that dimension, save for the fact that fish don’t need water to breath there. But that posed to him as a problem, not an advantage. Because he was so small and skinny, many things stepped on him. So many things, in fact, that a powerful wizard-salesman took pity on him.
“Hey, little loach!” he called out to Soba. Now, this did nothing but make Soba mad, he hated being reminded that he was little. But Soba was kind of curious, so he looked in the direction of the voice.
“What do you want?” Soba called to the salesman in a melodious yet evidently angry voice.
“I am a wizard-sales-man! I sell wizards of all sorts. I have seen many things step on you many times, and feel very sorry for you. But, I just happen to be having a sale right now, two wizards for the price of one!”
“Well, how in the world would a pair of wizards help me?!” Soba asked in a less-than-polite voice. This man was irritating him quite a bit.
“You see, my little friend,” the salesman explained, “I have a wizard that can take you to another dimension where no one will know of your beaten past, and therefore could not make fun of you for it. I have another one that can give you the power to shrink and grow at will, so that you will no longer be so much smaller than everyone else.”
Soba was speechless. Could this man really allow him to do all that?
“I-I’ll take them both…” he said, barley whispering. And he made his purchase, watching the strange man skip away happily.
The wizards, two small men clothed entirely in green, turned out to be more of a pain than the man who sold them. They wouldn’t listen to a thing Soba said, and whenever he thought he finally had their attention, they cried out “THEY’RE MAGICALLY DELICIOUS” in unison. Frustrated, Soba pulled out a box of Less Fortunate Charms. He sat down by a tree, reached his hand into the box and pulled out a marshmallow.
“At least you come through for me, little marshmallow.” He said mournfully. And as soon as he finished saying “Marshmallow”, both of the wizards froze. Soba noticed this, and was curious.
“Oh, so now that I give up you decide to listen to me!” but this, as with everything else he had said, seemed to have no effect at all on either of the wizards. But the marshmallow did. The wizards’ eyes were completely fixated on the marshmallow. And before he knew it, one of the wizards had snatched the marshmallow from Soba’s hand…fin…thing.
“THEY’RE MAGICALLY DELICIOUS!” The wizards cried out very loudly, and the marshmallow began to float up in the air. It split into two bodies of light, and those bodies of light circled Soba, wrapped around him very tightly (he was surprised at the fact that he could actually feel the light), and everything went black.
There were dreams. Many dreams, of upside down horseshoes, full moons, and two-leaf clovers…then, at last, light filtered in through Soba’s weary eyes. He looked around. He was in a forest, it was evening. He studied his surroundings: some trees, a low set sun, pink clouds, an orange sky, a tiny ant crawling along a leaf…
“Wait, what?!” Soba cried out. Ants were not tiny. They were at least half the size of him! He took another look at the things around him. Everything was all smaller.
“Or maybe…”Soba thought out loud. And as he noticed the absence of two green lunatics, he realized that he, in fact, was bigger!
“Yes, yes, it worked! That weirdo didn’t con me!” Soba was filled with delight. He tried growing big, then small, and as he did this, he sang, wandering around the forest. But when he looked around again, realized he was lost. It then occurred to him that he never knew where he was in the first place.
“This may not be as great as I thought it would…” he thought to himself.
Somewhere of in another part of the forest, a teenage boy was trying to find the source of a melodious and wonderful song, sung in the most perfect voice he had ever heard.
“Where was that singing coming from?!” He wondered angrily. But before he could continue complaining to himself, he heard a voice calling for help.
“Help! I’m lost without food or water, and I know nothing of this new world!” the voice cried out.
“’New world’? What kind of weirdo is this?” he thought aloud. But he followed the voice anyway.
After a while of walking, he thought he saw something squirming around in the distance. He ran towards it, tripping over roots and bushes, until he saw one of the strangest sights he had ever seen. An enormous skinny catfish, at least 10 feet long, was flailing around crying.
“Wait…y-you’re a catfish…” he sputtered in awe.
“I AM NOT A CATFISH! I AM A LOACH!” Soba screamed, tears in his eyes.
“Er…okay…but what are you doing, like, not in water?” the boy asked curiously.
“In what insane dimension do fish breathe water?!” Soba asked in reply.
“Erm…this one?” the boy said. He felt like leaving, but he was afraid of what this…thing…would do to him if he even broke eye contact.
“Well that’s just great. Not only am I lost beyond hope, but now if I ever want to talk to a fellow loach, I’ll have to go underwater!” Soba felt like crying more, but he could tell that this boy now respected, even if out of fear, and he didn’t want to ruin that.
“Uh…yeah…another thing, fish don’t talk here…” the boy was convinced that this was a dream by now, and figured that if he just talked his way through it his alarm would wake him up soon.
“Fish…don’t…talk…” now Soba did cry. He cried and cried, and the boy eventually found it in him to feel sorry for him. He walked next to up to Soba and sat down. He patted him on the back (or what he figured to be as much of a back as a fish could have), and much to the boy’s surprise, Soba started shrinking as if the boy were patting on a button that made him smaller every time you pressed it. Once Soba was small enough to fit in the boy’s pocket, he did just that: he squirmed into the front pocket of the boy’s pants.
“Take me with you!” Soba cried, poking his tear-stained face from the pocket. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met to try to comfort me! Unless you count that salesman as comforting…”
“Er…I still have no idea what you’re talking about, but okay…but wait, even if I did take you home, where would you live? I can’t exactly put you in my fish tank if you breath air…” the boy was astounded at what had become of his little walk in the forest.
“It’s okay, I can hold my breath and go under water if anyone walks in the room, and live on the top the rest of the time! And, when no one is home, I can find my way out of the tank!” it was a good idea.
“Or as close to one as I’ll get…” the boy murmured to himself. And so, they walked home.

THE END
“Wait, what?!” the reader asked. “You’re just gonna end like that?! That was like the most anti-climatic story ever!”
“Uh…” the author said, somewhat nervously.
“I mean, seriously! You’re trying to pass that of as a story?! And this is for a writing PROJECT?! You’re getting graded on THIS?! Have fun re-taking the eighth grade!” the reader was starting to get very angry.
“You’re being very critical…” the author said quietly in defense.
“So what?! You ask me to read this story, I give you some friendly criticism!” the reader said loudly.
“’Friendly’?” the author replied. “How is this in any way friendly?”
“Oh, so now you’re questioning me?! You’re not only a horrible author, but a horrible person as well!” the reader wasn’t being very nice.
“You know what? Fine. You want a better ending, I’ll give you one: the world blew up and everyone who took part in the story died, except the author.” The end.

by Ferintar Mon Dec 06, 2010 3:38 am

This ish for Juli:
Flooded over with kaflibining work,
Trying to decide a fellow soul for eternity,
"Fair" has lost any meaning
Alas, every cloud has its silver lining
Maybe hard to find, but not impossible
As is everything if you try hard enough.
So, my friend, though you feel it is the end,
You CAN accomplish what you're trying
Just set your mind to it, and I'm sure you'll find
That nothing was too hard after all
Clear your find, concentrate, and everything will be fine.

by Ferintar Wed Dec 08, 2010 1:18 am

We're so high up, aren't we?
It's so beautiful...
You can trust me.
So high up...
We could be flying...

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