Yukio's ForestTitle:Yukio's forestPoem: #3Date: 21/4/08/MondayYukio;As her feet glide above the snowy ground;Her movement-svelte and graceful;She looks about the bulrush and aroundat the snowy trees, turned into dry-rot.She looks at all those lifeless beings that surround her.Yukio;A soul-less being- just like those surroundings;Her silver eyes-hazy and damp without any feelings;Her face, pale as the winter snowflakes that fall.Pale, like her cold hands, feet and skin: allhidden by her kimono-faded;Just like all those memories heldby that forest around her.Memories of a distant past, a storyof years and years ago,Winds
MagnoliumTitle:MagnoliumPoem: #6Date: 16/09/08 TuesdayShe walks towardsthe magnolia tree-Witheredby troubles.Her eyes disclose tears-Intens from herConstant miseries.She cries for her familyShe cries for herselfShe cries because she seesThe crocodile tears ofthose she once believed:Those she considered her own.She sits dow on the grassBeside the magnolia's trunk,Wilting away along with her tired soul.Her lips are paleLike winter's nimbuses.She prays for rain to wash awayHer cursed life.Her broken spirit scatteredLike the millions of stars above her.She looks at them-the nocturnal stars.Their sparkle
Black RosesTitle: Black RosesPoem: #2Date: 05/02/08/TuesdayI see death and aversionFrom my window sill.I hide fom them;the influx of grim, inhuman feelings.Isee the goresfrom my body, flowingall the more;growing with my every breath.My hatred, timeless, grows;But it is still no matchfor the malevolent blows I recieved from my life.I watch the dry-rot beside me-Wasting away helplessly.Isee the holocaust from mywindow sill. I long for the halcyoncastelated by life and honour.So surreal;But now I am reduced to a mere cat's paw:Crestfallen and hushed up,Drudging along; meaninglesslyDragging my heart along.
NightshadePoem: #7Date: 28/04/09 TuesdayHer body is frigid;Frigid and alone.She steps outside;Outside into the sun.The sun that warms her;Warms her with lightthat blinds her.Blinds her till she absorbsand then reflects.The sun burns her likea million torches set around.It renders her powerless butshe flees with little.Her body is not scorched.She steps into it-Into the moonlit balcony.The high balcony with the cool breeze.A dulcet breeze that clams.It clams her skin thatwas peeling away. It calms her nerves thatAre over-wraught with distress.The moon that glows brighterAnd the breeze that blows harder;
A Guide To PencilsAs kids, most of us learned to hold up a pencil and draw the thing inside of our heads to show our parents, teachers and friends. This then moved into writing as we got older, and drawing became more of a ‘talent’. At this point that we feel the need for greater control over our drawings, and suddenly, our regular HB pencils are not enough anymore. This is really where all these complicated grades of pencils come in. I’m not claiming to be an expert on drawing, but I do understand graphite, charcoal and pastel and how they tend to work with the paper. So here’s a small guide to help you get started:1. Inside the pen