Tag Archives: inklingwriting

Poetry

Shining Reverie – Brooke Safferman

Shimmering reverie,
Where the statuesque mountains tower over uncharted streams as alert as you did
Those vivacious, pulsating nights as the stars did shine
Though not as bright as your wildfire eyes
And though not as bright as your electrical mind
Nothing can compare to the impulses of within
The internal itches that make one roused with a perverse delight,
Nor the external urges that make one tremble with anticipation of the indefinite, the unguaranteed
One time you instructed me to follow your lead
I agreed, dutifully, loyally, stepping along
My bare feet made ever-lasting prints upon the marshy rapture
My steps were to the pace of my own rhythm
But the sweet, sweet melody in the background,
Well, that was all yours.

You showed me, with a grand, sweeping gesticulation of your right arm
All that the world is composed of,
From the arcane way that blades of grass can be split down their centers
And create two out of what previously was only one
To the way moss grows upon pavement built of brick,
Creeping into crevices and finding itself a new home in the spaces I had never known to previously exist.

I suppose, in theory, you hadn’t provided me with too much
But yet, you thrust upon me a landscape, un-gated
A world of boundless expansion of the mind,
Reaching further and further into my nebular abyss

All you ever did was introduce me to life
But without such an overture as enchanting as yours,
I would have never known how simply sweet the melody is:
(The melody that we stepped to on that dazzling, radiant evening)

The Anthem of the Living.

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Prose

Buildings – Reilly Wieland

@reillzz — Instagram

Describe a building as seen by a man whose son has just been killed in war
– Do not mention the son, war, death or the old man

Tall and dark, drawn with heavy hands and thick lines. It seemed like the creator had too many late nights, too many mistakes, too many eraser marks that somehow got carved into the structure.
It wasn’t like the buildings that lined the streets surrounding it, there was no alabaster finishes or silver lined doors. It was just dark, and not in the sense that you hope for dark things to be. Out of place, almost.
The building and the ground surrounding it both were the color of volcanic ash. Cigarette butts littered the pavement, but no smokers. Bird shit everywhere, but no birds, no trees.

Describe the exact same building by a lover.
– Do not mention love, the lover, or the person there

The building was sterile, but in the same way that the labor wing of a hospital was. Clean, dark, but promising. You could look at it and consider all the flowers delivered to it, the hiring hand shakes given between its marble walls. It didn’t need a silver lining to be entrancing. The exact roof of the building was covered in greenery, dripping off the edges and down into the top floor windows, standing like hair when you first come back to school. The vegetation could only be seen by whoever got close enough the edge of the structure.

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Prose, Prosetry

11:46 PM – Bela Sanchez

11:46 PM – Bela Sanchez

@be.la (instagram)

 

all i went in to do was turn off the light, but then i saw them. all those pieces of me that you’ve been taking away, so small that i don’t notice each one until i see the gaping hole in my chest. i’m no brick wall, but you still have the uncanny ability to break me down. i don’t know what i’m writing, but i have to write something, anything, to fill this void, because tea and breathing exercises aren’t working. i’m sorry i get so stuck-stuck-stuck on words but i’ve heard if you say something enough it stops having any meaning. no matter how many times i write “i-miss-you”, it still sounds desperate. every rule has its exception. i’ve grown too accustomed to saying “i’m just tired”, when what i mean is “i am sad and i don’t know why.” but i haven’t slept in nine days and i’m living off coffee-induced dreams and trying to grasp some shred of exhaustion, so i think it’s a fair excuse. i can’t seem to remember how it feels to be so passionate about something that you fall unquestioningly into it each night. we’re driving so fast and i’m begging you to go faster because i want to know how the stars sound at the speed of light. i want to know how much it would burn if i got too close to the sun because I’m not suicidal but i might be staricidal. i can’t wrap my head around the edges of this universe and i can’t wrap my head around you. i wonder what the stars look like when they’re falling asleep.

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Housekeeping

Welcome to Inkling

Hi!

I’m Reilly Wieland, a teenager and high school student based in Austin, Texas. I’m so excited that you are visiting Inkling!

For all who don’t know what Inkling is, it’s a teenage and young adult based writing platform. As a creative writer, I found it hard to get my writing out into the public eye and to other writers. With that, young writers are always struggling for ways to expand their resume. I found it really hard to find websites that would take my writing because I had little experience. You can’t get experience because nobody wants you to write with such little experience. See the problem?

I’m pulling together this community because all of my writing friends have been so important to me. I  love having other people online to write and share with, and I want to spread my love of it to teenagers everywhere.

It’s super easy writing for Inkling- with no commitments throughout the first few posts (or until you chose to become a staff writer) If you want to write for Inklings or want more information, feel free to email me at reilly@inklingwriting.co

Happy Writing,

Reilly

reilly@inklingwriting.co

 

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