Tag: Poetry

Happy 2nd Birthday to the Logbook!

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 2 Comments

Incoming transmission from the Wordsmith of Sol, please stand-by:

So, here we are. Two years later. Wow. That’s a long time. In my case, it was quite a bit of hair ago too! To all the strands pulled and lost, I salute ye.

BUT! This is a celebration, right!? Right. And more than that, it’s my annual extra-special-thank-you, my readers. Thank you for making my job worthwhile. And most of all, possible. That’s the most important part, you make it possible. I’ll keep things light and short, but your support means the world.

So… Now to fess up: It’s been a tough year. Externally and internally. The internals are the toughest things of all. So, of course, it’s taken me a bit longer to do somethings I promised to. Namely, the Novella collection.

As said, it will be free. It is also, as a result of my making it free, and the aforementioned toughness, not out yet. I promised it a year ago, so I want to apologize for its absence. Rest assured, it is coming. I have a cover in the works to be revealed soon, so keep an eye out!

I also want to announce The Logbook Archives Vol. 2 will release soon! (Actual date TBA) More than that, my next book’s on its way. Free-Fall  follows an amnesiac fighting to cope with his wholly synthetic world. More information can be found on Book Excerpts which I will update soon.

But wait there’s more!

This year I’ve done a lot of writing. A lot. Like… a lot. Mostly, Novellas. Which are, frankly, exhausting. I intend to keep up with my schedule, but I may have to choose between Novellas and books in the future. Should that occur, the latter will take precedent, but I will make it known well in advance, and it would only be a hiatus from Novellas.

Part of that is the result of the aforementioned toughness. Simply, it’s difficult to keep producing work when you’re experiencing hardship– financial, physical, or emotional. I have all three. There I said it.

That said, to help insure my resolve, please consider Funding me on Patreon, buying my books, or spreading the word through twitter and facebook.

I understand things are tough all over. Monetary support isn’t always an option. If you find yourself limited in that way, please merely spread the word. I love my work. I love all of you. Most of all, I’d love continuing my work without, you know, eating out of garbage cans. (The smell kills my appetite)

On that rather jaunty note, here’s a few things I’m currently working on:

Logbook Archives Vol.2
New Logo
“Free-Fall”
Custom domain name
Advertising (to spread reach new readers)
And obviously, more stories and poems!

Now that that’s outta’ the way, we return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Thank you again for 2 great years, and here’s to many more!

SMN

Transmission ends.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: A New World Emerges

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

I close my eyes,
for a moment in time,
and a world emerges.

Each time it is different:
inflamed and roiling,
or peaceful, serene.

But each time it changes,
as do I with it,
and I do my best to help you see it.

Perhaps I’m not too great at it.
Perhaps I’m best of all,
but all that matters is you see it.

War-torn. Burning.
Ashes. Embers.
Static-gray sky.

Or verdant, gleaming.
Fields of silent life,
that flits on by.

No matter the place,
I see it true,
and show it to you.

Remaining unique,
is hard in this age,
but I find I must try,

whether for me or you,
I can’t quite be sure,
but it is no less real nor tangible.

So again I close my eyes,
to view a world anew,
hoping, even fighting,
to convey its fruits to you.

Bonus Poem: The Choice

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

I sense change on the air.
There is a scent,
metallic like blood,
but bland like untilled soil.
And with it,
the faint hint of fertile ground beneath.

But strongest of all,
I fear,
are the tastes,
of death and grief,
between here and there.

Humanity must rise,
raze corruption from reality,
seek change anew.
Not because it should.
Nor even for sake of proof.
But because it must,
or else perish.

Sirens and screams,
can birth wonder and dreams,
as easily as they might,
turn greatness
to nightmares that fleam.

But to do either,
Humanity must decide:
Fight and revive?
Or commit suicide?

The choice is ours.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Ever Surging

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Energy and mass,
behind space-hardened glass:
a blast from the past,
and gift from the last,
generation that lived,
and might be forgived,
for the evils they did,
and the madness they hid.

But for now we speed on,
thinking of stars gone,
and suns we’d prolong,
if only with bong.
For even eternity’s short,
within proper court,
the kind we hold closed,
and kiss like a rose’d.

For in the end,
we have been a friend,
to those far behind,
though never in mind.
For we’ve blazed the trail,
both hands off the rail,
and even those yet to come,
will benefit greater than some.

Fear of our future’s passed,
from wisdoms amassed,
though frightful the mass,
of energy-glass,
and the sounds of vacuum,
or the silence it assumes,
for no matter the danger,
we’ve met no strangers.

And instead only greatness,
which in our wake’s less,
when matched with what,
we see ahead but,
is ever beyond,
our primordial pond.
So we carry on,
every surging,
ever anon.