★ CT Library ★


Last updated May 20th 2011

Welcome to the library page. Here you will find short stories, poetry, and articles submitted by our members as well as tips on how to improve your writing. And now not only will you get points for entering writing but you'll also get 3 points for every rating you send in as well as every tip.


  • You must be a member of Creative Therapy to submit a piece of writing.
  • Send in all writing or ratings by neomailing Madeline(makikaykay).
  • Poems are worth 20 points, short stories are worth 30 points.
  • Run your writing through a spell-check before submitting it if possible.
  • If your writing is quite long put it onto a petpage so that it can be easily copied here.
  • Any writing that you submit must be your own. You must not take credit for other people's work.
  • Writing must not contain bad words or anything inappropriate for children to read.


  • To rate a poem or story, neomail makikaykay with the name of the piece, a rating out of ten and a short comment (one or two sentences) explaining your rating. Ratings are worth 3 points each.
  • Please judge people's work fairly and honestly.
  • If you receive a poor rating, please remember that it is just someone's personal opinion, and tastes vary, so this does not mean that your work is of a poor standard. Try to take it as constructive criticism.


Coding template by Morgan's CSS, edited by creative_therapy.

Textures by missesglass@DA, edited by creative_therapy.

Pngs by missesglass@DA and RockstarProductions@DA, edited by creative_therapy.

Neomail icons by Foomanshu. All content by creative_therapy and guild members.


Here is a collection of short stories written by our members. If you would like to add your own, please neomail creative_therapy and you will earn yourself 30 points.

Adee the Chia by Sofia-(8th May 2011)
Green with Envy by Phoenix-(April 2011)
Anestakis the Fighter by Athina-2010
Random Scene with Byron and Brook by Leo(2010)

Library Clubs

Here is a collection of guild clubs aimed specifically at those of who enjoy writing and reading. Click on the links below to find out more about them.

Book Club

Blogging Club

Welcome to blogging club. The following members have arts related blogs on a popular site. Want to join? If your blog is on the same site neomail Madeline (makikaykay) with the name and she will add it.


Phoenix's blog can be found at myimpossibledreams. It is mainly a creative writing blog but there are other artsy things thrown in. She is currently taking part in the A-Z blogging challenge.


Brooke is the former CT deputy, but we still like to keep in touch. Her blog is a writing blog called Paper Mountain, found at brookerbusse.


Madeline's writing blog can be found at capriciousexistence.


Andrea's art and craft blog can be found at snarkydrea.


Rachel's art blog can be found at sketchsheep.


Here is a collection of poetry written by our members, arranged from newest to oldest. To send in your own, please neomail creative_therapy and you'll earn yourself 20 points.

A Sonnet for Probert by Hannah-(26th May 2011)
They Wonder Why I Love Them by Chels-(6th May 2011)
Funfair by Phoenix- (3rd May 2011)
Chocolate Delight by Lydia- (29th April 2011)
Fall to Winter by Lydia-(29th April 2011)
Infinity and Beyond by Lydia- (29th April 2011)
Hatched by Phoenix- (25th April 2011)
Boredom by Phoenix(2nd April 2011)
Outburst by Phoenix-(1st April 2011)
First Christmas by Phoenix-(Dec 2010)
There Once Was a Time by Phoenix-(2010)
Keeper of my Dreams by Phoenix-(2010)
Androgynous by Phoenix-(2010)
Waxwork by Phoenix-(2010)
The Black Rose by Phoenix-(2010)
Groundhog Day by Phoenix-(2010)
Lava Lamp Haiku by Phoenix-(2010)
Love Lessons-(2010)
Bluebell Wood by Phoenix-(2010)
Personality Graveyard-(2010)
Speak Out by Duckey-(2010)
Tess and the Priceless Treasure by Phoenix-(2010)
When Different Hearts Collide by Al-(2010)
Writing Therapy by Phoenix-(2010)

Adee the Chia by Sofia

As you know, Adee the Chia has been adventuring near the Ice Cream Machine. She dodges every ice cream, but one catches her eye, an ice cream shaped like a strawberry. Quickly she ate it, and her mind was clear, the only thing in it was strawberries. When she woke up, she ate a strawberry. Again and Again the big, red, plump strawberry was shoved in her mouth from her small, little hands. She ate and ate and ate strawberries, until she grew. She looked like a volleyball. At night, she had a dream. Instead of an Ice cream machine, it was a strawberry one. She was running slow as a slug to dodge strawberries, and her huge self was attracting more strawberries. Soon, she couldn't move and she fainted from all of the killer strawberries. She woke up. She didn't even dare touching a single strawberry. In the afternoon, she daydreamed a strawberry, it was dancing and singing. The lyrics the strawberry was singing were "Stop eating all strawberries, eat one a day like me. Then you can conquer those killer strawberries, and you can be the best of all! STRAW-BERRIES OH YEAH!" The strawberry then say the same words. At night, she dreamed about the strawberry machine again. This time she conquered the machine. She never really knew what will happen when she finish with all the flavors in the ice cream machine, and she hopes one day she will know.

Added:8th May 2011.

A Sonnet for Probert by Hannah

A man more great than he a soul can't dream
His stature's small, his face is black as coal.
It's plain to sight how strange my love may seem
But to free ears, a different tale is told.

He is a troubadour unparalleled
With songs of young and old both in his mix.
Untold, it seems, the songs in memory held
(In truth, he plays about one thousand six.)

His music's never too far from my side
Because he follows near where'er I go.
A comrade whose devotion's never died
A friend that I am always glad to know.

Indeed, his charm's beyond the stretch of man
None make me smile just like my iPod can.


Added:May 26, 2011

They Wonder Why I Love Them by Chels

The sweet soft buttery taste
The icing on top like a sugary paste
I won't let any get away
I'll save them for another day
Crunchy on the edges
Soft in the center
Thats what my mouth feels as the cupcake enters
The cupcake so sweet
So soft so yummy
In the end it will all be in my tummy!

Added:6th May 2011

Funfair by Phoenix

I remember walking hand in hand,
Feeling light as air,
As if the balloons would lift me off
And I'd soar without a care.
I remember dancing on the twister
Carried by the beat,
Lost in a dizzying whirl of colour
Ice-cream melting in the heat.
I remember the bear you won for me,
The bag of fudge we shared,
I remember the giddy rush and thrill
Of knowing how you cared.
I remember sweet and sticky lips,
Cotton candy kisses,
Trying our luck on those penny stalls,
So many near misses.
Our love was like a rollercoaster
Ups and downs a trial
But the thrill of all the highs
Made the lows worthwhile.
But now it feels an age ago
Since you and I were there.
What happened to our love?
It isn't fun, it isn't fair.

Added:3rd May 2011

Chocolate Delight by Lydia

Milky,sweet, my secret delight.
The treat I eat upon midnight.
Brown, smooth, melt in your mouth.
Creamy or crunchy. Hope to never run out.
Given by lovers, friends,and family as gifts.
My guilty pleasure one would admit.

Added:30th April 2011

Fall to Winter by Lydia

A leaf falls, crippled as it touches the ground.
The warm brown colors fade to a sickly grey.
The wind hits the tree and the others leaves fall away.
Fresh or crippled they turn to grey.
The blue sky fades to a chilly white.
The wind blows harsher upon every night.
The people around start dressing like eskimos,
trying to be sure they don't get frost bitten toes.
At night as the snow falls the heat is turned up high.
Your blanket makes you warmer and reminds you through these
harsh winter nights that by morning everything will be just right

Added:30th April 2011

Infinity and Beyond by Lydia

Life is...
Made of Art.
Full of Adventures.
Filled with new friends.
Stuffed with fun.
So let your imagination run free
to infinity and beyond.

Added:30th April 2011

Hatched by Phoenix

Snugly cocooned in a ball of warmth,
Stillness and darkness envelopes me.
All I can hear is my own heartbeat,
Slow and steady and comforting.
But now it starts to flutter,
Racing excitedly, waking me
From my peaceful slumber.
My body senses that it's time.
I wriggle about in agitation,
Getting hot and flustered.
The air is not filling my lungs,
I start to panic, writhing wildly.
My home, my sanctuary for weeks
Has become a prison.
I long to break free-
To stretch my tiny wings.
But my limbs are weak and puny,
I struggle against the fragile shell-
A concrete wall to me.

My beak taps urgently, frantically
Until at last a little crack appears.
I push with all my might,
Puffing and panting and cheeping
Until finally my head emerges.
I taste the air for the first time.
I shiver and squint against the light,
But there's no going back now.
With a final forceful effort
I flop feebly, hopelessly into the hay
Bits of shell still stuck to me-
A little ball of fluff with legs.
And then I see her!
Large and warm and comfy.
I nuzzle into her soft feathers
Safe and content again.
Tomorrow I'll explore the world
But for now my little eyelids close
And I rest, exhausted,
Dreaming of the blue sky.

Added:25th April 2011
Ratings:Lydia gave this 8/10.

Green With Envy by Phoenix

There she was again, flirting with him. Casually flicking her long golden hair over her shoulder and leaning towards him, front on display. She was shameless. She'd only been at this school five minutes and already she acted like she was best friends with everyone. Clearly she had no sense of boundaries- he was my boyfriend after all.
Ahem", I coughed loudly and they both turned around casually.
Oh hi Trina", Scott smiled inocently, his eyes lighting up when he saw me, then frowning as he comprehended my body language. "er..we were just talking about Rachel's uni applications. She's got an offer from Durham.
Rachel's flawless smile spread across her face like a pink bow. Durham. My first choice of university. The university that made it clear they didn't want me. I had thought my grades weren't quite good enough, yet Rachel and I got the same A level results. What did she have that I didn't?
Congratulations" I said frostily, just as the bell rang. Scott furrowed his brow as if confused by my sudden unfriendliness. It looked like he wasn't going to move from his seat next to Rachel, so I was forced to take the seat on his opposite side. I didn't like the way he was stuck in the middle between the two of us and was about to try to rearrange when Mrs. Black strolled through the door, her arms full of art materials. I perked up a bit then, remembering both that art was my ultimate favourite lesson and that it was the last lesson before lunch.

You'll like what I have planned for today," Mrs. Black insisted. "We're going to do some freestyle painting. You can paint anything you like- a scene, still life, portrait, abstract or whatever you fancy. Just make sure you finish it by the end of the lesson, because I'm going to go around and judge them all when you're done. I'm going to pick the painting I think is the best and....it's going to be displayed in the new art gallery down town."
There was a murmur of interest at this. The new gallery was very modern and rapidly becoming a cool place to hang out at the weekends due to the trendy cafe on the top floor overlooking the water. Those truly interested in art would give anything to have their artwork displayed there for everyone to see. I smiled to myself, remembering the compliment Mrs. Black had given me about my portrait last lesson. I had a pretty good chance at this.

We all got out our equipment eagerly and got started. I stared at the blank canvas for a while, willing an idea to materialise, but nothing seemed to come. I glanced sideways and saw that Scott and Rachel were already daubing colourful paint onto the canvas. Eventually I came up with a brilliant idea- I would paint the vase of daffodills in front of me. I reached for the bright yellow paint and began splashing away. Every now and again I glanced across to see what the others were doing. Scott was drawing a car-it looked very square and average. I couldn't tell what Rachel's was even supposed to be. It just looked like a lot of random splodges to me-something that my little brother could have done at playgroup. I smirked to myself. This was in the bag.

Finally, five minutes before the lesson ended, Mrs. Black got our attention and told us to stop what we were doing. I stood proudly next to my sunshine yellow canvas, the flowers popping out cheerfully. I was really pleased with the effect. Mrs. Black circulated the classroom pausing to look at each painting in turn. She paused a long time to look at mine, but her face was unreadable. Eventually she returned to her desk.

Well done everyone," she said. "It's been a really productive lesson, you've produced some outstanding pieces of work. It was hard to pick just one painting, but there is one that I feel stands out. That would be Rachel De Montford's stunning abstract.
I snorted loudly, believing she was being sarcastic until I noticed that everyone else was clapping, and I joined in, clapping slowly in disbelief and protest. It didn't even look like anything!
Everyone pack your things away now, you can leave your paintings to dry here over lunch." Mrs. May announced. Miserably I began to throw everything into my bag.
Excuse me, Scott?" Rachel simpered. "You wouldn't mind showing me to the library would you? I did go there once before but I'm not sure I remember the way.
Sure!" Scott grinned. "Trina, you coming?
No, you go without me." I said grumpily. "I have things to do.
Okay, if you're sure..." Scott trailed off, sounding worried.
I'll see you later." I said pointedly and they waltzed away together without a backward glance.

I didn't really have things to do. I had no clubs to attend, no other friends to hang out with. The truth was that as I had packed my things away angrily a nasty thought had occured to me. That Rachel De Montford thought she was so great- just because she had rich parents who could afford to buy her designer clothes and buy her into posh universities. Well I wouldn't give her the chance to be big headed about this. Art was my thing, and whatever Mrs. May thought Rachel didn't deserve to have her stupid painting in the gallery. I was alone with all the paintings now, no one would notice me if I made a few adjustments to it...I chuckled wickedly. It would serve her right for being such a stuck up little cow.

Ten minutes later I jumped as someone called my name. Scott walked into the room, looking concerned.
Trina, what are you doing in here? I was looking for you. I thought you'd gone down to the canteen but I couldn't find you, what are you doing?" His eyes wandered to the canvas beside me. It was a solid block of colour-bright green paint oozing off it and dripping to the floor.
What is this?" I had to think fast. I put on a face like I was upset.
Oh Scott, something terrible has happened! I was on my way to the canteen and then I remembered I'd forgotten my pencil case, and when I came back I found this! Someone has sabotaged poor Rachel's painting." I said, willing fake tears to well up at the corners of my eyes. "She'll be devastated. Who would do something like that?" Scott didn't speak for a long time.
A very sad person." he said slowly, and he looked up at me with a face I will never forget. It was like anger, disgust and pity all rolled into one.
What...I? You don't think I would...?" I stuttered, my face flushing.
Trina, look at yourself. You have specks of green paint all over you- on your hands, your face, your hair..
I opened my mouth to deny it but then closed it again. What could I say?
We're going to get Mrs. May now." he said firmly. "You're going to explain to her what you've done and whatever crazy reason made you do it and see if she has got something that can clear up this mess before Rachel comes back for it." his tone was cross, like a parent disciplining a child. I had never seen him be so serious before.
But Scott, you won't tell her...?" I pleaded. "What about us? You wouldn't do that me. Don't you care about me?
Scott looked down at his shoes. "You're not the person I thought you were Trina." he said sadly, and then walked away, leaving me standing there staring at the bright green canvas. It was the colour of sickly pus. It made me nauseus and I backed away from it as if it could infect me. What had I done?

Added:April 2011

Ratings:Lydia gave this 9/10.
Sarah gave this 7/10- good story and writing style, but I find myself having a hard time liking a story where I hate the protagonist, she seems immature for her age, also we don't know a lot about the rachel girl except that she's fortunate, i mean idk if she deserved what happened to her or not.

Anestakis the Fighter by Athina

Anestakis the Kougra was originally from Neopia Central, where he lived with his three brothers. One of them, John, would take him along when visiting the Lost Desert and Altador. Once, an unexpected occurrence separated them, and young Anestakis couldn't imagine the impact his adventure would have on his life.
Lost and alone, he ventured past the mountains west of the Lost Desert, and found himself in the exotic beauty of Shenkuu. The moment he set eyes upon the suspending city, he felt it calling out to him. Ever since that day, Anestakis always had a special connection with the place.
He started studying the culture, the way of life. He followed their traditions and was interested in their unique battle skills. Soon, he was able to recognize every herb and petpet, he had studied the phases of Kreludor and he was a natural in Tangram. It was obvious to all that he belonged in Shenkuu, Anestakis however thought differently. He knew there was still something to be done.
So, he left his beloved city and ventured back to Neopia Central. There he was reunited with his family, whom he had missed dearly. But he did not forget his purpose. Anestakis declared that he had to go to Mystery Island and train with the Techo Master. Everyone was sad to see him go, but they supported him.
Having everything he needed, he reached the Island and began his training. You can still find him there, training hard to become worthy of Shenkuu. And one day, he hopes he will truly belong with it.

Ratings: None yet.

Ratings:Lydia gave this 7/10.

Added:April 2011

Random Scene with Byron and Brook by Leo

Brook!" his voice was oddly dry as he screamed my name. It was as though he had been nearly hacked in half, but at the same time was yelling for me to run from the beast that had done him in. Then it hit me. That was how all guys screamed...
I could hear his footsteps pounding against the hard cement. They grew louder and louder as he came closer. I figured, if he was willing to run the distance he had to try and stop me, I could, at least, turn around and face him as he did so.
I expected the normal "Don't go. I won't let you. You're not--

Suddenly, as my body turned, I was nearly knocked off balance. A searing pain burned its way across my face. It stung so bad... No! I wasn't going to... Not in front of Byron... But the tears rolled out as my fingers flew to my cheek. Undoubtedly there was a red mark, maybe even a bruise, where the blow had struck.
My feet barely managed to catch my stumbling. The shock cleared... So did my thoughts... All I could do was stare at him in the horror of what he had done.
His grey eyes were fixed upon his right hand, which he held in front of his face. It was like he was asking himself "What kind of a monster am I?" His palm was a fiery shade of pink, as though he had thrown all his strength into the action. Then his gaze cast up to mine.
He looked so serious. I mean dead serious. His eyes reminded me so much of a wolf's, but they were far too intelligent to be an animal's, scary intelligent even for a human. Cold, harsh, and unforgiving towards himself... I'm not letting you go." He finally managed to mutter. A grimace cast its way across his face.
I had no idea how to reply. My mind was strongly set, but the tears still stung, warm and salty. He must have hated himself for what he had done, (Byron hating himself? Imagine that...) but he would not apologize. I knew he would do it again and again until he got his point through my mind, harder and harder each time if necessary. I'm going Byron. No matter what you do or say... I braced myself for what would come next, but for the second time I was taken off guard as he threw his arms around me. The hold was so tight, I thought it was going to crush me. His strong arms definitely weren't going to let me go anywhere.
No you're not. Even if I have to hold you like this through the whole thing..." he whispered almost gently into my ear. He meant it too as he swayed slightly in an almost loving manner.
Why do you even care?" I asked dryly. I could feel his head shaking back and forth gingerly against my shoulder as though he were trying to hide something in plain sight. Then I realized...

Added:April 2011
Ratings: Brooke gave this 10/10
Lydia gave this 5/10.
Sarah gave this 6/10- I like your writing style, the middle is good, but i don't get the beginning and end all too well

Outburst by Phoenix

She drops the bomb and leaves me reeling,
Body numb and lacking feeling,
Until the dust clears from the air
And I percieve the truth laid bare.
Beneath the surface something bubbles
She can sense that there'll be trouble.
My throat is dry, my heart is pounding
In my head a siren's sounding.

How dare she treat me like a child?
I start to shake, my eyes grow wild,
A crimson filter clouds my sight
I try to calm with all my might.
But molten lava floods my veins
Causing white hot scalding pains,
My fists are clenched, I grind my teeth
Struggling to control the rage beneath.

But like champagne it bubbles over,
I'm on the verge of supernova,
Shouting, swearing, thrashing wildly
While she stands there smiling mildly.
As my violent anger blazes
She is calm and nothing fazes,
I kick and scream and stamp about,
She won't fight back or even shout.

Although my rage is hot as mustard,
She is barely even flustered
And that is what annoys the most-
The way she likes to watch me roast.
I wish I could control myself,
These outbursts aren't good for my health
But it's not easy to be cool
When someone makes you feel a fool.

Added:1st April 2011
Ratings:Lydia gave this 10/10.

Boredom by Phoenix

The endless day limps by,
Dragging its feet lethargically
And pausing to slump at every
Opportunity, eyelids fighting sleep.
Every empty hour is torture-
Stretched out across the rack of time.
But I won't talk; there's no one to talk to.
Echoing corridoors, long silences
Broken only by the clock's listless ticking,
Not with the urgency of a wired bomb,
But slow and steady like a sleeper's heartbeat
How I wish those hands would race
Around its wide and mocking face.
I should be relishing my own company
Having nothing to do but think
But my mind is numb and stodgy
Dragged down by creeping quicksand.
Sighs and yawns and glances at the clock
Can only fill the nothingness for so long,
Before I sink languidly...

Added:2nd April 2011
Ratings:Lydia gave this 8/10.

First Christmas by Phoenix

My breath mists up
the frosty windows
And we draw pictures
On the dripping pane.
You thread the bauballs
With your steady hands
While I pad carefully
Across the new carpet
To our rusty stove,
Tiny pine needles
Pricking my feet.
I bring back steaming mugs
Of liquid chocolate
And we warm our hands
on the crackling fire,
Cutting and sticking
In the candelight.
We work in silence,
Not needing to speak.
With frozen fingers
I snip at paper snowmen,
Holding hands and smiling
The way we do now,
And so nearly didn't.
There's glitter in my eyes
And everything sparkles.

Ratings:Lydia gave this 6/10.

Added:Dec 2010

There Once Was a Time by Phoenix

There was once a time
When you weaved your waves
Of shimmering silk
Like straw spun into gold,
When you kissed with velvet lips,
Embraced your love with
Soft and supple arms,
Enchanted all with eyes
that shone like orbs of glass.

But winter came to pass.

Time, jealous of your vitality
Comes like a thief in the night
And snatches back the gifts
That once he gave willingly
With gnarled and twisted claws.
The eyes that once enchanted
Fade like frosted pools,
Your rosy apple cheeks
Are hollowed to the core.

With a shudder you feel him pass.

He bleaches golden locks
With dust from ancient bones,
Bends your supple fingers
Into tangled twigs
That snap when the cold sets in.
He carves deep grooves
In the grains of your face,
Sucks the crimson life-force
From your withered lips.

All this your soul will last.

Ratings:Lydia gave this 8/10.

Keeper of My Dreams by Phoenix

You are the keeper of my dreams
You are the guardian of my soul
When I am hurt and torn to pieces
You're the only one to make me whole.

You are the keeper of my dreams
I know they're safe there in your hands
When I feel that everyone's against me
You're the only one who understands.

You are the keeper of my dreams
I'll never lose my faith in you
When I lose my way and I am frightened
You're the one who'll always see me through.

You are the keeper of my dreams
I feel protected when you're near
As long as you stay close to me and hold me
I know that I've nothing left to fear.

You are the keeper of my dreams
I'm grateful for everything you do
So entrust to me your wishes
And I will keep them safe for you.

Ratings:Lydia gave this 9/10.


Waxwork by Phoenix

I used to know a girl
With a picture-perfect face
But somehow in each picture
Her smile was out of place.
There was something not quite right
About the way she froze
Like a wooden mannequin
In a mindless pose.

She had a little work done
Nothing very drastic
But still her facial features
Looked like they were plastic.
A real life Barbie doll
I wonder what she felt
If she showed emotion
Her face would surely melt.

Her hair and her makeup
Always looked pristine
Like they were painted onto
A porcelain figurine
I think that if she smiled
Her pretty face would crack
She would be in pieces
But who would put them back?

Ratings:Lydia gave this 7/10.

Androgynous by Phoenix

I miss my blonde crop and my dungarees,
My baseball cap and grazed knees,
When I wore whatever I could find
And if I got messy I didn't mind.
When my body was a vehicle for my soul
And I thought and moved as one whole
And I leapt and danced and played with ease
Building dens and climbing trees.

And then the alien curves invaded
And I felt like my body was being paraded
And everyone seemed to be staring at me
I wanted to hide my indecency.
I started to notice my own reflexion,
I started to worry about my complexion,
I started to dress in a feminine way
And my urge to climb trees dissolved away.

Since then I've developed a woman's mind
To match the body I was surprised to find
And these curves are now a part of me
An extension of my mentality
Though sometimes I wish I could regress
To the age when I was genderless,
I embrace this soft and fluid form-
This is the real me, this is the norm.


The Black Rose by Phoenix

There are many flowers that you can buy
With vibrant colours that catch the eye
But the most alluring flower in sight
Is the rose with petals black as night.

She bewitches all with her dark aroma,
Her modest hue speaks of gothic glamour.
But whilst other roses disguise their thorns,
Beware my deadly spikes' she warns.

Many have eyes for the crimson rose,
She cries 'look at me!' with a boastful pose,
But the black rose needs no display of colour
To enchant all eyes that gaze upon her.

But there is more on closer inspection,
Mystery shrouds her dark complexion
Her secret spell is part of her art
The midnight gown conceals her heart.

Ratings: 10/10 I really like this one, it's very creative and well written. I'm not sure aroma rhymes with glamour, but I still love the poem; by Madeline


Groundhog Day by Phoenix

Wake up at seven, cursing the world,
Throw on some trousers, a shirt and a tie,
Call to my wife to see if she's up,
But she is as dead to the world as I.

Pour a black coffee, switch on the news,
Showing a car overturned in a ditch,
Face of a schoolgirl, smiling with joy,
Missing or murdered; I don't catch which.

Slurp down my coffee, dash out the door,
Hurry through streets paved with yesterday's trash,
Cross past the subway, avoiding the tramp,
And race to the bank to draw out some cash.

Get to the office, quarter to nine,
The morning drags by like it's a year long,
Dream away throughout a dull meeting,
Wonder exactly where my life went wrong.

Every morning plays out the same,
Everyone dances to this somber beat.
And so I trudge down a well worn path,
A pattern that man is cursed to repeat.

Ratings: 7/10 I like the idea of the poem. I don't like this one as much as the other poems you've written, and I don't see why the title is Groundhog Day; by Madeline

Lava Lamp Haiku by Phoenix

Your dark red globules
Blob about like red blood cells
In zero gravity

Ratings: 9/10 Nice use of words, it sounds as if you are on a different planet.I don't like haikus that much, that's just something personal, but I do like this one; by Madeline

Love Lessons by Phoenix

There you stand, eyes twinkling in the sunshine,
That reassuring smile lighting up your face,
Totally oblivious to what you do to me.
You're conversing eloquently as usual,
But I catch only a word or two,
The aroma of black coffee and fusty books
Opening doors in my imagination.

I watch as the others pass with solemn faces,
Knowing that I see in you what they never can:
The heart of an explorer and the soul of a poet.
There's an endearing eccentricity about you,
From your quintessential dress
Right down to the simple crispness of your name,
Which sounds like a whisper in an empty library.

I know that to you my adoration is nothing more
Than the fantasy of a lonely schoolgirl.
I know that I was born too late,
That you are too good for me and can never be mine.
You are my inspiration, my life's mentor.
I have learnt so much from you,
But can you teach me how to love again?

Ratings: 8/10 I love the concept of the poem. Learnt (in the last stanza) sounds strange - maybe replace it with learned; by Madeline

Bluebell Wood by Phoenix

A leafy canopy gleams with dew,
As shafts of sunlight filter through,
Twisted old oak entwined with the new,
Lost in a spring-time sea of blue.

Ratings: 10/10 I like this poem, a lot; the idea is amazing, I've never read a poem like this before; the wording is gorgeous. I'm not too fond of the title, but the poem is still fantastic; by Madeline

Personality Graveyard by Phoenix

Each time she looks me in the eyes
And sprouts her filthy, selfish lies,
Another part of me is slain,
Never to return again.

Love and pride and joy and trust
She has vanquished all to dust,
They lie beneath six feet of dirt
Where no more can they be hurt.
My hopes and dreams were slaughtered too
And now they're hidden out of view
Buried in an unmarked grave
There's nothing left of me to save.

Ratings:9/10 Very creative, I can sense a lot of emotion. I'm not sure again and slain rhyme and I feel like there should be a break in second stanza; by Madeline

Speak Out by Duckey

How many friends in your life are amazing?
How many have you told?
Do they know how they have touched your life?
In a way no one foretold?

Tell them why they are wonderful.
Tell them 'fore it's too late.
Let them know how they've changed your life
There's not enough time to wait.

They day will come when it's the end
When it's too late to speak
Take my word and don't regret
Them not knowing they're unique.

Saying goodbye brings unbearable pain
But the memories will stay
And even when your friends are gone
They'll still show you the way. Added:2010
Ratings: None yet

Tess and the Priceless Treasure by Phoenix

One morning, Tess from Little Dell,
Was washing clothes beside the well,
When Anne and Jane and Cecily
Ran towards her full of glee.

Look upon our golden rings!
See our shiny, handsome things,
From the market; they've got plenty,
Go before the stall is empty!

Tess, excited, ran on down,
To see the fair from out of town,
Travelers flocked from far-off places
Merchants called to wealthy faces.

Some sold pearl (so overrated),
Others gold (most likely plated),
None of these did catch her eye,
So with a shrug she passed on by.

Late that day upon the track,
A beggar with a crooked back
Asked her for some drinking water
And some bread to feed her daughter.

Tess was wary but also kind
And gave to her what she could find.
The beggar smiled at Tess' charm
And placed a trinket in her palm.

Tess took the gift and journeyed on
Until the day was almost done,
Then came across her friends from Dell
Fetching water from the well.

Said one, "Let's see the ring you've bought!",
Said Tess, "I chose the better sort,
Although it only cost some bread,
It's worth more than your gems",she said.

She showed them all the tarnished ring,
It looked a poor and worthless thing,
The metal old and tinged with rust,
The stone was faded, caked in dust.

They all laughed at Tess' treasure
They would never know her pleasure
She wiped it clean and when she'd done
It shone like sapphire in the sun.

Ratings 9/10- Awesome story, it reminds me of everyday life, I like it. Some lines don't rhyme which sort of throws some of the poem off track

10/10-I really enjoyed reading this. It was fun and entertaining while showing a good lesson. This poem reminds me of something Aesop would write. It was beautiful with a playful tone.

When Different Hearts Collide by Al

When different hearts collide
Feels like I want to hide
Sports: I say yeah right he says alright
Whatever he likes soonly it bites
Never ever a secret its out
So when different hearts collide it doesn't work out

Ratings:7/10 The concept is cool - I like it. The second line doesn't make much sense; in the fifth line, you should have is, not its; by Madeline

Writing Therapy by Phoenix

I write when the dark veil obscures my sight,
I write when I lie awake at night,
When a heavy guilt burdens my soul-
I write in the hope it will make me whole.
I write when I doubt what I really desire,
I write when anger engulfs me like fire,
When nothing at all seems to matter to me,
I write 'cause I can't afford therapy.

Ratings:10/10 I like this one a lot - it reminds me of what I do as a writer and it makes me proud to call myself one; by Madeline

Writing Class

Naming Characters

  • If you are truly and depestratly stuck try typing random letters. Sometimes it helps you think of a name or it turns out to be a good name. You never know what will happen.
  • If you want your character names to have meaning try searching for names with that meaning on the internet.
  • Make sure the name you pick is appropriate for someone of that age, living in that time and place.

Tips for Writing Short Stories

  • If you're having trouble with getting things to flow evenly, then imagine the story from different points of view. Try both third person and the point of view of every character, even minor ones that might have a limited role such as a random person walking down the street.

Tips for Writing Poetry

  • Don't worry about rhyming. If you try to force it your poem won't flow as well.
  • Don't use words you don't know. If could turn out you're saying something tastes horrible when you're trying to say it's delicious!

Finding Inspiration

Got writer's block? Here are some ideas to get your creative juices flowing again.
  • Get a piece of paper and fold it into half long ways. On one side right a word and on the other word right a word that means the opposite- for example light and dark, rich and poor, happy and sad. Underneath one of the words write some simple sentences about what the word means to you or how it makes you feel. Then turn it over. Keep the paper folded so you can't see what's on the other side. Then do the same for the second word. After that, unfold the paper and read everything line by line from right to left. It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense, but sometimes it turns out to be the start of an interesting poem.
  • Instead of writing at your desk get outside and surround yourself with nature. Sit down on the grass and write about everything around you-the sights, the smells, the sounds etc.
  • Type a random word such as "peace" or "happiness" into an image search engine and look for interesting pieces of art or photos, then try to describe that art in a short paragraph or a poem.
  • Look at yourself in the mirror. You maybe find that running the water in the bathroom sink until it's warm then staring at your reflection can be so inspirational. A lot of scenes seem to play around facial movements. Try looking at yourself different ways. Scowl like a character scorn. Smile happily. Look hollowly like they would when being plagued with sorrow. Experiment. Be sure to notice the different way light reflects in your eyes, the way you're eyebrows and eyelids move, how your mouth is shaped, the way your tongue and teeth feel in your mouth, how your neck stretches and the way your hair is laying. All of these can spark an astounding inspiration.

Tutorials and Guides

Try soroptimist for handy writing guides.


What is NanoWrimo?

NanoWrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month, and it takes place every year from 1st-31st November. The idea is to write 50, 000 words of fiction in just one month, and if you manage to do this you become a winner, but you have to sign up to the site to take part. There is also a junior competition called NanoWrimo Young Writer's Program for under 17s with a seperate site and a lower word count goal. You don't have to be the best writer to take part in Nano. It's fun just to take part and will develop your writing skills, so why not give it a go?

Writing Buddies

If you sign up to Nano, why not add some of the guild members as your writing buddies? You can check out their profiles and see details of the novels they are writing. If you would like to share your username so other guild members can find you and add you, please neomail Madeline (makikaykay).


My username is phoenixlife and last year I was a NaNo winner (I reached my 50,000 word goal) with a novel called The Hole. This year I will probably use NaNo to do a st draft of one of the books in the Wild Spirits trilogy that I'm currently writing.


Madeline's username is makikaykay. She won NaNo last year with her novel Of Smoldered Harbors.


Leo's username is leoblaze. She won NaNo last year with Stand in the Rain.


Brooke is the former deputy of Creative Therapy and one of the orignal guild members from way back in July 2009. Her username is brooke_the_writer. Last year she won NaNo with a novel called Thinking of You.


Lydia participated in NaNo last year and won. She is registered on the young person's NaNo site. Her username is arcade121234 and her novel was called Sneakers.


Chels has just signed up to do this year's NaNo and her username is feirycupcake.

Writing Sites

Here is a collection of sites featuring poetry, stories, book reviews, articles and blogs.

CT Members

Chasing Violet (A poetry site run by our very own Madeline).
Publishing Inc. (A site run by Lydia that will edit and publish your writing for you).
Infinity and Beyond(An arts and writing blog by Lydia).
Sleeping With Books(Lydia's book review site).
Chelsea's Writing
Phoenix' Poetry
Phoenix' Stories
The Ramblings of a Teenage Highschooler(Jane's blog)

Other Neopians

Try Soroptimist for a full list of writing sites.

Book Club

Welcome to CT's Book Club, where members who love reading get together once a month to discuss books. If you would like to join please neomail creative_therapy.


Sam (dashkuluma)

Currently Reading

Phoenix is currently reading Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenger.
Athina is reading The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin. Jane is reading Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien.

What are you reading?

New releases to watch out for

Supernaturally by Kiersten White.
The Liar Society.
Across the Universe by Beth Revis.

Book Reviews

BY RAINE Elsewhere:
~ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
~Do I reccomend it?:YES
~Author: Gabrielle Zevin
~Genre: Fantasy
~Summary: Elizabeth 'Liz' Hall, who dies in a bicycle accident and wakes up to find herself traveling on a boat called the SS Nile. Soon afterwards, she and the other passengers arrive in what is known as "Elsewhere". She meets her grandmother, who had died before Liz was born, and Liz begins to live with her. In Elsewhere, Liz learns, everyone ages backwards from the day they died to the day they turn zero, and then they are sent back to Earth to be reincarnated as a baby. Liz misses her life on Earth, and becomes obsessed with watching her family and friends through Observation Decks, she tried to talk to her family a few times, which she gets caught and meets Owen. She is depressed, and sees no reason to do anything since she is dead, but in time she makes new friends in Elsewhere who help her come to terms with the fact that she has died. Gradually, she learns that a life lived backwards is not much different to a life lived forwards, and makes friends and a life for herself in this new place.

A review of the Host by Stephanie Meyer is coming Soon.

Check out Lydia's book review site, Sleeping with Books.

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