Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Allpoetry Poets Published by Shoestring Book Publishing

The poets listed without a link are in the process of being published, and when their book is available in the Allpoetry bookstore, we will promptly post a link.

Please consider leaving an Amazon review for an independent author! Reviews are so important, they help sell books! Try leaving a review and requesting a review in return!

Also, please consider purchasing a book by an independent Allpoetry artist today! View a sample of their book on the 'Look inside' on Amazon, and leave a review, and or buy a book!
Carolyn Caudle Castle / CarolynCaudleCas
Domenic Di Biase
James C. Allen / James Allen
Ron Wiseman

These are talented poets, who have worked hard to make poetry books! 
We hope you enjoy!

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

String Quartet Movement 1, By Allan R. Emery

I am Beautiful Through God

Spoken word poetry at the corner Cafe, on Laureate Avenue had come to an end that Friday night. The last poet, Marion Moon had just finished reading his poem,  about how Jesus was his Lord and savior. I thought that it was a lovely poem, and when the poet sat down at a table next to mine to gather his things and finish his coffee, I was pleased to tell him what I had thought of his poetry reading that night.
"Your poem was beautiful tonight, your heart is big!" I said to him with a smile, and a light touch to the shoulder.
Unexpectedly, he grimaced and said, "Nope. Jesus is." and he abruptly looked away, continuing to drink his coffee. 
I felt an uneasiness inside about what the poet had said, and I couldn't resist responding to his callous reaction to my compliment on his poem.
"Jesus is part of you. If Jesus is beautiful, you must be too!" I said softly.
The poet turned to my table to look at me, still grimacing. I felt a sense of darkness about him, I could not explain, but feel. He looked at me with cold eyes, staring straight into mine, as if to say, why are you still talking to me, I have better things to do. I didn't allow his cold stare to penetrate my hopeful heart, and I continued.
"We defeat evil by believing in ourselves, and loving ourselves. Jesus' words remind us of how to do that. I never do anything good on my own, I do good through the Love of God. Accepting God's love through the teachings of Jesus is what makes us beautiful. The reason we teach ourselves to never give credit to ourselves for such good deeds, is because we can easily become corrupted through pride. This you have a magnificent understanding. You certainly have the way of the Spirit, our Lord, God deep within your heart!"
The poet sighed, and began to speak, this time, more intensely, using his hands for emphasis.
"Jesus taught us to deny ourselves, to include believing in ourselves. Even Proverbs says to not lean on our own understanding. Why would I believe in  a sinner who needs Jesus? John 2:24 says Jesus did not commit Himself to any man because He knew what was in man."
I thought this was nice, that the poet understood that Jesus tells us to be wary of confusing good with evil, but I did not see how denying evil pertained to loving ourselves through the love of God's word, and thereby believing that we were beautiful. I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, but what would begin to feel like an eternity to quiet myself, so that I could hear what God wanted to tell me in my heart, so that I would know what was the proper response. 
" So you are saying that your heart is not beautiful through God's Love?" I said exuberantly.
The poet shook his head as if in disbelief as to what I was saying and he protested;
"Apart from Christ I am nothing. If I am something it's because I chose to believe in Him and not in me."
I again, paused. It was clear that the poet was very adamant that he did not believe he could be beautiful through God's Love. Or at least, it felt like that's what he was saying. His words didn't settle right with me, as my feelings were that in order to find God's Love, I believed we must first believe in ourselves. How could one find love if they do not believe in ones self? If I did not believe in God's Love, then I would have not believed in myself. Understanding God's Love had come from within my heart, mind and soul. If I had never believed I could feel God's Love, then how could I have felt it? I knew that the poet meant well, but something about his words didn't sit right with me, I felt uneasy about what he was saying. Not believe in myself, no, I could never agree with that! Believing in myself is how I found God's love in the first place! But on the other hand, apart from Love, Christ, we are nothing. Because without love, we are filled with a void of darkness, which is lonely, and depressing!
The poet continued:
"Belief in Him/belief in me. The two can never meet. One cannot serve both God and man."
The poet continued to stand by his conviction, that he refused to believe in himself. As he spoke, I felt this dark void within him. He never smiled, his face was straight, and solemn. He shook his head again, swirled the last drops of coffee around in his cup. He made a tsk sound as he shook his head and swirled his coffee. I was in mild shock that all this had come from a simple 'well done, good job' on his poem. He went on to say;
"Let me quote something to you from the Apostle Paul when he was the most spiritually mature as a Christian:

"This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." ~ 1 Timothy 1:15

Chief of sinners. Does that sound like he saw himself as beautiful? He wrote almost half the Bible and after being a Christian for 40 years he saw his dependence on Jesus because he saw his depravity before a holy God who loved him anyway. "
If it wasn't clear already that I wasn't going to convince the poet that we are beautiful through the eyes of God's wondrous and magical love, it was becoming pretty clear then. It was like he was separating himself from God, but he didn't know it. I wanted to  help him see the light, but I was well aware that people don't change that often, let alone that easily, by simple conversations in a coffee shop. I knew at that point, that no matter what I said, the poet was going to beg to differ, he would argue with me til the cows came come that he was in fact, not beautiful through God's love. I just wasn't buying it! it did not feel like God's love to throw in the towel and say I don't believe in myself, to believe that I was not beautiful through God's love. It just didn't make any sense! If God is beautiful, and I accept God into my heart, how could I not be beautiful too? Despite my best instincts telling me to wrap up the conversation and call it a night, I went on to say;
"Are you opposing my belief that we are beautiful through the Lord? To deny evil, we must learn to live our lives through the qualities of love, which is God. Yet we are HUMAN, we are ALWAYS going to make mistakes. Accepting this is part of the process of forgiveness. I am beautiful through the Lord. You can try to convince me otherwise, but God tells me I am beautiful through his love. You are in need of letting go of the control you so desire. Laugh at yourself! You ARE HUMAN, and you are going to make LOTS OF MISTAKES. You are always forgiven by God. That is the beauty of Love. We are denying the ego, the part of us that IS human, the sinner. Part of us is human, and part of us is connected to the divine. The point is not to beat the ego up and make it feel like a bad boy who deserves no dessert. We should love the ego just as well, but not let it control our lives. This is how we find peace, is it not?"
To which his response was, "My source is the Bible."
That was all good and well, but there were lots of people interpreting the bible. Bible verses can be taken out of context, as they can seem ambiguous. He was basically using the bible to throw at me the old, I'm right and your wrong, and therefore I must have the last word and be divinely correct, because I am speaking the word of God, because I am quoting the bible. But I knew in my heart, that this wasn't the word of Love, the word of God's love. I still stood by MY conviction, that we are beautiful through God's love. The poet's interpretation of the bible wasn't going to waiver my natural instincts of what feels right and wrong in the eyes of God's love, and that was that.
Yet again, I couldn't resist responding.
"If you have no self confidence through the Lord, how is the Lord helping you be stronger? I do agree with you that  without living a life of love, we are nothing. But you speak as if you do not have free will. There is a part of you that is in desperate need to remain in control. It does not sound as if you love yourself. If you do not love yourself, how can you let God into your heart? Have you truly forgiven yourself for everything?"
I said compassionately. I wasn't trying to argue right or wrong for my own sake, but I had become wrapped up in a conversation with a mere stranger, who was a poet in a coffee shop, simply by saying Good job on your poem! it was the light inside of me, that wanted to touch the light inside of him, although I knew better than to try to convince a bible Thumper of anything other than what his own interpretation of the bible was. Bible Thumpers do not see in any other way, other than black or white. To them, there is no gray area, no outside of the box thinking. To change this type of thinking would take way more than a conversation in a coffee shop with a humble girl and her conviction to show people the light, when they are struggling to understand it through the Lord. But I still believed in miracles, and even though such miracles are against the odds, who am I to say a little conversation in a coffee shop with a humble girl can't make a difference? if it did, it wouldn't be my own doing, but the doing of the Lord, and this is how we are beautiful through the Lord, by shining our light on others. So against all odds, I was fighting the will to give up, and carry on this conversation, in hopes to make a difference, to someone who did not believe we are beautiful through God's Love.
The poet grumbled, he did not address my question of whether or not he had forgiven himself for everything, meaning all of his sins, because what else would we have to forgive ourselves for? he got up to throw his cup of coffee away. As he did, an old man who must have weighed over 300 lbs walked in the door, passing the poet on the way. The old man sat down at a table behind me, and ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. He said hello to me on the way in, and he seemed nice enough. I figured the poet was done with his conversation with me, and I went back to my sketch pad, doodling some thoughts, hoping to create a poem. I ordered a refill on my coffee. I was distracted from my grim conversation with the poet, by the old man who had walked through the door just moments before, who had sat down at a table behind me, and ordered a cake and a coffee.
He had told the waitress a joke, and she really enjoyed it. Prior to that, I had seen the waitress walk by several times with a stale look on her face. After the old man had told her the joke, she had a certain glow about her, and she was smiling more often. The poet made his way back to the table minutes later, he must have gone to the bathroom, or something that would have taken longer than tossing a cup of coffee into the trash can. I was disinterested in having a conversation with the poet at that point, and I was really enjoying the refill on my coffee, extra light, no sugar. But the poet wasn't done with me yet. Seemed he had to have the last word, as he went on to say:
"There are a lot of people who think things that seemingly sound good, even some read a Bible. Without carefully considering what the scriptures say they fail to realize their perceptions and thoughts are contrary to truth, like trusting in yourself. believing in one's own good. Most people fail to read what God has said in a critical manner because what the Truth states implies that we are ignorant, depraved and lost. God chose to pity us because we are pathetic and pitiable and need Him. My self-confidence got me into trouble. I find success in not trusting me, like Prov. 3:5 and 6. We fail to see how we OPPOSE Him."
The poet was now preaching to me, as he gathered this things and placed them into his bag. I heard a chuckle from the table behind me, the old man was laughing, like Buddha. It was rather cute. I had to wonder if he was laughing at what the poet had said, or maybe something he thought of that happened earlier that day. I saw the poet give an uneasy look towards the old man's table behind me, he seemed agitated by the laughter coming from the old man. The poet when on the preach as he gather his things
"The Gospel shows us two things: Who God is through Jesus. Who we are when we get our hands on God."
It was late, and I was growing tired of the conversation. One thing was for sure, we were at heads with what we believed God's Love truly was. I again, gave it a few seconds, and thought about what God wanted me to say, not what I wanted to say.
"I love you, because I love everyone through God. And when I feel someone's pain or suffering, I do my best to tell them what God tells me."
I felt that the poet was suffering in some way, through the way that he was so convinced he must torture himself with ugliness, because he is not a 'good person' because he is human.
"I suggest going back to your Bible. That's all I can encourage." The poet said as he stood from his chair, placing the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders.
"You are a good man, Marion. Thanks for a good talk. We'll talk more next poetry reading. I think I'll have the guts to actually get up there on stage and read one of my poems!"
He began to walk slowly towards the door as he spoke as if he was concerned for my overall well being:
"I'm telling you what God has said because He loves you and because He wants me to say that to you."
He stopped in his tracks as if he was flooded with more to say:
"Jesus said that no one is good but God. Who is opposing Who?"
It was apparent that he was proud of himself for that final statement before walking out the door. God had given him a quote from the bible that would give him the last word, and prove him right before leaving! Once he was gone he would have the satisfaction of not only getting in the last word, but proving my belief wrong, that we are beautiful through God's Love. With any luck, he must have been thinking, he would change my whole belief system, and I would be thinking exactly like him by noon tomorrow! Silly poet.
He reached into his backpack, and pulled out a book of bible quotes, to  which he ripped out a page and handed it to me proudly. 
I'm off to bed so I am giving this to you as a gift. Good night, Bernice.
It was a thoughtful gift, and so I said thank you. And I added;
"I am beautiful through the Lord. Everyone is beautiful through God. Your argument is that we cannot be beautiful through the Lord, but I beg to differ. If God is beautiful, then I am beautiful through God. Great conversation Marion! I will read this tomorrow, I am soon off to bed as well! See you next Friday!"
The poet again insisted as he opened the door:
"What I say comes from the Bible...go to the Source. Good night."
To which I responded with consistency; 
"I am beautiful through God Marion, good night!"
And yet, even though I was not trying to change him, I was simply standing my ground for what I believed in he went on to add, as he stood there holding the door;
"It seems to me we made up our minds. We both have heard what the other believes. Let's leave it at that. Take care... "
I muttered under my breath "Does he always have to have the last word? A sign of control perhaps?"
He must have heard me, because he replied:
"See how un-beautiful I am?"
I suppose he was admitting that he was human, and therefore not beautiful through the eyes of God. I certainly did not disagree that we had our human side, our 'sinners' side. But to me, believing that this is all there is to us as humans takes away from all the magic. I chose to believe we could choose to understand God's Love by believing in ourselves, to have the ability to do so. He was right, we would agree to disagree.
Just then as Marion had pointed to himself, and declared his un-beauty the old man sitting at the table behind me chimed in:
"You are full of crap. 1 Peter 3:4-6 but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.
For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, by submitting to their own husbands,  as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord. And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening."
Psalms 139:14  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.
Psalms 34:5 Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.
Obviously there are Bible verses supporting almost every potential view. Stop trying to bully people like you are a prophet who alone can interpret the passages."
The old man said calmly to the poet, as his chair was facing the door, and the poet spoke:
"Well if I'm "full of crap"as you say then you have the freedom not to listen to 
me. You are so beautiful why do you need a toad like me to tell you anything. Have a great life!"
And with that, the poet walked out the door, and I never saw him at the Corner coffee shop ever again after that night, nor did I ever see the old man again either.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Heart and Sky

The many pigeons cooed synchronously outside of the rusty paint chipped window, of a 27th floor high rise Bronx micro apartment. Life wasn't looking good for me. Everything was overdue, including the rent. The electric had been shut off that chill morning, and my will to live was quickly rotting away, inside of a filthy roach infested 300 square foot apartment riddled with candles, and empty pizza boxes. I was anxiously pacing the worn hardwood floor, clenching my knit sweater with one shaking hand, and smoking a Marlboro red with the other; destitute of all life's happiness and magical wonders.
Chester Brinks, My beloved fiance of three years had left me three days prior, for another woman. We were to be wed that December, after Christmas. Our honeymoon was to be in Hawaii, over the course of the New Year, 2015.
Before my darling Chester had packed up all of his belongings and abruptly walked out of my life forever, I was a pretty happy girl. I wasn't sure where or when our relationship had gone amiss. I was completely oblivious to the reasons why his love for me had trickled down the tubes of no return. He had fed me some trite reasoning, such as, "It wasn't meant to be" and " Maybe this is for the best, Kas ..." His brief and heartless ramblings left totally void of any good sense. I had always been faithful and supportive.
I plopped my rear into the tattered egg chair, guzzling tequila straight from the bottle, momentarily retaining a small blink of hope that if I had drank enough of an upper, it might halt me from ending my suddenly meaningless life. The Smith and Wesson resting upon the night stand honed into my peripheral vision, which had become double vision. I had carefully placed my index finger to the cool trigger, and held it to my temple, as I glanced at pictures of us taped to the stucco wall; I busted out crying, hysterically. I then placed the gun back down onto the particle wood table, greedily gulping another swig of Jose. I had been fiddling with the gun most of the day.
There was no longer anything that I should have had to live for. Every reason that I had for being, was tied up into my relationship with Chester. I had known no other life, as we had eloped together, to live with one another at the ages of 17. Chester had made a way for us as a mechanic, and the job at the record store, was the only job I had ever known, and even that would be ending soon. I was all alone, and helpless, except for the company of a white and orange goldfish, Chester had won for me at Coney Island that summer. I was working a minimum wage job down on 5th street, at a local record store which would be going out of business in a months time. I hadn't gone into work since Monday, three days time. I was a 'no call, no show', but everyone knew why I wasn't there. Jodie my best friend, and my only friend who worked at the record store as well, had pleaded with Cisco, our boss, not to fire me for disappearing. She had left me several messages explaining her pleas with Cisco, and how it was working, and he was taking pity on my sorry ass, and that I should return to work soon.
I was estranged from my financially loaded parents. It's the old story. I had chosen not to go to college and rather drop out of high school and  move into an apartment in the projects with a 'bad boy'. I was a disgrace to them, and they had fully disowned me.
I had one sister, and one brother, both older than me. We didn't speak much, however, and Catherine, my older sister was a high powered lawyer, and Dustin, my older brother was an architect. I was the looser of the bunch. The alcoholic drug addict, with the low paying job, and the blue collar fiance, with no ambition and no real direction in life, other than to please my man.
At that point, I didn't care much for niceties, or anyone with a hand out anyway. Jodi continued to call me about thirty times a day, or at least every hour, since Monday. I ignored all of her calls. She left me several messages, alternating voice mail to text. Something like:
"Hey kas, call me"
"Hey Kas, I haven't heard from you in three days, call me"
Hey Kas, you can't hide in that shitty apartment forever, call me"
Hey Kas, I knocked on your door for like an hour, I know you're in there,call me."
Hey Kas, Don't let that ass Chester leaving you ruin your life forever! Call me let's talk!"
And such.
The sky laid out a curious crimson and gray, just like my heart was ... and somewhat, barely beating, and then, beating exceedingly fast, it would race. I much enjoyed the way the weather mirrored my emotions. I felt for the first time in three days, that the world truly understood my misery, and the sky reeked anxiety.
I continued to drink as the fall's breeze whisked through the creaking window. The rain was rolling in as the sounds of the pigeons coo began to dissipate. I hadn't spoken to a single soul except for Fishie in three days time, and Fishie was a great listener! But just like everything else in that shitty apartment, Fishie reminded me of Chester ...
I drifted off into a drunken stupor towards the balcony, thinking of Chester's blonde Mohawk tickling my shoulder and neck, as we slept on our mattress on the floor. I stupidly looked back at the mattress, loosing my balance, dropping the bottle of tequila onto the floor, and breaking it. The sound of the glass crashing onto the floor had startled me, and I jumped up, bashing the top of my head against the window pane.
I heard ambulance sirens in the background making their way down  the dangerous Bronx streets, as I had finally found my pathetic way onto the wet balcony.
"I have nothing to live for." I sad softly and convincingly to myself ... I stood at the railing of the balcony.
I was beginning to believe I was suffocating and I no longer could breathe, then came the panic attack. Not even the tequila could self medicate me enough to feel okay. The pain was getting worse, and I no longer could bare it anymore. Memories kept flooding. Memories I could not forget, and I could not move on. I had to end it. I had to end the pain.
The rain began to pour down, and my C.D. player shuffled to Fred Durst's version of Behind blue eyes. My eyes were green, but there was no doubt, that even behind the pouring rain, my tears were very real. The flashbacks of Chester would not stop. It was then I decided to jump.
I could hear the phone ringing from inside, which I ignored.
"Nobody would miss me if I went away"  I whisperd to myself . Everything was spinning, and I heard Fred Durst's voice:
"Save me, save me, before I drown ..." 
But I didn't want to be saved. I wanted the pain to end. 
I climbed the railing to the top, and helped myself over to the other side. I thought about Fishie. Who would feed Fishie?
"Save me, save me, before I drown ...." The music played.
My white night gown underneath my sweater, was flapping violently with the wind.
"Maybe love ain't what it seems, cause it's all a dream, forgive me, sometimes I feel like a fool, cause I'm so uncool, forgive me ..." 
Then, right before I hurled off the balcony, I felt a moments peace.  I took a deep breath in, and leaned forward. As I did, I saw people stopping below, gathering in drones, pointing up at me.
The next thing that happened, was very weird. I had awoken in a bright white room, strapped to a table, unable to move. I began screaming;
"Hello, hello ... is anybody there? Is this hell?" ... Was I dead, had I gone to hell for my sins, or was this real life, was I still alive? I couldn't even pinch myself to check.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Madison 5 Years

This drawing was originally in color, 
but I don't know where that version is at the moment.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Ali's Art Collage

I like to make abstract doodzles,
 of hearts and flowers and things,
with color pencils, and pens
paint various wooden things 
from the craft store, 
and paint horses, scenery 
and abstract things 
with acrylics on canvas'.  

Bunny Collage

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Writers Who Wish to Publish

Hi, my name is Alison Breskin, or as most of you may know me, DeviantPixie on Allpoetry. I've had a dream, all of my life, to be a published author! Well, a few years ago, I published my first poetry book, and I had so much fun publishing my book, I decided to keep writing and publish more books! As I learned about the publishing industry, and how to properly edit and design a book, I began a small partnership publishing company with Allan Emery. Since 2012, we've helped over 20 Allpoetry authors publish their books, and make their dreams come true! What a wonderful feeling! If you have a dream of being a published author, please contact us now! We'd be tickled pink to publish your work for you!



Have a blessed day friends!

Alison Breskin

Violet's Kismet

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Free Kindle ebook Download!

In return for your awesome 
free kindle ebook, 
please leave a review! 
Good bad, just be honest, 
this author would love to hear 
what you thought of her book!

Mr. Marshmellow says Hello ...

Friday, August 1, 2014

Violet Fairy

She is the violet
mistress of the dark
the angel of love
the fire that purifies.

Her eyes are maelstroms, 
vortexes of love
hidden in frustration
longing to be set free.

She loves completely,
though she fights it,
for such love brings
disappointment and 

Yet, in lucid dreams 
she sees the answer
is always to love more.
Listening intently,
she smiles herself to sleep.

By, Joe King

Loving Someone With ADHD

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

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Thursday, June 26, 2014

I Am the Lucky One

Days stretch vaguely
across time
like the sky-
and your heart is, as, 
the accumulation of stars 
i've prayed upon
     when young ...
  leading me home

and no-one knows why,
brilliant light illuminates
several years,
the noblest


fades underneath
      the blanket clouds

when i reach
for the love
you've placed
within the crease
      my palms
i realize,
i am the lucky one

Friday, June 13, 2014

Outside of the box

I am alive,
breathing oxygen, thriving tissues,
composed to orchestrate a body,
which functions, all on it's own
without my conscious thought.
I am what happens beneath
the cells of working dreams
and minerals bound to organs,
I am the beams, and yet,
I have built nothing.
People are moving,
through an atmosphere
gasses are drawn to earth
for reasons unknown.
And, still,
there are people who think
because they have a small green piece of paper,
or a fancy motorized hunk of metal,
or a certain face, or body or clothes
they are something they can define.
I just smile,
at the people who define themselves,
who know little of the true workings
of the busy heart.
Thinking outside of the box,
is simply understanding there is no
real definition of who we are.
And the minute I begin to think
I know exactly who I am,
I am reminded,
I was built by a force,
I do not understand.

Visit My Publishing Website!

Visit my publishing website!


Monday, June 9, 2014


Interesting how, 
some will 'make it'
other artists, will dwindle 
with the dust of unknown death.

I've seen opinions stretch as far, 
as the Sahara Desert.
Thoughts elaborate a collective taste,
and delve as far as or discord,
over personal matters of the heart.

Yet, all that matters in the end,
is how we loved, or how we tried,
to love, and even if we were terrible 
at loving, are we nothing in ourselves,
without the thoughts of others?

What we can strive to understand,
sometimes, we need to leave the clan.
But the heart knows, and the mind wonders.
And sometimes, we stretch our horizons, 
to learn something new, love someone new.

Yet, we always love who we've loved.
Because the human condition, is imperfect.
No matter how the artists fasten his binoculars,
and gazes across the vast desert of life,
we are ever growing from a drop of hope.
Desert flowers, miracles of will,
and little rain.

Classic Allpoetry!

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Violet's Kismet

With a new love, strange paranormal experiences, visions about a local crime among schoolmates and her grandmamma remarrying a man Violet is not fond of, life is more complicated than ever. 

Since she gets visits from Angels and other beings, and her mother’s journal says she witnesses the same kind of things, she decides she must see her Grandfather for answers. She skips school with her first love, and encounters a freakish microburst upon arrival. 

She discovers her grandfather is a Mexican Bruja. He tells her the family has prepared her for ‘this moment’ all her life, in dreams, and that she has proven strong enough to face and defeat the Loco Oscuro (The Crazy Darkness) and save the entire family. 

Violet defeats the dark forces with the power of her will, her families love and four helpful ghost soldiers; which turn into brilliant rays of light. Violet’s Grandfather tells her of the harsh personal realities of being a sorceress, and the difficult choices it creates, that may change her life forever. 

Saturday, May 3, 2014

The Golden Winged Euckinorn, Chapter 1, Introduction to the Three Elfin Kingdoms

Once upon a time, a long, long, time ago, before Christ, before the Romans, before Hammurabi's code even, there were three magical, or one, not so magical, and two very magical Elfin kingdoms. There was the Cristies from Crystal Kingdom to the south, The Bings, from the Bing Kingdom to the north, and the Elvies, from the middle of the north and the south Kingdoms. The Elvies didn't exactly call themselves a kingdom, although magically they were the most powerful of the three Elfin societies. The Elvies called their home, Apple Lots. They called their home Apple Lots because they had lots and lots of apple orchards, so naming their civilization Apple Lots only seemed natural.
I've introduced three kingdoms, well, two kingdoms and one somewhat Utopian society, of Apple Lots, if you would call it that. it is hard to say what a Utopian society would actually be like, considering every person, big and small has their own ideas of 'perfection'. But let me first start off by telling you about the Elvies, because the Elvies were the most interesting, the most creative, and the most diversely gathered society of Elves, who were the handsomest the best dancers and, the best lovers.
The Elfin Land of Apple Lots, was well hidden, behind a waterfall and an eskar, a natural wall, which was created originally as the stream bed underneath a glacier. As the water flowed, it filled the opening underneath the glacier with sand and rocks, which made the water need to rise higher, so it melted more of the glacier and deposited more earth.
Eventually, as the glacier melted the river bed, or the eskar, became a naturally occurring wall, separating the Land of the Elvies from the Kingdom to the North, which was the Bing Kingdom, as there were mountains to the east, and mountains to the west, and there was a desert to the south, separating Apple Lots, from the Crystal Kingdom, although the Crystal Kingdom wasn't so much of a threat as the Bing Kingdom was to Apple Lots.
There were lots of pine trees on the eskar, and spruce trees and so it looked like a spined serpent, or a dragon. The elder Elvies called it the Dragon and the younger Elvies called it the Python. The eskar was 60 feet high, and about 20 feet wide on top with very steep sides. The trees would shift as they got heavy, and so they grew out at all different angles over the wall. The Elvies believed that the eskar wall and the mountains, and the desert, were put there by God to protect them from the Bing Kingdom, which was a very sketchy kingdom, not favored by God. The Crystal Kingdom and Apple Lots got along just fine, but the Bing Kingdom and, Apple Lots, let's say, to put it lightly, did not have an understanding. The Bing Kingdom and The Crystal Kingdom were neutral for some time, until The Bings would eventually attempt to invade the Elvies in the Land of Apple Lots. And so it was told, the Crystal Kingdom sided with the land of Apple Lots, to defeat a certain type of evil.
To help you get an idea of just what the Elvies, or the very peaceful Elves from Apple Lots were like, or what it was like to be an Elvie from Apple Lots, here is a poem written by the very beautiful Lady Errina the most creative and mischievous of all the Elvies. Well here it is, and I hope you enjoy this poem, about the very peaceful, very loving, very special Elvies from The Land of Apple Lots, who as you could guess, ate lots and lots of apples!

The Elvies:
About the nice clear, moonlit nights,
in the luscious land of Apple Lots,
near the magic mystic meadows,
The Elvies meet and sing and jot.

The Elvies converse of  days events,
sharing thoughts and making plans.
As the moon continues shining fair,
they're laughing, loving without care.

The Elvies engage in a joyful dance,
the deer join in and the ponies prance.
some dance clunky and step on toes,
some are graceful and it really shows!
The riveting recorder and lute bands,
sound melodies that play perfectly grand!

The Elvies prosperously speak aloud
of angelic love which the heart endows,
sharing caring kind energy, healing all,
spreading bushels of hope, ten feet tall!

Love to every man, animal and elf,
no Elive should ever first put themselves.
No baby abandoned, no child unfed,
no richer or poorer, all equal instead.

A purpose should do good, flourish and grow,
for every Elvie may reap what he sows.
For every born painter, a canvas and brush,
For every born farmer, crops that are lush.

No sick Elvie shall ever be left untreated,
every animal has a job to be completed
every bee pollinates the flowers in spring,
every Elvie stores food in the time of fall
for anticipation of winter's long cold haul.

Every Elvie is to share their grown crops,
and take only as he needs as he shops.
Once weekly, there are Food auctions,
all Elvies work hard and take cautions.

Lady Errina was a fantastic writer! She wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and wrote. In fact, she wrote so much, that she often wondered off to a secret hidden place to write her thoughts. It was a spot, so secret, that she would not share its whereabouts with any of her Elvie brethrin. And when asked where she'd gone off for so long, she'd just smile and say, "None of your business Apple Butts." Funny little gal Lady Errina was, and the Elvies were little, but not so little like a bug, but more like, littler than humans. The Elvies stood about 3 feet tall, and were olive green in complexion. They ate healthy, so they were in good shape, and they exercised frequently, so they were very agile. Why most Elives could outrun a cheetah! Lady Errina was, without a doubt the most magical of all of the Elvies, and for this, no elf knew why, it just was. 
Lady Errina, was an only child, who was raised by her father, as her mother sadly, had passed away while giving birth to her. It was, without a doubt, a tragedy. But before Lady Malia, Lady Errina's mother a very fair Lady indeed, had passed away, she had just one chance, one moment or so, to say hello and goodbye to her beautiful baby.
Lady Malia said to Lady Errina, "You must always love, my beautiful Errina, but you must always laugh in the face of hate, because you must never fear. You are Lady Errina of Apple Lots, and I love you lots and lots, and I will always be with you my dear". And with that, Lady Malia kissed lady Errina on the forehead and passed away. Lady Errina's father, Henry Arian of Apple Lots, was a noble Elvie as all Elvies are, but he was most humble and quaint in his nature, and he of course, loved Lady Errina, very, very much.
Lady Errina was like most Elvies about 3 feet tall, with long fingers, small shoulders, large, and pointy ears, with a pointy nose to match! She had long straight, silky and sometimes wavy black hair, with just a few wisps of hair, which whisked upon her forehead. Lady Errina's eyes were sparkly green, and almost hypnotizing to the Elves, and hypnotizing to some Elves, which was a special talent, since the Elves could not normally hypnotize each other, with their eyes, but they could hypnotize the humans no doubt. 
Lady Errina, of Apple Lots, wore a light pink dress, made of peonies,  pink eye shadow, pink blush, and bright red lipstick. She was small indeed, as all Elvies were small, but her attitude was quite big, it was quite huge! Why, I tel you, she was quick with the wit, and sharp as a newly sharpened knife's tip. She was funny and well, sarcastic, but she was very loving, most of all, as her father had taught her love, and a caring Elive to say the very least. She loved to draw and write, and that was her talent, along with her sparkling green hypnotizing eyes, and her wit, of course, her sharp, sharp wit.
Now, lets move on to the Bing Kingdom, which wasn't nearly like Apple Lots, actually, it was nothing like Apple Lots at all! The people from The Bing Kingdom, in the far north, the coldest Elf kingdom of the three, rudely called the Elves from Apple Lots, the Elvies from Apple Butts.Yes, they were quite rude, as they were angry from all of the oppression they suffered, since their King of Bing, whom the People of The Bing Kingdom, referred to as King Fink, when he wasn't looking, or listening of course. Otherwise, you know, it would have been off to the dark, dark dungeon with them ... Anyways, The Elves of The Bing Kingdom were downright mad about everything, because  they hated their King, since he was not a very smart or compassionate Elfin king, but he was very, very self centered and greedy, that he was.
The King of Bing rarely spoke to his Elves, and when he did, they would boo him, for the most part. Only a few of the Elves would cheer, and the few Elves who would cheer, received perturbed looks from the Elves who would boo. Whenever the King of Bing spoke to his Elves, he would take away more and more of their privileges, and therefore, continually rob the Elves of the Bing Kingdom of their happiness, by robbing them of their freedom. He made them grow more crops, and work harder, so he and his royal family could eat more. And he made them create more so he and his royal family could take more. More, more, more, more more, that was all he and the royal family ever wanted, was more food, more things ... But they were never happy, or nice, regardless of the more they had, the more they had the more they were mad. On a much lighter note, the Elves from Apple Butts called the Elves from The Bing Kingdom, the Fink Kingdom and all of its members, Finks. I said the Elves from Apple Lots were nice, I didn't say they were always 'mature' about things.
The King and Queen of the Bing Kingdom, had two children who were in their mid-teenage years. The son, Prince Dorrance, or Prince Dunce as the Elves of The Bing Kingdom called him, when he wasn't listening, of course, was a rather not so bright elf, and therefore not so interesting, but rather dimwitted and annoying elf. he was Elfish! Or selfish, as the English language would spell! Prince Dorrance had two subjects who he favored, who were not so bright themselves, why, interestingly enough, they were less bright and more Dim then Prince Dunce himself! The Prince's two subjects, would upon the prince's orders, follow him around, as if he was of the utmost important, and in need of body guards. There was Eddie, the first subject, who was not the sharpest branch on the tree, and then there was Teddie, Eddie's brother, the Prince's second subject who made less sense, than a fresh pile of mulch, on top of a cemented ground.
Prince Dorrance, was greedy in deed, just like his parents were greedy, the king and Queen. They had taught him well. He desired to control and thereby own, well, everything!. But what he desired the most, was to locate, once and for all, the Magic Necklace, so he could have his chance at ruling the whole world, or planet at least. And so, Prince Dorrance searched with his stupid, yet loyal subjects, Teddie and Eddie, for the magic necklace. together, the three of them searched high, and low, everyday, but to no avail. He searched everywhere in the Bing Kingdom, vowing never to stop searching until it was found.
They searched houses and ponds, they searched rivers and lawns. They searched everywhere without reservation, entering the homes of Elves, without even knocking! Eventually, the Elves of the Bing Kingdom, would begin to roll their eyes at the quest of Prince Dorrance, and that's when they began to call him Prince Dunce. They never believed he would find it, and, they hoped he never would, because the Magic Necklace held so much power, with someone so greedy, so much power could never be good.
Now, Prince Dunce, I mean Prince Dorrance, had a sister, Princess Polly, who was, if not, by far, much, greedier, and much more controlling than Prince Dunce, I mean Prince Dorrance himself. Where to begin with Princesses Polly, I'm not sure, as she had so many idiosyncrasies, her analyst had no other patients, because she was a full time job. Every time, one little thing, would interfere with her well, ways, her somewhat, how should I say, certain ways, ways that had to be ways, the same ways every day, ways, she called her analyst, to come quickly, as she would lay down on her maroon colored velour day couch fatigued with her hand resting behind her rather large and bobbling head, and tell her tale of woes.
You see, Princess Polly, believed that the world belonged to her. Every morning upon waking she would dance in her over sized bedroom, in the rather extremely large castle of the Bings, singing her very favorite song, made up by her, called 'The World belongs to Me.' It went something a tad like, "the world belongs to me, I am a princess all should bow to me!' and so on, and so, more insufferable singing, as princess Polly did not own a very tuned bag of pipes, especially since she sounded like a paint scraper on a chalk board (Which is worse than finger nails.) Every morning, she would wake up from her king size canopy bed, in her lumpy lavender moo moo dress, stretch out her arms, yawn, stand up, and skip over to the balcony overlooking the Bing kingdom, opening the curtains, and begin to sing her very favorite song. Now, normally in situations like these, in fairy tales, when a girl begins to sing, all of the animals, and creatures of the forest tend to gather round, but not in Princess Polly's case. When Princes Polly, began to sing, all of the flowers would wilt and the animals would scurry away, rather quickly, as if they were scurrying for their lives, from the horrid sound.
The Royal Bing family would gather round at the long, wooden rectangle dining table, which was fifty feet long, and they all would sit far, far away from each other and yell abrasively to one other when they spoke. After breakfast, Prince Dorrance, would travel into town, with his loyal, yet dopey subjects, Teddie and Eddie, while Princess Polly, did her very, very busy things, as she was a very busy, very important Princess, with many bossy type responsibilities. She complained about everything! From breakfast to dinner, until she retreated to her quarters, which all of the servants looked forward to, her departure for the evening's rest. During the day, Princess Polly would incessantly boss around all of her loyal, yet not so enthusiastic subjects. After her morning singing and breakfast, she would stroll out to the courtyard, where her fifty two bird feeders were planted. They were very nicely decorated, bird feeders, of all different colors, and the section of the courtyard that held the fifty two nicely decorated bird feeders, was rather peaceful, except for one no so peaceful fact.
Princess Polly hated when the other small animals, besides the birds, which she called her babies except for the pigeons, which she called filthy and vile names, unfit for print, fed on the bird feeders. All of the other small animals, besides the birds she would call disgusting rats. She would provide a sling shot to every little bully in the kingdom if he would come and try to kill the squirrels, and the pigeons. She would order her subjects to shoot the small unarmed, cute animals who would come anywhere near her bird feeders, and then throw their lifeless bodies in a gully. So, you could imagine, if you had a heart, that this was a rather sad thing for the poor, cute, defenseless small animals, such as the pigeons, squirrels and foxes. And for the most part, the small animals, such as the pigeons, squirrels and foxes, who raided her bird feeders all night long, had gotten wise to Princess Polly's dreadful hatred towards them coming anywhere near her colorful bird feeders, and surely were aware, how she would react to such a thing. And so, the small animals would always have a lookout for such an occurrence. If one of the small animals had gotten caught by Princess Polly's eye, raiding any one of her bird feeders, many small animals would come to his rescue. The small animals besides the birds who were not pigeons, would scurry when they saw Polly's roundish body approaching, much like they would scurry when they heard her singing her very favorite song.
After Making her mid morning round to the courtyard where the fifty two bird feeders were planted, with several of her unhappy, yet groveling subjects trailing along, one, holding up the long train of her outlandish and ruffly dress, Princess Polly would retreat to the recreational room, where she would have the Flute band, play the same song, over and over again for several hours until lunch. She would sing along, to the same song, and it sounded worse than nails on a chalkboard. The subjects which she had join her for the daily concerts, would smile, and nod, pretending that she had a good voice, but they actually were very perturbed by her off key singing, and when she wasn't looking, they would turn to each other and make 'eek' faces with great big buggy eyes. The flute band, which she had play the same song for several hours each day, between breakfast and lunch, would grow tired of playing. Although their fingers would often blister, she would make them continue to play. This made them very unhappy, but the band members did their best to put on a smile as they played. Every time the song would finish, she would command, 'Again again!' clapping as if it was the best song on earth, and she truly believed it was. Everyone else grew tired of the repeating song, but they had to pretend that they liked it, and even more, that it was their very favorite song on earth, otherwise, Princess Polly would have them thrown into the dark, dark, dungeon.
During the bands playing, Princess Polly would read Elves Life Magazine, a magazine, which covered the gossip and news in all of the three kingdoms. Every time Princess Polly read some news about Lady Errina, she would turn her nose up and talk about how much better she was than Lady Errina for hours, and it was such a bore for her subjects, but of course, they had to agree, and they had to nod yes to whatever Princess Polly said, otherwise they were thrown into the deep dark dungeon, most likely forgotten about for months, even years!Princess Polly, was needless to say, very jealous of Lady Errina, and for good reason. Lady Errina, was very well loved, and very popular throughout all of the three kingdoms, some would be jealous of her popularity, beauty, extreme magic,  and undeniable intelligence. Princess Polly was rather portly, she ate throughout most of the day, sweets, fruits, meats, vegetables, and drank much, much wine. Mostly while she sitting in her big and comfy thrown listening to the flute band, play the same song, over and over again day in and day out. She was an Elf of habit, and it showed! She had very short, white, spiky hair, but, often wore big hats, heavily decorated with fresh flowers and lace, sometimes with fresh fruits, which she would reach up and nosh upon while walking in the courtyard.
Princess Polly would enjoy a rather large lunch, eating voraciously as if she had never eaten a meal before. She demanded things as she ate, more this, more that! and the subjects ran in and out of the kitchen to the dining room to serve her insatiable and gluttonous needs, but she was never, ever satisfied. And she never, ever, said thank you. Not once did she thank a single soul, for any of the things which they had done for her. In addition to being insatiably gluttonous, she was a very ungrateful and portly elf, who did not care that most of the civilian Elves of The Bing Kingdom, were practically starving. After lunch in the early afternoons, Princess Polly would make her round around the castle to count her four hundred and sixty two wind chimes. And as you can imagine, when the wind blew, it would get pretty noisy. The sound of the wind chimes, would reverberate throughout the whole entire Bing Kingdom. followed by her subjects, she would walk the castles circumference, where hung her four hundred and sixty two wind chimes, chiming about with every gust of wind.
Sometimes, if a big enough gust of wind came about, many nearby elves in the Bing Kingdom, would have to pause and wait for the gust of wind  to blow over, before resuming talking, because not a word could be heard over the chiming noise. All of the wind chimes were very beautiful and very well hand crafted, just as the bird houses were beautiful and hand crafted as well, but alas, perhaps a bit much in excess of one or the other, or both, and this was one of the many idiosyncrasies Princess Polly was widely known for, throughout all of the three Elfin kingdoms, as well as her unhidden jealously of Lady Errina.
The King of the Bing Kingdom, and the Queen of the Bing Kingdom, were parents without backbones. They gave their children, the Prince and the Princess, whatever they wanted and never, ever said no. They had become so powerless over their children's demanding and outright unfriendly behavior towards the subjects and civilians, that even when they tried to gain control over their children's unruly behavior, they failed miserably, and it was quite embarrassing for the both of them, as their lack of discipline and social skills deemed them as the worst rulers of the worst Elf Kingdom of the three, as reported in Elf Life magazine.
The Prince of The Bing Kingdom, Prince Dorrance, had been relentlessly searching for the magic necklace with his two subjects, Teddie and Eddie since his early teenage years at best. Every Elf in the Bing kingdom, and the other two kingdom's as well, were tired of Prince Dorrance's obnoxious obsession with finding the magic necklace. I mean, it was all he ever talked about, and accused many an Elf, of hiding the magic necklace from him and he was always suspicious and on the prowl, looking for it.
The Bings were very hard workers, in fact, work became the most important thing to them and their rulers amassed a fortune in things, like gold and art, and silver and coal. And all the things that one can use, to gain monetary wealth. But it was things like mechanical things, and they were jealous of the Elvies who tended to be artistic and the Bings were not that artistic. The Bings had a bigger palace, but it wasn't well decorated, except for the outside, which was cluttered with Bird houses and wind chimes. The Bings didn't have the artistic abilities that the Elvies had, so they developed an inferiority complex.
There were three magical items, The Golden Winged Euckinorn, The magic Necklace, and the Crystal. The Golden winged Euckinorn, only worked for the elvies, so it was required to have Elvie blood to get the Golden Winged Euckinorn to perform magic, itself. The Golden Winged Euckinorn, was the most magical, and powerful of the three objects, because the Elvies were the most magical and powerful of the three Elfin Kingdoms. The magic Necklace, belonged to the Bing Kingdom, and The reason the Bings lost their magic necklace was because it wanted to get lost! It was ashamed of things The Bings were doing, and so, it got itself lost! Each of the three magical items, had a magical being within it, or attached to it somehow and those magical beings when put together, could perform, absolutely amazing magic. There was a level of magic in each one, but it tended to loose it’s strength and will when it was abused. Meaning if any Elf should intend for it to do things that were against its nature. Although the Bings, believed they were the most powerful Kingdom, they were actually, the least powerful kingdom of the three. The Bings believed, they deserved the most power, and that would lead to an eventual attack on The land of Apple Lots, by the Bings.
It was the Elvies who actually created all three of the magical objects. The reason the Elder Elvies created the three magical objects, was because a massive army of human men, had attacked the three Elfin Kingdoms, centuries before. They used the Golden Winged Euckinorn, which is most powerful with the Magic Necklace, and the Magic Crystal, to repel the massive army of human men. Once the Elvies had defeated them, as well as defending the other two Elfin kingdoms, they decided, it was best to give the magic Necklace to the Bing Kingdom, and the Magic Crystal to the Crystal Kingdom, as a gesture of good faith, that they would join in an alliance and never attack one another.
The magic Crystal could only be used by a Cristie or someone who had Cristie blood. anyone else without Cristie blood, who tried to use it, would be unable to do so. The reason the Crystal wouldn't work unless commanded by a Cristie, was because it was filled with a magical being from another dimension, which only responded to Cristie blood. This is the way, the Elvies planned it, so that no one Kingdom could ever get too much power on its own. The Golden Euckinorn alone, only worked for the Elvies. it was the most powerful object of the three. The Magic Necklace, was the least powerful object, since the Bings were the least powerful group, but it only worked for The Bings.
The Bings did not consider their elders to be important. They looked down upon them, as if they were crazy. The the Cristies and the Elvies treated their elders as if they were sacred, because they were. For a while, the Bing Elders had been moving to live with the Cristies and the Elvies. Eventually, The Bings own elders would turn against them and that would make all of the difference. Because even with the power of all of the three objects, they could not defeat the power of all three groups of elders.
The Cristies were the most spiritual group of Elves, they were nomadic, and they lived in decorative tents in the warmer southern regions. They tended to spend most of their time commuting with nature, developing medicines and healing processes, and they had a special affinity to crystals as they had a crystal cavern, which was their sacred temple. The Cristies had no interest in taking over any other kingdom because that would reduce their time for spirituality and they don’t want that, as they were peaceful, and content with what they had. The Elvies spent most of their time in artistic type pursuits and so they were also not interested in war type things. But the Bings who had an inferiority complex, desired to rule the world, in order to prove themselves worthy and valuable. Since they are unable to establish a value for themselves through their work.

End Chapter 1.