Wyvern

I like this poem, word eyes. I find the uses of shadow imagery very evocative and original, and particularly like the notion of the shadow replacing the actual person. I also think that the ending of the poem is very effective in driving across the poems motifs, and I like how the poem naturally shifts into a second person perspective. On a minor side note, in case nobody has mentioned this over PM: please be sure to refer to the "One Thread a Day" Banquet Hall rule the next time you choose to post a large series of poems. Well done, once again.

Wyvern fidgets nervously in his seat, uncertain of how to handle the child that sits on his lap. The reptilian Elder glances towards Two and Peredhil, then bites his scaly lip and points at the upper right-hand corner of the application. "Errrr, right around there would be good." "Okie!" Sweet breaks out into a grin and begins scribbling over the application sheet. Two opens his mouth to protest, but holds his tongue as he watches the pen work it's magic. The scribblings begin to crawl over the sheet, coalescing at the upper right-hand corner and forming an exact replica of an acceptance stamp "ACCEPTED." Sweet lets out a triumphant giggle, then perks up when she hears Appy's voice calling from the hall. "Sorry gotta go see ya folks." Sweet jumps off of Wyvern's lap and dashes towards the Office door. She pauses in the hall outside when she notices the inky horse on his way out, and doodles a bit of hay before rushing off. "So." Two takes a hesitant step forward. "Have I finally been accepted?" Wyvern grins and lifts himself from his seat. He picks up Two's application and hands it to him, then pats him on the back. "Well Two, what does it look like?" "A-Accepted?" Tears begin swelling in Two's eyes. "Oh Wyvern, I-I don't know what to say. S-so I'm finally in?" Wyvern strikes a warm smile, revealing his razor sharp teeth. He pats a claw on Two's shoulder. "Abssssolutely not." Two nods to this, then pauses as the lizard's words register in his head. His face goes blank and his jaw drops open. "Wh-what do you mean?!" "Well, that'sss a forged 'ACCEPTED.' You'll only be accepted when the stamp is used." Wyvern hands Two a pair of Almost Dragonic Brand Y-Ray Goggles™, an Almost Dragonic Brand Squid Tentacle Ink Detector™, and a worn machete. "Better start looking for that stamp. G'luck." ;-p OOC: stamp issue continued at Two's request. ;p Wyvern has not noticed that the stamp is back in his desk yet.

CheerMynx raises a brow as she notices an all-too-familiar almost dragonic figure approaching her sign-up booth. Already nauseated by the thought of Madame Quixotic in a two piece suite, she attempts to hide her sign up board as the lizard gets closer. Wyvern arrives before Mynx manages to cover everything, and extends a claw. "Gimme the sign-up sheet, I want in." "Like, you want to be in the Beauty Pageant?" CheerMynx sighs and shakes her head, then hands Wyvern the sign up board. "I s'pose it can't be helped..." "And what'sss that supposed to mean?" Wyvern sticks his scaly snout up haughtily. "I'll have you know that I am almost a sex symbol. Only gold dragons are comparable, and they've got an unfair advantage." "Uhh huh." Mynx rolls her eyes. "Besides, I've brought along a little 'extra security' to make sure I win this thing." Wyvern sneers and raises a bag labeled "Cosmetics." A skull and cross bones is brandished beneath the label. "Placing first is gonna be my ticket to stardom on the auction block, just you wait and see. Plenty of gals out there will be mud wrestling to bid on me once I'm labeled 'Pen Beauty King.'" Wyvern scrawls his signature onto Mynx's board, then hands it back to her. She tucks it back into place and lets out a long sigh. "Like, y'know, you shouldn't count your almost dragolings before they hatch." "Easssiest title I'll ever win." Wyvern lets out a sinister cackle and winks. He then picks up his "Cosmetics" bag and turns to wait with the other contestants. "Watch and learn, Mynxy."

To give a quick update: "Any Given Moment" is preempted for a sports game this week and won't be airing. This concludes the programming of "Any Given Moment" this Summer. A big thank you goes out to all of the Pen people who listened in, as well as all of the guests that dropped by in June. "Any Given Moment" will (rather unfortunatly) be back in the Fall semester, starting in September, so stay tuned. I'll update this thread again a week before it's scheduled to come back on. Thanks again, E Lit-

I decided to rent and watch the two episode anime series "Puni Puni Poemi" this evening. This anime is directed by the same studio that did "Excel Saga," and boy does it show. Similarities arise in the extreme hyperactivity of the main character, the frequent appearences and interjections from the afro-sporting director Nabeshin (a personal fave), and plenty of anime spoofs. What surprised me about the anime was that it picked up right around where the final episode of "Excel Saga" left off, and seemed to hold much fewer bars, taking lots of risks with perverse humor and extreme violence throughout. I found it pretty hilarious and would recommend it to fans of "Excel Saga," but if you're looking for something more calm than that series you should avoid it. If anything, "Puni Puni Poemi" is more over-the-top and intense than "Excel Saga," despite only having two episodes. Edit: forgot to mention: while the original japanese still can't be beat, I thought the English dubbing used for this anime was very well done.

The fishing line extends from deep beneath the water, surfacing upon reaching the wall of the fishing booth. The white cord coils along the ground, passing the other fishing poles and gathered pennites. It coils past the Deep Sea Diving outfit rack, across the sandy beaches, around one of the legs of Rydia's hibachi stand, and across more beaches until it reaches the front door of the Mighty Pen Keep. From there, the cord continues it's path through the corridors of the Pen until it arrives at the Recruitment Office, at which point it slips through a crack in the door and finds it's finishing point at Wyvern's pole. "I tell ya, Bravery." Wyvern kicks his feet back onto his desktop and tips a pointless sun hat over his horns. "Fishing has never been so easssy. This Almost Dragonic Brand Debt Circumfrance Length Fishing Cable™ makes it a snap." "I dunno, Wyv." Bravery shakes his head, causing his fish bait trinkets to jingle. "I still say that fishing from the comfort of your Office takes all the fun out of it, though I must admit that your mission to stay dry has been a success so far. I still don't get why we have to dress up like fisherman when sitting in here, though-" "Listen, I already explained it to you, girls really go for this fishing stuff. Plus, it's close enough to Hawaiin to keep me-" Wyvern pauses as he feels a tug on his pole. Perking up and gripping the device with his claws, the lizard begins struggling with the reel. "Errrrrrrk. Help me out here, Bravery, looks like we caught a doozy!" Wyvern jumps up as he almost loses his grip. Bravery rushes to the pole and grabs it, only to have his eyes widen as he feels the pull at the other end. "Wow, it is strong." "Don't let go." Wyvern skids forward by the pull of the cord, almost stumbling across his desktop. "I bet if we pull this one in, Rydia will count it as three fish!" "It sure is strong, you sure about this Wyv?" "Sure? Am I sure? Repeat after me: 'Fifteen geld.'" The lizard pulls. "Fifteen geld!" Wyvern and Bravery continue to pull in short intervals to the sound of Wyvern's chanted mantra, but soon become exhausted. They are about to give up when suddenly, the line begins moving towards them with the greatest of ease. "We got it now, Brav'ry." Wyvern grits his teeth. "Fifteen geld. Fifteen gel-" "What is the meaning of this?!" Wyvern and Bravery both stare in shock and horror as Melba barges into the Recruiter's Office in a swimsuite, the hook of the line attached to the front of the suite. The two "fishermen" shut their eyes at the horrendous sight. "Oy, I should've known it was you!" Melba glares angrily, then reaches into her bosom and pulls out an enormous Super Soaker 10,000 Professional Firefighter Edition™. The enraged Almost Secretary hoses down Wyvern and his dwarven assistant, then unhooks the line from her swimsuite and storms out of the Office. "Well." Bravery sits in a puddle, massaging his eyes. "So much for dry, eh Wyv?" *gurgle*

Wyvern skids into the Recruiter's Office, barging through the Office door and straight past Two. The reptilian Elder flails about and curses to himself, numerous papers clenched in each of his claws and several documents sticking from between his teeth. The papers attached to his horns and his stinger flutter as the lizard lets out an exasperated sigh. "What a day." Wyvern lets the paperwork fall from his maw. "Inbetween trying to find the culprit for this office mess, trying to find a stick figure kind enough to adopt this horse drawing, and trying to scheme a way to hop into the Carnival Beauty Pageant, I've forgotten to try and make money. Nothing I hate more than a day where I haven't tried to make money, what a glum-" The lizard pauses and perks up as he notices a new clock resting where the grandfather clock used to be. The reptilian Elder's tense expression of dismay softens as he approaches the freestanding oyster perpetual Rolodex contraption. "Ssssaaaaay." Wyvern breaks out into a toothy grin. "Seems Ozymandias finally went through with the clock request. Not a bad clock, either." Wyvern examines the new clock for a moment, then plucks off the sheet of paper attached to it and reads over it. "Hmmmmm." Wyvern folds the poem once he's finished with it. "Very interesting indeed... a clock that writes poetry! Sure beats a door that complains all the time." "Ummm." Two raises himself from his seat at the corner of the Office. "Well, actually-" "What was that you said?" The deep grainy voice of Woody booms, interrupting Two. "Don't turn my knob, Wyv. It's already been turned as far as it can go!" "Oh yeah, well get this." Wyvern unfolds the poem. "This clock describes a girl in the poem, not to mention a number of jobs like farming and lifeguarding." "Uhhh, Mr. Wyvern." Two raises a finger. "That's actually-" "I've been there." shouts Woody. "You should've seen the cowboy ballads I wrote working as a saloon door. Lemme tell you, I've shed more than a few splinters in my day." "Would you be quiet?" Wyvern examines the time frame of the clock more closely. "Hey, the six on the time frame reads as a buncha smaller 666s, what an adorable little feature. I hereby name this clock 'Tock.' Sssay, I wonder why the hour hand is stuck on two." "Mr. Wyvern." Two stomps his foot once on the ground to get the lizard's attention. "That poem is actually mine, as is the gift of that clock." "Ahhhh, I see." Wyvern grins and approaches Two, then firmly shakes his hand. "So, applying to join eh? Well, this poem is certainly acceptable material, and the material gift of the clock definitely solidifies the stance of acceptance, but I'm afraid there's a ssslight dilemma." Two frowns. "A dilemma?" "Yes, a dilemma." Wyvern rubs his scaly temple and scowls. The lizard then collapses back into his favourite chair, forgetting that it's thoroughly stained with paint. "You see, my Office was vandalized a little while ago and my acceptance stamp went missing. Without it, I can't officially accept anyone into the Pen, so I'm afraid you may have to wait until we find the culprit. As soon as the stamp turns up, you can consider yourself accepted." With that, Wyvern grumbles and goes through his paperwork, searching for the list of potential thiefs in a mess of schemes and overlooked bills.

I think that this is a very good poem, Quincunx. I really like the rhyme scheme and structure of the piece, and think that the repetition and consistant meter give it an hypnotic quality. The imagery centered around eyes and winking is very good, as are the references to prayers and idols. I also found the punctuation of the poem very interesting, and liked how it was closed with a repetition of the final lines of the stanzas. The phrase "which nobody will prize" in the second stanza struck me as less relevent than the other references in the piece. Rhyme-wise it works very well, but it somehow strikes me as a less ambitious statement than the other lines. Great stuff.

I thought this was a pretty nice vignette, Xaious. The religious approach to observing the weather was interesting, and the style of writing reminded me of romantic prose in a way. I noticed that the tone and language of the piece seem to become more biblical and archaic as the piece progressed, which I found quite interesting. In terms of potential things to improve: I long to get a sense of the sound of the "soft" and "innocent" music that the narrator hears. I heard the tapping of the rain that interrupted the music, but never got a sense of what kind of sound filled the narrator with such passion. Similarly, I'd love to see more details of the angel's appearence, though she was much better described than the music. Nice piece, overall.

Wyvern strides into the room just as Justin Silverblade opens his first letter. The lizard pauses and hesitates, twelve new letters crumpled in each of his claws. "Welcome back, Justin Ssssilverblade." Wyvern sneers in Justin's direction. "Bills? Why nonsense, don't worry about it. By the way, here's the new bill for bedding, the new bill for room cleaning, the new bill for renting an Almost Dragonic Brand Certified Space™, the new bill for snoring barricades, the new bill for dream manipulation, the new bill for ecstasy portrait painting, the new bill for tossing and turning in an Almost Dragonic Brand No Tossing and Turning Zone™, the new bill for recording the mumbled poems heard in your sleep, the new bill for twelve thousand Almost Dragonic Brand Single Pointy Feather Pillows™, the new bill for documenting your sleeping habits, the new bill for documenting the sleeping habits of the Almost Dragonic Brand Documentors™ documenting your sleeping habits, the new bill for bribing Wyvern from stealing any of your possessions, a new bill from the collective ladies of the Pen for your absence, another new bill for mending their broken hearts, the new bill for the beautician who kept up your appearence during your slumber, the new bill from the toothfairy for not leaving her a significant donation, the new bill for anti-nightmare wards, the new bill for keeping the Dreamer off your tail, the new bill for the amount of paper used to document these bills, the new bill for your Almost Dragonic Documentors™ tossing and turning in an Almost Dragonic Brand No Tossing and Turning Zone™, the new hefty bill for peace and quiet on an Almost Dragonic Brand Certified Space™, the new bill for sleepwalking security guards twenty-four seven, the new bill for not answering the old bills in a timely manner, and a new platypus bill." With that, Wyvern bows and shakes Justin Silverblade's now-palid hand. "Once again, great to see you awake Jussstin." Justin Silverblade stammers in one place as he watches Wyvern dash out of the room. The drowsy hero's jaw drops when he hears the lizard's words faintly from the hall: "I'll be back with the next bunch. Remember, those old one's are collecting interest." ;-p OOC: Welcome back, Justin.

I love “you” but most words revolve around “me.” “you” I use to reflect my pride, my conceit. My version of “you” is a possessive “me;” it makes “you” mine. “I love you, love you good.” Bright make-up and rosy gloss, her lip reflections bring the words to life. With neon stockings, she sways her hips, and fingers thighs through trapeze touches. In street spotlights of circus mascara her eyelashes tame lion wills like whips. A playful bodice with plastic pearls: dull, meaningless as tattooed privacy. Her worn, synthetic smile presents... The Greatest Show on Earth, in broken English. “I love you” If the Hallmark card could squeak the line within its cardboard heart, its sweetened breath would surely reek of perfumed words that stand apart. A part of business, a part of “art,” an art that cardboard-hearted seek. A comic pic: a hollow lark to overcome the bleak. “I love you.” The doll’s voice is flat. She squeezes again. A lifeless drone: “My name's Sue, what's yours?” Her mother calls her "Failure." She squeezes again. A static tone: “Let's play a game.” Hide and stay hidden. She squeezes again. A hollow moan: "Don't leave me or I'll cry." The doll's tears are Failures. So she squeezes again, and plays alone until the doll's battery dies. "I love you, anyone else would have killed you by now. Pathetic, how dependent you are. Just always remember you're worthless, I'm the one that cleans your disgusting messes. You're disgraceful, you'll never amount to anything. If it wasn't for me, you'd be helpless, nobody wants a useless idiot like you. That's why you're my special little burden." “I love you.” Desolé, je ne comprend pas. Desculpe, eu não compreendo Spiacente, non capisco. Sajnálom, de nem értem. Saya tidak faham. Spijtig, ik begrijp het niet. Sugaliavam, no az ne razbiram bulgarski Anteeksi, en ymmärrä. Apesadumbrado, no entiendo. Entschuldigung, Ich verstehe nicht. Tyvärr, jag förstår inte. Огорченно, я не понимаю. 残念、私は理解しない Sorry, I don't understand.

So, the much-advertised "Angster Rap" episode of "Any Given Moment" finally went off without a hitch last night. Happybuddha actually managed to show up to cohost the show, and it went very well. Plenty of heavy rock-oriented hip hop tracks were played, plenty of Pen shout outs were given, and a bit of impromptu roleplaying took place during interludes as well. ;-) We even finished the episode up by playing a recent Nine Inch Nails track. I managed to record most of the show to minidisc, but don't have any equipment/idea on how to convert the music from minidisc to MP3 or CD. If anyone on the Pen knows how to use minidiscs and is willing to take a shot at converting one to MP3, I'll gladly send it to you. Otherwise, I'll try to get the production department at WRGW to do it at some point in the Fall semester. July 8th will be the last airing of "Any Given Moment" during the Summer, and I'm still considering which theme to do for it. There's always a chance that it'll get cancelled, but I'm hoping that sports games have been wrapped up for the Summer. I'll update this thread later in the week with more info on the show. Thanks for the support!

YanYan, I just wanted to say that I''m enjoying your new story, so far. :-) I find the setting that you chose for it very interesting, and really like the horrific slant that you're approaching the story from. I particularly like a number of the details you've used in describing the strange frog creatures that attack the ship, as their powerful sea water stenches and gruesome appearences both give a sense of fear to the narrative. I also really liked the way that you portrayed the initial confusion of the crew members when faced with the ambush, as I thought it gave the reader a sense of the crew's perspective and terror. In terms of potential things that might be improved: there were some sentences which I felt were a bit overburdened with dependent clauses. Sentences such as "The calming splash of waves as they rolled against the German U-boat, gently rocking it with each clash with the bow, was overpowered by the roar of flames on the surface of the Atlantic, two hundred miles East of Portland, Maine." and "Simply known as 'Doctor Simon", the willowy man with thin blond hair and fair complexion dressed on the attire of a professor; tweed vest and jacket complimented with dark dress slacks looked over a map of the Atlantic Ocean just off the Maine coast that was wieghed down on each corner with a small rock" are examples of this. I think that these sentences could be made easier to read if they were split up into a few sentences, as I find them a bit overwhelming as they stand. I've also been frequently guilty of overdoing it with the dependent clauses, and definitely sympathize with this issue. Also, I don't think that the translation of the frog man in the first post from "croaks and gurgles" to English works well, as the posts seem to be told from the crew's perspective and they wouldn't understand it. I think it would be better if they were left at incomprehensible croaks, as their intent is later implied to the reader anyway. Very nicely done so far, I look forward to the continuation.

"Any Given Moment" - "Angster Rap" advertisement, take three. This show has been voted "most delayed radio theme in the entire history of the world ever" by emo kids who don't even care about angsty punk rock music. It's time to experience the sounds of Angster Rap, to bust your ear drums over blaring distorted guitar riffs, and to see E. Literate's blazin new haircut over webcam. No, the haircut is not ideal for headbanging, and yes, he does refer to himself in third person at times. Happybuddha will not be available for the show as he's busy doing time in the state penitentiary for those bar brawls that he got into last week. Don't worry, he's started an illegal smuggling ring there and is still keeping it Angster to the core, even when facing other prison mates. Non-Pen affiliate D.J Debit Card may be dropping by to purchase guitars to smash things with, mainly the webcams if anyone starts making fun of E. Literate's haircut. We're also giving away free angst to callers, so be sure to call in at (202) 994-9749 to talk about rock music so we can scream at you. Thanks, and have a nice day. "Any Given Moment" - "Angster Rap" Friday, July 1rst 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM EDT http://www.gwradio.com Call-in: (202) 994-9749 AIM: RGWradio

I like this poem, Ozymandias. :-) I think that your uses of curt phrasing and repetition help in driving across the mood set by the title, and I like the concept of not knowing how to return the letters. The freeverse also read fluidly to me, and it was an easy piece to absorb. The one stanza that I didn't like in this poem was the fourth stanza, where the narrator's belly is personified. I felt that this stanza broke the tone that was set throughout the rest of the piece, as the reference to the belly seemed trivial when compared to the rest of the struggles in the poem. Nicely done, overall. :-)

Katz, To answer your questions and concerns, I think it's certainly possible to relay Ra'laerin's character through his thoughts. I guess that my current problem with the post is that I find a number of his thoughts overexplained. For example: the sentence "He cannot afford to let the other vampire live and plot" seems like a narrator's explanation of Ra'laerin's intentions rather than what he's actually thinking. Perhaps if you rephrased it in a manner that drew the reader more into his thoughts it would work better, like maybe "[insert vampire's name here] remained a nuisance. His death was still a priority." just as a potential example. The phrase "The report is the most boring part of his day" is another example of this, as I can't see Ra'laerin thinking or feeling "Well, this is the most boring part of my day." If you showed the reader how it was boring to him through his thoughts or feelings, it might be relayed better. There are also points in the post where I feel like things are explained where they could be implied to the reader. For example, when it's noted "The newly-crowned Treme prince surveys his Throne Room as he lets the words sink in.", I feel like the segment "as he lets the words sink in" is already implied through his silence. Similarly, when it's noted that "Ra'laerin moves now to leave," I feel that noting his intentions is unnecessary, as it's implied that he's leaving when he moves to the door. Another new concern that arises for me is that in reading the post, I very much got the sense that Ra'laerin was more or less selfish and evil. He takes satisfaction in watching his men struggle and scramble up, he considers emotional approaches matters of politics, and his only concern for his support group is connected to his need of them for killing his enemy. He seems like a very cold and calculating individual. The only hint of goodness I got from him was in his thoughts on Gorant, and even those were connected to his own pride. You may want to have him express some worry for his troops or some symathy if you want him not to come off as a bad guy. Anyway, I hope this explanation helps. :-) Like I said, it's sort of difficult to determine this early in the story, and I hesitated in writing anything else as I wanted to see the story develope more first. Apologies for the extremely late reply.

The Portrait of Zool hangs still on his wall in the Cabaret Room, focussing his attention on the opposite wall in all of its blank glory. Grimmael pokes at Zool's frame with a semi-clean tissue, wiping off what appear to be ink hoof-prints and occasionally scratching for lice. "Hey, hey!" cries Zool as Grimmael touches his portrait with the tissue. "Careful with that thing, you mix the shades and I might have to draw a whole new wardrobe." Grimmael nods with a tilt, then turns as the door to the Cabaret Room slowly creaks opens. Wyvern creeps into the room and strikes a toothy grin upon spotting Zool's portrait. The lizard keeps something hidden behind his back as he approaches Zool with long, almost dragonic strides. "What do you want?" Zool gazes at Wyvern skeptically. "Grimmael, is that a gourmet dumpster?" Wyvern points, causing Grimmael to turn. The lizard quickly tosses a white sheet over Zool's Portrait. "Hey! What th-" Zool remains in darkness as loud disco music begins filling the Cabaret Room. From the bottom of the sheet, he notices hues of rainbow coloured lights. After a long moment of waiting, the sheet is pulled off of his frame in a flash of light. Zool's eyes widen at the sight before him. Disco lights, tacky museum custodians dancing with platform shoes, and three portraits on the opposite wall covered with white sheets. "Greetings Zool!" shouts a museum clerk into a defective Almost Dragonic Brand Microphone™. "And welcome to 'Paint Ain't Quaint,' a reality dating show to celebrate a certain painting's birthday." "Say what?!" Zool raises a brow, lost somewhere between confusion and inaudibility. "Which will it be, Zool?" The museum clerk turns to the first covered painting. "Is it our first painting, that elegent beauty amongst beauties, Leonardo DaVinci's very own... Mona Lisa?" The first white sheet is unveiled to reveal the famous portrait of Mona Lisa. Her ever-watchful stare falters for a moment as she winks at Zool. "Or will it be our second painting? That ravishing temptress, that sing-sung sex icon, Andy Warhol's very own... Marilyn Monroe?" The second portrait is unveiled, revealing a colorful portrait of Marilyn Monroe. Her version of "Happy Birthday" begins cuing up in the background. "Or is it our third contestent? That, errr, simple and charming gal, so easy on the eyes, Wyvern Q AlmostDragon's very own... Stick Figure Queen?" The white sheet is removed, revealing an extremely simple stick figure drawing. The phrase "sory, this won came cheep" is scrawled underneath it. Zool grunts to himself. "Now that's what I call flat." ;-p OOC: Happy Birthday, Zool! Try n hide it all you want... ;-)

Good poem, Happybuddha. :-) I really like the mood and tone that the piece sets, and think that the industrial street violence imagery works well. I found the original and evocative details that you incorporated throughout it excellent, particularly the "serpent hiss of bus brakes" and the "car spangled streets." The phrase "unmasking looming streets beyond" feels a bit more "highbrow" to me then the rest of the poem, and you might consider rephrasing it to fit the more "Down to Earth" tone of the rest of the piece. Other than that, I'd really like to see more poetry at some point. ;-p P.S: would you like the topic title changed to "alone"?

Nice narrative poem, Thinas. :-) The story told through it is an interesting one, and I liked how the tone of the poem became slightly more optimistic in the second part. In terms of what I understood it to mean, the story of the poem read to me as a metaphor for how good will be martyred in order to triumph over evil, despite being overcome by it. One potential title for this poem could be "Jinn," since the story it tells is centered around her. In terms of potential improvements: while I found the rhyme schemes of the poem well done for the most part, the syllable count struck me as a bit awkward at times. I think that Jareena Faye's remark on the discrepancy between the first and second stanzas may be related to this. The ABAB CDCD rhyme scheme is very consistant throughout the poem, but due to differing syllable counts the stanzas sound very different in rhythm, and I found the transitions from one rhythm to another distracting at times. You might consider strengthening the structure of the poem further by adding a syllable pattern of some sort, though that's entirely up to you and your intentions with the poem. :-) I also found the "pierce-fierce" rhyme in the eleventh stanza a bit awkward, as I thought it had a very different stress and sound than the other rhymes of the poem. Nicely done overall. Thanks for sharing this, it's always great to see your writing.

I found this a very interesting poem, Guest1. :-) I really like a number of the original and evocative details that you incorporated throughout it. I also think that the structure centered around Crumble's life worked well, and I really liked the endings of each of the stanzas. The entire poem is nicely worded and phrased. One thing that I was uncertain about in this poem was the role of the lizard. I picked up on Crumble's arrogance and marital problems in the first two parts, but was not sure what the unthinking lizard was meant to signify in the third part. Very good poem, overall.

Interesting... I also really liked this poem and found the free verse well-phrased, but got something slightly different out of it than Sweetcherrie did. While the poem struck me as very positive and upbeat for the most part, the last line of the piece had a very different resonance to me. "Anticipation, until she's through" read to me as "Anticipation never fufilled," and seemed to crush the hopes that were set throughout the rest of the poem. Uncertain if this was intended... if not, you might want to consider rewording that line. Nicely done.

I really like the start of this story, Katzaniel. :-) I like how you start the story with Spik waking up from a long night of partying, as it immediately sets a humorous tone for his character. I also really like the notion that Spik must save the lives of those who are going to save the world, as I found that an original thing to be destined to do. :-) Nathan's character also seems quite interesting from what little we've seen of him, though his incessant uses of "Gee whiz" make me question which era the story is set in. I like what's been written so far, including the first post, though I do agree with Sweetcherrie that there are points where a lot of information is relayed. The paragraph describing Spik's parents and history, for example, struck me as a bit of a summary, and you might want to gradually relay those details over the course of the narrative rather than summing them up in the first post. Looking forward to seeing how this story developes. :-)

I saw the film "The Ladykillers" this evening on DVD. This movie is the latest comedy from the Coen Brothers, who have directed such excellent films as "O Brother Where Art Thou" and "Fargo." Once again, I must say that I wasn't disappointed. The film details a gang of diverse characters living in the rural South, led by Tom Hanks playing the part of a suave Southern gentlemen/criminal. They collaborate in trying to rob a casino ship by digging a tunnel through the cellar of an old lady's house. Hilarious culture clashes abound in the distinct characters, who range from a mountain ranger to a dumb football jock. Race issues are frequently touched upon in a manner similar to "O Brother Where Art Thou," and the acting is very good for the most part. My only complaint would be the toilet humor involved in the mountaineers bowel movements. Overall, very well done.

Mohawk-sporting death metal dudes and lighter-rocking leather goth chicks, I would add "please" before saying "tune into 'Any Given Moment' this Friday (6/24/05), 8:00 PM - 10:00 PM EDT," but I don't think it's part of this show's vocabulary. I'm going to be keeping it "Angster" this evening, after all. That means plenty of Trent Reznor facial expressions and terms like "headbang," "mosh" and "girlfriend" (rock music's all about the breakup songs, right?). Happybuddha will unfortunately be absent from this episode, as he'll be too busy drinking hard liquor and getting into trendy bar brawls to attend. I guess solo is more grunged out anyway, but I highly recommend people to call in so I can actually pretend that I know what I'm talking about when it comes to rock music. That's (202) 994-9749. Heck, recommend me some recent rock and they might even have it in the station shelves. I'll probably post something shortly before the show starts, just because I'm so anti-establishment that it hurts. This is the part of the post where I would say "thanks." Instead, I will end it with a "Get Yo Punk @$$ Up!" Sincerely, E. Literate EDIT: Unfortunately, it seems that I've just gotten a late notice that my show's been preempted this week for a Baysox sports game, so forget about the add you just read above. >_

"Neigh-hey-heh-heh!" Lord Panther and the ladies surrounding him turn in the direction of the sound. Zool raises a brow to Picasso-esque distortions as he notices the image of a crudely drawn horse on the wall opposite of his portrait. The horse creaks in awkward movements with its poorly drawn limbs, wagging its stick figure tail. "Neigh-heh-heh and I'm the horse that got doodled here recently." The horse raises it's head in the direction of Zool's canvas. "Say-hey-heh-heh, that looks like some nice grass over there. Mind if I graze? I only make ink blots sometimes." "Grimmael!" cries Zool as the monstrosity of a horse begins advancing across the wall, leaving ink blots everywhere it goes. "The paint thinner! Quick, bring the paint thinner!" Lord Panther and the others that have gathered observe this spectacle for a moment, then turn as the Office door opens of its own accord. "Hi, I'm Woody." The door speaks in a grainy voice. "Temporarily working in this Office, but if you ever need a high-class door for working your nightclub, just call me. I'm trying to get to WOODSTOCK!" With that, the door begins opening and slamming shut several times while hooting loudly. Lord Panther's concentration is broken from the spectacle as the Office broom closet bursts open and a large woman jumps out of it. She points a rifle with a broom's end attached to it in Panther's direction. "Oh. Hi, sorry, I thought you were that criminal Wyvern. Melba the Almost Secretary, pleased to meet you." Melba glares in the direction of Woody. "What did I tell you about the warning signals?! Oy vey, and what happened to this Office?! It's in an even bigger mess than I remember it being." Those that have gathered in the Office suddenly go quiet as a conversation is heard in the hall outside. "Hmmm, cheaply fabricated you say...?" "Yesss. You see, Alfred, Cute Innocent Kittens are really rather easy to catch." Woody the door creaks open, and Wyvern enters with a well-dressed gentlemen in a mynx overcoat and a racoon hat. "Yes, I have gotten so tired of those hideous kitt- what is the meaning of this?!" "This? Oh, this isss my-" Wyvern notices Lord Panther, Mynx, and Tanuchan gathered in the Office, along with a crudely drawn horse on the wall that appears to be tugging at a rubber chicken. "Errr, Office." "After all that talk of making coats." Alfred takes a step back and points. "Large cats- a sabotage?!" "No no!" Wyvern lunges for a bag in the corner of the Office and begins emptying it's contents over those who have gathered. The prosthetic limbs run out after completely covering Tanuchan, however. "There's nothing to see here. Nothing to see!" "Nothing indeed!" Alfred points in the direction of Melba. "Even without the cats, how do you explain that whale over there, hmmm? I'm leaving." "Wait, Alfred!" Wyvern rushes over to the area where his failed air restaurant lies. "This is all a misunderstanding, we should still do business. Look, at least let me offer you a free vial of imported air before you go." Wyvern catches Alfred at the Office door, and hands him a vial. Alfred examines it for a moment, then scowls in a horrified manner. "Imported from Los Angeles? First sabotage, and now poison! Wyvern, you know no lows!" Wyvern slumps over and grumbles as Alfred storms out of the Office. Turning to Lord Panther, the lizard nods and glumly heads over to his desktop. Finding it in complete dissaray with ink spilled on his favorite chair and his acceptance stamp gone missing, the lizard begins banging his head over his desktop in frustration. Fortunately, the ACCEPTED that had been previously stamped on the lizard's forehead comes off and fades onto Lord Panther's application. ;-p OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Lord Panther. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! I hope that you find this a welcoming community, and will look forward to reading more of your stuff and participating with you in community projects. Welcome, once again.