clover91-blog

[clover91-blog]

The help would be much appreciated.

Basically I’m writing five short stories (maybe even novellas) all in the horror genre.  I don’t want to post the whole things for three reasons

1. They aren’t done yet 2. They are long which means they won’t be read 3. I’m hoping to publish

but I did post a section of one.  You can’t really find the story line, it stands alone as more of a prose piece.  I’m hoping you can critique me on the writing style, whether or not you like it and why or why not.

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/post/25323328532/excerpt-from-a-story-im-writing

That is the link.  It would be much appreciated.  

[clover91-blog]

deleted early

awesome

[clover91-blog]

this is the first poem I've posted on here in a long time.  I'm using a different blog now and I'm going to continue using a different blog.  This was just so I could read this poem tonight at a poetry read.  That's the only reason I posted it.

This is my new blog

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

[clover91-blog]

The Year the World Ended

1. Prelude

In the beginning there was god, nothing, There was blackness, as an atom waited To explode - Depending what you believe. The oceans, seas, rivers were created With the brush of a pen against the black thought.  The earth formed around the written verses Of God, of nothing, of black, an atom  Waiting to explode, create universes.

In the beginning there was the poet  With his pen, who wrote the new dust into  Existence, who personified the dust Into the figure of a man, in the Beginning the poet took the man’s dust blown Ribcage and wrote a woman with his bone

2.

There is this pen waiting patiently between my thumb and my forefinger; it has been promised an explosion, the deterioration of the atmosphere. Currently it is silent and calm across every inch of this planet, but this pen is watching the clock, anticipating the way dirt will shift from a world collapsing inward. It is prepared to paint the colors of desolace that will fall softly across the ocean when final gun shots sleep. Stillness will crawl inside the horizon much like a sun rise, but there will be no sun (or moon, or stars) there will only be a sky, empty of light.

3.

Cars cough to life on the highway breathing grey exhaust into the wintery air of early January. If you glance at the streetlights quickly enough - and at the right angle- one might see the image of teeth illuminated against the sky’s backdrop, but it is only a trick of light playing against a paranoid mind.

No, there are no teeth, only streetlights and car breath accenting a cold morning in January.  The year is only beginning, no time for hallucinations or fuzzy ideas of destruction.

Now is a time to rest and enjoy the smell of Christmas fading from my nostrils, the warmth of coffee, the glimmer of streetlights, of teeth, of streetlights. 

4.

The year the world’s suppose to end started with a kiss, the traditions -  peas with bruised eyelids, drinking a little fire,  and counting backwards.

No one mentioned destruction or death, or endings. They only spoke of beginnings.

We are invincible, are we not? 

5. The Day the World Ended

Death was not littered across gray skies, no one sat in a cellar drinking down fire waiting, just waiting, for final seconds to expire. 

Nuclear waste could not be tasted in the wind and the news stations weren’t broadcasting war or rebellions or anything at all.

It was actually a quiet day; a woman sat by the fire reading a paperback book (a truck stop romance), an older couple walked - hand in hand-  through the old neighborhood where they first fell in love, and the sky collapsed above in an absolute silence that dissolved through the atmosphere. 

[clover91-blog]

How do I keep getting new followers on this blog.  WHAT THE HELL

[clover91-blog]

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

[clover91-blog]

New blogs

I don't post on this blog anymore.  If you want to follow my poetry blog this is the new one that I post on

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

and I have also just started a blog over religion.  I don't mix religion into my poetry blogs, but if you want to read my thoughts on God and Christianity my new blog is 

http://mybonesarebruised.tumblr.com/

[clover91-blog]

New blog

I haven’t posted on this blog in forever.  This is my new blog

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

[clover91-blog]

New Blog. Come keep me entertained

I haven’t posted on this blog in forever.  This is my new blog

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

[clover91-blog]

My new blog

I haven't posted on this blog in forever.  This is my new blog

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/

and this is a piece I wrote about my Grandparents today.

http://thedustwillsing.tumblr.com/post/20542541639/being-strong-the-death-of-my-grandparents

It's long, but I think it is worth it.

[clover91-blog]

Camera

Looking at getting into photography. Any suggestions for a good digital camera? Price range about 600. Message me :)

[clover91-blog]

Camera

Looking at getting into photography. Any suggestions for a good digital camera? Price range about 600. Message me :)

[clover91-blog]

Since I haven't used this blog in forever I thought I would show you a little bit of what I'm writing on my other blog.

Eat

With only enough money for one meal, I bought that old book and took it home with me. I devoured the dusty cover and the spine that was falling apart letting the lines get stuck inbetween the gaps of my teeth. I will taste these words for days to come.

The paragraphs were sweet rolling over my taste-buds; Every letter could be tasted. I lapped up the syllables leaving the plate dry.

My stomach is swollen with the details of a story line and my breath still smells like paper. 

[clover91-blog]

“Honey, please stop scrubbing the fridge.”  She was tuning him out again.  “Mary I’m serious.  Stop cleaning the fridge; we can do that tomorrow.” “That’s the problem with you Mark.”  She said this without turning her head to look at him.  “It’s always tomorrow, and tomorrow it will be the next day and this fridge will never get cleaned.”  Her hands continued vigorously against the inside of the door.  She was still wearing her black dress. “Don’t you at least want to change first?”  No response.  Her hands kept up their fast back and forth pace as she shook her head to herself.  Mark knew what was happening; it was the same thing that happened when Mary’s father had passed away a few years back.  Soon they would have the cleanest house in California and Mary would still find new things to clean.  It was her strange way of coping.  “I heard that seventy-five percent of refrigerators have some sort of mold growing in them.”  Mark doubted if that was true but didn’t say anything.  Instead, he sat on the couch and tried to sort his thoughts while watching Mary deep clean their refrigerator.   Gaylin, Mary’s mother, had always been good to him – even when he and Mary were first dating.  There was no ‘in-law tension’ that you heard so many people complain about; Gaylin was practically his biological mother.  She always treated him like family.  He wondered how Mary kept such a calm demeanor after the death of her mother.  She was hurting, of course – that was evident within the meticulous scrubbing of the fridge – but she had yet to shed a single tear.   Her mother had lived a good life: eighty-seven years old, and she had died peacefully in her sleep.  That had to make it easier, but it was still tough to let such a great woman go.  Mark was getting teary eyed just thinking about it.  “Mary, at least go change first.  Get into something comfortable; for God’s sake, you are still wearing the clothes you wore to the funeral.” “I am comfortable, dammit!  And I…and..” she started choking on sobs.  “And this ff-fr-fridge won’t clean its-itself, s-so just let me be.”  She mumbled something else about mold through a tear soaked voice and went back to scrubbing the perfectly white door.     

[clover91-blog]

simplicityiscomplex reblogged your post: White Walls

block

i love clover so much

This made me so happy

[clover91-blog]

What are some good guy names for a short story?

[clover91-blog]

I've got an idea for a novel

I've got an idea for a novel written down,

outlined with specific details and scenes.

It probably won't ever be written

but still, it's exciting.

and maybe I will finish this one

or at least start.