Oklahoma City I’m here!!! I’m so excited to be here for the Sport Of Kings Challenge and tomorrow’s eventing clinic! And what better venue for all these exciting festivities to take place than at the gorgeous Remington Race Track! So excited to be here! #sportofkingshastheselfiequeen #OTTB #RRHP (at Remington Park Horse Racing)

20 Dollar Nosebleed

Zachary had just gotten his lunch from one of the delis in town. It was one of the few places he frequented, seeing as it was within walking distance from Rhapsody Hall, but still far enough that most of the other techies there preferred to order in or visit one of the diners or pizzerias a few blocks closer. But sandwiches were better, fewer people in line, they could be hot or cold, depending on the California weather, and they were portable. If he didn’t finish now, he could stick it in his backpack and get to it next time he had a spare second. Sandwiches were good.

He was just about to head back in the direction of the concert hall, intending on taking his lunch up to the roof and sitting there to draw. He had over a full hour, seeing as the rig that the tour had with them hadn’t taken long to put up, and all that was left was to do a dimmer check and see what they had programmed. The sound guys had taken over the hall for the time being, so he couldn’t even really do much. He was just happy to have the time to enjoy his lunch in peace, he had an idea in his head, one he really wanted to get out on paper.

But fate wasn’t a fan of him, obviously, because as soon as he tried stepped outside he felt himself collide with the door, someone apparently pushing it open the same time he was trying to pull. The next thing he knew, his lunch was on the floor, the iced tea from his glass bottle oozing onto the floor, and his face felt wet. That couldn’t be right… he wasn’t on the floor. Zachary brought his hand up to his face, wiping at his lip for a moment before he pulled it away for a second, seeing blood. Fuck… He looked up, eyes meeting the other person’s, and for a moment he looked absolutely irate. Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one. Zachary took a deep breath, wiping at his nose again before mumbling, still sounding vexed, “You own me a sandwich…”

Any Practiced Catholic Would Cross Themselves Upon Entering

“So, which girl haven’t you slept with yet?” 

The voice made Gavin look up from pouring another customer a rum and coke, snapping him from the sounds of several instruments going off in his head.  A symphony for another song. His gaze left the ice filled glass to one of the club’s regulars, a man Gavin simply knew by the name of “Lou”; a kind old man who enjoyed the dancers enough to worry the bouncers and drank enough to keep Gavin in his apartment with his tab alone. This question was often asked every night, since Lou drank enough to forget previous conversation. 

“Ah, Lou. You know a gentlemen doesn’t kiss and tell.” Gavin chuckled, taking the money and handing off the drink to the customer waiting on his rum and coke. 

“Come on, Lad. I am sure you slept with most of them. I recall it!” Lou exclaimed, and Gavin had to practice some humility. While he was not the kindest individual, more so cocky and arrogant than unkind, at times, his lack of working in the field of his choice made him irritable. Especially when it came to loud drunken men asking about his sex life. 

“Don’t make me cut you off, Lou.” He warned halfheartedly, the man before him grumbling before taking another drink. The threat of taking away liquor was always Gavin’s go to to keep Lou from asking who he slept with. Which, the answer was simple; Gavin had slept with about two or three girls in the burlesque club known as Crescendo. 

His eyes roamed one of the new girls, and he thanked whatever God’s existed for this job. It wasn’t the fame and the stardom he wanted, not by far, but it paid the bills.. And the view was pretty nice. One cannot really complain at the sight of pretty woman dancing and winking at him. 

He felt someone watching him and looked up, seeing someone at the bar, arm outstretched for a drink. A newcomer, not one of the regulars. He rushed to them and smiled with charm.

“Welcome to Crescendo! Sorry for the wait. What can I get ya?”

Poetry technique

When the inspiration hits me I write it down immediately as is. For me I prefer freestyle. I focus more on rhythmn  than rhyme.

I have nothing against structured verses though. If poetry is a form of art and art provides freedom than it should not matter.

There is something about reading a rhyming poem that is fun and if done right can still have meaning. Sometimes, when rhymes are done well they could even add to the meaning if the authors has a rhyme scheme. I wish I could give an example, but I have no text available.

Contemporary has it merits, but for different reasons as traditional. Contemporary poetry allows the words to move around. I have read poems and prose in class that had different styles. The words will be clustered together to emphasize feeling crowded.

If have heard that the amount of spaces in the margins versus the space taken up by words can mean a lot. Less is more, but the empty spaces can speak volumes too.

My thoughts are free flowing and fleeting so I just use a line break when it fits. A lot of times the wording is good or on the right track the first time around.

I keep it short, but mostly because I am the type of person that can go on and on. I know a long poem would just end up being too long. Doing short poems can be a hassle to at times. I take it too literal and attempt to shorten lines by omitting words, but that just make it sound awkward.

With writing in general you use your imagination as a guide. It can be a blessing and a curse at times. My mind crowded with ideas. Lots of times the timing is off. My random mind fuels my train of thought and when it get to much, well perhaps that is my self-conscious nagging me and telling me ‘This is a good idea. Write it down.’

Hey mom! Look what I’m bringing home for you from Oklahoma courtesy of Miranda Noyes who won this baby at tonight’s auction! I think this will be Patrick’s good luck charm for the #RRHP this October! Thank you Miranda! 🐎🐎🐎#lovemymama #ottbguru #oklahomasmostwanted (at Remington Park Horse Racing)

A Tribute to Hades and Persephone

An enchanted arrow struck the cold heart

of death’s King.

Onyx eyes soften to grey

as he glance upwards

not towards glorious Olympus, instead

at the sight of a warm Goddess.

A mighty God and King

brought to his knees.

Lonely King whose name is feared

to be spoken.

Judge, juror, prosecutor, and ruler

of souls

death is his kingdom.

Keeper of cold jewels, valueless to Spring;

Goddess of Spring misplaced amongst death.

A flower though the key that

unlocked the ground.

A flower brought life to death.

His heart bled crimson as red

as six seeds

bonded Spring below the ground

as dark as the living world above due to her mother’s grief.

Icy tears that have covered the lands.

Cold grief blocked the sun.

Trees dead and bare

when the leaves fell with the Goddess

and captured the last colors of life.

The Dead’s King’s love

eventually returned Spring, but

near of far, even separated by a veil

they were still in love.

Every year, leaves re-enacted

a Goddess’s first descent in Hades.

The marker of Darkness and Lights reunion.

Maiden no more,

A king alone no longer.

The destroyer of light, Persephone

Queen, wife, and companion she became.

Stormy Seas

There was a coffee shop, right next to the ocean that Frankie enjoyed going to when she wasn’t in a hurry. Knowing she could get lost watching the waves roll in to meet the shore. She was there now, the sea still rough from a storm the evening before. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” She loved storms, of course. But she also loved the ocean, it was one of the best parts of living in Harmony. 

Playing For The Silence

Sophie was looking at all the new instruments in the music shop, admiring the guitars and keyboards, those were the instruments she actually knew how to play. She was saving money for an apartment, and hadn’t really found any jobs since she’d got here. Not that they’d been here long anyway… but for now, she couldn’t buy any of them she didn’t want to ask her parents for too much money. They’d already helped out quite a lot… she wanted to earn everything on her own… But she could admire for now. She found herself sitting down at a gorgeous piano, she’d played a few times enough to play a song with few issues. And she did. She started playing the first song that came to mind, one she’d written, it wasn’t complete but it was something. From that, she went into another, not even realizing there was anyone else in the store. She didn’t sing, but she did hum along, quietly. She wasn’t quite bold enough to sing alone. Not yet.

xpianoman asked:


  • A secret from when they were young.

“How young? I’ll say under the age of thirteen… I used to have the biggest crush on my art teacher… I was convinced for an entire year I was going to be the next Vincent van Gogh, or whatever the artist of the week was, he was my teacher sixth, through eighth grade and it was the only other time I’ve debated not following my parents foot steps… I saw him right before I left home- Still handsome as ever…” She laughed. “Can’t say I blame little me.”

anonymous asked:


  • Their worst fear.

“Being alone.” She said, without pause.  "Without Davie, without my parents… Not having anyone who cares, there for me. I’ve always had my family and Davie’s family too. It was scary leaving them behind… but he was with me, so it was okay… But I don’t know what I’d do if he left me too… I-I guess kind of… another one is losing Davie… You know… like… something happens, an accident… I don’t know what I’d do with out him…“