This one is not finished by any means, in fact I just started last night after realizing what I was certain I wanted to do with Victoria's character...it's really rough so don't get too critical but if you see some awful diction please feel free to beat me with a leek.
also the copy paste erased my bold and italicized text...and I am far too lazy to fix it.//
"It's not as if I am trying to fall!" Victoria shouted from the net. It seemed like a long fall but in reality the highwire hung only 15 feet above the the safety net that now entangled her small body. Victoria looked up at the wire, it was new and tight, the hardware was not to blame, this was user error. Victoria just coudln't get it.
The Circus around Victoria was quiet, only herself and Pierre were present and even Jera the large Elephant caged outside was quiet right now. wind gusts outside barreled against the tent now and then but only a faint whisking sound could be heard as they reflected off the tents strong material. The tent was clean, Gruiver made sure of that and every piece of equipment had a proper place. This was a respected traveling show after all. Victoria looked over to Pierre and frowned.
"I am trying, but everytime I get close to the middle my knees buckle up and I lose it!" Victoria was more than frustrated with herself. Her long blonde hair falling out of its bun into her face. She was petite five foot sone, and extremely thin. She ate well but could never really gain much weight. Her eyes were peculiar one a deep ocianic green and the other a light fiery brownish orange that the autumn leaves would envy. She held an air of sorrow, and people couldn't help but wonder why she was so discontent, even when she was smiling. Victoria climbed out of the net and looked over at the ladder.
"I need a break for now." Voctoria snarled. Pierre looked at her, "I think that is a fine idea, you won't get anything finished when you are this frustrated with yourself." Pierre was a good man with a good heart he was shocked when the circus adopted little Victoria, and infuriated when he realized it was just to use her as free labor, she was merely three years old at the time and cute as a button. He could not understad Gruiver's complete lack of compassion. Pierre promptly volounteered as Victoria's caretaker and raised her well, he loved her like his own daughter, and hated to see her this angry.
"Plus you look like hello kiddo! Go take a good shower and make sur your costume is washed for tonight, you don't really want Gruiver to be angry with you again" Pierre chuckled his words rang in Victoria's ears.
Victoria walked back to her trailer, feet dragging against the dry mix of sand and clay, it doesn't really matter what I do, Gruiver will always be angry with me. Unlocking her trailer Victoria climbed inside slowly. Her trailer was nicer than the other performers, but it was also new. Upon Victoria's turning of age Gruiver purchased her a trailer of her own, it was the only time she ever felt anything towards Gruiver other than a meloncholy hatred. She looked around briefly before grabbing her towel and a change of clothes. She had been told that the Tavern down the street had agreed to allow the performers to use their shower in light of the small town's lack of proper public facilities. She shuddered at the thought of all the people in the tavern.
Victoria hated socializing with people. Performing was different for her. She could stand in front of a million people, talk in front of a million people, but talking to someone that is where Victoria drew the line.
The tavern was small and a few men who stunk of whiskey lined the bar. The bar stools were old and wooden and Victoria's face twisted into a grin when a large man in dirty attire fell out of his chair into a pile a peanut shells that lined the floor, he was passed out drunk . The walls were littered with various stickers and posters and for the most part it was quiet aside from the small banter coming from various booths that lined the walls. The windows were dirty and let only a small bit of natural light that made the dust in the air apparent as it glittered floating around the room.
"You looking for the shower steetheart?" Victoria looked over to the bar startled, a tired looking Brunette stood behind it, her hair in a disheveled ponytail on top of her head. "y-yes ma'am!" Victoria said tripping over her words. "Well it's right over there, the hot water don't work too good, but I think you'll be jus' fine jus' be careful not to sli-" "Thank you!" Victoria interupted and scurried through the door. The bathroom was tiny and the small showers knobs were rusted, but in her time with the circus this was one of the nicer showers she had seen.
Victoria shut the door until she heard the small click of the lock before she began to undress and turn on the water. a small amount of steam filled the room as the luke warm water poured down on the worn tiles of the shower floor. Victoria smiled. Showers were one of the few times where she could think to herself without being interupted by the hectic nature of the circus. Gruiver is such an ass, I don't even want to do highwire...I am an arial acrobat expert...highwire is...is pointless! When Suzanne left the circus recently Gruiver demanded that Victoria take her place, in a fit of rage he had thrown furniture and ripped a section of the tent. This only lead to further infuration on his part and threats of kicking Victoria out into the streets. It's not like Gruiver would ever understand, the pig.
SaekoNova
04-10-2012 10:32 PM
teehee, love being friends with a writer you get to read it before she posts it mwahahaha :p so talented! :3 Manda this Nova loves you muchness
Hex
04-10-2012 10:33 PM
I love you too nova -snarls at the typos- baaah I am too lazy :3 I may show you a poem or two later love bird <3
SaekoNova
04-10-2012 10:35 PM
ehehehe I feel special :3
Hex
04-10-2012 10:42 PM
This is an old poem I wrote when I was 16ish...it is pretty messed considering my age when I wrote it so don't mind the insanity...very free verse. Enjoy! (again I was 16...shudders)
yet it goes out to
the girls playing lingerie tag
yes, the ones with their hearts tattooed to their hip
to prevent it's loss in the flurry of
dressing and undressing
of wine stained carpets and
blood stained sheets.
The silhouettes of women
bouncing up and down in rhythm with
the silhouette in the room next door
a carousel of perverse pleasure
teasing the paper dolls they cant let go of
the undeniable copies word for word
promise for promise
broken heart for broken bone.
still.
is it the heat that starts the game?
or the childish desire to drive each other mad.
the desire to see tears,
to cause pain.
perhaps just a love of the game?
no, love does not exist in this
morale hell
this inventive mad house.
SaekoNova
04-10-2012 11:31 PM
teehee Manda i <3 you such a talented person
Suzerain of Sheol
04-12-2012 12:34 AM
Manda, just dropping by to say I'm rather impressed with that poem, especially for you being so young when you wrote it. I would love to see more recent work of yours, if you have any/don't mind posting.
Hex
04-12-2012 02:04 AM
oh thank you! I will look through this computer and see if I have anything on it before I go to the journal (I am old fashion and prefer to hand write my poetry)
Who knows maybe I will have something up tomorrow o3o
Hex
04-12-2012 02:20 AM
This one is a little personal and may need some explaining. I wrote it when I thought my fiancee and I were going to separate about 2 weeks ago (we have resolved the issue, but it was a very scary time for me). The poem is a reflection of myself and my inability to control my own emotions and irrational fears...One of which is who I become when I get angry. (My grandpa still calls me little monster when i get angry, I used to throw tantrums as a child)
I hope this helps...its not my best work, but I think it gives some insight into who I am when I get upset...
to whom it may concern
the war is over.
I lost.
We lost.
My mind cannot comprehend the pain,
The pain of evil overcoming good.
The pain of my own devilish desire...
The war is over.
We marched forward,
hungry, cold, alone.
We fought valiently...
but life is not fair.
I stood my ground and watched,
watched as the demons inside of me
ripped their way out
through gnashed teeth
and bleeding gums.
It tore me apart,
armed only with words and hatred,
she marched forward destroying my world,
every fragment of my existence.
The war is over.
I fell to the floor and wept
as my sanity dissipated.
The fragments of chaos were aligned
in favor of the devil.
Greed filled my soul
and anguish filled my heart.
I thought of you breifly,
before fleeing to my base.
The war is over.
The monsters have won.
The demons have won.
I have won.
PS I apologize for the double post, while I realize it is not against our TOS it is still annoying sometimes >.>
Suzerain of Sheol
04-12-2012 01:44 PM
Hmm... interesting. I'm trying to decide how the split metaphor of war and demons works. I think the poem is just long enough that it does work. The short lines are really effective, it almost makes each one feel like a heartbeat.
The only one that sticks out a little to me is, "ripped their way out of my body" and the first impulse I had on reading it was to cut it to just "ripped their way out" I think that would flow a little better, but, that was just my first thought on reading it.
Also, by the way, you're allowed to post more than twice in a row in threads you "own" like this one, especially when you're adding new content.
Hex
04-12-2012 02:21 PM
Oh thank you! I think you may be right about that line, but I am always scared tha the visualization of what happens may be lost when I shorten lines up like that. I worry a lot haha!
I love short lines like that in poetry. I have a few poems that have repeated lines. but they always have some purpose. I like thinking of it as a heartbeat that is nifty!
SaekoNova
04-13-2012 01:59 AM
Sheol :D you should read the first post in my Sisters Tea House (Club House thread), :3 manda wrote that as a back story to mine and Maychans stoory of how we came to earth to help wanderers in need :3
Hex
04-13-2012 11:54 PM
breathe child.
The night is young as you.
Rise to your feet.
Battle that which ties you down,
the people that sway you.
You are no glass of water
left to evaporate away,
move when touched, spill out when knocked over.
stand your ground!
No one will fight for you,
you are your own guardian.
Defend this castle.
The garden of your mind.
Rise up!
Be your own hope
your own gilded warrior.
Time is short and sanity fleeting.
You are your best friend,
your only friend.
breathe.
Suzerain of Sheol
04-14-2012 02:33 PM
I'm reminded of my poetry professor's frustrated demand, "Why is this centered on the page? Why?!?!?!" though... I never quite understood her problem with that. :p
I do wonder whether the selective capitalization is intentional or not, since it lends an interesting effect to the lines which aren't capitalized.
I'm also wondering about the italicized line in the middle. I feel like it could function as the fulcrum of the poem, but the second half doesn't seem to quite diverge from the tone of the first half enough to work for that, and I'm not sure that's really what you were trying to achieve here, so feel free to ignore my aimless speculation. :p
Hex
04-14-2012 08:43 PM
The poem is supposed to feel like it happens in one breathe. Like an inner argument. The italicized sentence in the middle was supposed the be almost like a break in the breath (like a short winded gasp I suppose) also I selectively capitalize all the time. In this poem the selective caps are phrases that are spoken a little louder...or a little angrier I suppose would be a good phrase XD
The centering is because I think the spoiler Icon looks better centered XD
Suzerain of Sheol
04-14-2012 08:56 PM
Well, that makes it even more interesting to read. :p