Jade

There is a luster

to dreaming

as of light

glinting from jade.

Depth is

repressed,

a shallow pool

of solid ice.

An oval rink

lies frozen there,

awaiting

another lap, or

perhaps a spin,

in a world

that you know

but can only reach

from atop thin blades

of memory

and future

and fright

and wonder,

leaving life

jaded

by comparison.

A Poem and Two Stories

Just a few days ago I was published in my Uni's literary magazine Backroads.  In the past, all but a few poems printed in Backroads volumes have existed only in hard-copy, but this issue has been published digitally as well.  You can read it here.

My poem "Parlor Games" is an itty-bitty thing that brushes against several philosophical concepts, including concepts of social class.

"Unification" is a work of Alternate History taking place in the late 18th-century in America.

My story "Up to the Brim" was influenced by Anton Chekhov, though it is set in England (well, it's technically unspecified, but it's supposed to be inferred that the story is set in London) rather than Russia.

While I'd love to hear any thoughts on these pieces of mine, I heartily recommend reading everything in the volume.  It shouldn't be a laborious task, and the visual design is stellar.

Two More Multimedia Projects

First, check out my third digital poem of the semester, "Lightly Worn."

Then, listen to this song.  Read the description to figure out what's going on.

Fast Fashion: A Digital Poem

Head over to one of my other blogs, Cybernetic Steppe, to check out my second digital poem of this semester: "Fast Fashion: A Digital Poem."

My First Digital Poem

You can check out my first digital poem here.

Oops...Have A Poem To Make Up For My Ignorance

I just now realized that I never posted yesterday.  Football conditioning practice threw me off somehow.  To make up for it in a completely unrelated way, I'll post a poem I wrote a while back.

Lovely lady so fair,
You make it hard to bare,
Not stopping to stare,
At your golden locks of hair.

Your manner is so fine,
Demeanor simply divine,
Would it be crossing the line,
To ask of us to dine? 

Mixin' It Up

I'm not much of a poet, but I wrote a fantasy poem recently, sent it off to two places consecutively, and was rejected both times (I pretty much expected as much).  Rather than a multi-paragraph literary criticism today, I'm going to post that poem and a miniscule Tolkein critique.


Tolkein had the ability to narrate every inch of a setting without it seeming egragious.  I am yet to read beyond The Hobbit and the first 100 pages of LOTR, but I'll surely finish his trilogy soon.

[7/29/16 Update: LOTR isn't a trilogy, and I still haven't finished it.]

Reunion of Creatures

The wind in the mountains,

Whistles an arcane song,

Drawing in every magic beast,

Scurrying from the east.

They pool together in a throng,

Mixed from mightiest to least,

Each furry head bent to hear,

The magical melody of the druidic seer.

He sings ballads of the glorious feast,

Eaten by monsters in campaign or career,

Munching of vermin or human bone,

Meal ended by daybreak or they’re turned to stone.

Fortified with zeal to cause fear,

Each bickers of limits to their hunting zone,

Then sets off for home,

Under the pale light of night’s full dome.