Posts tagged “creative writing”
Got more Pilots content ready, but I need to know you're out there. Comment to keep it coming.
Walking San Francisco at night, I spotted Orion overhead. A poem about dreams, concrete, grass in the cracks, old men begging, and a city of eternal children reshaping the world. I'm far from who I thought I'd be. Grateful for that. Here to make the next world.
I spotted a woman at a bus stop who seemed ethereally beautiful against the grey city backdrop. Twenty seconds later, when she shoved past people to catch her bus, the illusion shattered. Just another fleeting city moment, probably too pretentious, but work is chaos so here you go.
I wrote a 13,000-word play called "Code." It's pretentious, plotless, and assumes you've read The Selfish Gene. The characters are just vehicles for ideas. Available in several formats. Tell me what you think.
I've finally finished my short story "Spree" and it's available in PDF, Word, text, and OpenOffice formats. Give it a read and let me know what you think. (Update: apparently the ending still sucks. Bah.)
A poem I wrote, parked here until the poetry section is fixed. About happiness, fear of losing it, mortality, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.
I've written a new play called Spree, aimed at Freshblood theatre after they liked but couldn't cast my last one. It's flexible: six characters, easily gender-swapped, two potentially doubled up. A deliberate improvement on Silly Things. It's a draft, so please send me your notes.
Fog is strange and beautiful: it turns the world into a hushed horror film, wraps everything in golden haze, and makes lakes into perfect mirrors. Walking through it, I feel like I'm collecting the moisture myself, leaving a tunnel of dry air behind me.
A half-formed sci-fi screenplay idea about teens gaining alien-boosted powers to defend Earth. Features a self-insert character named Seldo, a team with complementary abilities, and some genuinely fun dialogue. Massive plot holes acknowledged. Possibly never finished.
A poem about a chaotic, brilliant, maddening woman who crashes cars, weds drifters, makes stunning art, and somehow survives it all. Neurotic, yes, but those rare flashes of genius and insight make enduring her worth it.
A poem about a self-destructive friend who performs danger for spectators while real friends rush him to the ER at 2am. He's not truly crazy, just a careful liar craving attention from people who are fans, not friends.
A poem about beautiful people who move through the world effortlessly, inspiring helpless devotion while remaining oblivious to their effect on others. Also a note to myself: stop forcing writing into preset beats. Let the rhythm emerge from the words instead.
I write because the thoughts arrive already rhymed, already shaped, and I have no choice but to string them out. I wish I had more imagination. But the shadow songs keep echoing until another rhyme is said. I weep for the brilliant insights that fade in waking's light.
A stream-of-consciousness poem urging movement, change, and urgency before time passes you by. Life's too short for repetition and slow burns. Cut the crap, speed up, and act now while you still can.
A playful, bouncing poem about life's chaos and randomness, finding humor in the absurd, the hilly Earth, upended status quos, and the slippery search for meaning. Take it as a joke, find what's in there, make something tasty.
A poem about soul music's raw power to take over completely, leaving no room for thought or resistance. It's primal, untamed, and all-consuming. Music isn't something I simply hear; it's everything, and there was nothing before it.
A poem about unrequited love and longing for someone beautiful but indifferent, whose very existence feels like torture. The world shaped them perfectly, but left no room for me.
A high-energy poem about living for the weekend. Drop the stress, hit the floor, and dance until dawn because Friday night freedom is fleeting and the beat is cheap. No excuses, no wimping out. Get up and move.
Finished the latest draft of my play, Silly Things. Nobody reads this blog anyway, so here it is: grab the manuscript in plain text or MS Word format and please, send me feedback.
