Articles written by S.C. Kleinhans

What is Helium

About me - S.C. Kleinhans

I'm always thinking and writing. Waiting for the next concept to quickly unfold. Art has also enveloped my soul. I adore all genres but I favor abstract forms and surrealism. I love dabbling with various hues, textures and perspectives.

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Destiny: 1 of 158

Destiny was certainly secluded from life's many joys. Her ancient father handled her like a porcelain toy. Destiny was an only child with peculiar plans. She didn't want an education or any man. Destiny's overindulgent father really tried to make do. He'd been both mother and father since she'd been two. Father and daughter... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Directions: 1 of 79
He received a tattered piece of paper. From a total stranger. He quickly opened it up. She peered at the ornate handwriting. They were equally fascinated... It wasn't a poem. It wasn't a shopping list. They were transfixed by some very unusual directions! START at the beginning. END at the middle. Remain there indefinitely. T... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Artists: 1 of 45
He'd been born with the soul of a great artist. Although he felt he was an ordinary little child. He was overflowing with curiosity. Somehow his secret world had been lovingly tainted by art. Unfortunately, his family could not afford any art supplies. Four other children had come before him. His family barely had an... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Life is . . .: 3 of 134
It is a temporary gladness. A temporal slice of sadness. A puzzling bit of personal history. A universal patchwork mystery. It is a lingering, smoldering riddle. A delectable dish...fresh off the griddle. A crazy panorama of insatiable insanity. A vexing mixture of pleasure and vanity. A cultural clash; a painful rash. A madd... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Fate: 3 of 123
He'd been unusually distracted by the ringing of a telephone. Then it suddenly appeared. An unexpected cyclone. It seized the fragile urn. Soon it was overturned. The 91 year old man wasn't daunted by the damage. He gathered up the broken, jagged pieces from his past. "1927" sent his mother to heaven. "1941" had been a time... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Facing life: 4 of 158
Death must enter freely into our confused dominion. This opens up an important opportunity for humanity. By allowing life itself inside. Facing life is an arduous task because life is such an enormous responsibility, overflowing with endless possibilities and obligations. Life comes with numerous multiple choice, fill in the ... More..
Jobs & Careers > Office Politics Tips for your first month on the job: 1 of 36
You may only have thirty to thirty-one days to prove yourself at your new job. If you are mildly unlucky you may have begun your new job in February ~ thereby losing an extra day or two of professional growth time. You will probably receive numerous tips regarding many different aspects of your job. This process will be repea... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Self-awareness: 7 of 235
He strived to express himself with his limited vocabulary. As he read the illegible writing on the faded yellow paper, his thoughts sounded contrived. How could he remedy the situation? How could he repair his master creation? He sat pensively in the rickety chair. He toyed with his unsightly hair. He arrived at a... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Hard times: 5 of 146

Prosperity's body, wings and soul had grown weak. Shimmering white feathers had turned blackish-grey. The broken old man could no longer walk or speak. Crumbs of utter sadness had consumed each new day. He had climbed to the top of the slippery summit. Then everything around him began to slowly implode. He was totally unpre... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Lies: 6 of 174
In the beginning, before the influx of mindless reason, only truth existed. Plentiful shades of perfection and imperfection were at war but they coexisted. Billions and billions of bits of information pleasantly passed from brain to brain. At that tender point in time, humanity was free from the absolute stain of pain. Then t... More..