Tag Archive | Online Writing

The Start of a YA Story I May Finish Someday…

(nov 2008)

..And I really might finish it someday because though it’s been awhile, I still know how it ends and what is supposed to happen. That’s why I don’t know where my shoes are most of the time. I can only remember so much!

re-reading makes me want to finish it, alas Amaranthine calls (and actually sells, too!)


by me

Roderick wasn’t dangerous, but rather beautiful – beautiful and scared. Anyone who says otherwise only does so because they didn’t know him. They didn’t notice him until the end, and by then things had spiraled out of control.

People called him the son of the devil, but he was really the product of an alcoholic and a drifter who may or may not have been insane. Who am I to say for sure, after all? His Father wasn’t there to either prove or disprove the mythical legacy he’d left behind of his vampiric origin. Roderick’s mother changed her opinion like the wind, but most of the time Roderick believed; and because I loved him so did I.

That all came much later, though. The beginning was far more mundane and sane than the downward spiral of a conclusion was.

I remember it clearly; it was summer the first time I saw him; late summer. We’d done our back to school shopping the day before and I was dying to wear my new clothes. I had only one week to wait until school started.  The thought filled me with both anticipation and dread. It was high school now, a whole new ball game, as my dad would say. I’d spent all of elementary school slinking in the shadows and I wanted nothing more than to suddenly be noticed and accepted.  High School promised me that, or so I thought. I guess I didn’t bother to contemplate that it was going to be the same old kids in the same old building.

My town was a small one, and as the years had passed it had gotten smaller. Long before I was born they’d consolidated all of the schools, grades k through twelve, into the highschool building. This left behind the hulking husks of the old institutions. Most of them were torn down, but one was left standing; the Mt. Jefferson junior High School. Maybe that was fate.

I’d escaped my parents that sweltering afternoon, and made my way aimlessly down the quiet streets towards the old school. It was a large, brick structure that had three stories and rumors of a haunted basement.  All of the widows were boarded up and I’d never been brave enough to peel any of the plywood back to peek inside.  I was content enough with the outside of the building; from the faded brick to the cement that bordered the large entrance way. I suppose it might have actually been stone and not cement at all, though at the time I didn’t really worry about what it was made of.  Between the weather and the original carving, the effect was one of two large trees; one on each side, that bowed down over the heavy wooden doors. The front of the building was cast in perpetual twilight thanks to a collection of giant oak trees, and in this quiet semi darkness moss grew in thick profusion. It traced its way over my imagined stone trees and hung over the doors like thick foliage.

When I was younger I’d imagined that this was really the entrance to a fairyworld and that the old oaks growing all around and casting their permanent gloom were really ancient guardians placed there by the Queen of the fairies herself. Of course, by the time I was ready for junior high I had abandoned such notions. Still, I had a fondness for those old trees and I spent many hours curled among their weathered roots with my nose buried in a book.  In fact, on that was my destination on this particular day.

I reached the sweeping front lawn and made my way down the broken sidewalk, but a noise caught my attention and I stopped just short of the trees.  The sound came again, a shuffling, scraping noise, like something running across sandpaper. At first I couldn’t find the cause of the sound, but as I searched, my attention was drawn to the roof where I saw a figure all in black. Oblivious to me, he was dragging what looked like a wooden crate across the flat rooftop towards the edge.

I watched with a mixture of fascination and horror. Fascination because I had never encountered anyone else at my old school and horror because, well, I had never encountered anyone at MY old school. The place was my secret sanctuary and the idea that an intruder had come left me disconcerted.

When he reached the edge of the roof he stopped and ran one arm over his forehead as though to mop up invisible sweat.  It was no wonder he was sweating. The temperatures were nearly one hundred, and yet he was fully dressed in black clothing so that every inch of skin save his hands and face was covered. Even his head was covered in black, but as he climbed on top of the box and stood with the wind whipping around him I realized that was his long hair.

And that was what he did. He just stood on top of the box with the wind blowing back his hair and flapping his long coat like a cape. He stood there and he stared out over the town, his eyes on something in the distance like a king surveying his kingdom or a fallen angel mapping out what was to be his prison.

I watched him for countless minutes and he watched the horizon. Then, as if at some silent signal, he turned and dropped back to the roof.  He disappeared from sight quickly, and though I waited, he didn’t reappear. I don’t know why I waited. Had he come out the front doors and spoken to me I’d have simply stared with giant eyes and murmured “eep”.

But he didn’t appear and I got bored with waiting.  I didn’t stay and read as I’d planned, instead I took my book and went home again.  My curiosity was piqued, but I stayed away from “my” school for the next several days because I was afraid of running into him again. That probably sounds strange, since I was intrigued, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good to meet him face to face.


Fav song of the moment – Ten Black Roses – The Rasmus

Old Poetry

(from February 2008)

This is an exercise from Shotgun Poetry (which I believe is now defunct, but perhaps not?) What you do is take an old throwaway poem and redo it by changing key words to their opposite, with the intention that it still make some sense in the end.   Well, my PC is down, which is where everything of mine is at from 1997 till October of 2007. Anyway, luckily I have a few things from 1997 (when I was still Joleene Harris) on paper and managed to dig one up! (Yes, I still have notebooks from high school.)

Maturity (August 1997)

Softly echo down the hallways in the caverns of our minds
No where to go, no way to turn, the path to life we can not find
Seeming softly, overflowing memories buried deep inside
Hide the pain and hide the anger, fires burning out your life

Darkness tripping out the daylight, crystals forming cold as ice
Destroying all we hold in silence, revealing yet another vice
Tonight you hold the truth inside you, tonight you’ll tell another lie
Throughout the coldest, frightening anger, hiding from those burning eyes

And so a slave to what you once were, holding on for safety’s sake
Quiet truths entombed in cobwebs, fate has not a smiling face
Down the hallways of your memory, standing out inflicted pain
Remember always what they’ve made you then wash yourself clean in the rain
Knowing that you can not hide or try to shrink away from me,
For I am what you’ve grown to fear and my name is maturity

I have no idea what any of it as supposed to mean. Which is why I gave poetry up for a long time! That and I ran out of depressed feelings!

And here is the redo of it:

Immaturity (March 2008)

Softly echo through the dungeons in the caverns of our minds
No where to go, no way to turn, the path to death we can not find
Seeming softly, overflowing fantasies buried deep inside
Hide the pain and hide the anger, cold and freezing up your life

Daylight tripping out the darkness, crystals forming hard as ice
Destroying all we hold so loudly, revealing yet another vice
Tonight you hold the truth inside you, tonight you’ll reveal another side
Throughout the coldest, frightening fear, hiding from those burning eyes

And so a slave to what you once were, holding on for danger’s sake
Quiet lies entombed in cobwebs, fate has not a smiling face
Down the hallways of your memory, standing out imagined pain
Remember always what they’ve made you, your skin still dirty in the rain
Knowing that you can not run or try to shrink away from me,
For I am what you’ve grown to fear and my name is immaturity


So there you go!  Spiffy, huh? Whole different story now! Not that it makes a lot more sense…..

And now for the Segment I happily call “Random Things from My Pilfered Laptop” I SHOULD have had some lovely snow pics for you but I’ve been too lazy to take them off, so instead enjoy two more horrible poems from my high school years!

Useless Perfection (April/May 98 )

Marbleized beauty in Crystal shrine,
Perfection at their fingertips,
Unclosing eyes, unbending hands
Eternally softly smiling lips

In perfection was she created,
To be the sculptors lover’s dream,
All to be the perfect woman
But perfection isn’t what it seems

Many mortal hearts she’s stolen
Holding them tightly to her breast,
The one that cared the most for her
Found at her feet eternal rest

Her marble arms so round an perfect
Could not hold him close to her
Smiling lips so soft and open
Could not kiss him though they yearned

And so perfection was created,
Standing in its gilded cage
Worthless to the world around her
A remnant of an ignorant age


Stone (January 1997)

I do not feel regretful
I have nothing to regret
I have no painful memories,
I choose to forget
I have no grief and anger
I let none bother me
I have no well know secrets
I don’t let others see
I’ve no history of scandal,
I stick close to my home
I feel no painful loss
I have no loved ones of my own
I feel no pain and sorrow,
For my heart is made of stone
But never will I feel love
Because I’ve made myself alone

Fav Song of the Moment –  Anarchy – KMFDM

Random Acts of Poetry

Another new blog. Holy smokes!

Okay, so I was updating my website the other day (another shocker!) and I thought “I should generate some poetry to slap on there!” because I tend to churn the free flow stuff out in a few minutes (especially if it doesn’t rhyme!) and so it’s an easy update. I didn’t end up using any of it, as it turned out I have some stuff I submitted to a mag awhile back that hadn’t seen the light of day (will post it in the future) but I thought that we could have some interpretation fun!


That’s right. Interpretation fun. I will post three random acts of poetry and you tell me their meaning! There’s no right or wrong answer, so read away and tell me what YOU get out of them!




The rain drips

The canvas crawls

Moonlight steals across the room

So many thoughts betray this wicked mind

A phantasmagoria of sight, taste and sound

Rainbow wishes made of porcelain

That break at the sound

Of the cricket’s




The meaning hidden behind the mask

It crumbles though your fingers like the dawn

Broken shield of your imperfections

In a place where all the dreams were held together

By a rusty colored staple

And a piece of faded twine

As if a child had stored them away

To keep until they grew, like some treasure

Tarnished by the years and stained

With dust tracks of forgotten tears

The taste of empathy still lingers

In forgotten hollows of imagination

And all that once was, is lost

And what remains is just a wrinkled phantom

Still clinging to the illusions

Of yesterday



An eternity of silence drips

Like raindrops from the eaves of time

And drowns this petty room with suffocating tension.

Words have deserted us and left our mouths empty

Fleeing from the scene as though running

From some tragedy replete with flashing lights

And witness statements, too many signatures to count

Now we are just casualties of our own indecision

Injured by our fears and trepidations

All the apologies we should have made

And confessions that we should have spoken

Now to old and heavy to give life to

So there is nothing left to say or do

Except scream silently inside and pray

That someone can see the blood mixed with our tears

And save us before it is too late

And this ever growing silence

Suffocates us both


Did you get anything out of those? or is it just a random smattering of meaningless words strung together because they sound cool? YOU decide!

P.S. Titles would be helpful, too!

Fav song of the moment – 30 Seconds to Mars -Hurricane

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