Author Archive
Each of us is a galaxy contained
The world of the cosmos contained in our brain
The ability to look up and ponder the stars
Could only exist because of what we are
Supercomputers contained in a small space
Are the defining feature of our human race
Our memories and thoughts are the stars of our minds
A reflection of the complexity in our night sky.
A sky full of wonder, our imagination stirs
We become starlight adventuruers.
And so we search, both in and out of our brains
To find out what our galaxy contains.
Shaman Romney 2014
I thought that since I’ve been blogging for a couple of months now, and I am halfway through NaPoWriMo, I thought I’d write about how the experience has effected me.
On writing:
– I’m glad I have finally gotten into the swing of things when it comes to meeting my weekly goal. I definitely struggled with it when I first started.
– I find I write best when I’m not trying to write about something too specific. When I try and write on a subject like psychology or personality, I can’t seem to focus my thoughts and get it started. So, at least for the forseeable future, I’ll keep up my posting habit of daily prompts, weekly challenges, and random thoughts.
– Writing this blog has actually kept me going. I haven’t had the best time in my life right now, and even though I am not writing about that regularly, just the act of writing helps me channel all that negativity into something positive.
On NaPoWriMo:
– I’ve found writing poems to be a very cathartic experience. Although most of the time my poetry comes out completely angst-y, it helps keep those feelings from creeping into other facets of my life and causing havoc. Plus, it keeps be using my creativity.
– I’ve also found writing a poem a day is really hard work. I feel like I’m scrapping the bottom of my creative… thing you scrape the bottom of. I’m still going to finish of the challenge because I find it fun, but don’t be surprised if my last few poems are dirty limericks and haikus about writer’s block.
– This has renewed my love of poetry and I’ve decided that, in addition to my 2 posts a week I am currently doing, I will also be posting at least 1 poem a week. I will also go back through all the poems I wrote for this challenge and give them the revisions that they deserve.
Finally, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who follows me, who likes my posts, and who view my blog. I know it seems like a small thing to do. But that half a second you took to click a button on your screen gave me the motivation I needed to keep writing. Just knowing that someone out there enjoyed my writing for even a second, makes it all worth it. I hope you all continue to read my blog; I’ll try to keep it entertaining.
-Shaman 🙂
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Build your temple on little white lies
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Build it gold, it shimmers and shines.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Build it up so nice and tall.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Build it strong so it wont fall.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Someone questioning the base.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
They see the guilt upon your face.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
They unravel at your feet.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Time to run, admit defeat.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Now the temple turns to dust.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Once was love, now shattered trust.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Truth seems so easy to bend.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
When it breaks you meet your end.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Now you’re left cold and alone.
Lies, Lies, Little white lies
Don’t blame us, the fault is your own.
Shaman Romney 2014
The artist pours his heart
Into the canvas again.
Each line, a memory,
Each color, emotion.
The left corner, his true love
The center, the loss of a friend
Every section, a moment of his life
Laid out bare for all to see.
He steps back, admires his work
This one, truly, is his masterpiece.
He turns to show someone
And no one is there.
The canvas lies in storage
Next to it brethren,
abandoned, alone.
The artist nowhere to be seen.
“There is no point to it.”
says the artist,
“Because what good is art
Without the audience?”
Shaman Romney 2014
A life of quiet loneliness.
People, just background noise.
A stranger in a room of friends.
A silent, pittiful scream
Of a man no one hears.
Wear the mask, play the game,
make sure they always see.
The smiling man, the jester,
the thing you ought to be.
Don’t show your pain,
or your hurt, or your agony.
Your loved ones want a happy man,
that’s what you ought to be.
Don’t ever drop the visage,
don’t show the deeper being.
Pretend to be a happy man,
the thing you’ll never be.
The mask will never come off
The world will never see.
This image of the happy man
Will never be me.
Shaman Romney 2014
I’m a man who is empty.
I have had everything
Pulled out of me.
Some of it,
My Heart,
I gave willingly.
Most of it,
My Blood,
My Tears,
My Soul,
Were taken forcefully.
Now I stand here
Devoid of love,
of life,
of hope.
Now I have nothing.
I am a man who is empty.
Shaman Romney 2014
I’ve never felt I was a fiction writer. At times, I feel so wrapped up in myself that I can take the time to imagine anything different. In fact, I only feel like when I am writing as my self about myself, that I feel it is any good. The closest I’ve gotten to fiction writing is creating characters for role-playing games, which have been average, plot-wise, at best.
So when this week’s writing challenge came up, at first I felt like I shouldn’t even try to do it. I mean, I’m just not that good at it, right? But on further reflection, I decided I wanted to do it. The point of a challenge is to challenge yourself, so I did.
I had a fun doing too. In the end, isn’t that the point?
Anyways, here it is. I hope you enjoy:
The man leapt. Freeing himself from the shackles that bound him, he cast himself off the edge. Away from hate, regret, failure; as the wind rushed by it stripped all this from him. He was left a man without any burden, except existence. Now, he was finally free to fly.
Thank you for reading.
Yeah, I’ve been down before
Body sprawled out on the floor
Crying, screaming, and begging for more.
Yeah I’ve been down before.
Yeah, I have lost it all
Bloodied my fists upon the wall
Climbed to the top only to fall
Yeah I have lost it all.
Yeah, I have been alone
No one in the world to call my own.
Wandered the streets without a home.
Yeah I have been alone.
Yeah, I have given up.
Found my best not good enough.
Found that I was out of luck.
Yeah I have given up.
Yeah, I have been to Hell
Done things I will never tell.
Know that burning, sulfur smell.
Yeah I have been to Hell.
Yeah, I’d do it all again.
Although it didn’t work in the end.
I’d do it all for you, my friend.
Yeah, I’d do it all again.
Shaman Romney 2014
I’m tired of trying
to win life’s game.
The out come always
feels the same.
I get knocked down Twenty
I get up Twenty One
Will the next time I’m knocked down
be when I’m done?
I’ll just keep on fighting
There is no other way
Here’s to hoping
I get it right someday.
Shaman Romney 2014
Shame on The Universe 