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Danny_Darko's profile
AGE:
16
LOC: Elk Grove, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 19
LOC: Elk Grove, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 19
There’s not much to say about me except I have a love for writing and music. I began writing when I was about 8 years old (no joke) creating really bizarre out-there stories from Horror to Adventure/Action. I soon began to develop an interest in poetry around 7th grade which is when in my opinion I began growing a real potential for writing. By the end of 8th grade I was recommended for an Honors English class for my first year of High School which I accepted and had a hard time dealing with it for the first semester but eventually grew into the habit of really enjoying it. I was introduced to my favorite poet, Sylvia Plath, this year when I recited Fever 103 Degrees for Poetry Out Loud in my 9th grade Honors English class. I hope to bec…
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The sun’s luminary light, The water colored air, A child’s merriment, The mocking bird concerts, The “smile” the earth gives: I am immune to it. The sun’s sharp rays Hurt me and burn me like swords of flame. The ocean blue Chokes and drowns with its salty nails. A child’s mirth is no child. It is the hysteria of only an abandoned wind. The mocking bird does not sing. Its neck is broken and lies dead with the wind’s hysterics. Instead, a chorus sings A lament accompanied by organs. And the smi...
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Version 1
6 Reviews
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The sun’s luminary light, The water colored air, A child’s merriment, The mocking bird concerts, The “smile” the earth gives: I am immune to it. The sun’s sharp rays Hurt me and burn me like swords of flame. The ocean blue Chokes and drowns with its salty nails. A child’s mirth is no child. It is the hysteria of only an abandoned wind. The mocking bird does not sing. It’s neck is broken and lies dead with the wind’s hysterics. Instead, a chorus sings A lament accompanied by organs. And the sm...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
7 Reviews
0 Comments
I hang here, and I hear nothing but the hum of ventilation and my dying breath. The frosty air glaciates my body and shades it a deathly blue. My eyes roll mindlessly in my skull. I think I’m having a spell. These shackles constrict my wrists like starving serpents turning my hands purple as plums. My convulsions bring these chains to jingle and dance like a death song as frost falls like ash onto my sapphire lips and ruby eyes of glass now stopped in a deep freeze. These salty streams of ic...
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That was rather interesting. To me, a little difficult but that's a good thing. Writing a poem that makes you think and get into depth with it really makes it fun. That's what psychologically captures you in. "Children gone, scars covered strength gained Her pain hidden" I like this stanza. What I got out of it was when this speaker's children leave her and go off and live life she is left "Alone" but hides her pain and sorrowful lost. this line is very clever, true to life and something I'm ...
Well, it's very well written and resembles a similiar style of Gregory Maguire's "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister." I like the irony of the father not allowing his son not to be subjected to the outside world because of all the stories obviously spreading around the town if it's a scary bed time story for the little ones to go to bed to at night. I feel though that you could stretch this story out and expand a few details to coninue little Arhivah's legacy to be a "tool for the town." I mu...
Wow, I'm terribly sorry. My heart goes out to you. That really must be a pain to have to go through what you do everyday. That just seems really painful. I couldn't imagine just how must that would hurt. Surgery must really be a drag. Especially all the anticipation that comes with it. I've never had sugery before so I can't really relate to what you have felt. But I know I'd be really weary of having many surgeries. Just one seems scary enough. Well, I hope you get your strength back. I wis...
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