Jump to content

Writers post your stuff! - Writers Nook

Recommended Posts


Be it vignettes, poems, short stories, or just poetic rants! You can also comment on other people's stuff but please, be polite. There is a difference between constructive critism and just plain rudeness.

When I was young my house was not a three story white brick home, it was a castle; guarded by a moat full of emerald green alligators, their teeth daggers that shone in the sun. It was a pirate ship, the Jolly Roger flapping in the wind and sending fear threw any one who saw it. My living room was not a room with a small TV and a worn green couch, it was a jungle, with trees that reached to the sky and wild eyes whose bodies you never saw, or a desert, scorching hot with tan camels carrying their riders to their destinations. Josh and I would explore, carrying gleaming swords and golden shields with lions painted on them, or arrows made from fiery phoenix tails. We would be dressed in animal skins with lion and tiger teeth dangling around our necks and wrists, or we would be dressed in ripped pants and shirts, bandanas tied securely over our heads and jewels gleaming on our skin. My house used to echo with the roars of lions, the clash of mighty swords, and the triumphant calls of us two children after achieving whatever our goal had been be it treasure or rescuing a damsel in distress. Now my house is just a house. Though I try to find those jungles and deserts, they had disappeared long ago, following my childhood. Even Josh, my great companion and fellow explorer, has left. My house is just a house and I no longer a child.


"i often miss the little girl i used to be...whose dreams had no barriers; who believed in a world where anything was possible; with a heart that was full and unbroken" -unknown

shes hard to remember....it seems like so long ago, lifetimes ago really. but at times i do remember when i thought the world was mine. nothing could stop me and i was going to do it all. my biggest problem was choosing which power ranger i was going to inpersonate that day while playing with my friends. when i think of her, blueberries are the strongest memory i have....yes blueberries. i'll tell you why; i went to visit my grandma one summer in north carolina and her property was a vast array of every kind of fruit and berry bushes a 7yrd old could think of. my favorite were the blueberries. i swear my tounge was purple that entire summer. that summer i did so much; i met my great grandma and was amazed by her stength. that summer was her last. i met my great aunts and they did their best to teach me how to be proper and polite. (never really did set in all the way) i walked into the chicken coop and saw my first real snake....and it was huge. then i saw my grandma sell those chickens becuase she was afraid of the snakes. i remember chasing them and i remember loving them so much. i found a turtle; at the end of the summer i took him home with me only to lose him in the back yard. grammies sent me to my first and last bible camp. there i learned that boys were gross (still think that, but for other reasons) i learned how to fish. i caught a newt.....and was forced to let him go, but i loved him. i learned that its not a good idea to slam the car door while someone is sitting in the car.....i smashed my counsuler's foot in the door of his van. but in my defense the boys did declare war on the girls and he was a boy, kinda. i learned that camp is fun but i could do without the bible part. i discoverd that old people know alot of stuff and they pretend to know even more....but i will always hold a place for the elderly in my heart.

i remember that i didnt understand what happened the morning i woke up and grandma z was gone....and i remember i missed my mom and my sisters so much, but i felt so free being there with grammies. i remember her neighbor had a horse and every morning grammies and i would go on a walk and i would bring him a carrot or some sugar cubes...he was a faithful friend. i used to climb through the fence and stand there petting him for the longest of times. grammies' neighbor also had a billy goat; so i remember rushing out of the frence when i saw him across the feild...he scared me so much because a billy goat is how grandma z ended up being bed ridden. that goat is the first real memory of fear i have. so i guess you could say i learned what fear was that summer too.

that carefree summer was my last innocent summer and it holds my most vivid momories form childhood....i miss the simplicity of life way back then. that little girl is still a part of me today; i embrace her mind set as much as possible but i know i can never go back to it. i can always remember though.


Just a little dialogue floating in my head that wouldn't let me not write it down. It's very short, but I like it.

Voice 1: I feel sick.
Voice 2: Oh, how so?
Voice 1: I have a stomach ache, I think that I have heart burn and I'm feeling more and more vulnerable every day.
Voice 2: Ah, it sounds like you're sufferring from a bad case of dependence.
Voice 1: Is there a cure?
Voice 2: Well, it depends, how do you feel about murder?


Wrong side of a broken heart

Its been five days, since I found her letter in the now empty apartment that we once shared, and I still have yet to step out the front door. Most of her things were gone, giving the small space a very cold feel, her warmth would no longer heat it. The note said she loved me, that she hated what she was about to do, but there was someone else, and that she wanted to remain friends. We’d been dating for six years, we lived together for three, we talked about having kids and now she’s gone but wants to be friends. How do you become friends after that?
I didn’t wanna leave, as I stared at the front door I knew the moment I stepped out everything would become painfully real. I knew as soon as I walked past the chipped white frame and shut it behind me, then the memory would change. The happiness that once occupied me would completely vanish and all that would remain would be a ghost of what was. I couldn’t open the door. I wasn’t ready to face the world.
I thought a shower may help, may make things easier but as I entered the bathroom everything felt more hallow. The bathroom used to smell like lilacs, her favorite shampoo, now it smelt like head and shoulders. The brightness was gone. Her robe no longer hung off the brass coat hooks, her towels, the overly fluffy kind, were no longer stacked in nice rows on the shelf. The mirror no-longer had little stick on flowers that she found at the dollar store. Now it was empty the only thing to occupy it was my ill kept face and messed up hair. A shower was out of the question.
I headed to the kitchen, I haven’t eaten all day, or yesterday, its all become mashed together. Opening the fridge I remembered why, it was empty, Or just about nearly. On the bottom shelf sat two tangerines. I bought them the day she disappeared. I knew she liked them she always did, but when I got home, she was gone, I put them in the fridge because I didn’t want them to go bad, still don’t want them to. I closed the refrigerator door and opened the cupboard instead. A box of oatmeal was inside slightly tilted over onto a stack of bowls. Looks like I have lunch.
When it was done cooking I sat down at the kitchen table, the table we never used. It was some sort of heavy wood and looked nice. It was the first piece of furniture we bought for our apartment. She found it at a garage sale for fifteen dollars. It looked beautiful then. Now it had a burn mark from a pot that was way too hot and a gouge from when Anna-Maria decided to try flipping her omelet in the skillet like they do on those cooking shows she always liked to watch. She didn’t have their level of hand eye coordination however and she ended up throwing the skillet into the air, only for it to crash down on the table and take a chunk out of the wood.
My eyes started to water as I remembered how upset she became over it. How that tiny chip lead her to crying for hours. Funny how things go full circle, now I’m the one crying over it. I couldn’t eat. I stood up and threw the bowl of oatmeal into the garbage and made my way back to my bedroom.
I don’t want to be conscious anymore. I wanted my bed, but even that wasn’t the same anymore. What was I going to do with a king size bed. Her pillow was gone but I could still faintly smell her perfume. I don’t think the bedroom knew yet that she was gone forever, I wish I could remain as clueless, But I couldn’t. I was never good at playing ignorant, or being hopeful, I new she was gone. I crawled onto my half of the bed and laid down, my back facing what would have been hers, maybe tomorrow I will face the world but today the front door can remain closed.


Something i wrote a long time ago. Not sure how i feel about it. I figured you guys would let me know! =]

Blank Pages

I would like to draw on this blank page
A character that I would love to meet
This character will come alive
And be whoever I want it to be
If it were that simple I’d have drawn
A myriad of characters on many blank pages
To stash in my humble abode we’d be forever friends
I wouldn’t keep them in cages
I wouldn’t wake up one day to find they had changed
Everything I had imagined
Taken from my tight grasp and re-arranged
I wouldn’t have to live a life of solitude
And watch heard after heard of sheep pass me by…
I could stop shedding tears and stop wondering why


I really like it. It's got a good message that I think that most people could relate to.


How do you say goodbye to 21 years? I know nothing else. I'm 41. She has been around to watch me grow. But her being 16 years older. she's come to a place in her life that I'm not ready to go. Our life together has been a blast, lots of laughter, alot of adventures. None I would trade for anything. But then one day she stopped wanted me. She asked me to give her time so I did. 7 years. 7 years of no affection.
Then one day something inside switched off. I no longer looked at her sexually anymore. This in itself was a crushing blow.
So after 7 years of waiting for her to make love to me, I gave up. When I tried to speak with her, she told me I should go sleep with other women. I pray that no one else out there ever experance such a blow. For days all i did was pray thing would go back. I wanted my best friend back, my companion. I wanted those night we would sit up talking till the sun rose. We would laugh till we cried. Now the tears that fall are tears of sadness, regret. If I only knew what I did wrong.
I finally broke down and had sex with a couple of people. The touch of her soft lips, her touch. And when our naked bodies came in contact, it was amazing. It had been so long. I found myself becoming angry with my exgirl friend for depriving me 7 years.
There's a terrible battle within my heart and mind. I need my ex as a friend/family. But I can't It's time for me to move on. Yet now that she knows I am sleeping with others, she wants me back. Funny how you want what you can't have. For me and my ex. that door is shut and the key has been tossed. I love her forever. She has been such a big part of me, It's going to be hard to seperate, but i need to live and love. I need me back.


Thought I'd join. Though I have a problem with reading (dunno why I do, I just can't seem to read very well), I have been told that my writing style is quite good, though I need some work on my grammar. If anyone would be so kind as to critique this excerpt (Note: Work is Fantasy / Sci-Fi Fiction. Be warned.):


"One-Thirty AM, at the base of Donner. As soon as you arrive, all will be revealed," spoke a rather pudgy man in green, woolen garb. He was standing in what appeared to be the great hall of a magnificent castle, but the walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of solid ice, "My boss expects you to keep your end of the bargain... your highness." Sitting in the frigid throne opposite this messenger was what appeared to be a man. However, this man had the appearance of one who was frostbitten. His nose, ears, hair, and even his lips were nonexistant. Instead, they were glazed over with a thick sheet of ice as if his very body was frozen solid.

The man in the throne, appearing as little more than a frozen corpse, nodded his head in acknowledgement to the one in green and spoke in a chill, raspy voice, "Very well. If your master provides me with the information I seek, I shall grant him citizenship within my realm." Only but a second after speaking these words, another man approached casually from behind the throne. He looked to be no older than nineteen. As he knelt down to eye level with the frozen man at the side of his throne, he was whispered to in an almost deathly quiet voice before responding, "It shall be done, my lord."

The younger gentleman, donning a black silk hat, a white tuxedo, and powder blue cape, approached the man in green and explained his lord's intent, "Tell your master that, due to reasons of national security, The Miser of Snow shall not be present to meet with him. However I, Snowborg 'Frost' Class: Designation 'Ten Below', shall attend in my lord's stead."

The man in green appeared quite apprehensive at first. His duty was to bring the Miser of Snow personally to meet with his master. Unfortunately, there was a slight change of plans. Nodding to the snowborg and respectfully bowing to the Miser of Snow, he swiftly departed the main hall and exited through the main gate, a pair of identical snowborgs opening and closing the gates for him. As he walked off the premises, he was greeted with the sight that was Galacia, the Realm of Winter. There was not a single inch of land that was not covered in snow or ice of some sort.

It was half-past two, and the man in green needed to report in to his boss. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed hold of a black box. He opened the black box to reveal a series of buttons and knobs. To get a hold of his boss, he pressed the number one, the number three, and the number seven, then turning the left-center knob 65 degrees clockwise before pressing a red button in the center. With this, the interior of the top part of the box began to flicker and an image of a mysterious cloaked man appeared on-screen, "Has the deal been made, Meisterburger?"

Meisterburger gulped and nodded, worried about what his boss might do to him when he gives less than satisfactory news, "W-well, uhh... you see, the Miser of Snow was being way too protective of himself, so he's sending one of his snowborg lackeys in to fetch the info for him..." The cloaked man on the other line was silent for a few seconds before responding, "Other than the appearance of a human, snowborgs are nothing more than lumps of snow and metal operated purely by magic and machinery. This changes our plans not. Return to Donner for your next assignment posthaste, Burgermeister."

The green-clothed man nodded and spoke, "I'll return as fast as I can, Master Moroz." As Burgermeister closed the black box and placed it back into his pocket, he started walking towards a large, wooden shack. Off the side of this shack was a stables. Burgermeister approached an odd goat-like creature in one of the pens and, unlocking the pen using a brass key, he undid the lock and mounted his steed. The beast was actually rather swift, even in the bitter cold weather of Galacia.

After a few hours of travel, Burgermeister arrived at a quaint little village. Travel had been a little rough on him, so he locked his steed in one of the pens next to the local tavern using the same lock and key as before, then walked inside to have a drink.

  • Create New...