Another one I made today

The second one I made

Jordan showed me this sweet program I could play with. Here's something I worked on.

I apologize for this post being a day late. I recently got an infection in the right side of my jaw. I was sleeping all day yesterday from the medication. In pain and swollen, but feeling better now.

Anyway, this is a shout-out to a very good friend of mine named, Matt. He is in writer's club and he is awesome.

Psychotic

He likes to play games,

fucked up little games.

These same games

I don’t want to play.

Death is what he likes,

and murder’s

in his crazy house.

As he dances with the Devil

in his happy little world he sings

a song that keeps me screaming

and insane.

Blood pouring from the sky,

evil thoughts keeps him high.

666

when the moon is full.

Like Chucky all he wants to do

is erase your soul

and take your body;

and like Dahmer
all he wants

is to eat your body,

eat your guts.

Yes he’s nuts,

really nuts.

Is it really me?

Hopefully not.

His crazy world

keeps me blind.

No time to unwind,

yes his wife is a butcher knife.

And like Jason

he’ll be right behind yah

after yah run,

run and scream –

No, it must be told,

I don’t know this man.

This mad man is damned

and this mad man thinks he’s me.

All he wants is to take my brain,

he just wants to kill my being.

Yes, seeing his thoughts

leaves me paralyzed,

oh fuck,

now he got me,

I guess I’m

Fucking nuts.

Written by: Matt Schuster

My newest art piece. I drew Nicholas Hoult from various films such as "Warm Bodies" X-Men First Class, etc. He is super CUUUUTE xD

Today, I want to show you my favorite ring that I have created last winter. I named it Sheogorath after the Daedric God of Madness.

It has been 23 years today since Benny Hill has passed on. As a tribute, I post one of my favorite monologues. Rest in peace.

THE BIRDS AND THE BEES by Benny Hill I'd reached the age of fourteen and I hadn't started courting, And my mum was getting worried about me. She said, "Dad, it's time you told him all about the birds and bees," He said, "The birds and bees," and sat me on his knee. He said, "Now, remember Uncle Joe and that picnic a while ago, How he went off into the woods with Auntie Pat? And how I chased O'Reily's daughter and what happened when I caught her?" I said, "Yeah," he said, "Well birds and bees does that." Dad works very hard indeed, well he got ten kids to feed, Well ten and seven ninths to be precise. And we all wear hand-me-downs, and as I am the youngest, And the others are all girls, it ain't very nice. Dad said, "It's time that you got wed," I said, "I'd rather drop down dead," He said, "Now how about old Maude from Ikely down?" I said, "Maude?  Not bloody like, she's been out by half the chaps in Ikely," He said, "Well Ikely's really quite a little town." He said, "You've got to get a wife, you can't go on enjoying life, Or folks with think you're strange and start to frown." I said to him, "Look, why should I buy a book? When there's a thriving, lending library in the town." One day I found a friend, he was up by Badgers End, A little pigeon fell down by my feet. His feathers was flecked with red and at first I thought he was dead, Then I knelt and I felt his little heart still beat. I cupped him in my hands and I ran home to my mam, And she said, "Son, I'm as proud of you as I can be. You're thoughtful and you're kind, and you've got a gentle mind, And that will do a treat for your old father's tea. I said, "You shall not touch my bird," and without another word, I took him in my room and I shut the door, And then I bathed and I warmed him and I nursed him back to health, 'Cause you see, I'd never really had a friend before. I taught him little tricks, like playing dead and picking up sticks, And the village girls, they brought bird seed every day. Oo! "Dad, you can't come in," I'd shout, "Or my birdie will fly out," But of course I let the village girls all stay. Well there was Mable from the stable, and Mary from the dairy, We had a visit by our beauty queen. And that great big Betty Mavery, and she's got her own avery, She's got the biggest parakeets I've ever seen. Dad said, "You ought to let him go," and Mum, she said, "Oh no, You just want to get some shooting practice in." But the vicar said, "My son, it really isn't done, And to lock up a wild thing, that's a sin." One morning when it was all still, I took him up to Badgers Hill, I lost the only little friend I had that day. Not a word I said, I just kissed his little head, And I opened my hands and I watched him fly away. He circled up and 'round, and then he settled on the ground, And off he went straight up to the sky. And then I looked and I could see he was flying back to me, And then he swooped and he pooped right in my eye. I thought, "That's bloody rude!" and, "Cor, there's gratitude!" And, "I hope they never cross a pigeon with a cow!" And Dad said, "Here, there's I see a caper, I'll go get a bit of paper, I said, "Don't be daft, he's miles away by now!" Dad said, "I know you lost a friend, but it's really not the end, You'll be married and have a family of your own quite soon." Well I never said a word, but you see, that little bird Has lured eighteen little ravers up to my room! So if anyone's got a spare cockatoo or an old crow they don't want, I'd be very much obliged, because you know, I could put them to good use. http://monologues.co.uk/Benny_Hill/Birds_and_Bees.htm

This is a particular favorite of mine from last semester's poetry class.

It's Okay, He Loves Me

From across the room he stares at me until I catch him
I blush, he smirks
He likes me
His words to me were so sweet
Even the bees hung on his every word like it was nectar
Maybe he loves me
We kiss as if it was the only thing keeping us alive
He loves me
I argue with him and he yells at me
It's fine, he loves me
He grabs my arms when I turn my back on him
He digs his fingers into my flesh
Don't worry, he loves me
His temper flares and he slaps my face
He loves me
I try to flee but he pulls me back
He throws me to the ground
He gets on top of me and puts his hands on my throat
My lungs catch fire
It's okay, he loves me

Written by: Katherine Nelson

This isn't new, but it sings something deep from my heart.


  My Heart's Wish

I had a dream that was sung from the inner most desires of my heart. Something I have wanted more than anything in the world. I dreamed that I met George Roger Waters from the greatest band in my lifetime, Pink Floyd. For a long time, I have yearned to tell all five members how much I love them and to thank them from the bottom of my heart for their wonderful gift. I consider them one of the most significant parts of my life, because they were there when I was feeling down at an early age. I would watch their Live at KQED and Live at Pompeii shows as much as possible and I loved every second of it.

Although it tears me up inside that I may never have a real chance to tell at least one of them how I feel, I still have my dreams. In my dream, I was standing in line to get their autograph. I was standing next to someone who looked like Roger. I was skeptical, but I knew it was really him. My eyes welled with tears and I leaped into his arms. I squeezed him so tightly, I could feel his long, gray hair in my face and I said to him, “Thank you..thank you so much for everything.” It felt so real; I could swear I wasn't dreaming.

Needless to say, I felt pretty bummed when I awoke in reality. Where it was just a fantasy and Pink Floyd was just a flight of fancy; an obsession. As I write this however, I feel very grateful for what I have in my life. My family, my friends, and my love for Pink Floyd.

Written By: Julianne Micheletti

Another ring I made a while back.

Another shout-out to a pretty cool dude. His second poem on this blog.

Brewing on the Lake?

Floating on crystal, our factory labors.
Profit aplenty in this surreal concept.
A brewery on a lake.
Men march to the alcohol's time clock.
Happy to work, grateful for the employ,
at the brewery on the lake.
Shopping malls build themselves,
houses join them, to home the men,
brewing on the lake.
Investors flock, to make more shops,
and homes. We even have a theater,
by the brewery on the lake.
Shut up, blaring clock, leave me be!
I would rather be right here, always
at my brewery on the lake.

Written by: T. Lwanga Lord

Hello all!! My newest work! Tell me what you think!

Oblivious

I wake up in prison
No memory of who I am
Where I am from
Or what I have done

A rude man across the hall
Is my only company
Speaks of my doom
My fate is sealed

Hark! The guards approach
The man has his last laugh
Are they here to kill me?
Wait, who's that man in regalia?

A man of great importance
The Emperor himself
Claiming to know me
I stand in awe and listen

A secret entrance reveals itself
Dust fills the air
I am a free woman
To pursue a second chance

The passage is dark
I stick close for safety
What ho? A foe in red cloak
Come to kill the Emperor

The guards fight well
Alas, one is slain
A young woman of beauty
Appearing to be my age

The remaining part disappears
I scavenge for clothing
For weapons to aid
I'll borrow her Katana (she doesn't need it)

Goblins, rats, and darkness galore
More loot and riches found
To aid my new-found freedom
Will I find the party again?

Our paths cross once more
Danger around every corner
The guards hold fast
The Emperor by my side

He hands me his amulet
An amulet of glimmering gold
And a large, sparkling ruby
Is this goodbye?

A man clad in crimson and armor
Forces a knife in the Emperor's back
A regal man spread on the ground
And red death standing before me

The Katana shows great promise
The red death is bested
The last guard remains
Distraught over his failure

I have been entrusted
To carry out the Emperor's deed
The Katanas collected for burial
I'm on my own again

More rats, goblins, and darkness
Yet, the path shows bright light
Beyond the gate breathes life anew
Wish me luck in my future endeavors

Written by: Julianne Micheletti 04/07/2015

Going for an oldie today :)

Sorry for the late post; blood donation today. Needed to lay down for a while.

Monster

The monster hides where I'll never look

When I'm happy, it runs

When I'm lonely, it peaks

It pretends to be friendly

So I may feel comfort

When I see the monster

Great pain follows

It appears at my weakest

Eyes black at midnight

A fanged, twisted smile

Skin paler than the dead

Body of a frail woman

Tattered, stained clothing

Commands me to harm myself

Tells me I am alone

My eyes well with tears

Hers, an inky blackness

My nose drips blood

As well as hers

The monster is me

I terrorize myself

As well as people I love

I am my own enemy

I am my own terror

I am the monster

Written by: Julianne Micheletti 12/21/2014

Edited: 04/08/2015

Here is another piece from a lovely lady in my poetry class.

Untitled

The winter in my heart has been growing
Pressing outward
Betraying the vows that quivered from my lips
All these years causing pain feeling trapped

My love once of lava now turns hard... black
Childish dreams of what was expected and taught
Images flashing before me, the choking flood
BOOM... clarification

Angelic hymns ring in my head
Forcing the page to turn and a new song
to take hold. At dusk I fly
Burst through the fear and make a new dream

Written by: Leanne

This just in! "Tonight I Drink to your Memory" is the First Place winner of the Third Annual Writer's Club Contest. I knew that was a winner! I KNEW IT!

Anxiety

Stop looking at me
You're making me ill
Your judgmental eyes
Pierce me like needles
In my mind
It's painful
I look away to
Protect myself
From your gaze
My chest is caving in

My stomach is inflating
I want to run away and hide
My jaw is clamped shut
I'm glued to my seat
I have turned to stone
Yet I feel like
I am a ticking time-bomb
Of explosive anger
I need help.... fast
I'm scared

Written by: Julianne Micheletti 11/07/2014

Hello all, I apologize for not posting in a long while. To keep it short, life has it's demands. However life also hands you some cool stuff. I found out that the competition I entered last Winter Term for the Writer's club book had ended and winners were chosen. I placed first in the competition with two of my best poems; "Tonight I Drink to your Memory" and "Silent Maiden." I knew picking them would be a good idea. The prize is a free copy of the book when it's published and $25 (although I don't know in which form.) I feel so happy that I won and I did not expect this outcome at all. I will remain humble but I have learned that I actually have a flare for writing. I don't know anything else right now and the book is still in the works, but I will update when I know more.

On another note, I have not written anything new; writer's block is a bitch. I will keep trying though. If I finally come up with something, I may want to run it by writer's club first for any necessary changes. Happy Easter!

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