Writing 201: Trust, Acrostic, Internal rhyme

Of Blood and Hunger

Suddenly, you look up at me
And I fear I’ve slipped again.
I see the darkness in your eyes,
Nothing cures this terrible hunger,
Tears on snow and the bright, wild rose
Simply hold us back.

Do not cry, my love,
I will hunt you a feast
Even if it drains from my own heart.

Leave me, that I may find myself,
Only then will I begin to change.
Never have I asked it of you,
Everlasting hunger, everlasting pain.
Leave me so I may join you.
Yours, faithful. Yours alone.

OKAY! That was fun. Clearly, I’ve been reading vampire books again. This was based off The Clodest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black, but looking at it, it seems like it could have been written by own of those freaky hangers-on in True Blood (fangbangers, I think they’re called? I used to read the books.)
Anyhow, hope you enjoyed.



As per usual, I missed a day…

Writing 201: Journey, Limerick, Alliteration
I thoroughly failed the alliteration bit, but thankfully, having been addicted to tongue-twisters as a child, I am quite familiar with them.
So, yesterday’s poem (yes, I did write it yesterday, I just didn’t post it) is a two-part limerick about madness.


We spend our days in the rain
Losing ourselves to the pain
Cigarette smoking
And dead-thing stick poking
Until we start breathing again.

I couldn’t last a day
In reality, you claim
But inside my mind
You’d fall, you’d die
Shove your opinions up your *ahem*


Faux-Country Boil and the Moose-mallow


Here in California, we don’t really have any good-and-proper regiinal dishes. At least, not this far inland. So I made up my own version of a low-country boil. The entire thing cost about 12 bucks, and lasted two days (one dinner and one breakfast, for two). I call it a Faux-Country Boil because I didn’t follow any of the recipes, I just sort of threw shit in a pot and hoped it worked (which it DID). I’ll have the recipe up at the end of the post.
And now, the Moose-mallow.


I have the weekly pleasure of working with this little butt. He doesn’t have a proper name, but I call him Moose. Later, Iriarty came up with the idea of calling him Moose-mallow, because just a week ago, he looked like a wiggly marshmallow. Right now, he’s a full four weeks old, pure white, and we’re fairly sure his eyes are slowly turning brown. Side note: I work at a rescue shelter here in NorCal. Also, Moose peed on me today. Fun stuff.
Okay, I hope you enjoyed puppy pics. It’s recipe time.

Woad’s Faux-Country Boil

3/4 lb shrimp, raw and deveined, shells on
2 4-oz lobster tails, halved
1/2 lb beef chunks, pan-fried
1 lb new yellow potatoes, quartered
3 ears corn, sliced into thirds
1 shallot, sliced
Old Bay Seasoning  (or some approximation thereof)

Boil a giant pot of water with sliced shallot and old bay to taste. I use about a handful of my own recipe. Dump in your quartered potatoes and pan fried beef. Boil 10 minutes.
Add the corn and lobster tails, boil 5 minutes.
Last, dump in your shrimp, skin still on, and boil another 4-5 minutes, until the pink shrimps start floating to the top. Strain the liquid off and dump the lot onto a plastic-covered table.
I suggest serving with cocktail sauce, melted butter, salt and pepper, some good bread, and a little bowl of sour cream for the potatoes.


Writing 201: Water, Haiku, Simile

Right, so it’s  actually a Tanka, because I can’t write haiku without sounding like a five year old. Go check out the writing201 tag, you’ll find some awesome shit.

Moonrise like water
Your lunch runs for fear of death
Your golden eyes bright
So small, you fear no evil
This werekitty owns my heart.

Written in reference to Lacy from the “Real Vampires” series by Gerry Bartlett.
Clearly, I’ve been reading fiction again. There will likely be more to come…

Hello, Internet

I do hope you’ll enjoy this world of mine. If you have met me in life, you will be shocked to know this is what goes on inside my head on an hourly basis. Or, perhaps, you won’t be shocked at all. Come in, sit down, and have a cup of tea. This might take a while.