None

I’m tired, but I do not sleep.

I sleep, but I am not tired.

I dream, but I have none.

I have none, but I dream.

The Girl – By O. Ryder

She wished that she could fade away,

Like the petals that decay

And become like dust

Upon the shelves of homes

And through the pages she would roam.

A lingering scent she might be

Amongst secrets of the wardrobe,

or within the old Curiosity Shop.

From each one she would hop,

And find herself on a train

That would run and she’d wonder

If I stay will they notice or remember?

Will my story be told if I hide in the pages?

Shall I be swept away by many imaginations,

Only to lose sight of reality,

And forget how paper cuts once made me bleed?

Then that longing to be evanescent,

Faded along with the thought

And the girl found she’d rather her story was not forgot.



Poem By O. Ryder.

March 16th, 2016.

 

Rejection Letter

So I received the dreaded rejection letter, which included no feedback from the editing board. I know right? Annoying.

My Dad seemed pretty concerned that I would forever be discouraged from writing, and so he had Mom call me. Last time he did that was when he thought I was upset over a breakup. I told him I wasn’t angry at least three times before my Mom called me the next day to ask about the rejection.

“I’m not mad. A little disappointed, but otherwise I don’t care. At least I tried.” I told her, while standing in the basement of the library.

“Good. You don’t wanna let things like that get to you.”

And that was that.

I understand why my Dad worries about me, but when it comes to the things that I love there is nothing that can discourage me enough to stop. I couldn’t possibly stop…my work is an extension of who I am. I’m a writer. I write.

There are people who get hundreds of rejections on a single work before it gets published. It isn’t the end of the world.

“Don’t let your dreams be dreams.”  — Shia LaBeouf.

–R.


Yes, I used to watch shows about Pharaoh’s playing children’s card games….

Poetry Festival Contest

Originally posted on POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. : Deadline February 15th. Submit a poem that’s about something DARK and get it made into a movie. Accepting any poetry in any genre or length that’s about DARKNESS in any way. All poems will be…

via DARK Poetry Contest (Winner gets poem made into film) — WILDsound Writing and Film Festival Review

Thought some of you guys might be interested in entering this contest!

–R.

Confidence, Caution and Publishing

Hola,

I haven’t blogged in a while because I was on vacation. I had taken advantage of being able to schedule blog posts before I left. I’m also recovering as I came down with a fever during my vacation.

So…I’m sort of battling with myself right now. I have the opportunity to have my work published in a collection, however, I’m not sure what it is I want to submit and if what I submit will be accepted. I also am uneasy about having my name on my work…as I always write using a penname. I guess I just don’t want people to judge me.

It has to be work I haven’t previously published…and I don’t know if what I have is honestly any good. I suppose I’m lacking confidence. I can only say that I’ve written two short stories that I’m actually satisfied with…and as for my poetry, I’ve been told it’s good. I find that it is sometimes very corny or very depressing though.

I’ve never really known myself to be so…insecure. I just don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t doubt that my work will be selected…it’s just that the work I choose to submit will have a reflection on me as a person, and that is what concerns me. I don’t always write about myself, especially when it comes to my poetry. More recently, yes, I have been writing more personal poems, however they are not under my real name. My nickname is R, yah, but only my family would recognize that.

Perhaps I’m over thinking this…I haven’t actually entered my work into anything since I graduated from high school. It’s been three years. I mean…I’m going to be publishing my novel soon. I’m going to have to publish my work eventually. I just feel…uneasy. I want to do it, but something is preventing me from making a move. Maybe I’m being too cautious?

–R.

Playing Music

Singing lullabies in darkness,

To lure out our weakness.

We whisper lyrics gentle,

and warm like a candle.

Wanting to reach one another with words,

by singing like the birds.

Searching for a lyrical muse,

To string the sounds we don’t now how to use.


 

Hello again,

I finally finished the majority of my exams and assignments, so I thought that I’d take the time to chill. Write a little poetry.

Majoring in English can be a bit of a pain sometimes, since I love to read and write but I’m forced to read and write so much, to the point where it’s draining. Sad huh? Oh well, come Monday I’ll be free to do as I like for a little while. That’ll be nice.

Until next time,

— R.

Then Silence

From within the shrill scream there was silence.

Silence pulled the trigger—

Bam!

Shot dead, straight into the head—

And was there in the end.

Still shrieking in darkness,

Blood bubbling but never reaching,

The thoughts ceased and the body released,

And the legs trembled,

And there were violent gasps for breath.

“Air! I need air!”

In a whirl of emotion,

Where there is no place to grasp.

No safety.

Only screaming,

Then silence.


O. Ryder.

Nov. 27th, 2016.