End of the Year of Poetry

So, here it is the last post of my Year of Poetry. I’m kind of amazed I made it this far. A post a day, at least I know now that I’m capable of this, though I doubt I will ever try and do it again.


The poem for today, as I planned a year ago, is the same poem I started with, my Ars Poetica. A poem about Poetry. Bookending a full year with the same poem front and back.  I hope everyone enjoyed the poetry and the ride.


Thinking about what I’ll be doing next, my personal novel writing has still not progressed very far. I spent almost all my creative energy this year on my Dungeons and Dragons campaign, refining the homebrew world of Arista, fast-forwarding the timeline I presented far earlier in this blog, and most importantly, doing quite a bit of email role-playing.


Me and my players did a few different sets of e-mail chains, one of them was a year of downtime where they fell through time and space and did a reality and dimension hopping adventure. Some of them were short, boring , or uneventful but one of them was a massive 350 page practical novel. I want to share all of this writing on the internet (and I did get their permission) and I have been editing out any personal information and such. I’m not sure how I’ll organize everything, or how often I’ll post things, but I do think I’ll start with the shortest and least interesting bits, to give me time to edit up the monstrous sections. I hope everyone ends up enjoying this new plan of mine, and then I’ll figure something else out when that’s all done.


Happy New Years everyone, and I hope this next year is a good one for you all.

Continue reading “End of the Year of Poetry”

End of the Year of Poetry

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


The Road Not Taken

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house in in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
to watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening