Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

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At 11/10/05 02:01 PM, DanAbnormal wrote: Well, at least i will.

I'll spam her up like fuck if she doesnt let you switch.

You should talk to your Dean... there is always someone above the bitch (no effence feminists). ; )

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If you have questions about flash... there is a flash foru mthat would be best suited as well. So you know in the future. : )

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I am sure you can drop her course and just have to spend half a semester catching up with the extra credits you dropped?

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At 11/10/05 01:34 PM, chaos_mage wrote: ok cool, i could just link you to the ongoing topic, but this is a better idea. i might space it out as 2 a day though if thats ok.

Sure man. *Goes and reads*

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At 11/10/05 12:16 PM, chaos_mage wrote: would i get an e-slap if i posted the first 6 chapters of my BBS story?

No, go for it. I'd like to read it. Just spread it out... like one a day or something.

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At 11/9/05 05:17 PM, Andersson wrote: ...eh. Which diversity?

I am not sure. Read back to what sentence Iwas commenting on and tell me what you meant, because I didnt understand.

This is mine, but I do not have anything there yet.

Awesome. I will go and watch you now so that when you submit... I'll know. ; )

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At 11/8/05 11:13 PM, XwaynecoltX wrote: Sometimes they dont always amake any sense, in somecases they are better, nice work once again....

Thanks.

At 11/9/05 02:51 AM, Andersson wrote: Heh, I see. I actually got another account (Andersson_NG@hotmail.com) which I made quite recently but I haven't added so many people on it and doesn't use it regulary.

Ahh, ya. My Myst email was mostly for web related stuff... and the other is my personal one. I am not sure why I did that in the start, but it keeps me organized now anyway.

Nice, it looks quite neat with all the features you seem able to use yourself of..

Are you referring to the diversity?

and I will make my account soon by the way. =P

Awesome. Give me the link when you do.

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At 11/9/05 01:57 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: O RLY?

Yup

Y halo thar butseks.

huh? I got the Butt Sex... I think...

At 11/9/05 02:08 PM, Coop83 wrote: Well, you were in posession of the most up to date versions, but Chapter II is enough to get me up to speed and hopefully back writing.

Great! I am glad icould help.

I will check again later tonight when I finish my essay (it is only 1100 words, but it is one of those very detailed, concise essays... im only on word 739). I might have backed up your first chapter as I have old burnt CDs all over the place. You never know.

I owe you bigtime for this (posibly a dedication if it ever goes to print :))

Haha! Yes! And of course it will. I love your story. Which is a feat, because I am not one for the medieval-like fantasy. As much as I love Tolkien's writing style.. I could never get into his plots and storylines.

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At 11/9/05 01:44 PM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote: Cheers Myst. What you have said is taken to heart and I shall try another poem tonight with a different rhyme scheme :-)

Cool man. Glad I could help. You have always been quite witty with your words, so it will be interesting to see what you come up with as a more 'serious' poet. : )

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At 11/9/05 10:57 AM, Coop83 wrote: I need to ask yet another favour. Could you email me the first 2 chapters of my story.

I emailed you and did the best I could, but I wont give up yet. I may still have the first.

At 11/9/05 12:36 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: Orlyme2!!1

What?

You get the picture.

LOL! no, I don't. I don't get this e-tal kstuff. It is way over my head.

At 11/9/05 12:42 PM, gumOnShoe wrote: First off does anyone know if Mic knows that hes up on the collab?

No, not sure, but I will check on MSN.

Secondly, I found it funny that someone tried to start another writer's guild called "the other writer's guild"

Haha ya.. it was funny. I liked yours and Quikfox's replies. And now he has joined here. : D

Sorry Myst, but as much as I like writing poetry or reading it I have a hard time actually analyzing it.

Ya, fair enough. It seems to be the trend here.

At 11/9/05 12:52 PM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote: -Currenty untitled-

The awkward sound of silence, echoes all around
Everyone just sits there, silence, no sound.
Lots of avoiding glances, no talking face to face
It as though everyone we’re from a different race.

I am going to tell the first, and most imporant thing I have learnt about poetry. the one thing I wish someone told me and I didnt have to learn on my own. It is nearly impossible to write effect end-line rhyme. Aside from that... the 'no' of the subcluses could be better worded, and the last line just doesnt make sense. It is missing a word, and uses a word wrong. Probably just a look over.

Then in walks to culprit, head held high with glee

The word 'to'.

He stares at her, then him, and then he stares at me.
His eyes, they show no sorrow, they show no remorse
It’s no wonder why he did it, he’s a show off of course.

Again, the last line is the weak one. A very good stanza overall, except the last line falls off and weakens it entirely.

And then the silence shatters, with cries of hate and anger
It is at this point I exit, washing my hands upon the matter.

Clever. I like your wording.

But as I walk I hear the shouting, I hear them swear and curse
I wonder to myself, just who will end up losing, end up for the worse?

Nice. I like the concept. If you truly want to improve as poet, try not to take these next few words harshly... it is what I wish someone had told me when I was even worse then I am now. lol.

Experiment with rhyme. And not end-rhyme. Only use end-rhyme when it is effective and you have a strict meter (syllable count)... otherwise, it just sounds chilidish and cheesy. It is very difficult to use this type of rhyming appropriately. Experiment with mid-line rhyme, and other sorts. I will give you a good link at the end of this post that will help any poet improve.

Watch your grammar. As much as poetry is a little more 'open' to interpretive, and maybe even abstract grammar... it is still writing, and needs to be looked at carefully. For two reason: one... it has to be structurally sound... and two... it has to flow accordingly to the tone, mood, and rhythm.

Watch for cliches. Cliches make bad poems unless used originally (somehow tweaked or twisted), or are used in such a way that it powerfully portrays exactly what the cliche is trying to convey. If the cliche became a cliche because all the girls cried when they first heard it in that famous movie... then dont use it again unless you fully expect the majority to shed a tear again.

Oh, and not all these points relate to your poem. They just came to mind, and you said you wanted to improve, so I thought i'd try to help. : )

I found this recently that I could have used a year ago. http://www.deviantart.com/view/24179464/

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At 11/9/05 07:38 AM, Andersson wrote: Want me to [Copy] > [Paste] my comment made in the "Late Night Lounge"? =P

haha, no.

But seriously though, I can't wait till we've started writing together. d^_^b

Ya, me too.

I am about to start my essay for today right now. I am freaking out. It is due tomorrow. lol.

At 11/9/05 08:03 AM, Coop83 wrote: You know I don't comment on things like poetry, as I can't do poems justice.

Ya, I knew you wouldn't... but maybe someone else.

I can comment on more mundane issuses like congratulations of 4000 posts though.

Merci Beaucoup! : )

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Comments on my poems?

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At 11/8/05 07:18 PM, Andersson wrote: Ah, that's why. I added your hotmail adress that is in your profile but you have not accepted me. My MSN adress is Andersson_edk@hotmail.com, so just add me. =)

Will do.

Ya, I barely ever go on that one. Once a month basically. lol

Ah, no I don't. I could create one though, but it will have to wait till tomorrow, it's 0120 hours here... =P

Ahh, true enough. All my stuff is at http://mystwilliams.deviantart.com

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sirevil was my fav... I loved the pictures... and the hair... sexy.

Great work to all and congrats!

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At 11/8/05 07:10 PM, Sonichu wrote: Whoo! I will join!

Welcome man. Post some of your writing for us to read.

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At 11/8/05 06:53 PM, Andersson wrote: I must say that even though I do not like drugs and it's associations in any kind, I like this poem alot .

Thanks!

It is very well descripted, yet not. But most of all, it redeem all thoughts and the, for me, black truth of youth. Somehow.

Hmm.. I never really looked at it fro mthat perspective, but I see your point. Clever.

By the way, would you like to write together with me? Make stories or poems, whatever you might choose, because I think you are a very good writer and discuss topics in your poems that I think is intresting, and to write something creative together with you as a cooperation would be very intresting and alot of fun.

Hey man, I would love to write with you. Email me, and if you have MSN... give me your addy so that I can add you to my MSN (which is different then my email address on NG).

BTW... do you have a dA account with al lyour own pieces? for easy access to read.

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I do not expect everyone to understand everything in this poem, as it is a bit abstract and meant to play on the mind with its images and words, but I do hope everyone comes off with their own opinion by the final line and has a personal understanding of the piece. So please don't let the ambiguity and abstract wording annoy you. I hope you feel the emotions and the momentum the poem builds.

It is loosely inspired by Radiohead.

In My Asylum

The quiet words hardly hum
and whisper the truths of nothing.
A pillow breathes, a dust-smoke
rising with the room. Break
the windows, shatter the glass,
we are here to softly call
the emotions of the thorns,
and the cauliflower of the high.

A lifting of the seat, and the driver
blown away. A zephyr-whistle
circles the collar of the earth
and cancer. Awaken day,
as strips of apple fall and rot.
Kick in the door you fucking failure;
it won’t change the way you are.
Salvage the day, and skin the fruit.

The crawling of the river’s floor
is traveling fingers through
a thick head of hair. We turn
off our headlights – the cushion
swelling. The subtle murmur,
now a pleasant tone. The singing
voice, among the care of drums.
Let fire breath and cover your concealed.

In doubles the chill appears,
and travels to higher ground.
The being escapes the confinement
of the waters, and gives light
to the egg shells out back my mind.
Prudent entrance is the knocking
on a white, wooden barrier.
Zeal is the banging on the glass.

Watch the waters run with colour
of the doll within itself. Don’t close
any words, and keep taking in the dust,
or adjust to be about the mark
that never moves, nor breathes.
And be the shadow within the dark –
A level hat that creeps sheet’s end,
but will never grab a limb.

A rise in sea, and call for more
as tangent ridges rub and shape
the roughness of hair upon skin.
It is such a change. The camera lies,
as gutless cries howl the words
of dieing loved ones. Hear the stampede;
clenching fists, and twisted arms
will become what is determent.

And then the people scream,
and as they run they scramble
their vision in sight of emergency.
In the shadows, that dark corner
of the hospital bed, we hear a laugh.
And now, we are alive, and everything
is forming a quick and painful end.
You squeeze my neck.

I yell for more, but scream the name
of the nurse down the hall. We are
warned for ever, but I hope
you choke yourself instead.
Just try me; fucking take my door,
and your pride with the hinges.
You can break into my heart,
but you can’t stop my exit.

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I do not expect everyone to understand everything in this poem, as it is a bit abstract and meant to play on the mind with its images and words, but I do hope everyone comes off with their own opinion by the final line and has a personal understanding of the piece. So please don't let the ambiguity and abstract wording annoy you. I hope you feel the emotions and the momentum the poem builds.

It is loosely inspired by Radiohead.

In My Asylum

The quiet words hardly hum
and whisper the truths of nothing.
A pillow breathes, a dust-smoke
rising with the room. Break
the windows, shatter the glass,
we are here to softly call
the emotions of the thorns,
and the cauliflower of the high.

A lifting of the seat, and the driver
blown away. A zephyr-whistle
circles the collar of the earth
and cancer. Awaken day,
as strips of apple fall and rot.
Kick in the door you fucking failure;
it won’t change the way you are.
Salvage the day, and skin the fruit.

The crawling of the river’s floor
is traveling fingers through
a thick head of hair. We turn
off our headlights – the cushion
swelling. The subtle murmur,
now a pleasant tone. The singing
voice, among the care of drums.
Let fire breath and cover your concealed.

In doubles the chill appears,
and travels to higher ground.
The being escapes the confinement
of the waters, and gives light
to the egg shells out back my mind.
Prudent entrance is the knocking
on a white, wooden barrier.
Zeal is the banging on the glass.

Watch the waters run with colour
of the doll within itself. Don’t close
any words, and keep taking in the dust,
or adjust to be about the mark
that never moves, nor breathes.
And be the shadow within the dark –
A level hat that creeps sheet’s end,
but will never grab a limb.

A rise in sea, and call for more
as tangent ridges rub and shape
the roughness of hair upon skin.
It is such a change. The camera lies,
as gutless cries howl the words
of dieing loved ones. Hear the stampede;
clenching fists, and twisted arms
will become what is determent.

And then the people scream,
and as they run they scramble
their vision in sight of emergency.
In the shadows, that dark corner
of the hospital bed, we hear a laugh.
And now, we are alive, and everything
is forming a quick and painful end.
You squeeze my neck.

I yell for more, but scream the name
of the nurse down the hall. We are
warned for ever, but I hope
you choke yourself instead.
Just try me; fucking take my door,
and your pride with the hinges.
You can break into my heart,
but you can’t stop my exit.

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Damn you FBI... <3

...great piece though!

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Here is another poem, but it is designed a certain way visually (that I cant really do here on NG), and I would rather people read it here at my dA account. So that it is read the way it is meant to be.

Grave Marker

Liquid eyes are about the cold
while the sun drips downward
and stains your worsted-wool
a grey and burning red…

Steel bar arms stack tight
as the door melts sealed
and wards off the gloom
of bronze and solid lead…

Frozen asphalt of private remorse
contains your every facial decay
and echoes the lines in a ballad
of birds and a single bed…

Footprint slabs augment below
“to mark my home in your life”
and deliver the black suit man
a news clip of the dead…

At the bottom we can hide from them forever.

---

Here is another poem, but it is designed a certain way visually (that I cant really do here on NG), and I would rather people read it here at my dA account. So that it is read the way it is meant to be.

Grave Marker

Liquid eyes are about the cold
while the sun drips downward
and stains your worsted-wool
a grey and burning red…

Steel bar arms stack tight
as the door melts sealed
and wards off the gloom
of bronze and solid lead…

Frozen asphalt of private remorse
contains your every facial decay
and echoes the lines in a ballad
of birds and a single bed…

Footprint slabs augment below
“to mark my home in your life”
and deliver the black suit man
a news clip of the dead…

At the bottom we can hide from them forever.

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At 11/6/05 07:50 PM, Wylo wrote: 5 (-4) Myst_Williams 123 / 37 / 0 / 123 / 37 / 0 / 0

I doubt I'll do much reviewing...

but seeing my name their makes me want to go do a few right now. : )

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At 11/6/05 07:21 PM, Newgrundling wrote:

At 11/6/05 07:19 PM, Memnarch wrote: Become a Billionaire and burn all your money. There would be an Economic unbalance.

Not to mention the staggering effects of withdrawing $1,000,000,000 from your bank(s) all at once. Bank runs anyone?

It would be pretty awesome for global warming too.

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At 11/6/05 06:05 PM, kolohe wrote: I never got straight A's on a report card

drinks

I never caused a car accident

Chills

I never picked a fight with someone for no reason

drinks

I never got arrested by the police

looks at hottie on the other couch

I never cheated on someone I was dating

looks again

I never told my parents to fuck off

drinks

I never made someone cry for fun

drinks

I never tried skydiving

gets another beer

I never had a friend that died suddenly

drinks

I never smoked crack

chills

I never had a one night stand

drinks

I never tried to run from the cops

drinks

I never blacked out from drinking too much

drinks... heh... drinks again

I never left the country that I live in

drinks

I never joined a fraternity / sorority

looks around... "Im in Canada"

I never streaked (when you run around naked in public)

drinks

I never gave a homeless person more than five dollars

chills

I never broke any bones

chills.

I never played a musical instrument

drinks

I never spray painted something in public

gets up and sits beside hottie

I never got suspended from school

drinks

I never TP'd someone's house

chills

I never shoplifted

chills

I never got a tattoo

nopers

I never read a book for fun

drinks

I never puked in a pub

drinks

I never panhandled

...

I never bought something that I knew was stolen

drinks

I never been to New York City

chills

I never punched someone in the face

drinks

I never drove my car fast enough to catch air on a hill

drinks

I never pulled the old "dine and ditch"

drinks

I never played counter strike

what?

I never called in sick because I wanted to catch something on TV

drinks

I never urinated in a public place (not a bathroom)

drinks

I never spent more than a couple of weeks in jail

chills

I never saw Pink Floyd in concert

damn... chills

I never put a bucket of water over a door and douched the next person who opened it

nope.

I never beat Super Mario Brothers without warping

... video games?

I never drunk dialed an old girlfriend

drinjks... drinks...

I never made a new friend that I ended up hating by the end of the day

drinks

I never pretended to like a certain band just to fit in with someone

whos does that?

I never took part in a drag race

drinks.

I never been in an airplane before

drinks.

I never tried surfing

chills.

I never egged someone's house

drinks

I never made any prank phone calls

drinks

I never bought something that I knew I couldn't afford

"Is that your leg?"

I never lied because I thought it would help get me laid

drinks

I never tried marijuana

drinks

I never had to give a public speech

drinks

I never been to a funeral

drinks

I never "cock blocked" a friend

haha... drinks

I never been "cock blocked"

nope.

I never pushed the emergency stop button on an escalator for fun

nope.

I never been mugged (forcefully robbed)

nope

I never pretended to not speak a certain language because I didn’t want to talk to somebody

drinks

I never keyed someone’s car (scratch the paint with a key)

chills.

I never hurt someone so bad that they needed to be hospitalized

der...inks

I never volunteered to work for a charitable organization

where?

I never voted

pol----

I never went to college (or University for you brits)

drinks... can be University for us canadians too eh

I never drove on a flat tire because I didn’t know how to fix it

chills.

I never threw a rock through someone's window

nope.

I never saw the movie GoodFellas

drinks

I never played a game of blackjack for real money

drinks

I never had a gun pulled on me

... thinks... nope

I never owned a pair of "hammer pants" (like MC Hammer)

pfft... haha... chill

I never wore a fanny pack

nope...

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At 11/6/05 06:28 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: I'm guessing... secks?

heh... I hate you. : )

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Yes, it is true. I stepped into a new world: the busy array of lights and speed. I held dear to my mother’s hand and cried as she applied pressure to my back. I looked at her and said, “Why mother? Why do this?”

She replied, “You have to learn, dear.”

I told her to shut the fuck up and I’ll learn on my own terms, but she wasn’t having it and gave me one good boost of momentum. Two feet were cemented to the sizzling asphalt road beneath, and I just stared. I stared at my toes squirming within my shoes.

With one look back, and a gesture to continue… I walked. Dear god, I walked even slower then I did the night before after a bottle of crown royal and fourteen shots of white tequila. I didn’t know it was possible to carry twice your body weight across a road, but I did. And finally, when I stepped back up on the opposing curb, I looked back once more, and my mother gave me a kiss on the cheek before jumping off my back.

“Thanks, hun,” she said.

I turned around and walked right back into the fucking traffic.

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Two more poems:

Arms Length But More

“Weeping tree of slender arms,
do you speak the tongue of volume?
For I, a man, have had the length
to reach and touch, but not handle.”

Above the crier, there sings a choir
of twenty or more beaked felons,
and with their song, travels long arms
that swing and sway with Marion.

“I see you there, an arm away.
Why can’t you be my partner?
I sit here dear, awaiting my chance
To reach and steal from under.”

Hold my leave. Not others.

Beautiful Girl

A shy little girl hides behind her mother’s leg
as she is introduced to the unknown crowd.
Each individual gives a comforting smile,
awing at the features of the beautiful girl.
Limestone lake eyes glisten in the light,
rose petal cheeks rise with new sights,
and a smile, a tender, catching smile,
matures with every counting second.

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At 11/5/05 12:16 PM, XwaynecoltX wrote: Always great to see your stuff, this one is full of effort and detail, me likes...

Merci beacoup man. Appreciate the words.

At 11/5/05 12:33 PM, Quisty wrote: Myst your one of the best story writters here. I love always reading your work and all the effort you put into it. Keep it up!

Thanks so much Quisty. : ) I like your poem as well.

A couple more poems:

Arms Length But More

“Weeping tree of slender arms,
do you speak the tongue of volume?
For I, a man, have had the length
to reach and touch, but not handle.”

Above the crier, there sings a choir
of twenty or more beaked felons,
and with their song, travels long arms
that swing and sway with Marion.

“I see you there, an arm away.
Why can’t you be my partner?
I sit here dear, awaiting my chance
To reach and steal from under.”

Hold my leave. Not others.

Beautiful Girl

A shy little girl hides behind her mother’s leg
as she is introduced to the unknown crowd.
Each individual gives a comforting smile,
awing at the features of the beautiful girl.
Limestone lake eyes glisten in the light,
rose petal cheeks rise with new sights,
and a smile, a tender, catching smile,
matures with every counting second.

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At 11/6/05 03:26 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: I sure will be. However, it's time for me to grab some candy...

Enjoy yourself, mate.

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At 11/6/05 01:14 PM, -TheDoctor- wrote: Okey dokey, just read through GumOnShoe's piece, here be my comments:

Wow, some wonderful critique... I hope you are as thorough with mine. : )