Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 51: Poem "Tempted by Forces Damned"


Merry Christmas, everyone.

Believe it or not, that's still completely accurate to say since it is still the Christmas season, though I will confess myself chuffed. I seemed to have gotten into proper Christmas spirit from the 27th to the 29th and I was finally able to relax from my problems, but now they're back. Damn anxiety. Anyway, seeing as how this is New Year's Eve, Happy New Year as well though I confess myself not excited for 2018. 2017 felt great, but 2018 feels like sh*t.

Anyway, before 2017 ends, I wanted to do one more "daily" writing exercise poem. This one is actually an edited version of the one I wrote for Day 48, although it still doesn't feel finished. I only feel like I have half it, but perhaps I can birth forth the rest of it. I also don't know what style of poem it is as it's a mixture of different things.

As for whether or not I'm going to continue doing daily writing exercises, at this time, I don't know. My anxiety and depression has hit hard, and I don't feel like doing them any longer. I feel it more necessary to focus on my other writings while trying to get a job. Plus, I want to experiment with my blog a little and branch out into other topics. So, we'll see what happens.

The Poem:

Tempted by forces damned,
To put my desires under command,
To use their powers dark,
Regardless of how my soul is mark'd.

With needs unmet,
   suffering for my art,
     poetry is born,
        art from adversity--the great irony.

Material is immaterial,
Goods are superfluous,
In the world, but not of.

Master passion greed is not,
Master passion desire is to be
Operatic Liberty

Forsaken by the Lord,
Suffering under faith, hope, and charity,
Tempted by forces dark,
Despite how I may be mark'd,
To use their command
And achieve my desires damned.

Forswear God to vow to Satan
To forswear the world and end my misery;
What great irony,
Deliver myself to the Deceiver
To be delivered from his deceptions.

What a wretched wastrel I have become...

***
 
Well, it's not great... Seriously, it's not quite what I want, but it's pretty close. Closer than it was a few minutes ago. It's amazing what a few simple changes can do to a piece of poetry. But anyway, if you're a little confused, it's meaning is pretty much this: I've been praying to God and hoping for some kind of deliverance from my problems, it's not happening, so I've been thinking about turning elsewhere to get what I want. But what's ironic about that is that if I was smitten with money from the Prince of Darkness, I'd then turn around and give most of it away while keeping what I need to sustain myself and jumpstart my writing career during which I would continue to praise God, write prayers, and talk mad sh*t about the Devil and his servants. So, it's kind of hilarious; God won't give me what I want despite my intentions for it because I wouldn't have earned it, and the Devil won't likewise because he would be out the soul he bargained for it. Ain't that a kick in the sh*t? Also, there's some angst in there about disowning the material world in general and not just the mindless pursuit of wealth and possessions.
 
Anyone who says religion is easy or an escape can kiss my ass.

 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.


More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 50: Sonnet "A Christmas Sonnet"

 
Merry Christmas, everyone.

I know, I know. I'm writing this on the 26th. But, technically, today is the second day of Christmas. Christmas goes all the way until the 6th, known as the Epiphany or Three Kings' Day, so my wishes to you are not in vain.

Anyway, "today's" writing exercise is supposed to be a sonnet, and I was planning on doing a special Christmas sonnet. I tried working on it multiple times last evening and it hasn't come along very well yet. Maybe I'll write it now and share it tomorrow as I am so tired, I am dragging ass. But first, I wanted to mention some things. Because I'm still anxious about finding a job and there are other things I wanted to finish before the end of next week, I think this or the next poem I'm going to write will the last poem(s) of the year. I need to find a job and I need to distract my mind. And since I haven't been keeping good track of this little project, now would be the time for a break. I'm sorry to disappoint you. But maybe if this project goes rare for a while, I'll make a case for myself as to why people should support me on Patreon, not to mention, I'd like to turn out higher quality poems, short stories, and creative non-fiction posts. But if I have a major windfall, I will try to keep this up for as long as I possibly can.

Anyway, today's style is sonnet.

This day is the feast of Christ's advent,
The day of sinners' reclamation;
On this morn, let hatred and sin be rent
In the Name of our needed redemption.

At His Mass, His spirit we shall spread,
Every knee shall bend before the King;
He came to call everyone, living and dead,
Unto Him, every bell shall toll and ring.

Let us go forth and bear glad tidings,
And may the world come to Him and rejoice;
His message to our souls shall be guiding,
Blessings mighty to them who hear His voice.

Now, let us go forth and spread His cheer,
With family, dinner, gifts, and drinking beer.

***
 
I have no idea how long that actually took, but it must've been around a half hour. Anyway, I didn't mean to make the poem so religious at first. It was originally going to be about all the traditions and activities we do at Christmas and the twist at the end was going to be about how we can't do that anymore because of how snowed in we are. We got a buttload of snow here in Michigan. A true white Christmas.

But then, I was listening to all the really religious Christmas carols and it became one giant poem of worship with a slight sarcastic twist ending. I'm not attacking the commercialism or the other nonreligious things we do at Christmas, I just needed a twist because that's what sonnets are about in the last two lines. But besides that, this poem is alright. It did suck, but I changed some of the lines, and the timing is better.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noel, Fröhliche Weihnachten, Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, Wesołych Świąt Bożego Narodzenia, and Mele Kalikimaka.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 49: Dramatic Monologue "The Torture of My Soul"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, today is Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas. I'll probably say the same tomorrow for tomorrow's writing, but you can't be wished a Merry Christmas too many times. Anyway, today's style is dramatic monologue. Now, technically, a dramatic monologue can be any piece that is read by a single person to an audience as if being spoken to another person or character. Audition-type stuff. But, when I was in high school, I was taught a dramatic monologue was a type of poem, formed in heroic couplets, and about 25 to 35 lines long. So, I wrote one just like that. I called it Mortal Sin and it was dynamite. Basically, it was the angel Uriel telling a douchebag how villainous he was and to repent. And as much as I'd love to show you the revised version, here and now, I really should write something original.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

Behold the torture of my soul!
Give witness to the freedoms you stole!
Giving foul advice has led me here,
A life unrequited, how do I endear?
By sheer tenacity and on a dream,
I push through and write what I deem.
The morrow is barren of promises,
But I shall not fall and be dishonest.
Though I seek the easy answer,
I shan't sell my soul to that Dark Prancer.
For wherefore doth he want it so badly,
That he would strike a deal with me gladly?
I shall cuckold him and rely on One
Whose power can make the darkness shunned.
But being sworn to that great Halidom,
Is no easy task--what of my kingdom?
What of my opera? Shall I lose them
By paying my debts by mining for gems?
Alas, 'tis a wicked fate served upon me,
Served to one who only wants to be free.

***
 
Stop the clock! Forty seconds left. Phew! That took longer than I expected. I really thought I wouldn't finish. Point of fact, I'm really not. Twenty lines really aren't enough to express everything I wanted, but I was running out of time. But, for the most part, it's fairly decent as a poem. It only really loses the plot in the last four or six lines.
 
By the way, "prancer" is a word that means a "mettlesome or fiery horse." Seeing "fiery" in there, I was like, "Oh yes. The Devil's going in here." Plus, I never knew that that was what Prancer meant. Puts a whole new spin on one of Santa's reindeer. Puts an even more whole new spin on Prancer when I compare him to the Devil.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. I think I might keep it up with the poetry for a while. I find it very conducive for some reason. Plus, think of all the kick ass things I'm writing. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 48: Quatrain "Tempted by Forces Dark"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, as usual for this week, I'm starting on this super late. That's what happens when you have a lot to do on a Saturday and forget to set your alarm clock. Anyway, today I'm supposed to write a quatrain, but I have no idea what the hell to write about. I don't feel depressed anymore, but I'm still definitely anxious and still worried about my financial situation. To be honest, I kind of don't want this poem to be about anything. I kind of just want to throw up nice sounding gibberish and see if it gets me anywhere. I'll still try to keep it as a quatrain though.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

Midway through the journey of life, I found
Myself in a dark forest for the clear
Path had been lost. To this fate I am bound,
Trapped within the darkness and my own fear.

Though there is meaning in the life I live,
I have lost meaning in my life's purpose;
Much of my life I wish I could relive,
Though that would mean losing my corpus.

If I was born to write, why am I tried,
Tested and judged for choosing to write?
For choosing poverty, I have no bride,
And many consider my life a blight.

Heeding the advice of others has misled me,
And now my debts and desires are at odds;
That which I desire most is to be free,
But I cannot when I am driven by rods.

I pray to be delivered, but I am not,
Why pray if my pleas are not accepted?
Should I seek relief from those I am fraught?
By those dark powers, I am tempted.

Wherefore should I suffer and struggle?
What will it cost me? Naught but my soul.
If that is the case, what should I smuggle?
Whom should I rob, cozen, and cajole?

Oncet say a friend to me, today is better
Than whatever fetter ten years ago;
Though today I possess many letters,
My life is not a desirable show.

***
 
Well, much like my mood, this poem is contemptible. I mean, I feel kind of... blah, so while there is some bleak stuff in there, the delivery is all wrong. Some words straight up suck, the phrasing is bad, and the time gets lost a lot. I'm not sure what to blame it on. Though I can't seem to escape these torturous, self-pitying poems, when I'm tired and not feeling "it," I can't help writing bleak poetry. It just happens. As for the first line, yes, I stole that from Dante's Inferno--I thought it might give me a start, and, it did, but not the start I really wanted. I also think ten syllables is too much for any poem that isn't a sonnet. Quatrains should probably be much shorter. Oh well.
 
(What's also unfortunate is I just thought of the boffo title for this piece, "Tempted by Forces Dark." That's a lovely bit of poetry. That would make a stupendous poem. I'm going to hold onto that for later.)
 
That's it for today. If you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Friday, December 22, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 47: Prayer "A Christmas Prayer"

 
 
Hey, everyone.

So, as I've mentioned before, I prepare these in advance, especially this week and especially for this one. I had wanted to do a Christmas prayer, but only if it turned up in the spinning of the wheel, and it did, so... Today's style is... Prayer. But more than that though, it's a Christmas prayer. Not just simply for the sake of the season, but because there was a Christmas prayer I read not that long ago that I quite liked. I came across it from either Beliefnet or someone else I'm subscribed to. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find it since, but I do remember being blown away by how surprisingly good it was. All the rest are sort of chintzy or mundane or predictable like. So, here's my version of a Christmas prayer. Just know, it was inspired by key lines from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. And when I say "inspired," I mean I stole them and remade them for my purposes.

Almighty God,

As the season of Thy Son falls upon us,
let us remember the spirit and purpose
of this feast:

Let us not fetter ourselves in chains,
girded by our own free will
remaining captive, bound, and double-
ironed by evanescent pursuits.

Let us not misuse our life's opportunity,
but find the vast means of our
usefulness as Christian spirits
working at Thy business of charity,
mercy, forbearance, and benevolence.

And by Thy strength and grace,
may we be better than our word
doing it all and infinitely more,
able to keep Christmas well
the whole year round. May we
be as good a people as the world
could ever know.

Amen.

***
 
Well, it's not perfect, but it's pretty good. I don't want to use the word "people" because it seems to too generic and not purpose-built enough, but most other words that I could find that might have worked, church, parish, nation, kingdom, halidom, they all seemed too specific or didn't fit the rhythm of the prayer right. Not to mention, with the mention of "Christian spirits" earlier in the prayer, it doesn't feel like "people" needs to be anymore specific than it is because "Christian spirits" pretty much answers what sort of people we should be.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. For little as a buck from everyone who reads this, I can keep writing without needing a "real job."

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 46: Lyric "Truest Love"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, yesterday's riddle turned out alright. Unfortunately, I'm still feeling depressed so today's poem might likewise be dark and drab.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Lyric.

I looked at the last lyric I wrote, the High School Crush one from day 20. It was nice and talked about "love." So, I'll give that whirl this time. But, since I'm still in a dark mood, guess what? It's going to be a depressing poem about love... or at the least unexpected.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

For whom doth my heart sing and meet my love,
That one maiden for whom my heart is behove?
In sooth, she is a lass of utmost value,
With mild wit, strong virtue, and a beauty, too?

Nay, I can't say, for no such girl is part
And privy to the depths of my heart.
So, what then is my dearest love, that force
Which gives life meaning and secures the course?

Two desires claim not my heart but my mind,
They claim my life and put me in a bind;
One desire is for my art, that blighting,
Biting, blessing style known as writing.

Within the craft and smithing of words,
That is where I can find one of my lords;
But what of the other? What other desire
Could claim me and set my soul afire?

Why, that desire is for one above all,
A temptation that has made many men fall;
My greatest yearning is for liberty,
Aye, my greatest desire is to be free.

I look through the world and see naught but chains,
People leading lives trapped within reins;
What would I do for freedom is the question,
Why, I would surrender all my possessions.

The freedom to write is what I desire most,
That would be a life worthy of boast;
Losing this freedom is what I fear,
I cannot surrender that which is most dear.

***
 
Unfortunately, I can't say stop the clock as I definitely wrote past time. I also got distracted toward the end with a phone call and then I got sucked back into the job search. But, this poem, some parts of it are pretty muddled and just sort of "enh..." But there are other parts that are really good. This could be reworked into something dynamite.
 
Also, it's 100% true. I don't have a girlfriend, and my greatest desire is to the have the freedom to write, but looking for and having a job is causing me a lot of distress. You should see my eyes; I have these huge bags under them. But, I think a lot of the poetry I've written recently about my money and writing woes say more than my eyes ever could.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 45: Riddle "Greatest Coil and Liberty"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, unfortunately, today was alright, but this evening was terrible. I don't know why. All my anxieties, worries, and concerns hit me like a brick. Should make for a good riddle though.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Riddle.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

What is it...

     That gives a man unparalleled joy
       and untold misery,

     That spells doom upon a woman's brow
       and frightens a child?

What is it...

     That fetters a man in fruitless pursuits
       and reveals him to be naught
          but hollow and ash?

What is it...

     That could cause a man to forsake his lover,
       to surrender his title and possessions?

What is it...

     That gives a man reason and purpose beyond all
       but reveals him to be mad?

What is the answer to a question with all bearing,
     but questions all un-bearing answers?

What causes a man to be of the world but not in it,
     and in the world, but not of it?

One who knows nothing, can understand nothing;
     and one who understands nothing, can know nothing.

To what end will a man make his existence shudder,
     and what existence shudders a man's end?

Thus is the world's greatest coil and greatest liberty.

***
 
I would say stop the clock, but I wasn't keeping the time. Regardless, this only took about ten or fifteen minutes. I quite like it. I feel like this captures the sorrow of my soul quite well. (Hm, that's a nice poetic phrase.) 
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 44: Limerick "RWBY Limericks"

 
Hey, everyone.

Well, I wasn't as busy today as yesterday, though I still was busy. I had a job interview and they nearly hired me on the spot, but they're pretty far away. Hopefully, something better comes down the pipeline. And then afterward, I had a to meet a student I'm tutoring in Spanish. Interesting guy; goes to Cuba a lot and wants to learn conversational Spanish. But he'll probably catch on quickly. Anyway...

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Limerick.

Okay, so, sometimes when you're working on one opus, another opus will pop into your head, fully formed without any work. I honestly thought up a limerick in a few seconds. It was about a character from an animated web series called RWBY, which is an anagram of the four main characters first names. And basically the B-character limerick wrote itself, so I'm going to write it down and try to write limericks for the other three... and maybe for some of the other characters. And if you're a fan of RWBY, you'll probably enjoy this immensely.


Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

I once met a maiden named Ruby,
She said her friend was a booby,
    She was fond of hoods red,
    And making Grimm dead,
And she had a nice booty.

I once knew a princess named Weiss,
She was quite fond of everything ice,
    Her best friend is quaint,
    Despite Weiss' complaint,
But that will have to suffice.

I once met a cat-girl named Blake,
She was what you could call a flake,
    When I asked her her age,
    She said she was a page,
And fought for justice's sake.

I once met a hottie named Yang,
She started the night with a bang,
    She teased with a kiss,
    But served up a diss,
And beat up Junior's gang.

I once met a bitch named Cinder,
Her underlings were two Kinder,
    She was ambitious at best,
    Willing to kill the rest,
And turned Pyrrha into tinder.

There once was a girl named Nora,
She had an interesting aura,
    She had a great hammer,
    And made such a clamor,
And she never heard of the Torah.

There once was a character Amber,
None of the fans had heard of her,
    She was taken in ambush,
    Qrow had to save her sweet tush,
And now we remember her with myrrh.

***
 
Alright, stop the clock. Five minutes and something left. So, those weren't as dirty as I originally planned. The one with Blake, the one I thought up first, was much dirtier, but I didn't expect any one to really get the reference between page and the original word I had in the last line, "snake," basically me saying she was underage and yet she somehow had knowledge of the size of the narrator's penis. But since none of the others' were all that dirty and there are other words that rhyme with Blake, I changed the poem to fit her character better. Also, when I call her a "flake," I mean it in the sense she's always running away from her problems. But overall, I think Yang's is my favorite with Cinder's being a close second. As for Ruby's, not a lot of things rhyme with her name, so I had to use an near-rhyme. And, lastly, for Amber, for remembering her with myrrh, what does that mean? Well, myrrh was once used in ancient times for embalming the dead. So, you tell me.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Monday, December 18, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 43: Villanelle "Put Up or Shut Up"

 
Hey, everyone.

Ugh... Again, I'm doing a daily writing exercise a day late. Well, a few hours.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Villanelle.

So, like I said, I prepare these in advance, and I did have a topic in mind for today, and I think it would've made a great poem. I was going to talk about the tortures of my soul, but I hate looking like a poser, and some days, even I don't put up with my sh*t. Speaking of, I just spent about an hour on Pinterest, and there's a problem with Pinterest: see, if you click on a pin under a subject such as politics, regardless of whether you agree with the pin or not, you're likely to get more those same kind of political pins. And I, tried being a wise ass and defend my political beliefs, but Pinterest's recommendation programming has backfired on me and now half of what I see if crap from the other side.

As distressing as that is, the main problem is that I'm so, so, so tired of hearing people complain. I finally commented on one pin, "You're going to blame one man for all of America's problems? If these causes are so important to you, you be the change you think it needs." And since I'm still hopped up on all these assh*les complaints, guess what I'm going to write about? Don't worry; it won't be (directly) political. So, let's see if I can write a villanelle telling people to either put up or shut up.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

If thou want to work thy will, work it now.
Worldly problems shall come, and shan't avaunt.
The world shan't worsen less thou allow.

To what powers and men doth thou endow
That causeth thee to become weak and gaunt?
If thou want to work thy will, work it now.

Thine own dire problems thou can't disavow,
Will thee permit others' problems to haunt?
The world shan't worsen less thou allow.

Do not forswear exacting work, and plow
The fields of change with everything you want.
If thou want to work thy will, work it now.

Do not surrender to others and bow,
Giving unto those who excel at vaunts.
The world shan't worsen less thou allow.

To thine own mind and wonders shalt thou vow,
In thy beliefs, don't let naysayers daunt.
If thou want to work thy will, work it now.
The world shan't worsen less thou allow.

***
 
Stop the clock. Little more than three minutes. Unfortunately, this poem kind of sucks. I gave myself some really hard rhymes though, and I don't think I like villanelles. I can't get their timing and rhythm down. It's so weird to me. I always want to do things either as a heroic couplet or a sonnet. If I ever get that book of poetry out, I don't think there will be a lot of villanelles in there.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 42: Free Verse "Lost Souls"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, I wanted to do something different today. I really am not big on free verse because it doesn't rhyme, but today I feel the necessity to write some of it, specifically about some of the things that are causing me to feel lost. As a result, I kind of feel like a "lost soul," hence the title of this post. So, let's get on with it.

Today's style is Free Verse.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

Within the desires of the world,
    I am lost.

Within the desires for self,
    I am lost.

Within the feelings of what
          the world tells me is true,
    I am lost.

Is there no one out there who thinks like me, who acts like me, who is lost like me,
    who I could be my companion?

We may be lost, but at least, we're lost together. Lost within a world that has lost
    its meaning like a devil seeming within, without, its own dreaming.

Lost souls... are we dead to the flow of time... past, present, and future?

Lost souls... are we meant to live... without our meaning?

Lost souls... is there some meaning... in our suffering?
    ...or are we merely lost?    ...and meant to wander... ?

Misery loves company but loneliness shunned...

Meaning needs direction but direction abounds when significance forgotten...

Torture of the soul found in chains; liberty desired, ego fails, liberty falls.

I am lost for expression...

Where is my love? A lost soul... for me...

Does anyone understand this heartache... this burden... ?

I am lost for... expression... affection...

    Expression...

        Affection...

***
 
Stop the clock. Thirteen minutes left. Well, that was drab. At one point, I felt like I was getting at what I want, but I think I lost the plot halfway through. I probably should've written what I was feeling last night so I didn't lose the feeling. I still feel lost, but this isn't exactly how I wanted to say it, but it is all in there: loneliness, suffering, lack of meaning in life. I hate being this drab and melodramatic, but when you've been screwed by life and you're facing imprisonment of the soul, it's hard not to be dramatic.
 
Anyway, that's it for today. If you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 41: Limerick "A Girl Named Suzy"

 
Hey, everyone.

So's, as I said, I'm doing more poetry for today. Unfortunately, I planned this thing so far ahead, I've been thinking of what to write all day and avoiding the whole entry altogether. Unfortunately, the only way to do it is to just sit down and do it. The other problem is we trimmed our tree today, and in typical Saturday fashion, I can't work on anything until much later in the day.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Limerick.

Trying to think of a limerick all day is kind of hard. I had to look at the last limericks I wrote in order to get some inspiration. Unfortunately, nothing too brilliant is coming to mind. So, let's see what I can piece together. I actually do have one of mind, but it's really inappropriate, especially in the sexual harassment charged air we're currently living in, so I won't be using that one.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

I once met a girl named Suzy,
She was what you'd call a floozy,
    When I took her to bed,
    We accidentally bred,
And my son inherited her booty.

***
 
Ooh! That's terrible. It's not so much dirty as it just unfortunate. You never what a girl's booty on a guy, or a guy's butt on a girl. It doesn't look right. But the really unfortunate part of this poem is the sleeping around and accidental pregnancy. Don't sleep around, kids. Hold onto those V-cards!  And I would come up with more limericks, but I still have gingerbread cookies to bake, so that'll have to do it for tonight.
 
If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Friday, December 15, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 40: Cinquain "Misery"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, I'm getting started on this earlier than I did yesterday, but it's still quite late. And I didn't sleep brilliantly last night, so I'm tired as hell. So, we'll see how this goes.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Cinquain!

I'm sure some of you are confused because today is supposed to be fiction day, but honestly, I'm really tired and don't feel like making my brain work that hard. I know it sucks, but that's what happens when you go to bed at four in the morning, and then rise ten. And generally when I'm this tired, all my anxieties are magnified, so I don't feel well mentally. I feel kind of beaten by life even though I want to be in the Christmas spirit. So, I'll give this cinquain a try.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

Begone...
Mea culpa...
Burden of time wasted...
Wall are closing in--I am trapped!
Grief grows.

***
 
And I'm going to stop it there with twenty-two minutes left. Sorry to get dismal, but that's how I'm feeling right now. And there's still some stuff that I need to get done this evening before I can sod off with my misery, and I really don't want to do them. But I must. The other problem with this poetical form is that it's too restrictive to really get out what I'm feeling. I wanted to express my misery in a much more flowery manner, but cinquains don't allow for that.
 
Also, for the next few days, I'm going to be slammed with a bunch of crap I have to do, so I think I'm going to keep writing poetry. It'll also help with the poetry book I plan on putting out. Sorry to do that to you guys, but I have to.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Thursday, December 14, 2017

150th Post! Flash Stories & Poetry Day 39: Autobiography "I Am A Tutor"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, this post is late. How late? I'm writing it after midnight. This is supposed to be a daily exercise and I technically missed the day this is supposed to be on. Why? Because things have gotten complicated in life recently. Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat, and that fat, little bastard doesn't exactly waddle himself around.

The other problem is we got hit with a huge snow storm yesterday, so I spent an hour-and-a-half today clearing snow because we don't have a snow blower. My bicep is still sore and I ended up taking a nap this evening for an indefinite amount of time because I wasn't paying attention to what time I fell asleep. I only know that I didn't get up till 9:30. And then I had to waddle that fat, little bastard closer to Christmas. And I had to work today. I have a tutoring student. So, things are all farkakte.

And "today" is a non-fiction day. And my 150th post. Well, not technically, but who really cares?

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's genre is... Autobiography.

Now, like I said a few days ago, I actually prepare these in advance and I was kind of excited about this one until I started writing it after midnight. I'm also forced to ask the question how does autobiography differ from creative non-fiction? I don't think it does, and if it does, it's some splitting hairs BS like an autobiography is a book composed of several entries of creative non-fiction. So, I guess I'll be taking that out of the wheel. Anyway, I mentioned how I tutored someone today, so I think I'll tell you the story of how I got into tutoring.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go.

Let's wind the clocks back to the fall of 2010. No, we have to go back even further to that. Probably back to high school in order to tell this story properly. So, let's do that. Back when I was in high school, I remember people being all a titter about going to college--I was not. I didn't care. Fact was, I didn't want to go to college, and these days I think I should have followed that instinct, but I essentially wasn't worried about college. Why? Because I didn't care if I went. I was sure I would, but I didn't care where, how, or when. I don't have any allegiances to any colleges anywhere for any reason, and no one ever built college up in my head.

So, as you can imagine, because I was so "shrug" about college, I ended up at a community college. Now, don't get me wrong, Macomb Community College is a great school. It's cheap, it's small, it's staff is fantastic. I loved going there. Now, transferring out was a different matter altogether because as you know, in order to transfer from community college to a university, you have to either have a degree or make sure you take all the right courses. Going to Macomb, I had two main choices: Wayne State or Oakland University. I chose Wayne because it was the cheaper of the two and required a more diverse background in Gen-Ed's which I thought would help my writing whereas Oakland was much more focused on English coursework. Looking back, if I had thought to investigate the classes Oakland wanted me to take, I may have chosen Oakland instead. Yes, it's more expensive, but it has free parking, it's not in Detroit, and living where I do now, Wayne and Oakland are equal distances away.

But anyway, going to Wayne State meant that I had to have three semesters of a foreign language. This was tricky because interest in a third semester of any foreign language except for Spanish is almost non-existent not at the community college level. Believe me, I tried. I tried to recruit people to the cause of getting a third semester of Italian, but no one was interested. Speaking of which, that's the foreign language I chose at Macomb since I had had two years of Latin at Notre Dame. And as a result, I excelled at Italian. I was the envy of my first semester class and I was way up there for my second semester class.

So, I finished my second semester of Italian, I did very well, and here I was facing the fall semester of 2010. I don't think I took a foreign language that semester, but I did eventually end up taking Spanish... along with French, German, and Arabic, but let's not talk about that last one. I did eventually get my third semester of foreign language with Spanish, but in the fall semester, I received news through the wire that my former Italian tutor had to take a leave of absence since his wife had fallen ill which meant Macomb needed a tutor. They actually ended up hiring two tutors: one was myself and the other was another Italian student. Both of us were recommended by professors in the Italian department. I didn't even have to interview for the job. I just showed up and they started throwing paperwork at me. The next week, I sat in on an Italian tutoring session just to see how it was conducted, but it wasn't wholly necessary.

At Macomb, they did foreign language in an interesting manner. See, not only did you meet twice a week for an hour-and-a-half, but every quarter, you were required to attend at least five tutoring sessions at any time because there were multiple sessions, and if took more than that, you were given extra credit toward your midterm or final. And as you can expect from the average college student, most people blew off these tutoring sessions until the last minute meaning that while there may be an average of five to ten students per session, that number could explode up to from eight to fifteen, depending on the language. I eventually moved into tutoring entry-level Spanish, and there was one time, there were so many students at one session, they took up two whole tables. Must've been half the class. One time, I tutored during the summer semester which is much shorter and as a result, the class meetings are either longer or more often, and a couple of times, I had the whole class show up for a Spanish session. But, because I had lived through this tutoring experience, I already knew how it was done and I could do it no problem. (Sorry, I lost the plot there for a second.)

So, how did I get into tutoring? By being exceptional at my skill and knowing the right people. Unfortunately, tutoring for Macomb never really took off. There were too many tutors and the Dean of Humanities assured me that class sizes had dropped at one point. I actually think there may have been some foul play that saw me bumped off the roster. Why? Well, I was a young man and I tutored a lot of young women. (You can see where this is going...) I did ask once if it was okay to date the students, I was shot down of course, but I do wonder if they were looking to replace me after that or if someone complained about me being leery and the department blacklisted me after that. It's strange too because I still have the official professor's copy of the Italian textbook, a Macomb employee ID, and a key to the tutoring room at South Campus. The last time I worked for Macomb was Fall 2012, and they still haven't asked for them back, so it's possible I'm still employed there and I'm just blacklisted, or they just don't give a sh*t.

So, here I am several years later and finding myself in dire straits. I hope every day for something else to come down through the pipeline, but for now I need a job. My friend John is trying to hook me up with a warehouse gig and while it's a decent opportunity, $11/hr, 40 hours/week, and I get to wear jeans everyday, I'd rather have a position where I get paid $20/hr and work 20 hours/week so I can devote more time to writing. And, I did manage to pick up a tutoring student through an agency, but who knows if he'll stick around, number one, and number two, his parents might think I'm no good. But, I did manage to pick up a Spanish student recently. I'm seeing him Tuesday, so this might be fun.

But what I wanted to mention was that when I was tutoring this young man this afternoon, it gave me a sense of accomplishment, passing on my knowledge to someone who really, truly needs them. I don't know, maybe I should become a teacher or at the very least, look for a more lucrative tutoring gig. I've got the tools and the talent, I'm just worried that I'll let my writing slip and follow the easy path and end up forsaking the dream. Hence, my plan is to allow myself not to get too comfortable, which will also decrease my chances of getting a girl, and allow me a better opportunity from which to get really serious about this writing thing. Same sh*t, many different days ahead.

***
 
Stop the clock! Two seconds left. Phew. That was a lot of writing, and I still have a bunch to do before I go to bed tonight. Good thing I took that indefinitely long nap. Sarcasm intended. But, if any of you though are looking for a tutor and you live in the Macomb county area and you or your child needs help with their Maths, English, spelling, Spanish, or Italian, feel free to drop me a line at bryanclaesch@yahoo.com or reply to this post, and we'll talk it out. I charge $20/hr. 
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 38: Gothic Legend "The Old Oath"

 
Hey, everyone.

Sorry this is going up so late again today. It was another weird day. See, I had already spun the wheel so I knew what I was working with, so I was avoiding this because my brain refused to come up with story. Finally, I re-spun it to replace one of the genres hoping I could get something I wouldn't be so afraid of working with. And I did. So, let's see if I can finally get this done.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's genre is... Crossover. And as with the last crossover, which two genres will I be crossing over? ... Gothic and... Legend.

Now, as I already explained, I've already re-spun this a few times. First time, I got Gothic and Drama, but turns out "Drama" is just a word meaning "play," and I had no idea how to come up with a Gothic play. I then got Religious and thought I could use that, but I was afraid I might come too close to my magnum opus Remnants of Chaos in terms of tone, so I passed it up. Now, I have Gothic and Legend, and I think I can use this. It'll be like a prequel for another idea I had just like that one horror legend I wrote. So, let's see if I can do this.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Many years before I was born, the land of Lustweis was renowned for being the pinnacle of society. People from all over the world came to Lustweis for trade, work, and even for advanced medical care. But then came the Old Oath.

A group of wizened mystics came from the hinterlands claiming to follow a creed known as the Old Oath. It was one that required spiritual submission from all believers, but promised to open the ways of redemption, salvation, and transmundane evolution. Anacreon, the most decorated general of Lustweis and its greatest warrior, converted and obeyed to uphold the precepts of the Old Oath.

Within a span of only five years, Anacreon rose to the head of the order and became known as Aistan Anacreon, or Revered Anacreon, and had converted all citizens of the Citadel, the fortress city that had acted as Lustweis' capital. And then only three years after that, all of Lustweis converted and came under the Faith of the Old Oath.

All those who refused to convert were labelled as pagans or heathens and cast out into the wilderness. Lustweis lost its luster and became the world's largest and most powerful theocracy with Aistan Anacreon at its head. Those on the outside told stories of the purges that were taken up to cleanse the world of the pagans and the great atrocities carried out in the name of the Old Oath. But whatever evil its believers may have perpetrated, Lustweis' power continued to grow and soon its spiritual domination was beyond any doubt. Other forces in the world refused to war with Lustweis and evangelists found willing converts in neighboring lands. But the Old Oath's believers were soldiers first, and believers second. Everyone fought for the cause, even the mystics and priests.

The most effective method of evangelization dreamt up by Anacreon were his Hunters. Created in response to a vision from the Great Seer, Alured, who could speak directly to the Ancient One. Alured saw another entity, just as old and as powerful, recruiting followers to his creed and requiring unspeakably dark acts and other sins from them for the power they desired. These cultists were called Demoniacs, and so Anacreon created his Hunters to go out into the world and slay them all, including the monsters the Demoniacs became once they finished a ritual. The Faith of the Old Oath grew with each successful evangelization, but the Hunters themselves would eventually go mad from the eldritch and unearthly things they saw.

Two renowned Hunters of the Old Oath, Logarius and Hiram, went out on a mission to end a Demoniac cult and never returned. Hiram disappeared and Logarius is said to have fallen. That is where I come into the story.

***
 
And, I'm going to have to stop it there. It's a bit clunky, but it does get at what I'm trying to get at. For those of you who read my flash fiction story Old Oath, I decided to take that build it up into an actual novel. This here is the prologue of what that story is supposed to be about. I know it isn't technically a legend, not the way I wrote it anyway, but I needed to get this out of me. And it feels good to have done so. Anyway, if you want, you can read the Old Oath here on my blog. You might have to search for it though as I don't know where it is, but just so you know, it is based off the video game Bloodborne.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 37: Riddle "Money"

 
Hey, everyone.

So, I've had a really weird day. Tuesday's and Thursday's are rare days for me because they're typically days I can get stuff done, but today was an exception. First, I had to run errands which took longer than expected because Kroger was out of something I needed, then I had to shovel snow--turns out we're getting more tomorrow--and then I tried to get some of my Christmas baking today and I still have a boatload of writing to do, including this. So I was thinking of foregoing a fiction piece and instead writing a poetry piece to keep things short. Maybe instead of working out tomorrow, I'll save it for Thursday and use tomorrow as a writing day because I still need to get a bunch of stuff done. So, I'll spin the wheel tonight as a matter of formality, but I hope it lands on something easy and short.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's style is... Riddle!

Well, that's not as easy as I was looking for, but it can't be that hard, right?

Thirty minutes on the clock, although I don't think I'll be using all of them: 30:00. And... go!

What is it that can make a man...
A slave and purchase liberty,
Put him in the grave and new livery,
Impugn his piety to a deity,
Earn his love and loathing,
And make him desired by women
But a villain to lesser men?

***
 
Stop the clock! Except, I didn't start it because I was in such a rush. Anyway, the answer to this should be obvious as it is in the title of today's post. Hopefully, you guys got it. Oh, and the phrase "put him in the grave" has two meanings: either being worked to death, or being assassinated from too much gain. And "livery" can mean a style of dress.
 
But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Can You Pigeonhole Yourself through MBTI?

So, here’s a question for all you MBTI nerds: do you fear that knowing your personality type will pigeonhole you into acting a certain...