The Less then one week return!

Hey'O! I'm back for the second time in one week! And what a week it has been! Prince William is now married, not that any really cares! So some guy called William married his true love called Kate. In any ordinary the marraige would just be a minor footnote in some marraige listing in the local newspaper, but OH No you get the royal family and suddenly the brittish empire, I mean common wealth must have a day off and the whole world focused on one wedding. Before I spend your entire free time reading my moanings I going to put up the poems I did in todays for writing. The first was an activity for a self glorfing poem, the second a moment of slow motion and the third a moment in rush

Glory:
I, Myself, Prince of Predicons
Lord of the shadowborn, Bane of Sanity,
I the poet of all my dream's broken mirror,
voice of wisdom, advocate of the forgotten genius,
Hail the Sun of Deaths Secret,
a devoirer of knowledge,
Duke of Maddness and Sanity,
May God show him even greater lines,
as I sit alone,
on a throne of Frozen Tears,
In the Garden of Blackroses and unfurfilled dreams.

The Fall:
Fist,
gliding through the air,
like a dandilion seed,

The fist, it giters
with gold and silver,
almost at it's victim,

suddenly it is flung
up, a shockwave
of pain

the man falls,
his rings
break, Jewels shatter

but the knee
has broken
more important
thing, things most necessary,
his hip bone.

The Knights:
The rushed and boomed and crashed,
the dust is a marker of out fury,
my, no, our, no, mine alone, my anger,  my wraith,
I must find his heart, soon or I'll miss,
his lance is also raised and aimed,
we gallop and brush aside the fools,
the fools who run and scurry and wnder,
and just in the as we collide,
steel and steel smash and then splinter,
the blood spurts everywhere,
I turn and stop,
his heart is on my lance,
but my horse is scarred and dead,
a lance lays buried in his head,
I jump onto the dust before her crashes down,
and I charge to my enemy with my sword in hand
And as I dash to him,
he takes his blade, and then his life.


I will start ranting again, and it's about purly personal affairs now, my dad made me help him drag a recently bought dingy. It was problems after problem, had to get new tape to hold it in place, then find the number plate and screw it in, then figure out how to link the electronics, which didn't work and then the links between the car and trailer was fiddly and then the dingy rattled when we where driving so we ended up having to put even  more tape on the boat, aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

         The Furious Swearsy McSwearsalot,
                                                               Myself

Sorry I'm Late

Happy Easter, Everybody and I'm sorry late with this email, but my dad has been making me do DIY and House cleaning over the easter holidays, 'YES!' ( in a tone so sarcastic it burns a hole in reality that I fall into and take three hours to crawl slowly and so horribly painfully out.) So yeah I'm sorry about that, here is the writings:
1) This was a poem where we had to use sevral certain words:

T’wis the most jolly day of spring

And a fair young kit asked his mother

“ Why do we celebrate Easter Mum?

So she groaned and hummed,

She didn’t wish to break her scion’s innocence

So his father said

“ My’sonny boy, we celebrate the resurrection

Of the messiah after his crucifixion”

So the little boy was quiet,

But he did wonder,

Where did the Easter Human fit in?

Why did he deliver a chocolate egg,

To every rabbit kit?

And why would a human do that?:

It's a joke on the whole Easter bunny thing, with the rabbits saying their point of view.

2) This is just madness, we had to use only one letter for word to start with, except for cojoining words:

Joking Jim Jumped Jolly and Jittering Joan Jived and Jiived for Jelly Jam Jeepes and Jimmy Jam Jelly Jelo! Jim the Jousted Joan for the Jelly Ham Jeeps and Jammy Jam Jelly Jello of Jovel Jonny. Jonny jumped to Jamy-Jam-Jam Jelloland of Jeepton Jumpers after Jim Jousted Joan.

Pure Insanity, perfect for a children's book.

3) This is the most serious and understandable of the works:

Mr. Geist tapped the table top, the ring of metal pen to metal desk. Mr. Dragon stared at him in short temper, but Geist ignored him. Mr. Nox was ranting on how project Onomatopoeia was going, how phase nyaa was over and phase woof was commencing. Mr. Ozymandias was nearly asleep, while Mr. Nova was actual asleep, but at least Mr. Van Hellsing was smiling contently;

“And so Omega Corp is confident this will succeed in this project. Any questions?” Finished Nox “Gentlemen.”

“I have one.” Remarked Mr. Geist,

“ Oh shut up you prat!” Growled Mr. Dragon; “ Your blood won’t boil with this project or, or, or sears busting, boils forming, teeth falling out or eye balls exploding.”

“ I’m not worried about the effects of Project Crimson.” Remarked Geist; “ I just want to ask this: can we be traced back too when the program fulfils it’s duty.” Mr. Nox grinned at the question,

“ That’s the beauty of my plan! It will never be traced back to us. After all it is a police update, and not private or virus, so we are saved from any trouble!” was the reply Mr. Nox gave to his associates, Mr. Geist merely made a small hand sign of thanks and grinned. The plan was simple, every human had a chip in their head, a chip linked to the internet, a chip now linked to human internal systems, faking drug highs was easy, but that wasn’t their lord’s master plan.

  Thank you for reading those little stories, but is it me or is the poetry chossen for the english school course is just so stupidly annoying and boring. It's as if the system is a labotemy of the human cultrual sense.

It drives me sick we fury and wrath,

they attempt to scar my mind, my life,

to destroy the artist,

and create the bureaucrat.

            I created that poem on the fly as I was writing it, which is just to show off. Not much going on but took a nice walk today and as always my feet where screaming in pain  after wards, well not much going on here, but if anyone has anything they want talked about please leave a comment, so now I'll sign off,

                               The Orange Hater,

                                                     Myself

First Bloging

B'y'ellow, B'y'ellow, I'm the writter of this new and hopefully enjoyable blog. I'll probally update every Saturday, this is as I have a writing course every Saturday and I'll be posting my writings up here, so enjoy the randomness!!! ( I have very bad spelling)

   This week in this glorious system of chaotic writing we invented some new english words!
Fluramo ( A fall from grace purely for the sake of falling from grace), Nideal ( A lack of smell; what silence is to sound, Nideal is to smell), and Skedish ( The act of making up random words ) where ones that I made for this Activity. One of the girls didn't have any words I can see a serious use for in my ( hopeful ) future career of Author, but the other made some good words:
Inkdil: A dark lily like plant
Glustell: The ringing of a bell caused by the wind force, considered bad luck
Scrosting: Pieces of rust that fall onto a surface to form a sort of coating
Sprackle: A tiny fluffball creature that scatters about when the curtains are shook.

We had to write some poems using five words and any number of our own words ( I'll underline the needed words and itallics for the new words)
  
     The Oracle's vision
The Castles and manors are in ruinius death
the land is dead
not a potato, or a barley loaf, or a craker left,
this land, called Ireland once,
is deader then gold, or coal, or fluffy clouds.
For in it's silent nideal of darkness
the memories of the queen scream,
of her visit, of the economies death,
and how this country died in glorius Fluramo,
in a twisted and cold quest of Skedish.

     Pig Breakfast.
A dance of the fateless, fast and eerie
they run,
run to hide from that slight blade
their foul stench killing my nideal,
I will find them, and have me some Crubeen


This piece was from last week but I think it deserves some recognition. Just to note the Id, Ego and Super Ego are terms for mental systems used in psychology. I think they represent the wild animal, the sense of self and the moral code:

Clarke was kicking himself, any-normal tiem he would run, he was the best member of the local running team, the best member.But he was to afraid to do so, before him were three dead men; clawed, bitten, burnt, whipped, crushed and about destroyed in every possible way you could imagine a gang of dragon-slayers could die when fighting a dragon in an alleyway. Sari was standing tall over them, scrapping blood from under her nails with a file. Clark was either dating a  girl who could turn into a dragon, or a dragon who could turn into a girl, he didn't care. His Id was screaming like a little girl, his Super-Ego was simply fainting and his Ego was complaining as her cloathes weren't ripped off in the shape shifiting.


I'll also be posting my oppinions on various things in each blog, for example I like this webcomic, just keep an eye that the front page leads to the latest update. Plus I'll be adding what I did of interest on that week,
for example I completed the ECDL course on Monday, at last I'm finished that damn boring course! On tuesday my class had a concert of our own music, and if you happen to hear those songs, we are sorry but we are terrible lyric writters. Actually, that's most main stream songs these days. And from Wednesday to Friday I was doing work experience at my local bookshop while the rest of my year is in Barcelona for the school trip. I didn't go for five reasons:1) I hate hot weather. 2) I don't like the idea of having more pick pockets on the average street then degrees ( celisus or fahrenhiet) on an average day. 3) I voted for Paris on the form. 4) The school has gone to Barcelona for the last 2 years at least, and I don't want to form that kind of tradition. 5) I have no interest in the city's sights.

                  The Creater of Titles
                                              ME!