Gabriel Goodwin

Philippines

Writing. Inspired. Art.
I've always been inspired by animation. It's strange really, but that's why I write!
The biggest challenge is to convey that in words.

Remember to write what you love! Peace!

/// WTW Writer since 2017 ///

Message from Writer

I'm gonna miss Write The World so much :(((

"Write until the ink spills from your eyes like tears."

Feel free to like and comment on any of my works, and I'll do too! Oh, and if you want any of your pieces to be reviewed, just ask in the comments and I'll try to do so within the week :D

Have a great day as always! Keep writing~

Things about me:
Massive G H I B L I fannnnn
Otaku (somewhat)
Likes photography
Is part of the school band
INFJ
Art enthusiast
Weird. Weird. Weird.
Though, I'm human.
Writer all throughout

Published Work

Child Narrator

A Day with Lion

    I promised Lion I would go to the park today. I didn't have anything to do after school and Mom said to be back before dinner. Dad didn't say anything. Plus, my favorite show starts around 7 o'clock anyway. Lion was really happy to know that and I made a checklist to make sure we wouldn't miss any activities Lion wanted to do.
          1. Ride the see-saw: We rode it together and he was on the opposite end sitting down. It wasn’t what I expected it to be when I kept telling him to sit down and nothing happened. I couldn’t get down. It was scary, but Lion had fun.
          2. Swing by the swing set: I told Lion I would push him and he kept telling me that I should ride it instead. I don’t know why he didn’t want to but I said okay and I ride on it. Not my favorite. I don’t want to...

Automatic Rendering;Uploading Love

Loading 100%,
Image sent. Please open.
relationship.jpeg,
What does it mean?

Tell me what lies beyond the static,
The 2D plane doesn't allow comprehension,
And add meaning to "romantic"
Because I need its definition.

Make me understand what's the difference,
Between my motherboard and your beating heart,
You may gather every top mind in a conference,
Just explain it in numbers from the very start.

Hate me if you can't explain,
Understand, however, it's difficult for a machine,
Man-made, metallic, mostly programmed for mathematics,
And complex enough with logic to comprehend such
Non-sense, or anything irrational, HUMAN.

***

Uploading complete.
Love has been sent to the database.
Love.docx,
Oh...so this is Love? <3

Tell me, are we in love?

Impermanence

Washed Up

The waves carried none,
But the body of a whale,
Washed up; choked plastic

The Sky Screams Color to Storm Clouds

                         And
            little                            marching
                      men
                                                        came
                                                              from
                up above
          to                                            guide
                             ...

Yosi Method

https://app.luminpdf.com/viewer/5ef4dabcdf64d2001381cf7a

I wonder if this works for you guys. Just wanted to show my writing lately :D

It's shape poetry, and quite too big to fit WtW too so I just shared the link instead!

What have I missed in Write The World so far? HELPPPPPPPP

I'm so old, like too old to exist here and soon, I'll leave the site :((( 

But am back!!! At least, for the time being! I'm gonna be packing for the time being (saving old works, reminiscing my times here, maybe participate with the community again or smth like that...)

And I've been missing the WTW community...so, what's up everyone?

Wind Over Waves

The Wind:
Flowing freely into creases, the world's bending earth, hollowed, narrow, longing for a song, the breath of the Earth brings it back into a melody. It sings.
It sweeps through the land, taking life, returning it elsewhere, where it is needed to be.
These winds hold a flavor; rejuvenating, juvenile sense of rush...It is youth.

The Waves:
Pushing and pulling the universe into order,
It seeps,
Weeps,
Into storms,
Rivers,
Throughout dry land.
It is sorrow
and Grief,
That yields into relief
For those that receive its water.
It is renewal.

The Wind and the Waves
Work hand-in-hand
To push and pull,
And sweep and span
The very fabric of life and time
As they had always done,
For they will always be,
Together and one,
Setting the world free.

Local Tongue

Filipino Slang

The Filipino Language is a hotpot of different cultures infused with its own indigenous culture to create one of the world’s most diversed set of dialects. With Tagalog, the dominant Filipino language, there is also Cebuano, Ilocano, Kapampangan, Waray, Pangasinan, Bikol, and Hiligaynon as the major dialects in the Philippines. Apart from the dialects, there is also the growing presence of informal language or slang in the country.

The trend started around the 19th century, called “tadbalik” according to Jay-ar Igno, a University of the Philippines Linguistics professor. It was for revolutionaries to hide their identities by reversing or butchering their names to form new ones. An example of this was Writer Marcelo H. del Pilar, who used the pseudonym ‘Plaridel’ from mixing up the letters in his surname. Ever since then, social media only intensified the propagation and creation of these words. It showed that we, Filipinos, were creative and often ingenious with words. Often times, besides Filipino words,...

One-Liner

The Key to Meaning

Life is often taken for granted, so one should grant themselves the best life there is to have!



 

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Obsessive

    There were many ways this could've gone. We could have held hands under the setting sun, while slowly basking in the waves. We could have prepared a nice picnic or dinner together with my family. But, we can't because you had tried to eat me!
    I had to take you down.
    I'll restart the experiment from square one; work out the cerebral inputs, tweak the face a bit more, etc. This will be my 356th attempt.
    I know I'm close. I can almost achieve it; the perfect being! My boyfriend.

#escapril (07) - Dusk

Dusk is the time of twilight:
As the sun sets past the clouds,
So does our warmth,
Its space, instead, overwhelmed
By cold winds and darkness,
Nothing before felt by the heart.

Dusk is the time of twilight:
The moon listens to our silent wails,
Our pain and sorrow,
The cold and the hollow consumed
By us, dying, yet fighting,
These times march on.

Dusk is the time of twilight:
At the peak of emptiness,
These thoughts give birth to contemplations,
Often of longing, of times gone
Even the distant future,
Beyond the horizon and the mystery.

Dusk is the time of twilight:
Before the light dawns on you,
A period of silence must prevail,
The darkness coexists solely,
On the basis of goodwill,
Preparing us for the next light.

 

Lunar Phrases

Moon marble

I.
The moon, a left out marble roll
From the systematic chunk of debris,
Space-gray, a circle-like toy for a God.

II.
Maybe once, an engineer from Saturn,
Ventured deep and made a marble palace;
He called it the moon.

III.
The moon once had life. Golem-like existence,
Made from marble, veins turned grey: beating,
It waits for the sun to set it free.

#escapril (06) - Clouds and Warmth

...clouds, ever-changing,
forming shapes in my eyes,
ringing softly. Memories unfolding,
singing blue skies,
my mother once nice
held my life in her cradle,
and father would labor
for our sakes...

Clouds turned bright red,
glossed over,
tossed under lights,
I shed a tear...
Moments later,
velvet, scarlet, eventually turned to
metal blue...cobalt.

And so did the warmth of those days gone.

 

#escapril (05) - Man of Armor

There stood a man
Clad in metal,
Fresh from the turmoils of war,
Worn out from the strikes
To his flesh upon steel,
Sat against the trunk
Of an elder narra tree;
Ever so looming a shadow
Overcast on his soul,
Mighty was its lifeline,
Branches reaching out to the sky
For it guards solely its keep.
- The knight succumbs to sleep,
To dream of princesses,
And gold from the Royal Treasury...
Forever asleep under the long winters,
And summers, springs, till its fall.
He sleeps, whilst hands are anchored,
Firmly on soil,
It grows; life.

And it shall keep growing!

The moss seeps the will,
Blankets the sleepful in its advance,
Flowers tilt,
The wood speaks to the knight,
Death, but not long gone,
Reclaimed, wood on soil
Leaves till its foil,
Recoils the earth to take everything,
Slowly, the knight is welcomed,
Openly, into the embrace of Earth,
Her merciful descent...

Sijo

Loveless

Fell for a girl's kind words when I was at my most vulnerable.
I tried to make it work, made it genuine; true love was found.
In the end, I should have loved a little less, more for myself.

#escapril (04) - Shy

I don't know-
If-
I, me, myself, him, her, it, who...?,
Can do-
This-ss-sssss-ss-sss-ss-s

Maybe you should do it?
 

Elevator of Life

    The elevator doors opened momentarily, certain and inviting, for a middle-aged man to step inside its realm. It closes. His eyes opened, puzzled, to what laid before him; buttons labeled with years, which he knew to be his years. Birth to death. Meaning to void. His hands reached for the start, 1955. He did this chronologically, year after year, from his energetic childhood to his best years, to his sailing years, and eventually his passing. In each floor, he'd step out of the elevator to relive his life, always full of vigor and nostalgia. Till his last floor came about, he didn't step out.

    And that was it, he was happy. Heaven sent him an escort afterwards.

#escapril (03) - Love you, My Humanity

Oh, Angel sent from up above,
I'm gonna give you my heart,
Because you light up the path,
And when I was down,
When I was hurt,
You came to lift me up
There's a feeling you give me;
An everglow.

I wrote a song for you:
"And everything you do,
Turn into something beautiful."

And, you'd always tell me:
"Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you."
You're a sky full of stars, after all.

You know I love you so,
You know I took my turn,
Drew you a line,
Bleed myself dry,
You're with me wherever I go

I still see you in my dreams, celestial
You're such a heavenly view.
 

Writings on the Wall

From a distant time,
That wall would have stood its test,
Remain forlorn a monument
Of a love never spoken

Flowers would bloom from cracks,
Grass, and even life crawls
Around the scribbles of hearts,
Names of people long gone

I remain, however, to tell the tale
Of the two names set on stone;
The lover and the loved,
These writings on the wall.

Dragonfruit

A king shrouded in velvet elegance,
Versed in bladeworks and beauty,
The strong-willed, merciful, father-like figure of all denizens of the sand,
He exhibits a fiery heart,
Such as his origin found in the reign of fire and typhoons,
Born from the sprout of harsh green:
Cacti upon cacti,
Temples lost in citadels of the heavens -
A miracle emerges;
Dragonfruit.

The flower, though rough around the edges, soft in flesh, grows steadily:
He earns his cloak and shield eventually,
Ready the beast that shall rule all of his keep,
Kingdom of cacti, the southeast rule,
His white soul cares for all his children,
Embraces each of them tight, sheltering them,
From the sun's grasp

His red soul emerges, when he grieves,
Flows through his blood,
Passion and pain,
Sweet and sorrow,
The king weeps for his children

And that's where his solace shines,
The king disrobes his armor for the sun's soul,
Clad in everlasting luster, with his soul...

#escapril (02) - Bring Flowers to Youth

Flowers bud on rainy days,
Like children in evening Mays,
They swim, the ocean wanes,
Reigns the youth of lovely says

Clouds swirl to a run,
As they, in all they've won,
Dashed to youth - storms spun
To bring flowers the Sunday sun

April smiles to the world,
She alone, the youth unfurled,
Spring to life the storms and flowers
That makes the young play.

 

#escapril (01) - Renewal

    Morning had arrived for John Rennington. A soft stream of the sun's grace caressed his face. Lovely as his sleep was, it was interrupted by the loud buzz of his clock. 7:00 A.M. He carried himself, still feeling fuzzy, to the sink, and there held a mirror directly at his face. His features were defined, being a working man. He had caffeine brown eyes, partly from his consumption of coffee beans. Lips were dried. There were traces of overwork around his eyes, arches of black constructed from his years of office work. His wrinkles were slowly removing his youth.

    John looked at his own eyes. They were aching to be freed from this mundane routine. The man opened the faucet and water poured through. He drew from the water a smile on his reflection. John laughed. "You'll be fine. You got this." It was Saturday, he realized after washing up. Despite the age of his youth...

Flickering Lights

The lamp post outside flickers a little,
A little too little not to be noticed,
Just like the suns that shine a little,
A little more than a million years:
Their indefinitely shining aura against the eyes,
No one could tell they were giving out

It struggles, fighting the defined darkness
Of such remote emotions;
The night is lonely - one of a kind,
Seeking comfort in the vastness of the eyes,
And when the bulb pops, we are consumed.

It teaches, at least, the strength to keep flickering,
Not to break down, but to stay living -
Meaning is given, to the moments it pauses,
Even for a fraction of a second,
It rests, but it radiates forever!

Pancit Canton

I remember once
My mama cooking
In the kitchen
A sweet
Cheap
Delicacy
Of grease
And calamansi
She'd stir
The noodles
And the sauce
Together
In harmony
Striking the air
With its presence
And my nose
Would crave it
The noodles
Covered in sauce
Oily
But otherwise
Delicious
To my child soul
And my mama
She'd serve it
With bread
Called pandesal
Sometimes
My dad would serve it
With chips or crackers
And either way
I'd consume it
Carefree
And with a huge smile
On my child self

Pancit Canton
Doesn't care
If I go fat
Or ugly
As long as surely
I'm happy
Because as a preservative
It's meant to
Safekeep
My joy
And my childhood
But just like
Instant noodles
In a second
I was too old
To eat it
Grown sick
Got a distress
Seen myself caring
About my chest
And the rest
I was horrible
And miserable
My child face gone
With a mustache
Above my...

Refuge

Refuge for the Like-Minded

Refuge is where I'm able to gather my thoughts and lay them out like photos scattered on a table; A peace of mind; A sense of recollection; An internal state of harmony among the universes and my own.

Writing comes to me as good as memories and people's faces, almost like water, fluid, but formless and constantly flowing. It has to be up to the writer to give it shape and meaning. And to achieve that, a writer has to be in his element. He has to feel safe to form his very own shape. He has to have his peace of mind. That is what refuge is to me. A place where I can write my safest, without distraction. A place where I can belong.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

Me Media

Act I

It began as a storm on the world,
A calamity bringing static and data to all those who live. It promised connection, creation, and interaction. The phenomenon was called Me Media.

It ran like a self-gratification plague, making sure the "me" was placed as a priority, not a minority. The platform became a mask of the things we only wanted to show;
The stars in our eyes,
The flowers from our mouths,
The oceans in our souls.

Me is for media. Not you. 

Act II

The "me" turned to memes,
Bent bones from stealing teens, 
Mirrors became computer screens
Oh, me! I want to be free! 

But alas, the newsfeed goes on, 
Down to the pits of hell, 
Where demons are even scared
Of what lies beyond all that content;

A tower of data shards - 
All-knowing, calculating, stimulating, 
Stemmed from the protocol
Media turned King!

Yet, everyone was their own God, 
They carved the landscape of society ...

Shaved Ice

Ice that's cold,
And cut from Everest,
Possibly not, exaggerated
Topped together with flavor
From colored syrup
Could taste so good!
I never knew

Its ice could warm
The heart with coldness
Strange, yet reassuring,
That it could bring smiles,
The children say so!

What Is It About Love?

What Is It About Love? 
Written by Gabriel Goodwin
Performed by White Basement

Slow Intro

Chorus 1:
What is it about love,
The kind that makes you dance
Under the night starry sky, 
Knowing that someday
We'll separate ways

Verse 1:
We first met under the impression
That love was just a song on the radio
And that, I was the weird one
For liking you, and you didn't notice
For you kept dancing on

Chorus 2:
What is it about love,
The kind that hugs you tight,
With the warmth of evening angels
Knowing that someday
We'll separate ways

Verse 2:
I've finally found the courage
To tell you my feelings
Under that same starry night
You've always told me about
And yet, this may be our last dance
I'll hold these feelings dear

Saxophone Solo

Verse 3:
And yet this may be our last dance
Together, together
I'll hold these feelings dear
Forever, forever

Chorus 3 (fast):
What...

Confessions

Past the time of dusk, towards dawn,
Computer screen static speaking,
Morse code rhyming, telling crush
Of their strange feelings of dying;
To which the other says: I love you.
She felt speechless, words constricting,
Mind numbing, the keyboard typing,
"Thank you for everything."

Souls slept on nothing, vaguely clear,
Which heart left standing -
The lover or the loved?
I know nothing, the sun's here already.       

Invisible Cities

Muse - The Cityscape Music

    Imagine your music.

    That was the motto of Muse's citizens. The people here danced their hearts out to the songs in their souls. The days were filled with rhythm, while nights brought in mellow, melting rhymes. Of which seemed neverending. Jazz was the lifeblood of the river, rock was in the winds, while hip-hop flashed like lightning. The heavens often sang for the people.

    The phenomenon was called Muse, where the city also got its well-loved name. It struck the city one day. It was like a storm, leaving behind a whirlwind of sounds. The people loved it so much they made sound into everything. Thus, the city it is today. A mash of abstract spirals, made of piano keys, and violin strings. The roads were shined like brass. Huge hollow holes were built into many structures. This was to allow the winds of Muse to pass through. Often than not, the towers played their...

LIBRARY; UPDATE TO THE OLD LIBRARY WITH NEWER WORKS! :-)))

Now that my works are over a hundred (121 published works to be exact), I am updating the old library with all the new works I have. Just like before, I wanted it to be easier for people to find my works, based on experience. So here goes~

Check down in the footnotes section for some recommendations!

(Alphabetically arranged by section)

!@#$%^&*()_-+={}[]\|:;"'<,>.?/~`(etc.)
* D I S T O R T E D * D R E A M S * 
#Friendship 
~ Gainance ~
[Look Closely] Aurora of Snow Leaves
/ Love / 

A
A Day with Lion 
A Deal with A Faustian
A Fishing Incident along a River and a Requiem
A Map of My Mistakes #contestfor69 
A Splash
A Trader of Tricks and Trickery 
A Trip to Aido Express (Final Draft)
A Trip to Aido Express (Draft 2)
A Trip to Aido Express (Draft 1)
Adding to the English Language
An Attempt...

Love in Words

To My TCB

I remembered one vague afternoon in the summer of ’15. The sun instilled shadows throughout the canteen, and I was there in one corner watching Naruto. Class just finished, and I made it an effort to isolate myself from the rest of my friends going home early. In that way, I was bothered less by people. And you two, my dearest friends, came to my life. In a number of circumstances, we never took part every day since then. I remembered so vividly how you two wanted to start a group to solidify our meetings every afternoon. That friendship would soon then be known as TCB.
            TCB grew to be more than just our group’s name. It became our lives. The afternoons since then became a nostalgic hue of computer games and mellow laughs. Sunsets never seemed like the end of our fun, but rather the start of another one. It was so much fun being with you all....

That Girl from La Pacita

    Everything about her felt like a tropical kiss; sweet and refreshing. Though she may have been the life of the party, I felt lifeless under her spell. She made me fall in love.

    My summer nights will never be the same again.

Tokyo; Her

    The streets lined up perfectly, almost symmetrical. Each section a line of blocky buildings rose in an assortment of modern pop; bright/dull/crazy colors. Sidewalks sprawled with people. Everyone minded their own business. It was dull, but there was beauty in that city. In the traffic lights changing colors. Within convenience stores and windowed glass. Along the leaves of blossoms. The youthful sky. Those people who smile. Inside people's eyes. Fulfilled lives.

    That was Tokyo.
    That was her.
 

Tiny Love Story

Content

    Good morning. The wind beneath the curtains invited good weather. Her hair sprayed all over the coffee table. Her eyes asleep as the sun trickled down her room like warm honey. Not a worry in the world. Just another day in her room playing video games.

    The door creaks slowly. Her mother enters with a warm cup of cocoa. She leaves it for her daughter, and she smiled. She brushed her daughter's hair and tidied it up, making sure it was returned behind her shoulders. The mother opened the curtains. The sun in her eyes. Just another day.

What Is It About Love?

What is it about love,
The kind that makes you dance
Under the night starry sky
Knowing that someday
You'll go your separate ways

She was undoubtedly the one,
But she wasn't sure,
He kept his distance,
For he wasn't sure,
Love's beautiful that way

What is it about love,
The kind that hugs tight,
With the warmth of summer skies
Knowing that someday
You'll go your separate ways

She is definitely the one,
Now, she's finally sure,
He kept his distance,
For he understands,
Love's meant for them after all

What is it about love,
The kind that remains silent,
After the winter has melted,
Knowing that someday
You'll be together till the end

Lose. Loser. Loss. Lost.

Lose.
Runaway woman,
That was my mother
Who spoke illy;
    The life she gave birth to
    Was "trash" 

Loser.
Give a day, bullies -
Reminded me of my faults
Never got better:
    "Why are you like this?"
    "Answer me, trash"

Loss.
The happiness / The love,
Drained from my eyes,
I'm so sorry...
    Let me make it up to you >
    < It's fine. Just leave me, trash.

Lost.
An empty man...
Where do I go from here?
I don't know.
    (Trash can)
    [ D e l e t e ]
 

Novel Writing Competition 2018

Ending Tides Excerpt

        Ships at a distance had every man’s wish on board leaving countless memories for the chance of a brand new start. A frontier for them without any sign of safety, but much more without Mother’s loving embrace; forever searching for a new path to follow, a new tomorrow to wake up to, and a new place to embrace. However, not everyone was willing to leave behind everything on Earth. Not in Jane's case.
  
        Jane Hoven found herself by the shore staring at countless high tides. Waves crashed on the beachfront and jagged rocks. Palm trees bent outwards to the horizon, red and fleeting, as the last sunset came to be. Countless star cruisers were on the sky's edge, bound for space. Humanity left their last words for the woman by the coast. Jane did the same.
  
        Jane wore her best outfit; a lightly-shaded blue shirt and a plain black skirt that...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

Ending Tides Excerpt

        Ships at a distance had every man’s wish on board, leaving countless memories for the chance of a brand new beginning. A frontier without any sign of discovery, but much more without Mother’s loving embrace; forever searching for a new path to follow, a new tomorrow to wake up to, and a new place to embrace.
  
        Jane Hoven found herself staring at countless high tides. Waves crashed on the beachfront and jagged rocks. Palm trees bent outwards to the horizon, red and fleeting, as the last sunset came to be. Countless star cruisers chased away towards the outer realms of reach, outside of humanity, outside the end of it. 
  
        Jane wore her best dress; a lightly-shaded blue shirt and a plain black skirt that covered her long legs, along with a denim jacket her previous lover gifted her. Bare feet gently graced the waves, and as the water swallowed it in its...

A Map of My Mistakes #contestfor69

A map of my mistakes
Exists like stitches on bare skin,
Closing my regrets, my sorrows
With its lines crisscrossing thinly
Deep into the dermis;
The surface of causality.

Every fault marked clearly
As my fingers smoothly caress
The slit depressed on my chest,
I feel these stitches were honest,
More than my lips do justice;
I am aesthetically broken.

These markings go far beyond,
Darting into my fractures, my soul
Flow for I have no structure; my blood
That runs low on water,
Help me find the red cross
Under my heart's winter

The gates of Hell, the river Styx,
Charon's boat, where corpses mix,
The underworld, her nether's end,
Layers unfold, sins that bend,
The frozen ice at the bottom,
Where the devil king slept unspoken

In the center of all my flaws
Lies the nature of regret:
My eyes were sewn shut,
My hands bound by wire,
My legs fused into a cross,
Everything of my own undoing.

However,...

One Particular Love #anhacontest

    It was a particularly Saturday morning when Felicia woke up from bed to find a red string attached to her left pinky finger. This was without any clear context whatsoever. She felt a bit bewildered by the state of things, but in the end, she dismissed it as some sort of weird joke. The work of a power outside her own, perhaps by a god, she thought. Whatever it was, she played along.

    She threw off her blanket and eagerly got up for work. She immediately slipped into the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix up herself. Later, she was eating breakfast with cupped noodles. Felicia tied her brown hair into a ponytail. And after all that, the red string was still there. She saw it trail towards the front door of her apartment unit. She packed up everything and was ready to go. She rolled the red string she got from her unit into a small...

10 Second Essays

Identity

Identity;
For you and me

1. I am me, and only I can call me myself.
2. Look at the mirror and if you see yourself, then it's still you.
3. We are one and the same, but we're never alike.
4. They are who they are, but I am never theirs.
5. You see, I can't see what you see.
6. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I never had that thought?
7. You look like me, except that it's you.
8. Me, myself, and I, and my look-alike, and my reflection look at you differently.

Sounds Assail Me

Sounds Assail Me

From the moment a war embarks on aircraft fighters,
These noises of silence and peace prevail:

The subtle sound of a violin
From a child playing intently to learn her father's steps;

The clicks of clothespins
As a mother hang her children's clothing for tomorrow;

The rings of a bicycle bell
That signals for the morning newspaper from the boy;

The loud barks of neighborhood dogs
Telling warnings that nobody understood at that time;

The mechanical pangs of a garage door
Opening for a red sedan about to leave for work;

The mellow-toned voice of an anchorman
Who told of the morning news, followed by gossip from the woman;

The gushing sound of milk
Which pours into the bowl with cereal, for breakfast before school;

These sounds never bothered anyone,
But it haunts me to know that they'd be gone- exchanged
For sounds that shake the soul,
For sounds that break the bone,
For sounds that I could never imagine

The sound...

Unconventional

Room Full of Stars

These stars that float
on water 

Endless reach of 
Indigo

Of bright Yellow
And white
And red
And orange

Diamond crust
and tinted black obsidian

Everything clashing and banging
Against the colorless
Against all odds
Against the eyes of a child-like innocence

Wonder is within reach
Solace not breached

Running stars
Run
Run
Run

They carry our wishes far
Not forgotten
Yet kept in the corners
Inside

Our room full of stars

Food: A Journey

Pouring honey,
Fluff, fluff, the pancakes roll
Into a butter bed
Jumping toasts join in,
Instead, milk fills a cup
Rather than orange juice...
Perhaps, you would prefer:
Steaming rice, steaming
Mixed with garlic bits
And eggs that melt,
Hush now, warm tocino,
Or sizzling bacon,
That gets you down for breakfast~

Now, feel the sensation
From soft-served vanilla ice cream,
And red bean paste,
Leche flan, with caramel's place,
Oozing custard cream,
Jelly donuts, and butternut ones,
And that's flowing chocolate;
Feel that melt:
Dark, sensual,
Milky-soft,
A sharp vanilla punch
Whiff that brownie scent!
Candy sprinkles that rain,
Gummy bears rolling,
Peppermint winds,
All of that for a rush!

 

The Witch's Spell


A night of lore descents on a grimly-kept house of secrets.

A witch and a dwarf were found fiddling with magic.

Witch: Let's start with this wicked spell!
Go grab me four turtles, Vhel!

Dwarf: He' ye go!

Witch: Now, off to the cauldron bubbles,
For your shells to swell!

Froth! Rise! Rise and bring on hell!
Time to turn the heat up! Vhel!

Dwarf: Oh-yes! It's my time to tell,
For you to know me as clear as well!
I'm the fifth dwarf under Madame,
but I'm more loyal than those tiny scams!

Witch: The tail! Give me the dragon's tail!

Dwarf: Where is it? Demon, Serpent, and Ram?
Oh...here it is! As well as the stone pentagram.

Witch: Wrong! Wrong! That is clearly lamb!
I said give me the dragon's tail,
Underneath all those enchanted ham!

Dwarf: And so it is!
He' ye go!

Witch: Now, off to the cauldron's trouble,
For your tail to pale!
Stink! Spread! Spread and...

Paint Swatch

Red Marathon

    After a long day of static noise and vicariously screaming at the television, it's time to turn off the brain. Time to rest and relax, and rewind every last emotion you've felt from the first scene right till the very end. More importantly, it's time to get some sleep and rest those tired eyes of yours.

Battle at Breakdawn Bridge

    The ocean once was feared for nesting the great evil, but little did humanity knew what laid waiting for them would be much more than that. We were not ready. We didn't even saw it coming. And then, hell broke loose. On the 14th day of May 2032, most of humanity died.

    "Warning! Outbreak on Terminal 2! Behemoth confirmed." The sirens echoed a warning no one wanted to hear. Groups of soldiers clad in black gathered outside heliports. Chopper blades spun clockwise, buzzing, and bound for Terminal 2. I got tasked with delivering Catherine. She's going to take care of all this. The rest of us, Wielders, was sent via plane. Today's a busy day for all of us.

    Behemoth. The first recorded sighting of these things happened on a month before the actual tragedy. Though, no one believed it. It was uploaded by a user named Helvetica2025 on a small online community. It drew a...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

Levinity

    Science was never meant to kiss God's hand, only His feet. A lesson for all those willing to venture into God's domain. However, time and time again, humans dedicate themselves to this challenge, only to fail each time. It was to the extent of unfathomable lengths of which history buried under witchcraft and insanity. After centuries of history, two great pillars of society united for an answer, thus Levinity was born.
    In the early 1800s, science advanced to the point of discovering new frontiers with steam-powered technology. The rise of modern infrastructure replaced towns with factories and train stations. There would be an economic boom that resulted in a further demand to use and depend on steam-powered machinery. Soon, Europe and Asia became dependent on steam power.
    A man named Darwin proposed a theory on how humanity came to be. His work on "The Human Evolution of The Body and The Mind" became...

Orion 99 [Finale]

Don't know what this is about? Read from the start here.
Or, if you're done with that, part 2 would be here.

***

Orion was allowed to lead everyone through the wild terrain. The group consisted of Orion in the front, followed by the Hunters and their Leader, who allowed to let ten more into the group, and lastly, the Elder Smith. They traveled by foot along the edge of the mountainside, where their village was. Once they arrived in the forest, they started maneuvering through the huge monoliths and gemstones. Orion excelled everyone in terms of speed. The robot zoomed through the terrain in an almost breakneck speed, but it wasn't merciless. Orion allowed time for its companions to reach it while surveying through the area.

"He's a fast one isn't he?" One of the hunters commented.

"True, but its almost like he's letting us catch up. Strange." The leader noticed.

"Hey, can someone help?!" A hunter...

Orion 99 [Part 2]

Read the first part here, then read this :D

Later that time, Orion was shifted from various people, almost like it was the village's precious find. The hunters introduced the robot to the village men and women. The local gemsmiths were there, along with other people doing various livelihoods like collecting sap, sorting gems, crafting clothes, building houses, etc. Eventually, the hunters arrived at the old man's workshop. A two-layered stone house with various gem shards illuminating its walls. The house had irregularly-shaped rectangle windows, with each space glowing a different color. The only door it had seemed to be made from gems too.

"It's in your hands now, Elder Smith. Just don't cause much ruckus, like last time." The sword-wielder said.

"We'll see about that, young lad." The old man laughed.

Inside the old man's dwelling, Orion was welcomed in various ways, at least that is what the old man called it. In actuality, the Elder Smith...

Orion 99 [Part 1]

[This is Christine.....You have to......find...humanity...God Bless you, Orion.......]

A wanderer awakened in a midst of static and change. Its steel chest pulsed into existence, and everything animated into life. The robot's arms stretched its framework upright; completely intact. Its chrome black stripes and cobalt tint were its distinguishable colors with a humanoid appearance to describe its form. Orion 99 was the name printed on its right arm. It was learning itself. Movement, mechanics, memory, everything it needed to be familiar with its surroundings.

There was no sign of life anywhere. Most of the robot's surroundings were a wreckage of what seemed to be its spacecraft. The spacecraft's metalworks sparked a fire on the remains of the spacecraft, but Orion didn't mind. Orion walked through the corridors repelling the fire with its steel. Eventually, the robot found a vault that allowed light from its little cracks. Orion followed it by instinct. It scrolled through the door's workings for a bit, then...

Gray Blankets in the Sky

Gray blankets in the sky,
 why do you cry,
 when all I want
 is for the sun to shine?

  Gray blankets in the sky,
   why do you cry,
   whenever I see her hurt?
    All I want is for her to smile.

     Gray blankets in the sky,
      why do you cry,
      when others leave?
       I just want everyone
       to move on and feel relieved.

        Gray blankets in the sky,
         do you actually cry
         to make us feel 
         that we're not alone?
          If so, I want to thank you.

           Gray blankets in the sky,
            will you cry for me too?
             If I leave this place...

Music is my Life, Jean!

This is my response to LackingASocialLife's prompt! Check here for it :D

For twenty-five years, music had been my blood. Heck, it's natural for a musician to keep playing! Every day did he get the chance to shine, and he did, because he, I, am a musician! I've been playing as an alto sax player since my debut back at France. Ever since then, I went around the world playing for various orchestras and concertos already. A child prodigy they called me back in my day. The sole reason I tell you this monologue is that "It's nine in the morning and the Concert Hall's not yet open!!!"

"You can't help it. They open around noon sharp."

"Music is my life, Jean!" That's right! I don't want to waste my time out here waiting for the concert hall to open! My alto sax needs to be played!

"I pity you sometimes, Pierre. "What would you do if the music stopped?" I'd...

Science Fiction Competition 2018

Levinity

    Science was never meant to kiss God's hand, only His feet. A lesson for all those willing to venture beyond to what is called the Horizon; a place where He is promised to inhabit. A place Heinz and his sister believed to be where their mother awaits.

    A night of reckoning settled on a peaceful smith town. Heinz laid his preparations on his space, consisting of metal alloys and powdered chemicals placed in white foil. Heinz had a knack for science, which complemented his drive for discovery. His hands moved swiftly through a grimly-written encyclopedia and a mortar and pestle.
    Diana scribbled down foreign symbols on their basement floor. She wasn't into her brother's ambition, but she was as curiously-driven as Heinz was. She placed her hands in a wrap and whispered words into, eventually letting those slip through her fingers. She does this as a sign of prayer. "Brother, the circle's done."
    "I just finished also."...

Science Fiction Competition Starts This Month!!!

Another monthly competition is coming to Write The World this June, and with that in mind, I'm sure most of us are more than willing to write in the sci-fi genre. It's fiction, and we're free to do almost anything with SCIENCE! I'm as excited as you guys are!!!

But, I write this piece for another reason...

I want to invite all of you fellow writers for a challenge. Yes, that's right, a challenge. You see, I'm sure with the Sci-fi genre in focus this month, we would have unhinged our minds by now and let at least a thousand ideas flood our mindscape. So, I want to encourage that imagination to be directed into all kinds of different pieces this month.

The challenge is that in the upcoming days, while the competition runs through, I would be posting sci-fi pieces, but they're not for the competition, they're just for fun! And alongside that, there would be a concept or ...

Given First Line

Ending Tides

         Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. Leaving countless memories for the chance of a brand new start. A frontier without any sign of discovery, but much more without Mother’s loving embrace; forever searching for a chance to start all over.
 
         Jane Hoven found herself staring at countless high tides. Waves crashing on beachfronts and jagged rocks. Palm trees bent outwards to the horizon, red and fleeting, as the last sunset came to be. Countless star cruisers chasing away towards the outer realms of reach, outside humanity, outside the end of it.
 
         Jane wore her best dress; a lightly-shaded blue shirt and a plain black skirt that covered her long legs, along with a denim jacket her previous lover gifted her. Bare feet gently gracing the waves, and as the water swallowed it in its color, Jane couldn’t resist to step closer to the ocean. But, that was interrupted, as...

Love In A Lost Place

    I was in love with myself.

    No, I mean, "myself", the idea that I was a boy because by then I realized I wasn't meant to be one.

    It was spring in Japan and everyone was out with either their friends or their dates. We chose the latter when we decided to meet at the usual park. It also marked the cherry blossom season from when March arrived. The cherry blossoms were just erupting with life. Gives Japan its whole youthful appearance every once a year. With that said, Blake and I decided to ride a swan boat around the lake within the park. Just for an hour though.

    "Hey, did you hear? From the Stars is getting an anime adapt! Sweet!" Blake was on his phone trying to get a video of our date.

    "Oh, that game?"

    "Aw. You sound really uninterested." He pressed the record button on the...

Deep Down The Well

I was being bullied by a bunch of people, men and women alike, that today, I decided to throw myself down the well. It was the only well outside town, and probably the last of its kind since plumbing replaced them. No one else knew of this but me. It was my sole decision to do this alone and without anyone's consent.

The well was made entirely of bricks, old enough to be covered in moss. It had a support made of wood where the crank was supposed to be along with the rope and its bucket, but it was that old it was gone. The well was in a clearing deep within the woods that no one would find me immediately. I stared down the well. Never knew the bottomless pitch dark bottom would one day scare me. I wasn't ready. But, I've already decided on it.

I hopped on the well, and then as quiet as the ocean, I...

The Limerick

A Fishing Incident along a River and a Requiem

Five fishes fall from Fiona
And fear clear tears to Diana,
But neither did they know
How those fishes got toes;
'Guess they were never violas!

No Pause for Breath

Dissonance at Work

The metal bars twang while city winds whoosh 
As empty blackness twirls its way past the hiss of smoke and pangs of hammers
Dissonance can be found at the heart of the metalwork:
Crash
  
Metal clicks
           Cranking
               Gears are making
         Whirrs
     
Silence stating
                            Thump
               Thumping

The heart beats;
It says run and let everything rush under the hyperdrive swoosh
   But it didn't let it escape, not when the sight overwhelms the might of mind

There laid in a cloak of red and slow-streaming lights
In all of its nakedness and peace
No mystery alludes, yet there is everything to explain,

a man who's dead,

For the Future

Thank you to Now

To the society more or less a stranger to a person once known as a millennial,

100 years from now, I can only say...

Thank you for taking care of our Mother Earth. - Even though Mars might be the capital of Human Society by now. Even though living in space seems ideal now. Even though there might be a floating space city by now.

Thank you for continuing to explore what hasn't been discovered. - Even though the great wide ocean is not stranger than a black hole by now. Even though we find out other lifeforms exist by now. Even though animals start to gain intelligence and join the intergalactic congress by now.

Thank you for preserving the past. - Even though classical music consists of techno vibes and heavy metal elements by now. Even though scientists somehow genetically created dinosaurs to exist in zoos by now. Even though the secret of life on Earth was caused by...

My First Inspirations in Write The World

This would be the second part of the series about me, just me being honest with myself and to everyone here. The first part can be read here,  My First Time in Write The World. And to my fellow followers, again thank you so much for supporting and being with me on this journey! As a thank you celebration as well here's the shoutout piece for every one of you here,  Thank You to Everyone!!! 101 Followers Shoutout~!!! In this next piece, I would like to focus on certain works that have inspired me to improve my writing. They are works, in my opinion, were "weird" enough to steer my writing into its current "weirdness" you all see now. I won't go into details much, instead, I'll just lay it out for you all to check it and see for yourselves.

    1. Strangerworld by M.B is probably by far the most imaginative and yet vivid piece...

My First Time in Write The World

You heard it right! I want to share my first experiences with this site and the wonderful community that I have yet to meet around that time :D This I guess would be the first part of many parts about me in the upcoming pieces! Stay tuned! Oh, and find my shoutout piece here,  Thank You to Everyone!!! 101 Followers Shoutout~ If you know you follow me, then you deserve at least to know that I'm thankful and that there's a shoutout to you :D

    The first time I joined Write The World was around last year when the "Writing for Children Competition" was up on the site. A friend of mine told me to participate in it. And, I, the reluctant and shy person I was, really felt overwhelmed by the idea. I don't know if you felt like me around that time, but I didn't really like the idea of sharing my work, because "it sucks!"...

Thank You to Everyone!!! 101 Followers Shoutout~

Thank you so much for everyone's continuous support!!! Each and every like, comment, and review I get makes me strive harder each day to write just for you! So, with that, in my upcoming pieces, I would be writing about more of myself instead of the usual "weird" writing you get to see here.

A shout-out to all these writers!!!

happilyeverafter (My first follower!),  Gabriel LambatinARS7Mystery GirlUNC AngelStarchildheartswhispers98JasonthewriterSamG953M_Iver (My tenth follower!), Opened_MindJanna BrownAussie23Clare BFidgetsallyPaperbirdSydni Whitfieldste11arBellbell0307Your Alien Author.Juniper SoraDragonMasterFoxclarino910Kaitlyn ❄camlily (Twenty-fifth follower!!!),  SentencedMoonFromAlolaLyraLynneLackingASocialLifeIce QueenBlueWriterJeremiah wangxhero2a11squid_inksMareriderI.C. FynnheartcausebeaLuciferRising,  ...

Her Name Was Milk

    Sansa woke up at the edge of the abyss. She found herself lying down on blue rock. The strangest thing she had seen so far. Millions of stars and stardust coalesced together to fill the vacuum of space, and nebulas were the result of that. Peculiar cosmic objects that graced her eyes, and it was then that the brightest star she's seen was right in front of her. She wasn't dreaming, it was just a few inches from her. Though, her vision was still questionable. 
    The star rose up from her reach and floated closer to her. She wasn't sure to trust this at all. It was swaying like it was a person.
    The star, in a matter of moments, grew in size and Sansa realized then that it was no star. Rather, it was a person. It was a being with star-covered skin. The figure resembled a woman with luscious hair floating around, and the star...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

The Yellow Tape

Are you afraid of the tape
That might circumnavigate,
Round your home,
This yellow stretch flows,
As it roams
The alleyways of this state?

The yellow clown
Is said to turn his frown,
All around and upside-down,
When it spots
What it caught
To be a pauper from its town.

The story: Yellow vigilante
Collects tenth trophy,
For outstanding work
On yet another sortie;
A tale made on an opportunity:
"When allegedly drunkard
Attacks police tape on guard."

And to all the farmers, pearl fishers,
Philosophers, social climbers,
Fathers, mothers, and young writers,
We know the facts,
The tape's stretching its luck,
If it thinks it can keep flying
Over its cracks.

The truth will come undone; intact,
Like Simoun and Isagani, in fact,
The tape just ran out.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

The Yellow Tape

Are you afraid of the tape
That might circumnavigate,
Round your home,
This yellow stretch flows,
As it roams
The alleyways of this state?

The story is,
This yellow clown can turn his frown,
All around and upside-down,
When it spots
What it caught
To be a drunk man from its town.

And it behaves as you expect,
As it finds the facts,
Then the fox,
Finds its wreck,
And starts to suspect;

All part of the act.

Usually, this Jack has its pack,
A group of professional yaks,
In a word, lackeys,
Who can hack, wrap, and sack
Every last detail from a story,
As if the entire narrative collapsed.

Rumors fly,
I heard two more families were condemned,
Overwhelmed, and lost in its realm,
Of over ten men with pens,
Or possibly
Of things that couldn't be dreamt!

And finally when you think,
It's over,
It's done its thing,
You'll be surprised to find its wing,
Just outside where the innocents...

Summer Inspirations

    It's summer in the tropics already. The sun keeps baking Earth in a low fire from dawn to dusk. Sizzles pop when it's around the clock. Similarly, it would do the same on people's skin, if left unattended. And on days like these, one gets to wonder how to walk around the neighborhood without getting roasted. Of course, all in the name of some summer inspirations...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

The Yellow Tape

Are you afraid of the tape
That might circumnavigate,
Round your home,
As it roams
The alleyways of this state?

The story is,
This yellow clown can turn his frown,
All around and upside-down,
When it spots
What it caught
To be a drunk man from its town.

And it acts as one expects,
It finds the facts,
And the fox,
Finds the wreck,
And it suspects.

Then two more families were condemned,
Overwhelmed, and lost to its realm,
Of over ten men with pens,
Or possibly
Of things, that couldn't be dreamt!

And finally when you think
It's done its thing,
You'll be surprised to find its wing,
Outside where the innocents sing,
And others sink,
Swim, and jinx,
Of how they will survive this stink!

 

25 Words

Cliches

"Well, here we are again, where we first met. It's funny how I slipped on a banana peel and you fell for me. Love's weird."

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

The Yellow Tape

Are you afraid of the tape
That might circumnavigate
Round your home,
As it roams
The alleyways of this state?

This yellow clown can turn his frown
All around and upside-down,
When it spots
What it caught
Is a drunk man from its town

And when you think
It's done its thing,
You'll be ringed to find its wing
Out your doorstep,
The innocents sing,
And others sink...

Place Poem

​Metro Manillenium

The world’s largest mall, a running globe,
Manila bay, man-made lands, an old fortress,
A district for settlers, Spanish churches,
 
Casinos, exquisite resorts, and large haunted theaters,
An aquarium for its dolphins, more so for its sharks,
White elephant institutions, and an old large airport
 
A culture clash of restaurants and shops,
Districts of towers, skyscrapers and high-rises,
Empty lots, usually for more metal giants
 
Long train stations, longer highways, and traffic
A village next to a golf course, squeezed between cities,
Green hills, green meadows, and white plains
 
University belts, sports competitions as highlights,
Fierce internal rivalries; volley and basketball,
Track and field, arenas in large-scale
 
Fast food chains, and sari-sari stores,
Cheap food, vendors on streets, traditional cuisine;
A fusion of west and east, orient and continental
 
A great love for Christ, even greater to Mary,
Varying churches, older than most, some marvelous, others humble,
Few temples, scattered mosques, solely one synagogue...

Positivity

How do I brighten up other people's day when I myself feel a bit gloomy?

Monostich

Monostitches

1. A castle makes it way into your heart, and you can't help but feel safe.
2. The stars are beautiful, but I'd rather eat them and be one myself.
3. Summer; lesser rainstorms, strangely, lesser walks outside.
4. People take it upon themselves to grow exponentially, while I end up like gravity.
5. Water can be pillars too, just look at a waterfall.

Intersection

Wild Manila

Metro Manila came up like a lion, with its prideful pack devouring roads and highways;
Manila owned its streets and alleyways, owning up to show on every corner of the city,
C5, Commonwealth, EDSA, Roxas, Katipunan, a few of Manila's favorite hunting spots,
And today didn't seem favorable for anyone at all;

There was no mercy showed for the fellow gazelles that ran freely,
Nor for the lazy hippos that decided to leave a little later,
The gigantic eight-wheeled elephants, too, were swallowed up by the on-going chaos,
​Though the early birds were smart enough to leave immediately, thus avoiding the trouble,

But, there were also other troublemakers besides Manila,
They were the crocodiles, greedy and selfish like the lions,
These reptiles decided to join in on the trouble happening around,
There were also the rhinos, who were another problem,
They tend to act quiet and all, not minding anyone's business,
But once angered, they'll storm through the day with...

Omniscient Lens

I am always by your side,

    There lived a writer on the top of Violet Hills. He's mean, eccentric, and outlandish. Often misunderstood by his community and own peers from the writing world. His house is an example of his outlandish nature: A bench from England painted in colors of the United Kingdom flag, a sculpture of Pietà made of copper wires, with the words "Michelangelo" and his other works were finely painted in white on each wire, a herb garden of rosemary, basil, mint, and lemongrass in his backyard, and many more features. It seemed like his house had its own country called "The United Societies of Afreurasiamerica" And it doesn't end there as the person behind all this is even weirder.

    The writer himself, G.G. Winward, is an antisocial freak, and he will make this clear when he chases you downhill with a loaded shotgun. He wrote the legendary series, "Tales of the Unforgotten Hanabus", which is a cynical, heartwrenching, and easily misunderstood story...

Zoom In

​Go To the Place I Call Home

Go to the place called The Pearl of the Orient Seas and there just squeezed between two large bays lies the busiest metropolitan area of the entire archipelago. Now, go past the hustle and bustle of city life and just at the eastern part of it all, a little bit before Antipolo and closely bordering Marikina, is a city I’ve known for years. The place is called Pasig and in a peaceful section of the area is where my house sprouts from, along with other houses of similar nature. My family home is distinctively painted forest green from top to bottom, with a touch of chocolate, vanilla, and dusty pink in between it all. Wrought iron spirals of spears make walls around the front, hiding behind a small garden and a humble pond inside. And as I wonder these small thoughts, I could never forget its distinct sound, of winds blowing on green mango trees and kids running circles in a...

Expressing Cosmos and Beyond

Four, five million light-years away,
Residing in black holes and supernovas,
Hidden in deep shades of black, red and blue,
Is what humans call "Imagination"

You see, Imagination is humanity's tool
That constructed heavenly citadels and flying mechanical dragons,
Brought life to the dead, and death to the living
As Imagination shaped the world to its image
No, not Earth's shape is an oblate spheroid,
But rather Earth as a center point of that image,
Surrounded by all of its creations

Imagination and the Cosmos are alike,
Not in its concept of being "empty" to say,
Or rather that imagination is empty without action,
And the cosmos is one mass of emptiness,
But, instead, they are similar in how you fill that certain "void" with something
Like the stars and nebulae painting the cosmos its six colors
And the forever infinity generator of all things weird by your imagination

These two are meant to complement one another
In hopes of...

Your World in Three Senses

* D I S T O R T E D * D R E A M S *

Cotton candy skies,
    
and pink lullabies,
        violet surprise,
  when magenta dies,
 foreign purple dyes,
   velvet compromise,
    turquoise under ties,
        emerald complies,
      lapis-lazuli,
    deeper than I: the sound of lo-fi,
 the touch of cloud nine,
       these stars align,
     further than tonight,
 two for Valentine's;

    It's a good day...

A Trader of Tricks and Trickery

    Do not be fooled dear reader, for the trader seeks merriment in those who are ignorant of his writing...

    "It went a little something like this," He told his cast. Holding high between his two hands was the story of his latest achievements. They stretched out their ever-curious eyes into the object of question. But it was nothing more than a piece of paper, rather, it was still considered a novel by the man himself who ought to tell why. All attention was on him then, and he held the piece close to his eyes, and closer to his mouth.

    "Ahem, ahem! Attention! Again! Attention!" and as he prepared his story, the crowd went into a deep silence like no other.

    He starts his show!

    "In a faraway land, one never found, and two tossed around, in a kingdom ever so splendid, oh, believe me, I'm remarkably candid, lived a king named Harold." And...

Zoom Out

Explorer

    I felt nature on me as she expressed her answer. Our bags loomed over our bodies, slowly this burden got heavier and heavier with each step ahead. Most of my senses were numbed to its core, except for sight. I can still clearly see, barely, into the white abyss that awaited our souls. It was cold. It was unbearable, but it was our journey.

    The snow ever roared so louder than dragons, well, up here, there was no difference. As the sun never seemed to rise up above the heavens, it truly felt like hell on earth. A forever blanket of snow stretched on every side, the mountains, the sky, the bottom of the very earth, and our souls. Covered with uncertain destinies do these explorers find a home in the harshness that is their journey.

    Wait and see, for the sun will soon rise on them.

The Unknown

I don't know much about a complete family

I don't know much about a complete family,
Only a broken one,
Maybe because my mother decided to leave,
Or that my father never considered marrying again,
And because of this,
I never knew what having a mother would mean to me,
I only saw how painful it was when I saw other families,
Each of them: the father, the mother, their children,
Complete and together

Do I even have the right to be jealous
Of what they have?
Am I allowed to be even complete?

Though, truth be told,
I'm already broken,
And that can't ever be changed...

Why I Write

Our Eighth Sense: Writing

I write to be Human.
I write so that I can desire to be human.
I write with the five senses,
So I can see, hear, smell, touch, and taste the world around me,
I write to become myself:

I write to see.
I write so that my eyes can search beyond the horizon,
To fathom of the infinities beyond the sky,
To understand of worlds inside our very skin,
So that I can understand the shapes our destinies unfold,
I write to the future of this world.

I write to hear.
I write to express the melodies of music,
To understand the heartbeats of Love,
To make onomatopoeias meaningful,
So that I can understand the languages of otherworldly beings,
I write to listen to my own hymn.

I write to smell.
I write because of the scent of perfume, waste, and everything in between,
To follow the prey of my curiosity,
To rid off stigma where our noses turn southward,
Because a...

The Center of the World is the Heart that Beats Profusely

And the heart that beats for you,
And the heart that beats for us,
And the heart that beats for family,
And the heart that beats for friends,
And the heart that beats for communities,
And the heart that beats for society,
And the heart that beats for humanity,
And the heart that beats for the world

Because that's what we all need lately,
A heart that beats love...

Acrostic Verse

I Am Strong

I am weak,
 
Able to do so little: flawed, imperfect, a human being,
Made of fragments from divinities, far more complete than us
 
Still, I move,
Taking up arms when I have to; steadfast,
Righteous, and the unwillingness to surrender
Only in the face of hardships, do we show,
Now or never, our unwavering god-like strength,
Greatness is just within our reach; stay strong

Walking

An Attempt at Life

"There she goes! She's really doing it!" Our baby daughter was finally able to walk by herself. Her steps wobble, but that's a first. She moves her hips as if she were balancing on a surfboard. The smile that developed on our faces was in recognition of her greatest attempt in life. Knees bending, forming semi-arches, nonetheless, left standing. She attempts to walk into my embrace. One step, another, and another, in succession. She tries to steady her pace, moving faster with each step. Finally, we find her nestled in my arms.
    "She did a good job, didn't she?"
    "Yeah, our baby daughter's gonna grow up strong," I said. Our daughter's name was Clara.
    ...
    "Sansa..."
    Wake up. You're finally home.

Day 17 - My Worst Birthday

A child crawled its way to the light, and he saw then and there what the world looked like.
It was colorful.
I was born midnight, in a public hospital. That same child was cradled in his mother's arms.
In her words, "You look just like your father."
My family knew then they had the responsibility to take care of this child.
They knew their lives would be dedicated to fostering "home" for my sake.
My worst birthday was when I was born, but not because I regret being alive nor do I like living.
It's because that would be where I realize I was alive.
I was alive, and I didn't know that till I was in my early teenage years.
And in my childhood years, everything felt so sugar-coated, like nothing was real.
Well, everything was real, I just didn't want to accept the state of things.
I was rather childish, for many reasons, but it was the only...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

The Squirshl

    In cold night showers of the metropolitan scenery, a curious little boy wanders about. He followed the scent of perfumed cookies. And unmistakably, he meets the Squirshl in its most subtle form. It roams the lonesome streets and quiet alleyways, in search of good puddles and garbage spots. No doubt, it is hunting for some good dinner, despite the coldness of that night. And it happens to be that it spots the child staring in awe. The Squirshl waddles its way through large puddles to meet the child. It extends its short hand in a warm gesture. The child receives them greatly, and the Squirshl signals him forth. "You want me to come?" The Squirshl nods and points to an alleyway, where candies, teddy bears, and all things good seem to sprout in the child's eyes. He ends up following it, slowly disappearing into the rainy night, as he was never seen again.
    What may have happened to the little boy...

Friendship Tweet

#Friendship

Friendship is something that extends even over the course of death. That's why there is "ship" attached to "friendship" It doesn't mean to end, but it means to sail, like a ship, through eternity.

LIBRARY; TO HELP PEOPLE READ MY WORKS EASIER/WANTED TO ORGANIZE MY PIECES TOGETHER :-)


I have reached over 50 works, and I wanted to say that I know that it could be hard for some people to scroll all the way down to read everything, or at least, that's my experience, so I wanted to somehow make it easier for everyone :-)

(Arranged in no particular order)

Free Writing
Loving Like a Telescope
Givanni
Expressing Cosmos and Beyond
Inbound
Feels Familiar
Are We Done Yet?

LASL's 30-Day Writing Prompt! (On-going)
Day 1 - Blue
Day 2 - Concrete Streets and Abstract Thoughts
Day 3 - My 3 Strongest Beliefs
Day 4 - A Portrait of Her Husband
Day 5 - Hermes and Anti
Day 6 - 20 Important Facts About Me
Day 7 - Relationship with Sleep
Day 8 - Spilled Vanilla Ice Cream
Day 9 - "We Are Okay" by Nina Lacour
Day 10 - Down Were The Tears I Held
Day 11 - Her Past Ghosts (First Version)
Day 11 - Her...

Environmental Writing Competition 2018

Mission on Earth

Green Day

The summer strikes warm into the hearts of a million words,
People lined up in coastlines to cleanse its aches away,
In effort to raise awareness and a sense of duty to our planet Earth,
The volunteers packed up trash above all else in vicinity,
Proving their worth unto Earth's cause...

Selcouth Words of Hers

Mother whispered into the ears of a billion population,
She warned them of what was to come from destruction,
If we were to continue our ways tenfold,
Then the deed to her wonderful kingdom goes sold,

Mother whispered into the ears of a million population,
She told of the land that burst into flames; revelation,
Of the sky, and the sea, no more than a fairytale,
What would become of everything that we avail?

Mother whispered into the ears of a thousand population,
What would be done to prevent armageddon's operation?
If we were to just set aside our differences,
If we could...

Chunyun

Home on Summer Sundays

It was the morning of a beautiful Sunday,
And the lady in front welcomed us back to our home in the province. Immediately, the smell of pig, dirt, and grass permeated through everyone's noses. Boots trudged through the fresh soil, saved from the pouring rain last night. We were greeted with the sight of our own home. It was standing tall on cement, roofed, and tiled. A simple house made of basic architecture. Nothing special. But it was the home that was built by my earlier ancestors; their humble beginnings. The visible roots of our ancestral tree remain above ground, because of that very house.

It was the afternoon of a beautiful Sunday,
And summer was especially a cruel mistress. A prayer session was held in the house's living room, for blessing, and renewal of the human soul. Mostly, it was old women who comprised these sessions. Chants were said in an indecipherable old language, and it was left to...

Day 16 - Opti-pessimistic

Optimism is when you feel positive about what the future holds, otherwise, it is considered as pessimism, or when you feel negative about matters...

But what happens if these two things meld and mesh with each other? How would these two things interplay with one another?

It's a complicated feeling, actually...
One that I think only I can truly feel together happening within my mind.
It's when I think of something either positive or negative, mostly situation-based,
Let's say, my upcoming grades in my previous mid-term exams,
And I thought of passing the said exam, then,
All of a sudden, I get this horrible feeling in my gut that I actually failed,
Rather than feeling happy just a moment ago, my emotion shifts through to focus on negative thoughts...

Then, later, I get that positive energy again from positive thoughts, and vice versa...

It's weird how I'm able to see both sides of the same situation through expectations.

It's like...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

The Squirshl

    In the cold night showers of the metropolitan scenery, a curious little boy wanders about. And unmistakably, he meets the Squirshl in its most subtle form. It roams the lonesome streets and quiet alleyways, in search of good puddles and garbage spots. No doubt, it is hunting for some good dinner, despite the coldness of that night. And it happens to be that it spots the child staring in awe. It waddles its way through large puddles to meet the child. It extends its short hand in a warm gesture. The child receives them greatly, and the Squirshl signals him forth. "You want me to come?" The Squirshl nods and points to an alleyway. He ends up following it, slowly disappearing into the rainy night, as he was never seen again.
    What may have happened to the little boy is of urban legend. The Squirshl is a creature of deception. It lures children with its oddly cute appearance and a great understanding...

Day 15 - Midnight Writing be like...

One night, as I write verses into thoughts of endless wandering...

[Typing]

...

The sky started spewing.

[Hmmmm...]

The sky started spewing fire.

[Typing]

...

Earth seem forgiving to those who inhabit her dwelling.

[What if...]

Earth didn't seem forgiving to those who inhabit her dwelling.

[Typing]

...

Monsters stretched out their arms in response to her call.

[Maybe...]

Monsters stretched out their arms in respoonse to her death's call.

[Stopping]

[I need to sleep.]

[I didn't need to sleep.]

Love in 13 Words

Mom's stories

Mom told us to sleep...


...but not till one more story about dad. <3

Environmental Writing Competition 2018

Mission on Earth

Mother whispered into the ears of a billion population,
She warned them of what was to come from destruction,
If we were to continue our ways tenfold,
Then the deed to her wonderful kingdom goes sold,

Mother whispered into the ears of a million population,
She told of the land that burst into flames; revelation,
Of the sky, and the sea, no more than a fairytale,
What would become of everything that we avail?

Mother whispered into the ears of a thousand population,
What would be done to prevent armageddon's operation?
If we were to just set aside our differences,
If we could stand strong without our dissonances,
We can bring forth our harmony, for Mother...

But we choose to remain ignorant:

We choose poisoned water over tranquil seas,
We choose black skies over blue horizons,
We choose naked continents over greener worlds,
We choose to die a poetic death;
Killing Mother, killing us

Mother whispered into the ear of...

Day 11 - Her Past Ghosts

The turbulence pulled at her heart as it beat inside her chest. The elevator ride came to an end, and its doors opened, slowly revealing silhouettes. They were people she knew from her past life.

Day 14 - A Moment In Time

    A moment is less than a minute, more so a second, but these things make up a large portion of our memories. After all, it only takes a moment to suddenly remember something of your past. Like the texture of your pet cat's fur, but nothing about what your cat looked like, nor its name. Just the feeling of the fur brushing against your fingertips. Not that I have a cat, but to give an example of what I mean.

    There was this particular moment I remembered about the sensation of fabric on my fingertips. It wasn't anything special. It was just my hand clasping on white fabric. Nothing else came to mind after that. It was on a sunny day. I was standing on our porch, and my dad was about to leave for work. He mentioned something about preparing for tomorrow's event. He mentioned the same thing to my little brother, my mother and then my...

Day 13 - Anti's World

Anti.
Anti-matter.
The opposite of matter.
The opposite of reality.
That is my world.
That is my emptiness.
It is my purpose, however, to make it real.
To make it the truth,
For I am the Queen of this loneliness.

Is that really all I seek?
To make my world everyone's reality?
Is that truly what I wish to accomplish?
Is that really my purpose?
But, if it's not just that,
Then what else is there to accomplish?
What else can this vessel do?
For I am a mere manifestation of emptiness,
I do not need anything else.
For I am the Queen of this loneliness.

Is that really all I am?
A vessel of everything else not filled,
A vessel of emptiness and void.
But how did I came to be of myself,
If I am nothing and came from nothing?
How did I come to be what it is to be alive?
How did I find my purpose? ...

Your Voice: Olympic Dreams

Sparking One Torch

Whether one plays for the Olympics, or for the Paralympics, it's important to consider that these events unite people for one common thing, and that is sports. So, why do we hesitate to bring these two great events under one torch? Why would people think that bringing these two events together destroy anything? I believe, that if we merge these two events together, we would be one step closer to unity. We would be one step closer to lighting up one torch. One torch to represent the world. 

Day 12 - Boredom

I write when I'm bored. 
Whether it'd be about giant robots fighting in Metro Manila, 
Or the crime-infested streets of Makati, 
And on-going confrontations against authorities, 
But it can be as whimsical as a child's everyday life, 
Growing up in the suburbs of Pasig, 
As it spins a tale between broken families and a vivid imagination, 
It can get as dramatic as a student's life in UP, 
As he struggles with school and a part-time job as a barista in Starbucks, 
With him a roommate who eventually became his best friend, 
And his ever-comforting boyfriend, Tyron, 
This along with his strong aspiration to become a fashion designer,
All of this on the tip of the iceberg

Boredom strikes fire into the souls of writers, 
It brings forth a world of ideas, 
Into an uninspired soul, 
Transforms the mind into a volatile substance of our own Big Bang, 
Ushering new universes into our fingertips 
Characters, Places, Events that start to take shape, 
All...

Day 11 - Her Past Ghosts

The uplifting yet swirling turbulence pulling at her heart as it beats inside her chest. This elevator ride comes to an end, and its doors open slowly, revealing silhouettes. They were people she knew from her past life.

Day 10 - Down Were The Tears I Held

It was a great ordeal,
    A herculean task of sorts,
        Never for one to be done alone,
            Yet I chose to go along this path,
                And ended up under the pull of gravity,
                    As the tears,
                        Couldn't wait for another moment,
                            It wasn't possible to
The universe made its weigh,
    Upon the choice of a lifetime,
        And I chose wrong,
            I should have known better than to follow my heart,
                So I ended up losing it within memories,
                    For it...

Day 9 - "We Are Okay" by Nina Lacour

Mabel visits Marin, in an attempt to discover what was left unsaid between Marin and her past.

Day 8 - Spilled Vanilla Ice Cream

Oozing liquid,
Down the cone,
It goes into cement,
The color like used toothpaste,
While the wafer cone decayed under the bright sun,
Crumbling,
And losing shape,
It was no longer ice cream,
It was a goner,
And I was crying,
And I was young,
But I didn't regret it,
Vanilla was gross
 

Solastalgia

Green Mango Tree

The eldest of our creations, a green mango tree, had to be cut down today. It was due to the possibility of it catching fire from the summer heat. It was because the sun had grown hot enough, and the atmosphere thinned out enough, for a normal summer day to cause wildfires in your own suburban setting. And it was also because of this reason, that most trees around the city were cut down. Shrubs, bushes and tall grass was fine, but ultimately this was a concern for everyone, and it was for some time already. Though the percentage of having wildfires from trees is still a small percentage, the very idea itself of a wildfire breaking out in cities is now a reality. There are many factors that lead to wildfires, one such factor is man-made actions, another would be any flammable substances left near the tree, but to think that the wildfire that first broke out in Manila...

Day 7 - Relationship with Sleep

SleeplessWalker                                  [Following]
@Gabriel_Goodwin
    I need sleep, but it's complicated.
    #Sleepless #InNeedofCoffee #Midnightthoughts
    #12AM #Writing #RelationshipwithSLEEP #WTW

    Reply | Retweet | Favorite | More

In Motion

Trapped In Space

    The void that embraced the body, this young lady drifting far from Earth. Sansa sensed the stars of Aquarius, Pisces, and Virgo. She saw them swaying and saying their greetings to someone who might have been here thousands of years back. After all, they're afterimages of light that emitted a million light years ago. Who's to say that all the stars died already?
    Sansa was left thinking, then she came out blank. The shuttle she was in collapsed due to engine failure. She was the only one left alive. She was the only one left to ponder about her thoughts. And her space to herself. The sun radiating her farewell, as she slowly drifts into the abyss.
    As she slowly turns to nothing.
    Not even the slow embrace of Saturn could save her.
    Not that she wanted to, but she'd appreciate an invitation to her warm home back on Earth.

    "It's too...

Day 6 - 20 Important Facts About Me

1. I am an introvert - I am a cactus, and the outside world is the Sahara Desert. Like any other introvert out there, I prefer to be isolated in my own home to either write a day's worth of stories or just stream online. I'm not like other people who can go out of their homes frequently and gather in social places, like flowers, trees, and other plants do in a rainforest (or any forests of the sort).

2. I love a good story - Words spun endlessly, forever shifting, forming the fabric of the universe itself. A good story is something that just sticks to me like glue. What more if it's a 'great' story or perhaps the 'best' story I've seen? I would have probably annoyed you by now with my endless rambling of how that story was for me. I wouldn't even stop to rest for a bit, maybe. But, in all seriousness, I just...

Album Review Competition 2018

Joe Hisaishi's 25 Years of Ghibli Concert Album

    Joe Hisaishi's 25 Years of Ghibli Concert was a monumental moment in his career as a musician, a conductor, and a fellow partner of animator Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. He has made film scores for almost all of Studio Ghibli's films, examples include Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), Porco Rosso (1992), Spirited Away (2001) and Ponyo (2008). He's a well-known musician in the cinema world and the music world, that is to say, that even outside his musical compositions for Studio Ghibli, his reputation exceeds him within other films such as Hana-Bi (1997) and The Sun Also Rises (2007). So to give a little background, Joe Hisaishi, or originally known as Mamoru Fujisawa was born in Nagano, Japan. He took up the violin at a young age of five and from there, his musical career started. His style of music always was minimalistic and experimental in nature. This may have been partly because of his...

Day 5 - Hermes and Anti

    This story is about a superhero who is, well, not really well known. Much so, only he himself knows he’s one. This is because his power isn’t that known to other heroes. Actually, only he can tell when he uses his powers. He has the power to break the fourth wall, but when he does, time stops in his world. He is one of those heroes who has gone unrecognized. And this is his story.
    “Hey, can we skip the intro?”
     H-how did you get here?
    "What do you mean ‘how did you get here?’ Of course, I can break the fourth wall, obviously.” The man appears at the corner of the white screen. His head popping out at the side, then he goes to reveal himself completely.
    Yeah, I did just say that, but can you get out? This is my moment as the narrator of your little tale.
    “Little? No, no, this is my biggest and boldest...

Album Review Competition 2018

Joe Hisaishi's 25 Years of Ghibli Concert Album

    Joe Hisaishi's 25 Years of Ghibli Concert was a monumental moment in his career as a musician, a conductor and a fellow partner of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. He has made film scores for almost all of Studio Ghibli's films, examples include Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Porco Rosso, Spirited Away and Ponyo. He's pretty much a well-known musician within his field, and even perhaps around the world. His style of music carries out grand and fantastical tones that greatly matches with Hayao Miyazaki's films. It seems to say that the two complement one another, and that Hisaishi understands Miyazaki well.
 
    Personally, I loved every single song that featured in that concert, whether it'd be "A Town With An Ocean View" (from Kiki's Delivery Service),"Legend of The Wind" (from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind), or "My Neighbor Totoro"(from, well, My Neighbor Totoro). It'd be quite hard to choose truly a favorite...

Day 4 - A Portrait of Her Husband

    Zach wasn't too fond of his grandmother, for she seemed to be always cranky. Whether it'd be the slightest of mistakes or just her nitpicking over everything Zach does, she'd be cranky. Always hot-headed and annoyed. And today he had to spend a day with her in her small pink wooden house, which didn't even look like a proper house anymore. It was a run-down version of what used to be a good-looking bungalow. It had seen better days. But, the reason why Zach had to spend one day with his cranky grandma was, that their house had to be renovated. Zach also needed to stay somewhere nearby to his school, and that would be his grandma's house.
    Zach approached the doorbell beside the screen-paned door. He pressed it and there was no response. He did it twice, then thrice, and finally, his grandma came bursting through the hallway to open the door. She was already...

Day 3 - My 3 Strongest Beliefs

1. EVERYONE IS NATURALLY BORN GOOD.
- Whether people have grown to either become criminals or lifesavers, everyone at one point in their lives was naturally good. I'm mostly referring to their younger years, especially since they didn't know much of the world yet and were exploring it. I strongly believe on this stand. It's just the experiences and situations that warp people's mentality and personality that turn them away from being "good".
 
2. PEOPLE DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE
- It's important for a person to forgive others, much more humanity needs this quality. Especially in a time where there are a lot of broken and separated families. It's important to recognize their mistakes and forgive them for it. It's not as easy as it sounds, but once you do this, you'll feel lighter like the burden you were once carrying is gone. No more resentments of any sort, and you'll be able to start moving on. Though, It's...

Day 2 - Concrete Streets and Abstract Thoughts

One time I was walking down a street in our small village,
You see, I was headed to a nearby mall just outside,
And my mind tends to wander around just about everywhere,
Just like the lines that go along asphalt roads and concrete floors,
You don't know where they'll end up, and if you ever did, it'll be somewhere far from here,
So going back to my usual rambling earlier, I was headed to the mall,
And I saw a bunch of people passing by, teenagers like me,
Maybe in their early 20s, so college students, but still looking fresh from high school somewhat,
They were all gladly chatting and striding along the other side of the road,
Bright cheerful expressions are drawn across their faces,
And along their carefree movements was a tiny object, flying about,
A swallowtail butterfly, it, too, was carefree in its flight,
Except that it seemed the butterfly had a purpose for being there, ...

Day 1 - Blue

Blue is the sound of waves crashing against steep cliffs,
It is the space between your fingers and the clouds,
It is the sensation of gushing winds, making its way through the grass,
It blows on her dress fluttering along with her hair,
The flow of her aura on each step dancing merrily
To the sound of waltz warmly greeting the ears of other dancers

Blue was the color of her eyes, and how they shined like gems,
It was the color of her dress, swaying and twirling,
It was the expression drawn across her face,
It breaks the soul of the man who admired her so,
The moment when he finally stole her heart, she cried
To the sound of bombs exploding and planes flying above

Blue were the people who came flooding in for relief,
They were the broken souls who lost almost to everything they had and knew.
They were the tears that flooded mothers' eyes,
They...

Signing Off

Dear Old Self,

    2017 is coming to a close and a lot has happened, huh. And, I mean A LOT! Too many to tell you in one letter, but no matter for in that timeline you are in, you'll experience them all eventually, again (coming from present me). You've changed so much in the span of twelve months, and yet pretty much remained the same you as ever. Different people also came in and out of your life, and each encounter with them was as meaningful as it should be. You'll forever cherish these people, and you'll remember each of the life lessons you've learned from them, either if it was intentional or unintentional. Like that one time you worked your butt off for that project in Culinary class, and sort of procrastinated too, but it only ended up not coming out right by the end of all your hardships and trials. It was that one friend of yours that helped you, when...

Are We Done Yet?

Are we done yet?
Are we done hurting ourselves? Hurting others?
Are we done being so worried? Of what others think? Of what the world thinks?
Are we done being stuck in the past?
Are we done blaming each other for their mistakes? Their flaws?
Are we done with being so down?
Are we done letting other people trample us down?
Are we done showing our weaknesses?
Are we done crying in the corner?
Are you?

Yes?

That's good. Go get someone dear to you, and hurry.

We're leaving off to a better world.

Open Prompt

Feels Familiar

Remember that playground we used to play in?
Remember all those times we would go down the slide?
Or do you recall when we rocked the swings way too high?
How about when we used to enjoy the seesaws?
Do you remember when we ran around the park?
When we were screaming indistinguishable phrases,
And we were loaded up with mysterious energies?
Those times we had our small marathons around?
And those other times we would just play whatever?
I don't know, they didn't seem like real memories,
I was just staring at an old photograph of someone,
Who was small, cute and chubby, unlike someone I knew,
He seemed happy, he seemed sad, he looked like
Someone who had his world in his hands, safely protected,
Until it was eventually lost in the sea of time,
This story, sadly, was something way too familiar

Inbound

          Running. I was running. Running amidst the rain. The sounds of twigs breaking and water splashing can be heard behind me. Dogs barked, and the distant sound of a vehicle was fast approaching my location. I didn’t know where to go, but I just kept running with all I had. I was wounded with bruises running along my legs to my arms, a slice on one of my cheeks and some cuts on my fingers. It was painful.
          The rain drenched me in so much water, it made my movements restricted and slow. It’s pouring too much that I can barely see the forest path. I was running, and then I tripped.
          “Ahhh!” I screamed in agony.
          I landed on a bush which cushioned my fall. Some of the branches scratched my skin, adding more injuries. Despite the reawakening of pain within me, my rest was cut short when the dogs’ bark came nearby.
          I...

Fernweh

Adding to the English Language

Deliforium - [ Deh-lee-fo-ri-uhm (Noun) ]

Definition: The state of preferring to live in a made-up dream world than living in the real one.

Example: Martha, who was always bullied at class and verbally abused at home, preferred to have her daydreaming session during classes on purpose. She always was in deliforium.


Tatenhowler - [ Tay-ten-hau-ler (Noun) ]

Definition: A dog with a broken bark.

Example: Jake was special to me, no matter what anyone else said. We always used to play ball and other fun activities. The only thing he couldn't do though was bark. He was a tatenhowler.


Monoprolifominus - [ Moh-noh-pro-lih-foh-my-noos (Noun) ]

Definition: The condition of everything going/gone wrong, but eventually one came out right.

Example: There was this grand monoprolifominusevent that occurred way back in my life. I was still about twenty six years old and, well, I was about to marry your mother. It was the day of our wedding, and...

Ten Words to You

The Home I'm Familiar With

Green roofs, pink walls,
Cobblestone and rain falls,
Summer child

Setting as Mood

Ethereal Thoughts of Today

Lira for the first time in her life, heard harp strings sang. Their melodious voices swayed the stage to a tropical island, where only Lira's eyes could take her. A quick wind caught her blue beach hat. The footsteps she left on white sand as waves nibbled softly on her toes. Sunny, not a speck of white, a deep ocean of itself gazed its eternal eyes on Lira. Summer heat and warping emotions, played her heartstrings. She felt lightheaded; a soloist greatest sense of reverie. Lira knew she had much to learn before she could approach her own life.

Numerous Narrators

Who Murdered Cynthia Malice?

The name's Henry. Henry of the Fi Household.

The man didn't looked like your usual first-class gentleman. Instead, he had a lack of sophistication, more so a sense of refinement. He wore a lumberjack's polo with black denim pants. On his hand a sharp hatchet, as he came from the forest that morning. Pressed between his arm and torso was a wooden log. He came to shake the hands of the man before him, Billy. They exchanged their greetings and a red envelope was handed over. Henry received it with concerned eyes.

"If it's for Her Excellency's sake, I will comply. Heed this however, I am nothing but innocent." Henry walked away to the outdoor gardens, where the rest were. Billy sighed.

Henry Fi was one of the more upstanding citizens of Sylvia City. The eldest son within the Fi household. His father was the owner of a logging industry, while his mother previously eloped with another party. He had...

Novel Writing Competition 2017

A Trip to Aido Express

            A taxi pulled over at the side of the road. Its door swung open and Hanabi came out to greet the view. The woodland trees loomed over her presence as the sun came down to hide behind it. The grass brushed along her shoes. Her eyes were brimming with excitement. This was Hanabi’s first time outside her home.
            Nathaniel towered over her presence.
            “Are you happy so far, Hanabi?” She nodded.
            “But, where is the place? You lied didn’t you?” Hanabi’s smile quickly dispelled with a frown. Nathaniel smiled saying, “The place is just past these trees, I promise.” Hanabi looked back at the trees with a newfound sense of joy.
            “Really?” She asked to reassure his statement.
            “Yes, really. Now, we must be off before-” Hanabi didn’t even need another word, and she disappeared within the forest. She entered in the midst of a performance, unbeknownst to her...

The Peace of Wild Things

Finding Peace Within

When things run amok inside myself,
The king would stand up,
Remind his people the importance of unity,
Tell the men to extinguish the flames,
Tell the women to hush their children,
Tell his warriors that there will be tomorrow,
When the sun would shine through this land,
And that day starts by finding peace within

When tomorrow remains uncertain,
The stars would reign in the night sky,
Forming constellations bright enough
For astrologers to observe,
And that would be enough to tell what happens,
Of days ahead of this time
Whether one would be capable of finding peace within

When shadows bare their fangs on me,
The hero within never ceases
To hold his blade over his shield
And slay without hesitation
Those inhibitions that dare set foot
Within the landscape of my thoughts
As he would gladly prefer finding peace within


 

Novel Writing Competition 2017

A Trip to Aido Express

            A taxi pulled over at the side of the road. Hanabi came out rushing to run at the grassy patch that lied before her. Huge trees loomed before her eyes, and she burst with joy at the very sight. Nathaniel came towering over her presence.
            “Are you happy so far, Hanabi?” She nodded.
            “But, where is the place? You lied didn’t you?” Hanabi’s smile quickly dispelled with a frown. Nathaniel smiled back saying, “The place is just past these trees, I promise.” Hanabi looked back at the trees with a newfound sense of joy.
            “Really?” She asked to reassure his statement.
            “Yes, really. Now, we must be off before-” Hanabi didn’t even need another word, and she disappeared within the woodland columns. She entered in the midst of a performance, unbeknown to her attention. The wind humming a sweet melody.  The mellow music of nature's denizens playing their orchestral piece. The trees filtering the afternoon light...

Novel Writing Competition 2017

A Trip to Aido Express

A taxi pulled over at the side of the road. Hanabi came out rushing to run at the grassy patch that lied before her. Huge trees soon loomed over her head, and she burst with joy at the very sight. Nathaniel towered over her presence.
            “Are you happy so far, Hanabi?” She nodded.
            “But, where is the place? You lied didn’t you?” Hanabi’s smile quickly dispelled with a frown. Nathaniel smiled back saying, “The place is just past these trees, I promise.” Hanabi looked back at the trees with a newfound sense of joy. “Really?”
            “Yes, really. Now, we must be off before-” Hanabi didn’t even need another word, and she ran straight off into the heart of the forest. The wind fluttering through the ambiance. The trees filtering the afternoon light down the cracks and spaces between trees and leaves. The sound of birds chirping a sweet melody, perhaps greeting Hanabi warmly. Of course, she couldn’t...

Givanni

“Givanni! Givanni! Come check this out!”
 
It was summer that lovely day. Puffy white clouds scattered throughout the vast ocean blue sky with the sun nested along their back. The cicadas banded together and played their never-ending melody in verse. A stream of cool wind brushed through the fields and made my hair flutter. The flowers waved and the grass did too. A white picket fence stretched across this field to two ends we couldn’t see. The fields were that big, bigger than a football field I guessed. A boy in his white t-shirt and sandy brown shorts was calling my attention by waving towards me. He showed a huge smile, as if he found something that amazing. And actually, I think he did find something worth of attention as he was calling me to check it out.
 
“Givanni!” He called out again. This time, I ran towards where he stood. He was staring at something moving in...

On the Last Day of the World

The Final Spark

When the stars perched up in the night start to burst,
I would want to shine brighter than I ever did before.

Loving Like a Telescope

I see the celestial bodies dance
In starry nights like these
The moon, the sun, exchanging glances,
Millions among millions of space dust,
The planets join this slow waltz
As the ever-changing gap between each system
Only to change their positions,
But not of their feelings
 
Just like her,
These feelings of mine don’t change
As she is the sun and I am the moon
Her fiery radiance shines a light upon my desolate soul
The moon, only a sphere of rocks, nothing more
Capable of being something else under the light from her presence
At full, I am at my best
At new, I am at my worst
At half, something in between
Nonetheless, feeling a cosmic connection with her
 
Though, she may be out of reach
I continue to love
As she continues to shine
All of this from the telescope
Where the lenses only show the truth between two worlds
She is there and I...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Travelling Man

He is the Travelling Man, and around the world he goes, from land to land. All part of his plan.

For you see, he used to be a man that people praised.

Praised for his talent, wealth, and love for everything.

That no other person can compare.

But one day, he suddenly ran out of time for others. For when you're busy with you, it bothers.

At first, his fans have noticed, and eventually everyone. So, they all left him as he was no longer considered fun.

That's where he decided to leave the limelight.

Nowadays, he travels far and wide.

With him his trusty guitar, which, when played, soothes the ears of many afar.

His most-prized possession, a golden guitar case. The attention of everyone's gaze.

And lastly, his crystal heart. It is made from goodness that is hard to tear apart.

Along his journey, he saw a young man on a stage.

The young man was playing music, which...

Writing for Children Competition 2017

The Travelling Man

He is the Travelling Man, and around the world he goes, from land to land. All part of his plan.

For you see, he used to be a man that people praised.

Praised for his talent, wealth, and love for everything.

That no other person can compare.

But one day, he suddenly ran out of time for others. For when you're busy with you, it bothers.

At first, his fans has noticed, and eventually everyone. So, they all left him as he was no longer considered fun.

That's where he decided to leave the limelight.

Nowadays, he travels far and wide.

With him, his trusty guitar, which when played soothes the ears of many afar.

His most-prized possession, a golden guitar case. The attention of everyone's gaze.

And lastly, his heart. It is made from goodness that is hard to tear apart.

Along his journey, he saw a young man.

The young man was playing music, which made the people annoyed.
...