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Penlight's profile
AGE:
45
LOC: Fullerton, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: January 20
LOC: Fullerton, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: January 20
I am a 43 yr old male living in Orange County,Ca. Poetry and songs are what I’ve played with in the past, but I have recently given a serious hand to the amazing world of Screenwriting. My co-writer and I just landed a WGA Agent for the second, of two completed spec scripts, which is titled “White Trash” W.T. is an emotionaly charged heart-kicking social and domestic Drama. Among other projects, I am currently putting together a poetically narrated autobiography of sorts and am ready to start seriously developing my poem craft.
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Hiding her intention with a gilded caress she runs easily into the corridor of my heart. Absent now, what once was abundant and all that’s left is this itchy urge to covet each others promises. Yet still, to continue in genuine effort when the facts destroy our trust makes haste of our un-doing setting us on a course of a well refined misery. And we, what of us in silent nights and blackened air, where no one is shy while eye’s are closed?... It’s been enough ...
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What great shelter it is to easily run for the familiar arms of my belief, where my ideals are aging and exiled. Where only stagnant waters run halting the growth of my spirit-and forward moving. How long must one remain tethered to his rusted perception, before the new truth hits him like a lost discovery. I will NOT… be un-teachable un-listening close minded indifferent aloof nor branded by false images on a celluloid heart who’s crooked pictures taint the screen ...
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Even when at deaths door Dying my beautifully disguised disease wishes to knock on that door anyway, as if some brilliant demise might grant reprieve from my misery. But I have seen through the eyes of clarity. Lived with faith in a divine creator only to turn and run Back to the only ”Home” I’ve ever known. …the middle the top the bottom of the bottle. And again, here I am in a place so empty the city of my birth where I return with such labor as a na...
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Out on the prison yard I sit sun-soaked and bleeding on the inside. Tick-tock...time goes by murdering each minute in the presence of the day. Along comes another inmate,battling the buttons of his shirt with crooked fingers that once stole from people while they slept. "Pretty hot out" he says. "Yea" I reply, while waiting for the death of the next minute...to come.
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Version 1
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Upon the mountain timber green The wolf begins to speak Reflecting moonlight ripples on The surface of the creek. Beside a distant fire while beating on his drum there sits a lonely Indian chanting in his native tongue. Kindred spirits-boy and beast shed a common tear the buffalo on which they feast have gone away from here. The white man and his musket have come to rape the land and now the lonely Indian will make his final stand. The howling of the wolf. The danc...
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Wow! A very brief use of excellent language. You say so much with so few words. The rhyme and meter are perfect and I love the meta/physical aspect of something so simply stated.Other than the one typo; "sole"...SOUL....I can't find anyhing negative to say about this BRILLIANT piece. I give it a STRONG BRAVO!
I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. It was so easy to read and flowed so gently. Your use of vocabulary is quite proficient in that you utilize many synonyms. "laden breaths unending"..."inside the aching void"..paint beautifully the image of forlorn love. Your strength however is in the story of this peice and I feel that this person comes to some realization in the end. I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can find that I would change in any way, your meter is perfect as is your form & structure....
I was brought into the fold of these two. Your beautiful imagery and description leaves me nothing to intone in the negative.I can only say that it has a nice flow with perfect meter. A story told with a range of vocabulary leaving just enough allusion for me to paint my own scape. "dreams designing a future; we are the parents" brings this to a tight knit conclusion yet however it may belittle the reader in its directness. You've explained throughout who they are and what they're doing, mayb...
WoW~! I don't have a working knowledge of middle eastern sytax, but I feel its flavor here. This is an incredible declaration of the dynamics of love. I liked the way it flowed. I saw maybe two typo's, and it ran a little long for this author's taste. But alas it needed to be its length in order to fuly convey its message. I am astounded at the broad range of your vocabulary. You certainly have painted a very intelligent and thought inspiring piece. You are so far out of my league I fear that...
Wow~! I really enjoyed this piece. You find an economy of words to say so much. Aside from the city of Manhattan being spelled wrong, I can't find any thing wrong with this. I think the last line pulls it all together. Brilliant! I give this a strong BRAVO!
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