tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22849474199706682832012-02-16T02:23:36.013-05:00This is simply a place to post my work, from non-fiction, to fiction, prose to poetry. Be warned, there may be posts containing NC-17 fiction, fan fiction, and RPF's (Real-person fiction.) Please watch titles for notification of these stories, and avoid them if you find them offensive to your personal code of ethics.Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.comBlogger251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-3529921275065081012012-01-01T00:28:00.002-05:002012-01-01T00:28:38.629-05:00

Let there be Peace on Earth, and let it begin with me Let there be Peace on Earth, the peace that was meant to be. With God as our Father, brothers all are we Let me walk with my brothers, in perfect harmony. Let Peace begin with me, let this be the moment now With every step I take let this be my solemn vow. To take each moment and live each moment In peace, eternally Let there be peace on

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-7391657817014092112008-04-28T20:33:00.000-04:002008-04-28T20:35:21.378-04:00

Last Call The last of the last call customers had left. Now was the quiet clean up time at Corner Café. Amy told the cook to finish the dishes and head out half an hour ago, and he was waving from his bicycle as he rode past now. She glanced at the clock and realized she had about an hour before the next shift would be in. Settling on the end stool at the counter, she flipped through the

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-2330536494191860392008-03-01T07:05:00.002-05:002008-03-01T07:11:22.646-05:00

When Your Past Comes BackWho is ever prepared for when the past comes for a visit?It catches unawares, and often cold.We marvel at the wonder, or stare in horror thereWonder, when did we get so very old?A treasure from our childhood, can turn us back to tenAnd bring the simple joy of life anewWe remember carefree days, or a second froze in timeAs captured in a fragile drop of dew.A person we once

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-61372057464917789622008-02-10T09:01:00.000-05:002008-02-10T09:02:31.890-05:00

Vengeance is a dish best eaten cold.He couldn’t remember when or where he had heard that, but he had known it all of his life. To that end he created what he called his mental “fridge space”, a place to put the wrongs and injustices in his life and let the sit, waiting until they were properly chilled. Sometimes, it took years. And the thing he learned was that most of the time, by letting

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-30860123252739813952008-01-18T07:20:00.000-05:002008-01-18T07:21:30.639-05:00

In His EyesThe greatest storyI ever readwas in the lineson the face of an old manon a flight to Wisconsin.He told me of his life.How, as a young man,he left his parents to take part inthe drama of war. Onforiegn soil he was witnessto humanity's inhumanity.He returned with blindersto the differences in his fellow man.His sweetheart awaited him.and within her armsthe love story of marriage.They

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-17445945717146134982007-11-04T20:03:00.000-05:002007-11-04T20:04:11.908-05:00

This ends up being a timely prompt to me. Because something that made the headlines this week is rooted in the love of money, and how it is the root of all evil.I am a fan of Duane “Dog” Chapman. I didn’t want to be. I thought the show was going to be some macho crap piece. Then one day, I got caught up in a marathon. And I fell in love with the show. Dog has had his troubles. Served time

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-77047211799783090682007-10-26T21:24:00.000-04:002007-10-26T21:25:02.004-04:00

They sat around the plush room, no one speaking. The tick of the second hand on the wall clock and an occasional cough were the only sounds in the room. Outside, in the hall, the sound of personnel being paged, shoes clicking, thumping and squeaking on the polished floor, and muffled conversations could be heard. This small group was in limbo ~ feeling as if they were not a part of the living

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-47990246208605302272007-10-21T11:43:00.000-04:002007-10-21T11:48:06.847-04:00

Success. It comes in little battles, from getting the lid off of the pickle jar to meeting a deadline with time to spare. Everyone measures it in different increments and different ways.The common idea of success is fame, money, having your hearts desire. I'd have to say that with the rash of celebrity fall outs lately that make the news, that is a poor marker. There are many who are "

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-67278560184079340482007-10-21T11:33:00.000-04:002007-10-21T11:37:55.578-04:00

This took some thought. I guess the first official act would be to empty the royal coffers, sell of the properties and things, and turn the homes and such into housing for those that have none. Investments making money would be kept, to fund housing, education and health care for those who need it. The time of the haves vs the have nots would come to an end, and everyone would have a level

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-30236745571833671172007-10-12T07:20:00.000-04:002007-10-12T07:21:10.683-04:00

Job. (jahb)Job. (johb)Despite the difference in pronunciation, they are very similar, although one is a noun and one a name. Both entail trials, struggles and, when done properly, great rewards.My first job was actually as a bartender/waitress at a brand spanking new restaurant. I was trained and taught well. While not my dream job, it is one I miss, because the staff and owners were great

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-521741393977069192007-10-07T08:22:00.000-04:002007-10-07T08:44:59.296-04:00

Sorry, no prompt.Wow. I have just gotten into the swing of checking in for the prompt and racking my brain for something appropriate to share. First reaction to seeing those words was...drat. Then I saw the small addition at the bottom, how others, as resilient as writers are, vowed to take it as an actual prompt. Kind of a free-for-all week. I've seen ones who just took the word Sorry, ones

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-17186467663369219642007-09-29T08:10:00.000-04:002007-09-29T08:13:41.028-04:00

SoberIt wasn't supposed to turn out like this.Relationships are not supposed to hurt.I invited you into my life to share,not to destroy that for which I worked. Insidious, you crept in and took over,greedily changing each partto fit your specific game plan.You wrought havoc on my heart.Too late, I noticed the changesin the universe in which I dwell,How you realigned the forcesTo suit you, put me

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-48181167834767334802007-09-23T09:06:00.000-04:002007-09-23T09:07:46.760-04:00

A tickleA touchA whisper I turned to see whowas speakingand found no one there.A tickle A touchA whisper"Who teases my attention?Who whispers in my ear?Who touches me so soft?Answer me."I am the breath of the father,The touch of the mother.I am the accompianment to life.I sing through the leaves,I draw in the sand,I cool from the heat.Sometimes, I am gentle,You barely know I am about.Other times

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-11675636516541155012007-09-23T09:01:00.000-04:002007-09-23T09:03:21.127-04:00

In the golden closing light of the day, I asked the setting sunTell me what you are and who, before this day is done. I never wear the same face twice,and my colors often change.Some times I am strong and vibrantSometimes I am weak and paleI am ever changing day to dayand moment to moment.Look at me now, then blinkand I am not the same sky you just sawI play hide and seek with the cloudsI play

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-48011325932552056122007-09-16T08:33:00.000-04:002007-09-16T09:53:27.229-04:00

Some people are born collectors, and others have it thrust upon them. My apologies for bastardizing the quote, but I do believe that is the case. I am the proof.My grandmother collected elephants. The intent was that when she passed, I would inheirit the collection, barrister's cabinet and all.Thankfully, she is still with us, but I have the collection now. She is in a smaller aprtment and needed

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-5241411133525274602007-09-09T19:27:00.000-04:002007-09-09T19:32:27.867-04:00

Prologue (1938)“Excuse me.”Ciara looked away from the wash she was hanging to see a boy standing in front of her. He wasn’t exactly a boy, but neither was he a young man. He had to be just a bit younger than she was.“Well, now, what do we have here?”“Please, ma’am, I’d like to join you.”“I beg your pardon?”“I am running away. I want to join you and your friends on the river.”He gestured towards

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-52386390834124041232007-09-07T20:50:00.001-04:002007-09-07T20:57:47.846-04:00

Frustration So many things that crash about in my mindThey all are wanting out.It is a stretch to the plain white expanseI have no idea what this poem is about.Emotions and feelings and tales of the timesWords phrases and snippets of linesHow can one shape them into a poem?Sometimes it just seems to take time.Struggle and strain and look for the wordsThey’re in there someplace, fast asleepI

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-49017141445061227892007-09-01T22:20:00.000-04:002007-09-01T22:21:23.565-04:00

GoneI called out for you last night.But you were no where near.I needed you to hold me tight, and dispell all my fear.I needed to feel your arms around meas they held me safe and warm.But all I had were cold blanketsto protect me from my storm.The lightning flash of worriesthat streak across my mind.The thunder of insecuritythat sneaks up from behind.Your touch would soothe away these thingsand

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-76231575388018166982007-08-21T07:29:00.000-04:002007-08-21T07:41:24.411-04:00

This is a work of fiction. The character of Bon Bon is not my original creation, but is culled from the movie Before Night Falls. I Have created the backstory for Bon Bon and given him a name. Tristan is my original character and creation. Extreme adult situations. This is all in good fun and I have no designs on making any money wityh this story.There was that song again. It stuck in her

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-32363883542269346042007-08-12T12:49:00.001-04:002007-08-17T12:29:09.661-04:00

No money to be made here. I do not claim ownership to the charcters from Sleepy Hollow. NC-17, fan fic, slash situations, masturbation.Chapter One:The Non DyingIke adjusted the collar of his cape and stepped out into the autumn rain. The streets were deserted at this hour and he relished the time. The life of the city was far off, punctuated by the sirens that wailed in the night. He felt

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-51305724728250016682007-08-12T12:37:00.000-04:002007-08-17T11:36:57.050-04:00

This is a work of fiction. I do not know Johnny Depp. I do not intend to make any money from this story. Includes sexual situations.“Fucking snowstorm.” He threw his bag down on the padded bench and flopped down next to it. All flights out were cancelled, and he was going to be stuck here. Hell of a way to spend the New Year. No one he knew was in town any longer, they had left this

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-91987401824153243662007-02-24T23:38:00.000-05:002007-02-24T23:39:39.113-05:00

What had just happened?He stood in the park, looking up to the waning moon. Nothing was making sense to him now. This morning, no, 20 minutes ago, the world was full of possibilities and he had it all in his sites. Now, it was all scattered to the wind, tiny pieces of paper shredded and tossed. He sat on the edge of the fountain and looked at his reflection.She had said no. He thought she

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-2214188389380847702007-02-18T10:10:00.000-05:002007-02-18T10:13:37.486-05:00

Some thoughts on what it is like in the first blush of a crush: Would That IWould that I could take your daysand fill them all with light.Would that I could end your dayswith crystal pure starlight.Would that I could ease your mindand keep your woes at bay.Would that I could sprinkle joyon your every living day.Would that I could shoulderall the problems that you face.Would that I could carry

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-90236823494013949782007-01-28T08:54:00.000-05:002007-01-28T08:56:22.814-05:00

The Heart Is A Chronicle of JoyThey come into our lives totally unexpected. At times when we feel as complete in our being as we can get. We don’t desire another soul. Not just people, but animals and characters. When we write and create the images of fictional beings, they become real to us, they talk to us.Animals. You don’t think you want a pet and you could list the reasons why you don’t want

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2284947419970668283.post-27892623817624840532007-01-21T07:11:00.000-05:002007-01-21T21:36:59.429-05:00

FantasyFound in the cellarAmong dreams and dustNext to hopes and plansThe desires of differentAway from what’s knownSaving sanity from departureYou have it within.

Ravenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05044260685388048550noreply@blogger.com3