Synthaea
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Recent pages by Synthaea
I was seized by a sudden flood of concepts and had to grab the nearest bit of scrap paper. The notes grew of their own accord into a rather interesting structure. It's lovely when months of writer's block are interspersed with occasional surges of inspiration. :)
A bit of almost-Evane...
I wrote this a couple of weeks ago for somebody, decided to publish it now.
A bit of pain, a dash of uncertainty, some love-oriented thoughts and sentiments.
One of my few poems that actually rhymes.
This drifts between negative thoughts, it's a bit of a darker poem. Well, black is actually all the colours, not the absence of colour, so logically I should perhaps have called it "Lightless"... but this isn't optics, it's poetry. :P
This one is strange; wrought from the oddities of my subconscious, I believe. Inspiration was derived from a hair-clasp sitting on my desk and from conflicts within me; past pain and allusions to a friend at the fore of my mind. Five lines per stanza? Why not.
As the title implies, this one is for loverme, a fellow Wikinut poet who has come to be a dear friend to many of us. Loverme wrote one for me, so I thought it only fair that I do her/him the same kindness :)
Ooh, narcissism! Generally I don't indulge in it to this extent, but eh. Loss of love often brings out the worst in people. This poem is one of the bravest things I've ever written, because it makes me look so awful. :P
I got bored in a motel room a while ago and scrawled down a brief philosophical/ecological rant. Here 'tis.
This was inspired by aden kendroemen, a writer here on Wikinut, and is a reply to a comment he made on one of my pages - http://www.wikinut.com/love-s-cruel-sense-of-humour./1d14mjji/cxds-tgu/ - regarding love, hurt, relationships and trust.
So, upon finding that my response had assu...
A deeply painful tale, which is sadly true. I not only wrote this but sent it.
Some days, it's all too easy to forget that it is ultimately you who controls your mind, your perspectives, your life.
A bit shorter and sweeter than usual. I felt the need to write, and I miss him. (Who would've thought? These both seem to be unsettlingly recurrent themes in my poetry.)
Well, not really, I just thought that sounded amusing.
/insert thought-torrent here
Oh, and "a not-so-hidden message..."
Thought + emotion = poem.
Maybe later I'll regret having written this. Who knows what the future will hold. All I know is that anger is what I feel, right now. Thanks go to Alice Cooper, Marilyn Manson and Three Days Grace, for unknowingly lending me their lyrics for contortion.
Can this even constitute as a page? This is just me showing off, really; the fact that I went through a rather long phase of doing this, in my head, all the time. I started writing them down in a word document instead of studying. Don't ask, I don't get it either. Here it is.
More snippets. More bits and pieces. An impulsive triplet-couplet, a simple yet cryptic societal comment, an emotion-explosion and a disgruntled hypothetical tale.
Excuse me while I have a little rant at Western society, human nature and the world in general.
Snippets. Bits and pieces. A thought-couplet, a paragraph on suicide, a spontaneous plan.
General confusion, punctuated with intermittent rational cognition and fervent emotions.
This is extremely personal to me, in the sense that it was advice written specifically for myself, and thus I doubt many will be able to empathise or even understand :). However, it will provide anyone who's interested with insight about me. I hope someone recognises the D&D reference...
Don't you just hate it when you leave important things to the last minute... literally? This rant explores my personal experience with the common scholastic tendency of procrastination. (Admit it, we all do it.)
So many lives are mindless and unfulfilled. People are wasting away their existences and scrabbling for time in futility.
It's a stream, it's a stream, it's a stream of consciousness again! >.<
I'm gone, and I'm lamenting the absence of him... again.
Somewhat the sequel to Departure.












