Recent Articles In Writing » Page 6
June 12, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
I want to give you something You’ve never been given before Something deserved To make you think Before you speak in future And bash someone else senseless With your callous, cavalier invective I want to give you something A present or a gift, if you fancy Something thoughtful To remind you to be more Careful in the future So you won’t tear emotional strips Off someone who doesn’t deserve it I have a number of choices And this is my dilemma Whether I should ...
June 12, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
As I get older, I find myself less inclined to any grace and tolerance towards those who show none for others. I teeter-totter on the edge, berating lack-of-indicators, swearing at pedestrian-ignorers, fist-waving mobile phone drivers, and large battering-pram walkers. As I get older, I find myself more justified in my personal ire towards those who engender stupidity. I swing back and forth, verbally menacing bible-bashers, stultifying narrow-minders, vituperating rude-s...
June 12, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
I watched him run across the sand to the water. He stopped where it met the sand and waited for another wave to run up the beach at him. Tentatively, he dabbed his foot on the wet sand, testing to see if it the water was warm enough. A wave broke around his skinny legs, legs the same as mine and he was off, running towards the deeper water, lifting his legs in a loping gait familiar to all beach lovers. I continued watching him for a time as he ducked-dived under the waves before emerging aga...
June 12, 2008 by InBloom on My Bloom County
You vex me…especially in the afternoons when I wake up from a nap.   You are okay in the morning…but once that sun glow from the window is gone, replaced by the ugly artificial light, man, your mean streak comes out.   Hey, I do my best with what is given to me. I can only do so much…and btw, shouldn’t YOU be taking care of the streaks?   Okay, so, the streaks are my fault, but... do you have to make it so damned obvious that I don...
June 12, 2008 by InBloom on My Bloom County
Here is my writing challenge to all you talented word artists: Bring an inanimate object to  Life. Have a conversation with a coffee cup, create a love story between a hoe and a hose, have the can of yams on aisle 9 go on a rant.  Have us guess at your object...OR...have it be very obvious.  Make it fun, make it sad, make it angry. It doesn't matter...as long as you make it interesting. (I came up with this idea a few weeks back after an unsuccessfu...
June 5, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
He spins a lot of bullshit       Designed to make himself feel better About the world; About his job; About his relationships; About everything he cares for Or doesn’t give a damn about. He spins it in his head Then lets it spill out of his mouth And into the ears of anyone Willing to become a septic tank For his thoughts. The unfortunate thing about this Is most aren’t aware. They don’t have their bullshit filters Armed and ...
June 4, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
It felt the black surround and hold it in place.   Every time It moved, the shadowlight pulled against It, wrenching at its existence.   But each time, It could feel the shadow losing its grip, allowing It to slip a little further away than previously.   Soon, It would be completely rid of the shackles of this plane.   When this happened, It would feed as much as it wanted without the restrictions imposed by ritual and incantation.   But the procedure had to be f...
June 2, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
To get to the centre One has to start at the edge Be it of a social circle, A conversation Or achieving a dream   Its not as though One can hit the bullseye Without missing a few Yet so many try And believe they’re can   My limited experience Doesn’t grant me extra powers More a desire To remain peripheral While others rush past   Call me edgy if you want I’m happy w...
May 28, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
It was dark and cold.   A bitter wind blew around him as he traipsed along the dirt track.   There were high hummocks growing in the centre of it indicating the track hadn’t been used in a long time.   These brushed against his legs as he walked; startling him each time this happened.   He could taste the sharp metal of his anxiety in the back of his throat.                 &nbs...
May 22, 2008 by Pixeleo on Pixeleo's Place
I write my articles through Windows Live Writer, and I publish them on my JoeUser blog. I have a registered Stardock.net account, so is that why all my articles are automatically posted on WinCustomize forums too? Actually I registered with Stardock through WinCustomize somewhere in April. I read about JoeUser on WC, so I tried to make an account with the same username; but JoeUser told me that the username was unavailable. After seeing WC folk at JU, I followed my instinct and tried to log...
May 21, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
The shopfront still had a ‘For Lease’ in the window but activity inside negated this sign. A group of kids, noisy and nosey, were pressed up against the window, watching the goings on. The air around them fairly pinged with eager anticipation. The group broke apart suddenly, all members scooting across the footpath to stand by the gutter. As they did, the shop door swung open and a disembodied voice cajoled them. “Come in, kids, come on, come in.” None of the childr...
May 19, 2008 by SanChonino on The Suck!™
03 May 2008.  7:33am. We walk along the Rambla Nova, edging our way through the dense crowd.  The sun burns a bright blue, hot and oppressive in the white sky.  She walks in front of me, constantly looking back at me with those entrancing, sparkling eyes and smiling. Finally the crowd seems to thin a bit and I work my way up alongside her again.  She says something I can't make out and suddenly grabs my hand.  I'm surprised by this development, but I'm certainl...
I have seen many strange things in Florida, but the homeless people areperhaps the strangest.  They are the ones who would have frozen on thestreets of Detroit, huddled under some bridge with the sooty remnantsof a failed fire dusting a threadbare coat with ash; but here inFlorida, where the coldest nights demand little more than a goodsleeping bag and a little patience, there exists a curious strain ofhomeless that strains the definition of human . The first time I saw it, I was on a ...
May 1, 2008 by uDigItTheMost on Dig's Digs
Rod, the nihilistic pilgarlic Went to the bar quick, Feeling like scree being nudged.   If you’re gonna be a quidnunc , He wanted to get drunk, Because of what he did with the odious Italian judge.   He was married to Vera, a virago , And I sure even my Ma knows, They can be damn lippy.   A walking doryphore , Talking more than a whore, A 100% xanthippe .   They had a bobblehead boy, A real hobblede...
May 1, 2008 by dynamaso on The Detritus Of My Mind
Try as I might, I have been finding it particularly difficult to rise to the latest JUWC challenge. The fact that both Tova and Roy have done such particularly good jobs with theirs has left me bereft of ideas. Every time I try to start something, it evolves into a very poor second to Tova’s wonderful entry. But the words she chose are absolutely fantastic. Some of them I’d heard of before and had even added to my vocabulary (such as rive, odious and usurp). Others I’d read ...