While I Sleep, Book Shelves Dream

The way of kings crossed
cold magic, the Magician.
In the forests of the Night
the Candidates matched
the power of six new moons,
the watchers breaking dawn.


so I thought I'd try creating a poem from some titles of books on my bookshelves.  This is just a start. I might keep working on it and see how long and how many titles I can include in it.  I think the only rules I'll keep is that I can only add conjunction words and (s) or (ed) at the ends of words to make them work.  I think I'll randomly capitalize some of the words that are actually capitalized in titles to break up the fluency of it so it stands out more that those were once capitalized. 
~T

A Pleasure Read

Sat, forgotten
you, alone
have become
a book stand.
Soda pop
and plates of green
crush your pages
left unseen.
The busy path
of higher education
has forced
you to the side.
Too busy,
so alone,
too busy
to give
you, Within
my mind,
a home.


Just wrote this tonight after realizing that I've left this one new book of mine just sitting on my side table next to my bed. I haven't had time to read it because I've been so busy with homework. Of course, it sat beneath a bottle of powerade and has sat beneath many other things as well as I've sat in bed working on homework instead of reading. ;p ~T

Not a poem- Essay on Fantasy Fiction

I was wanting to write an essay on something, just for fun. Don't hear that very often, do you? lol. Anyways, I picked the topic of Fantasy fiction. I asked myself- How do you define Fantasy fiction? This is what I wrote. Enjoy and leave me comments about the essay in general or how you define Fantasy fiction or maybe any other genre of literature that you enjoy. :) ~T

Fantasy takes the mind somewhere it may have never imagined. Yet, someone else imagined it. Authors of fantasy fiction build exciting, parallel worlds, magical beings and an over all sense of awe.

What if today's world didn't have cars, but instead everyone traveled by giant bubbles? Authors build their fantasy worlds on stacked questions of; "What if?" The essential question for all fiction writers plays a crucial part in delving into a writer's imagination. What if the sky was brown and the dirt was blue? Readers of fantasy fiction cannot question, "why?" Fantasy makes the question irrelevant. Yet, a great fantasy writer will be able to paint a world of magic and delights so believable, instead readers will ask, "why not?"

Once the world is built, why not add creatures of wonder? Magical creatures of fantasy are almost a must. The selection and creation of fantasy characters and creatures is usually inspired by the combination of; what the author knows, reality, and ideas formed from myths or folklore, or formed from pure creativity. These characters and creatures give the author's created world a purpose.

With purpose, comes life and adventure. Fantasy worlds are created, filled, brought to life and then presented to the reader. Readers of fantasy can devour the platter of an amazing world, wondrous creatures and a great tale of adventure. The author transforms these magical, fantasy elements into a tasty smoothie. Readers learn to love the characters. The readers are amazed by the fantasy world. Then the readers just burst into ecstastical bliss, all from a well written fantasy.

These fantasy authors are great at building exciting worlds, filling them with magical beings and leaving readers satisfied and in awe. That is what defines a good fantasy novel. Fantasy, as we never imagined, built upon questions.

Paths

Which path, which path?
which path to take?
the lands are treacherous
and there's so much at stake
Worlds flow through
Rich with promise
Itching, clawing, begging
to ring the glottis
a hearty laugh
full of soul
smile upon
her senses dulled
which path, which path?
her path to take
all or none
her heart does ache
reaching, seeking, taking all
to sing out laughter
from her stories' sway
string the notes
high with joy
as each path unfurles
each path deployed.


It's been a long time since I have posted a new poem. Mostly because it's been almost that long since I have written one. My mind has been distracted with other writings and readings which actually inspired this poem. I have been working on several story ideas as well as working on one novel and reading several novels. It's hard to choose which story to delve into though, which is what inspired this poem. =) enjoy.
~T

My Books Haunt Me

Silent meetings
filled with tears
How each page...
each phrase...
echoes in my ears
Drop a bomb
to my heart
make me dream
of a new start
Happy laughter
smiling hearts
Hopeless frowns
silent screams
Playing part
pages echo
in my dreams
Sleepless nights
of imaginary things
Close the book
turn out the light
But faces still cry
with each passing page of night.


This was inspired after finishing reading the Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins. I got too emotionally attached to the characters and felt their pain greatly. I do that alot, get attached to characters that aren't real, mostly in books and then I want to recreate the story and make it something happy, that is how I'd like it to be. But then I remember that it's already printed in ink and I can't change it. and I also tell myself it's not real, but my emotions are real, so it's hard. *sigh* :(
~T

The Book of My Life

lost among the pages
I long never to leave
another world, different faces
the longer the book
the faster I read
the fantasy, my mind took
flew away, gone at last
uncertain of reality
escaping it's firm grasp
but what will become of me
as I burrow and hide
into the books I flee?
a great adventure
is what I long and crave
yet in reality, I will never venture
I am scared
because at the end
pages will sit idle as they were all I cared.

I reread the last Harry Potter book between last night and today. It made me feel very melancholy at the end. I hate the prologue at the end... it makes me sad to have missed 19 years of Harry and everyone else's life. Why do I feel so sad to miss a character from a books life? It wasn't real. Yet everyday I hide myself away, reading books, my head lost in my own world of imagination. I miss out on parts of my own life. Things I find myself scared to face. I am a coward. Too scared to live my own life the way I truly want to, in order to be happy. I can live vicariously through my books...but when it comes down to the end...we all die and what true love and life will I have to remember? Pages of print telling me what their adventure found... while I sat idle, too scared to grab my own. Fear of the unknown... can destroy life... If only I could now find the courage to grab my life and make it be what I want it to. Though with my books of fantasy, I find I long for those things that we know not to be real. Things of fantasy are my longing...and unobtainable. From a young age I always wished to be born in a different time, a different world. I do not fit here. I love my family but I long for something more...which I am unsure of. I'm not sure I know how to be happy anymore. I wish I knew how to find happiness. It's just an ongoing battle within myself for my life. Wish me luck.
~T~

Reading

Melt into the abyss
mind seeking yet another
clouds float, too close, too dense
burning eyes refuse to surrender
moving fast, taking it all in
til the morning dawn calls it's hinder
sleep commands
yet defiance moves forward
searching, loving another world's demands
the mind's reel never stopping
story after story
reality harping
give in to the loss
reality must be lived
remembering it is truly the boss
flicking off the switch
the reel refuses to unwind
darkness tries to engulf
but fleeting lovers burst to mind
and eventually sleep rends the snuff

This is how it feels for me to read, how I have such a hard time putting a book down to go to sleep and how the story refuses to leave my mind as I try there trying to fall asleep.