For once on time

After the last two posts it's now nice to getting back to a regular deposition in timing of blogs. And I nearly missed this as my parents decided to dig a whole, great, effing great.
 Here is the writings, the first part is messing with syntax of the writing, or the order of the words, the sentences I messed up our the first three sentences;

The Bear Roared Loudly.

Jack subsequently died of freight and Charlie Green head exploded.

The night was Chilly and so was Hal.

Roared bear the loudly.

Fright of Charlie, head and Jack exploded? Green Subsequently.

Chilly so? The was and! Night was Hal.

  Was fright loudly, subsequently Hal! And head so night of roared? The green bear, Chilly the Jack was died exploded.

  Hal and fright was, Chilly so Exploded? Died of Jack loudly! Charlie Head so; green bear the, night.

This next one is a poem based on an item in the room, try and guess the item;

  I flare and die,

My job is simply to melt away,

I’m given a flaming heart,

So that they may see,

But I see those glass bulbs,

They shine, but not by some wicked flame,

Oh, what a sick life I’ve got,

If only I could scream, my spine is incinerated,

My flesh vaporised,

If I could only scream, there would be no poetry,

Or romance, or light in a powercut,

Only my scream as I’m burnt away,

To be the slave of flame,

A single flame, the single thing I know,

Who is likely to have a shorter life then me,

For I’m a voice bound in my own flesh,

Wax.

This third piece is an  deep detail of a character, it's a little odd, thats what it is;

A spidery frame, thin arms stretching forth from his t-shirt, which hung from his forth like a flag, he was just that much skin and bones. His Denims had thin legs but even those failed to exaggerate his features, for only his legs where skinnier then his main body. His feet where uncovered and scared from walking over stones, but their considerable length out did his legs which where short and squat compared to the rest of his lanky body. His face was continuing with the thin theme, and his moustache was twirled like that of a mad genius. His hair was short and only the strength of it’s red colour differentiated it from the cut of soldiers. His eyes where deep set and his nose long and extended, it’s hook extremely exaggerated. He had side burns which went to his chin, which was completely bold. His face was beset with wrinkles by the bucket load, and his teeth, well, they where perfect, all white and crisp, they looked more like pearls then teeth.

This final writing is we wrote one or two word on a piece of paper, hid the words and passed onto the next person. The Italics are mine, the bold is Ellen's and the normal is Virginia;

The Neon dream fly a yellow void.

The forgotten hot air balloon cooks a sleepy maze.

The blue tree wanders a translucent chair.

  Not much going on but the Leaving and Junior Cert have finished, so I won't get to paid for sitting on my ass anymore. But I just drew mazes, which are as hard as hell, MAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I've been watching a Youtube series called legend of Zelda Abridged by Adamwestslapdog, I give you a link to the first episode, here. Unfortuantly the sequal series was never continued, which sucks.Not much else going on but if anyone wants me to comment on something leave me a comment,

    the unemployed couch potato

 

One week no Blog

'Ello, 'Ello, sorry about no blog last saturday but I had no writing, also not much was happening. The only thing was that the Irish state exams started on Wednesday last week, and I've been sitting outside the test rooms to make sure no-one cheated in the corridors, which if I had not been writing my first novel, I would have gone mad. The novel will be called The Silver Viper and will be a (sorta) Science-fantasy, and I'm not going to be putting up any of it so you'll have to wait for it, but I'm also not sure about how book copyrights work, so I'm not risking anything, I'm really sorry! But enough chit-chat,  time for this week's writing;

       This first one is speed writing with the title of DEATH OF THE CLOWN;
The circus was burning down, and Mr.Bam-Boom-Boom grinned an evil grin. All the little children would cry and ask questions, the animals would run wild and maul people, the midget would be crushed and that one clown would have his face melted as his wig burned, oh yes, sweat vengeance, sweat, sweat vengeance. He has now paid for that malicous act, and Mr.Bam-boom-boom would be freed from that one memory, he just had to do an evil laugh.
      Dr.Elk stared into the padded room as the patient laughed madly. Poor case, a child genius traumatised by a clown, a jar of high quality pickles, sevral carrots and three hundred issues of the Empire magazine and now has lived for three years inside the Asylum, unaware of the world around him and stuck in some sort of dream.. If it had been thirty years Dr.Elk would have 'removed' him, a waste of space, life and resources.

This next one was inspired by a map of Oxford done in Ye Olde Style:
   Caydis looked at the public map on the outside wall of the tavern. He was amazed how all the temples, Villas and colleges where scattered over the back of the islands of Calicon. Calicon was a city built on a archipelago between the sea and the great Lagoon of Eaan, and streched between two pincers of land that seperated the lake and the ocean. Only the palace and  the Senate where not in the posh area, but on one of the pincers of land. Caydos touched the map with a finger and the area he touched enlarged and showed the street in greater detail. By a building marked South Western Tram Station was a smaller building simply called Guild-House 'Iron-Angels'. He touched a small button on the bottum left corner which changed the map from streets too the layout of the tram line. Which he studied and smiled, like the guide said; Bosan port row had a tram to the Soutn Western tram station, but where was this stop? Caydis turned to face down the street and see four post with clocks not alligned to the proper time, that must be it.

    This one was inspired by a picture of a disected worm;
The worm was hungry, it's jaws gnashed themselves, he had never had a set of jaws before, but then again, he had never thought of anything before. His primative and primal mind was content with just eating and digging, but no more. Not since that voice had changed him, that sweet soft femine voice, with only the very slight undercurrent of an undertone of the most diluted form of the weakess anger ever to exist. He was changed, now he had scales, and jaws, and claws, and fangs, and horns, and a tongue, and a brutal intelligence, an itelligence with one food source, one duty, humanity. The voice had told him the world had suffered by their wicked, greedy and unrelenting hand, and now they must, DIE! It saide their meat was a sweat as compost but he didn't care, no longer a mortal beast, he had a new, unsatified craving, one all consuming hunger of a desire, the screams of man-kind.

This one is a mutliple person piece, my line is normal, Virginia is bold and Ellen is italic;
   The sun was shinning, today would be perfect for a good day for eating Ice-Cream, which is why he ate Fondu. It was so sweet, he thought he was going to melt like candy-flan. The Sweet goodness seeping into the open wounds on his lips mage him laugh in delight.

 Who enjoyed those? Well your kinda of sick if you do, or I'm deluded about humanity. But not much going on but I got my test results, all A's except for Irish and English, I'm awful at Irish anyway, so you might ask why I didn't do well in English, I'll tell you. Not to be insulting to my English Teachers, but the english course is like a lobotomy with club. It's not good for the creative world, also it's killing of the poetry business, and it has no real purpose, but I think it should be focused on Journalism or Report writing, honestly it would be better as people would be getting marks for a skill they'll need in their lives. The only other thing I've been doing is playing a video game called Spectrobes Through The Portals, does anyone else play it?
    The Dark Turnip Eater,
                             Me
              

I am really, really, really, really sorry about being late, again.

Sorry everybody that I'm late with this blog post but, I got hold up on Saturday with some stuff and I don't go on computers on Sunday, partly as a break from the computer, but also to keep the Lord's day holy. YES, I'm religous, get over it.

           Kinsale has a poetry night every first friday of the month in the Kinsale Book Shop and I went their for the first time last week, which was fun(nish). Here are two poems I put forward last friday:

Bitter-Sweet Liberty

Liberty is an honour

Not a taste most are allowed to enjoyed,

And now summer is here,

But I cannot shed even one tear,

For we are free,

But only from freedom,

As summer has risen,

And the testes are gone,

But I’m still alone,

And only a distant memory of a forgotten shadow

Omnipotent Flame

Rising above us all,

Staring it above us on a thrown most tall,

This judge of god, wraith of summer,

Which melts our mind till we are dummer,

Who burns us in a wave of heat,

But gives of the light to ripen the wheat,

Who are we to judge that star?

He is immortal, We are mortal,

Doomed and damned and cursed and vile,

So who are we to judge the Judge of God?

So what do you all think of those two little poems? I'll now put up the stuff from my regular Saturday writing course, both are stream of consciousness style of writing. Basically the internal monologue of JD from Scrubs but writen not a voice over.

Scott watched the fire ball in his hand.
 How I love the dance of Flames, like a hundred people dancing to the music in a disco. How I miss Charlseton's dancin'-'all, it's blaring light, the glory of the DJ box, and how easy the girls fell for me.
Scott sighed his thoughts and threw the fireball at the carriage side making it disapate into smoke.
 I miss home, but I can't go back, it's just ruins now, burnt by my hand. Argh, I never asked for this, not now, not ever. The fire in my hear burns a hole into reality, and sure I've got superpowers, but 40, I won't live long enough to do anything. I'll just be an old withered man ready to die on some street, and I'll won't get any support for my life from government. I must find those shards, I've got two already.
Scott looked at his hand as it imergedfrom his pocket.
They're beautiful, like glowing rubies, but wait why isn't that part glowing? Ah shit, they've cut me again! I'll need a bag for them, or I'll bleed for the fire wing. How I hate my existance, orphaned, cursed, hunted and now cutted. How much worse can it be? Some alien abmomination jumping down from the ceiling and ripping open my guts and eat my liver? I've already had to deal with super natural horrors, why not Sci-Fi? Well at least the walls of this carriage would be painted a nicer colour then grey of teacher. Now if only had some spray cans, Ha!

That was based on novel idea I've got, which I'm starting to think I should write it like that, I would be interesting. The next peice is just some set alone writing, but it's got a hyperlink, so enjoy the video on Cracked!

Craig spat into the chocolate vat.
Why did I do that? It's a cruel expiriment, horrible and no-one will probally notice. It' not like the spitle will survive, the chocolate would be as smooth as ever, as sweet and true. My I'm evil, but they deserve it, I've my whole life for a higher quality of chocolate, and they just scoff it down like the cheap stuff. It's not that I hate the cheap stuff, I just despise the habit it creates, no appriantion of their chocolate anymore and they keep on treating it as the low quality junk, so they deserve what they get. The cheap chocolate us like the stabilizers on a bike to help support the child in their first few cycling trips, not give them bad eating habits when it comes to chocolate. It's to get them hooked to chocolate, Oh wait, that makes chocolate sound like a drug. Should stop watching Cracked videos in how cereal mascots are drug pushers of the cereal, stupidly brilliant Cracked!

I like Cracked, it show you all sort of fun facts like; how to prove if a real man is also crazy, Ten plants that are absolutly insane, the vehicles of real (insane) animals, and six things science can't explain! So now you can reach true (*cough**Cough*) Enlightenment. Also they have classic photoplasty competition's which rock like crazy. I hope you will also enjoy this stimulating critque of modern life that is http://www.cracked.com/, and yes I did just hyperlink it again to emphises my point!

 Last week I had my summer testes and for some reason I just did squat awful;
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But at least I got holidays, YEAH! But then I had an accident on Wednesday, to which I fell onto the ground and sevrely hurt my lower back ( back, not botox before you say anything.) And I was in cripping pain for the rest of the week, more, well, um;
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also sneasing hurts as it force me crumple my body ans cause excutiating pain,
  The painful one,
                Me, Myself, and an eye!