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Writen Art Page
Tuesday, 20 July 2004
We probably wouldn?t worry about what people think of us
if we could know how seldom they do.
- Olin Miller
Depend on the rabbit's foot if you will,
but remember it didn't work for the rabbit.
- R.E. Shay
People get so in the habit of worry that if you save them from drowning and put them on a bank to dry in the sun with hot chocolate and muffins, they wonder whether they are catching cold.
- John Jay Chapman
Monday, 19 July 2004
Epitaph/Suicide/Depression/Sad Poems
Could I but give you comfort in my death,
How might I tell you what you meant to me?
All I did, both night and day, was love you,
Rulers of my kingdom and my heart.
Like gods, at last you claimed my painful breath,
Opening the door to mystery,
The final gift of all the gifts you gave me,
Taking what I could no longer give you
Even if I tried with all my art.
By Dimitri Shostakovich
Remember not the pathos of our plight
Or the tears of our too-youthful end.
Mourn us not, for we became a light,
Eden shining still through deathless night,
On all who first pure love would comprehend.
Judge us not, although we chose to die,
Undone by beauty such as few have known,
Love so perfect one could not reply
In words less meteoric than its own.
Each life must wend its way towards death and pain.
Though we died young, our story will remain.
By William Byrd
Do believe I'll never leave you:
Always I'll be in your heart.
Don't forget my soul is near you,
And so we'll never be apart.
By G.P. da Palestrina
You taught me how to love you by
The way that you loved me;
And by your unseen sustenance,
To see what you could see.
You gave to me through who you were
The gift of what I am.
Your pride in me is now my pride;
Your faith, my caravan.
Your life does not conclude with death,
Nor will it end with mine,
For all the lives I touch, you touch,
And so on through all time.
Can't you see? Don't you care
I want to die?
Don't you listen? Can't you hear
My silent cry?
Won't you turn? Can't you hold
Me to your heart?
Are you afraid of what might follow
Once you start?
Would you rather not believe
I'm in such pain
That all your sense and good advice
Must be in vain?
Would you rather tell yourself
I'll be OK,
And all this adolescent angst
Will go away?
Ah! Would I also swim across
This lake alone!
But if you cannot swim with me,
I know I'll drown.
By Dimitri Shostakovich
There's beauty in the barest breath of sunshine,
Wasted on all but those who know despair.
Each wound turns passions just a bit more grey,
Not adding new nor taking old away,
Trading joy for something far less fair,
Yet turning grace to something far more fine.
For such, there is a winding of the way
In which a bleakness, soon become a sign,
Vividly undoes the dying day,
Evoking longings one can hardly bear.
By William Byrd
To say goodbye's impossible forever,
And yet we must too soon exchange goodbyes.
No magnitude of love when someone dies
Can manage the immensity of never.
Yet even death cannot our friendship sever
Though you may rest somewhere beyond our sighs
And all the talk of afterlife be lies.
Eternity is our brief glimpse of ever.
Even as each breeze must alter time
And each unruly rock reshape the sea,
So love lasts beyond our consciousness.
Each pulse of life's a piece of the sublime,
A breath so full of grace it cannot be,
A wave that ripples endlessly through darkness.
By Dimitri Shostakovich
Thursday, 15 July 2004
Two men sit comfortable in a office looking over a room with at least 200 people working there. The first man picks up a cut and swishes it then takes a drink. He points down at the workers and says. "See him? He is Jon he has been working here since he was 19. He is one of my best workers." The other man looked down on all the men trying to figure out witch one he was pointing at. "Do you mean that man in the brown shirt and glasses?" the man asked, a bit confused. "Yes" The other man quickly replied as he sat down is drink and continues to look down on all his workers. The other man looks again at Jon, "He looks to be a bit old. how old is he? The man questioned. The other man chuckled as he replied "He is 43 he has been working here for so long. he doesn?t even have a family...but he has made me so much money." The other man gasped, "That is horrible!...but I guess that?s how business goes.
Down at Jon?s work space Jon worked like always. He always worked everyday. On his days off he just sat around his house. As Jon typed on the computer his mind started to wonder. For the first time in many years he started to think of his old high school girl friend and all his old friends he had. Today he had no friends. All the co-workers kept away from him. He thought about his parents that he hadn?t seen in a very long time. He wondered if they where dead and why they hadn?t contacted him. He thought of his phone. The only calls he got were ads that he just hung up on. Jon looked up at the main office, the place he was wasting his life for. To him it just seemed like a dark window in the wall. He stood up and looked around him. His workspace was just as it was when he first got there but with more papers. Something flashed in his mind. He quickly looked through all the papers, throwing them on the ground. After throwing just about all the papers on the ground he found a old picture. It was of him and his friend right before they got out of high school. He thought about each one as a tear came to his eye. He fell to his knees and sat there for at least 20 minutes before he got up and walked out.
ending 1
As he left the doors of the building he thought about killing them all. Killing his boss for wasting his life. Then he thought of him mom. His mom was always so nice even to mean people. So he just kept walking. After a mile or so he seen a bar. So he walked in. He set down on a stool and laid his head down. Hours later a girl woke him up. His vision was blurry as he woke up. It was dark out. Then his vision cleared. He looked at the girl who woke him. It was his old girlfriend. A smile come over his face as he hugged her.
ending 2
As Jon walks out the door he thinks about killing everyone. especially his boss for wasting his life. he walks along the street as he plot how to kill them all. He bumps into a post drop box. Then he leans against it. It seemed to be a sign. A gun shop was right in front of him. And his bank behind. An evil smile came over his weathered face. He stumbles toward the back with great anticipation the smile on his face from cheek to cheek. He has a quick pace across the large street not even looking where he is going. He starts to let off small chuckles as the plan becomes clear to him. He would get a gun with a silencer and go to work with the gun and ask to see the boss. He would walk in and shake his hand with a smile then sit down and tell him than he quits. He would pull out the gun and shoot him in the head and watch as he slides down the wall with a trail of blood behind him. Then he would go through the office and kill random people. Just to watch them squirm. He let of a evil laugh as he thought about it. He took another step as a truck ran him down ripping him into two pieces. His legs got stuck on the truck as his body rolled away with a slime. Until it stopped. The man in the truck ran to him. He was dead with a smile.
To Kill or Not to Kill
By: Kuroi Ryu
Sunday, 11 July 2004
Blurry Vision
A blurry image of a man was leaning against her dresser. He seemed to be scared. He became more blurry and started to get farther away. The image pulled out a silver shining object. At that moment he seemed to become more confident. A very loud muffled voice echoed in her head. She laid down on what was a vary big soft surface. The man put the object to her head, she shook as she feared for her life. There was seemingly no reason but she feared as she never feared before. She noticed a long blurry object on the ground. She quickly grabbed for it and swung it at the blurry figure. She could hear the loud crack and a sound that seemed to be wood breaking. The blurry figure fell to the ground and raised his hand in the air. The object gleaming in the moon light. An awakningly loud noise went off as time seemed to slow down for the girl. A small silver object was flinging towards her. She was frozen. She shook violently as she could do nothing. Soon the silver object was between her eyes. The already blurry room seemed to become a black smudge. As she felt the object sink into her skull and her falling to the ground. She quickly sat up in her bed gasping for air. With tears in her eyes. The moon was shining on her bed through the open window. A shadow created a human figure on the bed. She looked up and saw a man leaning on the dresser seeming to be in fear.
By:Kuroi Ryu
The Dull Pain of Death
My heart constantly cries and mourns
I feel the dull aching pain deep inside my chest
it seeps through my veins
and into my fist
I feel the Anger ragin inside me
I hit the wall but the pain doesn't flinche or fade
I curl up in a ball on my floor and cry with no tears
all my tears gone from crying for days on ens
I still feel the dull pain racing through my blood and back into my hands
I need to release it to bleed it out
I pick up the blade
I remember the screaming as i press the jagged edge against my wrist
harder and harder
until i feel the stinging as my skin tears apart
and the warmth of the blood as it runs down my hands
and drips of my shaking fingers
on to the floor
I feel light headed and dizzy
I sink down and fall to my side on to the ground below
I feel the dull pain
I cry harder with tears of red
I gag then vomit the acid from my stomach
with my last bit of energy I scream out your name
the room spins so I shut my eyes and whisper:
why, you all I had. Why?
I feel my last breath escape me
my heart slows to a stop
my soul flys free
my mind to peace.
W.R.
Come back to me, lull me with the touch of forgotten caresses,
One warmdream clad about with a fire as of life that endures;
The delight of thy face, and the cound of thy feet, and the wind of thy tresses,
And all of a man that regrets, and all of a maid that allures.
For thy bosom is warm to my face, and profound as a manifold flower,
Thy silence as music, thy voice as an odour that dies in a flame;
Not a dream, not a dream is the kiss of thyy mouth, and the bountiful hour
That makes me forget what was sin, and would make me forget were it shame.
Thine eyes thaat are quiet, thine hands that are tender, thy lips that are loving,
comfort and cool me as dew in the dawn of a moon like a dream;
And my heart yearns baffled and blind, moved vainly towards thee, and moving
As the refluent seaweed moves in the languid exuberant stream.
Swinburne
The bloody knife drips red wine
The tears of the fallen will collide
My hollow heart empty inside
Weeps to you, go home tonight
I breathe in death out as life
My shivering body silent at your side
Tomorrow I promise, It will be alright
Forgive me for I've wasted your demise
Into the shadows I will reside
Sleep now I leave your sight
Beckon me in and I shall come
Hold me still the morning sun
W.R.
Sonnet 109
O never say that I was false of heart.
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify
As easy might I from myself depart.
As from my soul. which in thy breast doth lie.
That is my home of love: if I have ranged
Like him that travels I return again.
Just to the time, not with the time enchanged.
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe, though in my nature reigned
All frailies that besiege all kinds of blood.
That it could so prepsterously be stained
To leave for nothing will thy sum of good-
For nothing this wide universe I call.
Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all?
William Shakespeare
Sparkling tears upon her face
take her in my warm embrace
then her tears will fade away
in my arms no life can stay
Debra L. Schartz
Oh thou, that didst with Pitfall and with Gin
Beset the road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with Predestination round
Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to sin?
Omar Khayyam
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