Category Archives: CHAOS

Play/Write by Ryan Hodge

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Play/Write banner with a video game character on the left, and a pen on the right

-Ryan J. Hodge

For someone who enjoys a great story, is there anything better than a narrative that engages you from the very start? Imagine a world so rich you can almost smell the scents in the air, a delivery so clever it forces you to think in a way you never thought you would. I’m Ryan J. Hodge, author, and I’d like to talk to you about…Video Games.

Yes, Video Games. Those series of ‘bloops’ and blinking lights that –at least a while ago- society had seemed to convince itself had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. In this article series, I’m going to discuss how Donkey Kong, Grand Theft Auto, Call of Duty and even Candy Crush can change the way we tell stories forever.

What RPGs Teach Us About Creating an Ensemble

Most kids in my generation grew up watching shows like Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Voltron, and other dynamic action shows featuring an ensemble cast. Which of these personas we adopted on the playground could actually be viewed as a partial reflection of what qualities we valued. Kids who wanted to play as Leonardo tended to want to be leaders, Raphaels were more inclined to just fight, Michelangelos had a penchant for silliness, and Donatellos… were the fourth one.

Donatello the Ninja Turtle

Oh…fourth kid.

Now a group of people coming together to solve a problem is nothing new, narrative, of course; but there seems to be something in particular that is compelling about these particular kinds of shows –especially with the younger crowd.

What’s very interesting about these stories is their inclusiveness. It’s predicated on the notion that neither one individual nor skill set is sufficient to solve the problem. You could be the greatest warrior to have ever lived, but if your mechanic can’t maintain your equipment; then there’s only so much a naked warrior can do against a tank.

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Poetry from David Newell

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SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

It might come too soon for my taste
perhaps on old age rot
perhaps a truck may take me there

Some go by plane
Some just shoot themselves or jump
from a favorite bridge
or promontory

Some might not notice at all
dazzled by rainbow light –

infinitely fading into something else –
over the rainbow

THE POEM SAID

While you slept
I was in the air, in the atmosphere
many times

Many times I’ve left you there
while you slept

While you slept a poacher
could’ve harpooned you
while you dreamed
of sleeping seals

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Poetry from Jacob Holtgraewe

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Who Am I?

I am not what I am today,

nor what I was yesterday,

for simply I am what I am not.

Thus I am not what you see,

instead, what I aspire to be.

I am never truly one.

I am ever changing.

What you see today,

is not what you will see tomorrow.

And who I was when I wrote this line,

is not the same me that wrote this one.

I am not who I am now,

rather, who I will one day become.

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Poetry from David Ishaya Osu

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1.

CONVERSATION

think of a rain
without
a brain, think
of a fruit
without
a flesh, think
of a cake
by an april
fool, think
of a bull
without
a ball, think
of a tongue
without
a song, think
of your god
without
a gun, think
of the moods
without
a moon, think
of a sea
without
a seal, think
of tomorrow
tomorrow

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Poetry from Mei Du

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Lullaby

 

A long horn

travels from the other side of the city

to the window of my bedroom.

I know

These are horns

from the freighters.

The distant sound

covers my bedroom,

as well as the world outside,

where trains run and vehicles rush,

where people come and go.

The roads and streets are not so far away.

They are right there

outside my screen window,

through which the sounds seep into

and slowly sink in my room.

 

For a lot of nights,

my window screen worked as a radio.

From it, I heard the small rain hitting the roof, the

rustling sound of a television, the

soft crying of a baby, and someone’s

bedclothes fluttering in the wind, and sometimes,

the crisp sound of flipping on a light switch…

 

For how many nights,

I fell

asleep

with the background music of the bustling city.

 

Poetry from Y.X. Xia

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Something About Love

The only thing is I can’t even see it on my phone. I tried to download the most recent version and it is not the same thing I found the day before. I go back on track and I love it, but on the other hand, it is not the best way before the years came to be a good little thing with more attention than I thought I could hygiene.

The following Poems were written with Apple’s Siri. Full details released later.

Dangers

I need to look it up

on the wheel again.

If you could logically

become whole people,

work hard with difficulty

of the harbinger come

and a little meat on what boo-hoo.

Why don’t you hold on?

It will kill the floor.

 

Hole in One

Your butt hole

to mislead you,

testify you,

or give it more question,

but on the whole

woke up hot:

it could walk

the Puppy.

 

Poetry and an essay from Andrea Carr

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Feelings
What’s wrong with you?
Something is… what more can you want.
Why, do you find a way to be a part of everything?
I let you run free whenever, you are welcomed guests being pleasant and courteous.
 Not enough time doing that. I guess, I didn’t expect the desperate neediness you possess. When I finally got in touch with you.
To be lurking constantly before, you find an opportunity to pounce on someone.
It is good being honest with you, to express you being here trying to get out. Acknowledged.
When I feel like it, okay.
Fyi:  it is not always good, sharing the meaning behind you.
So what should I do then, to remain nice and yet, tell the truth about, how I am feeling. Without, hurting the feelings of others.
You sure ask a lot of me.
And, you. You started this.
You keep introducing yourself to them.
I didn’t want half of them to meet you.
So, it’s my fault to have so many.
A typical, man’s answer.
I have no control over choosing when, or which one to let out. They have a bad habit of surfacing most often, when felt.
Just so you know, I don’t try to control what I feel.
Who does?
When, it’s too late.
I have to fight with the most stubborn one’s to wait, having half of a second before I speak.
We both know how successful I have been with that.
Because I act on them saying whatever they feel.
I thought I could do that with you.
So leave them alone. If you don’t like to meeting up to have a chat.
They don’t hate you, you know.
Funny, I don’t hear you complain when it’s passion doing the talking for me…
They probably don’t know what, I really would like to do with them sometimes. No one feels good, always.

 

Andrea N. Carr, author of Family Tree The Novel: Family Tree. 

https://about.me/andreancarr

http://www.amazon.com/Family-Tree-The-Novel-family/dp/1494322846

 

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Writing it down.

I have writing spells where, thats all I want to do sometimes. Especially when, I’m out of sorts I write for cathartic reasons. Otherwise, I need inspiration to write coming at the oddest of times from anything. I must act on it or it hurts. I feel something tragic has happened to me if, I can not express what I am feeling when needed with the written word.
I hate that feeling, so to I try and avoid it ever happening. I started carrying around something to write with most times. It can come off guard so, I use a napkin or anything, I can find to write on at the time.
My cell phone occasionally, comes in handy but, there is something about the written word with a pencil or pen I like most. I thought of a children’s book once when, I was walking my son to school. I had to run home. The whole thing comes to me at once, I don’t want to lose it if it is inspired. If it is longer than a short story it comes in waves each section of the story. I never know what, I will be writing about.
If I do it isn’t the same writing or as close to my liking. That is my biggest challenge, with writing now to find those sparks of inspiration on command. I can write on command but, not be inspired on command. If my environment is wrong I have to get away from it. I can’t be hindered for very long. I like to be alone most of the time, so I can think clearly.
Though I love people, dearly. I take them in doses, my friends are artists and compulsive freaks like me. (laughs) We get on each others nerves sometimes; we are cool though. We are all into our own things but, meet up and share our art forms. I feel frustrated with them because, things of mine need to be read; no instant gratification. I am the whiner in the bunch and want special attention though, deserving because of the nature of what I do. Who wants to come over and read when visiting you. I want everyone to do that, all I hear is “Do I have to read it now?” That is really how my poetry developed. (laughing out loud)
I figure, if I could discipline myself to read having ADD so can anyone else. I don’t understand people who don’t want to do it. I mean, how can you not? You learn things, what other way can be so intimate without having sex with everyone. Sharing thoughts and feeling with a story is grand it’s what life is about. How else can meaningful relationships happen, if we don’t share. (smiling)
I simply adore putting stories out but, fear sometimes, I will be dead before anyone really knows my name in literature. I want to see the impact my writing has on others. My writing is not superficial and has to be taken in and understood for what it is not what is wanted from it. Not with a legacy either, I can’t know about it then. I want to answer questions about it in case, you do not get it at first so, it’s understood properly.

Andrea N. Carr