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Frizzlepie Burritos
Joined: 14 Nov 2009
Posts: 434
Location: New Jersey
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 Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 2:46 pm |
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Hi there. Do we have any creative writers within the Warbears community? I know I'm one. 
If so, feel free to post anything you've written, such as poems, stories, songs, etc. Make sure it's original, meaning it's your work and your work only. We don't want some random guy's work off of the Internet. However, use common sense. Make sure it's appropriate, clean, and has absolutely no racism. If the rules aren't followed, I will ask for this topic to be locked immediately. And no bashing others, saying, 'That story is really stupid', etc. Have fun!
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Last edited by Ilovepugs on Sat Sep 25, 2010 4:22 pm; edited 2 times in total |
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Knyh Risotto
Bug Hunters Team Member
Joined: 05 Jan 2008
Posts: 2358
Location: BACKWARDS
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| Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 2:53 pm |
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I seem to remember Sheena collecting stuff for a whole group devoted to this.
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Constance Anderson
Joined: 08 Oct 2009
Posts: 1935
Location: World Hacker Organization (WHO)
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| Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 4:12 pm |
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BEHOLD,THE WORLD'S SHORTEST STORY!
Once upon a time,there was a prince name Casper. One day,he dies.
THE END |
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Leroy Simpson
Joined: 08 Dec 2009
Posts: 1968
Location: Bedtime City
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Bjorn Harlan
Quizaboom
Team Member
Joined: 20 Dec 2007
Posts: 2466
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| Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 5:12 pm |
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| Hot damn I love Creative Writing but I never give myself time to do it. |
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Pancake Smith
Joined: 05 Aug 2008
Posts: 3110
Location: America
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Globox Simpson
Joined: 19 Apr 2007
Posts: 1567
Location: The land of Köttbullar and Smörgåsbord, and epic guys with beards and hats
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| Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 6:48 pm |
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| I have a ten page story in my school computer. So, basically, I'm considered a good writer. |
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Pancake Smith
Joined: 05 Aug 2008
Posts: 3110
Location: America
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Globox Simpson
Joined: 19 Apr 2007
Posts: 1567
Location: The land of Köttbullar and Smörgåsbord, and epic guys with beards and hats
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| Posted: Sat Sep 25, 2010 7:02 pm |
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| I got an A for it, Pancake. It is in Swedish and well, I can't be bothered to translate it, but I'll do it with Google Translate some time. |
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Frizzlepie Burritos
Joined: 14 Nov 2009
Posts: 434
Location: New Jersey
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 2:50 am |
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Here is a poem I wrote in my spare time;
We Could All Hold Hands, One by One...
The world is full of violence and hate.
However there must be fate
That we could all hold hands one day
Without racism nor intolerance getting in the way.
We could all hold hands, one by one
The difference in us shouldn't matter, we are all the daughter and son
Of the same creator
This time of peace and tolerance must arrive sooner or later.
For if we could all hold hands
We all must work together and take a stand
Up against the hatred and cruel thoughts
Because the insults and cruelty haunts
The victims of intolerance everywhere
We are a species of different skin, beliefs, and hair
If the day of tolerance is soon to come
We could join together and hum
The happy tunes that we are one.
We could all dance under the same bright Sun.
Now wouldn't it be great, if this day were to come tomorrow?
There would be no more pain, hurt, and no more sorrow.
So let's take a stand, and all join hands, one by one.
Because I hope this day of peace and tolerance, is soon to come. |
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Pancake Smith
Joined: 05 Aug 2008
Posts: 3110
Location: America
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 3:05 am |
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Poetry's tricky. Sometimes people force rhymes and end up using words they never would've used otherwise or that just don't sound right, like here
"We could all hold hands, one by one
The difference in us shouldn't matter, we are all the daughter and son "
the pacing gets a bit weird
and here
"The victims of intolerance everywhere
We are a species of different skin, beliefs, and hair"
Hair is just kinda thrown in there for rhyming purposes, and it just sounds silly.
I've never understood the fascination with rhyming poems. It's nice in shorter, limerick-like poems like sonnets, but not so great in longer ones.
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"If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe."
-Carl Sagan |
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Captin Simpson
Bug Hunters Team Member
Joined: 03 Nov 2007
Posts: 4612
Location: LOVINGTON
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 1:14 pm |
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| Pancake Smith wrote: |
| I've never understood the fascination with rhyming poems. It's nice in shorter, limerick-like poems like sonnets, but not so great in longer ones. |
Agreed. I find that rhyme poems were built to keep children interested in something for more than a minute.
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Bjorn Harlan
Quizaboom
Team Member
Joined: 20 Dec 2007
Posts: 2466
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 4:48 pm |
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| Captin Simpson wrote: |
| Pancake Smith wrote: |
| I've never understood the fascination with rhyming poems. It's nice in shorter, limerick-like poems like sonnets, but not so great in longer ones. |
Agreed. I find that rhyme poems were built to keep children interested in something for more than a minute. |
I've just realised how to get Lolbear to understand my comics! |
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Wasted Lebowski
Joined: 25 Sep 2010
Posts: 2
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 8:14 pm |
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Well, my blog has some stuff I did on it..., But I can't just link you...
Prepare yourselves!
| Code: |
A Tale of Empires #1
On the island of Yukdo, a bitter conflict reigns. Koreans, in their natural habitat, are fighting to repel the Mayans; Blood thirsty, religious, maniacs, intent on expanding their empire through whatever means needed, which in their case is often that of war. High Lord Chicken_Face implored 3 Koreans villagers to begin a settlement on the northern edge of the island, suspecting that the Mayans would soon wish to annex it into their rapidly growing province. To this extent, he also sent a scout to, well, scout.
As soon as the villagers arrived, they enacted their initial orders. They constructed a mill near a few berry bushes, and herded, with the aid of the scout, some sheep into an enclosure. More villagers arrived, sent from the mainland to help their efforts. These villagers were assigned to "Food-Duty", which involved, surprisingly, gathering food. The 3 original villages felled a tree, and built a dock. From this dock they constructed many fishing boats, which would serve as their main income of food. At the end of the first 10 days, they were satisfied that all was going well, and they rested.
I recall it as it were yesterday. I was sitting in my house, nearby the north coast. I was merely relaxing, as I had been ordering the villagers to chop wood all day, and it was too hot to stand out in the sun all day. I was also waiting for the scout to return, as I had sent him on a trip to scout the whole of the island. At that very moment, I recall a loud shriek. I recognized it immediately as the call of the Scout's eagle, which I assumed meant news of some form. I rushed out of my house, to the town centre, with its pine pillars and cloth roofing "Hmm, that really needs to be fixed up a little...". Upon reaching the town centre, I found the eagle, It was dead. This meant, as I knew, that the scout had discovered Mayans, and died in his attempts to keep them from discovering us.
After the scout's death spread around the village, the villagers themselves were more wary. The fishing boats retreated their field of view, fishing only in sight of the coast. Tensions were high, the death of one so early was unheard of, even when battling the Mayans. Their new Emperor, Tommy_The_Jerk, must be a fearsome foe indeed ,they thought. Unfortunately, this thought was later confirmed... |
and
| Code: |
A Tale of Empires #2
The Island of Yukdo, 1228. The sun, in all it's eternal majesty, beats down on the the ground which, although certainly dusty, shines with the polish that many feet travelling will do to a piece of land. That is to say, rather than loose dirt and dust flying around, the ground has been beaten into submission by the passage of many people, and as a result has a bright sheen to it.
Every so often, the sun catches the edge of an axe, or the tip of a blade. The rays then bounce off said implements into the eyes of the many workers. 10 or so Korean villagers, after having breakfast in the town centre (Hm, Salmon), have began to chop wood, as they do every day. The sound of birds cawing drifts to their ears, the incessant swish swash of the waves beats endlessly on and the calls of other workers are heard. They chop the wood, because that is what they do. They are wood-choppers.
"Ay, Kurra, this'n be hard work, as usual"
"Wololo"
Conversation is rare among the workers, most preferring simply to chop wood, admiring their own fell swoops, perhaps imagining swinging their axe at the **** Mayans. Because of this, although some of them could be called friends, the community of lumberjacks is somewhat loose, no one particularly caring about each other, despite their constant shared toil.
Suddenly, a sound is heard.
"Ay, Kurra, You hear that?"
"Bildin?"
"No, sounds like..marching"
As the workers continue to , well, work, the marching sounds get nearer and nearer, eventually completely eclipsing the waves, and the workers, and the birds. The trees to the right of the lumber-yard part and a horrible sight reveals it self. 10 men-at-arms, in the garb of the Mayans, step forward. Their brows are moist with swear, their red undershirts flutter slightly in the breeze, and the sun; as if sensing something untoward, glints on their armour.
"Miaaaaaaaaaa"
They charge, pulling their swords from their holdings in perfect unison. The villagers freeze where they are, unable to comprehend the sight before their eyes. They hear the town bell ring out, bidding all workers to retreat. Most of the workers do, running to the town centre, grabbing a bow and a few arrows and taking position in the main tower. The Lumberjacks, however, do not.
Frozen on the spot, they divide into two groups. The first group, still completely lost in a maelstorm of confusion, are fairly silent as they are struck down, still unable to "get it". The second group, coincidentally those who thought they would make good soldiers, brandish their axes and charge at the enemy soldiers. The soldier's faces show a brief instant of surprise, their eyebrows raising slightly, before lowering again as they realise these villagers are STILL harmless. The second group is cut down as swiftly as the first. Their axes falling to the ground with a dull thud, the sun leaving their faces for the last time. The soldiers then move on, destroying the lumberjack yard and many of the houses around it.
For those still in refuge within the town centre, it seems like the end is nigh... |
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Susanna Harlan
Joined: 24 Mar 2008
Posts: 451
Location: Ponyville
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| Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 9:02 pm |
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| i have loads of ideas but havent gotten round to doing anything with them. i'll have to try and write a story sometime =p |
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