This i...

This is one of my favorite poems of all time - creepy and weird as it is ;)I love Margaret Atwood. She rocks. She needs therapy, but she still rocks.This is a photograph of meIt was taken some time ago.At first it seems to bea smearedprint: blurred lines and grey flecksblended with the paper;then, as you scanit, you see in the left-hand cornera thing that is like a branch: part of a tree(balsam or spruce) emergingand, to the right, halfway upwhat ought to be a gentleslope, a small frame house.In the background there is a lake,and beyond that, some low hills.(The photograph was takenthe day after I drowned.I am in the lake, in the centerof the picture, just under the surface.It is difficult to say whereprecisely, or to sayhow large or small I am:the effect of wateron light is a distortionBut if you look long enougheventuallyyou will be able to see me.)

This poem was s...

This poem was sent to me by someone I loved very much, a long time ago.As it happens, he eventually betrayed me. But it doesn't change the beauty of the poem...Light shines warm from your eyes,and beauty flows free from your pen.I see with much surprise,you've taught me to love again.For there are secrets that you've know,but never have been shown.There are things you realize with you heart,not your eyes...And with my heart I see you standing by my side.Copyright R.J.N., 1995.

I us...

I used to write a lot.I never thought I was any good at it - and I still don't. Especially when I had such talented friends to compare to. Sometimes, I just had important things to say, and so the words just came out right.I have some of my old writing I think I'd like to post.You are all NOT allowed to laugh, although constructive criticism is heartily appreciated.But I have a question.What do you all think about posting stories/poems written by other people who's permissions I cannot get before posting them? I would, of course, give the credit to them, although I'm thinking by using initials or something, seeing as I'm sure many of them wouldn't appreciate me putting their full names on public domain. Some of them are really really good, and I know some of you would appreciate them...In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote in high school. This one I actually really like, tho it's very depressing. It's an interesting story how I wrote it; I was in French class, and was allowed to go to the library to study because I was a bit ahead, and already knew what she was teaching. So there I was, sitting in the library, and I fell asleep. At least, I assume that's what happened. When I woke up ten minutes later, this poem was written in my handwriting, on my notes. I guess I wrote it - I asked around and I didn't get up during that time to pick up any books, and no one came near me. *shrug* It was weird. And it's a truly strange poem, at least for me. Hope you all like it...or at least pretend you like it, anyway :)The CrossIt is a harsh, barren field.No grass, no trees, just an occasional weedthat escaped the wind.One single, lone cross draws the eye -a grave site.When one looks closerone seesthat there is no inscription.No name, no date.Just one lonely man, woman, childburied in a frozen desert.One wonders sometimeshow anyone could be loved so littleto be left here, alone.But then you think, andwhat does it really matter anyway.At least here there is peace,with only the sound of the windin the shadows of the treesthat aren't there.Death is everywhere here.The cross, the spirits of the treesthat once were abundant.Even in the live weeds there is deathas the harsh desert slowly stranglesall the life in it.Everything dies here.And one leaves, one knowyou can't ever really leave - but you'll never come back.

I just go...

I just got to chat with Mooney. Cool! He seems nice and always gives very supportive feedback to my lame attempts at "writing". Thanks for the chat, Steve!Anybody else wanna chat with me? Please? Save me from studying!!:)

I am no...

I am not a light bulb.Love doesn't have a switch.Not for me, anyway...I cannot be extinguished with a mere flick of your wrist,I can't be turned offor onon a whim.So be prepared, baby'Cause I am not a light bulb.

You and me...

You and me baby ain't nothing but mammals,So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel...That's all I have to say :)I'm thinking of a new story...it's coming. Soon, I promise.

*s...

*singing*Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner, That is what I'd really like to be,Cause if I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner, Everyone would be in love with me...Don't even ask me where that came from...I just started singing it randomly, loudly, in my room-mate's general direction. Poor her - if you've ever heard me sing, you know exactly how sorry to feel for her ;)It's better than*singing*My bologna has a first name, it's O-s-c-a-r,My bolgna has a second name, it's M-e-y-e-rI love to eat it every day, and if you ask me why I'll say...Cause Oscar Meyer has a way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a.*grin*