The Chessman

Dear readers;

Once again, we are featuring poetry here on the Archives; specifically, this week we have a poem I wrote while witnessing a chess game between two masters. I hope you enjoy it.

THE CHESSMEN
(C) 2010 Sketch Reed

They sit and stare
With diligent eyes
Open, aware
As they surmise
The opponent's moves
With nerves of steel
They only think
And never feel.

The hand hovers o'er
The plastic men
It grabs it, moves it
Hopes to win
This game, this war
This battle of wits,
This is what happens
When the chessmen sit.

Thanks for visiting, dear readers. Come back soon.

--SKETCH

Reminder

Dear readers;

As the gap between the rich and poor increases, the country collapses economically and our pocketbooks all shrink to the point of implosion, I felt the need to express my views about it. This poem is the result. Enjoy.

Reminder
(C) 2010
By Sketch Reed

They have said, through the ages
"Yes, my son, nothing changes
Unless something moves."
But what can I do?

I'm just a poor man,
Living on the street
In the winter I freeze,
In June I burn from heat.
My house is a box,
and my faucet is the sewer.
So what am I to do?

You are the rich man,
In your cozy home.
Your children all hate you
And your hair won't grow.
You have all the money,
But you "need" it all for you.
So what am I to you?

Nothing changes
Unless someone moves.
You splurge at driving ranges,
But I can't afford shoes.
You feast at the cafe,
I scrounge in garbage bins
You save up for vacation
I wonder when this ends.

But someday, my friend, you and I
Will be equal once again,
In the graveyard, we will meet;
We all will die, my friend.

Nothing changes
Unless someone moves.
So when will you?

Thanks for reading...I shall see you again soon.

Kudos.
--SKETCH

The Shattered Children

It's Wednesday again, dear readers, and it's time for me to pen another entry to the book of the Archives. Today's offering was written in honor of a few dear friends of mine...friends who have considered suicide, but who thankfully changed their minds. I give it to you now.

The Shattered Children
(C) 2010
By Sketch Reed

We are the children of the shattered silver screen.

Alone we sit, surrounded by sustenance
But our spirits sink in sin and hate
Material goods leave nothing to be desired.
We have everything...and yet...
And yet
We have nothing.

We are the children of the shattered silver screen.

We live in the trailers,
The mansions, the streets
The apartments, the houses
Wherever you are, we are there
Crying for you to help us.
We want nothing, but we want it all.
We have everything...and yet
And yet
We have nothing.

We are the shattered children of the silver screen.

Suicide comes to us
It knocks on the door, making not a sound
With tantalizing lures of peace and release
And oh, how we want to let it in.
But we cannot
We struggle on, through the times
We are everything...and yet
And yet
We are nothing.

Help us.
We are your future.
One day you will die
And we will live on
Struggling to live with the pain you put us through.

The pain that you brought
With your self-righteous sense of security
With your veiled hatred of what we are
With your telling us to "Be a man!"
With your desire for us to hide our emotions and follow your orders
Without questioning or understanding the reasons why.

Look back now.
Look at all we could have become.
We could have prevented war
But you taught us hatred.
We could have saved the earth
But you showed us a world not worth saving.
We could have cured this disease
But you insisted on passing it on to us.
And now we are infected.

We are the shattered children.
And we are calling you to change.

Heed us.

Tune in next week, dear readers...and thank you for reading. I will see you again soon.

--SKETCH

Sketch Is Back! "The Earth's Eye Stares Unblinkingly" A Poem

Well, I'm back online, friends...and I've got so many new writings to share with you. Let's start with a new poem, shall we? Actually, it's technically not new--it was originally written about two years ago, when it was self-published in a small zine I created. But, as they say, "What's old is new!" And this is new--so enjoy!

The Earth's Eye Stares Unblinkingly
By Sketch Reed

The earth's eye stares unblinkingly,
As mankind unthinkingly
Destroys what little wonders they create;

And yet the eye of Mother Earth
Has not blinked once since mankind's birth
Watching as we make her desolate.

But none have ever stopped to sense
Our soul's own barren emptiness,
And realize how petty are our cares;

For God and gold, for food and land,
We wreck the earth with our own hand
Yet evermore her wounded eye still stares.

Thanks to all of you who visited during my hiatus, and to all of you who have supported me. There's new stuff from me elsewhere too--check out the following sites.

http://sxrportal.webs.com -- One-click access to all of my sites throughout the web.
http://yourdailyflame.blogspot.com -- Fractal flames, updated daily. Check it out!
http://sxrgames.blogspot.com -- A new blog from me, called the Game Master Blog. We'll be discussing board, card and role-playing games of all kinds, as well as reviewing game materials.

See you there!
--SKETCH

Glowing White Lightbulbs

It's Christmas time again, dear reader, and here's a poem to celebrate the season. Enjoy.

Glowing White Lightbulbs
(C) 2009 Sketch Reed.

The glowing white lightbulbs flicker in the night,
As darkness and coldness envelop the town.
The white falling snowflakes, they dance in the light
From all of the strings of white lightbulbs around.

In bright-lit store windows lay jewelry and toys,
And signs on those windows announce, "Christmas Sale!"
The shiny new playthings enthrall girls and boys,
Who, grabbing their pencils, write Santa some mail.

The sounds of the season are hard to ignore,
From Crosby to Mannhem the radio sings
All the songs of the reindeer and Santa and more
Of the fun kind of music that Christmastime brings.

But the glowing white lights will be soon put away
And the New Year ball drops, thus ending the season,
But we still praise God for His great gift that day,
For Jesus, his son...who still is the reason.

Happy holidays, everyone. Don't forget; if you send me a self-addressed, stamped envelope by New Years Day, I will give you a Christmas present of 3 hand-drawn stickers. Send it to:

Sketch Reed

SXR Headquarters
190 Northridge Drive
Gerald, MO 63037

Happy holidays, everyone.
--SKETCH

Blood-Red Sun (A Prose Poem)

Here's your (one day late) weekly dose of Sketch Reed writings. This week, I give you a prose poem entitled Blood Red Sun. Enjoy.

Blood-Red Sun
(C) 2009 SKETCH REED

The blackness of the darkest night
Anarchy will set free;
Fear and longing for the light
Gives rise to tyranny.

Concealing hate for humankind,
His era hath begun.
Controlling fate and warping minds,
The dark, the Blood-Red Sun.

Blood-Red Sun! The deathly one
Of doom, despair and might;
The end is near, his kingdom fears
His dark unholy light!

Throughout the years, rebellions fall
Dissenting voices killed;
The Blood-Red Sun, he conquers all
His breath can rouse the still.

But in a secret safe haven
The Guild of Light shall be
Born with earth, fire, water, wind
To plot the death of he.

Blood-Red Sun! The mighty one;
The King of death and gloom!
He cannot be allowed to see
His downfall and his doom!

The Guild of Light will plot to fight
From far and wide they come.
Underneath a shining light
They shall await The One.

For forty times a thousand years
They waited for this day
Vengeance is nigh! All of their fears
Will soon be washed away!

Blood-Red Sun! His reign is done
His rule shall be no more!
They chant aloud and through the clouds
The light shines down once more!

Now the land is free again,
The Blood-Red Sun is gone!
These tales are told of days of old
The legend will live on!

--o0o--

Now then...time for an update on your Christmas presents.

I have decided to give everyone who sends me a self-addressed, stamped envelope a Christmas present of 3 hand-drawn stickers. Sound good? Then send me your SASE to:

Sketch Reed
SXR Headquarters
190 Northridge Drive
Gerald, MO 63037

And happy holidays.

--SKETCH

Sonnet I (Dancing Alone Together)

Hello again, dear reader. Because I posted a day late last week, I have decided to post a new entry a day early this week. For this week's post, I have decided to try something new; a sonnet.

For my English class, my teacher asked me to write a sonnet (if you don't know what that is, click here) involving love for another person. And so I did; taking inspiration from Beck's song We Dance Alone. Enjoy!

--o0o--

Sonnet I (Dancing Alone Together)
(C) 2009 SKETCH REED
Through fields of flowers underneath the trees
We dance alone beneath the Sunday sun.
The sound of the birds, and the buzzing bees
Tell us not to leave what we have begun.
People look at us and stop and stare
They don't understand; but we just don't mind
We're two in love without a single care
No one else knows the happiness we find
Dancing alone beneath the maple tree.
Your soul and mine, they shine like gleaming gold
Ages can pass, but this love will always be
Glowing bright as together we grow old.
There's no music to guide us on our way,
Our love will take all of our cares away.

--o0o--

Well, now that I've posted my poem, it's time to update you all on my stickers. Now for those of you who have no clue what I'm talking about, I shall explain.

I post videos regularly to Youtube, and recently, I have been making videos of stickers that I have created by hand. (To see the first of these, click here.) Also, in these videos, I have said that I am planning on giving these stickers out as Christmas presents for my fans and friends. Well, I am posing the details here, on the Archives.

Currently I have about 40 stickers made (all hand-drawn, mind you...to see them, click here), and I am planning to get more sticker paper so I can create big ones. I haven't decided how I'm gonna distribute these yet...so stay tuned.

I'll see you next week.

Kudos.
SKETCH REED