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-




Stickers of Vampire Bunnies

Stickers of the Vampire Bunnys. The story of them is slowly unfolding as I post more.


I am trying something new

I was going to start a new Blog and/or etsy but I have decided to start something new but using a name I have always had… my own!  Ingenious right!

I have started a Redbubble account where I can share my drawings of Vampire Bunnies and my Frog character parodies and you can look and buy them on other useful things while still owning and enjoying art.

Here is the link for you to look at them if you like

They all have a little story with them if you like to know what that story is click on the link above and go exploring…


Thank you

Silvaan Ruth

One poem from MTWYS.

A poem from a large poem story about my life and struggle with my dyslexia. Its called More Than What You See (MTWYS).


When I think of my
mother telling me
how I was born
I imagine the doctor walking
down the hallway
into her room
in a tantrum
for he had to miss
his church service
to help my mother
give birth.

Some “sunny side”
I wasn’t on.
He grabbed my head
bare handed
and flipped me
with little care,
into position
to quicken my birth
to get to his church.
I was born with his
nail impressions
around my head…
“She’s purple.”
My mother said.
“No, she’s not.”
he answered…

When she first tried to feed me
I would pass out.
She was just a
“paranoid mommy.”
He said smugly
walking out in a hurry
without a thought or care
of what he might have done.
Made my dyslexia worse
for the sake of his church.

For the rest of the book Click here

Chapbook:More Than What You See-A Journey Ends

The frustrations of my
limitations will never end,
they will only lessen
for there is always a way
it’s just not everyone else’s
and there is always more
to be found in the trees and cherry’s.
I have reached the end
of this tunnel of mud.
A new tunnel has begun.
This one is deeper
but brighter than the one before.
I wonder what lessons
it will hold and where it goes…

-Silvaan Ruth-

Want to see all of my poems? Check out the link below

Chapbook:More Than What You See-Giving Notice: II

The last class was over
and I held my diploma in my hand, tears in my eyes
but I didn’t want to cry.
I am a graduate.
Why should I?
I went back home with a smile on my face.
yet it was hard for me to celebrate
for the “What now?” the age-old question
nagged at me. School was my job
and summer was my time to recoup.
I was now a graduate with no experience
besides volunteering at my mother’s
elementary school library.
Ironic, for I have always had an aversion to libraries.
Never felt like I belonged there.
I took over for a summer once for a few weeks paycheck.
The only job I ever had.
That was four years ago.
I thought it was hopeless
but I tried. I applied to several places
one of them, a local art and education supply store.
They called me back after a few days.
I was so excited and nervous.
When she asked for me to come in
for a twelve minute test.
I sat down at her desk
and told her that I was “dyslexic”
the second I said it her eyes glazed over.
(I am screwed) I thought
but I pushed that aside
and answered the questions
in the allotted time.
She took the test and left the room
to check the answers.
A few minutes later she came back.
“If we have any more questions
we’ll get back to you.”
She smiled sweetly, but I knew
they we never going to call me.

I felt so foolish for even saying the word
“dyslexic” I walked out feeling ashamed
and embarrassed again.

People don’t give the benefit of the doubt.
They believe the gist of a definition
they heard decades ago
as the end all and be all
of your intelligence.
Should I have begged for a chance?

I should have learned my lesson
and not given the notice.

-Silvaan Ruth-

Want to see all of my poems? Check out the link below

Girls will be ladies

Boys will be boys
Girls will be ladies
Boys and girl both see
where the divide lies.
Boys see women scolded for
tanks and skinny jeans,
Girls see men unscathed for crud
Words and lewd behavior,
Boy and girl subconsciously understand
What “boys will be boys” really means
Men get away with childish things.
A Lady gets away with no such thing,
Men are boys with a job, a family
and no emotion to speak of
Lady has a responsibility
To children, to home, to husband
no dreams, no job, no lewd behavior,
because girls will be ladies,
Boys will be boys
Not boys and girls
Grow to
Be good human beings
When no one would compromise
Their morality, or health
By never expressing any emotion or
Act in a lewd manner
Lets all forget
Boys will be boys
And girls will be ladies
Lets strive to be good human beings
So we can behave and teach
the same to our future children.

-Silvaan Ruth

To My Aquarius

“Why did you have to ask me that question?”
I asked before I held you tighter than ever as
I repeat through my sobbing that I,
don’t want to have this conversation.

I don’t want to say, that despite
the doubt eating away at my heart
I still love you with every fiber of my being.

I don’t want to add myself to the chain
of girls that have called
you friend instead of lover.

Because I want you to be my lover.
I want to love you and keep you
always to myself forever.

I am not leaving because you’re too sweet,
or too kind, or too good for me.
And you are certainly nothing
like my brother.
I want to keep you
for all of those reasons.

I am leaving because
there are things I want
that you can not give me.

I need to grow a maturity that I
feel this relationship
can not give me,
I want a man with a streak of SandM
and a sunnier disposition
and a passion
that only mine can tame.

I can’t stand the thought of what
you will do when I tell you,
nor do I want to see
Tears in your eyes and
me the reason for them.

You try to pull away and I hold you tighter.
For I don’t want this moment to end.
Because the second I let go.
Everything will change.

So, please stop asking me why I cry cause in
me is a wanting for it all to go away.
Just as much as I, don’t want to have
this conversation.


Chapbook: More Than What You See-10,000 hours

It’s not good when every time
someone asks you what
you’re doing with your degree,
it’s never what your degree is for.

“So, you wanna be a massage therapist?”
“So you wanna be a psychologist?”
“So you wanna be an artist?”

No, not really to all.
Still alright at massage.
Ok psychologist if
I had the patience.
I am an ok painter,
be better if I had more
time to spare…

The 10,000 hours rule,
my art teacher told me,
to be the best at
what you want to be.
But I am too busy trying to write.
I have been at it for over ten years
and more hours than I can count.
It’s easier now; less classes to write and read for.
So, I can finally write what I wish during the week
and not just the weekend.

Silvaan Ruth

Want my Chapbook? Click this link

Chapbook:More Than What You See-What’s My Problem?

I’ll tell you what my problem is
I can’t freaking sp-sp-sp-p-p-eak!
Yet you think it helpful to correct me
pressuring me to repeat
with what little energy
I am having a hard time thinking
as you should tell from my
If you would stop asking
maybe you could start listening.

But I can’t tell you how I feel
or argue my point
because I don’t have the words
to explain it at the moment;
hard to think with your badgering questions
so I s-su-uccumb to your winning-
gloating again.

Days pass.
Now, I have the words.
It doesn’t matter
how much you explain
that I am not stupid
or down play your talking
down to me.
You still explain
the spelling
difference between—
“want” and “went”—
“than” and” then”—
“effect” and “affect”—
“men” and “man”—
as if it’s easy
with your mocking tone.
“What’s your problem?”
like it is not that hard.
You know nothing of hard.
Doesn’t matter the amount of empathy
you muster. You will never be me.
But you’re teasing
me for something
I have no control over.

Emotion is all I remember
of your hurtful words.
but it’s a moot point.
No sense in bringing up old
fights now.

is my verbal answer
to your question.

Avoiding your
belting me with questions.
That only force me into
processing your
instead of just

I just want to be left alone
instead of being asked what my problem is.
I am more verbal than you think.
I am just too tired to

Silvaan Ruth

Want my Chapbook? Click this link