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At 3/10/05 03:18 PM, -Manic- wrote: Ok i need people sopinion son names. Which soudns better to you lot?

some names

I like Eyes of a dragon.

At 3/10/05 03:43 PM, deathtuna wrote: I like Eyes of a dragon.

lol good cause that's the one I liek but I asked a few of my friedns and they said they didn't like it so i cam up with some alternatives and showed them. got mixed reaction and thought it might be a good diea to get the opinios of people who actually know the difference between Dickens and Tolkien.

At 3/10/05 03:46 PM, -Manic- wrote:

At 3/10/05 03:43 PM, deathtuna wrote: I like Eyes of a dragon.

lol good cause that's the one I liek but I asked a few of my friedns and they said they didn't like it so i cam up with some alternatives and showed them.

It's a good name, but it sounds a bit 'Bruce Lee' to me. Intentional?

At 3/10/05 04:25 PM, Coop83 wrote: It's a good name, but it sounds a bit 'Bruce Lee' to me. Intentional?

I'd be lieing if I said it was.

At 3/10/05 05:01 PM, Grandfather-Clock wrote: can i join plz?

As far as I'm concerned, you're a member.

Please read and review this poem!

In the Distance
Shattered in Verse
By: M. Zackular

I think she knows how I feel
Talking to her, as if in zeal.
I think she knows that I love her.
Now this feelings are just a blur.

Aging with every step I take
I'm the sand of a wave, left in the wake.
Can you see me or can you hear?
I love you so much, can you see the tear?

Now what am I to do?
The promises falling through.
I can hardly stand, I can hardly wait.
For the Grim Reaper, my death date.

Jaded and fake,
Drugs I take.
Things I do.
Thoughts of you.

All that and more
As you walk out the door.
Hear my last breath,
Now for my death.

Now I sit, here with my pen.
I'm thinking of you again.
You can't get out of my head.
You'll stay with me 'till I'm dead.

Usually I'd play my hand
The way it was all planned.
Well, it's gone for good
Just like it should...

hi every one sry i haven't been on my parents are mad at me any ways this is my first name but i typed my name wrong so it wouldn't let me in so i made an alternate name until it let me on... i wasn't banned just so i tell you. Anyways mike my poetry sucks compared to yours i mean i found nothing wrong with it( i suck ate grammer thought) but like Mysts i expect more from you because you got skill

At 3/10/05 07:29 PM, VOTE_4_PEDRO wrote: Anyways mike my poetry sucks compared to yours

Oh right.. Heheh.

No Working Title
-Tony D

My hate is very strong
In this day and age
Because everything I do is wrong
So I build up all my rage.

So please don't give me crap
I don't know what I might do.
One day I could snap
And beat you with my shoe.

Don't worry. I myself said WTF at this line.

I'm not talking about killing
That would not be right
We could be chilling
And I'd hit you with all my might.

I wasn't always like this
It's all because of my Dad
We used to catch fish
Now he makes me mad

He was my only friend
I thought he was cool
But the happiness had to end
So we just fought about school.

He expected me to fail
He expected the worst.
I'd rather be hit by hail
Than to live my life cursed.

Remember, this isn't my poem, but review it for dear old Tony (AKA Vote_4_Pedro.)

thanks mike and you had to say wtf o well i

ok I got more
NO TILTLE

The old Jeep tore blacktop as Dan drove toward the woman who haunted his thoughts during the day and waited in his dreams every night.

One busted headlight was dark and blind above the Jeep's twisted bumper; the other headlight was flared to BRIGHT-a cyclopean eye that spotlighted all the things that hid in the night and just as quickly abandoned them to the darkness-
First: a rusted road sign pockmarked with shotgun fire.
Second: a patch of teddy bear cholla and prickly pear cactus.
Third: a memorial tribute Cody had driven by many, many times.
Once Dan had stopped by the roadside memorial in the bright light of day, had knelt on the hard-packed dirt stained with motor oil. He wasn't much on prayers, but he'd said one before the plain white crucifix with its faded wreath of plastic flowers that encircled a fith-grade photograph of a smiling, dark-haired girl.

Sorry too tired to post the rest I'll post my whole chapter tommorow it should get good hear pretty soon. sorry

Am I to late to join?

At 3/10/05 09:08 PM, Loathe wrote: Am I to late to join?

Why would you be?
Welcome to the Writer's Guild!
Post some of your poems or stories, etc. here, or review other people's work!

Alright cool. Right now I'm working on a story, but it's kinda rough. I'll post it when it makes more sense, which should be pretty soon, thanks for letting me join.

At 3/10/05 06:55 PM, WithoutCease wrote:
Please read and review this poem!

In the Distance
Shattered in Verse
By: M. Zackular

Nice title, blah blah.

I think she knows how I feel
Talking to her, as if in zeal.
I think she knows that I love her.
Now this feelings are just a blur.

except for zeal, this is a nice stanza. Maybe its just me, but i pronounce zeal as if it were spelled zell, like hell. But that doenst matter, Shakespeare never rhymed perfectly "This night I hold an old accustomed feast, whereto I have invited many a guest"

Aging with every step I take
I'm the sand of a wave, left in the wake.
Can you see me or can you hear?
I love you so much, can you see the tear?

The second line here was a little awkward. The sand of a wave? Maybe you could change it to something like "I'm sand in the ocean, left in the wake"?Also, I liked the thrid and fourth lines here, using sight in each line.

Now what am I to do?
The promises falling through.
I can hardly stand, I can hardly wait.
For the Grim Reaper, my death date.

Good Solid Stanza.

Jaded and fake,
Drugs I take.
Things I do.
Thoughts of you.

This seemed really abrupt to me, but it is still a good stanza.

All that and more
As you walk out the door.
Hear my last breath,
Now for my death.

Good.

Now I sit, here with my pen.
I'm thinking of you again.
You can't get out of my head.
You'll stay with me 'till I'm dead.

I like this stanza too. Especially the first line here. Referring to yourself as you write the poem makes it seem more personal.

Usually I'd play my hand
The way it was all planned.
Well, it's gone for good
Just like it should...

A little vague, but a decent ending.

All in all a good decent poem. My only advice is that maybe you try to connect lines better. For the most part each line was a sentence, which gives the poem a very abrupt and staccato (music pays off) feeling. Try connecting every two lines into one sentence, it will give the poem more of a flow, whil still keeping the syllable and rhyme scheme.
_________________________________________________________________________

And Loathe, though Im not a leader here, Im quite sure you can join. If you have any writing at all, prose or verse, please go ahead and post it up. Also, review other's works while your here.

At 3/10/05 09:24 PM, deathtuna wrote: A very great review and...
The second line here was a little awkward. The sand of a wave? Maybe you could change it to something like "I'm sand in the ocean, left in the wake"?Also, I liked the thrid and fourth lines here, using sight in each line.

That is very true. I noticed it made no sense after I posted. Alas, changes can still be made to it.

Thank you for the great review!

Ok this is a little messed up, I'm making a new begining, and I'm gonna perfect later, but for now I'm just writing the words.
One stormy day an adult, about the age of 31 was driving home from work. Lightning struck in front of his car, and he felt a bump. In fright he frantically threw his head back, and looked behind him. Nothing was there, nothing he could see anyway. Once he looked the window slowly started to fog up but a figure appeared. A loud beep was heard, and his head was tossed forward.
When the beep happened his eyes opened and it was but a bright day. He looked around him on the road, and found many other cars. He figured he just fell asleep, so he stopped at a Dunkling Donuts near his house. He picked up a large coffee, but when he turned around from ordering it there was the figure he saw in his dream, the figure he barely noticed before his window fogged up.
In fright he lightly jumped, and spilled some of his coffee on his….bright red jacket? A couple minutes ago his jacket was a bluish color. His eyes opened yet again, and he found himself in the safe confines of his house.
“Oh, Shit…” He said to himself. I’m crazy I must be! I’m going back there…
“Honey, I’m going out, I’ll be back in about an hour.” He spoke to his wife.
“Okay, hurry back, I’m making lunch.’” She replied.
He went to the same Dunkling Donuts he saw in his dream. It was empty, completely empty. He hopped over the counter, and continued to the back. He opened a black door, and on the other side of the door there was the same thing. He walked in the door, and the door slammed shut behind him..
He looked behind him, where the black door was, but now it was red, as well as his jacket again. He shivered in fear, scared….Scared of it…
He opened another door, and was in Dunkling Donuts. He was wearing the appropriate clothing as well. He looked around, and saw the place almost full. He turned around and looked at the red door, but….Unfortunately there was no door…
“Hey, get to work!” Someone with the same uniform of his said. He walked to the counter, and said,
“Can I help you?”
The figure was there again, but up close he saw a normal person…
“I know you…”
“So you think?” The figure smiled in satisfaction.
A white light appeared and it was him and the figure he spoke. “Who are you?”
“Me, I’m death, I’m life, I’m the twinkle in everyone’s eye. I’m God, but I’m Satan.”
I need comments though.

At 3/10/05 09:40 PM, Loathe wrote: I need comments though.

If I could sum that up in one word I would say "Amazing!"

It may seem a little confusing at some times, but I really like the mystery of the plot, and how it develops so rich. Good job, by far!

Thanks for the comment, I was worried about that, but as I get deeper into it I'm gonna start to fall back into flashbacks to the begining. I'll make it clearer.

At 3/10/05 09:40 PM, Loathe wrote:
I need comments though.

Nice start. It certainly is a little messed up, but i think once you get it polished up it will be quite a good story. A good start to what looks to be something great.

Thanks

I gotta go, I'll try to send you guys some more tomorrow.

Crying

You always hurt my heart.
You always hurt my soul.
Why are you so cold to me?
I really want to know.

I do everything you want.
I do everything for you.
Is it not enough?
Do you hate me too?

Each day I die a little more.
Each day I wonder why.
Each day I wish you would show me love.
Each day I start to cry.

My love for you is dying.
My love for you is dying.
I wish you were the same as before.
I wish you were the man I love.

I fear you now,
and I fear your world.
I run from you now,
and I hide away.
I pray you will want me back someday.

well, i would like to join this club, mainly because i like to write stories
i will start off with this i wrote, i would like comments and i havent revised it yet
it is only a small part of a story im writing, the beggining part
i wont give anything away, the name
the chapter name, nothing

Bullets soared past me as I ducked under a cave. I pulled out my pistol and fired 7 shots at him, he took ducked back under the car and reloaded his pistol. I thought this was a perfect time to get the surprise on him, as I got up I pulled a grenade out of back pocket and was about to hurl it at him, when a warthog comes out of nowhere and runs me over.
“Haha, game over I win” exclaimed Charley. “No fair, it was supposed to be two on one, not two on one and then the one gets run over…” I shouted, we had been playing a game of halo at my friend Charley’s house when my other idiot friend, Jacob, ran me over, “Your just a sore loser,” said Jacob, “you knew that I was coming”
“Oh whatever” and then I stormed out of the room into the kitchen. “Look, you can either play by how I play, or you can leave. I know its tough because of what you’re going to do, but I don’t need this lone wolf bullshit.” said Charley. I took a long sigh and said, “I guess your right, and since I need the practice I guess I will stay.”
The reason I need to practice at halo is because I have heard practicing shooting games will help you in real life, wait let me be a little clearer. I had just turned 18 and was enlisted into the military because of the major war in China, president Jerry had re-instated the draft and unfortunately I was picked. The war in China had begun because recently we had captured a Chinese general captain who had been caught organizing a rebellion against the American soldiers stationed in Beijing. We had captured him and tortured him into talking, it turns out he wasn’t alone. The entire Chinese government was making a plan to rid the entire country of American troops and take over the continent. It had started when the head of the Chinese government had been assassinated and the new ruler, Trisha Yoshima, had stepped into his place. She had deceived others with her beauty and majestic personality into getting where she was, do not be fooled though, she will cut off your head and eat it if she has to. She saw this as a perfect opportunity to unless her plan on the United States, but in her haste she had made the mistake of attacking USA before getting rid of the troops. She sent 3 missiles into orbit, each one landing in a important spot. One had landed on New York City, another in Las Angeles, and the final in Houston Texas. No one knows why she did it, we just know we had to stop her.
After 4 more hours of playing I decided to head back home. It was a long walk, I had to pass the little store, my old elementary school, my old middle school, and one long stretch of houses. Which is about 5 blocks. I slowly walked there because I knew what was home waiting for me. Homework, a small lecture about how to be brave in the face of danger, a larger lecture about what to do if I run out of ammo in the middle of a war, an even larger lecture about how my parents will love me if I kill someone. And that’s what I thought about the entire time walking home, I replayed the lectures over in my mind, what I would say, what they would say, it got quite monotonous thinking it over and over. So I tried to think of something else, I got nothing. So I tried thinking about the war, since it was so urgent I would most likely be handed a gun and some boots, told how to shoot, and then sent out into the infantry lines. But technology these days are getting to complicated, just 15 years ago we thought the Y2K bug was going to ruin computers forever, yet now a five year old can create a complex and thought out game. I thought what it would be like out in the trenches, bullets flying over my head, bodies falling to the left and right of me. The thought of it made me quiver, I decided to think about butterflies and lollypops. No luck, the thought of flowers soon turned into an army marching over those flowers into a field covered in bullets, and blood. As I walked up into my driveway I could smell the sweat smell of potato casserole and baked potatoes, my favorite. Ever since I had been notified that I was picked in the draft mom had been making my favorite food every day, and then dad would sit down next to me and we would chat. It was good family moments, and I knew that if I wasn’t picked we wouldn’t be doing this. But since tonight was my second to last night before I ship off to the nearest military boot camp, I wanted to treat it special. Since tommarow would be nothing but goodbyes and kisses. I ate dinner and had the three lectures just like I thought, I went up into my room and listened to some music before I fell asleep. The next day was mostly filled with “good bye Mike, I’ll miss you” and things like that. The only real goodbye I listened to was the ones from school, I had no idea I was so well known, I even got kissed by the cheerleaders. Truly something that will make the trip there easier. It was a busy day, and tomorrow would be even more busy. As I laid my head down to sleep I could tell I wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep. So I stayed up all night thinking about how the good-byes went and the “I promise I will be back” speeches. After awhile my mom knocked on the door, it was time to go.

well thats all for now, ill check back tommarow, cya

At 3/10/05 11:50 PM, Quisty wrote: Crying

From the heart, Quisty. He'll come around.

At 3/11/05 05:41 AM, Coop83 wrote: From the heart, Quisty. He'll come around.

I don't think he will. He still won't talk to me. I don't know what to do anymore. I think I am losing him...

Im going through similar stuff as well Quisty. And honestly, he may never come around, just as the girl I wrote my poetry for never came around. So make sure you dont get hurt badly if things dont turn out in your favour.

At 3/11/05 06:14 AM, Quisty wrote:

At 3/11/05 05:41 AM, Coop83 wrote: From the heart, Quisty. He'll come around.

I don't think he will. He still won't talk to me. I don't know what to do anymore. I think I am losing him...

Don't be so negative. Even in the word 'hopeless', there is hope.

Besides, we still love you on NG. <3 <3 <3

Psypeople

One stormy day an adult, about the age of 31 was driving home from work. Lightning struck in front of his car, and he felt a bump. In fright he frantically threw his head back, and looked behind him. Nothing was there, nothing he could see anyway. Once he looked the window slowly started to fog up but a figure appeared. A loud beep was heard, and his head was tossed forward.
When the beep happened his eyes opened and it was but a bright day. He looked around him on the road, and found many other cars. He figured he just fell asleep, so he stopped at a Dunkling Donuts near his house. He picked up a large coffee, but when he turned around from ordering it there was the figure he saw in his dream, the figure he barely noticed before his window fogged up.
In fright he lightly jumped, and spilled some of his coffee on his….bright red jacket? A couple minutes ago his jacket was a bluish color. His eyes opened yet again, and he found himself in the safe confines of his house.
“Oh, No…” He said to himself. I’m crazy I must be! I’m going back there…
“Honey, I’m going out, I’ll be back in about an hour.” He spoke to his wife.
“Okay, hurry back, I’m making lunch.’” She replied.
He went to the same Dunkling Donuts he saw in his dream. It was empty, completely empty. He hopped over the counter, and continued to the back. He opened a black door, and on the other side of the door there was the same thing. He walked in the door, and the door slammed shut behind him...
He looked behind him, where the black door was, but now it was red, as well as his jacket again. He shivered in fear, scared…Scared of it…
He opened another door, and was in Dunkling Donuts. He was wearing the appropriate clothing as well. He looked around, and saw the place almost full. He turned around and looked at the red door, but…unfortunately there was no door…
“Hey, get to work!” Someone with the same uniform of his said. He walked to the counter, and said,
“Can I help you?”
The figure was there again, but up close he saw a normal person…
“I know you…”
“So you think?” The figure smiled in satisfaction.
A white light appeared and it was him and the figure he spoke. “Who are you?”
“Me, I’m death, I’m life, I’m the twinkle in everyone’s eye. I’m God, but I’m Satan. I’m the angel on your shoulder, but I’m also the devil. I’m you.”
The adult’s eyes open, and he’s in his car, parked in Dunkling Donuts. Beads of sweat are ejected from his forehead, his eyes roll around in his head frantically. Out of fright he speeds to his house, and gets out of his car, and runs back into his house.
“You can't run”…He hears this in his head… “Who are you? What are you?” “I told you, I’m you. I’ve been living in your head dormant, like a volcano.” He then ignores the voice, and goes to see a psychiatrist. On the way lightning strikes in front of his car, but he hits the brakes, and looks around, it’s a sunny day, and cars go past him. He then sees someone sitting in the side of his car. He then speeds up to a bridge, and drives it off the bridge…
A week later a young kid, Jack sees this in the news, and has heard of this before. Many people have died by this bridge, and he begins to investigate. About a week later he finds out about it. It is a disease, a disease known as Psypeople. This disease causes people to go insane, and believe something is always around them, the transfer of the disease is unknown but it puts a small section of brain in your head. They have found a cure for this disease. What they do is they send a miniscule camera up your nose, and into your brain. They then shoot a tiny lazer, and cut off the piece of your brain.
Unfortunately at the time the John Doe who just recently had it didn’t know about it the least bit. As Jack went on he found out the disease is also just a state of mind. Fright. That’s what it was, fright. John Doe saw the lightning and was scared, he hit a pothole, and looked back thinking he hit someone, but it was nothing, until a man popped up, the man was a fragment of his imagination.
After Jack concluded this it was nighttime. A stormy day. He walked home with his flashlight, and metal baseball bat. To him there was no fright it seemed, he walked for at least 3 miles, and didn’t catch the disease.
One day a new person came into town. This person was psychotic. The reason was, it was this disease. Some people couldn’t get the disease though, and Jack was one of these people, the reason was unknown but it was most likely a vaccine he took when he was a mere child. The disease slowly evolved into a treacherous problem. People on the streets ran screaming and killing. The police could barely handle the disease.
Jack’s neighborhood finally caught the disease. Everyone was infected, and now it couldn’t be cured…Jack ran through the horrid lands, and though he’d run into another victim, he had a gun in his hand, and aimed it at Jack.
“Speak!” He shouted.
“What?!” Jack quickly replied.
The man with the gun, walked up to Jack.
“Sorry, I thought you were one of them…”
Jack and the man then walked through the desolate land, watching the corpses fidget. One body fidgeted so horribly the body’s arm slammed against Jack’s leg, causing minor pain. They then continued to walk until they found a large mall. They opened the door, and heard a crunch, and another crunch, then a loud shriek. The two ran into a room where there was a lady and her baby cornered by one of the monsters…The monster turned, and ran towards Jack and the man. The man aimed the gun, and shot. The bullet ripped through the monster’s head.
“Thank you for saving me!” The woman sighed with relief.
“You’re welcome, by the way I’m Jack.”
“Thank you, Jack. I’m Ellen.” She then looked at the man, “Hello, who are you?”
The man lowered his gun, “I’m Fred.”
“Nice to meet the both of you.”

They then ventured through the mall, and stopped at a WicDonalds. Jack hopped over the counter and retrieved some food. They ate, and talked after lunch.
They planned to leave and go to a different place. Fred could fly a plane, so they talked about the idea, and made plans to get there. Ellen found a Holonda store with cars in it, so they got in, and started the car. As they did they heard a loud shatter, the monsters broke in!
Ellen turned the car on and drove straight through the glass to the outside. They swapped on driving, until they got to an airport, where Fred then flew them to a distant island. They were just about to land, but then the plane went out of control and crashed into the ocean, where they were devoured by sharks, and then the apocalypse came, everything died. There's my story.

i was wondering if i could joing the world of roleplay. i was reading sum of it and its fricken kool if i can of course

At 3/11/05 04:14 PM, Loathe wrote: Psypeople

One stormy day an adult, about the age of 31

This sentence was such a sticker in my mind. 'About age 30' would have done. No-one says about and then give an exact age.

Other than that, break it up into paragraphs (Double spaced, so it's easier on the eyes) and you've got yourself a good story.