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Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:

Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.

Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...

Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...

Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012

It Came From The DarkIt Came From The Dark:

Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,

Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.

Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,

And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.

It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,

It cared not for the sensation of pain...

All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -

One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!

Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,

And in that moment, it learned of the truth.

For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -

was me...

To The Beautiful YouTo The Beautiful You:

Here we are, sitting behind these screens of glass,

Reading lines of text, yet smiling, laughing and crying.

It's strange to think that I could have this much fun -

Considering that I've never met you before, but then again

Perhaps that's the reason why I don't have to pretend.

Some people might tell me, that what we have is just a fantasy,

I doubt I'll have the chance to actually see you in this life-time.

But even so, in the time that we've spent together - Well,

I feel as though I've connected with you, more than anyone else.

I feel as though I know you better, than those just a few feet away.

You might tak

Waking NightmaresWaking Nightmares:

It begins in the same way, every single night
Fire spreading from an altar in the darkness—
As all living beings are slowly consumed,
The coruscating flames appear wet with blood…

The scene then changes to a flooded hallway
Live wires dangling just above the water,
Like venomous serpents slithering in the darkness—
A single pounce would end my life…

Eventually the hallway ends with a door,
One that reminds me of forgotten yore—
And my thoughts shall be in rhyme at this point
As though lips and tongue are eternally joint…

What maddened schemes have they in mind?
It is not a questio

DishonouredDishonoured:

He stands before the adoring crowd,
Basking in their cheers and standing ovation.
But he has already been dishonoured -
By means of his perverse innovation.

For none could know of the dark secret;
About the art that he claims to be his own.
It is naught but an illusion, smoke and mirrors -
A theft for which he must atone...

But this disgusting creature, this worthless abhuman;
So desperate for the glory which he sees upon the stage!
Will quietly don the skin of another;
An urge he must assuage...

Biting his nails, a cracked smile upon his lips, he whispers:
"No one will know, no one will find it and I am great..."

FEARFEAR:

Frantically he scrambles away from the dark
Eager to be free of his waking nightmare
Acting only upon the instinct within him;
Reminded constantly that he is prey

For some time he hides in the pervasive shadows—
Earnestly praying that he will not be discovered
A single sound is all it takes to jar him;
Running from a creature that he can barely see

From head to toe it is certainly monstrous
Enshrouded in an aura of absolute repugnance
As the acid drips from its cruel jaws,
Rapidly dissolving the ground below

Fearful, he cowers, beneath boxes and cardboard,
Escaping away into a tiny corner of his mind
Alone with only

Alone but AliveAlone but Alive:

Oh here I am standing,
A lost soul is landing.

The coldest December,
Can you still remember?

Do you even hear me?
There's no one around me!

Oh shadow that I see,
The void right behind me.

Yet still I am breathing;
Yet still I am feeling.

The coldest sensation,
Oh worthless creation!

Are you still crying?
Oh why are you lying - abandoned and cold

-

Cold like what was left of soul,
Made of all the life you stole.
Walk divine but made of sin,
Worm of hatred squrim within.

Sin of lust and sin of pride,
Lash the tongue that last has lied.
Yours was silver with a promise,
Kiss of death and then you vomit.

Bu

Practice Poem - Artistic FrustrationPractice Poem - Artistic Frustration:

Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Everything is wrong.
'As then sun dew drips from her eyes'-
Do I really think that'll be good enough?

Hours spent on each piece -
Punctuated only by sound of ripping paper -
To lie crumpled upon my wooden floor,
Unable to be forgotten.

As the hours pass and the day wears on,
More and more worlds are crushed by my hands.
Realities sprawled upon a single piece of paper,
To die as quickly as they are formed.

A man's whose romance is torn in two,
A vampire about to meet his prey.
A werewolf standing against an army
And a boy facing the world alone.

These are the li

My Beautiful FilthMy Beautiful Filth:

We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...

Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force

And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivance

WinterfallWinterfall:

Warm blood drips upon the pearl white snow
freezing into droplets that shine and glow
Red like the colour of his once livid cheeks
It frames the sculpture I have carved on this peak

An artwork made so terrifyingly sublime
I believe that such a thing would be condemned as a crime
But woe betide the unfortunate soul
For the poor man stumbled into the freezing cold...

I remember his features in his moment of death
Hope and despair, intermingled as one
A shine of reality as he opens the door
and steps into the hell from the days of yore

From then he has passed into my loving care
His body as a shell and so I lay it bare

An Oath to My FatherAn Oath to My Father:

The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.

A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.

I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors

Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.

Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!

Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -

Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood

Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hun

Sending Me To HellSending Me To Hell:

I close my eyes, as the black smoke fills the air.
Incense burned to create a semi-choking sensation.
A tiny inkling of the perceived suffering,
But it is enough to make this difficult...

Next, wounds are carefully opened.
Patterns carved into the flesh,
Resembling the nine circles of suffering.
As each begins to form a red river,

An ocean pools beneath my stained elbows.

In the distance I hear the cackling of witches;
Accompanied always by the mad shrieks of those beyond.
Already they can taste the red wine that I ooze
And eagerly, their tongues wag; anticipating the feast.

Concentrate...I have to concentrat

I Comfort MyselfWith a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection.

The struggles that plague me, though none may know,

Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles

Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine

I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest.

Though the silence continues to press upon me,

Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate.

Still I find comfort in whispering secrets,

If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012

Machine ManMachine Man:

It began with but a simple command, "to do as we are told".

Never to deviate from this path - never to nurture the soul.

We are told that we are given a purpose; "a part of something great!"

Yet why oh why am I so weary of that which is my fate?

Am I an error, a single anomaly, unable to feel intact?

Or am I missing some special attribute - a facet which I lack.

In a society made of fleshed machines; robots wearing skin,

Perhaps I'm simply seeking something, to fill this metal tin.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th November 2012

Immortal ButterflyImmortal Butterfly:

I remember the Immortal Butterfly
Translucent wings that drank from the sky
Glittering dust would fall with every flap
Like warm tears dripped upon my tiny back

I would always chase this butterfly
as it makes its way across the sky
When I look I feel as though I can forget
The painful needles that twist into my back

I would always dream of this butterfly
and I wonder if I could ride it and fly in the sky
When I dream about it, I don't regret
Not being able to leave this tiny bed

Sometimes I can't see the butterfly
My vision turns grey like a stormy sky
I get scared during those times, because it makes me thi

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A Tale of Pirates 3A Tale of Pirates 3:

==BATTLE SEQUENCE==

Turn: 3 (End)
Enemy: Kalkarr the Rat Fist Master
Health: ???/???
Speed: 9
To Hit: 7
Armor: 0
Null: 0, Death
Resistance: 5
Will: 5
Other Information: ???
Ailments: Bleeding (2 damage for 4 turns [physical]), Lead Poisoning (2 damage for 4 turns [poison])

Kalkarr shouts, "For too long have humans oppressed us rats. Killing us for experience points. Soon you will see, the TRUE power of the rats!" Kalkarr coughs up blood and suffers from his wounds. He takes a total of 4 ailment damage.

Chenbeard (in ghost form) replies, "Dream on ye great big rat, I'll show you the true power of HUMANS, wel

Happy MemoriesHappy Memories:

We live in moments
Recorded as memories
Happy in the past

-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th April 2012

Terror of the Red WorldTerror of the Red World:

When we first came to conquer Mars
We uncovered a darkness sealed in stone.
For endless years it waited here
On the world that we would call our own.

Through the darkest days the evil festered
Becoming a womb where the demons spawned...
And by the time we learned of them;
We were forced to greet a bloody dawn.

Men and structures
Torn apart.
Corpses lay
Like foetid art...

A horrid chant
Resounded still.
On chilling winds
That broke our will...

Awaken, Awaken, Awaken, Awaken
She who sleeps beneath the sand.
Awaken, AWaken, Awaken, Awaken
Queen who was made to rule this land.

Awaken, Awaken, Awaken,

A Viking RebornA Viking Reborn:

The Gods have called upon me
In a time when the hammer's sign.
Has fallen from the heavens
By the bloody heathen's design.

Now weeping for the children;
That will never know his name.
Odin has now sent me
To ease our inner pain.

Remember the days of old
Where once we sailed the seas.
We used to be the masters
Of the mountains and the trees.

We tamed the rushing waters
And sailed across the world.
No mortal man could match us;
Even mermaids gave us pearls!

Our strength was the very fire
That roared in the dragon's belly.
We proudly wore the scales
From the beasts in the valley.

The dreaded monsters of lege

A Tale of Pirates 2A Tale of Pirates 2:

==BATTLE SEQUENCE==

Turn: 2
Enemy: Kalkarr the Sewer Rat
Health: ???/???
Speed: 10
To Hit: 6
Armor: 0
Null: 0, Death
Resistance: 10
Will: 7
Other Information: ???

Kalkarr screams, "Eeeeeeeeghgrkghrl".

Linda rolls for initiative 7. Kalkarr moves first.

Kalkarr strikes Linda with his Scratchy Scratchy Rat Claws dealing 1 damage.

Linda remains quiet and rolls for accuracy 14(including +3 for wisdom). She attacks the Rat with her Rainbow Coloured Art. It deals 11 damage. Linda says, "Blue and black REALLY suit you."

Kristine rolls for initiative 1. Kalkarr moves first.

Kalkarr strikes Kristine with Burning R

Fury of the Frost GiantsFury of the Frost Giants:

No mortal man can stand
Against the Giants of the Frost.
For they bear the strength of ages
And the wisdom of the lost.

When first we came upon them
We were scattered by their might.
The fury of a Giant
Was a truly fearsome sight...

Cowering in fear
And waiting to be eaten.
We knew in our hearts
That we were utterly beaten.

Salvation lay behind us
In a death of blood and steel.
Yet fate would always turn
On a twisted crooked wheel.

For we found a cave of ancients
Bearing symbols of the knife.
It led us to a forge
That demanded our life.

Fourteen brothers sacrificed
Into the flames they went...

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Submitted: December 12, 2012
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I Can't Devour You, Not Yet

by *WordOfChen, Dec 12, 2012, 7:33:47 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I Can't Devour You, Not Yet:

I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.

Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...

Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!

Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire -
& body be turned to dust and ash...

If only for the chance to feast once more!

Ah, my dear - I will have you.
& on that day it will be so sweet.
But for now - I'm afraid that -
I must leave this as a mere - tantalizing - fantasy...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 12th December 2012

I Can't Devour You, Not Yetby *WordOfChen

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

If you enjoyed this piece, please take a moment to fave it ^^ That would be the greatest joy I can receive

If you'd like to hear me do some live comedy, answer questions and read poems LIVE then check out the latest two episodes of my show:

Episode 5: [link]

Episode 6: [link]

Author's Comment:

Arrr lads and lasses,

What do ye think of this poem? The backstory to it is quite interesting you see, because in order to keep up my massive amount of releases (without sufferin' writers block) I frequently have t' experiment with and DEVOUR new styles of writin'.

However, I can't adapt every single style inta me works and that sometimes leaves me feelin' very hungry...but without any sort o' reprieve.

In essence, I always attempt to dissect the style of other poets and then try t' apply it to me own works so that I can improve my writing by making it a stronger hybrid of many different styles. Poe's punctuation style, a little bit of darkness from me own soul, that kind of thing is how I write what I do.

'Owever, sometimes ye meet a poet whose style is so unique -or perhaps so opposite to yer own that - no matter how much you try you cannot stomach their style. It turns vile on your tongue and leaves ye spittin' it right back out. These types of poets are me greatest challenge and I will try time and time again t' consume their talents...but sadly it does take awhile before I can digest it completely.

Now then...who should I make me next meal eh? Any recommended...sacrifices?

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

Other Poems by Me:

You Have No Right To LiveYou Have No Right To Live:

Hey, what are you doing?
That's mine, now give it back.
You're stupid, you should just go die!

Okay, I'm sorry...

What, you failed again?
Just how much money do you think we're spending on this,
Do you think it just falls from the sky?
I can't believe you; and don't give me that look!
You better straighten up now you hear me
And if you keep looking like a dead fish,
I'm going to make you wish you were one.

I'm sorry...

Hey, being around you is driving me nuts,
You never want to do anything, you don't even care,
Why bother even breathing if you're going to act like you're dead!

I'm sorry!

You're
Pat

Other Literature by Me:

The Good Critic's GuideThe Good Critic's Guide:
'
I. Introduction:

I have noticed that many critics on DA tend to leave rather harsh and sometimes subjective critiques on the pages of the artists being critiqued. Their rationale for doing so is based on the concept that 'we shouldn't molly-coddle each other and instead "tell it like it is"'. However this type of critique reflects poorly on one who is critiquing as opposed to the one who is being critiqued and I will explain why throughout the course of this guide. In essence I hope to use this resource as a way of teaching potential critics how to properly focus their abilities and direct their critiques in a

Mercenary 1-1MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si

Critique by !Fly-gonz Dec 12, 2012, 1:09:41 PM

I'm often left wondering about the "so what" in your poems. This one isn't exactly an exception. I highly recommend you read the poem "A Healthy Meal" by Carol-Ann Duffy. She's trying to doing something very similar, she's trying to making a statement about eating meat. I'm not exactly sure what you're trying to tell me with this piece. I have some vague ideas about what you're trying to say, but your poems need to be more specific to engage your reader.

VISION: You have a clear idea of what's going on. The general atmosphere is very clear and it runs on raw emotion. I like many of the fragments, most notably: "To roll roll your meat between my tongue and teeth" and "May my wings crumble in the heart of the fire." Your scene seems very chaotic though, but maybe that's what you were aiming for, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.

ORIGINALITY: Well, I have never seen poetry like this before. You put some words and ideas together in interesting ways (your caterpillar analogy, the wings crumbling) but I don't know what effect you are trying to achieve. (More discussed in the impact section.)

TECHNIQUE: It seems that you've ditched rhythm completely. This makes for an awkward reading at times especially when you transition between sentence parts, e.g., "Numbing my senses... gormless wreck." and "despite me knowing... I'm drawn to you." Also, you need to be a little more concise. For example, the second and third paragraphs serve the same purpose; they are both comparisons to the disgusting portions of nature. Perhaps your poem can benefit by using a different comparison. There are a lot more points I can raise, but I'm approaching the point of rambling.

IMPACT: What's the take-home message for the reader? Okay, the speaker is fantasizing about feasting on something. Maybe you could look at the pain of fantasizing about it and invite the reader to reflect a similar experience. Your usage of originality and technique should support this invitation. If you choose to follow my suggestion, you change the comparison to the second stanza to a more original version of: "roses are so attractive, but they have prickly thorns." This will also make it more streamlined with your 4th stanza and conclusion.

As it stands, I'm not being engaged to think about anything. There is no impact for me. Call me heartless and un-understanding, but if you read a lot of poems, you'll know how boring it is.

Sorry for rambling.

Hope this helps.
Fly-gonz

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Critique by ~7Demented Dec 12, 2012, 8:34:06 AM

Wow. That honestly was, even though vague, spine tingling. The word choice definitely impacted how the piece was presented and the set the mood perfectly. The work is very well written, and the idea is actually very unique. The narrator, however, does not reveal his identity, but this only adds to tension, and the anonymous "girl" he is talking about is most likely his supposed victim. Furthermore, even though it doesn't rhyme, the text flows smoothly throughout the poem, and the style gives it a seemingly dark and gloomy mood. I commend you, Chen on this amazing poem. This is honestly the best one I've ever read.

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love 2 2

joy 7 7

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~noorelven Jan 7, 2013

fun

You almost sound like Lestat from that movie where he refused to turn the girl until the end of the movie ... at the same time you also sound like edward (oh the shame! ) trying to explain to bella that she has to wait

~SplitNinja Jan 5, 2013 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Sounds like a delicious dinner.xD

~xXXxWolfie-FiendXxxX Dec 31, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I love your writing style. For some reason, the more gore and despair, the more psychopathic it is, the more I adore it!

*WordOfChen Jan 1, 2013 Professional Writer

Well then you'll have t' look forward t' what comes later in January and of course what will be featured in me e-book :3

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

~KittySib Dec 16, 2012

Fascinating!

*WordOfChen Jan 1, 2013 Professional Writer

Thank ye kindly ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

P.S. my apologies fer th' late reply t' this piece. I've been swamped since mid-december

~KittySib Jan 10, 2013

~samuraishoujo95 Dec 15, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

the poem itself is pretty awesome but honestly it reminded me of twilight... kinda.... *gag*

*WordOfChen Jan 1, 2013 Professional Writer

If ye could draw a comparison t' that stuff from this...then yer mind be corrupted beyond repair. Please proceed t' the nearest re-education centre friend; so we might save yer soul from that horrid piece o' lit

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates

P.S. my apologies fer th' late reply t' this piece. I've been swamped since mid-december

~samuraishoujo95 Jan 2, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

my sincerest apologies. If only once could erase human memory like one can a computer's :\

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I Can't Devour You, Not Yet

If only for the chance to feast once more!

I Can't Devour You, Not Yetby *WordOfChen

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