#spruce poetry

[aelfhild-astraedottir]

For the ninth day of my Winter haiku series, a lovely spruce I sheltered beneath the other week.

They stand raising boughs Undaunted and proud towards Skies of winter storms.

Photograph and poem © Ælfhild Astrædottir 2022

[ghostdrinkssoup]

hey guys I’m writing poetry again <3

[martitheevans]

Thoughts From The Pub On A Sunday Night

Inhale. Breathe in the stench of stale air and plastic smoke, Cigarettes and drunks that once may have spoke Of freedom, of peace, of a new world at ease.

And to myself, I ask, how can they live? With oh so little in terms of love to give? And they swore they would fight and kick and shout Only, for themselves. every man for himself, to find his own way out.

And I wonder, is it worth it? Worth living a life like this? Is it worth the lows when I remember what I'll miss? If the cost of freedom is my familiar life Should I just stay put while living a lie?

And now I stop and think, think a moment longer, The ice in my glass melts as I sit and ponder If I were to step outside into that bitter, biting cold On this Winter's evening, would the world feel quite so old?

And if for a moment, I let my mind unwind today If it could speak for itself, I believe it would say: "Let us pursue, dammit, let's make it to Someday Then! That's when we will prevail! But, for now, let's Exhale."

[yikepike]

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

four crows on a blue spruce

I drink storms

in the morning

the scent of them in blue lotus

elderberry and lavendar

a bit of mint to sweeten

because I ran out of linden blooms

and forget to get more

yesterday two bonded pair

of crows

in conversation or song

I couldn't tell which today

the winter keeps me inside

I have troubles with

keeping this body of mine

warm and comfortable

retaining heat has never been a skill

I absorb heat only to give it away

to anyone who asks for it

motherhood has given me habits

I'll likely never surrender

for no matter how my spirit feels

my arms open to give generously

for none were opened to me

and the body remembers cold

the absence of warmth can be sensed

but warmth can also grow to a boil

and I've always been one to jump

out of a plane

out of love

out of whatever hurts too much

to keep

the wise ones say

the first days of a new year

bring divination from the animal patterns

to et you know what each month may bring

divination is an art and a practice

rarely a science

but analyzing is in my nature

my faith is skeptical

but warm and forgiving

my logos is sharp and cold

but sometimes we must be

for eros and his heart dagger

bleeds something we all must learn

I wonder what I'll learn

when the month of

four crows in a blue spruce

whispers whatever fate

that awaits me

I like the crows

I know the sound of their grief

and grief is only love

wearing the heaviest of coats

[dewdropsonpluto]

Swallow and Spruce

Wind blown love dances away from my mouth and my lips whisper the despair my heart feels as the distance between you and I steps down and it's

C R A C K I N G M E

But I'm rooted down and deep and you wear wings and sing your song as you soar far far away and you can't hear the echo of snapping bark in the woods

S H A T T E R I N G M E

Fly back to me my love fly back to me when you're done when the world is known and you're weary and weak fly back to my shelter my branches my heart

R E T U R N T O M E

[alltonguenocheek]

take an axe to my limbs (please)

the most i can say about the bugs is they keep me alert the way they crawl keeps me on top of work theres a spot on the sink that bleach hasnt fixed despite the way i spray it thrice every day and somehow more hair finds its way into the kitchen every time i peel one from the counter i find that were it not entirely unsanitary i would vomit what little food lies in my gut into the sink out of sheer disgust and the food, dear god, is it so unclean the grease it leaves on my fingers makes me naseous and the spores and bacteria and larvae it welcomes makes me wish we did not require it to breathe i want to feel pure and i wish to be sterile but the nature of life is organically stained god cursed us with flesh when i dream of metal degreased polished shiny perfection machines cant be infected; dont make mistakes machines dont have nerves to be infested with roaches machines dont eat, sleep, or shit; free of secretions sometimes, i think of the tin man and his tragedy and i wish to take his place instead oh, to be built of steel, to have an empty chest cavity instead of all this viscera and mess and purile intent. 

//n.thorne//

[sylvi-wand]

Be kind to yourselves. Character proves more than appearance.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not sure if you've answered something like this before, but how do I write "prettier" sentences? I know one thing that will help would be expanding my vocabulary, but a thesaurus only seems to get me so far. I feel like when I write, especially when I'm describing things, my sentences are so basic. Idk if this makes sense, if it doesn't I can try and find examples from other writers to help describe what I'm talking about!

How to Write "Prettier" Sentences

Pretty prose is something many writers aspire to, however, it's not as easy to achieve as looking up words in a thesaurus. It's something you have to train yourself to do through both learning and practice.

Learn By Reading/Listening

First and foremost, making sure you're reading/listening to a variety of books and stories is essential if you want to learn how to craft prettier prose. Reading and listening to stories helps train your brain to: recognize the cadence of pretty prose, understand the structuring of pretty prose, understand how to craft meaningful imagery, and fills your head with vocabulary.

Expanding Your Vocabulary

Vocabulary is also an important component of crafting pretty prose. Following web sites, pages, and apps that have a "word of the day" (like the Merriam-Webster website) is a great way to learn new words. You can also purchase a word-of-the-day desk calendar for 2024. Some writers like to flip open the thesaurus every day on a random page and read a few random words. You can also read creative articles in newspapers, magazines, websites, etc. to learn new words. You can also look up the specific vocabulary for something you're describing, like if you're describing a house, you can look up the architectural style and general architectural terms to learn how to describe specific things like the style of home, the trim, the windows, etc. Finally, in addition to the thesaurus as a source of new words, you can add other word references to your collection, such as The Describer's Dictionary, the Random House Word Menu, The Writer's Lexicon, etc.

Learning Poetic Cadence and Imagery

Listening to music/reading song lyrics, and reading/listening to poetry are great ways to teach your brain how to craft descriptive imagery. Poetry has to say a lot with few words, so it helps you understand the power of using just the right words in just the right way.

Effective Description is Important

Effective description is of course another piece of the puzzle. Not all writing is description, but a lot of pretty prose is descriptive. So, when you're describing things in your story, make sure to consider the senses--what can be seen, heard, tasted, smelled, felt/touched? You don't want to incorporate all of that into the description of one thing, obviously, but if your character is walking into a forest, considering all of those things can help you come up with a vivid, beautiful description. Sometimes, looking for photos or videos of the thing you want to describe can be helpful, too.

Practice Makes Perfect

And last but not least: practice. Once you've started to train your brain using the methods above, when you go through a draft to revise it and come to a sentence that needs sprucing up, try out different things that you've learned. Don't go overboard with the thesaurus, but perhaps your sentence describes twinkling stars... is there another word you could use instead of twinkling that's more surprising and vivid? The thesaurus suggests: glimmering, shimmering, sparkling, blinking... cross-checking each of these in the dictionary shows they're all appropriate choices for describing the twinkle of a star. You can also read the sentence out loud to listen to the cadence... are there longer or shorter (yet appropriate) words you can use instead to make the sentence more lyrical? Improving your sentences in editing helps you learn to craft pretty sentences as you're writing them the first time.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[hellenhighwater]

Ooh, The Last Sequoia you're working on is really evocative for me. Part of my work two summers ago was helping with fuels reduction in a seqouia grove. 5 years after a hot fire killed more than half that grove. And months after the grove 10 miles away was saved from a big fire due to fuels reduction efforts the year before. I'm applying for a Masters program where I might be working on forest fire ecology... This is just to say that your painting isn't even done and it's making me Feel Things.

Thank you! I was thinking about this particular poem when I was working on it, it's stuck with me for years.

They will soon be down

To one, but he still will be For a little while    still will be stopping

The flakes in the air with a look, Surrounding himself with the silence Of whitening snarls. Let him eat The last red meal of the condemned

To extinction, tearing the guts

From an elk. Yet that is not enough For me. I would have him eat

The heart, and from it, have an idea Stream into his gnarling head That he no longer has a thing To lose, and so can walk

Out into the open, in the full

Pale of the sub-Arctic sun Where a single spruce tree is dying

Higher and higher. Let him climb it With all his meanness and strength. Lord, we have come to the end Of this kind of vision of heaven,

As the sky breaks open

Its fans around him and shimmers And into its northern gates he rises

Snarling    complete    in the joy of a weasel With an elk’s horned heart in his stomach Looking straight into the eternal Blue, where he hauls his kind. I would have it all

My way: at the top of that tree I place

The New World’s last eagle Hunched in mangy feathers    giving

Up on the theory of flight. Dear God of the wildness of poetry, let them mate To the death in the rotten branches, Let the tree sway and burst into flame

And mingle them, crackling with feathers,

In crownfire. Let something come Of it    something gigantic    legendary

Rise beyond reason over hills Of ice    screaming    that it cannot die, That it has come back, this time On wings, and will spare no earthly thing:

That it will hover, made purely of northern

Lights, at dusk    and fall On men building roads: will perch

On the moose’s horn like a falcon Riding into battle    into holy war against Screaming railroad crews: will pull Whole traplines like fibres from the snow

In the long-jawed night of fur trappers.

But, small, filthy, unwinged, You will soon be crouching

Alone, with maybe some dim racial notion Of being the last, but none of how much Your unnoticed going will mean: How much the timid poem needs

The mindless explosion of your rage,

The glutton’s internal fire    the elk’s Heart in the belly, sprouting wings,

The pact of the “blind swallowing Thing,” with himself, to eat The world, and not to be driven off it Until it is gone, even if it takes

Forever. I take you as you are

And make of you what I will, Skunk-bear, carcajou, bloodthirsty

Non-survivor.

Lord, let me die    but not die

Out.

James Dickey, “For the Last Wolverine” from The Whole Motion: Collected Poems 1945-1992.

[batrachised]

"Well, let us see. What do I like?

I like my own children and all nice, fat, clean babies anywhere. I like all kinds of books if they're well written whether they are religious or philosophical or sentimental or cynical or humorous or exaggerated or indecent. I like writing books myself. I like cats and horses and some dogs. I like curling breakers, woods and mountains and stars and trees and flowers. I like nicely furnished houses. I like good Victrola records and the music of the violin. I like pretty china and glass and old heirloom things. I like a cosy bed and a tight hot water bottle. I like to be kissed by the right kind of a man. I like jewels and pretty clothes. I like doing fancy work and I like cooking and I like eating the nice things other people cook. I like motoring and driving and walking. I like a systematic life with occasional dashings over the traces. I like open fires and moonlit nights. I like nice chatty letters. I like compliments. I like to see a person I dislike snubbed. I like my own looks when my hair is dressed a certain way. I like a snack at bed time. I like going out to dinner. I like helping other people and I like to be very independent of help myself. I like sunsets and pictures and sea bathing. I like keeping a journal. I like reading old letters. I like housecleaning-I do! I like entertaining the race of Joseph. I like day-dreaming. I like going to concerts, good movies and plays. I like-or used to like before I wedded a minister-dancing and playing whist. I like reading the Bible-most of it. (I like the folk-lore of Genesis and the drama of the Exodus and the gorgeous furnishings of the tabernacle and the doings of the kings and the good maledictions of the Psalms and the warm imagery of the Song of Solomon and the cynicism of Ecclesiastes and the worldly wisdom of the Proverbs and the idyll of Ruth and the blazing fire of the prophets and the wonders of Jesus' teaching and the poetry of Revelations.) I like listening to good sermons. I like gardening. I like good spruce gum. I like my husband. I like people to like me. I like a good joke. I like rainy days. I like old homesteads. I like people who agree with me. I like chocolate caramels and Brazil nuts. I like-or liked in pre-prohibition days-Miss Oxtoby's dandelion wine. I like perfumes. I like a little gossip with carefully selected people. I like shopping at Eaton's.

There now, Ruskin, tell me what I am..."

-LM Montgomery, in her journal

[ceilidho]

hi hi hi ceil! I hope you're doing well. My new year's resolution is to read more books, and I was just wondering if there were any you would rec? I really enjoy the stuff you right, and wondered where you get the inspiration from

hi hi!!!! im doing great actually, i had a nice day :))

oh i have SO many!! these are just my personal favourite and i read a lot of literary fiction and non-fiction and 'weird' lit, so hopefully something on this list sounds fun to you:

glass, irony, and god by anne carson [poetry - although i would recommend absolutely anything by anne carson]

half-light: collected poems 1965-2016 by frank bidart [poetry - honestly one of the poets you MUST read if you love poetry in my opinion - bidart, carson, dionne brand, louise gluck, paul celan, maggie nelson, adrienne rich, rainer maria rilke, t.s eliot, jan zwicky, kahlil gibran]

rings of saturn by w.g. sebald [literary fiction - unnamed narrator takes a walking tour of suffolk, england, and the book is about the encoded meaning found in everything; i love sebald so so much]

house of leaves by mark danielewski [architectural / weird horror; cult classic; spooky and eerie in the best way; high concept, a bit complicated to follow but worth it]

drive your plow over the bones of the dead by olga tokarczuk [fiction / thriller, a bit - read this last month and this book hooked me oh my god, it was so good]

severance by ling ma [apocalyptic / post-apocalyptic - possibly one of my fave books in this genre]

the overstory by richard powers [environmental fiction - multiple different narratives that sometimes converge, sometimes don't; truly had me weepy at points] (also, if you like environmental books, the golden spruce by john vaillant)

the complete cosmicomics by italo calvino [strange literary fiction, short stories - oh these are so delightfully strange and zippy and weird, they feel like eating starbursts or something!!!]

underland by robert macfarlane [non-fiction - this consumed me for days when i read oh my god. all about underground structures, catacombs, caves and caving, mines, radioactive waste disposal, etc]

the lonely city by olivia laing [non-fiction - a sad book, but still hopeful; she has such insightful commentary on art and queer history too]

the library at mount char by scott hawkins [weird fiction - so cool, SUCH a cool fun book oh my god. very interesting premise and executed to perfection]

some other names i'd recommend: eileen myles, maggie nelson, rebecca solnit, and ursula k. leguin (for your scifi/fantasy needs)

[evanorphia]

For as long as Evan could remember he had liked Barty.

He’d spend classes paying more attention to the way Barty didn’t pay attention than he did to the actual lesson, spending the hours infatuated with Barty’s slender fingers as they gripped the quill and when Barty would lean over to tell Evan a joke, already laughing that rich laugh of his before it had even left his lips. He’d watch as Barty rolled his eyes when someone got an answer wrong and how his hair would fall back into place after he messed it up with his hand.

Evan wasn’t too sure when his feelings for Barty had progressed to be more than just platonic, but the shift was undeniable. There was no way else to explain how he’d stay up at night staring at the ceiling of his four poster bed and imagining what it would be like to have Barty’s body heat next to him on a cold winter’s night. He’d imagine Barty’s lanky frame wrapping around him, boney and uncomfortable but Evan wouldn’t care because at the end of the day it was Barty who was next to him.

And it wasn’t like Evan had intentionally fallen for Barty.

Just like how Barty hadn’t intentionally fallen for Regulus.

It was just something that happened and honestly, Barty wasn’t sure how anyone couldn’t fall for Regulus. How they couldn’t become so enraptured with those eyes like summer storms; shades of aegean, spruce, and slate merging into an amalgamation of blue that shouldn’t have worked so well but created a fusion so vivid and heavenly Barty would happily drown in them. In fact, Barty longed for that. He longed to be tossed by the crashing waves, dragged by the current, and thrown into the jagged rocks in such vigor that the pain became all he knew.

Barty would watch as Regulus wrote his poetry every night, the way his porcelain skin would gain a warmth to it under the flicker of the candle and Barty would imagine what it would be like to touch his face — would his skin feel as warm as it looked? He’d try and peer over into Regulus’ notebook, get a glimpse of the poems, but Regulus would never let him. Which, all in all sucked because of how curious Barty was, but he wasn’t going to force Regulus into showing him and accidentally push him away.

The last thing Barty would ever want was to push Regulus away.

Just like how the last thing Regulus would ever want was to push Evan away.

Regulus would spend his evenings writing poetry about those blond locs of Evan’s, how they always seemed to turn a strawberry colour under the glow of flames and would occasionally have crystals woven into them. He’d write about the way Evan’s lips turned up at the corners ever so slightly whenever he was trying not to smile with everything in him but failing miserably, he always ended up looking like the happiest man alive and Regulus was in awe of it.

He spent more time thinking about Evan than he did himself at this point. Be damned with his family or his brother, Regulus would lose everything if it meant he got even a minute knowing what it would be like to feel Evan’s lips against his. He wanted to know what it was like to be loved by the softest boy he knew and he wanted to crack him open and find out who he was beneath the surface of the firm exterior walls he subtly put up to keep everyone else. Regulus wanted to be the one to pry him open, but with care.

The only thing was, they all knew there wasn’t ever going to be a chance in the entirety of time that the other would like them back. So everything stayed within the confines of their minds, tucked safely away from everyone else’s judgemental gazes and remained their own personal secrets.

[louroth]

Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged in. (it's me, Lou!)

The time is here, and oh man, do I have a lot to say! Ever since this post was posted on my personal tumblr, on the fifth of may, I have been working like a machine on all things OUROBOROS. I had originally planned for this to just be a progress report/ announcement on what I will be working on now that I am free of the shackles of work, but, somehow, I managed to finish all bullet points, and more. So, let's get into it!

First off, the title.  Ouroboros becomes all capitalized OUROBOROS. Idk. It's neat. Next!

Art. Whew. I didn't think I could draw like this anymore- drawing has been more of a struggle than writing has been, forever, always- it was something I really strived to become good at, for a time. And I gave up. Only to pick it up again when I started ouro, and ever since I released that pressure, something just clicked and I have been churning out art like never before. I don't know if this is a fluke, a stroke of luck or if all that hard work I once did slaving away with menial art practice… but I'm grateful nonetheless. (A note on official RO art: I lost my ipad pencil somewhere on the lawn, lmao. I haven't been able to get a new one yet, so there is a slight delay here.) I am hoping that I get to make some commissions too, in the near future. Visit the forum to see some works in progress (amongst them, Yor's RO portrait!)

Onto the hellscape that is coding! I have been growing more proficient with CSS and html with the help of the ones that run so that we can walk; I have studied and researched and tested and tinkered until my eyes crossed, finding my way into this medium with the incredible guidance of the giants of whose shoulders I stand on. I will talk about this in detail on a later date. So I think it's finally time to reveal that yes, I am working on a twine version of ouro. I will develop it in tandem with choicescript; the porting over from one to the other isn't the herculean task I thought it would be.

Why am I doing this? Because I need to have a save system. I am continuing to write the whole alpha draft in choicescript in hopes that CoG will announce the ability to have a native save/checkpoint system, but if that doesn’t happen, I can’t publish this story without one. Unfortunately, I am not willing to code in a savesystem in choicescript myself, because this will be a large game, with far too many variables for that to be sustainable. Trust me, no one is more disappointed by that fact than me. If it comes to the point that twine publishing will be what I do, I will set my sights on writing a smaller game for hosted games. 

Now the meatier announcements!

New Socials!

Tumblr: You are looking at it!  This is the new, exclusively OUROBOROS blog where I will share all announcements and sneak-peeks, and future updates. I worked together with the dev of the theme and made it oh, so pretty and functional. Please check out their portfolio here, if you are ever in the market for sprucing up your (desktop version) of tumblr. They were a pleasure to work with. Amongst other things, it has a gorgeous header (again, only if you visit on web and not mobile) where I am showcasing fanart and official art. Go check it out! This month, I am showcasing a truly breathtaking art from KAIRELART, and you can find the full art here, or follow the links in the “FEATURED ARTIST” tab in the top bar.

I hope you enjoy this new haven for OUROBOROS! I will be answering questions once a week (saturday) and ramping up as I adapt to this new schedule, more on that further below.

My old tumblr, honeypeabrain, will revert back to being my personal blog. Feel free to keep following me there, but know that it will be inundated with shitposts, crass humor and the occasional poetry dump and personal post. You’ve been warned!

Discord!

By the good graces, this was ROUGH to set up. Working with discord bots is akin to wrangling code, and it was well and truly, a war. But with the help of many, it is finally all done and ready for anyone to join and talk to me and others about OUROBOROS and anything else between heaven and earth. 

I will also greatly appreciate if any future bugs and feedback are submitted through here, so I can keep easier track of it. Come join us! (18+ ONLY.)

Patreon & Ko-Fi

Yep! Ko-fi is just a place to toss me a coin if you wish to help me towards the goal of new PC parts to make testing easier, or to just show appreciation for those that have it to spare. Patreon however, already has a multitude of posts and will be a hub for exclusive NSFW sidestories that you get to vote on, loredives and extensive sneak peeks, Q&A’s, polls and weekly dev logs. 

Right now, there are only two tiers, but I expect it to grow as my story does. I have many plans, but I am going at a steady pace. 

Amongst tiered content, there is a (free) NSFW story with female MC and Idren to read there right now, if you want to check it out! I am mgoing to post it on tumblr and the adult thread here over the weekend.

NOTE: I stupidly didn't realize that patreon had a review process after I pressed launch, which I did just a few minutes ago. Sigh. I am going to post the short on tumblr and the adult forum thread as soon as I get to it.

It is not mandatory by any means, so if you do choose to support me, you have my eternal gratitude as these places will be the sole source of income for me.

Onto writing:

The best news out of this whole bunch is that I have worked so hard on editing and writing, that in the past month I have all but finished a two chapter update! I have a chunk of about 5-6 thousand words left to write, and I am going to buckle down over the weekend to see it through. I wanted to have it done so badly for today, but I lost three days of writing time last week due to still being weighed down with work. I hope it isn’t too disappointing to have to wait until monday for the demo update! I am going to post a link to an as-I-write updated demo on Patreon and Discord, if you want to see the ugly face of raw wip drafts. Otherwise I will post the demo update here on Monday with a comprehensive post!

And now!  the biggest news is… from now on, I am writing full time!

This is what I have been tossing and turning about every night ever since Easter. It started as a silly idea while talking to some friends and family about how I was looking for a change in career. And then, little by little, that idea whittled down to a plan, carefully carved by my partner and his whispers of a happy future, a finished dream project, and something to be proud of until the day I wither and die. 

Somewhere between then and now, I grasped a tiny sliver of bravery and held on for dear life. 

I quit my job as a teacher, and instead of accepting a cushy office job, I started behaving as if OUROBOROS and writing was my work (for all the moments I could afford). I have researched and tried different methods from week to week, and although I was still tired from work, I felt like I was onto something that could build into a sustainable future. 

I have no doubts that this journey will be bumpy and long, but sometimes all it takes is to take that first step, and do it with determination. It might all crash and burn and fail in a spectacular way, or with a whimper, but then I will know that I have tried. I will know that I gave myself the chance to be who I want to be, work on what means so much to me. 

And that’s it. I think the hardest part of formulating this post (I’ve written about 50 versions of it!) is getting to the point; the kernel of what makes it so special to me. So, in my heart of hearts, what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm gonna give it my all- and while I know the road to having a sustainable career in writing is rough and ever winding, I do know for sure that I am ready for a challenge, to pour my heart and soul into it until the day I rush out of the office screaming IT IS DONE. IT IS DOOOOONE!!! 

If you decide to join me, I will treasure your company like a lantern in the dark. Hand in lovable hand, let’s fucking go.

[aboutbirds]

One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Wallace Stevens, "The Snow Man," from Collected Poetry and Prose

[bottlecap-press]

From Zach Spruce's chapbook, Vanishing Sun, available from Bottlecap Press!