Me reading my poetry

This is a series of 7 poems with a bonus story at the end, about how I used Loki to get better sex out of The Fifth. The fifth is in reference to my last and fifth boyfriend.

I had been consumed by this past relationship for a few months now. So much so, I had to stop all my writing, and other creative endeavors, to get this out of me and out of the way of everything else. So here is the youtube link to all of the videos. click the youtube bottom to get to all of them or click the 1/8 in the upper left corner.

thank you

-Silvaan Ruth-

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Thought for sure my principal just killed me, if it weren’t for the sudden stop.

A Very, Very Strange Day

By Silvaan Ruth

Jane:

I sat at my desk, waiting for the principal to come in, as I ate my lunch. Don’t know why I am here in lunch detention. The teacher says I am not, but I am alone in my classroom, eating: lunch detention. I chew in peace as I look at the pale moon in the blue sky, dreaming for a moment about what it would be like to be on the surface. What would the stars look like, I thought, or the earth, for that matter, from the surface of the moon?

With a snap of the latch of the blue door, a stark contrast to the white walls, I jumped. The Principal entered. She was a strange woman, with a hunch at her mid back, her white hair in an old-fashioned bun, white cardigan with a white blouse under it, and dress and cane to match. She had silver framed glasses that rested on a face like a troll, with a silver chain attached to it that snaked around her neck. She walked in, slowly maneuvering through the desks to sit on the one in front of me, moving the chair to the side as she did so. She laid her free hand over the one clutching the white cane in front of her, resting her hunched frame on it. Her blue eyes made her face seem kind and inviting for being rather ugly.

Principal:

Jane’s oval face and almond-shaped brown eyes looked at me sheepishly, her straight, dark brown hair flanking her face, shielding her from the world. Shifting in her chair, her grey hoodie twisted around her arms as she crossed them over her white t-shirt. Her feet jutted out to the left of my cane, her blue jeans twisted around her ankles as she crossed them, and her grey sneakers squeaked. Fully settling in her defiance, she looked out at the pale moon in the blue sky.

I smiled. “Do you know why I am here, child?”

She looked down and mumbled, “No.”

“You’re not doing your math work.”

She shrugged and mumbled, “So.”

I chuckled, “Why?” I coaxed.

She looked sad, “I’m not as good as everyone else. Not as fast or as smart.” She swung her head toward me, glancing up at my glasses for a moment. Looking down at her desk, she said, “Stupid, anyway. No one will ever really need to use it.”

I smiled as I chuckled, “But how ever will you reach the moon?”

Her head shot up, looking me in the eyes, confused. The question, ‘how did you know?’ written in her glare.

Jane:

My chair rose, me still firmly in it screaming. “What the fuck is going on!” I looked at the principal, her eyes shone bright as if stars had replaced the orbs. I launched into the ceiling, straight through it, tumbling into darkness. I thought for sure my principal just killed me, if it weren’t for the sudden stop.

I looked down from where I landed from the edge of a gigantic crater; I knew instinctively that I was on the moon. I followed the curving edge of the chasm until I saw the earth. The sight reminded me to breathe as I gasped at its beauty. Crisp, blue sphere in the middle of a sea of black. I don’t know how, but I could see the clouds swirling along the surface like cottonwood seeds in a summer breeze.

It felt so ridiculous that I could breathe, or still be alive, for that matter. I looked down, placing the sole of my shoes on the ground. I could hear the soil crunch under my feet; that’s impossible, I thought, yet it was real. I started to giggle a little, and it steadily grew into a belly laugh. “Oh. My. God. What the fuck in going on! How am I alive?!” I squeaked. But wait, I thought. “If I am here, then maybe I could go to my favorite planet, Jupiter,” I thought aloud.

I settled in my seat, readying myself, clutching the sides of my chair until my knuckles were white. I closed my eyes, wishing with all my might to go to Jupiter. After a few practice rocks, I threw my weight into the back of the chair, launching myself into the darkness again.

With a thud, I opened my eyes. To see my teacher standing in front of me, I jumped. “Sorry, dear, didn’t mean to startle you.” She glanced at my lunch bag and empty sandwich box, her eyes narrowed and mouth pursed in a disapproving look.

I looked around at the students, unaware of her glare, wondering why I wasn’t on Jupiter. She cleared her throat; I looked at her. She angled her head down, glancing at my mess, glaring at me a little harder.

I jumped to gather it all, “Yes-yes, sorry.” I said. As I put my trash in my lunch bag, I thought, Did that just happen? Why would I imagine that?

In my periphery, as I put my lunch bag under my chair, I saw something white move. I looked, and I saw the principal standing in front of the closed door, looking at me with blue, human eyes. They were not the shining stars I saw in her eyes before. She pointed at me with a smile, and, leaning on her cane, mouthed, “Do your work.” She winked. As her eye opened again, a blackness as dark as the universe was revealed. Where an iris should be, lay the stars of a universe yet to be discovered. She walked through the door as if it weren’t there.

I sat there in stunned silence as the teacher gave instruction.

When all was quiet, I managed to gather myself, and took the math test. I got a C minus. You may think that’s horrible, but I never really bothered to take them before that very, very strange day.

If you want to be a part of my stories and my Patreon family, click the link below.

https://www.patreon.com/silvaanruthpatreon

 

 

 

Something new and going to stay

After years of struggle and back and forth I have accepted that I am a writer. I have started a Patreon page to help in this endeavor. Her is a little video of me tell a little of my story. You can click the link in the description of the video to read more or click the link of my Patreon page just under this video. Thank you. Now I have some stories to write!

https://www.patreon.com/silvaanruthpatreon

 

Another great quote

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Very hard thing to do!

Silvaan Ruth

Potsandpoetry blog

Help me create more: click the link below share and/or buy

http://www.redbubble.com/people/silvaanruthart/portfolio

Thank You!

Forcing myself to write

It’s a story I have had running around my brain in many forms and I finally have it in one form and forcing it out of my head after probably a year or more stewing.

I also have other things stewing having to do with another post I had a while ago. About putting illustrations with my writings. I am working with someone to do that but it will be further down the road. Yup, I am a tease. 😀

see ya later

-Silvaan Ruth-

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Sky Is Not The Limit…

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Silvaan Ruth

Potsandpoetry blog

Help me create more: click the link below share and/or buy

http://www.redbubble.com/people/silvaanruthart/portfolio

Thank you

Thinking of something new.

It has crossed my mind many times to put pictures with my stories. However I am not that much of illustrating artist. (lack of patience and will to do so) I have been thinking of doing this with another artist. but still thinking of who could help or what story I could go with.

Anyway, I have started a new page on facebook, Silvaan Ruth Pottery. I have quit my job and decided to go for it, going to be doing more shows I hope.

What makes life sucky is not doing what you love.

Thank you

Silvaan

I am an INFJ this is a lot like me.

Portrait of an INFJ – Introverted Intuition with Extraverted Feeling

 

I have a facebook Page!

Yup I did it again. I have made a FB page called Silvaan Ruth Pottery.

http://www.facebook.com/silvaanruthpottery/

I have other pages but in a few months I will be deleting those, I just don’t use them.

link on it if you all I will put the other link below as I have been doing

Thank you

Silvaan Ruth

Help me create more: click the links below share and/or buy

http://www.facebook.com/silvaanruthpottery/

http://www.redbubble.com/people/silvaanruthart

https://www.etsy.com/shop/SilvaanRuthPottery

My poetry Pages

Fairytales

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-hC

Chapbook: More Than What You See poems of dyslexia

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-1R

Love/Betrayal/Anything Else

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-uw

Thank you!

 

Prose: Horrible Way to Die

When you realize your behavior

shows the abuser

You accept their abuse…

Is a horrible feeling

and a horrible

way to die.

By Silvaan Ruth

Help me create more: click the link below share and/or buy

http://www.redbubble.com/people/silvaanruthart

https://www.etsy.com/shop/SilvaanRuthPottery

My poetry Pages

Fairytales

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-hC

Chapbook: More Than What You See poems of dyslexia

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-1R

Love/Betrayal/Anything Else

http://wp.me/P50Gwi-uw

Thank you!