I am a 16 year old creative arts enthusiast, with way too many dreams and ambitions. Check my 2nd ever blog for more details about my hobbies.
Sunday, 12 December 2010
Best of the rest: xbox 360
Saturday, 4 December 2010
Does poetry have to rhyme?
Monday, 22 November 2010
Poem a month fourth entry
Poem a month fourth entry
The key to her heart
The key to her heart, isn’t easy to find. And most people just lose their mind.
The key to her heart, just where could it be? Is it really impossible to see?
The key to her heart could be anywhere. As this is a game, that just isn’t fair.
Could it be inside a treasure chest? Or hidden somewhere, in a birds nest?
But that’s to obvious a place for it to be. For an item like such a precious key.
Could it be camouflaged on the floor, in a cupboard, behind the door? In a box, or on a shelf; but then I suddenly thought to myself.
The key to her heart, is a poem like this, giving her such a moment of bliss. And as she reads the poem, her heart starts to open. As it was wounded, but now repaired; as her heart is no longer broken.
Sunday, 7 November 2010
Miloism of the month 3rd entry
Friday, 29 October 2010
poem a month 3rd poem
Through the fire
Through the fire there is misery, through the fire there is pain. And through the fire there is a boy, who will never see his family again.
Through the fire there is devastation, through the fire there’s no hope. And through the fire there is a boy, who is finding it hard to cope.
Through the fire there is horror, through the fire there is loss. And through the fir there’s a gang, who wanted to show the world whose boss.
Before the fire there was a boy, who was quietly laying in bed. When suddenly the house was alight. And all of his family were dead.
Through the fire he saw the smoke, through the fire he saw the flame. And through the fire he knew; who exactly was to blame.
Through the fire there was an exit, through the fire there was a drain. And through the fire he climbed down it; in the pouring rain.
Through the fire he called the fire-brigade, through the fire he nervously waited. And through the fire he knew; what a war this fire had created.
Through the fire he wanted to kill them, through the fire that’s what he said. And through the fire there were so many thoughts; running through the small boys head.
Through the fire the boy sat crying, through the fire we knew what was wrong. As this heart broken boy sits on the pavement, he knows his parent, are already: gone!
Must be the music live final
Monday, 25 October 2010
Review: The umbrella academy- apocalypse suite
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Firebox press event
Friday, 8 October 2010
Short stories
Snow White retold
As the mirror smashed to the ground, so did my hopes and my dreams. Everyone says I’m the evil stepmother; some even call me a witch! All my life all I have ever done was care for my beautiful step daughter, my precious Snow White... After her real mother died when she was just a baby, and her father abandoned her, I took her in and looked after her. She was everything to me, all I have ever done was protect her; from him: the evil servant. Let me start back at the beach 10 years ago. the beach was a place where my mother use to take me when i was a child. it had beautiful rocks, and the sea was as clear and as blue as the sky above us. the bright green palm trees standing there so tall like soldiers with their branches reaching out into the heavens. I had gone off to get us both an ice cream, when he first appeared in her life. He tried to make her go into the water, he tried to drown her! As I walked along the golden beach, with the sun blazing out at me; not everything was fine and dandy. I ran over and pulled her out of the water, he had left her to drown. she was only a child.
All throughout her life he had tried to separate us, yet I never saw his face clearly, except for once. He stared at me, I saw deep into his eyes. That pure look of insanity, his face practically spelled out the words evil. Face like a disease, scars you on the inside, yet shows no traces of damage on the outside. I think he loved me, I mean why else would you want to get rid of my dear Snow White? Snow White was a perfect step daughter, so kind, caring, and always really considerate towards other people. I had always wanted her to be a model when she was older. The mirror was my present to her for her 8th birthday. She was a precious rare gem, she was simply one of a kind...
We lived together in a nice little house. It had blue window frames, and dark orange roof tiles. The bricks were a dark red color and we had flowers of every kind, and color growing in our front garden.
I hired a servant “ Why do things yourself when you can have someone else do it for you? ” , is what i always use to say. I had seen his advert in a leaflet that was put through my front door. The servant was of a short stature, not tiny, but more on the short side. he wore very plain clothes and had a hunched back.
I said to him, the servant: “ Why don’t you take Snow White out just for a bit of fresh air; whilst I get on with my housework? ” He agreed to this, but I never did see that evil smile appear upon his face as he turned away from me!
As Snow White walked through the bright green woods, she could hear the birds calmly singing; with the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass gently filling her nostrils. As the warm breeze slowly brushed against her face: she never saw what was coming next; and neither did i! He lied, just like he had done every other time. He told her to run, and never return. He said as well that i had sent him to kill her! Guess he wasn’t a murderer after all, just didn’t have it in him.
He came back to the house, he walked over to me.
“ Finally we are alone my dear ”
“ But where is Snow White ” I asked?
Don’t worry; she is safe” he lied.
I am not usually an aggressive person, so this was completely out of character.
“ Get out ” I screamed!
In fear, he shot out of the house, not even thinking to look back. He ran past the old wishing well and raced down the smooth stone pathway. I must have seemed like the Devil myself; with the fires from Hell burning the ground beneath me! I sat alone and thought to myself how Snow White must be feeling right now. I felt so guilty for letting this stranger in to our home: what have I done? I had failed her, how could i have been so blind: was i really a bad mother?
After a few days I faced my demons and went to see her. I hoped that she would not have believed the servant that i had sent him to kill her. Whilst walking through the dark and gloomy woods, the trees hung over me like hands reaching out to grab me! A man suddenly approached me.
“ Where are you going young lady? ” he asked.
“ I am going to visit my daughter ” I replied and, “ And don’t i recognize you? ”
“ No, i don’t believe we have met before.” “ Here, why don’t you give this apple to your daughter?” he said to me.
He held out the apple. It’s bright green surface glistened in the sunlight.
“ I picked it freshly this morning from the finest tree in the forest ”.
“ Ok then, thank you ” I said to the kind man.
I carried on walking down a long, bumpy pathway. I reached a small peaceful cottage. I wondered if she was there; but as she softly sang to herself from inside the house, I knew it was her. Her voice like waves, gently hitting rocks. So soft, so calm and so relaxing. I walked up to the front door; it was small and red. I decided to put my hood up, I couldn’t risk her realizing it was me. Even though I had done nothing wrong, she would feel it was my fault that the servant had come out here to kill her. All I wanted to do was find her, make sure she was alright, then come back when I am ready and the time was right… I knocked on the wooden door, it felt all rough. Like it had spent all it’s time doing good, when in the end it only takes a beating for all the bad in the World. The door opened.
“Hello deary” I said. “ I am starting up a business around here delivering apples to your door ”. “I was wondering if you wanted to try a free sample? ”
She said yes and offered to pay. I insisted that she didn’t. I walked away knowing she was safe; yet still crying inside.
A few days later, I was sitting alone in my house. I heard a horn; I wondered what it could be? As I looked out of the window, a very well dressed man rode by on a horse. I wondered if he could be Royalty, maybe a Prince? I saw as well what appeared to be the Prince’s loyal companions and courtiers all dressed in extravagant red velvet. I quickly grabbed my coat and went to see what was going on. A big crowd had gathered. I stood at the back. I could see at the front seven small looking men: I wonder if they were dwarfs? And then there was a coffin. I couldn’t see who was inside. I peeped through a gap in the crowd; it was Snow White! My heart sank. I started to panic: how could this happen? What had happened? I managed to calm myself down. “ i prayed that somehow she was going to be alright ”, I told myself, please just be alright. The Prince got off of his horse. He was tall, handsome with a very good posture dressed in the finest satin in the land. He looked like a strong and fierce lion on the outside, but inside he was a soft, sweet and kind puppy. He walked towards Snow White. He bent over; he gave her a kiss. Everything went silent. Everyone anxiously waited to see what would happened, then suddenly; her hand twitched! Her eyes slowly opened. “Where am I ” she asked rather confused. “ You are safe now my dear, replied the Prince.” “ Come with me to my castle. ” he added. The two of them rode off into the sunset. As they set off into the distance, I stood there: sad, heartbroken and all alone.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
The best of the rest- original xbox
Sunday, 3 October 2010
miloism of the month 2nd entry
Friday, 24 September 2010
poem a month 2nd poem
Bacon boy
There once lived a boy, who looked like a pig. He had a small tail, and his nose was really big.
He lived on a farm, in the country side. Where he sat alone each day; and then he cried.
“Why cant I be normal, like a real by? Why can I feel emotions; like happiness and joy?
One wish was all he would need. Then something special happened indeed.
Then along came a witch, who was rather nutty. And she turned him into; a nice bacon butty.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Miloism of the month
Sunday, 15 August 2010
Poem a month
Ant girl
There once lived a girl, the size of an ant. She would walk and walk until she started to pant.
Ant girl didn’t rally have a home. So she would just sit in the shade, all alone.
Until one day, Ant girl met a flea. “Do you want to be friends with me?”
The flea said yes, and climbed on Ant girl’s back. But left Ant girl with an itching attack.
The two friends would be best friends forever. But what I thought wasn’t quite so clever: Was that Ant girl had said that size doesn’t matter. Just before a shoe; ended the two friends with a splatter.