Archive for Stories, Poems, and Writings of some kind…

A Haiku, For You

A haiku is a Japanese form of poetry that was originally written with 17 moras (a sort of pause), with 5, 7, and 5 moras in each row. Typically it was written with a kigo (or a seasonal reference) and a kireji (an audible pause that serves as a break in a verse or poem). It was written in Japanese as one line downwards, and was adapted as three lines in the English form. So here is my somewhat feeble attempt at a haiku about the 5 Japanese elements.

An Adjoined, Elemental Haiku:

Ka (fire) is all alone,

None else are as powerful.

Except for lightning!

Chi (earth) is very strong,

Immovable, rock can be.

Why do you try so?

Mizu (water) flows with ease,

As a fool’s mind, it changes.

Unsteady she is…

Fu (wind) blows everywhere,

It is raging all over.

Then it is quiet…

Sora (void) is empty,

Yet it is always active.

How can it be tamed?


Thank you for reading,

It has brought joy to my heart.

Now I go to eat!



Any place can be magical in the snow, even your own backyard. Normally my backyard is pretty dull, with patches of grass, patches of dirt, and even a hill and some trees. But there’s something special about a Georgia winter that’s covered in snow, I mean real snow. Not many people who are natural-born Georgians can say that they’ve even seen snow, much less seen the entire ground smothered with it. Granted, most of us have seen sleet before; even ice and hail too. But a white day in our state is an unnatural and special ordeal.

Walking outside of my house, the first thing to notice is the cold. It was practically freezing! But when you finally get over the icy breeze, there’s a tranquil feeling that passes through you, as if the snow itself has decided to run through your veins. Just looking at the ground makes you feel out-of-place. The low hanging trees bending from the weight of the snow, and the icy fences highlighted from the wintery background added to the surreal effect of the morning. Blissfully you are drawn to walk off the patio and into the drifting snow that looks so crisp and light, almost like sugar set upon the stony walkway. However looks indeed deceive and you immediately sink into the wet and clinging blanket. But that does not faze you, for the magical excitement overwhelms and you find yourself running through the blank canvas that has been laid out during the night. Footprints leave their mark and the atmosphere dares to play as a child, giggling with glee once again. The snowballs will fly, and angels caress the snowy grounds. The amount of snow is ridiculous! As you romp it seems as though it will never run out.

Later in the day the ice sets in and it tempts you to slip and slide across it as you frolic across the drive. As night comes you return indoors to the warmth and cozy in with a blanket and a mug, reflecting on the day. The family eagerly talks over one another, creating a delightful cacophony of excitement. As you sit by the window, you look outside for one last glimpse at the beautiful cloak of snow, seemingly undisturbed by the wreckage of today’s events. A warm chill runs through you as you once again smell the cold air, feeling as much a part of the scenery as the snow itself. It has been a good day. All in all, the snow this weekend was a spectacle to see, almost like stepping through a wardrobe 😉

Writing Prompt Entry

Alright so it’s finally time for what I said I was going to post two weeks ago: The writing prompt story! It’s actually a privilege to be able to post this one considering the author is a very close friend of mine. She’s a young writer who has a way with words like no one else I know. Seriously she can put together a story with no promise at all in the most elegant of ways. But please don’t think that this influenced my decision at all; every time I read her entry I just love it all the more. So without further ado, Christina Adleman’s post:

-Two men pass on a darkened street,
Only passing, never to meet.
A stranger to sight, it might have appeared,
but what ever between them forever leered,
was that within kindred spirits resided.
Though eternally they were divided.

Always separate yet always perceiving each other. Like Montague and Capulets were these two men. Adversity was forever between them , though not once were they ever to view the other face to face or eye to eye. For as long as history has been or will be has a rivalry divided the families of the two. Though within them both resides a similarity unmistakable, for they are both alone in this world, and have turned their backs on the love of God. All they now desire are the earthly carnal things this world provides. There seems to be no hope for their future, even though they are but in their youth. Can they ever open their eyes, or will they remain blind to the Truth forever? This is the struggle of so many in this deceived nation, but most do not even realize that they are blind…

Huh? Awesome right? Yeah I thought so too. I really don’t have that much else to say other than thank you for reading this, and thank you Christina for writing it!  In writing this entry she actually told me, “Who knows, maybe my story will really impact someone, and that’s how revival works; one heart at a time.” So trust me when I say this girl is legit. She really want’s to touch the hearts of this generation, and do so within the heart of God.

Until next time

-Nocturne out

Depths of Soul

Alright, so today’s post is a little more on the darker side, but rest assured, the poem posted is scrumptious indeed. Seriously. I wrote it very recently in a spiritual dry spell, if you will. I just put my pen to the paper and wrote what was in my soul. Check it out:

“Confusion, death

Why? Why run, why hide?

Escape? Necessary?

Not a chance, not a prayer.

Fear? Afraid?

Losing heart, losing mind.

Won’t make it, can’t make it,

Run away to ne’er return.

Where? “To hell, to hell” they cry.

How? If in a frenzy, not too soon,

You’ll lose your bloody mind before.

Fiery depths, reaching inside;

Don’t hold it back, this is my choice.

If ever hope, if ever hope,

Here it lacks, devoid of love.

Desolate and cold, refraining from heart,

Desolate faith, left in ruin…”

So what’d you think? Like it? Yeah, I do too. It’s really amazing when you can just write from your soul, just write what comes naturally. Open up your spirit and let it roam. It’s somewhat different when you write what’s inside your being than when you, “let out your muse,” if you will. But whatever.

Again, let me know what you think, want, know, blah blah blah. Comment box is below, email is And remember folks, next week is when I post the story from the writing prompt last week, so submit your entries. I have a few good ones so make sure you get yours in so I can review them. That is all

Until next time,

-Nocturne out

New “Project”

Ok, so I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while; been kinda busy lazy lately. So, to make it up to you, here’s a snippet from a new project I’m working on. It got started as a freewriting/just-write-because-if-you-don’t-you’ll-go-mad session I did a while back. So here you go:

– On this particular night, the weather did not happen to be a friend to the dark stranger. He walked down the path, which lead to the old house at the far end of the neighborhood. It was storming, lightning was flashing, it was thundering. But the man just walked calmly on. He did not care that the weather was stormy, or that the rain was pouring down. He did not care that the wind was blowing hard enough to bend a small tree over itself. He thought only of the task at hand, only of what he had to do. This was all he knew, all he needed. He knew only that he had to complete this mission, and he knew how.

He walked up to the door of the house and, seeing it was open, stepped inside. He took a quick look around, and walked through the hallway, which had many doors. As he walked, he stopped at each door, opened it, and looked inside. Not finding what he was searching for, he would leave the room, and continue walking down the hallway. The last room was right in front of him now. He slowly opened the door, and peered inside. Stepping into the room, he braced himself for what was inside.  He took a quick look around the room, finally seeing what he was looking for. Piercing, bloodshot eyes were staring back at him from the far corner of the room, and he froze with the icy grip of an unknown hand. The shadowy figure turned, leaped through the open window, and disappeared in the fog. He went to the window, and looked out into the night below. It had escaped. He had followed it up until now, almost perfectly so, and now he had let it escape. He walked out of the house, furious that he had failed. –

Pretty crazy huh? Well, maybe not yet, but the rest is spectacular. Well, it will be anyways. So thanks for reading! I will post – or try to post- more later this week, so again as usual, email me at, comment below, give me thoughts, ideas, suggestions, anything you want to see.

Until next time,

Nocturne out.

Writing Prompt Number The First One

Ok, so check this out. I’ve been reading a lot of blogs and posts about writing recently, and decided to try my hand at the whole writing prompt thing. Now, I’m gonna do it a tad differently than some, but that’s kinda how I do. Soooo…..

– Two men pass on a darkened street,

Only in passing, never to meet.

A stranger to sight, it might have appeared…

Ready? Good, because now comes your job. Write a short story, paragraph, or even a sentence (if that’s how you roll) about these two men, and whatever it is that “might have appeared” about them. Put the story in a comment below if you want, or email the story (for you shy types 😉 ) along with your name, your url/blog page if you have one, and whatever other info you want to send to my email at, and get this: I’m gonna post the best story next week on the blog*, along with a link back to your site, and whatever other info you send, so this is your chance to get some sweet publicity (yes, yes, I know it’s not much considering I get like 15 hits a day, but still…)

*All copyright for the story, poem, post or whatever belong solely to… you! So trust and believe that I am not going to jack your story I assure you.

Until next time, feel free to comment (or email) your ideas, thoughts, comments, or whatever else.

Nocturne out.

Story Time!

Alright, well I figured it was about time to post what I said I would as one of my regular features. Matter of fact, I even made a (empty) category for it! So here goes… I’m gonna post a story! (snazzy fanfare theme song plays) Ok, so this is one that I wrote a little bit ago, not a very long one, but meaningful to say the least. Well, to me anyways. Coincidentally, I wrote it in the back of a church. Here it is:

– Three girls sat in the back of the church. They giggled, passing notes and sketching pictures on the envelopes that were so conveniently provided in the back of each seat, for faithful tithers and hopeful visitors. The pastor rattled on at the front of the sanctuary, preaching the “Good News” and “God’s Saving Grace that flowed from His throne and the train of His robe”. But as usual they were not paying attention, nor did they care for whatever he was talking about, as they enthralled themselves in each other’s comments and mockery of the people that sat, listening to the sermon. One, in particular, was a young woman who had not other reason to be there but that of the hope that she would receive some, supernatural blessing that would help her make it through another week, hoping that she would last till the next service, and restart the process of watching, waiting, wanting a sign that could keep her going. Three in the back just watched, judging and mocking this tattered young woman who was at her last resort. As she walked out of the building, the three said not a word, just staring, now and then one of them turning to snicker to the others. Three days later, a young woman was found at her home. She was dead. The cause was suicide. –

Depressing, I know right? But nonetheless, it’s an example of the power of our words, and it says that our action (or inaction) has the power of life and death… literally. Now, you may not believe in God, or even care one way or the other, but hopefully you realize that regardless of who you are, your actions hold weight. You never know.

As always, you can feel free to give your thoughts on this topic, or even comment about an idea for a new post and tell me what you want to hear. You can also email me at as well.

– Nocturne out, ya’ll…