Krista? / Comments

thanks so much for the poem comment!!

aww why thank you :D

in America, yes
but not in florida

I hear florida's amazing.
Are you there now?

Manila is where I am now.
so you're with your mother now?

yupp.
halfway around the world to where you are.
oh so you're half filipino?

Really?
2 in the afternoon here.
xD

thank you for the story comment.
I like making people go [i]Awww[/i]
lol

No prob.
Well it's daylight here.
Is it night over there?

thanks for the comment on my poem :)

this is an obligatory thanks, of course, but thank you. if you find something i've written to be good, i'd like it if you shared it with your friends, spread it so internet poets can redeem themselves as real, talented contenders--even against the sacred cows like Poe, like every other person who likes only poetry that's been out of date for 50 years. So, i don't know how many people on this site make a living from writing poetry, but that's my primary means of income. so, share it. i post online around the time i'm about to release a new publication as a way to generate interest, but it's not a ploy if i'm not lying or falsifying any claims of quality. i should probably give my .357 a blowjob because I can't say what I mean without looking like a dick. basically: if you like it, really like it, introduce it to other people. see if they like it.
this has been a standard thank you for the comment commercial brought to you by Starving Artists, Inc. :P

heyyyyy im actually on mibba.... (:
from like the longest timee right. well yes i just wanted to mibba you and tell you that i have a new poem for you.. wnt you to hear it

http://poem.mibba.com/135313/Willow

best poem of my life

I'm done with _my attempt_ at writing the silent circle, without dumbing it down for teachers, changing up my style, and if you want to read it, send me a message. i dont post my best works on this site. how else am i going to sell books? don't take that the wrong way. i'm not "in it for the money" ... however my son doesn't eat because people praise me on the internet. the collection of poems i have scheduled to come out in late december/early january contains 75 poems, 32,000 words, 300 pages, and, compared to those, the works (with exception to the trilogies) are, to me, poor examples of my work. in order to demonstrate ability, first you have to show mediocrity and within the mediocrity show a glimpse of greater skill, then once one is aware that the occasional blip of greatness actually covers 300 pages, they don't buy it because they like me. they buy it because they enjoy it. i write for a living, so don't (please) question my integrity regarding the withholding of poems of quality just to sell more books.

in it's final draft, the name has been changed from the silent circle to willow. you'll understand when you read it. and--again, to be frank--i don't much care for comments. interpretation and critical analysis means more to me than ego petting. don't be suckered in by "shallow depth"--i.e., attempting to be deep is shallow, what is deep makes no claims to its profundity.

You like my poems? -jumps around excitedly- Yay! Did you leave any comments? I like comments!!


Loveless is....flipping awesome. It's very deep. There are lots of philosophical questions and tons of symbolism and.....it's just all around profound. (For example, it delves into the power of words, like the spoken word, and how we use them to make changes in the world around us.) I love that sort of thing. The main character, Ritsuka, is adorable. Completely, totally, heartbreakingly adorable. Each character delves into different levels of humanity, mostly the dark parts. Ritsuka is 'Heartbreak.' He's very 'Emo' for the first few volumes....but he gets over it. There's also a (violent and disturbing) murder mystery to solve, battles of spells, and villains that are just as amazing as the main character! (My fav character is actually considered by Ritsuka to be a villain...)


Ummmm....If I could give any advice, read past the first volume. It's completely confusing...which is okay, because Ritsuka is confused, too! ^.^ You should read the manga first, because there's more story there than the Anime uses, but the Anime keeps all the symbolism and stuff....plus, Ritsuka's voice is adorable!


Gah!! Don't ask me about Loveless! I won't shut up! -runs away in panic and shame-

Yay! New anime to watch! -dances-


E.

contact me on yahoo or myspace or something. i dont really come to this site often and the only reason i've been coming lately was to check for messages from you

www.myspace.com/hemo_botep -- add me.

there was a group of ugly people on a bus on their way to a conference. the bus wrecked and all died and stood before the gates of heaven. the first person in the line approached st. peter and st. peter told him he had one wish he could make before he went into heaven. the man said 'i wish to be beautiful' st. peter nodded and the man was beautiful. he walked through the gates. the second man approached st. peter and st. peter gave him one wish. he too wished to be beautiful, and st. peter nodded and he went into the gates. the next three people he asked wished for the same thing... and when it was almost the last man's turn, he started laughing at the back of the line.

when he got to the front st. peter asked him what he wished and the man said: make 'em all ugly again.

I've been working on "Brandonizing" that truncated short story, to turn it into something I'll have no need to defend. Add me on yahoo: crimsonhatred. don't worry, I made that when I was 15 too.

I forgot that there is one more poem on this site that I'd consider one of my better works (again, it's long): http://poem.mibba.com/93697/Bye-the-Blankets-Wave

That [The Silent Circle] was never intended to be a poem. I was asked to write a short ghost story by my younger sister. She's in college and I do a lot of her creative writing assignments. Her teacher seems to be a huge fan of my sister's work, haw haw. As I was saying: the only reason I posted that truncated segment of some confusing sort of dream, to be honest, was because I wrote it on the back of a cardboard box in the bungalow (a place where I go to sit with my telescope, lay back in a bean bag, and smoke opium) and typed it up on my friends computer and posted it here so I could work on it at home. I'd forgotten it was even on here. It's not one of my better poems ... because it's not a poem, though I will defend the concept behind it, the inability to communicate, a disconnect between two regretful mourners unable to apologize to the ghosts of one another--I thought it was strangely touching, and the first draft was a lot weirder. The devil was talking through the radiator, he [the father] arranged a bundle of knives around his son one night while he slept, and there was a scene where the old man gagged the child on a roll of toilet paper. My sister insisted that material be removed. It's truncated and has lost it's impact--but I defend the merits of it's concept, while I do not defend it's execution. Think of it as allegory, a man gone mad trying to tune back in to the voice of God--is that not the perfect image of the modern man? With his digital dials forever attempting to find the proper frequency for clarity and redemption? I'm not trying to convince you to like it. I'm just giving you my perspective regarding it's construction and intent.

I admire your honesty, and to honor your honesty, I'll turn that odd little story, restoring the original truncated elements, into something I would be happier to defend: an attempt at poetry, "like my others" -- don't take that as a backhanded platitude of ironic appreciation, or as though I presume an insult on your behalf, to the contrary: I doubt you mean that in disrespect, rather an inkling that surmises the high standards to which you hold to, which my other work has set the bar for. To me it seems as though you hold my work in high regard and can tell--dramatically--when I'm not in my element, when I'm not at the top of my game, and that means, to me, that you can see what my potential really is. That's what's flattering, to know that you can see it, to know that you don't arbitrarily appease me to carry favor or obligation, yet you, in your confession, admit a sort of admiration for my other work. I agree with you.

The only poems I have posted here that I hold to high esteem are the two trilogies: The Sea Saw None, which includes: The Glass Umbrella, The Lost Soliloquy, and Footprints of the Fall, and the Echoes of the Sun, which includes: Apparitions of a Dead Tomorrow, The Death of Dawn, and the Eulogy for the Sun. All the other works I've posted here, by comparison, are trifles, and to put so much work into those trilogies is to set a certain standard by which my work is judged. I believe it is easier to appreciate my ability when you compare a work as the Silent Circle to a work like The Death of Dawn or the Glass Umbrella, because in those works you see me on the threshold of attaining, or at least approaching, my full potential. To be honest, not many of the major poets of the world wrote their masterpieces when they were my age [24] so I'd like to think that if I continue to improve as much over the next 5 years as I have over the last, I might be capable of something quite exceptional. I have a great deal of my older poems hosted on a wordpress site (except for the best of them, which I try to reserve for publication) and you can see my evolution as a beginner poet [age 5] up to my current state. www.brandonknobles.wordpress.com. Compare the works of mine from 5 years ago to the best of my works now and hopefully you'll see what I hope I haven't duped myself into believing: I'm not even close to reaching my full potential. Not by a long shot.

If you have AIM, MSN, or Yahoo! I'd much rather talk to you through those channels due to their rapidity. AIM: sLLencL0 (that's a zero at the end), Yahoo: crimsonhatred. MSN: brandonknobles@charter.net. As soon as you contact me through one of those mediums, if you can, I'll take the story as it is and improvise a poem based on it, and work with it until we're in agreement that it's up to the standards I would like to hold myself against, as I would like to believe my readers do as well. I appreciate your distaste. I almost typed "fans" instead of "readers," once again proving that we are all on the cusp of vanity at all times, and that is to be purged. The power of art is the power of truth, beneath the make up and the dazzle, there's an awkward, Earthy, savagery to the best of human works that against the wind are screams. When an author invites you into his space, fixes you squarely in his range, and shakes you from your apathy, who engages you with form and meaning, with tonal beauty, eloquent lyricism, and the most sublime lament--when you find an artist capable of this, and they invite you to their room, pull up a chair. Enjoy the show.

I look forward to hearing from you.
Dasvidania ya pahdrooga, Krista. Isn't it a bitch that English is my second language? :P I should've stuck to Russian. Anyway, ya sebya nekhorosho chuvstvuyu!