An Arist's Inspiration

An artist needs an Inspiration
Whether big or small
To create works of great sensation
For people short or tall

But when an artist does not have
What he needs to create
It may be problematic, 'cause
Art's not left to fate

But when you find yourself in need
Of this sort of muse
You can get up off your feet
And go out on a cruise

Out there you'll see, that the world
Is a much bigger place
With lots of things to create
In almost endless space

There, I said it, now go off
And create some things of glee
And then you'll find your Inspiration
Is stronger than the sea

The Light

This is #2 of those poems.

The light is something
All of us can see
I do not really
Feel it close to me

As if the light
It was afraid to be
The sense of good
And immortality

The feeling of
Safe security
The one I do not
Feel close to me

Friends

This is poem #1 of the ones in my desk drawer.

A friend is something
Most us take for granted
It can also be a person, place, or thing

But I have friends that
I don't take for granted
And most times they make me want to sing

These friends make you
think of things you've chanted
And regret the things you've often said & done

So please, don't take
Your friends for granted
Unless you do not plan on having fun

Been awhile

It's been awhile since my last post, and I want to share a couple of poems I had found in my desk drawer that are pretty old. I probably won't be posting weekly poems anymore, not enough time.

Into the Wild reaction

I would like to begin by saying that I like this book so far. When I began reading it it seems that the people treat "Alex" as a sort of crazy person and that they don't know if he knows what he's doing and it seems that he recieves a lot of criticism from people.
I think it is necessary to take risks and to challenge yourself, however I think he took what his risk to a bit of an extreme. Like maybe he didn't know what he was up against and bit off more than he could chew. But it is important to have experiences in your life that challenge you and let yourself know exactly what it is you can do.

Meet the Spartans: A review

Meet the Spartans: A movie review by Rhomus

Meet the Spartans, what a joke… figuratively speaking. A comedy that spawns from the usual antics of the team that made Scary movie, Superhero movie, and Date movie. My point of this whole matter is that they are all exactly the same. I don’t know how many times you can make the same movie and have it still be good. All of the comedy in the movie is a sort of lowbrow humor that is all extremely predictable.
My opinion of this movie I would think is evident at this point, I hate it… and it is actually the only movie that comes to my mind when I think of movies I hate. There aren’t really any parts of the movie I can say I honestly liked. It was like the same joke, over and over again. To be honest, I don’t know how I sat through it.
The theme of the movie is we follow the story of 300 (Which I haven’t seen, and maybe this movie would’ve been funnier had I seen the real thing) but we follow this particular story with a comedic twist.
The main characters are takeoffs of the various people in the actual movie. Though their appearances are slightly altered (Leonidas’ wife is Carmen Electra for instance) and well known pop culture icons are inserted into the mix. These specific people are obviously people that are “news worthy” and everyone knows about, so everyone get’s the joke.
As a conclusion: the style and the overall tactics that the director uses for this movie are exactly the same as every other movie of the type. In short, this movie possesses absolutely no originality whatsoever and makes me feel bad that I even sat through it.

Weekly poem #4

Weekly poem

Evil

He grips his mace
with both his hands
destroying grace
in all the lands.
He kills us all
with blood so cold,
he stands not tall,
for myths are told.
With wind and rain,
we'll make him pay
for those all slain
on this sad, sad day.
We know him not,
for he shows no face
and with rage so hot,
leaves deafening trace.
With the deaths so high,
and conscience so low,
he is not nigh
to the places he’ll go.
from hell he comes,
we’re sure of that
and with broken thumbs
has never sat,
to rest, my friend,
for he needs none.
He will not stop,
when day is done.
he's out there now
and must be stopped
you ask us how
he can be topped.
Afraid, he saw
that much is certain,
when death will draw
the final curtain.
I don’t know how,
you wish to save
there's no hope now
from his echoing rage.
He does not stop
until he’s dead
with the mace atop
his dreadful head.
I tell you now,
so heed my warning
I will die for thou
on this great morning.