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Other Literature Matsu's Word Hole

Matsu

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A poem. Read into it what you like.

The first glance was made and I saw,
that ivory field trimmed with rampant sapphire.
A place where I fit, all snug and secure
as a key in a lock.

I have grown older now
and been long since removed from that lock,
though I still jangle about with other keys
that fit that lock.

I think the half decade spent growing
has changed me fundamentally.
Though decidedly still a key
I don’t quite seem to fit in this new lock.
 
These are really good why didn't I know about this thread earlier
I wrote a poem about a girl. Are we noticing a common theme yet?

Like a far-off star, she burned
with a light that drew all near.
All who saw her did revere,
though all their love she spurned.
Of fragile hearts, she was unconcerned
for love was, to her, a strange frontier.
Passion was not within her sphere,
with the whims of the heart she was unconcerned.

She knew her light would fade one day
so, she waited for one who would not chase her for a lark,
one who would love her as a shade of gray.
She waited for one who would not betray,
and when she smoldered in the dark
one who would love her anyway.
so that's why we broke up

And now for something with much more levity. @Jetstream ∞

Jetstream can write a,
haiku yes he truly can;
but not very well.
See that's sort of how everything in my life goes
 

Matsu

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Staff member
Moderator
Two more poems. Back to new formalist trash because stylistic want/A E S T H E T I C.

Your roots, buried dark and deep,
within the solemn earth.
The temperament of that earth would seep
into you and linger, a curse.

Your trunk, gnarled and scarred,
bears a thousand stories.
Many have known you and carved within
initials and markings of love and glory.

Your heartwood, hidden and guarded,
is kept inside where none may see.
Though some would claim to know your garden
they have only seen what you let be.

But hidden deep in your leaves and branches
is the secret fruit of your wanted romances.

Like flint and striker,
when we touch sparks always fly
and things start to burn.

The wick catches flame,
burning with a bright passion.
But the fuel runs out.

Others can see through
and watch the fuel burn away;
but we are blinded.

Hidden in the shroud
unknowing of the flame’s life
until it is out.
 

Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
More poems, because it's always poems. I can already confirm that I don't like the ending couplet of this one.

Too-small wings beat at the air,
defiant in the face of cruel gravity,
all to ensure larval welfare.

That warning drone causes all to flee.
Stripes of burnt-umber and goldenrod
promise the incautious a fury.

Pollen, that sweet nectar, brought back by the wad.
The hypnotizing tremble dance of royalty
directs each and every squad.

The hive, an abbey
built to please that godly queen,
with every waxen hexagon built sharply.

And when the cold wipes all the flowers clean
they will wait to rebuild when it’s green.
 

Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
More poems. It's only poems. Always. Only.

The hay(na)ku form was a new experiment for me. It's an interesting form, excited to see what else I can do with it beyond this simplistic piece.
Reminder:
New shirt,
remove one sleeve.

Though unintentional this gwawdodyn is about a slightly spoop topic, suitable for the day I'm posting this I guess. This is also a new form for me, I'm a sucker for syllabic forms so I really dig it.
Flowing. A fierce vermillion deluge,
carrying an iron payload. Smooth
voyages its only wish. Those clannish
distinctions it makes have no refuge.
 
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Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
This is also a
new form for me, I'm a suck
er for syllabic

did I do it right?
"Choosing to have your line break cut off a word is an interesting stylistic choice. In revision try ending line two with a compound word (cannot, firefly, softball, etc.), it would help things flow more easily and would lead to some interesting interpretations based on how one reads the lines.

In addition subverting the typical nature theme of a haiku is a safe play when trying to inject new formalist elements, though may I suggest going even more out of the norm by maybe including a technological/industrial theme."

And that kids, is what I've spent 4 years learning how to do.
 

『Voltear』

Skeletron Prime
"Choosing to have your line break cut off a word is an interesting stylistic choice. In revision try ending line two with a compound word (cannot, firefly, softball, etc.), it would help things flow more easily and would lead to some interesting interpretations based on how one reads the lines.

In addition subverting the typical nature theme of a haiku is a safe play when trying to inject new formalist elements, though may I suggest going even more out of the norm by maybe including a technological/industrial theme."

And that kids, is what I've spent 4 years learning how to do.
 
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Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
It is actually only poems anymore. Expect change next semester maybe.

Anyway, it's a lune. Also known as the American haiku, a good quick form for if you hypothetically need a poem for class tomorrow while the combination of midterms and various Pathfinder campaigns have ground your free time to nil. Have fun.

sand grains have no legs
but manage
to get everywhere
 

Matsu

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Staff member
Moderator
Can confirm, it will still be poems next semester.

So it's a shadorma. Spanish, syllabic, fun times. Yes I will try to remember to actually link info about the forms from now on.

The die rolls,
a rumbling cannon.
The number
shows me how
this fake life will go tonight.
Please let me roll high.
 

Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
Two poems.

A tanka, like a haiku but longer.
I sit here watching
as cars and sand go rushing.
Down roads they travel,
some through choices of their own,
others just blown by the wind.

And a lanturne, another Japanese form that uses not just syllabics, but shaping.
Yet
wonder
and good hope
leave me. They are
smoke.​

Also a piece of free-verse oddly enough. This was for an assignment to mimic the poetic style of another student in the class as chosen at random. I'm actually quite proud of how this turned out.

The sunrise was drowned in blood and stained forever,
With a truth that the criminals deny to this day.
For over thirty long years we have had to remember what happened
In those years of gunfire and hatred against a people that did nothing
To deserve any of it. We are bent by the weight of suffering
From generations passed, but we are not broken. We will rise
Stronger than ever, filled with the knowledge
That we are more than a land ravaged, we are
A people that has survived.
 
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Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
Free verse, how novel. Not super Valentine's related, so consider the date coincidental; if you want a Valentine's poem I have one on the OP somewhere.

Sickly saccharin stench
of synthetic roses
fill the halls
with their cloying miasma.

Canines one and two sit in silence,
decidedly off the furniture.
The whisperrush of nails on cracked tile
the only noise they make.

Brother doffs his posture
of feigned illness, sickness
being little more than a game
he plays with his own mind.

The booming cannon of father’s
voice is silenced by the too patient
and too knowing smile
of that woman.
 
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Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
Free verse again. Chapbook coming soon by the way.

Asphalt barrel,
rifled with skid marks.
Launches a rainbow
of two-ton steel
shells laden with those
seeking to get away or
those with jobs to do.
 

Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
As the culminating project of my creative writing major I was made to create an actual physical chapbook containing my best revised pieces of work created over the course of the whole major. This is the following chapbook, presented in the form of a series of images to preserve the formatting of the poems. The cover art was made by the lovely and talented @Suweeka .





















Disregard that I should have posted this about two weeks ago.
 

Matsu

Moderator
Staff member
Moderator
It's uh...been a while. I need to update this thing more, yadda yadda, I've done this before. I wrote a poem again as a spur of the moment thing, it is very rough and I am aware of that; such is the consequence when you don't have access to a poetry workshop multiple times a week anymore. It's free verse, but all tercets so it's not formless per se.
A languid Summer
cloaked by the miasmatic
haze of apathy.

At the edges of my mind,
the parts age-frayed like an old book,
I wondered if I would return.

To a mistress with whom
a too-long dalliance
had been floundered through.

I tell myself that I enjoyed time
spent in ever smaller crowds
reading scrawled the night before lines.

But now when I think of reengaging
for my own sake, rather than that of academia,
I wonder if I loved her at all.

In other news, expect narrative (read: prose) stuff in the near-ish future; assuming you're into that.
 

Matsu

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Staff member
Moderator
Considering that I set out to write poetry as a means of expressing emotions, I should do it more often than I do. But who has the time am I right? Anyway, have a free verse thing. It's admittedly kinda twee, whiny, and existential crisis-y but whatever, sometimes you need to write that kind of thing.

a pane of clearest glass
made opaque as any stone

a room once a haven
now akin to a gibbet

so much of life planned
but the plans have run short

surely a caterpillar knows
when to shed earthly tethers

does it know what to do
once it is alone and aloft?

In other news, can confirm prose is still happening and will be here in around two weeks. It's long enough that I might need to break it over two posts, we will have to see.
 
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