Weather Report
By dnevesWeather Report
The maniquinned
prognosticator
in polyurethane luminescence
with papal ex cathedra in
Yves St Laurent and
ozone of Chanel 19;
Weather lady grabs pointer
and proceeds to announce:
"And now from our Weather Center...
contrary to what
you may have heard,
everything is NOT divine
(make no mistake about it)
so get out your umbrellas
(because you're gonna need 'em).
There will be tsunamis,
twisters and hurricanes,
there will be bugs, weeds and disease
(from the first ass wiping
to the final plug pulling),
in between will be dense fog
from confusion and deceit.
frost of apathy and complacency
and hail of injustice and avarice.
Tomorrow will be hazy, hot and stupid
followed by thunder and lightening
of loss and regret.
This is due to the curse from
the beginning of creation.
Any questions?"
Weather lady then closes
plastic lips and lives
to prognosticate yet
another day such as this.
Alone With Me
By dnevesAlone With Me
Alone with me-the polished wall
The mocking throng
that roams the hall;
As alone with me
in grief self made,
Will join that
bitter pity parade.
In one direction,
as evermore
Through the perpetual
EXIT door;
As though condemned
to a shallow grave
Which is this life
that someone gave-
To pose one last
riddle without a clue,
To the mocking throng
and pathetic few,
Who lose the game
that cannot be played,
And backstep in
the pity parade;
In that waiting hall
with the frantic throng-
While the worthless hours
only speed along;
With the virgin eye
never more to see
How it really is
to be alone with me!
Teetering on Twittering
By SteveFI was only half into this discussion as my eyes were still closed, but they had some writer/author there saying how they used Twitter to publicise their blog. Since my main writing blog (blogspot) has gotten exactly zero hits in the past month, I was thinking that might be a good idea. Part of that, of course, has to do with me not posting anything new. I've got the first two draft chapters of my current book there. (I never post finals there for future copyright reasons.) Anyway, I only got a couple of hits after I posted them a couple of months ago, and no comments.
Struggling to finish the book, I'm trying to ration my forum time, as well as my short story time, so that is why I haven't been posting there much.
Any opinions?
Other issues to consider:
Should I tweet under my real name (to match Authonomy and Facebook) or should I tweet under my main pseudonym (Atlanta Carter) which is the name on my blogspot, (my sorely neglected) LiveJournal, and at WritersCafe?
My List of Annoying Words
By kdOriginal word count: 129,000
Current word count: 107,000
Original page count: 360
Current page count: 397
How did the word count go down and the page count go up? I eliminated the first three chapters and about three thousand words of uselessness througout the manuscript. I also eliminated many of the dialogue tags and repositioned dialogue so that conversations would flow smoothly, which takes up space, hense the 397 page count.
I am now down to my 'List of Annoying Words' that I am plugging into my search box one by one to try and eliminate or change and, although, this is a personal thing, I thought writers who love to overwrite (like myself) might find it useful.
'Past'- why? because I seem to interchange 'passed' and 'past' on whim.
'Answered'- to replace or eliminated he/she 'answered' where possible
‘seemed’- because sometimes things don’t ‘seem’ that way, they are that way
‘Sudden’- because any phrase that starts with ‘Suddenly’ isn’t so sudden
‘But’- I use this to start phrases all the time so I’m trying to change it where possible and evit run on’s in certain cases
‘Just then’- same reason as ‘suddenly’-plus, phrases are stronger when we’re thrown into the action
Anything ending in ‘Y’- this is mostly for my unnecessary adjectives
‘Sort’- It’s not a ‘sort’ of rock. It is a rock.
‘Somewhat’- again. Like being ‘somewhat’ pregnant. You either are, or you aren’t.
‘And’- to limit my adjectives. ‘It was large and magnificent’- I need to pick one. And to evit run on’s once again.
‘Found’- she found herself feeling. He found himself thinking. They found themselves standing. Why is everyone always ‘finding themselves’? ugh!
‘Said’- ‘Yes’ she said. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Because.’ He said. Or ‘Yes.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because?’
‘Felt’- ‘She felt a rumbling in her stomach’ becomes ‘Her stomach rumbled.’
‘Begin’
‘Began’- ‘The ground began to shift. They were beginning to get frightened.’ Becomes ‘The ground shifted under their feet. They cried out, frightened.
‘Herself’- again. ‘asked herself’ ‘told herself’ ‘thought to herself’ ‘HATED herself!’
‘Themselves’- same thing
‘Could be seen’ – ‘The boys could be seen standing by the water.’ Becomes ‘The boys stood by the water.’These are all words that I picked up on over and over again througout my manuscript and they drove me nuts. So I hope compiling this list might help others who make the same mistakes as me. All the time.
Katie:)
3rd and Washington, Hoboken, NJ, USA, Feb 6, 2000
By dneves3rd and Washington, Hoboken, Feb 6, 2000
by David Neves
He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood;
an unpresentable homily
a malodorous anomaly that
takes no shelter on
the Sunday school wall
in pontificating Saxon superiority;
nevertheless-in stainless steel humility he
lifts styrofoam chalice to superior lips
sermonizing to no one nowhere who
do not chant in unison
as I sit and watch
musing in passive observation
I see that-
He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood
an unpresentable homily
a malodorous anomaly that is
crucified daily in parabolic dichotomy
knowing that "whosoever sins the most
casts more stones"
again and again and again
in what remains of morning of
pity without compassion
in loveless lust HE
takes no refuge under the arches
in sleepless pilgrimage but
WE as vicarious martyrs with
moral remote control still
MUST see him from the street
in passing through the window that-
He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood;
an undeniable homily-
a perishing anomaly with a message
that cannot reach,
that will not reach,
that must not reach...
"PLEASE STAND BY,
WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.
Extract from my book
By PatrickAunt Mary brought the tea over to the table and put a cup in front of everyone. Darren had had several bad experiences with tea at this house. Once he drank it to discover the cup was leaking, hot tea got spilled all over him. The cup he had just been given looked curiously like the same one, but glued.
“Go on, drink up everyone while it's still hot!”
Darren lifted the cup to his lips and sniffed the steam rising from the cup. He nearly got sick. The milk was sour.
“David, go on, have your tea!” She said. She took a sip of her own. She didn't seem to notice. His mother had certainly noticed, and she hadn't touched it.
“So Mary, how have you been keeping? Are you still meeting up with that man?” Darren's mother asked to distract her from the tea situation.
After that, they had mindless babble. Darren's mother was polite. Darren was not as polite, but he smiled and nodded when he was required to. He didn't listen to most of the conversation. It wasn't of any interest to him. Most of it was about the catholic church and religious matters.
“I'll just excuse myself, I need to use the bathroom if that's OK,” Darren's mother said.
Darren got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, probably feeling nervous at being left alone with the nutty old lady.
Julie left the room and Darren and Aunt Mary were left in silence.
“I see you haven't been too great lately, David.” Aunt Mary said with an all-knowing smirk on her face. She nodded to herself, acting as though she knew what she was talking about.
“Yes, I see a face, a face that will walk into your future soon, I'm sure you know of my psychic abilities, not that I'm boasting.
“Yeah, I know all about your psychic abilities, and I'm fine, I really think that the future should be a surprise.” Darren said.
“Is that so? Well I don't know Darren, I think you should hear me out, it's really important.”
“No thanks.”
Aunt Mary didn't reply. Darren didn't want to look at her. He hated her most of all when she started claiming to be a psychic. It was unlike her to give up so easily.
Darren looked over. Mary was sitting on the chair, looking right at him. Her face was pure white and her eyes had a look to them which suggested that, although she appeared to be staring, she wasn't seeing.
“Mary?” Darren asked, now frightened.
“Mary?! Are you all right?” Darren asked.
With no reply he got up and ran for the phone. She was having a heart attack, it had to be the only explanation. He looked back at Mary as he searched frantically for the phone. He stopped dead still, because she was still staring right at him, even though he had moved. Darren slowly walked to the other end of the kitchen towards her. Step by step, he felt more and more frightened. Step by slow step. He was standing a meter away from Aunt Mary now. She still stared right at him, like a wax figurine with unnaturally real eyes.
“Aunt Mary?” Darren asked waving his hand in front of her face.”
“You're in danger. Save yourself. Save yourself. You're in grave danger! Sometime soon, your soul will be torn apart by a force that has entered your life,” Aunt Mary said, with the same look in her eyes, the look as though she wasn't really there. Darren looked into her glazed over eyes, and deep down he knew that this was real. Aunt Mary was having a proper psychic episode. She was giving him a message. She still sat in silence, looking terrifying.
Then she woke from her daze.
“What are you doing, staring at me like I'm a zoo animal David? As an elderly person, I am inclined to doze off every so often.”
Darren exhaled a deep breath. He sat down. Had she been faking it? That was what Darren had so desperately wanted to tell himself, but how could he? The look in her face, nobody could put that on. She obviously didn't remember anything of it.
Darren's mother walked back into the room. She sat down and everything resumed as normal. Darren sat in silence, contemplating what she had told him. He was in grave danger, but from what? Darren felt frightened. This could very well have been Aunt Mary's first and last real psychic episode.
Darren and his mother were driving home. His mother had decided that they couldn't stay the night, she looked in the guest bedrooms and saw that they were very untidy, with Aunt Mary's possessions strewn everywhere in them. They weren't saying much, they were just happy to have gotten the visit over.
“Mum, do you think that Aunt Mary really does have... Well... Some kind of a psychic ability?”
“Ha! No, it's not likely. The best prediction she's ever given was when she said she was going senile ten years ago!”
“So... You think it's not possible?” Darren asked, one more time.
“Certainly not. Go on, tell me. What did she say to you this time? She loves to frighten people, you know.”
“I don't know Mum, she went a bit... Weird... And then she told me I was in grave danger, and that my “soul would be ripped apart” by an evil force.”
“You didn't believe that, did you? She used to do things like that to me all the time when I was a child, she used to terrify me, saying things like “You have a week to live”. Once she took out the tarot cards and I got the death card. She told me that I was almost certainly going to die. Well I'm still here now, aren't I, so she was wrong. Honestly Darren, she's always been a bit nutty, just don't pay her any attention.”
“OK,” Darren replied, somewhat happier. What had he been thinking? She had always said things like that to him, what made this time any different? Just because she had put on a better performance didn't mean that it was any more likely that she was talking sense. Darren put his mind to rest, happier in the knowledge that he was in no danger whatsoever.
Don't read this poem.
By JoeyThis poem tells you
The truth.
There is no scourge
As harsh as fact
Uncouth.
You will lose love
Watch someone die
In pain.
The poor will stay
Out on the street
In rain.
You'll be alone
Sometime, with tears
And sighs.
Despite all hope
And joy, everyone
Dies.
You will be told
To hold your tongue
Be quiet.
You will be told
Your ways are wrong
By bigots.
But while it lasts
Don't waste your life
A crime.
Send good will out
Give those you love
Your time.
But don't read this poem
This poem tells you
The truth.
Harsh words said.
By kelleherqueenSCENE I
(When the play opens, it is late in the evening and Alice is alone in the house. She is silently shedding tears and clutching her mother's silky scarf tightly.)
(Alice suddenly hears the front door slam closed and thumping of footsteps coming upstairs. Her Dad, Stephan, wearily walks into her bedroom and sits himself at the end of the bed.)
Stephan: Oh dear...you really are crying your eyes out, pet.
Alice: Well...what do you expect? You're not much of a picture either, Dad, with your sad grey eyes and tear soaked cheeks...
Stephan: I don't expect you to be anything other than upset, pet. Your mother was...she was a wonderful person.
Alice: She was. But she never will be again, will she? She's gone forever.
Stephan: Oh, don't say that, Alice. You'll see your mother again someday.
Alice: But, will I? Will you? How do we actually know that, Dad? All that is is faith alone.
Stephan: Kids these days...they question bloody everything.
Alice: It's called having a point of view, Dad.
Stephan: No, don't get me wrong, it's a good thing that you're so...so...obtuse. Opinionated people are smart people.
Alice: Mum was opinionated.
Stephan: She certaintly was...Why, when you were born she refused to do the housekeeping for two months! She claimed that partaking in such activities would completely over-exagerrate her maternal role. After having you, she said that that was enough wife/mother business for at least half a year. The last thing she wanted was to become a hyper domestic goddess and leave behind her precious bakery...that was her independance, that bakery. God knows where she would have ever been without it.
Alice: She was so much more than your standard mother, your standard wife, your standard anything. She was...she was special.
Stephan: You're damn right she was. She put a smile on someone's face every single day.
Alice: I'll bet. She was such a character...
(There is utter silence for a couple of minutes. Stephan pats Alice's shoulder awkwardly)
Stephan: At least...I mean, at least we were expecting it.
Alice: That's no kind of consolation, Dad.
Stephan: What I mean is...Look, it's not like your mother randomnly got hit by a bus one merry old day. It's not like it was some freak accident that killed her.
Alice: Stop it, Dad.
Stephan: We knew she was going to die. We both knew it in our hearts and souls. At least we had a year's notice. Could you imagine how much harder this would be if, by chance, she got murdered or something.
Alice: God Dad, you certaintly do have a way with words.
(Alice is clearly angered and stands up from her bed. She goes towards the door)
Stephan: Oh, for Gods' sake, Alice, where do you think you're going?
Alice: I don't care wherever the hell I'm going. As long as it's away from you.
Stephan: Alice! What is the matter with you?
Alice: What is the matter with me? Oh Jesus, if you could only hear yourself, Dad...you just...you...
Stephan: What are you trying to say, Alice? Whatever it is, just spit it out!
Alice: You don't care about Mum dying!
Stephan: I what?
Alice: You heard me and it's the truth. All you can do is go on and on about us being...being...lucky? Lucky? Sorry Dad, but I fail to see anything lucky about your own mother dying.
Stephan: Okay pet, I hope you don't mind me saying this but you're being just a little bit ridiculous.
Alice: Oh, am I? Well sorry if that bothers you. Hey, you have a know-it-all ridiculous daughter...but, you must be lucky because she isn't a serial killer...
Stephan: I'm warning you, Alice, you're beginning to hit my last nerve.
Alice: Oh well, you know what they say, like mother, like daughter.
Stephan: And what do you mean by that?
Alice: Everyone knows that Mum hit your last nerve, Dad. She drove you to insanity...You couldn't handle it, could you?
Stephan: What the...?
Alice: Let's face it, you married an attractive and carefree young woman and you were as happy as hell but she stopped being so attractive and carefree when her legs stopped working, didn't she? You weren't so sure you'd made the right choice after all - in marrying her. Your plan was that the two of you would live happily ever after - your plan was that you two would share the Dream. But it never happened when she had to use a wheelchair. It's hard to live the Dream when you have suddenly become the carer for your own spouse.
Stephan: Shut up, Alice.
Alice: You really couldn't deal with it, could you? You couldn't deal with the fact that she had become so moody and uptight about things. You couldn't deal with the fact that she now spent all day at home instead of at the Bakery - because she was always available to keep a keen eye on you, wasn't she? It wasn't the same as the olden days - when she would work endlessly at the Bakery every weeknight until she was tired and sore...When you had the house to yourself most evenings...
Stephan: I really am warning you, Alice...
Alice: Except it wasn't to yourself at all, was it, Dad? It was lovely and cosy here in the house - just you and Cheryl. Alone...
Stephan: You don't even know what you're talking about! It wasn't like that, Alice! It wasn't like that! It...
Alice: Oh, really? It was just an innocent daily visit, was it? Just an innocent role around on your and Mum's bed...
(At this moment, Stephan lunges forward and slaps his daughter across the face. There is silence between the two for awhile. Then, Stephan speaks. But he is speaking loudly, almost roaring)
Stephan: Now you listen here, Alice. You are far too young to even understand this! You are too young to understand anything! Christ above, you're only a little sarcastic kid with a wide vocabulary! But that doesn't make you grownup! That doesn't make you bloody well anything! All you are is a goddamn kid - you're nothing more! Now, you know bloody nothing about Cheryl! You know bloody nothing about what went on! So just don't act like I'm solely to blame for everything that happened! You're just taking your mother's side now! I bet she never told you about what she got up to?!
Alice: What do you mean?
Stephan: Ha, ha, ha! I thought not! Let me tell you something, Alice...your mother...she wasn't always little miss innocent Baker...No...your mother fooled me around more times than I...
Alice: I don't believe you! Mum could have never done it!
Stephan: Well, Mumsy did do it, Alice...We were only married one year when she'd already had her first affair...with this unemployed useless slacker...she was more devastated than me when she discovered I knew about it. She begged for forgiveness, of course, she started crying and sobbing and being all weepy and pathetic and I loved her so much that I took her back. She claimed it hadn't been anything serious - the occasional kiss and flirt - but that was as far as it had ever gotten. But I'm no idiot and I knew there was much more to her other relationship. Much, much more...
Alice: I know you're making it up, Dad, I know it!
Stephan: It's hard, isn't it? Discovering what your mother was really like.
Alice: You're just saying all this stuff to make you out as being the good guy.
Stephan: Fine. Don't believe me if you don't want to - Fine. But it's the truth, Alice. And the truth is that your mother was a little bit, well...
Alice: She was a little bit what, exactly?
Stephan: Let's just say she got around.
Alice: I hate you! I've never hated anyone more than I hate you! You're a jealous and spiteful old man! Your own wife has just died one week ago and now look at how you're talking about her! You should be ashamed of yourself, Dad. I wish you weren't related to me. I wish it was you that died, not Mum!
Stephan: Oh, do you?! What an unlikely coincedence! Because I never wanted you either! That's right - I never wanted one bloody kid! But your mother forgot to take the pill, you see, and...
Alice: I don't believe a word you say anymore!
Stephan: It's the truth, Alice! You were nothing but an accident! Ha, ha, ha - your mother didn't want you! I didn't want you! I really thought that a smart girl like yourself would have figured this all out years ago! Think about it for a minute, Alice, okay? Your Mum and I - we are - we were - a loving young couple! We both made great money! We both wanted nice furniture! A nice home! A nice car! Neither of us wanted nice children. I was utterly suicidal when I discovered your mother was pregnant! A child! What would I want with a goddamn child?! And as for your mother, she was so busy with her Bakery that she was completely uninterested, too! You were a lousy mistake, Alice! You were never anything else!
Alice: You...you...don't mean it...Y-you're just saying it because...because...
Stephan: Ha! Because what?!
Alice: I don't know! I don't care! I don't care about you! No-one has ever cared about you! Right, whatever, you and Mum didn't want me - but there are plenty of people now who do! More people for me than you! Let's count all the people who want you, shall we? Cheryl? Oh, sorry, she was more interested in your wallet...Your mother? No, she prefers Uncle Nigel...Your sisters? No, they're not close to you...Any neighbours? Any friends? Well, no, because you give a crap about either! You know what your problem is?! Yourself! Are you so insecure that you had to prove to us all that you could get another girl as well as Mum? Are you so insecure that you need to purposely buy a new car every six months and show it off in a blatantly obvious way in our front yard by parking it half out on the road, for Gods' sake!
Stephan: People only like you because your parents have money, kiddo. Sorry but that's how it works! Where would you be without this house, all of your lovely things? For a starter, none of your friends would be over to play half as much - actually, you probably wouldn't have any friends at all. Let's face it, you're not exactly likeable, are you?
Alice: Well, I...If I am not, it's because I take after my evil, twisted father!
Stephan: Father? I'm not your father...
Mood For the Day 1
By dneves
Mood For the Day
1
(For Terry
and ee)
Perhaps we were
in other times like
foot in shoe and wheel in wheel
and tepid verse (with haggard
rhymes) from you today would
suit me fine, your b'day
has (for me the feel) of
trading places (to take
your load) of ills and
scars with tongues on
steel of some of us
but most seem real
(We be us as to
implode); Not foot
in shoe or wheel in
wheel on this your b'day
(we've made a deal) to meet
up together on virgin road.
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