Aside

[Infinity]

The rules don't seem to have anything against personal writing threads, so I'll be stashing my shit here. I write the odd short story, but a lot of my work is poetry - I'm not at all fond of poetry threads, and since I will be writing prose, as well, I don't see this being any real problem. Let me know if I'm at all mistaken.

You got the prize, you got the game
You got my pants around my ankles
You got me stuttering your name
You got me up at three A.M.
I'll never be the same
You got me checking every mirror
You got me so damn vain
You got me blinded to the world
Now only you remain

-

We cower below a man ten feet tall
The magistrate takes a bow
Good god damn, how the mighty fall
We’re all tied up like puppets now

When he raises a string
The rebels all sing his praises
A flick of the wrist
And we all twist and turn below
He’s got us on our toes
When he wrinkles his nose
We fall down when he lets us go


More laterr

[Ziggy]

http://forum.sonicearth.com/showthread.php?t=255

Well if it's poetry, you'll have to post in this topic.

[Infinity]

I'd much prefer to keep my writing together in one thread than to pigeonhole poetry to a single thread, but thanks for your intimate and thoughtful response.


Title: The Riot
Date Completed: November 13, 2007
Notes: A silly little bit I did while trying to iron out some flaws in a character of mine - formerly Dave, now renamed as Derek. It started out as just the confrontation, but I wrote the entire story for an LA assignment, and actually liked it even better this way. The teacher raved about it to me today, and encouraged me to share. Hm.

We were sitting on the ratty old bench outside the school, scratching the chips of paint off the old, worn wood, like we always did after we’d finished our lunches but had no real desire to go back into the school. Derek was talking, but I wasn’t listening and there was no one else brainless enough to stick around to hear him. It made no difference to him: audience or no, he proceeded to complain about and insult just about everything and everyone. I picked out a few familiar names from amongst the drawl, each accompanied by a long string of profanities. Some of his verbal victims included authoritative figures – teachers, parents, or his personal favourite, the principal – and others were students not unlike him or me, just richer, smarter, better off, happier. My stomach turned, so I tuned him out completely and focused on peeling the paint off the bench.

The bell screeched, but Derek showed no intention of moving, so there we sat. A small group of girls passed us, all giggles and smiles, on their way inside. Derek sneered and began to dig around in his pockets, pulling out a cigarette.

One of the girls glanced back at me. “Eww! Allison, I don’t know how you can hang out with him.”

I gave her a meek, almost thankful kind of smile, and felt Derek kick me hard in the shin.

“Got a problem, Barbie?” He snarled back at her, just loud enough so everyone around could hear him.

The girl curled her lip at him and gave me another puzzled look, then whipped around, back into the warm embrace of her own clique.

Derek muttered something under his breath. I decided to pretend I didn’t hear it.

“You should stick up for yourself. Don’t let them talk about us like that. What do they know anyway?”

I shrugged. “She didn’t seem to have any kind of problem with me…” I muttered it under my breath, and I’m almost sure he didn’t hear me, but he could sense defiance in my voice and that was all it took to set him off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instinct kicked in. I submitted: “Nothing. Sorry.”

Derek sighed, exasperated, like a father wondering where he went wrong in raising a miscreant like me. “Look, they treat me like crap to my face, which isn’t desirable or anything, but do you know what they do to you? They wait until you’re not around. They pretend to like you, they make a game out of it, and then, when they’re sure you can’t hear them…”

The pause dragged on. I glanced up from staring at my shoes to find he was punctuating his lecture with a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and the smoke billowed out around us. I held my breath.

“I bet they’re in there right now at their lockers, fixing their hair, slathering on another coat of lip gloss, chatting about this and that, and ‘Oh my god! Allison is such a freak!’ At least with me, I get it directly. It’s not some sick game.”

I felt my insides shrink. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, marking the end of the discussion with another lungful of smoke. “Now stop being such a sap. Come on, we’re skipping fifth and sixth periods.”

Derek dragged me along to his neighbourhood across town, listing names of girls who he reported were “not to be trusted,” as if, somewhere in between skipping school and smoking a pack and a half a day, he had become the expert on the female social ladder. I bobbed my head obediently, mindlessly; I was distracted by confessions (the way I really felt and the things I was dying to say) that had gone unvoiced for…Oh, it was impossible to tell how long at this point! Each suppressed opinion had combined into a single horde, had taken on a mob mentality, and had begun to revolt, crashing around in my brain, pounding against my temples, demanding to be freed.

A sharp, cool wind cut in, interrupting the Riot and biting at my ears. I pulled a black toque out from my jacket pocket and tugged it over my head. It seemed every item of clothing I had anymore was black or some dark shade of grey – just like Derek’s clothes. Just how much had I changed, and how much had I given up, to be just like Derek?

“…Barbie’s just about the worst one, that filthy liar. I know, she seems all innocent with the blonde hair and blue eyes, but it’s all an act. She’s as heartless as any of the other ones.”

My protests joined the ranks of my other oppressed thoughts and feelings and the Riot continued. My head felt as though it could explode at any second.

“Her name’s Carrie…” I tested my voice.

“Whatever. They’re all Barbie dolls to me: all fake, plastic, and exactly the same as the last one.”

Wasn’t I fake and plastic? Wasn’t I exactly like he was? The questions lingered a moment before being swallowed into the ever-growing, ever-aggressive mob. My mind was reeling, I felt nauseous… This wasn’t worth all this suffering. I finally released the mob from its cage.

“You know what, Derek? Maybe you should look at yourself for once. You love to see everyone else as the bad guy, but what about you? You’re an egomaniac. You don’t work for anything in life. You think you’re some sort of god, just because you dress differently and smoke those damned cigarettes all the time…” The words kept flying out of my mouth faster than I could filter them. I was shocked to hear my own voice at such a high volume. Derek’s eyes grew wide, but other than that, his expression was stone. I stopped for a breath, then continued: “…but you aren’t. You’re just like everyone else, but absolutely no one respects you, you have no future, and you reek like smoke. How about working on your own life and not worrying about everyone else for once?”

Derek remained frozen another moment, then blinked and shrunk back a little. “Jesus, Allie…”

“Shut up,” I cut him off. Two stragglers remained from the Riot mere seconds ago: Wasn’t I fake and plastic? Wasn’t I exactly like he was? “I’m not going to be like you anymore.”

Derek was still standing there with that dumb expression on his face. He looked like he was just waking up from a very long, very real dream. The silence grew longer, unbearably so, until I spun around and headed back to the school, leaving Derek behind in silence to enjoy his newfound reality, and leaving me alone for once, to live my life without Derek and without the Riot.

[Ziggy]

Interesting. I'd like to see more.
Keep up the good work.

[Black Knight]

http://forum.sonicearth.com/showthread.php?t=255

Well if it's poetry, you'll have to post in this topic.

Actually, she doesn't.
I created that topic for people who wants to post poetry but just feels that they don't post enough of it to update regulary/fast enough.

Brilliant stuff Infinity, like I remember you're an amazing writer. ^^

[Steel Valor]

I must say Infinity you certainly know how to add vivid details to the pure ownage of Dereck. I like how you add a touch of homeliness in your work. Got anymore?

[Infinity]

Thanks everyone - I kind of suspected the poetry thing wouldn't be a big deal. And the compliments are all very kind, very silly, and very welcome.

Title: Pickup
Date Completed: January 9, 2008
Notes: I'm not big on censorship, but I've been nice so far. Same goes for this one. There are some big-kid themes, but I haven't been graphic at all. If you're some asshole who will be driven to suicide if they read anything REAL, then I highly recommend that you stop reading at all. Thank you.

When I spotted you, you were standing at the end of my driveway with a cigarette betwixt your lips. The cold and the snow had muffled the pumping bass and the frenzied voices from inside the house, and standing on the packed snow of the driveway, I felt as though I were miles away. I suppose that’s what brought you there, too.

“Hey.” You greeted me, flatly, dryly, without risking the slightest glance in my direction.

“Hey.” I attempted to emulate your tone, but found my voice too soft, too weak. I cleared my throat to repeat the greeting, but it was then that I took in your profile, and noted the cigarette, unlit, emerging from the far corner of your mouth.

“Filthy habit, that is.” My voice sounded much more satisfying this time. It was the slightest bit rasped, perhaps, from shouting over the noise of the party, but strong and deep nonetheless, with the coyest of tones to sweeten each syllable.

You must have felt the same, as you scoffed and rewarded me with a gentle smirk. Your light hair glittered beneath beam of the streetlamp, and your skin glowed. The charcoal lining your eyes added some contrast, some grit.

I matched your smirk with one of my own, and made a promise to myself. I was going to pick you up. I was going to take you home.

I invited you to sit on the deck with me, and you kindly obliged. We watched the snowflakes drift down from the darkness and you told me some sentimental story about your childhood or your plans for the future, or something along those lines. I empathized. You asked me if I had a light. I asked what kind of gentleman I would be to let you jeopardize your health and your beauty. I was going to pick you up.

I brushed your hair from your face. When your eyes locked onto mine, I pulled the cigarette from your mouth, held it up to your eyes just long enough to charm you, and then did the same with my pocketknife. You didn’t peel your eyes from mine, even for the slightest of seconds. I sliced the paper of the cigarette lengthwise, and sprinkled the tobacco out like the snow above our heads. You protested, but you didn’t mean it. You were just a flirt. I returned the knife to my pocket, and ran my thumb from your chin across your jaw line, and you melted like putty in my hand. I was going to take you home.

“You think I’m easy, don’t you?” You cocked a playful eyebrow at me.

“No, no – Not at all.” I answered solemnly, then grinned: “I’m just up for a challenge.”

This merited a laugh, and you leaned in closer, close enough that the fog of our breaths billowed out around us, like some distant dream or memory. You called me by my last name, you assured me that you were not ‘the kind of girl you can screw around with, thank you’, and you gave me that sort of wink that just irked me into doubling my efforts. You had cheek, and I liked it.

I brought my fingers to your jaw again, and drew you in. “No screwing around. I swear,” I breathed, and I let my lips find yours. I was going to pick you up.

I brought you home.

You were out of your element now, and your boldness from before had begun to dwindle. I put you at ease; I told you fabricated stories about my life and my dreams. I invited you to watch a movie with me; you asked to keep the lights on. I obliged.

The plot escapes me now; I wasn’t watching the movie. I drew you close during the opening credits, whispered in your ear throughout the opening scene. Within ten minutes I had found my groove, and we were back where we’d left off at the party. “My hands are still cold!” I murmured, and I warmed them against your skin. You put up some resistance, pushing me away and whining ‘Stop it, stop it’. Such cheek. I loved it, and the more you struggled against me, the more I wanted to have you.

“Ssh, you’re still cold. I’ll warm you up. Here we go… How’s this? Ssh, shush now…”

You remained your feisty self until the very end, and again for half of the second go. Then you submitted, you went limp. Like putty in my hands.

But, alas, the game was gone, and I loosened my grip on your wrists. I would finish up and then –

You rolled out from under me, and I, having had the girl pulled out from under me, so to speak, clamored down off the couch. I felt your foot slam into my ribs, once, twice, three times, then your fingers sliding into my jeans pocket.

“Come, babe, play nice. No biting, or I’ll just –“

Sharp pain in my back. My own scream, crying out, begging. Fading to black. And a voice:

“No one picks me up, scum.”

[Infinity]

Like that all-too-real nightmare that made you wet your bed as a kid...

I'm back again.

RUIN

we cower below a man 10 feet tall
the magistrate takes a bow
good god damn, how the mighty fall
we're all tied up like puppets now

he tugs on a string
and the rebels all sing his praises
just a flick of the wrist
and we all turn and twist below
he has us on our toes
when he wrinkles his nose
and we all fall down when he lets us go

we're but a picture of ruin now
the magistrate's in a league of his own
good god bless our antichrist now
like romans we rot beneath his throne

he tugs on a string
and the rebels all sing his praises
just a flick of the wrist
and we all turn and twist below
he has us on our toes
when he wrinkles his nose
and we all fall down when he lets us go

i think it's time that we took a stand
and learned to breath our own air
good god damn, we'll reclaim our land
knock the emperor from his own chair

we'll tug on a string
and it's him who will sing our praises
just a flick of the wrist
the hellfires twist below!
we'll get him on his toes
then we'll tighten the rope
he'll fall down when we let him go!

[Infinity]

Been way, way too long, kids.

Still a lot of kinks to work out, but I figured I'd post it anyway:

So we said our goodbyes
With excuses tied to your shoelace
So you could drag them around
Curse the ground with our every disgrace

You kick up dust as you travel
The dark gravel that runs out of town
Your father died near that cross
Making froth as you’re doing now

You can’t help but wonder
Was there truth under every lie?
Was every shameful confession
A profession of love in my eyes?

If I was hiding my feelings
Then leaving will lose you the game
Your mother’s moved on
Once you’re gone, I’ll do the same

Pull over and dry your eyes
Ask the sky what it is you want most
Turn the key and stomp on the gas
Start to haul ass after his ghost

[Steel Valor]

Wah-oh. Looks like someone's making a comeback.

More please, kthxbai.

[Black Knight]

Nice to see you're back, love the poetry, it's very good, flowing and the rhymes are nice, they don't feel forced. <3