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Let's have some sort of contest within this group. Have we had any yetpreviously? We could do a poetry contest, or short story, or any other idea. Then we could vote for the top three favorites. We could have a theme as well, for instance "the end of Summer and thearrival of Autumn".

A HEAP OF BROKEN IMAGES As long as I strive, I err.As long as I’m alivethe world will never change its waysbut the still sad music of humanity,sick of its business, lays wasteits powers, is too much with us,sings, celebrates its own hollownesswith its dried voice,quiet and meaningless.To live, to err, the artist indifferent,invisible, impalpable, imperishable,I go to encounter.There is no conceivable answer.Sleep, forget our Star,while you chasten and subdueeverything we once were.

...you should go by this... I. CHAPTER EVALUATION- a. is the first chapter interesting? b. doees the first chapter introduce the main characters? c. is the setting established? d. is the conflict established? II. SCENE EVALUATION - a. is there a clear where and when? b. does it appeal to three senses? (sight, sound, smell, touch, taste) c. does the scene advance in the story? d. is there a begining, middle, and end? III. CHARACTER EVALUATION a. physical description? b. a past? c. distinct way of speaking? d. reveal who they are by actions/thoughts/appearance/speach ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ characters are strongly drawn, clearly seprate, and developed. past or future? conflict of story is clear. importance of it to characters is convincing. actions will produce new situations which will produce new actions. chartacters will struggle will their problems in interesting and meaningful ways. story will have a satisfying and logical climax. where the story takes place is clearly drawn and has an impact on the story. reader will experience the story through multile appeals. appropriet amout of the story is shown rather than hold.

If you go to my blog (last page) I wrote two articles titled "Summer Songs" and "Summer Songs Update". Do you have any favorite song with summer in the title or with summer as the first word in the song? Or how about just a song that brings back sweet summer memories for you? Every year I get older summer fades away quicker than the last. Thecalendar says summer ends 9/21, but the weathermen say it ends 9/1. Most of usconsider Labor Day Monday to be the end, although nowadays football startsin mid-August and so do some college classes. Am I the only one that thinksthis is a tad silly?

On August 19th a series of Archie Comics is coming out involving Archiepossibly marrying Veronica. I read Archie Comics as a boy and got my daughter involved in reading them, so I am curious. What do you all think? Good idea or bad idea?

8/12/09 At 4:20 PM I went for an evening walk a little earlier than usual as rainand thunderstorms were sure to arrive soon, as they so often do here in thesummer in southeastern Virginia. The weather changes quick and the weather changes often, and so I have learned to rely on the activities of birds to keepan eye on my surroundings. As I turned the corner to leave the neighborhood and walk to my favorite field I noticed a low dark cloud hanging just above me, nestled among a backdrop of white, fluffier, friendly clouds. Where did that come from I thought? Ever since I was caught in a crackling thunderstorm at the far end ofa golf course I have been very lightning conscious, that long run for cover is oneI never want to recreate again. And the cloud kept changing directions, as if it was taunting me, makingmy uncertainty even stronger. I immediately turned around and picked up my pace, longing for the comfort of my home and two dogs. Time began to standstill. My normal walk is at least 30 minutes but this fearful one would last exactly 15, but it seemed much longer. Then a strange thing happened. As I entered the comfort of myneighborhood the cloud suddenly seemed higher and further away. I couldtell it was gently moving in one direction, Northwest. The unusual activities ofa large group of sparrows and a lone mourning dove on a nearby roof seemed normal, whereas a few minutes before they had seemed suspect. Sometimes in life we really do walk under a dark cloud and there isreal danger, but sometimes in life we create danger in our minds that keepsus from taking risks and achieving our dreams. Walking under a dark cloud is a metaphor for the fears in our mind, whether real or imagined. It is up to us to figure out which is real so we don't miss out on life.

This is the first poem I've put on here. I hope you like it! Flashes of America Lightning thunder a crash then America falls. The Flag! A Broken Flag! The Flag of Moloch! Sways in the wind soaked in rain broken by light in the night! Bones soaked by the tears of America. United by love destroyed by the same. Night turns to day by the Illumination! I am deafened! Where is my son? Is he drowning in sand! I am sick! They will fight where to put the sick child! In the Cathedral’s infirmary or the scientist’s lab! Let me stay wrapped in the cries of muzzled Dogs!

I just went out for a walk this evening and noticed the marsh grasses in thePoquoson river are beginning to change for the season. I live in southeastern Virginia near the ocean, the Chesapeake Bay, and the confluence of severallarge rivers, mainly the York and the James. It is a beautiful area, it must havebeen quite a site to Captain John Smith and Pocahontas back in their day. I have noticed over the years that the marsh grasses, which for some reasonI used to think were ugly, change more often than the four seasons, they lookdifferent at least once a month. Today on August 13th they suddenly looked a much darker brown than on August 12th, going from maybe a Crayola Burnt Sienna to a Raw Sienna, with some areas of even Raw Umber. Pocahontas may have noticed the "Colors of the Wind," but I wonder if sheever paid attention to the "Colors of the Marsh Grasses". Like a lunar monthlycalendar cycle they are nature's way of signaling change, and we are powerlessto slow it down. Over time we lose loved ones to age and the cycle of birthbrings us new joy to replace the sorrow, and the marsh grasses paint a gorgeousportrayal of our harmony with our surroundings, a metaphor of our time on thisplanet. At 6:03PM I stumbled upon two large birds I had rarely seen before, theylooked like Herons or Egrets of this area but were neither blue nor white, theywere grayish-brown. As I approached the larger mom flew straight up into anancient Virginian Live Oak, and the smaller one tried to follow. He flew up atan unusual angle and didn't make it, stopping halfway, looking out of breath if that's possible, his long beak out of proportion to his gangly frame. Strange to see flying lessons in mid-August, most are in April and May. I imagine soon I will see them swooping together across the marsh grassesof the Poquoson River, taking in the colors from a view a few feet above the surface we humans will never get to see.

btw poem 2 sucked so i deleted it. Be free our eyes they sparkled u were mine so much fun boy did you make me shine but the clouds they came and blocked out the sun we wore torn apart i realized what happend but i couldnt run i got up, and saw u fall i cased after u but i hit a wall two souls one love u flew away just like a dove i wanted u back but my prayers were not heard i longed for her but she moved on without a word a love so strong i was unreal i was crushed by this horrid ordeal i was blind but now i can see my caged bird was longing for she wasn't all she could be my friend was missing she wouldn't sing she made me feel just like a king but her future is bright who knows what it will bring she is gone, but still in my heart so now i must begin right from the start. i see my bird as she flies by i know its better but i want to cry her future is bright what will it bring? i miss her still but i will sing is it right? we will see fly my bird for you are free by mike.

http://blog.chess.com/THE_GRIMACE/my-poem-blog this is my newest poem.

Please read and comment :) Peeking StarsThe sky shimmering gold The stars taking a peekYou look at me ,I just forgot how to speakI sit there beside you,A cherished moment coming trueI don’t know what you think about meBut all I care is whether you love meYou continue to sit without saying a thingI start to wonder what’s happening Are you going away or just coming closer?Dreadful thoughts began to showerOr maybe you just want to talk about her When it comes to sadness you are my cureBut did you know ? I began to fearmy eyes begin to fill with tears Am I just a friend ?Are my dreams dying again?I start to cry, but I don’t whyI knew it wasn’t even worth a tryI look at you, and you do too,The truth just becoming trueYou look at me with the most tender eyesAnd I melted ,twiceI just continue to fall into your faceYour hands caressing my cheek, with graceYou came closer ,Your hand around my waistSoft lips touching mineAnd I responded to that touch, which was just divineI rested my head below hisCan everything be more perfect than this?The majestic sky glimmering,The starts are at their peakYou look at me ,And I just forgot how to speak-Phavi Kannan (me)

Hello! Here is the link to my lyrics: http://www.chess.com/members/view_content/Skybax?type=blog I will notify you when I post new ones.

Cold StoneWe were together , and never will beBut I want you there beside me,There is so much more to see than this ,Pain , life , agony just continue to exist ,I want you to go away from me ,But all I say is ‘ please don’t go’Why do you torture me ?But it feels like heaven just soI continue to exist ,But I don’t know whyI just think everything is lie,All I can do is sighI think you’re a jerk ,I think you’re nice All I wish is that..“please don’t make me cry”I am with someone elseAnd you are to You love that girlBut I still love youYou hate me ,But I don’t hate you,I want to move on But I do not know how .All I want is you to be with me ,Somehow …I have become a crystal ,That just experiences painThere was always something that I can’t say,Is that ‘ poison was deep down my vein ‘- Phavi Kannan (me )

Hey all - here's a poem I wrote 2 days ago... I might still tweak it in a few places, but I'm not sure. Maybe it's finished. Tell me what you think, eh? LIKE INSECTS The grace of your downcast glanceanimates this still ink, see? Like insectsit pulses, coils, flexes, lives onlyas you look.Vulnerable in the same sense,you can kill it easilyif you decide it disgusts,but if it colorfully fluttersyou might be convinced that you wishit would alight nearby, share spaceand beautify with its momentary presence.Why is it we enjoy fixating our gazeon a resplendent insect? Is it theminiature intricacy of their design,the engineered efficiency of proportion,the way we can zoom in on singular,glistening segments of carapaceor discern with aimed perceptionthe fibrous texture of a wing?The innate way we appreciatethe exacting grasp the delicate,pluckable legs possess as the insect rests for us,the curious instinct we cannot resistat calculating the interior experienceof this entity; which, while seeminglyinsignificant at first, exponentiallyaccrues significance to the degreeof intensity that we apply and sustain.You can only find what you contain.The compassion of your continued gazegoes as your soul decides, see?The insect’s seeming fickleness asit “picks” where it lands, correspondsto your interest, to the inscrutableobjects your interest selects, sometimesbattering itself against a pane of glass,sometimes moving outward likea legion of gathering ants,sometimes aggressive and cruel as wasps,sometimes as purposeless and excitableas grasshoppers, sometimes as sensuous,languid, and effortless as self assuredbutterflies, sometimes as singular andhumble as the ascetic moth.All this applies to poems.Segmented, distinct, particular,organic and artificial at once,eliciting quickly our visceral,unconscious response.So we see the way the Flymakes feces its theme, courtsreeking shit as if no other substancemakes sense (those poets who connotetruth with base crudity, know no othertechnique to move the reader otherthan to give offence), reveals itselfso obviously with it’sirritating buzz.The lady bug is feminist, writesof nothing other than the femalesin her family, captures only mereaphids of minds in her one-note capability.The centipede is stream of consciousness,never turns its disparate, equal, endless legsinto singular wings, and so never leavesthe ground, but crawls on incessantlyrepeating the same utter nonsense.On their bellies they will remain.The spider has sense enough to beobscure, to not share, to keep its secretsand only show itself to those who mightfind its wonderfully spun wisdom insome obscure corner. Clever, sure,but captures only enough to endure.The mosquito you don’t notice tillit’s too late, infiltrates the poetrycommunity subtly then sucks it dryby bringing it all to herself singularly,ingratiates herself in some niche, numbsthe surrounding flesh with her PC poison,and commences making a parasitical livingon the scene. Must be smacked immediatelyupon recognition. The ant is all business,no inspiration, still, it gets mediocritypublished, thinking only of its Queen-Magazine.Maybe the bumblebee is best, it dancesin its community, communicates the pathits found the flower muses with its friends,hums pleasantly and moves with a slowand certain fluidity, intoxicating itselfon the muse of pollen, holding back its barbsas a last resort, pleasant, dedicated,effective, professional, the bee getspublished as assuredly as honeyis produced in the hive of academia.The firefly surprises with the flashof its personality, saying hey-see-me,acting out, neat special effects fora second, ultimately forgettable.The daddy long legs wishes he werea spider, long past his primeand an embarrassing parody,has no bite, and is picked apart easily.None of them compares to the Dragonfly;ornate, unique, independent,fascinating, elaborate, rare,able to hover and demonstrateits personal nobilityand complete expertisewith its multifarious, encompassingeyes and unassuming mastery.We didn’t name it dragon lightly.This is the genius and inheritedidentity, the very emperor of insects,discrete and definite in its activity,impressive with its clever,complicated simplicity.

please comment :) Blood Crystal bleeding from a blood crystal,the heart is where it lies ,where no truth is defied a weapon of destruction...love had gone awry your gone...you said you'll return ,days are passing just sowhere did you go?I just don't know Waiting on your word ,a naive thought ,"I know you'll return"a double edged sword...assassinationcold , dark and a shivering sensation you said you were sorry ,and you said that you loved me ,everything was perfect...not anymore,was it just a phrase ?have I been replaced? Love taken from me ,ripped , slashed and tornEverything gone from me ,including my soulWhat's wrong with me? I still do not knowIf love is sacrifice Where did it go?Forever gone , my heart and my soul I'm not myself anymore heart stabbing truth ,I have to escape this void,earth isn't home anymore ,everything was a lie won't this hell ever rise? bleeding from a blood crystal,the heart is where it lies ,where no truth is defied a weapon of destruction...love had gone awry -Phavi Kannan I hope this is good for a 13 year old

On my blog I previously posted a column in which we tried to invent haiku with chess themes (yes the plural of haiku is haiku, go figure). To refresh your memory, a haiku is a type of Japanese poem consisting usually of three lines containing 5,7, and 5 syllables. Here are my submissions to start us out. If you all want, we can vote onour favorites. For first prize, well there is no prize, just the utmost satisfactionof knowing one is the finest haiku master on Chess.com, and really, isn't that enough? Chess-descent intoUtter madness and chaosSweeter than sugarHere's another one of mine:Chess-obsession-loveFit's like a permanent glovePassion from aboveYou get the idea, a third try:Bishop hated the Queen and her pawns-loyaltySix point jealousyOne last haiku:Zugzwang ZwischenzugI can't move-caught in-betweenZugzwang Zwischenzug Now it's your turn. Please keep them clean and remember 5,7, and 5syllables. Also, try to keep them chess-oriented but others are acceptableas well .

This is a salad I eat almost every day. I think I will name it the Dianna salad. It is a little nutty, kind of cheesy and fruity but oh so flavorful if you can stand the unusual combination: The Dianna Salad mixed greens and fresh herbs fresh sliced mushrooms fresh sliced strawberries dried cranberries and/or any other fruit you like slivered almonds crumbled feta cheese wine vinaigrette dressing mmmmmmm...it tastes really good. Just leave out the ingredients you don't like and suite your own taste. You can have a flavorful meal that is easy to make and you will want to eat it every day.

The Power of the Attitude The beginning of the day has come. One of the most important choices you will ever make is set before you. How will I choose to behave and/or react to others today? In what manner should I pursue the day? Ponder this throughout the entire essay.What I am about to discuss is this decision that you are given. It begins when you rise from your bed, and ends when you lay yourself down to sleep. I am going to discuss the power of one's attitude. If one awakens and dreads the day to come, despising the very thought of the process, they are usually in a sorrowful and complacent mood for the remains of the day. The cause of this is that they have their minds on the negative aspects of what is to come and what they must experience. This is a common phenomenon, as it is only human nature to act on one's emotions. But we must realize that we are not flawless, and our emotions do not always function in the fashion most preferable to us. What we must do when we are dreading the negatives of the day we are only assuming will come is push the doubtful emotions away and savor the moment. Realize that this is a part of life. There are many occasions in which we must do what we do not desire to do. This is when we must acknowledge that it is unavoidable. One cannot change the fact that they must do what they must do, but they can change their perspective and attitude toward those things which are to come.The attitude is an ominous tool which has the power to either make you or break you in this journey through life, and one must be trained in how to use it most effectively for the benefit of themselves and the benefit of those around them. Another point I wish to express is that one's attitude is quite contagious. By now you are aware of the fact that your companions in this journey put you in high regard. Our decisions matter much more than we often like to think. One's attitude can have an influence on another attitude, which can have influence on another attitude, etc. etc. This is one of the main reasons why a single attitude can be as dangerous as I warn that they are.As I have previously stated, it is only natural to act on your emotions, but this generation is often afraid to face the fact that this is a foolish and unwise decision. One must learn that they cannot always control their emotions, but that they can always control the attitude, though can be quite difficult to do. In conclusion, discipline yourself and train yourself to control your attitude. Once you have mastered this dangerously essential technique, it will become natural to you, and you will become a more personable individual.

Recently, one of my friends began to write poems for herself... I realized it had been a while since I wrote anything with a rhyme. Now I would like to dedicate this poem for her: I would like to sing a heartfelt song,To ease the feeling of this trance.It's her I've thought of all day long,And I fear I've fallen in romance.The thought to share a summer kissInvades me every hour;To gaze in eyes that never miss,I wouldn't have the power.I'd freely give my beating heart,For her to know she is my love;And for me to hate would only startIf I could count the stars above.But what words am I to findThat truly state my feeling?To let her see that I'm not blind,Or say, "You're only dreaming"