The Tired Mind Writes the Best Sonnets

Too tired... Too long of a day, too weird of a day, but also it was fun... Here's someting my brain came up with at 2:00 AM. You are welcome, I hope you enjoy it... Someday it will be read and someone will think that I was talking about the deep inner feelings that lay within each and every human being, perpetuating the individuality of modern society as a constant objection to the natural way of things, the evolution of the dogmatic days of yore into the technological giga-monoloths which stand towering overhead that somehow depict the frailty of the human condition by simply saying "no", or they'll say, "Oh God, another Graue poem... Why do I have to study this?" HA! Enjoy!



The late night witching hour is almost come,
Yet here I am, awake, biting my thumbs,
Unable to sleep and dream of a sweet find,
Blanket and Pillow, take away my mind.

Let me drift on clouds as I have oft done!
Let me rest on flowerbeds in the sun!
If not a moment of your precious sleep,
then pray my sanity am I to keep!

A new day dawns and I've not shut my eyes!
The red sun peels back the night in the skies,
My pillow I clutch tight, pleading for rest!
How can I start the day not at my best?!

Stars twinkling, give me all your power,
close my eyes tight and turn my heart sour,
silence my deep thoughts, let them stir me not,
As I try to sleep in what time I've got.

NaNoWriMo Novel Attempt (Chapter 1)

Well, my Christmas was quite awesome, hopefully, yours was as well! I got a good deal of stuff that I didn't even know I wanted till I got it, so I have that going for me. Funny enough, I decided I might as well post something, anything I could, since I haven't posted anything new on this poor, mistreated blog in a LONG time. Hopefully, since my spring semester should be SUPER easy, I think I should be able to post at least once a week, if not every other week.

Well, for your reading pleasure, I give you a section of my novel that I was writing for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month)! 2,000 of 12,000 words!

                The room had been as dark as any cloudy night where the clouds hid the moon from the Earth. The world seemed as black as the cold depths of a cave or the cold heights of space, but this hardly meant much to people who rarely saw the light. Not many existed, but those who were comfortable with the dark had made it their shroud, their cloak, their protective garment against the horrors of the dark prison they had come to know as life. The universe had all but forgotten them as they shipped them off in containers, cold, alone, without food, without contact, without a shred of clothes, dignity, or respect. The only thing they had was a name and time. Lots of time. Janus Ara Zilana was one of these blue eyed babes that had been tossed out into space only to be taken among the refuse of society and placed in confinement. Her hands shot straight up as the blinding light of some floating orb burst in through a slit in the cargo container's door. She had arrived.

                A dark shadowy figure moved in and grabbed her wrist, pulling her naked body into a standing position before he placed a small glowing stick against her forehead and read off a series of numbers to an unseen audience, her body shook, trembling with fear, excitement, anticipation, and confusion. The man then gripped her jaw with a leathery grip and tossed her head from side to side, examining her before tossing her towards the cold, hard steel wall of the container. Her head connected with the steel barrier with a loud thud, sending shockwaves of pain through her skull, addling her brain and sending confusion to the forefront of her emotional state. The feeling of cold steel shackles were placed about her wrists, pressing her chest out as the balls of her palm had no place to go except to touch one another in a comforting embrace. Her lips quivering as the man then lifted her by the neck from the wall and pushed her towards the open end of the container.

                The hot air of this new world had thrown her into a far more worried state, her mind sputtering out phrases as if the world could hear her every thought, where am I? Who are these men? Why am I naked? Why can't I speak? God, am I going to die? Where's David?

                David, that was a thought she had remembered, a memory, although distant, it still shown out like a beacon as she was lead from a small landing pad surrounded by high chain fences in every direction that connected to a high stone wall with a pair of double doors sitting uniformly in the center of the almost monolithic walls. The walls seemed awkward at first, flat, yet sloping slightly, and each brick had been painted a deep blue that seemed to calm Janus' screaming mind. Each step closer to the building though sent a shiver up and down Janus' spine, her long purple hair cascading down her hair doing nothing to ease the constant spasms, But one thing she knew was that this may very well be the last time she would feel the sun on her skin. The man pulled a small key from his belt and pressed it into a spot on the door that looked to be just big enough for Janus' thumb to fit, she hardly knew what she was thinking or concentrating on at this point as her hands interlaced fingers and kept herself from screaming out.

                As the doors slowly slide open, each disappearing into the walls at their sides, a soft hum came into Janus' head, her eyes shooting open as she looked about and saw a small video screen hovering in front of her with a face grinning down at her as an unseen voice erupted into her ears, "Welcome to Dark Watch, Miss Zilana, we've been expecting you."

                Janus paused for a moment, not sure of what to say before she slowly opened her lips and out came nothing but air, her eyes grew wider as she tried to scream, shout, say anything, but nothing came out as the man on the screen chuckled and shook his head.

"Miss Zilana, allow me to introduce myself, I am Warden Goddard, and you have been deemed such a hazard to the Government that you had your voice box removed. So, in an effort to help you with communication you will be granted a special service, which will be made apparent to you shortly. You see, we here at Black Watch take two things with the utmost pride, one, are you, the prisoner. The other is honesty."

                The man cleared his throat, something within Janus frightened her when she looked at this man, every fiber of her being told her to run, to never associate with this person, but with her hands bound and her armed escort she had little else to do except remain still.

"I being an honest man, enjoy putting every aspect of my intentions in the forefront. You see, Black Watch did very poorly as a normal colony, so poorly in fact, that the government along with my urging, decided to turn this entire planet into a prison colony. Prisoners bring money, more money makes me rich, and with being rich, I get to do whatever I want with you. This means, I use you to win me the most lucrative military contracts available."

                A short pause invaded the one-sided conversation as Warden Goddard seemed to pause for dramatic effect, reaching up his thin, care-worn, aging face and pulling his glasses from his nose and began to clean them with a silk cloth. His voice was slick, like a politician's, but something more devious lay within his very Earthly-British accent. "Now, here in Black Watch, we have only two rules. One: Whatever a guard tells you to do is law and if you do not comply, that will be a punishment defined by my own judgment of the situation. Two: Any attempt at escape will result in immediate termination. Mr. Monroe will now simplify those two rules for you."

                Just as Warden Goddard's image on the screen went silent, the rather large muscular man who had been silent all this while suddenly spoke in a thundering, deep voice that shook Janus' body in the narrow hallway that she was confined in.

                "You will do anything we tell you to do, if you don't, the warden decides your fate. Run and you get a hole in your fucking head."

                Janus saw the man on the screen shudder when he heard the obscenity spouted so freely, but quickly regained his composure before nodding to the men, "Now, these two fine gentlemen will escort you through the admissions process. Good day, and welcome to Black Watch, Miss Zilana."

                With that, the screen went blank for only a fraction of a second before it was replaced by a picture of a unicorn's head surrounded by the words, "God forgives, we do not."

                The screen fluidly retreated from just in front of Janus' face and revealed the hulking mass of robotics, hydraulics, and circuitry that made up this robotic sentinel. Janus could barely remember something about these machines as she noted the twin pairs of arms extending from what could only be described as the automatron's torso. The two arms on the bottom held heavy crushing pincers that looked as though they could snap bone easily, while the two arms above them were each fitted with a heavy plasma cannon. Quite the security implement Janus thought before wondering how she even knew what plasma cannons looked like. Her hands trembling in one another's grasp before she ushered towards the door at the far end of the hallway. The door sliding open without much prompt from either her or her guards, but beyond she was greeted by a red pointing laser being bored into her skull as she came into view of a hanging auto-turret. It was a simple defensive implement, but it had seen improvements, such as an extra set of barrels and apparently a very sophisticated friend-or-foe identification system.

                Janus blinked as her brain went blank once again, two instances where she knew far more than she should about a weapon, her eyes began to water as she was lead into the stark white room and pressed against a sterile white desk. Sitting in an office chair on the other side of this clean desk was a rather cleanly dressed man, not unlike the warden, but his white lab coat and immediate protest of the guard's rough treatment of her did not soldify any clues as to where he might have been raised or even who he was. Janus stood silently as the man stood up and introduced himself, his voice soft and rather melodic in tone, "Greetings, Miss Zilana, if you would please allow me, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Doctor Michael Hannec, I'm going to be seeing that you are well taken care of while you are here. Now, if you will follow me, we'll start with a body scan and basic immunizations."

                Janus had no other choice as she slowly stepped around the desk and followed the Doctor to a large tube-shaped vessel, before the doctor could even motion her inside, Janus stepped into the scanner and stood still as the doctor began the process. The machine beeped loudly, signalling that she was ready to exit, her body still shaking from the cold of the room, she could feel her body reacting her skin growing goosebumps, her bare nipples hardening, her lips growing dry, and the only comfort she had was the smile that Doctor Hannec flashed her as he went about his examination. As his questions pressed her about what she remembered, and with her unable to give any solid answer, Doctor Hannec shook his head slowly before turning back and looking at the screen which displayed her scan. Janus nervously glanced up at the scan then to the Doctor then back to the guards before daring herself to shiver. The movement had gone unnoticed, which allowed Janus a bit of a comforting notion as she sighed gently, but quickly snapped to attention, sucking in her breath as the Doctor turned back around and placed a rather thick leather collar about her neck.

                She wanted to struggle as the collar tightened about her throat, her hands and hips squirming against their binds as the leather dug against her larynx, but she quickly calmed as her eyes caught Doctor Hannec's soft blue irises. She stared into them, as though she had seen the ocean, as though she had just been offered a beautiful jewel, and she simply stared as the Doctor continued to fasten the collar before moving around to unfasten the shackles at her wrist and placed two small rods in the palms of her hands. The rods felt impossibly heavy for their size as the heft felt much like two large stones, but each rod only about the width of her palm. She eyed them curiously before the doctor pressed the tips of the small rods together then pulled them apart, a cascade of light seperating from one tip to the other and spreading out in the air like an ancient scroll of parchment being unrolled for the first time.

                "This, is a Nano-screen, it allows you to project thought and communicate verbally with people. Simply think what you want to say and it will appear on the screen as long as both rods are in your hands."

                As Doctor Hannec explained the basics of the Nano-screen, words began to flash across the blue-light surface. Janus began to smile as she watched the words flow onto the screen as she thought of them, and at that point, she only had one thought in front of the Doctor that she wanted to communicate.

"Your eyes are beautiful," Doctor Hannec read aloud what he saw on the Nano-screen, grinning as he slowly shook his head and patted the top of Janus' head before nodding to the guards, "she is all yours, ready to enter basic population."

                The guards stood up from where they had firmly seated themselves and crossed the room to where Janus stood, grabbing her wrist roughly, giving her only enough time to scrawl one last quick message to Doctor Hannec before the screen shut off, the words simply read, "Why am I here?"


Hopefully you enjoyed it, because I'm going to be posting the rest of it later, just so you guys can read it! It's terrible, I hate every sentence of it, but it was a good experience!

The Knight's End

Boy, oh boy, with all these final exams and books that I have to read, I think I might have given bit too big of a bite to chew. Anyways! Here's a... Well... I suppose you could call it a sonnet, I gave up on rhyme scheme halfway through because it sounded awesome. ANYWAYS! Enjoy, share, be excellent! Oh! And keep watching for my unfinished novel! 12,000 words over the course of a week and a half for NaNoWriMo, not half bad if I do say so myself.

In earnest the queen's knight galloped far and away,

Lance on leash as his body pushed against the wind,

Not on horse of course for that would be rude to say,

Hugging turns at neck-breaking speeds around the bend,

Night falls and out did come the vilest of fiends and beasts,

Hell's heart fluttered at the sight of a sharp drawn sword,

Our brave hero plunges out into the blood feasts,

As our brave hero charged against the devil's horde

The world shook with thundering anticipation,

The great winds howled with adoring adulation,

The demons screamed in endless dilapidation,

The hero's victory through decapitation,

The devil lay dead with stolen face on his skull,

As a hero's story never ends till his soul it did take,

Laughing evilly as the hero made his hole,

A deep grave for his sword in his chest he did make,

Pilgrims came, praising the knight who'd slain the evil,

But never did a single soul know that knight's sin,

Passage of time breaking through minds of the people,

Satan raised his horde and the knight was born again.

Ode to the Shitty Dryer on Floor 2

So, this is what you come up with at 2:00 am, while you are doing laundry, and you are mentally drained from writing serious NaNoWriMo stuff. Well, when I do finish my novel, I'll probably only post snippets of it here so as not to present a gigantic wall of text for people to read in one sitting... Maybe I'll split it up into chapters and post it over time... Meh, stuff to think about AFTER I finish it! Now, I give you my Ode to the Shitty Dryer on Floor 2! (Oh, I forgot to mention, I even printed this out and taped it to the dryer in question! Bwahahahaha!!)

Ode to the Shitty Dryer on Floor 2

Oh, this dryer is so chill,

It must be smoking pot,

It drives people to kill,

Because it NEVER gets hot,

Your clothes will smell sour,

And your undies will be wet,

Because even after an hour,

Dry, your laundry will not get,

"Come on! I've got to go to class!"

You say, but still you'll always know,

That this dryer belongs in the trash,

It really, really, REALLY needs to go,

So, if you want warm socks on this cold winter day,

Pick another dryer is honestly all I can say!

Alphabet Poem

So, obviously this is the first thing I've posted in... a very long time, well, I've been busy with school, so please forgive me. Here! Have a poem!

Angels are for praying, a confusing thing,

Beaches are for playing, single wooden wing,

Cars are for adventuring, into the night we go,

Dogs are for indenturing, joyful feelings in flow,

Ears are for listening, that thing we rarely do,

Feelings are for hurting, each one right on cue,

Gears are for turning, time ever coursing on,

Hearts are for moving, always here always gone,

Identities are for hiding, glasses to disguise,

Jetties are for jumping, from the Earth to the skies,

Kettles are for boiling, tea is sweet enough for me,

Lemons are for squeezing, holding that heart free,

Mimics are for copying, always mirrors and lakes,

Nobles are for curtsying, never to be called fakes,

Olives are for squishing, gnashing and smashing flat,

Pots are for gardening, seeds growing into fruits so fat,

Quarrels are for fighting, blood boiling into your nerves,

Roads are for travelling, taking he who always serves,

Satchels are for carrying, jewels in a pocket shine bright,

Truths are for saying, never doubt the moon while out at night,

Umbrellas are for shielding, one is good enough for two,

Villains are for hating, the best villain is a good man too,

Winds are for speaking, breezy messages tickling ears,

Xylographs are for reading, knife to wood messages or fears,

Yeuks are for pestering, those itching hands never find them,

Zeugmas are for describing, those tiny moments in life you do on a whim.

War Drums

So! I've been busy, but seeing as how I can't claim to be busy writing or doing much of anything else, I've decided that I needed to write down something that sparked from walking back to the dorm from lunch. Oddly enough, the Halo theme song sparked this short passage, so hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing! More to come!

                War drums, those damned things that thundered across the marching hills, taking each cresting rise just before the mighty army appeared at its peak. Each thundering crash of the war drums brought about the tumultuous clash of heartbeats as breath became heavy and almost too much to bear as the cold air stabbed at throat and mouth like daggers or the spear points that they saw grasped in the hands of their advancing enemy. Swords beat shields in time to the beats of the drum, all that heard it knew that one thing was true in this world: blood would soon be spilled. Theologies, ideologies, cosmology, chronology, and apology could be heard spouted from both sides of the battlefield. Each general inciting bravery in the hearts of their men, but only the ears took these words in as each man feared that their life would be cut short. In battle, one man may rely on another to be at his side, in war, an army may rely on another to be their comforting death. As the battalion of bashing boots came to a halt at the crest of the hills, the drums ceased their incessant beating as the world stood still, not even the wind dared to be the one to spark this bloodbath. This land that once held farmers, their sons, daughters, wives, grandchildren, great grandchildren, was now to become hell on earth. The paradise of demons and devils as they reached out to grip at souls that sought refuge. The only guardians over these brave men are the Valkyries. Those lady warriors who sought out the bravest, strongest, and most inspiring of heroes to uplift into the place of the Gods. The world trembled as the drums slowly began their cadence. No one was safe when the cries of a million dead men roared from both sides of the valley. They ran from their points, like cattle charging off a cliff in fear of a snake, they ran to one another, and then came the clash. Like Bahamut's impossible body crashing to the land, so came the smashing, gnashing, bashing of steel and hatred. Liken to the roar of a mythical beast unfathomable to hear the blood spilled and coated the land. As it did, so did the first demons burst from the ground and drag that soul to the depths of Tartarus, Hell, the Land of the Dead, that sickening place where worms make meals of flesh and bone, and from there came the screams. The Valkyries watched, they waited and they watched, knowing that the first to die in a battle will always go to the devils below, and they could do nothing for that poor soul. A million men die, half are for the demons, half are for the those winged maidens, and all are for the grave. The generals grow old, the survivors have children, and these children grow old enough to go to war. Ever is this cycle repeated, ever is this cycle eternal, ever is this cycle. It continues for decades, centuries, millenia, eons, til the day that peace rests upon an empty world. Still, even then, nature will bloom, flourish, and the war drums will sound again.

The Writer's Art

So, obviously I've been busy with school starting up again, but hopefully this simple sonnet will sate your thirsts for new "Words of Graue". It's been so long since my last post, I feel ashamed!! Not much else to say, well, aside from random thoughts... Hopefully I'll have enough time over this semester to actually post more chapters of Blade of Highleaf, that's too much fun to let die!

Enjoy the sonnet!

Inspiration, striking like lightning from cloudy skies,

Sundering fast the mind of the writer where he sits,

Engraving the urge, the need, the desire to defy,

That white paper's stark, clean skin, tainted with ink-y slits,

Taking his weapon, a quill with a point like a spear,

His hand trembling, like leaves caressed by the wind mistress,

Fingers clenched about the plume, itching for ink to smear,

Like a maiden waiting to dance, clutching at her dress,

The writer slashes and strokes, coating the world in words,

Beautifying the void of logical human minds,

A dance, a samba, a duel, a game, a song of birds,

Subtle seductions of the elements and their binds,

Letters, words, phrases, lines, paragraphs, pages, chapter,

Tools of the word smith, always, forever, and after.