Ladies and gentlemen... the WrongPlanet writing showcase

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http://naamahcrossbones.deviantart.com/

This my deviant art account

Just wrote this poem, it's to my friends and family in my current home, Washington state, it's for them to read upon my move to Los Angeles:

CONSIDER ME GONE
by Johnny Garfield

I came into your life one fine day
You saw me as the greatest angel out there

I've grown so much, I've come a long way
An upbeat person, something so rare

But now I've got to leave
My new life awaits me in L.A.

Please, don't cry or grieve
I may come back another day

But for now, consider me gone
Starting a new chapter for myself

It's a dream I've dwelled on
Please, don't try to pity yourself

Thanks for all the great times together
But I must leave for Los Angeles

No matter what happens, no matter what the weather
We'll see each other again, but now I must start my new life in this SoCal metropolis....

_________________
LIONS-STAMPEDERS-ELKS-ROUGHRIDERS-BLUE BOMBERS-TIGER-CATS-ARGONAUTS-REDBLACKS-ALOUETTES

The Canadian Football League - What We're Made Of

Feel free to talk to me, if you wish.

Every day is a gift- cherish it!

"A true, true friend helps a friend in need."

I wrote this a while back. It is an extract where my hero is is a leader called the DreamMaker. Its probably not as good as I thought at the time, so any comments are welcome. I want to start writing again, but look for directions.

The Beautiful Land

What could the dream achieve? Brian could not allow himself the indulgence often. Others had to test them and even then share the task. It was advanced Holography and each object or person in the dream nothing more than algorithms and polygons in a computer achieved the virtual reality. Yet the mind said they were reality. Techno hypnosis I suppose, perhaps the technology wouldn’t even be needed if the masses ha imagination. Perhaps they would have imagination if they didn’t have the dreams, but that was a risk the leaders had always preferred not take. So if the masses had imagination what would they do? Perhaps finding that if was the purpose of The Wall experiment.

Let me try another experiment, only this time not with real people. I’ll have to be very careful here, it could be dangerous. What do I want mostly? He asked himself every time and still came up with the same old answers, and for that matter the same questions. Men in general wanted awesome power, danger and the beautiful woman. What the beautiful woman would want was quite another thing. However, sumptuous luxury as history had often shown bought societies to another step near decay. War in History had often been the national sport and the winner took all.

It is plainly obvious our dreams have given the masses everything they could want, but that everything had been destructive. OK, I’ll give them the power and the woman, and maybe let the woman take her own part, but there will be restrictions. It will not be the ultimate do as you please scenario: if the restrictions are violated things will go terribly wrong, as if they haven’t already. There would be the moral law of right and wrong and religions have never been allowable, but let’s just play the game, this is a dream.

Brian found himself in a wooded countryside with no signs of human life. He had a solar rechargeable gun and a small bag round his waist. In the bag were a small amount of rations, a tiny computer and some medical supplies. Looking around he saw brilliant red berries, apples, but very small and hard, and acorns. That and the sun told him it was late summer.

A squirrel held a nut in its little paws munching contentedly, ignoring Brian’s presence. The quite suddenly it looked up and ran up a tree. The wood had become quiet, only a gentle breeze causing a rustle in the green leaves. Brian listened, not only with his ears but that inner part of himself as he did everyday in Cyberworld. Fright he thought. Flight and Fright with pumping adrenaline. Somebody is running from danger and it’s from that direction, south. He hid behind a mass of foliage waiting, as the fear grew stronger. Almost without any sound to betray her, a woman appeared breathing heavily, stooping for a moment to quieten her gasping. She was tall, her long blonde hair tied behind her head. Strong athletic and no doubt with some intellect, she wore a robe, torn stained, but once beautiful. Her face muscles were too taught to see her looks properly, but finely boned enough. Her enemy must be formidable.

Rushing out into the glade to help her might have led him into a trap, so Brian decided to wait. The woman had sunk trembling with exhaustion to her knees, but her will was not broken for a moment. He was still listening. This time it was it adrenaline rush, excitement, aggression and violence. The shouting of an ancient language he couldn’t quite catch, now running feet falling heavily on the soft floor of the wood. Taking care to remain hidden Brian set his gun to stun and held it ready. Warriors armed with swords, knives, clubs plus a few spears, hideous, huge men as tall as his own six and a half feet, but massively built, and tending to be overweight. The woman had picked herself up ready to run again, but fell, her muscles too stiff even to walk. The cruel faces leered as they as she looked, waiting for their first move. A very courageous young woman she was.

Brian waited for the warriors to form a tight pack then fired a continuous stream of light. The bronze weapons seared into their bodies from the heat of the ray. He had not accounted for the build up of heat from his weapon from his weapon, intended to be for short bursts. He would have to control his anger. The woman watched mystified as the men fell. She had glimpsed a bright light and her enemy was vanquished. She was still not at ease, evidently expecting more pursuers. Some fruit caught her attention and she ate greedily, the sugar would restore her energy.

Brian had wondered why his natural instincts had not allowed him to rush in and play the hero. Perhaps for the same reason the brutal warriors clearly respected her self-defence abilities and the feeling she might not be grateful as he would have hoped. She might not trust anyone and stunning her with the gun was not exactly what he had in mind.

She was a beauty, a princess of the blood, a monarch’s daughter who her enemy must catch at any cost. She had stopped eating to watch the reappearance of the squirrel, her face now relaxed. Yet Brian sensed she was still listening, always alert. Was she aware of his presence? He thought she had a suspicion of it. He must find a way to win her trust, to find out more about her and more to the point her enemy, which needless to say would be his own.

Now the fear had subsided he began to sense more of her true nature. Indeed she had an inner beauty, something more like transparency, unsullied by the brute nature of selfishness. She was aware as Brian stepped out into the glade, gun placed in his belt. He stood a distance away from her, letting her watch him, allowing her to weigh him in the balance. The he spoke with a gentle voice, “The warriors, are there more?” She thought for a moment then looked fearfully in the direction from which she came. “So, you have a language similar to mine princess. Then please understand they will be my enemies also, I have no doubt.”

She had a good measure of him, yet even so still did not completely trust his intentions. Brian looked a little hurt by this rejection. The she looked at him frowning a little and said, “You are good man, but not I think completely in reality.”

She has the measure of Cyberworld in me; it is more serious than I thought. He decided that to be truthful with such a discerning young woman was the only way. “I come from a place, perhaps in another time where reality is hard to know. My mission here is to find it.”

The young woman looked perplexed for a moment then replied, “Reality is all around you, what are you looking for?”

At that moment Brian looked to the south again. His awareness told him that the warriors had horses this time and there were more of them. There was no adrenaline rush, just a sense of power, greed and the hunter’s determination for the catch. His own adrenaline had begun to pump through his blood and the excitement caused by a possible coming conflict and the common cause with this beautiful young woman stirred up long buried feelings. “It’s time to go princess. They’ll be fast this time and not dull witted foot soldiers either.”

They ran through the trees, ducking under branches making it hard for any horsemen to follow to find a steep bank with protruding tree roots, which led to a stream. The woman stopped and smiled, “There must be a place to hide on the other side, there is a cliff farther down, I’m sure of it. The horsemen will not follow us.” They clambered down the bank and walked quickly downstream. A small waterfall prevented them from going further and the rock face next to it rose straight out of the rushing water. Fighting the current they held hands, supporting each other as they walked over the slippery rocks under the water until they were able to grip a hard outcrop of jutting granite. Covered by the tall trees of the wood climbed with renewed energy. The riders had entered to wood under the cover of trees, so they were still free from their sight. Brian continued to climb, but her strength had begun to fail her again. He pulled the young woman to the top and lifted her over the ledge.

“We’ve got away, aren’t you pleased,” she asked.

“Those men will recover soon enough with only burn scars. I set my weapon to stun, not kill. But that’s not my problem. The riders will know my weapon’s ability. They will not under estimate me. I would have preferred not to let the enemy know my strength.”

The woman looked at him carefully again. “You are not a warrior, how do you understand these things?”

“Where I come from we play power games with words and gestures. Nobody gets hurt, but we can limit each other lives at times. The tactics are the same.” Her suspicion had become more of an interest, but he was not ready to tell her about the dreams just yet.

“You are an artist, I think, a sensitive man too kind hearted to kill your enemy. Yet there is a ruthless streak in you, an enigma.” She stood up, “We must follow the sun.” They walked away from the site line of any warrior below. “I should like to see what you do. You are a private man, never saying much about yourself directly, always about your people, but your work would tell me everything.”

Brian turned away looking at the distant hills. The woman walked up close to face him. “What happened? You have courage, you were not afraid of the warriors, you have great strength of character, yet you live with a far deeper fear.”

Brian thought for a moment, “What is the deepest fear of mankind? Warriors are not afraid of death, yet they still have fear before battle. Sometimes death seems to be the easiest option fro many people.” He thought about the feelings of absolute terror the masses of Cyberworld suffered without dreams in the Punishment Block. “Perhaps man’s greatest fear is some kind of eternal madness. We look for happiness and fulfilment, we avoid problems if at all possible and then as a consequence have more fear within ourselves.”

“Are you avoiding something? The woman continued looking directly into his face.

Brian who had only been truly understood by one father figure found this deep questioning very difficult, and wondered why she didn’t talk about herself. Who was she? Perhaps it was easier to talk with somebody he didn’t know. “I have the responsibility to find answers for my people. Failure means something more terrible than I can understand.

She smiled slightly and said, the answer must be in yourself, but you avoid it.”

They had climbed a gentle slope, but the view at the top was outstanding with grass of the greenest hue, woods and distant hills. A hare stood up sniffing the air, the bounded down the hill. Brian was still listening, but the enemy was no longer nearby. They had stopped to catch their breath, Brian looking for signs of civilisation. “We have a story, nobody knows where from. It may never be spoken of, it may not be found in the records, yet somehow I know it has the answer for me, for all of us. There is a city far away, The Silver City where the people have discovered an answer to all these things. As you know we avoid our pain thinking that is happiness. As an artist person I know that pain is part of the creative process. It is in some way necessary to life. Yet these people in the city have in some way passed through all of that and live without sorrow. The place is full of light and there are no shadows. The light seems to have no particular source it is everywhere.”

“Yes,” she replied, “pain is part of life. It is when we face the pain and take it into our lives rather than avoid it we find the way to true happiness. The Silver City, shouldn’t that be in each one of us?”

Brian immediately thought of Julie. “Yes, but how?”

“If you think it is such a wonderful thing then why forbid it?”

He answered, “It means stepping over the line where we lose control of our destiny.”

The woman smiled again then looked far out to the distant hills. It seems to me you have already done that. It seems to me that you are trying to find it. Do you know what your destiny really is?”

The rolling landscape had given Brian not the slightest hint of human habitation. There was no smoke, no hint of a straight line to indicate a building and no signs of agriculture. “Are there any people? It must have been settled at one time, surely?”

“Yes, they lived over those hills.”

“But this land waits for people to live in it. Where have they gone?”

“This is my home,” she answered, “I am the Keeper. The people will return one day.”

“So that is why the warriors wanted you. If they capture you then the land is theirs.”

“They want more, much more. Their greed is insatiable.”

Brain carried on gazing at the landscape, watching the hills separate into layers as the sun lowered over them. Beautiful was simply not an adequate word for this land, or the woman.

A little thing I wrote:

The scent of the night club was something that I'd never thought I'd never smell from the booze to the weed filling the room. I never thought I'd see 24 years old. Ever since the death of my best friend that I was forced into ending his life I have changed like the seasons. Who I used to be is being eaten alive like a parasite inside me.

"Jared!" My aunt called my "name".

The rain fell upon me leaving me soaked. My clothes felt like they weighed more than my 142 pound body. I used to be heavier than that, but ever since the change happened food has become a foreign substance of pleasure.

"Jared! You're going to get sick! Come inside!" My aunt continued to shout at me.

As I walked up to her silently I let out a sigh. When I entered the door I walked right past Amber without even acknowledging her existence.

"Quit calling me that." I said with my back turned to her.

I turned my head as my eyes turned blood read and the purple and red dye in my hair left small stains on my face.

"My name is Adrien now." I said as my father sat on his ass talking to my uncle who had so much sugar in the tank, he reeked of it.

When my dad noticed me he stood up and walked up to me. He got on his knees like I was some kind of higher power.

"King Jared..."He started the sentence and I finished it.

"Is not my name." I said watching the raindrops slowly caress the windows.

Roman stood back up and looked into my eyes with sorrow and regret.

"Please don't leave! We will treat you like you've always deserved!" Roman said reaching out to touch my right shoulder.

Suddenly, as quick as I could, I grabbed his wrist and my body told me not to let go.

"No." I said holding on tighter.

I soon let go and saw the imprints from my fingernails on the neon blue veins of the inside of his wrist.

"I need to start my own life and move on. A 24 year old man living in his family's home is pathetic." I said turning around and staring at the front door.

Amber was crying and sobbing like she actually thinks that she can play the role and take the place of a mother figure.

"I'll make you a compromise. Keep this "Jared" person close to your heart. Keep his memory alive. At the same time let Adrien Licht his own life. You cannot delete the past, but you can type a new document for your future." I soon said those words as I walked outside of that excuse for a "home" with absolutely no regrets or sympathy for my "family" or whatever that feeling is.

The sky is blue and the beach shines fair,

the children runs where calm waves fades.

And when you step into the rolling shore,

no wound'd be there to salt and cleanse.

The wind shall stroke where peppers sting sore,

And summer would warm the bleak prison chills.

And when you undress and immersed at last,

there won't be sights of gleaming scars,

as wave erases our distant past.

I have a bunch of stories. Wish people would read them.

Rikki-tikki-tavi 2: Rising Tides
Rikki-tikki-tavi 3: Revenge of the Cobra Queen
Rikki-tikki-tavi 4: Family Fued
The Fox and the Hound 3: Friends Forever
Star Wars Episode III: Convention of the Systems
The Land Before Time XV: The Friendly Sharptooth Flyer
The Land Before Time XVI: The Lonely Longneck
The Land Before Time XVII: The Threehorn Gathering

(I have more, but I've posted enough links and may add more later. I'm kinda busy as a ton of family just came over.)

A couple of days ago I published the first novel of my four part series. Since it's a weird contemporary post-cyberpunk story I didn't really bother with a publisher and went straight to self-publishing. It's written in German and rather unlikely to ever see a complete English translation. I might do a kickstarter in case there are enough people asking for a translated version.


about the story

The story is roughly 216k words (728 pages in the paperback edition) long and tells the tale of a group of young people venturing into the internet and to a degree into the New Economy of the late 1990s. It's centered around Carl who becomes both internet entrepreneur and part of a group of commercial film pirates in the pre-P2P file-sharing era. His life seems to be one of dedication to his hobbies and businesses. He even meets his future wife during his activities. However one day he gets caught by the security team from one of the major film distributors. Instead of being arrested he gets an offer to save his girlfriend and himself from prosecution. During that time he notices that he is different from other people around him. While his whole world slowly turns upside down, he learns that there is a name for that state of being different. He learns that he has something called the Asperger-Syndrome.


bibliographic details

title: "p¡r@t€Z: downloading the internet wholesale"
author: "Jo L.L. Roger"

language: German

ISBN: 9783737563512
ASIN (amazon): B014PN8RWU

This is my poem.

Ode to the Great Pumpkin

Great Pumpkin, you are Halloween's answer
To Santa Claus.
I come to you with a request-
Restore innocence to all of us everywhere.

Although no one can see you,
You are visible in my and Linus' hearts.
I come to sing pumpkin carols
And revel in your runner-up status to the Easter Bunny.

My pumpkin patch is very sincere this year,
Demonstrating simplicity.
O Great Pumpkin, where are you?
I am hoping for your arrival on Halloween night,
Without any sign of hypocrisy.

I've lost interest in the story I had been working on, then let drop for a time. So the other night, I started on a story I had been working on a year ago but lost interest in, and it seems to be working out. Hopefully, the previous story will be resurrected given enough time for me to give myself some rest from it.

Here is the link to the sci-fi story I am currently working on.
https://onedrive.live.com/redir?resid=E ... ile%2cdocx

The draft is just over 10,000 words so far.

The story takes place in another Solar System known as the Altanis System. A reptilian alien race known as the Reptiloid Empire, with superior technology and intelligence, is believed to want to take over the entire system, however many skeptics believe they have other goals in mind (hint: this is true. They aren't trying to take over the galaxy, they have another reason).

So far they have invaded and enslaved 2 different planets of the system and now control 3, out of 11.

They invaded a planet known as Destiny in the First Invasion of Destiny. Destiny's government and the entire planet as a whole was left in absolute ruin and destruction. The majority of Destiny's environ emental life went extinct.

However, the Reptiloid Empire were scared-off by a rebellion. The rebellion successfully managed to prove an effective resistence to the Reptiloid Empire.

After the Reptiloid Empire left, the Rebellion, being the most powerful form of military left on the planet, decided to declare themselves the de-facto rulers of Destiny.

Overtime, the Rebellion had also become more militarized and organized, and is now nearly on par with a normal military.

Also, it should be noted that the Rebellion are MULTI-SPECIES and aren't just made up of humans.

Destiny has it's own time system (year/month/day, D for Destiny time), it's own language, and 'rebellion'-based culture that will pop up in the story from time to time.

Even though the rebellion had scared-off the Reptiloid's, they have been fighting them in space and on other worlds for years now, along with their allies the Wagnarok species from the nearby planet of Wagnus V. The most major of these was the Callista Campaign, which you can find details of it in Chapter 3.

The story begins at the very start of the Second Invasion of Destiny, in which the Reptiloid Empire commit their second invasion of Destiny against the rebellion. It started immediately after the Callista Campaign ends.

There IS NO good and evil in this story. The Rebellion and Wagnarok's are initially portrayed as 'good' and the Reptiloid's as 'evil', however more will be revealed to show they are all shades of grey. However, none of this has been written yet, so there are NO clues so far, and you WILL assume there is good and evil at first.

P.S. It gets very disorganized and messy after Chapter 3 due to still being edited.

Sounds quite interesting, Outrider. None of my heroes and villains are ever black and white.

Thank you. What about you, Karaudo777. I've heard you mention writing, so you don't have anything online or anything to share?

All of my stuff is hand-written, and I just can't seem to get around to typing the whole trilogy out [plus all the bonus stuff].
I do have poetry in a little notebook, however, so if anyone's interested I can probably type a couple out. I've started an epic poem called Transcendence and I'm on Part 5 of 17 so far.

Since realising that there was more going on in life than I noticed (and understanding a bit better why things would lead to me getting frustrated), I have worked on some personal improvements. Recently I've had a bit more free time so have being looking at some courses and books on speaking, communication skills, mindfulness etc. This seems to be making some improvements in my life, so I want to carry it on further. I've always thought about trying to have some more creative hobbies, like writing, drawing or photography, but for a while I have not carried through on this.

To help me express myself more and to help with coming up with ideas, thoughts and more interesting ways of saying them, I thought I would use this thread as motivation and an outlet to put down some of my writings. So here goes for my first piece of creative writing, a poem I have called The Persuaders:

I walks in, enter the place, feel the pressure
In and out fast and don’t respond
Do not talk, do not see, noticing everything yet taking in nothing
Intensity rising
Two persuaders come
One bony and cold in its long, crooked stovepipe hat, its skeletal limbs grasping from tattered suit
The other, fiery
A ghoul, sneaking behind in its cape

They whisper in my ear to spill their toxic words
A doubter
I walk through
The vortex swells inside, the blood infused with lava, expands, pulsating, pressure everywhere, intense
The babble gets louder, but the words twist around each other and suck the walls in closer
Don’t look, don’t see, don’t speak
I am trapped in my island, everything bubbling up, unable to focus
In out fast, don’t respond
Run out, run out, run out

Everyone looks, but I bare nothing, silence within
The Persuaders whisper again, look down, move on
Think of something to say, think of something to say, you can’t, they won’t like
That preparation, out of reach, filled somewhere else, the path not known
The work is never enough
Escape, release
Over

Grow from the island,
Grow into the surroundings
Grow be the pacific
Breathe more, relax
Harmony and balance

Walk in, enter the place
A look, a glance
It’s understood
Relaxed, open
Smile some more

See inside, see clear
Colours, life and the ocean floor
Finish a sentence, a thought
A pause, a response
Even a smile

The door stays shut
They don’t come out
Not much, a little
A start
Enough

Shadow and Light

I saw your sandaled little feet,
stepped into view of your yellow little window;
A cosy little box,
shining like dozens of others on your sleeping flat.

I saw your porcelain little hands,
stroking across page after page;
A cultured woman,
if not sleepy.

I saw your slim little body,
clad under a gown enjoying the joy and warmth
inside your cosy little box;
And across the fifty meters of winter night air,
you warmed me.

You were the light and I was the shadow;
You saw from above but you wouldn't see, never noticed,
as I watched from the shade beneath;
Did you see what I see, my partner of fate,
of the shadows below the feet under your feet?
As your fine fingers turned the pages,
did it tell of slate basement room,
walled in at a forsaken corner on asphalt smelled of dried spits,
where I rested with rabbles and scums,
where I gazed the grey ceiling, at you?

But the car came in,
passing by my outpost without a glance;
Your yellow world flickered
as the man joined you;
Night in, day out.
And the chill breezes calmed my dream,
bringing upon me the silent reminder
of the difference of existence;
The light belongs to the light;
The night belongs to the night.

But you were always my light,
as I was your shadow;
Unseverable, inescapable,
I would be there wherever you are,
wherever you hag,
wherever you read,
wherever you wail,
wherever I touched your tears behind a security screen,
as you left from the doors I opened
unnoticed,
unknown,
forgotten.

Wow! What an awesome poem, Woodpecker!
Here's the first two chapters of my first book if anyone's interested:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rKYUv5NqlagyHHot-djx6pvnqsMvLnqFbqdXWjiszUM/edit