Daniël's Writings - Exhaustion [Poem]

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Daniël's Writings - Exhaustion [Poem]

Postby Daniël » Mon Dec 08, 2014 2:16 pm

Daniël's Writings


Exhaustion

Blank mind, rid my memories,
take all that I've known and learned.
Fully filled and fully drained,
for I am truly burned.
Mental pain and mental ease,
are going head to head,
Being only strengthened,
by the comfort of my bed.
Lay me down in silk,
lay me down in suede.
Cover me in linen,
from my head until my feet.
Release me of my efforts,
release me of my stress.
Take me past the horizon,
don't want anything less.


Progress
Spoiler:
He ran and he ran and he ran,
he ran towards the finish ahead.
No turning back, always forward,
he ran himself literally mad.
knowing he would get there soon,
for the finish was so very clear.
And while it always seemed close,
it never seemed to get near.
He always got closer and closer,
perpetually chasing the finish.
But closest to the destination,
it would just slowly diminish.
Then reappear slightly further,
so he kept on going ahead.
He kept perpetually running,
until he dropped finally dead.

The Velvet Drapes
Spoiler:
They will open every morning, for they close every night,
allowing one to see the world, and take view of the scapes.
To make the room fill fully up, with precious, liquid light,
to set the world in motion, such are the velvet drapes.

Separated, that they are, to witness all life's beauty,
until they reunite again, as would be their duty.

But the loop is not perpetual, for everything ends,
one can ponder, one can fear, one day they will not open.
That time is when the endless night, shall quietly commence,
when the drapes are shut and the window will be broken.

They will shut for all of us, to that there is no escape,
only to catch a glimpse of light, such are the velvet drapes.

The Pointless Journey of the Simple Minded
Spoiler:
They had been walking for days. Weeks even. Continuously. They only stopped to eat and sleep, then they continued walking again. None of them were really sure why they were doing it, but none of them complained either. If the others were doing it, it must be the right thing to do, otherwise, why would anyone be apart of this dreadful, tiring walking charade. When they started walking, the group consisted of seven people. Sadly some tragic events that happened during the last few days, had taken two members from the group, which meant they were only with five people now. There was Doyle, who initiated all of this. Even though Doyle wasn't generally liked, he seemed to be the only one of them who knew what they were doing, which made him their silently elected leader. Doyle always walked in the front of the party, this way, he had explained at the beginning of their journey, which seemed like a lifetime ago, he knew exactly where he needed to go, therefor the others would know where to go. This all made plenty sense for the group, so no-one bothered to ask any questions. Walking behind Doyle, there was Sanderup, a rather short lad who seemed to be the only one that actually liked the man in front of him. At least, one would assume he liked Doyle, considering he was looking at his behind the entire journey and was never more than 10 feet removed from it. Next in line there were Margaret and Cristina. Margaret was dragged along by Cristina to come along and somehow managed to convince her into taking this Godforsaken trip. It didn't make sense to anyone that Margaret would even listen to Cristina, who was barely ever nice to her. In fact, no-one remembered Cristina ever saying anything nice to Margaret and they had been in their uninterrupted presence for quite a while. Margaret was very much a pushover though, no-one could dislike her for this very reason, but whenever anyone had a conversation with her they just felt too sad for Margaret to actually level with her. Not only was she socially very awkward to be around, she wasn't much to look at either. Her face somehow looked like bread, Cristina had once told her and when she pitched it into the group, everyone had to admit that Margaret's face indeed did slightly resemble a slice of bread. As if this wasn't enough, her weight must have been pretty deep in the triple digits. At least it used to be, the last couple of days food had been scarce, which definitely affected her silhouette. What used to look like a buoy, transformed into a slightly smaller beanbag with legs. Cristina was in almost every possible way different from her so-called friend. She looked more like a human Barbie-doll. With far from modest breasts and legs that looked like the Eiffeltower upside down it was hard to deny that Cristina was a looker. Admittedly, she looked better before they left, but Cristina still managed to work it really well under their current conditions. In the back of the group was Jejo. Jejo had spoken very little the entire journey, but always managed to make himself useful one way or another. Just the other day it was Sanderup who had troubles starting a fire for dinner. It took him almost half an hour of bashing rocks together before Jejo finally came up to him to show him how it was done. Afterward, Sanderup still had no idea how his efforts were any different from Jejo's, but at least he got the fire going, which seemed more than sufficient at the time.

As the sky started to darken, it was suggested that they'd set up their camp on what seemed like a rather suitable spot. In reality, this spot wasn't any different from anything in a radius of what had to be at least a 100 miles, but everyone was tired from all the walking. Cristina started complaining about how Margaret had eaten too much of their food, while everyone else was rolling out their beds. She then told Margaret to fix up her bed as well, in order to make up for her inaptness of contributing in any other way. After these orders were accepted and executed to the best of Margaret's abilities, Cristina still managed to complain, to which Sanderup jokingly responded: 'If you don't like your bed, you can always stay in mine, sweety.' This wasn't as funny to Cristina as it was to Sanderup, who got his ass verbally handed to him in the moment following. Luckily for him Cristina was interrupted by Jejo, who had just finished cooking what seemed like a lot of groceries mixed together into a brown stew. Next to him stood Doyle, who stated with a grasping voice: 'Looks like it will be only 2 or 3 more days until we're entirely out of food, so you better enjoy it.' This was barely a surprise for anyone in the group and the update was received in mutual silence. Even Cristina's ever-yapping mouth had come to shut, realizing how very small their chances of surviving were.
It didn't take long to fall asleep, as the journey had thoroughly tired everyone's body. However, as silent as it were, there was sound to be heard from Cristina's bed that night. Margaret who slept close enough to Cristina to hear was awoken by the muffled sounds coming from her neighbor's sack. She slowly opened one eye to see what was going on, which she immediately regretted. Not much more than 5 feet away from her she saw a big manly silhouette that could be no-one, but Doyle's. Cristina's pushing a turning made it very clear that Doyle had invited himself that night. “It will only hurt more if you struggle, but it's up to you.” He whispered in Cristina's ear, while he pushed a knife against her throat with one hand and unbuttoned her blouse with the other. Margaret had seen enough. Silent as she could be, she turned around and closed her eyes.

Cristina was no-where to be found that morning. After some brief searching they all just assumed Cristina had taken off on her own and it wouldn't have much use to spend any more time on her. They were lucky enough she didn't steal their food anyway. Sanderup was rather disappointed by this, as Cristina was one of the very few things around here that was worth looking at, but decided to march on anyway. They had another day of walking to do. He did not know what the next day would bring, nor did he want to. He knew all that mattered right there and then was to keep walking. This time they were only with four, but Sanderup figured there was little purpose in focusing on what had been and decided it was more purposeful to think about what's ahead. “Whatever crosses my path, I shall conquer.”, he said to himself while he took another step in the vast desert.

Grocery Genocide
Spoiler:
It was cold. Not inhabitably cold, but pretty damn cold nonetheless. It was exactly 35 degrees, Egg knew. Not because he was inexplicably good at telling the temperature, but because the big white shelf they were on had a thermometer hanging in the top-corner, right next to Butter, who was chilling in the door. They were unsure what was going to happen, but Egg had a very bad feeling about it. It was only an hour ago that they were put in this cold cell. Not long ago he was a free egg, everything seemed to make a lot more sense back then. In his old home he was surrounded by family, but now he and 11 of his friends were here, waiting for what was going to happen next. Even though everything seemed like an uncertainty, Egg couldn't help but feel bad for Butter. When Egg was taken from his previous home, he was put in a blue, plastic, portable hole, where he got to meet Butter. Butter told him that he was the only one of his friends that was taken by this particular kidnapper, but that he definitely wasn't the first to be taken away. For Egg it wasn't much different, he knew there were boxes of eggs disappearing continuously and that it was merely a matter of time before it was his turn.
And now he was here, in this place. He wasn't able to talk to Butter, who was too far away. Not that he was in a talking mood anyway, as he was feeling pretty down about the whole abduction thing. He was just sitting there, looking around him and considered trying to get some sleep. All the others in the box seemed to have done the same, but Egg could hardly close an eye with this uncertain faith floating above his head. After what seemed like hours of sleepless pondering, the lights in the cell turned on and the giant prison-door was starting to open. A familiar hand put a dead fish, wrapped in see-through plastic, right next to the box Egg was sitting in. 'What kind of fucked up joke is this?', Egg mumbled before the door closed once again. 'Maybe he's still alive, ask him a question.' The egg next to him was woken up by the bright light and heard Egg's mumbling. Egg knew him well, as he was one of the few eggs that were close to him in the box. Even though this had to be the nicest of all eggs, this was very much compensated by his lack of intelligence. Egg frowned at him in the hopes to make his neighbor aware of his stupid question. The egghead looked back confused and a few seconds later it turned towards the obviously dead fish and started screaming 'Hey fish! Fishyfishyfish! Are you alive!? FIIIISH!'.
Unsurprisingly there was very little response. By now the screaming had drawn everyone in the fridge's attention. An almost empty bottle of Heinz ketchup shouted angrily: 'Could you shut up!? Screaming isn't gonna resurrect that damn mackerel, so if you could just lower your volume it would be very much appreciated. Besides, it's not gonna be long before you'll be just as dead as him.' This statement didn't please Egg in the slightest. He felt his yolk sinking to his bottom and had to catch some breath before he was able to respond to his predicted doom. After trying to find the right words for a moment, all he eventually managed to spurt out was: 'How do you mean, dead?' After about 15 seconds of dramatic silence, the bottle of slaughtered tomatoes responded: 'I've been here for quite a while, but the same cannot be said for you dairy products. Especially little eggs like you aren't gonna last very long around here. I've seen the likes of you get taken by groups and never returning again.' It was then that Egg praised the lord that he wasn't cursed with genitalia, because he was pretty certain that if he were, he'd definitely wouldn't have been able to keep the box dry. 'You'd be one of the luckier ones though, I've heard you yolk folks get a pretty swift death out there. Your buddy Butter of there, whom I saw you entering here with, probably won't be as lucky. Chances are he'll get cut up, piece by piece, over the next couple of days. Most of 'em last about one or two weeks, but at least they'll be dead within the first few days. In the end, it's going to be tough for all of us, I can tell you that much. Me, I've been emptied bit by bit, I'm guessing it won't be long before I get to meet the good lord either. Every so often I'm taken out of here and so they can spray my innards over others. Whoever is doing this to us is a fucking maniac, I can tell you that much.' Egg didn't know what to say after that, so he decided it might be better not to say anything at all. Instead he'd rather silently feel bad for himself, he decided. It took quite a lot of self-pity for Egg to finally fall asleep.

The next morning (at least that's what he assumed, there wasn't really a clock anywhere), Egg was awoken by the giant door that got opened again. This time the hand wasn't there to add more residents however, this time it came to take. The hand opened the box and as if it were destined to be, both Egg and his neighbor were taken from it and were transported from the cold cell to what seemed like a much larger prison, only this one had windows. 'Oh boy, here we go.' Egg regretted that he most likely had to spend his last moments with a grade A moron. He tried to look at the face of his capturer, but wasn't able to do so as a big camera was right in front of it. The lens was very clearly pointed at him. Egg started looking around. He was placed on a stone cold, flat surface. Not much farther from him he saw what looked like a giant, silver snake, only instead of a head it had a flat, round end where a few drops of water fell from. When Egg looked back at the guy with the camera in front of his face, he saw that the man had also taken the dead fish with him. 'What the fuck are you planning to do, you sick fuck!?', Egg screamed at the man, who either didn't hear him or just decided to ignore Egg, as there was no reply.
He then proceeded to grab Egg's near-retarded neighbor and before he could even let out another 'Oh boy', he had already been smashed to death against the face of the fish. Egg looked in horror at what had just happened before him. He saw the hand come closer. From there on it was all black for Egg.

About two hours later, the man was done editing his video and was all ready to upload it to his popular YouTube-channel HowToBasic. 'This is going to be another classic.', he chuckled while he was typing in the words 'How To Impregnate a Fish' and hit upload.
Last edited by Daniël on Thu Dec 10, 2015 4:17 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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Re: Daniël's Stories - Grocery Genocide

Postby Will » Mon Dec 08, 2014 2:28 pm

I took some time out of my inredibly busy schedule to read this.

It was good.
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Re: Daniël's Stories - Grocery Genocide

Postby Lord » Mon Dec 08, 2014 4:50 pm

This is... ridiculous. I was confused by the 5th line and then realised you were actually talking about an egg. I find it funny how all of the foods in the fridge think they're being killed by a murderer.

A line in particular I loved is this one; 'He felt his yolk sinking to his bottom'. I can see it almost vividly... O.O
And then the HowToBasic at the end, Ha ha. This was pretty funny, you need to make more like this.
Keep it up.
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Re: Daniël's Stories - Grocery Genocide

Postby Daniël » Mon Dec 15, 2014 9:56 am

LordPivot wrote:This is... ridiculous. I was confused by the 5th line and then realised you were actually talking about an egg. I find it funny how all of the foods in the fridge think they're being killed by a murderer.

A line in particular I loved is this one; 'He felt his yolk sinking to his bottom'. I can see it almost vividly... O.O
And then the HowToBasic at the end, Ha ha. This was pretty funny, you need to make more like this.
Keep it up.

Thanks man, I'm glad you liked it.

Alright, now for something very different. I tried writing something in an existentialist-fashion, which I hope is worth reading to any of you. I can very much imagine if anyone would not like this one as much, but if anyone takes the time to read it anyway, it would be much appreciated.
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Four » Mon Dec 15, 2014 10:28 am

Well, they're dead. Both of these were a pleasure to read I tip my hat to you sir.
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Alca » Mon Dec 15, 2014 11:24 am

Damn. Space your paragraphs man. Large walls of text are not pleasing to the eye at all. Organize your paragraphs into smaller chunks. Also you should separate dialogue from the main text.

E.g.

Spoiler:
It was cold. Not inhabitably cold, but pretty damn cold nonetheless. It was exactly 35 degrees, Egg knew. Not because he was inexplicably good at telling the temperature, but because the big white shelf they were on had a thermometer hanging in the top-corner, right next to Butter, who was chilling in the door. They were unsure what was going to happen, but Egg had a very bad feeling about it. It was only an hour ago that they were put in this cold cell. Not long ago he was a free egg, everything seemed to make a lot more sense back then. In his old home he was surrounded by family, but now he and 11 of his friends were here, waiting for what was going to happen next.

Even though everything seemed like an uncertainty, Egg couldn't help but feel bad for Butter. When Egg was taken from his previous home, he was put in a blue, plastic, portable hole, where he got to meet Butter. Butter told him that he was the only one of his friends that was taken by this particular kidnapper, but that he definitely wasn't the first to be taken away. For Egg it wasn't much different, he knew there were boxes of eggs disappearing continuously and that it was merely a matter of time before it was his turn.

And now he was here, in this place. He wasn't able to talk to Butter, who was too far away. Not that he was in a talking mood anyway, as he was feeling pretty down about the whole abduction thing. He was just sitting there, looking around him and considered trying to get some sleep. All the others in the box seemed to have done the same, but Egg could hardly close an eye with this uncertain faith floating above his head. After what seemed like hours of sleepless pondering, the lights in the cell turned on and the giant prison-door was starting to open. A familiar hand put a dead fish, wrapped in see-through plastic, right next to the box Egg was sitting in.

'What kind of fucked up joke is this?', Egg mumbled before the door closed once again

'Maybe he's still alive, ask him a question.'

The egg next to him was woken up by the bright light and heard Egg's mumbling. Egg knew him well, as he was one of the few eggs that were close to him in the box. Even though this had to be the nicest of all eggs, this was very much compensated by his lack of intelligence. Egg frowned at him in the hopes to make his neighbor aware of his stupid question. The egghead looked back confused and a few seconds later it turned towards the obviously dead fish and started screaming 'Hey fish! Fishyfishyfish! Are you alive!? FIIIISH!'.


It reads a lot better. Just some stylistic advice. Presentation is pretty important. If you only wanted to use single spacing you could indent the first line of each paragraph instead. At the moment it's difficult to distinguish between them.

I'll read it properly when I get time, and I'll give my thoughts on it. It looks interesting though.
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Lord » Mon Dec 15, 2014 4:37 pm

Nice story, quite enthralling
but something I didn't understand all too clearly...
Spoiler:
where would Doyle have put Christinas body? If the land was pretty much flat for kilometers?
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Jojishi » Sat Dec 20, 2014 9:23 pm

I agree with Alca about the paragraphs. It's off-putting to try and read a wall of text. At least from what I know you start a new paragraph with whatever the next subject is.

Daniël wrote:They had been walking for days. Weeks even. Continuously. They only stopped to eat and sleep, then they continued walking again.

None of them were really sure why they were doing it, but none of them complained either. If the others were doing it, it must be the right thing to do, otherwise, why would anyone be apart of this dreadful, tiring walking charade. When they started walking, the group consisted of seven people. Sadly some tragic events that happened during the last few days, had taken two members from the group, which meant they were only with five people now.

There was Doyle, who initiated all of this. Even though Doyle wasn't generally liked, he seemed to be the only one of them who knew what they were doing, which made him their silently elected leader. Doyle always walked in the front of the party, this way, he had explained at the beginning of their journey, which seemed like a lifetime ago, he knew exactly where he needed to go, therefor the others would know where to go. This all made plenty sense for the group, so no-one bothered to ask any questions.

Walking behind Doyle, there was Sanderup, a rather short lad who seemed to be the only one that actually liked the man in front of him. At least, one would assume he liked Doyle, considering he was looking at his behind the entire journey and was never more than 10 feet removed from it.

Next in line there were Margaret and Cristina... etc.


I think that's a bit better now. I started each paragraph off with the new description of each character.

Getting to the description of each character, I think describing the entire group and all their names right at the start is also quite intimidating to read. It's so much information to take in right off the bat. You could perhaps make some very vague descriptions, and then describe more about them later on in the story with all the back-stories you've provided. Spread them out through-out the story.

For example, when they set up camp, you could have had them sit around a camp-fire. One of the characters could have looked at the other and noticed for example, a scar on the character's face. This reminded that character of the time when... etc. That way you're hitting two birds with one stone by getting a description of the character and a back-story put in.

I think it's an interesting story though. It seems creative (not as creative as Grocery Genocide :) ) but it's still good. I think the sentences flow well together. I also thought the part where one of the character's was molested/raped was written well. Good writing dude. I liked the story quite a bit.
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Daniël » Sat Dec 27, 2014 6:16 am

Alca wrote:*snip*

Thanks for the advice man, I'll try to put more effort into spacing the paragraphs. Though I'm pretty certain I won't be spacing them as much as you tend to do, but rather more book-esque.
LordPivot wrote:
Spoiler:
where would Doyle have put Christinas body? If the land was pretty much flat for kilometers?

Who knows? Perhaps he dragged her all the way back, behind a sand hill. Or perhaps their food rations had inexplicably increased./spoiler
Jojishi wrote:*snip*

I'll keep the character introduction idea in mind when I write something next. I was aiming for a bit of a different feel in this story, I probably wouldn't have written it the way I did if I was writing something else.

Anyway, thank you all for the advice and comments, they're all very much appreciated. It makes my heart glow a little.

I've written this piece over a week ago and wasn't actually planning on putting it here, since I'm really not that confident about my poetry skills, but since I haven't updated for quite a while I decided to post it here anyway.
I hope you can take some enjoyment from reading it.
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Re: Daniël's Stories: The Pointless Journey of the Simple Mi

Postby Alca » Sat Dec 27, 2014 8:05 am

Daniël wrote:
Alca wrote:*snip*

Thanks for the advice man, I'll try to put more effort into spacing the paragraphs. Though I'm pretty certain I won't be spacing them as much as you tend to do, but rather more book-esque.
LordPivot wrote:
Spoiler:
where would Doyle have put Christinas body? If the land was pretty much flat for kilometers?

Who knows? Perhaps he dragged her all the way back, behind a sand hill. Or perhaps their food rations had inexplicably increased./spoiler
Jojishi wrote:*snip*

I'll keep the character introduction idea in mind when I write something next. I was aiming for a bit of a different feel in this story, I probably wouldn't have written it the way I did if I was writing something else.

Anyway, thank you all for the advice and comments, they're all very much appreciated. It makes my heart glow a little.

I've written this piece over a week ago and wasn't actually planning on putting it here, since I'm really not that confident about my poetry skills, but since I haven't updated for quite a while I decided to post it here anyway.
I hope you can take some enjoyment from reading it.


That's fine, but If you want to make it more book-esque you could indent each paragraph 5 spaces to the right instead, which is usually standard convention. Doesn't look like you can really do that though on this forum though because for some reason spaces aren't recognized if they start at the beginning of a line. I never space my paragraphs when working on a novel though, I always just use indents.

Just read the poem. Pretty good work. I liked the imagery.
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Re: Daniël's Stories - Progress [Poem]

Postby Daniël » Sat May 16, 2015 2:39 pm

So I do this thing now where I write poems on my phone every now and then. Usually before going to bed, but also sometimes when I have a hangover or feel generally inspired for whatever reason. Most of these poems are in Dutch, but once in a while an English one slips in. I've actually written this one on 4/20 according to my phone log, but since I haven't updated this in quite a while (or shared anything creative recently), I decided to share this one.

I hope you guys like it.
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Re: Daniël's Writings - Exhaustion [Poem]

Postby Daniël » Tue Dec 01, 2015 7:18 pm

Decided to upload another one of my iPhone poems, so I can still claim to be a creative mind of some sorts.

This one I wrote after a pretty long night of clubbing in Berlin about half a year ago, hope y'all can appreciate it.
(Just checked, it was June 1st, which is exactly 6 months. Ain't that neat?)
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Re: Daniël's Writings - Exhaustion [Poem]

Postby lordkazari » Tue Dec 01, 2015 7:48 pm

woah . . .
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Re: Daniël's Writings - Exhaustion [Poem]

Postby para nimo » Sat Sep 10, 2016 6:07 pm

This saddens me ;-;
Spoiler:
quote wrote:
quote o: wrote:
quote O: wrote:
quote fuck off wrote:Don't quote me
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