Poem #3: Anger Management

I'm finding several old poems I wrote in High School that really aren't that bad at all.

Anger Management

 by Austin Ballard

Your foundation is easily shaken.

Inside, bubbles will burst.

And before it is over, rivers will flow.

The slightest tremor will unleash your fury!

Violent whirlwinds of rage storm outward, and consume!

No one escapes from your belligerent flames!

Quench your inferno! But no.

A thousand hungry wolves could not stop your anger.

Your gaze could crack the boulders of time.

The torrent of red continues!

The winds of blazing insanity envelop me!

It was just a joke!

Story #2: En Route to Vegas

Hey guys! Here's a new story, basically creative nonfiction. Well... it's fiction. I changed what happened. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. I'd really like some feedback and suggestions for my writing.

"En Route to Vegas"

by Austin Ballard

Story #1: Brazilian

Finally! A story! This one is technically nonfiction, but it's creative nonfiction, so some things are exaggerated. I don't want to clog up the entire page, so here's a link to it instead.

"Brazilian"
by Austin Ballard

Poem #4: The Partner's Revenge

I know you're all sick of poems and want to see some prose. Well, so am I. But no worries!(as the Australians would say) I'm learning loads(as the Brits would say) about literature and what makes it good. You can expect to see at least some chapters from stuff in the near future.
A little background on this poem... it's inspired by the song by the Decemberists The Mariner's Revenge Song, and even fits with the music for the most part. If you want to sing this poem of mine to its tune, feel free to listen along here to the original to get the music down.

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The Partner’s Revenge

Austin Ballard

Sir, would it be a crime

To take some of your time?

Just take a look behind that pane.

All calm and nonchalant

Inside that restaurant,

And here am I out in the rain.

Sir, do you think it’s fair

That he sits in his chair,

And I must suffer in the cold?

It makes no sense to me,

Under this sopping tree—

I guess our story’d best be told.

Years ago, that man you saw was a friend of mine.

But alas, our friendship never stood the test of time…

We were the best of mates,

Building bridges and city gates—

Perhaps you’ve heard our company’s creed.

Our every profit shared,

Our business unimpaired

By selfish envy, spite or greed.

Then one day my friend and I made a new advance.

The key to challenging our rivals’ business stance…

But then behind my back

That friend of mine attacked,

And claimed the credit all his own.

He grew to wealth and fame,

The firm forgot my name,

And I was left a beggar all alone.

Funny how quick a man’s renown can all disappear…

Dragged away, his laugh the last thing I could hear…

Oh look—Is this his car?

With its window ajar?

Looks like, indeed, there’s Providence!

I’ll drop a present in—

A pleasant gift for him

Something to prove the wretch he is.

The deed’s already done!

It’s time for me to run—

You’re free to tell them if you’d like.

But what’s an eyewitness

To a man who doesn’t exist?

Such a beautiful counter-strike!

The Mirror

A thousand kudos for whoever can figure out the interpretation of this elusive short vid!
A deep meaning managed to slither into this video through a crack I didn't even know was there. Who knew that, through the wackiness of a webcam(my only means of recording), my own unconscious brilliance, and probably Providence, a profound, almost poetic significance gleams in a hidden corner of this vid you may be able to find!
Hint: Look at the clock.
Highlight below to see the spoiler meaning:
As the clock is clearly backwards, we can conclude that the personage in the mirror is the real person, and the person on our side is in fact, his reflection. The real person(the reflection from our point of view), looking at himself in the mirror, resents his own way of life/the person he has become and leaves in disgust.
The reflection(the real reflection) is slightly awkwarded out, acknowledging with slight confusion that he is merely the reflection of light onto a shiny surface being reflected back and nothing more; Therefore, wonders the reflection, what has the person against something as inanimate, phantom and nonexistent as I?
The person thinks nothing of this; he thinks nothing of the mechanics of light reflection and is in fact disgusted with some concept far deeper: himself as a person.

Spotlights for the new year!

I hope you almost-nonexistent Blogwatchers are excited! This year is going to be a doozy for Pretzel Lectern! I got Adobe Premiere Elements for Christmas, so some awesome new Vids are going to be appearing soon. And to put the icing on the already iced cake, this semester I'm taking a Creative Writing class and a Literary Analysis class! That means MANY MORE writing entries this semester!

• Poems!
• Short Stories!
• Quite Small Tales, perhaps!(Though, those come regardless of what classes I'm taking)
• Theatres!
• Vids!

The classes are helping me to learn all about how to string literary works together and find out how to make them drip with imagery, swell with tension, and quiver with conflict. Interestingness and awesome new creations shall abound in this new year of Austin's Pretzel Lectern !

Poem #3: Lost Dreams

I wrote this poem in late October for the one I love on her birthday. I share it now with her permission.

Lost Dreams

by Austin Ballard

I have chanced to awake on occasions rare

When the window’s light reflected a lost dream.

I tried to grasp it from the sunshine’s beam

But the girl of my dreams was never there.

She was not real, just a golden gleam.

Life went on at a steady pace

All of my comrades found true love.

Love singing sweetly like a turtle dove,

But I was losing in the race.

Futile seemed the search thereof.

Then I grew to love a friend

Writing from far across the sea.

Her written words were gold to me

Our correspondence had no end.

My heart was locked; she had the key.

I see that true love is a real thing

Her kiss I always long to feel.

She’s not a girl from a dream, but real

Her cheek’s warmth makes my heart sing.

I ache for together our souls to seal.