At work today in between miscellaneous running around, I made time to do this. First up, the original sketch as I scanned it with my phone.
Once it was scanned with my Galaxy Note 8, I digitally inked and coloured it using Autodesk Sketchbook.
As always, let me know what you think.
I was reading about conveying ideas with minimal detail and I came up with this vampire.
Here is an even simpler one without the fog.
As always, I would love to hear what everyone thinks.
Cheers, Winston
Well….. I’ve made it through NaPoWriMo with at least a few brain cells intact. Now that I’ve had a week to recharge the batteries, I’ve decided it’s time to remedy that. I’m going to seque into a new format. Instead of writing a poem every single day, I’m going to try and put up something creative two or three times a week. It may be a poem, or a drawing; a bit of short fiction or an essay on something of interest to me. Whatever it may be, the page will continue…
THE OLD WAYS
I take a little bread and milk,
And put it in a bowl.
I leave it for the little folk,
Who live beneath the knoll.
It’s best to always care for them,
For then they’ll care for you.
But if you don’t, you cannot guess,
Just what it is they’ll do.
If you should be out on the green,
And hear a piping song.
Or someone fiddling merrily,
You must not tarry long.
The little folk all love to dance,
They’re merry ’tis no lie.
If they ensnare you with their tunes,
You’ll dance until you die.
There is a hole a hidden way,
Which leads beneath the sod.
Where dwell the folk of legend still,
Safe from invading God.
I know you’ve heard of treasure there,
Such riches so they say.
But do not try to find that hoard,
I beg you stay away.
For all you’ll find is fairy dust,
Which gets into your mind.
‘Til you forget the real world.
Drift off leave all behind.
Now in the morning mist I see,
The long grass start to sway.
I know the ancient folk are out,
To start upon their day.
So honour them, these folk of yore,
Your offerings prepare.
For though you may not see or hear,
I swear they still are there.
The folk of legend, little folk,
Dwell still beneath the hill.
And dance and laugh and sing each night,
I pray they always will.
Cheers, Winston
So, I forgot my Apple Pencil at home today so had to take yet another approach for this one. It was done on my Samsung Galaxy Note 8 using Autodesk Sketchbook software.
As always, I’d love to hear what you think 🙂
Cheers, Winston
Morality For The Lost
A demon danced in dead man’s shoes,
His face turned to the rain.
An angel raged on through the night,
Adrift on seas of pain.
A babe new born an orphan lost,
Alone and powerless.
A demon too far gone to curse,
The angel cannot bless.
The babe, a child, grows up alone,
Ward of a careless state.
And still the demon dances on,
The angel curses fate.
The child becomes a young man now,
Most think he has no chance.
He’s seen the angel, knows his rage,
Has learned the demon’s dance.
He’s done some bad, he’s done some good,
He’s learned what’s right and wrong.
It isn’t what you do but why,
That drags your soul along.
A demon dances in the rain,
He wears a young mans face.
And those who see him watch in awe,
Angelic rage and grace.
He sees no absolutes in life,
In terms of wrong or right.
To him there’s only shades of grey,
Invisible at night.
Cheers, winston
When I was a kid, my brother Jack spent countless hours winding me up with ghost stories. He took a perverse delight in terrifying me. We had no hydro or TV and the nearest neighbor was miles away. I guess I was his entertainment.
He had a knack for turning the most mundane thing into a source of pure terror. For instance…. a flight of stairs.
The Cellar Stairs
A narrow stair, a slippery stair,
A stair into the black.
To take this path, to travel down,
Is never to come back.
A basement stair, a cellar stair,
Just how far can it go?
What’s waiting there? What’s lurking there?
If you go down you’ll know.
It’s just a stair, a simple stair,
There’s nothing there to fear,
Then why the shakes, and why the sweats,
Each time that you go near?
A wooden stair, a shaky stair,
It waits to take you down.
To every terror you can dream,
Your very soul to drown.
A dreaded stair, a hated stair,
You’re frozen at the top.
If you should slip, if you should fall,
You know you’ll never stop.
A proving stair, a testing stair,
Your brother eggs you on,
If you complete this trial then,
Your fear will soon be gone.
A haunted stair, a cursed stair,
This brother told you so.
And now he nudges you a step,
And says you have to go.
A treacherous stair, a fickle stair,
You want to flee this place.
You turn to go, you turn to run,
You foot slips into space.
Triumphant stair, victorious stair,
You plummet to your doom.
Your brother calls down from the top,
“Now I’ll have my own room.”
Cheers, Winston
For years I suffered from crippling social anxiety, stress and depression. It took a long time and a lot of hard work to get to where I am now. This poem is to help people understand three who are now where I was then.
It’s An Illness, Not A Choice
Another day has dawned and I,
Still lost within my mind,
I wander aimless through it’s halls,
By memory designed.
I know that I should face my day,
But Iangorous I remain,
For in my mind all things work out,
And I control my pain.
The voices in my head come out,
And talk to me all day.
They laugh and fight and carry on,
They race about and play.
With all that goes on in my head,
The real world fades.
I get lost in the wonder of,
My own internal parades.
My friends all say I should get out,
And join the world again.
I say I will and mean it too,
I’m kind of vague on when.
I think today may be the day,
Start planning in my head.
But now it’s dark and here I am,
Still planning in my bed.
So here I am and here I stay,
Can’t say when I’ll stop by.
For I am trapped here in my head,
Enough to make you cry.
Cheers, Winston
Reading some Poe earlier lent tonights verse a more macabre air. Infidelity, vengeance and remorse…. Enjoy!
Ghost of a Romance
You come to me, you cling to me,
You beg what I can’t give.
You shade, you fade, oh spectre rude,
I can’t help you to live.
You shriek, beseech, and weep at me,
You swear you were so wrong.
You never loved, could never love,
To someone else belong.
But I walked in, I saw the truth,
The two of you entwined.
Then something broke, my heart was broke,
And broken too my mind.
I don’t recall, I can’t recall,
What happened to this day.
But I suspect the worst because,
You’re hounding me this way.
Forgive me love, for love we shared,
When love was bright and new.
And I’ll forgive, forgive you love,
That peace may come to you.
Cheers, Winston
My Dad and I didn’t always see eye to eye. But despite that, we never gave up on each other. Keeping those lines of communication open gave us the chance to grow and change and grow together.
This poem is for my Father,
Thank You
So Father’s Day Rolls ’round again,
I want to thank my Dad.
I learned so much from him it’s true,
So much more good than bad.
When I was young I could not see,
Sometimes he did know best.
But now I know ’cause I’ve had time,
The things he taught to test.
He wasn’t right all of the time,
But no one is it’s true.
He did his best to raise us right,
Good people in his view.
My Father passed some time ago,
I miss him to this day.
I am so glad that through the years,
I found the words to say.
So thank you Dad for all you gave,
And all you taught to me.
You taught me how to find myself,
And who I want to be.
Cheers, Winston
So, I was drawing during my training again today (it’s that or doze off every five minutes). The dwarf below is the result of all that learning 😀
Cheers, Winston
Brain Bits To Go 