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crazy_atheist
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Name: Annie
Gender: Female
Interests: Yay for making my site look pretty even though technology hates me! Actually, I was disapointed in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, 'cause I thought it was a little boring (no one kill me plz) but I loved that quote.
My interests...a doubt anyone cares so I'm not going to waste my time writing it out.
Occupation: Government
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/2/2006
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| AuditionsCall backs for the Importance of Being Ernest were today and having sat through two days of complete panic in the theater departement, this poem is my way of forgeting it. I have a lot of respect for everyone who auditioned, but for everyone's peace of mind, I'm glad they don't happen that often.
I hope I get in
I hope I get in
Oh I really hope I get in.
Whispers fill the hall,
Thousands of voices
Working in concert.
Prayers to Dionysus, to their mothers, to their friends.
Please god let me get in.
They pace in circles,
Overlapping but never interrupting.
Each lost in their own private world.
He is talking to an old teacher,
Her to her former boyfriend.
They catch eyes.
She smiles shakily.
“Break a leg.”
The stage is pitch black,
The supplicants line up on its edge.
Their whispering never stops
Even here their pleading is not done.
They begin.
A trembling girl steps forward.
She says her speech,
Her eyes fixed above the balding head.
HE is staring at her,
And now HE is writing.
Her eyes waver to the pencil and she stutters.
HE looks at her.
She is frozen in the limelight.
An eternity passes in absolute silence.
There is reverence behind her,
Remembrance of when they too broke the rule.
One must never look at HIM. | | |
| Prayers from the forgotten
Kay, I'm not quite sure what to make of this post. I don't really like it, but I haven't posted something in forever so this will do. I didn't really have anything in mind when I started writing and it turned out kind of strange...
The rain
pattered down gently on the steps of an old church. It draped the church and
surrounding buildings with a soft grey curtain, hiding the boarded up windows
and broken beer bottles. A girl kneeled on the steps of the decrepit church,
half hidden by a tall grey pillar. Her blue eyes were focused on a figure no
more than three feet away from her. She studied the boy with unblinking
attention through the black curls that spilled over her face. She followed the waves
of his red hair as it grew darker and darker in the rain. She mentally traced
his profile, the jutting eyebrows and too large nose, with a pointy chin and a
skinny neck. He bent his head lower, and she memorized the shape of the boy’s
back as he knelt towards the church. His lips moved in silent prayer and hers
moved with him. Finally, the boy stood up to leave. He turned towards her and
his gaze seemed to draw her out. Slowly the girl rose and stood before the boy,
arms held out in welcome. He frowned and rubbed his eyes but did not turn away.
She smiled, revealing perfect pearls, and advanced slowly, placing her hand on
his heart. They both glowed briefly at the touch and then it faded. The girl
stepped back, placing both hands on her own heart. ”Thank you.” She said. He
frowned and shook his head as if to clear it. She watched his back as it disappeared
into the rain and finally entirely as he rounded the corner. She hated to see
him go, but she knew he would be back. In the mean time, she had his prayer. The
girl sighed and returned to her vigil. The prayer she put in a locket around
her neck; proof to her son that somone still visited this decrepit old church.
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| The first humanI just read a creation story by my friend Bri and thought it would be fun to do one...It turned out a little strange.
Bobby was playing with paints again. Marie was supposed to be babysitting him but she was busy talking on the phone. No one ever paid attention to Robby. All they did was coo at him and talk in funny talk that made no sense. Bobby was tired of it. And he was tired of sitting still too. Bobby looked back at his picture. It looked like a brown smudge with a hat on top. He sighed. Bobby would never get it right. And now he had run out of paper. He sighed and looked around. Mommy had said not to draw on the floor. And Daddy told him no furniture. But then, Bobby saw what he could draw on! Bobby inched over to Daddy's big wooden ball and pushed it over to his paints. Bobby was excited. This was fun. He took his blue paints and painted in big blotches. These were called oceans, he decided. He liked that word. The green splotches would be continents. Bobby giggled and added big yellow splotches too. Deserts. Bobby dipped his brush in the white and smeared it over the green. Ice. He thought to himself happily. Then he leaned back to look at his creation. It needed more color. He dipped his fingers in colors and sprinkled them on the green, making flowers and trees, and forests. Bobby giggled louder and clapped his hands. But he was missing something. Bobby crawled over to his craft box. He dove in and clutched at the clay. The box fell over but he didn't care. Marie wouldn't even notice. Bobby toddled back to his globe and stuck little pieces of clay onto it. Animals. He thought decidedly, shoving clay together to make different shapes. Bobby sat there for a minute to stare at his work. Then he turned and waved good bye to Marie. Marie didn't look. Bobby grinned and stepped into the earth. | | |
| Purchased TimeShe smiled and held up her face to welcome the dawn. It peeked itself furtively out from beneath the water and then, sure of its audience commenced its arrival. Arrogantly, the sun sent colors out before it, to announce the beginning and then the march began. As it emerged, a full orchestra of colors played, spreading out to envelope the whole skyline and the faithful attendees who watched in appreciation. The arrival reached a climax as the entire sky showed blood red and majestic purple; then a slow finale with rose pink and violet. Its entrance finished, the orchestra died down until the sun was left, to walk the long path of day alone. It settled grimly to its task, with the memory of the sending off to sustain him and the promise of a beautiful welcome to encourage him. Ashley smiled and leaned back in the still cool sand, at peace with herself and the world. The loud beep of an alarm clock shattered her euphoria. She groaned and turned towards her right where a person was materializing out of the sand. He was a young man dressed in a suit and business tie who was at the moment busy with getting the sand out of the creases of his well ironed shirt. He straitened when he saw her and put on a pleasant smile. "Good morning Ashley," He said in a brisk tone. "Your allotted lounging time has just ended. Work will begin in five minutes unless you care to purchase more time." Ashley sighed and felt for her purse. It was such a beautiful morning. Just this once she decided she would enjoy herself. Her questing hand closed on a ten dollar bill and she pulled it out offering it to the man.
"One more hour please." He nodded, depositing the money in a side pocket.
"Thank you, your clock will now show your purchased time. Good day, and have a pleasant lounging hour." He gave her a brisk nod and turned, faded away into the air. Ashley yawned and reached out her face to feel the warming sun. It would be a well spent hour.
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| Train RidesHe sat on the train watching her through the dirty window pane. The train had just screeched up to the station, sending her red hair into disarray. She would get on this bus. He knew this as he knew himself yet had no idea why. He watched as she self-consciously smoothed her frizzy wind-swept hair and stepped onto the train. Into his compartment even. She took a seat towards the front of the bus, settling into the plastic yellow seats like a satisfied cat. After a minute a battered book appeared and her face was lost in its story.
He continued to watch her with a single minded intensity that left him regardless of the bustle surrounding him. His stop flashed by and he didn't move; a boy played his music loudly behind him and he didn't even twitch. The conductor announced the next stop in his impenetrable Brooklyn drawl, but the girl must have understood for the book disappeared reluctantly and she stood up. Again smoothing her hair and checking her outfit for disarray or disobedience. She walked towards him as the train ground to a stop. He froze, locking into her walk and her very air. He knew he wouldn't follow her, he never did. She smiled at him absentmindedly when she caught his gaze then glanced away towards the opening doors. She hurried towards them and stepped out into the bustling city. He watched her red hair until it was obscured by the crowd, feeling strangely saddened about her disappearance and his unwillingness to follow. He would never see her again; strangers didn't meet in a city of millions.
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