Budding Creative Writers

Fairy Magic

noreply@blogger.com (shyloh's poetry) — Sun, 09 Sep 2007 00:49:00 +0000

Fairy Magic

Follow the footsteps of the fairies
they will lead you silently
across the field of berries
prancing alone with silver wings
in mystical gardens full of many things

Along the fairy paths are cloves
trolls hide under the bridges by the droves
worry not; a bark keeper with a hollow soul
will keep things under control

Waterfalls with shining lights
trees that whisper during the night
"come," they say," let me fill you with delight"

Beyond the gate; magical dragons await
don't hesitate, they are spell weavers
that will make you believers
There is no anger in their fire
only wanting to please your desire

Wizards dance with silhouettes
along the castle walls
and if you peek through the windows
you can see beasts and beauties
dancing in the halls

Yes, all things are mystical
much more masterful
when we can believe in fantasies
that are sooooooooo colorful

copyright 2003 by shyloh

Paralysis

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 13:57:00 +0000

This creative piece is written by Budding Creative Writer's newest writer, Tanveer. Tanveer currently has limited access to the Internet, so she has asked me to contribute her work instead. She will be creating a writing account on Budding Creative Writers soon.

PARALYSIS

A House by the road in a village in Punjab.
She lay on a cot covered with a flimsy Chunni. A transparent bag collected her urine, the tube attached disappeared under her garments. I shuddered at her limp body. She must be 70.

Her breath was laboured and her trembling voice was capable only of whispers. Her ring finger was chopped off. I imagined its story belonged to some unlucky day when the teeth of the fodder machine bled more red than green. Now farm and fresh air are wheelchairs away.

As we were leaving, she asked my mum 'Don't you have a son?'

Hers is in Canada.

Tanveer

Admin's Corner: Cash for Poll Winners

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 06:09:00 +0000

This is going to be a very short post as my net connection is faltering.

Very soon, there will be google ads on this blog. The basic idea is to generate some amount of money so as to make available cash prizes for the poll winners.

Sorry for ending so abruptly, but there's no knowing when my connection may falter again and I get disconnected.

The Lake in the Valley

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 05:44:00 +0000

The ripples ran through the water,
As the stones I threw around splashed.
Contours of different sizes and patterns,
Danced up and down the glass.

Watching the ripples, I felt I could relate,
Only then the stones had not been my own.
I picked another stone and tossed it in,
To watch the ripples hone and moan.

I reflected back on the friend I had lost,
As the sky looked at me from the lake.
To that valley, I often did come,
The raison d’être, I always made.

I asked myself why, tried to think it out,
The stones I threw know how I tried!
But all in vain, even as I looked in the water,
My left eye could not see the right.

They said it was utopia, called it paradise,
Yes, in that valley, nature was at its stark!
But I missed my friend, felt lonely in the world,
The utopia was gloomy and dark.

I knew it was time to head back home,
The sky was shifting and I was running late.
But before I left, I kissed some flowers,
And silently laid them by her grave.

Looking The Other Way

noreply@blogger.com (GawjuzKel - Racquel) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 14:09:00 +0000

It's been so long,

since I heard our song.

The one that makes,

my lonely heart break.

But just today,

I heard the radio say,

they would play it within the hour.

When our song did come on,

I just sat there in a day dream.

Thinking of you,

makes my heart break in two.

The way you treated me that night,

it was not fair, it was not right.

I see you around alot these days,

but you always seem to look the other way.

I never have loved before,

as much as I have loved you.

And all I seem to get when I try to show you how I feel,

is you, looking the other way.

I'm sitting here feeling lonely,

and your only a phone call away.

I don't know whether to call you,

or even what I should say.

I would really like to talk,

and tell you how I feel.

I think and dream about you,

these feelings are surreal.

Every thought about you,

makes my body tingle.

Even though your taken now,

I wish that you were single.

My lonely heart misses a beat,

every time I see your face.

She doesn't treat you right,

can I please take her place.

Forgive me if I love you,

I don't know what else to do.

Do you honestly think,

I could love anybody else but you.

I have and never will love any man,

as much as I love you.

I hope you understand,

the way you make me feel.

I hope one day that you will realise,

how very much you mean to me.

And that when I try to show you how I feel,

you will stop looking the other way.

Admin's Corner: Polling

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 17:44:00 +0000

Hello and my deepest thanks to everybody for helping kick start Budding Creative Writers. If things continue to proceed at the pace they are now, we'll soon be able to boast of a writer base of hundreds, and a viewer base of thousands! My eternal gratitude to everyone who helped shape a germ of an idea into a concrete body of literary writings.

From today, I've introduced a new element to the Blog, which I hope will help raise the popularity of the blog amongst its fellow writers and readers. Every week, we're going to have an informal 'Creative Piece of the Week Contest,' in which everything posted the previous week will be put to vote in order to decide last week's best piece of writing. Not only will this boost the morale of the winner and encourage him/her to write yet more, it will also make the not-so-lucky ones all the more determined to come out with better pieces of writings every time.

I really haven't thought anything about prizes for the winner and everything.
While the option of having last week's winning post occupy the topmost space of
the blog always remains open, I'd appreciate it if you people came up with more and better creative ideas.
Please post your suggestion in the Comments section. Also, I am using the Author's penname in the polling area and not their real names,
as that was leading to long, confusing, titles. And if you don't see your work in the polling list,
please don't despair - you must have posted near the end of the week, and your work
will DEFINITELY be there in next week's polling list.

One last thing before I finish this. You've undoubtedly noticed the small RSS icons that have suddenly sprung up on the left hand side of the blog. One of them is the 'Bump Rank' of the site on TheMillionRss (http://www.themillionrss.com) feed. If you like the writings on the blog, or like the way the blog and fellow members function, or like just about anything else on the blog, please DO click on the 'BUMP My Site' link. It'll take you only about ten seconds, but every increase in Bump Rank increases the chance of blog viewership by a good ten percent.

Vote wisely (not very creative, is that?)

The Showman - Samarth Chandola

THE SEA DRIVE!

noreply@blogger.com (IPSY-Ipsita) — Sat, 11 Aug 2007 12:16:00 +0000

Its just a thought that i felt which had reached a big bubble inside my head,so i thought of jotting it down,maybe it opens some space for verity.

The Sea Drive

Ever been to a sea?Ever experienced the rising waves vanishing into the huge sea again?Ever seen the fishes come up to the boat with those queer eyes to believe with a shock that there exists another world besides their own?Sounds weird though. But the calmness, the serenity and peace experienced near sea is undefinable.People have now facilitated cruises furnished with everything to a theatre to a fancy restaurant and everything a modern man would want to visit, not realizing that they are destroying one of the finest pleasures of the world. With theatres, spas and all the fancy stuff equipped to promise their clients the alleged pleasance, actually make the very clients forget , or rather busies them to such an extent that they have but little time to come and stand on board and experience the unfathomable ,undefined ,exuberant panorama of the water beneath you. People in their haste have no time to experience the passage of time on sea, to watch the waves compete with us, to watch the bewildering eyes of the fishes and to feel and flavour the sound of water crashing onto the watercraft's sides!

He's guiding the way

noreply@blogger.com (GawjuzKel - Racquel) — Thu, 09 Aug 2007 14:58:00 +0000

Even though i didn't know him I wrote this for a dear friend of mine that lost her youngest brother recently. I just thort id share it with you all.

Words can not express the way, that you & your family must be feeling this day.
My thorts are with you all, each in a different way.
Through every hour in every day, until your pain slowly eases away.
Try not to think of this in a sad way, because i'm sure he wouldn't want you feeling that way.
Remember him always being happy & glad, never remember him angry or sad.
It's going to be hard, this we know anyway.
It'll get easier with him guiding the way.

I'll Be There

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Thu, 09 Aug 2007 12:09:00 +0000

Today the world will stop and stare at you,
And flood you with questions, some so old, and some so new.
Bless and Pray,
People will say.
They’ll wish you success and sit with you,
Hoping you get a bite of the success fruit,
For it’s your D-Day,
The Moment of Truth.

But never once will you see me there.

And when finally the fated hour shall arrive,
People will scream with joy, and let out their cries.
They’ll shake your hand and pat your back,
And some of them might even take off their hats!
And standing there, reflecting upon life,
You’ll have every reason, to swell with pride.

But never once will you see me there.

But if heaven forbid, the Hour passes,
Caressing dejection amidst the gathered masses,
That gloomy figure in the corner,
Might be you,
And the same people who celebrated,
Now could be consoling,
“It’s not the end of the world, for you to be so sad.”
“Come now, it really can’t be all that bad.”

But never once will you see me there.

And after everyone’s left, if you’re still dejected,
And lie all alone, feeling quite rejected,
I’ll come over and squeeze your hand,
“It’s ok – think of it as life’s little prank.
You might have lost this bout, but rest assured we will see,
You emerging as the victor, and the last laugh shall be thee.
This is merely a stepping stone,
For you to keep pressing forward towards your goal.”

That’s the time when you’ll see me there,
And I will not return,
Until your burdens, I have fully shared.

The End

noreply@blogger.com (Teh_Grimm) — Wed, 08 Aug 2007 06:41:00 +0000

I think I'm just wasting time until I figure out how to start my next long narrative poem.

With that look in your eyes,
I thought I'd die,
We spent our days, together
Wondering if it'd last forever.

Your eyes clear as the sky
They always make me shy
I've loved you since I can remember.
That fateful day in December.

I laid beside you, crying,
as you were screaming, dying
The driver of the car never knew,
Something inside me died with you.

As I sit and stare outside,
Quietly crying inside,
The sky is crying too,
For we remember you.

Zach White - 14.

Sanitarium

noreply@blogger.com (Teh_Grimm) — Wed, 08 Aug 2007 06:41:00 +0000

This must be the single crapiest thing I think I've ever written.

As I lay in this bed,
Thoughts dizzying my head,
Authority thinks me crazy,
I think their all just lazy.
Pump me full of drugs,
To stop me seeing bugs,
The bugs which want to eat me.
They think I'm out of my tree.
The drugs don't work,
The clown is berserk,
He follows me screaming,
Until I know I'm not dreaming,
The Barred Windows stop me seeing outside,
I'm more terrified of whats inside,
Aliens dressed all in white
Visit me every night
And tie me down,
I think that I might drown,
I don't wanna lose my life,
I want to find a pretty wife,
Have some kids,
Keep my lid,
I'd never kill again,
The only relief is this pen,
Murder is behind me,
I know what its like to not be free,
But the clown is always there,
And I hate the bugs flying in the air,
The white alien says "Bedtime",
I run to the wall and try to climb,
but they tackle me to the ground,
No cure for me has been found.
I scream and try to fight,
But they stick a needle in me and say "Goodnight,"

Im stuck inside this institution.
They said it was the only solution.
Everyday is always certain tedium.
Nothing but death inside this sanitarium.

The Dark Tower - A Tribute

noreply@blogger.com (Teh_Grimm) — Wed, 08 Aug 2007 06:41:00 +0000

He walked out of nowhere towards nowhere,
His fate not one he can share.
Across the desert he heads west
The last of the Gunslingers, the best
Over the mountains the Dark Tower
The source of all power

It shines so brightly, glowing in the sun
He fears it slightly, wishing his work was done
The shining red tip, where the doors are kept,
Where a mind could slip,where the Gods have slept
He has to fight through crowds, over the mountains
Covered by clouds, wrapping it like curtains

The Gunslingers trip has been a hard one,
The death of his father, his world and son
A promise made to his dying love
As the world burnt, a single dove
And red rose petals signalled the end
Of the world, and the Gunslingers friends.

The Man In Black fears the Gunslinger
For the Dark Man he is a doom-bringer
Nothing but a flaw in what he's planned
For at the Dark Tower he makes his stand
The Devil is hypnotising, sweet to hear
But sending towns crazed with fear

The Dark Man has no face, no soul
Hardly even living at all
The Tower is important, a symbol,
if it could be used for evil
Then he could be a All-Knowing,
With his brain ever growing

It shines so brightly, glowing in the sun
He fears it slightly, wishing his work was done
The shining red tip, where the doors are kept,
Where a mind could slip,where the Gods have slept
The Dark Man knows, The Towers laws
Where life grows, its power common lore

The Dark Man sets a trap here and there
The Gunslinger had best take care
The Man in Black wants the tower too
There he shall stage his coup
Through all the worlds the he can trace
All the universes the Dark Tower holds in place

It shines so brightly, glowing in the sun
He fears it slightly, wishing his work was done
The shining red tip, where the doors are kept,
Where a mind could slip,where the Gods have slept
His trusty gun, defeated the slow mutants,
Three from one, one is feeling mutinous

As the Gunslinger continues west
The Dark Man tries to destroy the pest
But is stopped, defeated, torn
By a God in human form
The Gunslinger ends his trip
He fears he must now slip

It shines so brightly, glowing in the sun
He fears it slightly, wishing his work was done
The shining red tip, where the doors are kept,
Where a mind could slip,where the Gods have slept
It towers above, something like a droning call
Flying past a dove, and rose petals fall

He climbs his way to the top
It could be a long long drop,
The marble walls are cool to touch
The pressure was simply too much
And he knows he must not cower
For now he faces The Dark Tower.

Night of the Solstice

noreply@blogger.com (shyloh's poetry) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 19:43:00 +0000

Night of the Solstice

We have a moon's eye view
watching Orion's starry belt
sailing across the sky
a warrior that one cannot deny

As I gaze into your eyes, your face appears silent
amazed at the scenery of the beautiful hue
what a blessed event to be shared with you

This is the night of the solstice
when the red burning sky sinks deep within our soul
you are breath taking; a sight to behold
you complete me and make me whole

Our first journey our first glimpse
blending into the cosmic events
hold my hand; look into the light
hear songs as the spirits perform
with the beat, our hearts unite
into infinite form

Maybe we can sneak a kiss by Venus
drink from the Milky Way
I don't want to venture alone
here with you in the sea of stars
is where I want to stay

by ~shyloh~

Playing Games In The Rain

noreply@blogger.com (GawjuzKel - Racquel) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 16:51:00 +0000

The rain falling down sounds so beautiful, as it hits the roof and ground.
It's been raining here since six this morning, I hope you have had some aswell.
To help fill the creek and help the grass grow.
So you get more yabbies and the sheep can feed themselves.
Oh, what lovely weather this is, and what fun we could be having.
Games in the rain we would be playing.
Just you and me and no one else around.
Making love in the rain with you on the ground.
Rain is beautiful for so many reasons

NATURAL SYMPHONY

noreply@blogger.com (IPSY-Ipsita) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 14:53:00 +0000

This passage has been written keeping in mind the backdrop of a visit to a Woods.So if read with the Woods at mind,it gives more substance.Thank you.

The sounds at night are probably the most orphic of all the sounds heard through the day. They suggest a hint of mystery, every element is curious and it compels one to marvel the symphonic intensity, all these elements of mystery create once they are in synchronization with one another. It is indeed a pleasurable phenomenon if one is able to actually appreciate the confluence of such auditory sensation. It is an affair that is ever available for everyone to notice but unfortunately only few do. The slow and soft hushing and swishing of the plantation, the rustling of the dry leaves, the continuous humming and chatter of the seven-sisters and the sharp notes of some queer bird at the distance in the fading twilight, create an aura around the domain. These along with the slightly flowing serene winds suggest a complementary existence to one another. It is most fascinating and intriguing at times to sit down to listen and explore these melodies, which have been so beautifully incorporated into our lives, so uninvolved of any artificiality, yet having the most unequalled beingness.they induce the elements of creation into our exceedingly monotonic and wearisome lives. These profound phonations suggest the very presence of nature. Howsoever tedious, mechanical and overbearing our lives may seem, or actually become, it’s enigmatic to know that you are still surrounded by the COSMEA wherever you go. These sounds are cogent evidence that, howsoever, we might have tried to minimize the presence of nature around us……., it still exists in all its stark beauty and tempestuous presence.

Whose Fault is it Anyway?

noreply@blogger.com (ssp) — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 12:08:00 +0000

Allegations, Suspicions,
Threats and Accusations,
A world torn apart,
Resting in the centre, wild confusion.
Devious minds, working their craft,
And deep inside, a broken heart,
Battle it out in Cyberspace.
But pray, just wait,
Whose Fault is it Anyway?

They formed a band,
And it quickly grew large.
Targeted the Showman,
And undertook a bombing barrage.
For the leader of the band,
Had a spat with the man.
And for the spoils of war,
Others embraced his cause.
They did not ask, who was at fault?
And with impudence, blew the war call.

But for once,
The Lone Showman wasn’t alone,
Surrounded by allies, he wasn’t prone.
Military aid rushed from here and there,
A small conclave was formed and with the utmost care,
War plans were made, strategies discussed,
Vows were taken to crush the enemy to dust.
But over here too, nobody bothered,
To have an insight into the matter.
To see if it was the Showman who was at fault,
For they believed, War was God’s own call.

Nobody thought, and the war began,
Loomed in distrust,
And amidst disgust,
Everybody bit into the other’s crust.
Everything unjust, everything fair,
Because nobody here, really cared,
About the common man – robbed of his corn.
Everybody losing sense of right and wrong.
And all through this, they keep on striking,
Nobody asks, why they’re fighting.

And so they fought,
With their guns for glory.
Uranium warheads were also in the story.
Precision Bombing, Biological Weapons,
Coordinated Strike, Chemical Explosions.
Cyber Superiority, Tactical Decisions,
Malicious Code, Data Encryption.
Cyber Punks out to get each other,
Evading Cyber Law,
Two Cyber Gangs out to eliminate the other.

In their furious attempts to outshine the other,
They misplaced morality, turned deaf to the cries of widows and mothers,
Lost count of the number of lies and truths,
Went beyond the rules specified in the book.
What mattered to them, was who had might?
In the realm of Cyberspace, who could provide?
Who was the Emperor and who was the Knave?
Were questions with which they greeted each other everyday.
And as the war progressed, day by day,
Never did they ask, Whose Fault is it Anyway?

And they kept on fighting and fought and fought,
Strategic Formations, Air Raids and Blasts.
And they fought till they forgot why they were fighting,
Yet carried on, just for the sake of fighting.
“We don’t really know why we’re shooting,
But when we were born, people were already killing,
And we grew up with lessons on hatred and hurls,
And always assumed, this was the world.
And we know we’re right,
Because this is how it has always been,
A different world, we’ve never seen.
So why stranger, do you look as if what I say is mirth?
‘Tis not an alien world, this is the Earth.”

And one day finally, the fighting stopped,
No more guns, no more war.
The storm did pass, but left behind a wreck.
Everything destroyed, both sides dead.
The only people left,
Were the ones who started the war.
They gained nothing more than what they had.
Neither won, and both lost, but nobody grew wiser.
And they said, “We’ll come again to deal the final blow.”
And the Showman shrugged, “’Twas just another show.”
Nobody was wise enough to stop and ponder,
To think beyond the distant yonder,
And nobody stood up that day to say,
Whose Fault had it been Anyway?