Can't You See the Shapes

I can see the shapes
But my hands can't form them right

They're trapped in my mind

Why can’t I see the light?

Dancing and soaring

I forget what's around me

Electric body

Won’t you do what I do?

Come sit in the shade

Let the arid world fly by

Luscious, dark gray shade

Take my hand, come and fly

Can’t you see the shapes

Our fingers form them right

Trapped in our minds

Can’t you see the bright light?

~a poem by Gemaine~

~based on a series of haikus by Hannah~

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Ostrich short story

She holds her elegant neck high above the masses which she saunters through. Like a diva at a show she flaunts her plumes, casts a wary eye about for rivals, and turns up her nose at her drab brown and cream comrades. Behold, an animal of distinction and refinement. Here is the ostrich, queen of the winged kingdom. Around her, antelope bow their heads in shame, cringing at their inferiority. Where she steps the grass seems to wither in embarrassment. Even the sun seems reluctant to disgrace her chestnut and ivory feathers. Stop. Look around. Sour musk lines the brisk breeze. She lowers the foot which was held aloft a moment ago, her previously serene expression now one of incandescent disapproval. The antelope prick up their ears. A glimpse of golden pelt in the grass and an explosion of hooves signifies the beginning of the chase. She runs like a demon, head pointed forward and wings outstretched. Long legs kick up turf, spraying it into the streak of gold fur b...

Strange One

An unsteady little fox kit blinked, opening her eyes she wobbled after her siblings. Taking her first steps outside the den, watching the others do the same. Their brown-black eyes gleamed in the light. Most of the other fox kits were playing, a tangled mess of dark brown fur and legs as they tumbled, chasing each other around mossy rocks and through short green grass. Some of the older foxes were lounging, gathered around a small circle of rocks. The fox kit stumbled over, her legs still not quite used to the rough ground. The circle smelled fresh, soaked in the scent of damp earth; something clear and silvery-blue filled the hole in the ground. She leaned towards it, trying to get a better look, paws scrambling for purchase on the smooth slippery stones. With no success, her paws slipped, sending her tumbling down into the pool of clear liquid. It was only water. But she didn't know that then. She landed with a splash, the liquid soaking her coat and making her shiver. S...

Thinking Up Ideas for Writing

I admit it. I am the sort of person who uses the situation they are in to help them think up a solution. I was trying to think up an idea for what to write about in my first blog… so I ended up resolving my problem by writing about thinking up ideas for writing. What is there to write about for thinking up ideas for writing? What to write? What to write? Okay, I’ll stop with the irony now. To write a good story you need to be enthusiastic about it. How to be enthusiastic? Write in a genre you really like (You do not have to do this but it often helps to build enthusiasm). Think up an idea(s) you think is good. (Then you will be excited about it). Well, the first one is easy but thinking up an idea is far easier to say than do. I know it first hand. My plots take months and months to plan sometimes. I cannot exactly think up ideas for everyone who wants to do a story. So, I’ll advise you on ways you can think up ideas. Write so...

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