The Scrivener's Jest
@scrivenersjest.com
Just me (he/him), dancing in the madness of the age, posting creative work and talking about storytelling, poetry, TTRPGs, comics, games, and random slices of niche (and not-so-niche) culture and ephemera.
Website: https://scrivenersjest.com
Website: https://scrivenersjest.com
There is a peace in silence.
The solace of a solitude
Unmarred by the reminder
Of other voices.
I hear you.
I press on the boundary
A dark elastic
It moves and tightens
I can almost touch you
Before I am pulled back
Into this nothing
I do not understand
Praying only for silence.
#vss365 #elastic
The solace of a solitude
Unmarred by the reminder
Of other voices.
I hear you.
I press on the boundary
A dark elastic
It moves and tightens
I can almost touch you
Before I am pulled back
Into this nothing
I do not understand
Praying only for silence.
#vss365 #elastic
October 4, 2025 at 4:34 PM
The peach was soft, overripe, and I watched as you pulled it apart. It split easily. The pulp from its broken flesh dripped from your fingers. Those hard hands that tore away everything leaving only the red stone beneath. That stone, a seed, my heart, too hard for you to break.
#vss365 #pulp
#vss365 #pulp
October 3, 2025 at 8:52 PM
I lose track
In the swirl of the day,
The madness of the mundane.
I hold my ground
Against the onslaught
Of what I'm told is important,
But its not.
It is only when I stop,
Focus my gaze on you,
Let the rest fade to blur,
A soft bokeh
Where only you remain,
And I know my place again.
#vss365 #blur
In the swirl of the day,
The madness of the mundane.
I hold my ground
Against the onslaught
Of what I'm told is important,
But its not.
It is only when I stop,
Focus my gaze on you,
Let the rest fade to blur,
A soft bokeh
Where only you remain,
And I know my place again.
#vss365 #blur
October 2, 2025 at 12:21 AM
This has been a month.
Let's just say I'm rather glad to see it go.
Let's just say I'm rather glad to see it go.
September 30, 2025 at 8:49 PM
This has been a month.
Let's just say I'm rather glad to see it go.
Let's just say I'm rather glad to see it go.
Silence hangs in the balance,
Strung up on twisted strings
Threads of chaos and apathy,
Is there a question here?
Dare I still answer?
Speak to that empty space,
The hole I used to pretend
Was god,
Just a mirror in my image
Now empty
Revealing the conundrum
of self.
#vss365 #conundrum
Strung up on twisted strings
Threads of chaos and apathy,
Is there a question here?
Dare I still answer?
Speak to that empty space,
The hole I used to pretend
Was god,
Just a mirror in my image
Now empty
Revealing the conundrum
of self.
#vss365 #conundrum
September 30, 2025 at 8:47 PM
Silence hangs in the balance,
Strung up on twisted strings
Threads of chaos and apathy,
Is there a question here?
Dare I still answer?
Speak to that empty space,
The hole I used to pretend
Was god,
Just a mirror in my image
Now empty
Revealing the conundrum
of self.
#vss365 #conundrum
Strung up on twisted strings
Threads of chaos and apathy,
Is there a question here?
Dare I still answer?
Speak to that empty space,
The hole I used to pretend
Was god,
Just a mirror in my image
Now empty
Revealing the conundrum
of self.
#vss365 #conundrum
She opened her candy with careful precision never ripping nor tearing. Every fold and crease remembered. Once the sweet was free, she'd take her time folding the paper to look like candy was still inside. "There's a sad beauty," she'd say, "in a pretty wrapper with nothing inside."
#vss365 #wrapper
#vss365 #wrapper
September 9, 2025 at 11:55 PM
Power was never a possession. You cannot hold power. You do not have power. Rather power moves. It flows and gathers. At times, infusing us; at others, leaving us bereft. The weak and petty claim it, holding nothing. The strong may never know its taste. Yet, balance always returns.
#vss365 #power
#vss365 #power
September 8, 2025 at 7:48 PM
Reposted by The Scrivener's Jest
Good Lord, what madness rules in brain-sick men
April 2, 2025 at 5:59 PM
Good Lord, what madness rules in brain-sick men
He puffs his chest
Kisses her hand.
She smiles
Doesn't roll her eyes
Used to small men
Pretending to be big.
He invites her upstairs,
Demands his "due"
She returns it, in kind
Leaves him bleeding out
On the bedroom floor,
No chance encounters here
Just the rhythm,
Cause and effect.
#vss365 #chance
Kisses her hand.
She smiles
Doesn't roll her eyes
Used to small men
Pretending to be big.
He invites her upstairs,
Demands his "due"
She returns it, in kind
Leaves him bleeding out
On the bedroom floor,
No chance encounters here
Just the rhythm,
Cause and effect.
#vss365 #chance
September 6, 2025 at 11:56 PM
I drop my articles
Out of habit.
Compress the verse
To keep the pace.
Try to stay on track.
A sort of stutter
Like the one I used to have
Like I'm my childhood self
Sitting in an office
Playing Go Fish
With the therapist,
Because when I was distracted,
It wasn't there at all.
#vss365 #article
Out of habit.
Compress the verse
To keep the pace.
Try to stay on track.
A sort of stutter
Like the one I used to have
Like I'm my childhood self
Sitting in an office
Playing Go Fish
With the therapist,
Because when I was distracted,
It wasn't there at all.
#vss365 #article
September 5, 2025 at 9:36 PM
I pull my punches,
Even in the text,
Never quick to strike
As I bide my time
It's simple really.
The words are a game.
Wittgenstein's vengeance,
But what do I win?
Another dollar?
Another lost day?
Another moment?
We're never conscious
Of destinations
Just the paths we take.
#vss365 #conscious
Even in the text,
Never quick to strike
As I bide my time
It's simple really.
The words are a game.
Wittgenstein's vengeance,
But what do I win?
Another dollar?
Another lost day?
Another moment?
We're never conscious
Of destinations
Just the paths we take.
#vss365 #conscious
September 4, 2025 at 6:00 PM
I pull my punches,
Even in the text,
Never quick to strike
As I bide my time
It's simple really.
The words are a game.
Wittgenstein's vengeance,
But what do I win?
Another dollar?
Another lost day?
Another moment?
We're never conscious
Of destinations
Just the paths we take.
#vss365 #conscious
Even in the text,
Never quick to strike
As I bide my time
It's simple really.
The words are a game.
Wittgenstein's vengeance,
But what do I win?
Another dollar?
Another lost day?
Another moment?
We're never conscious
Of destinations
Just the paths we take.
#vss365 #conscious
Our existence: arbitrary. You and I: the result of a strange accumulation of chance. We are a roll of the dice burst forth into a universe hurtling into oblivion. No rhyme nor reason, just being. This, our moment of possibility. Its only meaning, ours to create.
#vss365 #arbitrary
#vss365 #arbitrary
September 3, 2025 at 9:07 PM
Our existence: arbitrary. You and I: the result of a strange accumulation of chance. We are a roll of the dice burst forth into a universe hurtling into oblivion. No rhyme nor reason, just being. This, our moment of possibility. Its only meaning, ours to create.
#vss365 #arbitrary
#vss365 #arbitrary
We are born of stardust
Swirl along cosmic paths
Etched into the fabric
Of a universe in endless motion.
We gather ourselves together
Coalesce from atoms
Born at the start of time
A sentient amalgam
Of impossibility.
This a kind of magic
We are far too quick to dismiss.
#vss365 #sentient
Swirl along cosmic paths
Etched into the fabric
Of a universe in endless motion.
We gather ourselves together
Coalesce from atoms
Born at the start of time
A sentient amalgam
Of impossibility.
This a kind of magic
We are far too quick to dismiss.
#vss365 #sentient
August 27, 2025 at 1:47 AM
There is a difference
Between the audacious and the loud,
Between bravery and bravado.
They scream for our attention
Are rarely worth the time
Just the bleating of an ego
No replacement for a soul,
Empty noise, meaningless,
With nothing left to hear.
#vss365 #audacious
Between the audacious and the loud,
Between bravery and bravado.
They scream for our attention
Are rarely worth the time
Just the bleating of an ego
No replacement for a soul,
Empty noise, meaningless,
With nothing left to hear.
#vss365 #audacious
August 25, 2025 at 5:51 PM
There is a difference
Between the audacious and the loud,
Between bravery and bravado.
They scream for our attention
Are rarely worth the time
Just the bleating of an ego
No replacement for a soul,
Empty noise, meaningless,
With nothing left to hear.
#vss365 #audacious
Between the audacious and the loud,
Between bravery and bravado.
They scream for our attention
Are rarely worth the time
Just the bleating of an ego
No replacement for a soul,
Empty noise, meaningless,
With nothing left to hear.
#vss365 #audacious
On the last night
I told you I was leaving.
Asked you to come,
Take risk and fly,
But you refused
Stepped back inside
Your tiny world
Safe in the static.
Do you still look for me?
Keep vigil in the dark
Knowing I am there
Just beyond reach
Past the walls
You dare not cross.
#vss365 #vigil
I told you I was leaving.
Asked you to come,
Take risk and fly,
But you refused
Stepped back inside
Your tiny world
Safe in the static.
Do you still look for me?
Keep vigil in the dark
Knowing I am there
Just beyond reach
Past the walls
You dare not cross.
#vss365 #vigil
August 20, 2025 at 6:33 PM
The words feel different.
And you do not understand
Why I cannot speak them.
I am too used to silence.
In this life of shadows.
I hold my tongue,
Lest I bite and bleed.
I miss all that was,
Still hope for what will be,
A fool's wish, but mine.
#poetry
And you do not understand
Why I cannot speak them.
I am too used to silence.
In this life of shadows.
I hold my tongue,
Lest I bite and bleed.
I miss all that was,
Still hope for what will be,
A fool's wish, but mine.
#poetry
August 20, 2025 at 12:28 AM
The words feel different.
And you do not understand
Why I cannot speak them.
I am too used to silence.
In this life of shadows.
I hold my tongue,
Lest I bite and bleed.
I miss all that was,
Still hope for what will be,
A fool's wish, but mine.
#poetry
And you do not understand
Why I cannot speak them.
I am too used to silence.
In this life of shadows.
I hold my tongue,
Lest I bite and bleed.
I miss all that was,
Still hope for what will be,
A fool's wish, but mine.
#poetry
He had "high standards"
Didn't care to settle
For the inconsistency
Of autonomy
Built automatons, instead.
Cobbled fictions
Of stolen words
And tinker-toy bionics,
An endless array of vacant eyes,
And vapid smiles.
Monkeys in a room
Making meaning, meaningless
Like their maker.
#vss365 #bionic
Didn't care to settle
For the inconsistency
Of autonomy
Built automatons, instead.
Cobbled fictions
Of stolen words
And tinker-toy bionics,
An endless array of vacant eyes,
And vapid smiles.
Monkeys in a room
Making meaning, meaningless
Like their maker.
#vss365 #bionic
August 18, 2025 at 6:22 PM
Leaving was easier than I expected,
But then there was so little left.
It was never enough.
Blind in your consumption,
Lost in abject emptiness
I offered up myself,
Tried to fill that space,
But every piece you took
Only left you hungrier than before.
I wonder who feeds you now.
#vss365 #abject
But then there was so little left.
It was never enough.
Blind in your consumption,
Lost in abject emptiness
I offered up myself,
Tried to fill that space,
But every piece you took
Only left you hungrier than before.
I wonder who feeds you now.
#vss365 #abject
August 18, 2025 at 3:49 AM
He had a thing for the wild ones, those who strayed from the path. He envied them, but he toed the line too afraid to be. Now he feeds on manic pixie dreams ground down, filtered and processed, served by a monstrous machine. He swallows to hide the empty ache inside becoming Legion.
#vss365 #pixie
#vss365 #pixie
August 15, 2025 at 6:27 PM
It came out in February, but I'm finally reading Lauren K. Watel's Book of Potions. It's probably not a surprise that her style resonates with me, but the sheer power of each her poems/potions is breathtaking.
If you like prose poetry, it is so worth a read. www.sarabandebooks.org/all-titles/p...
If you like prose poetry, it is so worth a read. www.sarabandebooks.org/all-titles/p...
Book of Potions, new poetry from Lauren K. Watel — SARABANDE BOOKS
Winner of the 2023 Kathryn A. Morton Prize in Poetry, selected by Ilya Kaminsky.
Written with tremendous urgency and ferocious candor, the prose poems of Book of Potions capture a woman caught in the...
www.sarabandebooks.org
August 15, 2025 at 4:25 AM
It came out in February, but I'm finally reading Lauren K. Watel's Book of Potions. It's probably not a surprise that her style resonates with me, but the sheer power of each her poems/potions is breathtaking.
If you like prose poetry, it is so worth a read. www.sarabandebooks.org/all-titles/p...
If you like prose poetry, it is so worth a read. www.sarabandebooks.org/all-titles/p...
It should not be a surprise, but I always find it funny how my responses to these prompts so often reflect aspects of my current mood.
In other words, it has been a week!
In other words, it has been a week!
August 14, 2025 at 8:22 PM
It should not be a surprise, but I always find it funny how my responses to these prompts so often reflect aspects of my current mood.
In other words, it has been a week!
In other words, it has been a week!
Her wings were leather and bone,
Arched high along her back,
And when she smiled
It was a grin of sharpened teeth.
No angel, she was something more
Born of primal fears and desires.
I watched, rapt, as she raised a hand
Curled those wicked claws,
And the world beneath us
Shuddered.
#vss365 #wings
Arched high along her back,
And when she smiled
It was a grin of sharpened teeth.
No angel, she was something more
Born of primal fears and desires.
I watched, rapt, as she raised a hand
Curled those wicked claws,
And the world beneath us
Shuddered.
#vss365 #wings
August 14, 2025 at 8:19 PM