Poetry Corner

[Eyedolize]

I'm not good at all in poetry but I'll try...

"To the one I hate the most,
My fist will break your face,
Upon your bloody beating, you'll feel everything's lost,
I'll drag your body very far,
Where I should ran you down with my car,
Thus from seeing this threat,
My hands are all bloody and wet,
Let there be mercy on your soul,
Because next time, I won't hold back at all..."


Well that's my crappy poem, I thought it sounded kinda original, since you people are writing the love poems, which I really don't
prefer writing about them.

[Eyedolize]

Hey that was pretty good Royal Hawkman Mage.
Well like I said I'm not a poet, but at least giving my effort and doing things the best way possible is what, I'm dedicated too :)

[burakkichu]

well i know i said that i was going to give up writing, but i guess i can't help creating *something*, especially when i've got something on my mind that i just wanna express somehow. poetry is easy though....it usually doesn't take me as long to write.

so i wrote a new poem today. i always want to create some kind of structure for the poems i write, though my structures usually tend to be pretty loose and simplistic.....the only structure my poem has here is three words per line.

--------------------------------------------------------
and life opened

last night i
had a dream
that a friend
had died and
i had never
seen her face
but i cried
i cried hard
and it was
okay to cry
because her mother
was there and
i felt safe

and life opened
because i cared
and i hadn't
expected that but
i hope it
doesn't go away

(even today i
wonder where she
could have gone)

--------------------------------------------------------

i really did have a dream like that last night.

[burakkichu]

thought i'd resurrect this with something i wrote, em, last week. most of the poems i write are very short, and nowadays most of them don't have titles. so, eh, this one's just like that. ^^

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

there are many words
descriptive nouns and adjectives
full of pepper and paprika
sprinkled on white pages
a delicious gourmet delight
for feasters on the letters
to pique their palates
with the celebrated cuisine

too many epicureans
too many dead senses
their tongues sing only
to the tune of one bell
but the trash cans are banging
as the dump trucks whine and grind
and the a/c unit kicks on
as its big fan whirrs outside

[Shadow Trainer Ash]

p e r s p e c t i v e
my right eye is different
much different than the other
for it sees crowds of colors
while the left sees no other

my right eye is different
much different than the other
for it can view other worlds
where different people help different others

my right eye is different
it sees what the left cannot
through people's dreams of memories
of what the left had forgot.

[Shadow Trainer Ash]

woven together
the world is a woven basket
each person a ribbon of straw
sewn into a bigger picture

not one piece matches the other
every portion is a different tint

but yet they're all united
tightly woven together.

[Shadow Trainer Ash]

h o w l i n g . s o l d i e r
searching for paradise you wander
to the furthest reaches of the earth
howling cries to the moon
and watching the stars mourn down

tenderly the night whispers
flowing through your timid heart
pulsing blood through
the soreness of your chest
and screaming to your soul

o wolf warrior
run free run free
scatter in your courage and scream the night away

o howling soldier
watch the growing red moon
toss your chains aside and run into the wild

o wolf warrior
run free run free
gnaw through your shackles and howl into the rain.

[Otto=ottO]

Yeah, so I got bored and used a rhyming dictionary to get me this poem.

About Stan.

There once was a man, a man names Stan.
Stan was a sports fan, so he ran and ran.
Stan ran and ran, but never kept up with his friend named Suzanne.
Suzanne would ride her red sedan, but Stan still ran.
While Stan ran, he ran like a stunt man.
He hit a trashcan when he ran.
Stan ran in the klu klux Klan.
As he ran, they got a ban.
The ban would ban Stan from the klu klux Klan.
Why Stan never got a sedan like his friend named Suzanne.
Or a minivan like Mary Ann.
Is because Stan was not a mechanical man.
So the man named Stan just ran and ran.
Stan also had a short attention span.
He couldn’t even stick to a retirement plan.
His attention span, of Stan, didn’t have space for a plan.
So he ran, he ran to the Sea of Japan.
Then he ran to the Republic of Sudan.
He got a tan as he ran though Kazakhstan.
So Stan does have a plan.
Ran he did, as part of his plan.
Stan, he can, than ran through a Jet plan Fan.
Stan, he ran, he has no need for a retirement plan.

[DannyBoy]

I did not copy Kelly Clarksons song. I got the idea and it is much different from hers. Her song is about someone losing there independance mine is about a girl who keeps hers and is a good friend of mine.


There is a girl, who didn’t want a man to get in her way,
She was the one, who always had something to say,
She will never have a man control her on any day,

She never wanted to be held back,
There was nothing that girl lacked,
She tried her best to get on top,
She never wanted to flop,

Miss independent always was the one,
Her life goal is never done,
She didn’t like to be called Hun,
She always wanted to have fun,

She wasn’t the one to sit and lay in the sun all day,
But you got to remember,
Don’t you dare call her Mrs. Dependant,
Or you better keep your distance

She wasn’t that perfect,
And that was ok,
She loved to play football,
But not the one to go and shop at the mall,
She may be the one to fall,
But hey she was a girl, who caught the ball,

She was the one, who was always intriguing,
She didn’t care if she was bleeding,
If she did fall in love,
She would still be above,
And never let a man handle her,
And man was she sure,

I hope you remember all of this,
Before it all becomes bliss,
She always stayed true,
She never tried to get blue,
She didn’t give a yea what people thought,
And this is what it’s all about.

She was called a Oh because she stayed real,
But she just smiled back and made no big deal,
People didn’t believe but she really does feel,
She might not show it,
She didn’t want to throw a fit,

She didn’t want to be a drama queen,
She dint want to be that mean,
Miss who likes to dream,

O yea miss independent knows who she is,
She doesn’t have to change when around her friends,

No one can ever hold her down,
No one can ever make her frown,
This girl is gona go far and you know it,
She doesn’t need anyone to open the door,
She is not a whore,
She is independent to the core,
And she is much more,

No she will never ever have a man control her,
You might not think its true but she is sure,
Miss much more than she ever could be,
Miss she always could see,
Miss always a friend to you,
Miss is so true,
Miss not facade,
Miss never be a maid,
Miss so honest,
Miss tried her darnest,
Miss spectacular,
Miss this was never a blur,
Miss make you feel more than you ever could be,
Miss Independent

[GSAce789]

Okay, here's one I wrote a while ago, for a school assignment, actually. It's a teeny bit too long to put in text right here, so I'm putting it as an .txt attachment.

As you might have guessed, it's a poem of the first Star Wars Movie(Episode IV: A New Hope, that is) I must tell you though, I'm no professional, so please excuse me when the beat\rhythm\structure\whatever completely changes halfway through.

Enjoy, and no plagiarism, now!

[attachment deleted by admin]

[Pewter City Geodude]

A/N: I don't own the Pokemon franchise, blah blah blah.

Changing Times



There used to be times when I'd get annoyed,
To keep hidden feelings at bay.
But stubborn as he was, he'd never avoid
Any challenge that came his way.

There used to be times he'd insult me
In response to something I'd said
And sometimes I'd respond by boldly
Malleting him square on the head.

There have been a few times he'd been fraught with despair
After losing to someone more skilled.
Those are the times I made sure I was there
To listen as his thoughts were spilled.

There have been times we have had lots of fun
Such as Kids' Day and the Whirl Cup,
We were close friends, and felt like we were one
And our future kept looking up.

There have been times that we've been apart
Like the time I returned to the Gym.
Coming back here had broken my heart
Now I know the same was true of him.

There were times when I thought he was lost,
A new girl, and then a new trophy for the shelf,
But how elated I felt when the threshold was crossed
On our wedding day, by none other than Ash himself.


by Misty Ketchum

[Leon-IH]

i didn't see anywhere else this was possible so i figured here's the place, i got two peons the one im posting now and the one in my sig.

What i once Dreamed

Living in a house on a hill
The night was dark
And the earth was still
The crows would hark

My eyes closed as i saw
The place that i had forever
Been running, searching for
The odessey of this endeavor

Then my eyes opened again
I shouted and cried into the night
My world split open then
Always i carried my fight

The moon would glow white
But all i saw was dark
Deeper again into the light
And again i could see a small spark

The dreams eluded me coldly
My hands ran along my knife
The light shone boldly
As i returned to this life..

[Oakbark]

Just a quick poem i slapped together, nothing much, but i'd just like to share it with you. Lol.


The Find

As I ventured out in the woods today,
I saw a rippling in the clay.
The noise was that of a monster rare,
With polished scales and free of hair.

With trembling breath I stalked my prey,
Across the ground and far away,
I groped my side until I felt,
The pokeball hanging on my belt.

The burrowing stopped – My breath went dead,
Then from the ground came up his head,
He spied me quick, I threw the ball,
And from the light came my Absol.

The pokémon dived into his base,
My pokémon followed and gave chase.
He grabbed the sand mouse by the tail,
And bit into his solid scales.

The pokémon squirmed – he leapt about,
And then he gave a mighty shout.
My Absol dropped him on the clay,
And then the Sandshrew got away.

[tygerofdanyte]

Yo!

I'm back for some odd reason. I doubt anyone except maybe the mods and some of the older members remember me.

I'm bored, but I suppose I'll post a poem.

It's one of my older ones. but meh. I don't think I"ve ever posted this one on tpm before.

~*~
Misleading Religion

The days have passed
of angels in the sky
who now but be a ship's juried mast.
While the original beneath the ocean lie.

To think of that simple yester year
Where lithe lasses frolicked in pagan sense
free of undoubted sin and all its peer. ;
Never again! Even at thousand Peter-Pence

All this roots in perennial thrift
of Balder who lost his human person
to a timeless void for choice heaven's gift.
Gone from this land he saved from done undone.

Now this time but lingers forward,
where Angels lie in stone
than on cloud; A time now disarray'd
in a faith restricting and alone

All that is now be memory.
of childer who stay wall-shackled
in fear godly wrath and love of Whiteash tree.
in a faith led by tithe to those rich crackled

still the Whiteash tree is gone.
Where Balder bled himself dry,
for sins of others on our earth-forlorn
And Woden in majesty shed a silent cry.

For this loving deity's demise
sought abrupt unshodden tears
in all, regardless of familial despise.
As both tree and divine disappeared to music of deific spheres.

The wild lot tore the sky asunder by cries adrift.
"Balder! Balder, thank ye lord for yon sacrifice."
The lost priestly lot renewed the last crying shift
with words unlike the ones said before: portends of cruel demise.

"Cristos, Ye brought to me new vision
"preposterous for you to be in pagan pantheon
"ye son of only nameless God too mighty to shun.
"Cristos! Cristos and not Balder of boor-lot plebian."

this the tale of faiths that clash.
Ashen wood forts fell to Pitch and Tar
Joy and grace renewed as stoic blind faith rash.
both faiths ever the same, just doubt clouded hearts all.

~*~

Tyger -- the long lost one --

[Midnight Moonlight]

Sorta what I'm going through right now. It's not much, but for something out of raw emotion written in about two minutes at 1:30 in the morning, I think it's alright.

Angel Tears

Rain drops sprinkling from above
Angel tears cried for lost loves
So many thoughts through her head
She only wishes she was dead
See him one last time before she goes
Poor boy only thinks he knows
He thinks he saved her and that he won
Doesn’t know that tomorrow she’ll be done.

[Leon-IH]

Watching leaves in summer
Listening to the south wind
Can't stop the cold inside me
Don't want to try and bind

Got no feelings in the chill
Back to the summer grind
Wish my time was a video
If only i could press rewind

I can't feel the heat again
I'm lost inside my thought
All alone the burning sun
This destiny that i wrought

It's still too cold, burning
Summer is dead for me
I can't understand it now
Why are you trying to see

~ this sounds wierd, it's about a summer where someone is too sad to care about the warmth on them, if you didn't gather that.

[achooxp]

not good at this stuff as is, but here's a go.


Spotlight

Ladies and gentlemen
Having no more pride to bow
I rest here, bent,
Hoping the spotlight will dance
It's grand and swell
The razzle dazzle of it all
Nobody looks out for
Me but me
I never follow but those who
Seem crazy and burn in me
A star nowadays
Never shone in darkness

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

My first, nubish Poem. Written 1 minute ago. On my wordpad. I felt like expressing myself. It's probably full of spelling errors, etc...

What will come tomorrow?

What will come tomorrow?
What will come today?
Will it be joy or will it be sorrow?
Will it remain the same way?

What will come tomorrow? Mother doesn't know.

Do I have to cry?
Do I have to laugh?
Will I have to lie?
Or will I have to love?

What will come tomorrow? Father doesn't know.

Will I fear pain?
Will I fear death?
Will I break the chain?

What will come tomorrow?

Will it be rain?
Or will it be snow?

For you will never know...

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

2 Other poems I wrote. They have a meaning to it.


Another Poem

Another Poem, I will make.
Another Poem, reputation at stake.

What am I saying? Reputation?
Why am I staying? Transformation?

I have no reputation, no title, no pride.

Who will respect me?
Who will destroy me?
Do not ask, you will see.

It is only a poem, another poem...

Written by who?
Written for who?

Is it for me? Is it for you?

It does not matter. It is only another poem...

******************************

Love

How does it feel?

Does it feel nice?
Does it feel cold?

No,
It feels like gold.

That precious feeling.
My heart, is what you are stealing.

Your love is what I desire.
Your smile is what I admire.

You love me on the inside,
But hate me on the outside.

Why does it happen?
Why is it there?

Love.

[PancaKe]

thats a cute poem about love. It captures what i want to feel one day ^.^ I wanna fall in love. awww

**

Ive seen the look in your eyes
Ive got no reason to hold on
Ive got no reason to die

I'm alone
In my arms I hold myself
Keeping me away from someone else
Alone, I try to save myself
From my pain...

Your commands command me not to be me
Demands demand I hide not be free
Request that I stay beside myself
Inside my self
Hidden away
away

Ive been within your shoes
Youve got no reason to hold on
Handing me these issues

Caged
Gripping these bars with sweat and blood
Questions what have I done
Deserving everything and none
Its your game

Your commands command me not to be me
Demands demand I hide not be free
Request that I stay beside myself
Inside my self
Hidden away
away

Spread my wings and fly
Into the bars that keep me inside
Away from their world
Away from their tainted world
I want to make my own choice
I want to be my own voice
I want to make my noise and cry out
Against your game

Ive seen the look in your eyes
Ive decided if I want to leak
Ill be allowed to cry

Your commands command me not to be me
Demands demand I hide not be free
Request that I stay beside myself
Inside my self
Hidden away
away

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Suicide

I'm sitting here. Watching, staring.
Waiting for the time, that he will come.
Waiting, ready to die.

I'm tired of waiting. When will he come?
How much longer, must I bare the pain?
The pain of ignorance.

I'm tired of waiting. When will he cme?
How much longer, must I feel alone?
The feeling of pain, the feeling of destruction.

I'm tired of waiting. He will never come.
I must go to him.
I must be free, free of all pain.

I will go. Go to him.
With only a minor movement,
The pain will go away

Suicide. It is only another step.
A step towards total freedom, the freedom of us all.

[Greyfox]

thats a cute poem about love. It captures what i want to feel one day ^.^ I wanna fall in love. awww
It can be very painful... but despite all the heartache, I'd say it's quite worth it... despite how one-sided my love for her is...

...but anyway; here's more from Requiem. Try not to fake your enjoyment.

ALONE

verse one
stranded in the dying breaths of thousands
you stand in the darkness helpless
awaiting death to come for thou in the sands
the anticipation is worse than death itself
chorus
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a lure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a cure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for your dying breath
verse two
stranded in the darkness by yourself
having witnessed their tragic deaths
you wish to be removed from this filth
awaiting your last
chorus
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a lure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a cure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for your dying breath
interlude
chorus
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a lure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for a cure
all alone (in the darkness)
waiting for your dying breath
bridge
you lay yourself into the sands
awaiting your final
looking for your strands
of time, you lose yourself once more

-Grey

[PancaKe]

Never knew such self control
Find myself within this fold
I'll deny if truth be told
My secret burns within...
Watch you as you wander past
See you in between each class
Time moves slow and you move fast
Crawling beneath my skin...

You have that chocolate stare
Cant wait to see you melt in the sun
You have that sugar coated appetite
Cant wait to watch you admit what you have done
You've fallen in love

Please don't look my skin is hot
When will this come to a stop
Eyes tired all movement lost
Choose to be deaf...
This umbrella keeps me dry
From those tears which you cry
Whoever did this to you should die
Look at whats left...

You have that chocolate stare
Cant wait to see you melt in the sun
You have that sugar coated appetite
Cant wait to watch you admit what you have done
You've fallen in love

Sticky tape will fix anything
Mending with this piece of string
How close to mine can I bring
What youve got
Once upon a time again
They started off as just friends
He loved someone else and then
He got hurt and she was there....

You have that chocolate stare
Cant wait to see you melt in the sun
You have that sugar coated appetite
Cant wait to watch you admit what you have done
You've fallen in love
again...

[LilyPichu]

If roses talk, they'd understand

The color red and life’s demand

As petals die, they brush away

The fragments of just yesterday

To say I'm lost would be a lie

The roads sustain my steps' demise

I sleep without the knowledge of

What’s coming down from high above

Life's silhouette is vaguely seen,

to keep it just - simple and clean

The way that I want things to be

The way that I need things to be

Death can echo through the waves

But it cannot my hidden cave

It cannot my heart’s last plea

It cannot - my Sanctuary


8D;; I wrote three poems in my lifetime.

[PancaKe]

Only three poems in ur life? wow thats so good!

*put to shame :(*

[LilyPichu]

Poetry isn't hard. For me, I think of it this way- bunch of words put together, with at least one rhyming word at the end of each line.

XD Yours is awesome too, Pancake. (Very insightful details) ^^

[Tainted]

Lexxi
Lexxi, you’re Queen of the look
And not to my surprise
If being a bomb gave you a mean right hook
Then I’d have two black eyes

Lips, legs, breasts and ass
All the things you bring to class
Lips that smoke, legs that walk,
Breasts that don’t joke, an ass that talks

I’d like to take you out sometime, it’d be really cool
But you moved to some fucking Asian only lesbian school
And it’s all the way in Oshawa, although I’d like to believe
I can’t help from thinking I’ll catch some weird disease

Because Oshawa, it ain’t that clean,
And baby, I know you’re my dream
But love is one thing, and good sex will fade
Both are entirely different from catching AIDS

Maybe we could meet up in Whitby, it’s not that bad
It’s like Oshawa, except not quite that sad
If Oshawa is AIDS, then Whitby is HIV, it’s dull
Not quite as bad but it does have potential

One of these times I’ll drive to your prison
Or school, or whatever the fuck you want to call it
And the chicks will be like “Holy fuck! Christ has risen!”
Because I’ll be the first thing with a cock to ever walk that shit

I’ll bring my guitar and we’ll sing to a song
That doesn’t have much meaning, but nobody will care
Then the Asian schoolgirls will all sing along
And soon we’ll have a Disney fan fair

Then we can go somewhere, just you and me
And make some babies, we’ll name one Lee
And happiness will be born of three
We’ll kill two and keep Lee…
… Because he’s a fucking ninja…

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Toxicity]

Wrote this recently out of boredom during Literature, being within a poetry unit and all...but I just couldn't resist. Oddly, Breaking Benjamin's "Away" played over and over again in my head as I wrote it.


Believe
Seeing is one thing; believing is another...

I fell again; no stopping this time
Ever so swiftly, like losing my mind
If I can forget, it could be alright
But when the sin repeats, you lose sight

Cold and distant, never felt so much before
As if strucken blind and beaten more
It's isolation more than ever now
But until the end, there is no core

Could I fly away to make it alright?
Is there away to see again?
Have I ever really seen the truth?
If I have, lies I hope to hear no more.

Is what I'm told fact or fiction?
I've heard too much to know anymore.
If maybe I could give times of silence to think,
maybe, just maybe, I'll finally believe.

Could I fly away to make it alright?
Is there a way to see again?
As the sun of cruelty sets on my tormented world,
maybe the moon of truth could heal.

Who do I listen to now?
Is there anybody who can see
the broken soul underneath the calm body?
Is there anybody who can help me...believe...?

...the difference between a daughter and mother

My opening/closing metaphor was actually inspired by my personal life, by how me and my mother are completely different in every way.

[Leon-IH]

Don't try to know me
I don't think I'll take my mask away
Because of you I never knew
Sinking into darkness as we flew
And nightmares that came true

You know too much about me
For me to feel ok this way
I came here to conquer
But I'll be king for half a day

Life so short we forget to live
I'm just king for a day or two
I live a plain life all for you
Bleak solidarity that we knew

You know more than I do of me
Which makes me want die
Why is life so difficult to enjoy
Today we live, tomorrow we cry.



Simple poem with a simple motto: Don't try and get into someone else's life too much.


Die
Were all going to die someday
Somehow in a cold dark place
We all fall from the happy life
Falling from a world of grace

Living to die away each day
Trying to fly and falling down
Mermaids singing to our life
Human voices make us drown

I don't want to know it
I don't know how to feel
Death begins at birth
Life is a crazy ideal.


Yeah, another simple one: the last 2 lines of the second part are from a poem we read in english last year, will find the name of it sometime.


Thanks Religion
I don't give a fuck any more
You knocked me out the door
Kicked me when I was on the floor
And now you want me to fight a war

Your a fuckin anti-rights activist
Total motherfucking reactivist
Call me a drunken elitist
Easily countered monarchist

Refuse to listen to reason
I disagree you scream treason
We live without a vision
And die off with the season

Now it's all broken to nothing
You claim to prevent suffering
There's a whole load of lying
All the good people are dying

Thanks to you.

[Greyfox]

Revived topic!

ADDICTION

intro
higher than the mountains or the sky
but still not high enough to try
for anything particular this night
verse one
well its been two years since i
tried to live my life a lie
tried to let myself just die
i need to work myself today
i need to keep temptation at bay
by launching myself into the fray
chorus
higher than the mountains or the sky
i've been living my life one big lie
i've been through hell just to stay dry
trying just to stay alive
verse two
well another month has just past
i hope this nullification can last
in this overwhelming task
i need to work myself today
i need to keep temptation at bay
by launching myself into the fray
chorus
higher than the mountains or the sky
i've been living my life one big lie
i've been through hell just to stay dry
trying just to stay alive
interlude
chorus
higher than the mountains or the sky
i've been living my life one big lie
i've been through hell just to stay dry
trying just to stay alive
bridge
higher than the mountains or the sky
but still not high enough to try
i'm still living my life a big lie
i can't do this and not die
trying just to stay alive
trying just to stay–

I first wrote this one when I was eighteen-years old, almost three years ago. I thought I was writing it about someone else, someone else who was addicted to sins that she was trying to relieve herself from. But when I look at it now, I realize that this song was actually written about me, and my addiction.

Hopefully now that I realize this I can get over this obstacle.

-Uncle Grey

[PancaKe]

yay for grey reviving the topic!!!

anyway, this is a work in progress, with heavy shakespearian influence, because of stupid othello we're studying. lyrics hopefully for a heavy metal stylish song. no punk rock atm ^_^

Weighting intentions to explain
from such an act thou doth refrain
Shall not I beg shall not I plead
Curiosity kills of knownce thy deed
Cherubs upon clouds witness my stay
Over the hills not be such a day
Since the sun returns to its nightly rest
Explanations frustrations doth I protest

Lights with death along this street
Silent stalkers behind my feet
Lies and scenes thou hath portray
I now know when you turn away
Listen the drought to my speech is here
Listen thy whisper thy name to ear
Oh ye of little faith I abhore
Telling me promises then saying no more...

Essesnce will linger among the dew
These scents unbury tales a few
Thou hast forgiven thou hast forgot
Thou is remind for the song of the clock
Dusk upon dusk gazing at galaxies
Not more but mere wishes hoping to be
Thy fairytale dream wakes with a breath
Reality doth put it back to death

Listen the drought to my speech is here
Listen thy whisper thy name to ear
Oh ye of little faith I abhore
Telling me promises then saying no more...

[Leon-IH]

Little poem that probably could convert into a punk/rock song.

**** the American Dream
Dont tell me how to die
Shut the **** up and fly
Lived your ****ed up lie
Cause it's all gone awry

I hate the yankee dream
Stupidity makes me scream
**** you and your glass screen

Trust nobody with a knife
Cause the death and strife
Live, die and **** a wife
It's meant to be a mans life

I hate the yankee dream
Stupidity makes me scream
**** you and your glass screen

Your just a broken record
A silent series on a cord
Dyin in your palliative ward
You voted in Bush and Ford

I hate the yankee dream
Stupidity makes me scream
**** you and your glass scream

Don't take a moral stance
Your life ain't worth a glance
Live life as a last prance
We only get one time to dance

I hate the yankee dream
Stupidity makes me scream
**** you and your glass scream

**** the American Dream
**** the waking nightmare




Another poem...


On this wall I hang, my life one of many in a room of dust

I tried to live the way I should
In my life I did what they said
And they said my way was good

I lived each day as the last day
I donated half my money to CCF
Each afternoon I'd sit and pray

I dreamed of my eternal reward
The minister told me it was good
That nothing was at all untoward

They told me I'd have heaven
If I lived through all the hells
Should have stopped to listen

On judgement day I'll be OK
Because I lived my lifetime
In the good christian way

In this room I am surrounded by people lured by the same promise

[Tainted]

This is a song I wrote for solo use, just for me and my acoustic.

Everytime I play it for buddies, or at parties, I feel like I kill a little of myself inside, because this thing is just so damn powerful to me, as it's entirely about me. I don't even know how to describe the feeling, it's like I'm opening my ribcage so everyone can look at my innards.

This song is everything about who I was, who I am, and who I'm going to be, and it's the most powerful thing I've ever written, at least to myself.


Downer
“Those that live, they live so alive
They die with best wishes, then live in the sky
Those infested with demons, those that strive to get higher
Burrow themselves deeper, until they feel the fire”

These days they become harder as they go on
And I’m starting to wonder about my luck
It seems all my life cannot be pawned
And I’m ready to scream out loud fuck

Believe these days, they’re not the days
The days that we lived forever
Because these days, they’re not the days
The days when our minds were so clever

Broken, can you glue my wounds up?
Taken, can you patch my faults shut?
Bleeding, lap up my life
Downer, there’s loss of the night

Remember the straight edge mentality
Remember when drugs were so wrong
Remember when girls got excited
When we said we’d live life all the long

Remember our first joint together
It smelled sweet as a harlots perfume
And hours later we were sailing the skies
Without a care, and with plenty to do

Broken, can you glue my wounds up?
Taken, can you patch my faults shut?
Bleeding, lap up my life
Downer, there’s loss of the night

Now who are we? Now who are we?
We’re potheads and burnouts and low lives
We’re not who we were. We’re not who we were.
We’re hoping these days they don’t die

We’re going nowhere, you’re going nowhere
He’s going nowhere, she’s going nowhere
We’re going nowhere, you’re going nowhere
Life’s going nowhere, we’ll always go nowhere

Broken, can you glue my wounds up?
Taken, can you patch my faults shut?
Bleeding, lap up my life
Downer, there’s loss of the night

Broken, my wounds can’t be glued up
Taken, my faults dug too deep to shut
Bleeding, I bled all I can bleed
Downer, it’s just another fix that I need

“Some need a release
Without bible, without priest
We’ve all got our demons
And we’ve all got our reasons”

The line "we've all got our demons, and we've all got our reasons" is the most meaningful thing to myself that I've ever written, and if you can decipher the hidden message I applaud you.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[PancaKe]

I love that line too. ^_^ Damn I wish I could write like that. *grumbles* I perosnally think that that line is also self interpreting. I basically interpereted it as we've all got the bad habits and the bad things we do, but we've also got our reasons for doing them and for doing whatever we do. ^_^ and it is so true. Damnit! I wanna wriet like that!! :cry:

[Tainted]

You're close, but I was aiming for more of a "we all need a release." Some write to release, some draw, some scream into a pillow, but there are many that resort to alcoholism or drugs. Now, I intepreted drugs as "demons," like a little monkey that sits on your back to push forth the addiction.

So the line "We've all got our demons and we've all got our reasons" means, in a nutshell, that you should never look down upon someone that does drugs, because they very well may have a good reason to be doing them. And the same goes for any type of activity, not just drugs.

The second stanza is talking about addiction, hence the "pawn" line which connects to selling all of your shit just to get some drug money. Then after that it pretty much recaps on how everything got started, etc.

The line "Downer, there's loss of the night" means that without these drugs that you can no longer afford because now you're a bum that's sold everything to keep up his habit, you're at loss of the night-- loss of the parties, and so on.

Well, that's about it.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[LilyPichu]

you're all so good. @.@ This is my first time writing a poem without a quatrain...x_x prolly turned out weird.



Four natures once in harmony
Divided into half
To thrive alone in solitude

Amused- vain as a flower is
The rose just sits and laughs
Passive and oblivious

Withering, four petals fall
She plasters on a smile
Leaving death enthralled

Life has finally took its toll
Too late the rose has realized
Four natures back as whole

[dratinihaunter13]

I like that poem LilyPichu. tough time to quit the quatrain when you're talking about 4 natures >_<, with the natures getting cut in half then reuniting at four at the end, there's a lot of cool structural stuff you could do throughout the poem to reflect that.

k, i've changed style recently. here's a random one-
--

how to sing

switch the shucks, this rustle
glisten to the sun rays scorching
soaking obsidian

connect the necks
one to the next

soulful moan, the long day gone
throat the notes, no no they home
fervor reverberates

[Leon-IH]

Mankind
From what do I run
What am I fearing
I fear nothing but me
Heat of mind searing

I am just another being
Another man of malice
Just another piece of dust
Killing nature's crysalis

What makes me this
We are all unforgiven
In this forgotten world
By demons we are driven

[Tainted]

I love the analogy in this one, especially the fact that what "love" starts off at breaks down further and further until it's only a puddle. So, there's a message behind the analogy as well.


Black

Our love is black ice
You can’t see it
But you know it’s there
When you slip

Our love is black ice,
Black as the eight ball
You know it’s there
But only when you fall

Our love melts to black water
Stinks of poison, what do you think?
Our love is black water
Stinks of poison, so let’s have a drink

Our love is a black shower
Bathing in the night to rid of the dirt
Our love is a black shower
Burning the skin, it burns and it hurts

Our love is black sweat
Breaks free of the skin when we fuck
Our love is black sweat
Stains the sheets with glue and we’re stuck

Our love makes black puddles
Left behind to evaporate after we’re done
Our love makes black puddles
The sight leaves me undone

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Greyfox]

/me revives topic.

Here's a lyric torn straight from the pages of angelus corpus (second chapter still in progress) </shamelessplug>. It's the literature that Locke Dièmestès wrote for his love Mendardi before her passing... it's quite sad...


COME TO MINE LIGHT
Who are you...
i am you...
love eternal...
nothing false but true...
dreamless dreams...
a sleepless night...
the sandman and his lullaby...
come hither to mine light...
lost memories...
a forgotten cycle...
skies so blue...
yet an ever ending revival...
unforgiving sacrifice...
a beautiful love...
time is hard...
flying like a dove...
revengeful thoughts...
tainted skies...
look to tomorrow...
for i apologize...
i have seen the world...
i have climbed the skies...
i have been to the heavens...
never will you hear my lies.

-Grey, uncle

[dratinihaunter13]

Rekliner

Rekline and laze and fall asleep.
a pleasure says her lips.
she sits to rest, release the thought.
the leather ‘gainst her hips.
she pulls the lever close to her,
she lowers soft and slow.
and on command the seat reforms,
to lay her like a real pro.

that thought pops back in.
she’s relaxed her guard just enough,
too much for her
and such and such.
she grasps the leather,
still there right?
she eyes the lever,
but can’t pass the loud pounding headache.
no problem. stand up. just to talk.
the br - hello?
hey! how have you been? tell me a story.
wish i could, best friend of mine,
but you sound so tired of the story sometimes.

[PancaKe]

^_^ that was such a cool poem!! ^_^ so simple and madness :)

[Chris Watarimono]

Here's mine. Note that this isn't the first poetry I wrote, although this is the very first poem being posted to an outside audience (school assignments don't count BTW).

Life Imitates Art

The lover searches for the other
O’er the midnight hour
Threads of fate woven together in a mosaic of constellations
The patchwork representing their undying love

The love embraces the pendant near the heart
Feeling the beats of a smooth yet monumental rhythm
An orchestra of emotions freeing from the bondage of shyness and ridicule
Playing stanzas of surging excitement, falling fear, and climatic uncertainty

The lover returned to the spot
When they first met ten years ago
Arriving now ten minutes past the clock
Yet the journey felt like ten hours more
A pile of land insignificant by many, scorned by some, admired by few
And only embraced by two

The lover looks o’er the midnight skies
As if vouching for the Will of Heaven for guidance of where the other might be
Creating icy chills as the other makes way, forging a coat of despair
Welling up inside like some kind of malicious parasite; feeding from the scourge within

The lover yet remains steadfast despite these urges, promising not the break the seal
Safeguarding it so that it may never be broken
For otherwise, it may release insecurity, mistrust, and lust – the three ingredients that undermine love
Comparable in destruction to the accursed box of the naïve maiden
And incalculable in magnitude

The lover and the other reunite
The rhythm relaxes in tranquility
The spot now becoming something of significance
The demons shattered
The seal was not broken
Holding each other, looking into each of their unwavering eyes, waiting for those words to arrive…
Instead all that comes out is a vanishing goodbye

The lover and the other knew they had to part
It was as fate had other plans for them at the start
Finally, at long last, they let go and head off on their own ways under the midnight hour once more
Because in ten years more, they’ll be ready and true love will once again show

-Chris R.

[Leon-IH]

Enter
I'm just living the lie
Here I sit waiting to die
Watching as you all fly
Off into a sombre sky

Living the lie with others
Them and thier mothers
Little kids and brothers
Lost souls and lovers

Welcome to the lie my son
You can be an actor, a star
You can go anywhere alive
No touch brings a scar

People bring thier kids up
To believe in ****in miracles
Then they ask why it is
They're angry when they find it aint true.

[dratinihaunter13]

ben, Hide Dave

lurker, tinkering with locale.
all over nine footfalls back.
informed, absorbing, overheard.
hawk-eyed, gawk in check.
bat-click, clueless talk.
expert’s access, lobotomy.
informants give plenty of glimpse,
to ben ely.

[sesshomaru]

THE EAGLE

The eagle soars above us,
Too graceful and peaceful to cause a fuss,
Surrounding our nation in pride,
So we protect it side by side,
The eagle is great,
And we follow it to our fate.

Is it semi-decent?

DESTINY

Our destiny is our path to which we end,
But along that road we intertwine with others and and our paths both bend,
But it always has a purpose no matter what,
Even if you're a lonely mutt,
So keep on going even when it seems like it has ended,
Because even if it seems like that it can be mended,
Run and hurry to fullfill your fate,
Even if you fullfill it late,
It shall still be done and all well,
Unless you don't and go to hell.

And that one?

[Tainted]

The whole thing is an analogy about me and this girl I know that recently moved away. I figured two appropriate roles would be the hunter and the robin, since, well, my last name's Hunter and her name is Robin. So this was a tribute to her.

Some lines you might not get that were sort of inside jokes:
"The Hunter's left-hand wrong" is a reference to how she said my left-hand was always right, because it always hit the right spots if you catch my drift. The line about my beer being sour is a true story-- for some reason I got really shitty sour beer once but there was no way I was going home or going sober, so I drank all of my sour beer and felt like so much shit but she comforted me the whole way. :p


Tomorrow
The birds are so damn pretty
The hunter’s left-hand wrong
Their relationship never ending
Living this way all the long

Chirping at midnight hour
Is a robin perched in a tree
The hunter, his beer is sour
But his taste for her is sweet

He can’t reach her if he tried
And his aim was never that good
So they sit adjacent, wishing to die
Without much but her song to fuel the mood

“Some day I’ll get her” he said
“ Maybe tomorrow”
“Someday I’ll find her” he said
“Maybe tomorrow”

“Some day I’ll get her” he said
“Maybe tomorrow”
“Someday I’ll fill her world with light”
“And kill the sorrow”

The branch represents separation
But his mood never declines
He thinks about how good she’d taste
For days and weeks of the time

He wonders about just how she’d look
‘Cause he’s only seen pictures so far
He wonders if she’d be just like he thought
‘Cause he’d like her just how she are

And maybe one taste would be good enough
To make him ever so slightly moan
If he could have one little taste of her
He could get her whole when he was grown

“Some day I’ll get her” he said
“Maybe tomorrow”
“Someday I’ll find her” he said
“Maybe tomorrow”

“Some day I’ll get her” he said
“Maybe tomorrow”
“Some I’ll kill her world”
“Ignite the sorrow”

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Dark
Darkness is my brother
Always a friend in need
The others all walk away
Darkness comes to stay

He's my friend
And you will see
His ways are my reality

Hating the sunlight white
Flying into every night
Living life without spite

Hate my life
And you will see
I hate your sanity

Hate hate hate
Love love love
Hate to love the darkness
But kiss it goodnight

Listening to every word
Laughing at each heard
Telling you it's a fuckin lie
Today party, tomorrow die

The 'kiss it goodnight' thing is just my way of saying sometimes we hate what we want - doubt many people will get it, but it's somewhat meaningful to me.

[Tainted]

Every Little Moment is an Image in a Photograph
For every step you take
For every wound you make
For every time you fall
For every foot you crawl

For every taste of wine
For every time you dine
For every single deed
For every time you plead

For every promise you break
For every illness you fake
For every time you cry
For every little white lie

For every little scrape
For every birth you celebrate
For every time you’re scorned
For every death you mourn

For every time you cry
For every time you want to die
For every piercing that you rip
For every mushroom on which to trip

For every tattoo to explain
For every time you play “the game”
For every party you attend
For every broken bone you mend

For every sport you like to play
For every time, inside you stay
For every line you memorize
For every brain behind your eyes

For every wish that don’t come true
For every old that becomes new
For every day you come to waste
For every kiss you yearn to taste

You live
Inhale
Exhale
And lie

Birth
Breathe in
Breathe out
And die

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[dratinihaunter13]

SelfHelp*

All these verses are to appease my anger with myself.
For falling foolishly so fast, but I’m past it.
Your kindly ways were finely gave,
Yet friendliness explains this.
And nothing more is set for sure.
The foolish way I interpret.

Now I let go, late like always,
But not before being sore.
Venting verses of my hate
For you, I thought, but no.

That bitterness was mine to give
And mine to take for anger’s sake
Of how my heart would shake,
When nothing ever shook it.

So I end the tension
For the original intention
Of friendship.
My heart will pay more attention next time.

*no lasting effects, check expiration date

[Tainted]

Vain in this usage means worthless! :eng101:


True Love is Vain until it Hits a Vein
Oh, baby
My love for you is as long
As this song
And I know it can’t be true
Cause I’m done

I actually sung this before I wrote it at a party, that time of the party when it's pretty much over and everyone is just sitting around tripping instead of rocking their asses off. So with my buddies acoustic I was singing some shit, and the girl I was with that night told me to sing a song for her. So, with a big long beautiful song planned I tried to belt some shit out, but only got to the line "As this song," when I ran out of words and thoughts, so I ended it accordingly.

As drunk as she was, she loved it.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Love, hate
Why do I hate you so much
When I dream about you
Why is this my cycle of life
Will my feelings ever be true

I can't trust myself to love
Because inside I hate so
Don't trust the things I say
Believe what we don't know

Hate me hate my world
Hate the fact I can't love
Kill the fact I hate so
**** off like a dove


Yeah I'm a little angry, and a bit sleepy when I'm writing this one.

[Tainted]

Hello
Hello—it’s me again
Your sick little puppet
Call me what you what I’m
Just an inanimate object

Fuck me like you did last time
Make me shout your name
The release it brings release
But it still don’t kill your pain

I’m your little puppet
Your fucking little puppet
You fuck it and you suck it
Try to kill away the pain

I’m your little puppet
Your fuck stick on the ground
As much as I’m inanimate, I’m
Always here when you’re down

You call my name
When you can’t find the vein
When the needle don’t work
And you still feel the pain

Shout my name
Shout my fucking name
Shout my name, tonight
Shout my name

Hello—it’s me again
Your sick little puppet
Strings are drawn, puppeteer
Are you ready to fuck it?

Hello—it’s me again
Your sick little puppet
Call me what you want I’m
Just an inanimate object

Hello—when’s the last time
We’ve said hello, anyway?
Last time we met you stripped me down
And put me down to lay

Hello—can I hear a hello?
Puppeteer you make me sick
I may be made of wood and shit
But mark my words, I ain’t no fuck stick

Hello—fuck you, fuck fucking you
And fuck your fucking attitude
And fuck those drugs and things you do
And fuck the needles that you use

Hello—fuck your face, fuck everything
Fuck this life, this world, it’s insane
Fuck your box, those fucking games you play
Cut my strings cause it’s all the same

Hello—mother fucker, it’s time to play
Puppeteer hoist me up, show me the way
To go home, cause I’m lost and I got no one to guide
And my strings may be cut, but I ain’t broken on the inside

Hello—

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[PancaKe]

Despite how much swearing you have in your songs, and how much i disagree with the subjects - I love the way you write , its awesome and yeah ^_^;; <3

[LilyPichu]

Wow, Tainted. Despite the curses, I love the refrain. =D

I was bored. ~_~




Life unwinds
Slowly, one by one
Unraveled pain
Contemplation
Of death

Beginning ‘til
A new sun’s risen
Threads of gold
Weaving across
Cutby scissors

A child’s play
Life in their hands
Relishing
The sweetness
Tasting the bitter

Succumbed to facts
Aesthetic ethics
An altered law
No more bliss
Or mere foolishness?

Deep within
The pits of black
A strangled line
Of losing time
Too late to turn back

Simple first
Inquisitive meet
A dangled kiss
Abandoned of lust
Frowned upon both

Mystified looks
But she does not care
A naiveté heart
For the one she wants
Reason she aches

Opposing one
Reflection of hers’
Him, a willful pride
A stubborn streak
He does not care

‘Tis too late
She had been warned
Futile pleads
A desperate cry
To nonexistence

Morning dew
Resting on leaves
'though cut harshly
Sun’s golden threads

Evaporating

[Tainted]

Thanks you two.

For this one: railroading is also a term to describe looking for veins (tracks) to shoot up (heroin.)


Railroading
All aboard my little Choo-Choo
Finding the tracks that’ll make your day
Climb aboard my little train wreck
Buckle up and let me take you away

Let me take you under my wing
I’ll show your eyes everything
They need to see, you see to believe
Even the strongest will bleed

Choo-Choo goes the train as we’re railroading
Finding the right tracks in this maze
All aboard goes the conductor, his bright smile showing
Find the right train, c’mon it’s only a phase

Sit back and enjoy the ride
When will it end? Any time
Now, at least if I think I’m right
In this state I don’t know day from night

Let the light outside show you the way
‘Cause I ain’t all that bright today
But I need you, baby
I need you, little lady

Choo-Choo goes the train as we’re railroading
Finding the right tracks in this maze
All aboard goes the conductor, his darkness growing
Find the right train, you never cease to amaze

I will support you when you fall
I’m always here to aid the call
Just lure me over, find the right lane
And show me inside your strongest vein

I won’t support you, maybe contort you
Maybe leave you blue
I won’t be needed, you’re fucking conceited
It’s not all about you

Choo-Choo goes the train as we’re railroading
Finding the tracks in this maze
All aboard goes the conductor, his black eyes glowing
Find the right train, it’ll be one of those days

You’ll find me anywhere you care to look
Every cranny, every nook
And even where I dare not say
I will watch you pay

Close your eyes, look on the inside
Close your mind, do you confide
In me, I seem to be so needing
Of the way you say today you’re bleeding

Choo-Choo goes the train as we’re railroading
Finding the tracks in this maze
All aboard goes the conductor, his black heart showing
Find the right train to kill the pain

Choo-Choo, can you hear it coming?
Choo-Choo, can you feel the shake?
Choo-Choo, I can hear your words are mumbling
Choo-Choo, here comes the train, a life to take

Twist from tracks, a path cut anew
Train lay broken, body askew
And in these days, the train insane
I ride just to hide the pain

All aboard!

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[dratinihaunter13]

poem! i hate adding background so figure it out yourselves :angry:

"Saving Friday"

The last cat callers are out
Guess you’re working tonight
You would say that I’m judging you
Or should I just listen to his ass
Like luring slurs roll to formulate-
Life’s precious, savor.
You gasp and swallow for it
From name starts with a J
To vainly resuscitate
You’re mired
Reflection

[Tainted]

Broken From the Tracks
You say that you’re perfect, baby I heard it
I don’t need to hear it twice
You said you can teach me, maybe release me
Maybe that would be nice

I may be different, but I ain’t consistent
I don’t need you to hold on to
You might think it’s easy, baby, you tease me
Just wait until I’m through

You think you’re better, maybe with a sweater
Cause you ain’t the best I’ve seen
And it’s all created, baby you fake it
You’re better in my dreams

I’m not complete without hearing you say
How you want Earth spinning your way
You got a conscience, why don’t you pray?
So maybe you’ll have someone hearing you say

Don’t base your decisions, off the world that you live in
Cause sometimes it just ain’t right
You say you can change me, maybe exchange me
To better represent your sight

And now you resent me, plain out condemn me
For what I believe is true
Baby, we’re unique, even though you’re weak
The world don’t revolve ‘round you

You say that you’re perfect, you ain’t worth it
Not worth an hour or two
I don’t want you to teach me, don’t want to release me
I’m fine just the way I’m glued

I’m not complete without hearing you say
How you want Earth spinning your way
You got a conscience, why don’t you pray?
So maybe you’ll have someone hearing you say

I’m not complete
How you want Earth
You got a conscience
So maybe you’ll have

Hearing you say
Spinning your way
Why don’t you pray?
Someone hearing you say

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[The Decapitated Mole]

Well, we just did our most boring unit ever in English for the last three weeks [actually, we just started Romeo and Juliet, so I shouldn't talk, my teacher should be able to ruin that for everyone], and as the final big thing everyone in my class had to write a narrative poem. Here's how the first two days went:

Teacher: Ok class, today you all work on your poems. They're due friday!
*chaos ensues*

Here's how last Wednesday went:

Teacher: Ok class, today you all work on your poems. They're due monday!
*chaos ensues*
Steve: What should my poem be about?
Me: You should take over the world.
Steve:...
Me: ...with eggs plus.
*steve gets writin'*

Here's how Friday went:

Teacher: Ok class, today you all work on your poems. They're due tuesday!
*chaos ensues*
Me: What should my poem be about?
Steve: Eggs Minus.


So there you have it. Just thought I should give you a little backstory before I went into the poems, so now, I present to you....



Stephen Lyman
4/18/05
Block 2


The Adventures of Steve and Eggs Plus

Come child, let me tell you a story
Come closer now you don’t have to worry.
This is a story of the greatest adventure
And this is due to popular conjecture.

And now on with the tale!
It’s the greatest ever written.
Don’t pick your nose Billy, that’s not very good,
And Mary, why don’t you put down that kitten.

There once was a chicken holding boy.
His name happened to be Steve.
This chicken boy was full of joy!
He had found the golden chicken.

This chicken was a special chicken.
It laid the scrumptious eggs plus.
They cost a lot of money, so you had better be rich,
But if you can get them, it’s a must.

Steve decided to market these eggs
And put out of business eggs minus.
He partnered with Shaw’s
And planned to put out of business eggs minus.

The marketing team set the price to one million,
The shipping team set up transportation,
The grocery store team set up the display area,
And Steve went to oversee the arrival to the American nation.

"Hey you! Be careful!" Shouted Steve.
"Those eggs are a million a pop!"
"All right, all right," said the stock boy.
"I’ll be careful! These eggs, they will not drop."

On opening day of the brand new Shaw’s Plus
The eggs made their debut.
Bill Gates showed up and bought a few,
And a hobo showed up and got the boot.


"We’ve made a killing today," Said the manager of the store.
"All those celebrities and millions galore!"
"We’re not done yet," Said Steve to his cohort.
"We can open some vendors in Canada and make even more!"

Those crazy Canadians and their beavers went wild!
Never before had there been such an occasion,
That eggs plus came to town to be sold to the people.
As a promo deal, it was buy one get a box of raisins.

Canada went so well that Steve wanted to expand.
He put up shop in land after land.
He out-built McDonald’s and Burger King combined.
There was no stopping him. He would not stop for any man.

He went to the sun and built a Fried Eggs Plus.
He went to the moon and created the Eggs Plus Colony.
He went to the ocean and made Underwater Plus.
He went to the prison and set an Eggs Plus Felony.

Eggs minus was still alive, though.
Affordable by the people of the norm.
They tasted not as good,
But the cost was just about the same as an ear of corn.

"How will I do it?" Thought Steve.
"They must go out of business!"
"…I know what I’ll do!" Steve thought with a smile.
"We’ll partner up! It’ll be craziness!"

Steve had some talks with Jimm of eggs minus.
They agreed on their terms and got their business together.
Then something surprising happened!
It was very unexpected, and it involved two bids of a feather.

The chicken saw the hen,
The hen saw the chicken.
A couple of censors later and there was a new egg for sale,
It was eggs neutral! They could make both businesses fail.

This eggs neutral had both the qualities.
They tasted mighty fine and cost the same as eggs minus.
With the different eggs and their similarities,
Jimm and Steve could spread their kindness.

They sent these eggs everywhere,
To all their shop locations.
People bought them up by the masses!
It was like they were cheaply priced gas stations.
Bill Gates didn’t need to spend so much now.
The people could get some.
They could get it in mass.
The new marketing scheme got many to come.

There were so many that they fed Ecuador
World hunger was completely over!
South America was happy, they celebrated much.
They transported by helicopter, because they could hover!

There was nowhere these eggs weren’t.
Steve and Jimm got rich.
They bought the whole world!
They cleaned it up and got rid of every glitch.

And that, my children, is the whole tale.
That’s why there’s no tax, or borders, or leaves.
Steve and Jimm hate leaves, they mess up the pool.
And that’s why the world is ever so cool.



Jimm Warren
4/19/05
Block 2

The Adventures of Jimm and Eggs Minus



Gather round, young ‘uns
and I will tell the tale.
I doubt if it will be much fun
But quite frankly, I really don’t care.

It started long ago - late night!
The time - Seven P.M.
Whilst staring at the tube - so bright!
Jimm started - he’d heard the hen.

He ran outside and ate the hen
to stop its wretched cawing.
Then he hopped on the toilet, and when he was done
"Eggs Minus in my bowl!" he was bawling.

Oh how those eggs di’nt glow nor pulse,
no, nothing extraordinary about them.
No sheen, no shine, these eggs were dulls
Misshapen, and the color of day old phlegm.

He picked one up and sniffed at it
‘Twas no great gift for the sinuses,
as were the others beside that one
All bad, those nasty eggs minuses.

He cracked one in his pan so hot
and cooked it to perfection
Too bad - it tasted of Jungle Rot
This wonderful confection.

It was a rather stupid plan
but then, Jimm was a stupid man.
Though he, "my plan will work - it can!"
As he sucked the egg out from his pan

For years Eggs Markets had been run
by chickens, hens, the whole bad lot -
they’d taken the business from the sons
of the farmers with their heinous plot.

They gave us what they didn’t want
we’d get the worst out of their crop,
not caring for our tastes, they’d taunt
"We care not for your tastes!" Bull plop.

Jimm gave a call to his pal The Erb
"These people - so used to these horrible eggs,
mine, they’re slightly better’n what they’re eating in the ‘burbs,
Eggs Minus’ll sell like good hotcakes - with legs!

He hit up the doctor at his office downtown
spoke up with a "doc, I’ve got a hen in my behind!"
The doc looked at him kindly, turned his frown upside-down,
"Take it easy, my good man, these things happen all the time!"

He got the hen back, started sellin’ her eggs minus
All the stores now his pals - ‘cept, of course, for Shaw’s.
Even had his own assistant, went by the name of Linus
He’d won - The world was rollin’ round in his paws.

He cornered the marked for years upon years
All were wantin’ a piece of delicious eggs minus
T’other hens out of business, they were all up in tears
He even set up some shops throughout all of the Chinas.

Then one day they came
Steve and his eggs plus.
At first Jimm figured "No game!"
But his employees had started to fuss.

The eggs plus were amazing
but at such a price!
A million and then some kings
Could’ve bought some… maybe thrice.

Jimm: "They did good business,
this eggs plus company,
but their none-too-special prices
left the victory to me."

However, both feared their financial demise,
so Steve, of eggs plus, who were doing the worst
set up a few meetings - a merger would rise,
but Jimm had a plot to leave Steve feeling cursed.

Before he could see his plan into fruition
As terribly bad as it was for the Steve,
Something happened - a thing interrupting his mission
That thing changed the world, and left no one to grieve.

The chicken saw the hen
The hen saw the chicken
A couple of censors later - there’s a new egg for sale…
it was eggs neutral! They could make both businesses fail!

This eggs neutral had both the best qualities
They tasted mighty fine, cost the same as eggs minus!
With the different eggs and their similarities
Jimm and Steve could eas’ly spread their kindness.

They sent these eggs everywhere,
to all their shop locations.
People bought them up by the masses!
Like they were cheaply priced gas stations.

Bill Gates needn’t spend so, now
The common people could get some
They could buy all they’d want, even buy it in mass.
The new marketing scheme got billions to come.

There even so many that they fed Ecuador
World hunger was now completely over!
South America was happy, and they celebrated much
The eggs came by helicopter, as no one could hover.

There was nowhere on Earth these amazing eggs weren’t
Steve and Jimm, well they struck it rich.
They had so much money they bought the whole world!
They cleaned it up, freed it from every glitch.

And that, my children, is the whole long tale
That’s why there’s no tax, nor borders, nor leaves.
Steve and Jimm hate leaves, for they mess up the pool,
And that’s why our world is so eff'tlessly cool.


o_0
jimm

[Leon-IH]

Me, You, Tomorrow?
Just another scratch on the wall
Another fuckin mark in the world
Merely another dying human being
Yet another fuckin waste of life

Another fuck up in a lustful world
Or at least that's how it feels to me
Yet another mix of flesh and blood
Just another fuckin modern man

But at least I'm the same as you
We're all together in a fucked place
Never going to get out of our home
We sit in our own graves, we smile

Each morning we wake up and talk
Each night we go out for a walk
Each day we die a little more
For what tomorrow has in store

[sesshomaru]

Elements


The elements rage around us,
With us oblivious to them,
Fire burnes all in it's path,
Water can rage and others fall into it's wraith,
Wind teares all apart,
Dark slowy separates us from those of who we love like poison from a dart,
Light guides us towards good and away from despair,
Ice can break us or leave us alone being quite fair,
Lava seeps down a mountain burning all in it's way no matter where they run,
The forest is neutral harming none,
The earth can shake killing many and leaving people sad,
But all elements are both good and bad,
No matter how evil they seem they are like people; only hurt when mad.

[Everoy]

Heh, this is a poem that I wrote for the Neopets poem contest, I happily won :D

The 25 Uses of Dung

Dung, dung, wonderful dung.
Dung is so wonderful, especially when flung.

You can make it a dolly, a sword, or a shield,
Or you can fertilize a big green field.

A playpen, a pizza, a couch or a chair,
A basket, a box, or a gooey shirt to wear.

You can eat it or read it or wash it with a Dung Sink.
Have a carpet, or a shelf, or hurl it at a ratfink!

Chew the Chewing Dung! Sit on the Dung Armchair!
Embroider your shorts with it for that extra flair!

Of course, there’s still the Dung Smoothie, the Dung Reclining Chair,
The Dung Cream Sandwich, the Dung Shelf, even Dung Underwear!

I’ve surpassed twenty-five; my list just had to grow,
But I probably didn’t have to use all those synonyms for throw.

[Crystal Tears]

This is a poem I wrote for a 'close friend' eh heh..

For A Moment In Time

For a moment in time, and space…

I forget my pains, my suffering... My past that has haunted me…

I watch your eyes softly glow in the dim light of the setting sun...

For a moment in time and space…

My history passes away, and all that is left is my present. Here with you...

You hear my Heart beat softly, as you hold me close…

All I wanted was the world’s love

All I want was acceptance...

And until now I didn’t realise...

My whole world is in front of me...

Wrapping your arms around me, and holding me close. Whispering words of a promise of forever in time and space...

That you love me...

And that will never change…

[Tainted]

It's a song.


Sweet
Your lips
Are wet
And so
Are mine

Maybe
We could
Find the
Time

To see
Ourselves
Together
Forever

And forever…
Yeah

The life and times…
Forever
Yeah

Just a little bit
(Forever)
Just a little bit
Yeah

Deep in the moment
Dug far within
Rip past the flesh
Burrow in the skin

It hurts
(Just a little bit)
It burns
(Just a little bit)
I’ll cry
(Just a little bit)
I’ll die
(Just a little bit)
Yeah

You say life is bitter-sweet
But it’s all the same to me
So take off all your clothes
And baby, touch your toes

And I say life’s a little-sweet
(La-la, La-la, La-la)
Life’s just a little-sweet
(La-la, La-la, La-la)
Life’s just a little sweet
Yeah

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Religious Ignorance
We sat in a smiling group
Waiting til the day we die
I went down a different path
I realised the faith a lie

What you believe is a lie
Each day I shed a tear
But I know it won't matter
You live on guilt and fear

One for one, life for life
Fuck for fuck, hate for hate
You go and kill children
And expect fathers not to retaliate

[Tainted]

Another song.


Numb
I try to please you all
But it ain’t workin’
I try to get you off
But it’s just hurtin’

I just don’t know
It’s so dumb
I don’t know if I feel anymore
I’m so numb

I push and I fall
I teethe and I crawl
I die all the same
A man ain’t a man without a name

And where’s mine?

I just don’t know
It’s so dumb
I don’t know if I feel anymore
I’m oh so numb

I say love is my greatest fear
Everyone I love disappears
I’m left broken, alone
Nobody near

I just don’t know
It’s so dumb
I don’t know if I feel anymore
I’m so numb

There’s glass and there’s you on the other side
You’re anybody, but you’re asleep
I could save you from slumber by breaking the glass
But I’m too fucking weak

I told you I don’t fucking know
I’m so fucking dumb
I don’t know if I feel anymore
Cause I’m oh so fucking numb

So fucking numb

The sweet sound of sirens as the ambulance draws near
I can no longer speak, but only listen as my eyes tear
It’s so dark, there’s no one here
Without love I have no fear

I don’t know the outcome
This is all too dumb
I can’t feel anything anymore
Everything is fucking numb

Everything is numb

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Everoy]

This is, like, the second "serious" poem I ever wrote. Awfully democratic, though.

War

I pledge my anger
To the president
Of the screwed up States of America.
'Cause Bush is a liar,
And an idiot at best.
Should we really be trusting someone
Who can't even pronounce nuclear?
Or someone who may not have told us
True reasons for war with Iraq?
Is it glory? Violence? Oil?
Or was Bush telling the truth
And he is as stupid as I think
To be chasing nonexistent Weapons of Mass Destruction?
Never before.
Never before have I felt
That my country
Was on the wrong side of a war.
In the Revolutionary War
We fought for our own freedom.
In World War One
We fought to defend a country
That has gotten on the wrong side
Of a much larger menace.
And in the bloodbath of World War Two
We fought for the freedom
Of Jewish citizens
And invaded countries.
And now.
And now, I know of no true reason
For a bloody war with Iraq.
WE are killing and killing
WE are trying to gain
Something that WE don't even know about.
In the words of Louis D. Brandeis,
"Behind every argument
Is someone's ignorance."
And the ignorance is that
Of George W. Bush
Forty-third President
Of the United States of America.



I accidentally wrote a typo in my draft that made it Untied State of America.

[Greyfox]

the Magician and His Bag of Tricks
abra, kadabra, alakazam
the audience is swayed by he who can manipulate
the surroundings
no one is realizing that his world is just a sham
fallen to the gluttonous void
filled to the brim with riches and happiness
that only few can possess
but not with character, only with toys
the magician wows us all with gifts
and we let our grip on everything fall
to the depths of great
no one is realizing that their beliefs will shift
they demand of him more
and he promises as such
but when they don't receive
they begin to abhor
the skies turn to ash and hell rises
what have we turned ourselves to
what have we become
the magician laughs at us, he will defy us
the sun sets
and darkness follows
eternal darkness waits for us
and we've become his pets

GET INTO HEAVEN GUARANTEED
sin once more
god will forgive you
heaven waits

ELEVATOR TO HEAVEN
want to get into heaven?
of course you do
but how?, you ask
it's really quite simple to
forget all that the book tells you
listen only to the preacher man
god sent his son? no way
you have to be a good person to reach the lands
you have to visit god
but only once a week
and you can sin freely
just not in church, that's bleek
good things will happen
if you donate your token
listen to me, i'm god's right-hand
at least ten percent will make it happen
god sent his son? not true
you can't get to valhalla that way
i know what i'm talking about
you can reserve your spot there today
murderers and gays
need not apply
they're sins are far too horrid
for them to even try
it's okay to lie or lust
every day but sunday
just don't talk about it
just kneel down and pray
but only at church

[Toxicity]

I'm not too sure where this one came about.


Depths of Death

Spiraling into my river
A river known as Death
Styx, as you may call it
But only I know its depth

Forever stuck between life and this
You think it's just f*cking bliss
But all this will just pass by
causing others to just mumble "Oh my"

I'm back. Yes, I've risen
Like the sun over your horizon.
Toiling again, in your harsh labor
But laughing without pity is my major.

Create your own opening
Follow it in
Take a deep breath
Then enter the sin
Into these depths...known as Death.

Fall back under, into the earth.
Some would just feel their mirth.
Glee arises, but you experience my path.
For some time, all it is is my wrath.

You feel it coming.
It's maybe the closest thing to hell.
Or is it?
Maybe you'll know by the drone of the bell.

Create your own opening
Follow it in
Take one last deep breath
Then enter the sin
Into these depths...known as Death.

[PancaKe]

Angst Of Times

Do we know the answers
to the questions they ask?
And can we?

Do they know the questions
for which answers they seek?
Please tell me?

Whisper to my ear these
secret things, you keep them
oh so well

Chin to knees, clutch my thighs
and calves, and let the rains
freely fall.

Are we prepared as said?
Are we even ready
at all?

[Toxicity]

Now this is a much lighter tone than Depths of Death, and more of my writing style. It's a bit of a lullaby, which has calmed me down at nights as well as some small children. Note some haikus.


Emerald Sea

Green blades of ocean
Blanketing the world around us
Calmness in your eyes.

The Emerald Sea
lies before you, and guides you
Into a soft dream.

Deep sleep, dream lightly.
Into the emerald sea you surf,
and rest in deep happiness.
Heaven in your eyes.

As dull and gloomy the day was,
tomorrow will be better because,
along the waves of verde,
you are certain to be merry.

Deep sleep, dream lightly.
Into the emerald sea you surf,
and rest in deep happiness.
Heaven in your bright eyes.

[sesshomaru]

Cool nice and short poem,sango.

[Tainted]

A song. Another one that goes with the theme: "rawwr drink my pain away."


Kiss Goodbye
I’m in no condition to make any decisions
I’m fucking bleedin’
And there’s slim visions of inhibitions
40oz to freedom

I can’t believe all these things I need
To keep on livin’
But I’m still alive though these things I try
May do killin’

And I—I can’t—I won’t coincide
I will but I won’t ever die
I’m drunk—dyin’—dyin’—but it’s alright
Cause the end’ll never come for this night

I can’t conceive why I am bereaved
Stripped and broken
But still some time I step over the line
Drunk and tokin’

And why party if it’s not hardy
I think I’m wrong
Erase away all my hopes and pains
Pass the bong

And I—I can’t—I won’t coincide
I will but I won’t ever die
I’m drunk—dyin’—dyin’—but it’s alright
Cause the end’ll never come for this night

Can everybody see what’s become of me?
I can’t hide
I still believe that these things I need
Only deprive

They take away all my hurt and pain
But not for long
Cause in the end they return again
Twice as strong

And I—I can’t—I won’t coincide
I will but I won’t ever die
I’m drunk—dyin’—dyin’—but it’s alright
Cause the end’ll never come for this night

And I—I can’t—I won’t coincide
These things that live inside will never die
I’m drunk—dyin’—dyin’—it’s not alright
Kiss me goodbye—kiss goodbye to this night

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Lezta]

Oo;; Lezta in the... the fanfic forums?

Been awhile. Here is something I wrote a little while ago I'd like to share just... because. It's a poem! Not an amazing one either... most of my poetry was lost in a hdd crash. :(


Nameless

It is funny, I think, how the pain from so long ago,
Is soothing. Time softens things, turns them into
Blankets you can wrap around you. A face, long forgotten,
Matched not even by a name can bring comfort upon its appearance
That you’d not think existed.

We talk of memories and I cannot honestly say I remember you but,
Still, I find myself drawn, strangely, to your words.
You speak of truth and I cannot find any, yet, I trust you.
I talk of the present. I ask what you’re doing now and you
Reply and I’m interested, really I am, and I want to know more.

I think, once, I told you of feelings best forgotten.
I think you have forgotten and I dare not bring them back up,
Lest we shatter this blanket we cover ourselves with and turn it to glass.
You’re too innocent to be cut by me, face without a name,
That remembers me so well.

[PancaKe]

Verse
(How long in line must I wait)
Theres not enough beds to fit you and I,
so when we both die, together, as one,
only one of us may survive the fall.
And that wont happen. Not at the same time.
(These grains of sand disintergrate)

bridge
It wont happen to both of us, here, now,
because my pain will slit your throat, before
you have the chance to slit my own.

chorus
The cardiac shards are sharper than they seem.
This suffering is nothing but my dream.
My cardiac shards falling to the ground.
Knees to the chin, eyes shut, trying to block
out the sound of your painful screams.
Linger in the air, as you bleed.

[to be completed...*runz*]

[Chris Watarimono]

Haw, here's another poetry I wrote up for my school assignment that I decided to showcase. I'm such a whore. XD


Shakespearonomics

Thou Evil Eyed, Dogmatic, Canker-Blossom you may be!
And I wish that you agree, my dear friend next to me!
But, what’s this? Only you would let me know, if the meaning was clear of my writing?
A Sci-Fi novel, perhaps, maybe that’s it, that could be a relative of my tidings?
Yeah, you know, on the Shakespeare festival your presence was there on that Friday
Yet you also think my writing is trying too hard, are you not you say?
Many mundanes know not of my talking,
Or be able to talk to me not because they say I am speaking of what they know not
Like something they are in a state of deprivation
While I may be crazy, yes, I am said that I am of the one with coolness

Even if I know of the Evil Eyed, Dogmatic, Canker-Blossoms that may be

My biggest fear is that no one will understand what I just wrote. Or that my writing touches hearts and souls none at all. =b

-Chris R.

[dratinihaunter13]

That pendant you constantly mention
tells less of your penchant for spelling than telling
then maybe your golden and round little baby
gets rabies and rips at the smallest of threats.
At best.
That's it. Slowly and lower and ten.
Deep breath and exhale, inhale one.
Ten one sit working? Quit jerking
Twitch itch, and whoops look at you
All golden and round.
little bitch

[Tainted]

An acoustic song I wrote. Sounds nice.


Schadenfreude
I’m fuckin’ drunk, I’m sober as hell
I’m standin’ up tall, I’m crawlin’, I fell
It’s a beautiful day, it’s pitch black outside
Happiness surrounds me, I remember I cried

It’s the breath of life, but I’m so dead
I’m thinkin’ about, but there’s no thoughts in my head
I’m nourished with taste, I’m so thirsty
I’m drinkin’ a brew, the bottle’s empty

Misery
I cut your wounds and then sew them shut
I love how you depend me to fuck
Misery
I cut you open, I sew your decay
I cause the pain, then I take it away
Misery

I’m dying within, I’m smiling today
The skies are perfection, they’re cloudy and gray
I’m passive and preppy, I’m aggressive tonight
I’m looking to party, I’m looking to fight

The days they go by, the moments, they steer
Every picture is blurry, every image is clear
You’re pretty and movin’, you’re ugly and still
We can pull back the covers, then maybe we’ll

Misery
I cut your wounds and then sew them shut
I love how you depend me to fuck
Misery
I cut you open, I sew your decay
I cause the pain, then I take it away
Misery
I take the pleasure in cutting you up
I love the torture, and then how we fuck
Misery
I cut you open, I sew your decay
I cause the pain, then I take it away
To you I am God, but I’m tainted within
The ugliest of angels injected with sin
Misery

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Just a fragmented picture
Devoted to a shattered man
A man who's mission was to live
Who died when the shit hit the fan

He was a kind man, a gentle man
A creature of fucking genocide
One of the first colonial settlers
Enjoying the climates warm side

The first settlers love to fight
They thought they were right
They had the will, the will to kill
Plenty of native blood to spill

And still these people sit in honour
In the halls of the holy father
Use your religion to cover racism
Claim that your all in a way.. brother

[mistysakura]

Eh, figured that people post their poems in order for people to actually say something about them. So this will be a long list of comments for all the poems on this page.

Kiss Goodbye: I can't really relate with the ideas (I don't drink myself), but the rhythm to the poem was really nice and strong. And the style suits the content nicely.

Nameless: Beautiful, especially the third stanza. The metaphors really show the fragility of the relationship. it seems to be bordering between emotional prose and poetry, but that's a point of comment; I believe that poetry is in the eye of the beholder *coughclichecough*, and that no one can say "this is poetry" or "this isn't poetry". Anyway, good stuff.

PancaKe's untitled poem: Wow. The words have been carefully chosen to cut... or maybe that's just my strange obsession with angsty stuff. Anyway, a different side of you really comes out when you write poetry, and your writing seems to be influenced by the music you listen to. I think. Anyway, hope you continue the poem. The fragment in your sig is very powerful, I thought they were actual song lyrics from somewhere at first.

Shakespearonimics: lol, that was an amusing read. You should try a sonnet or something next time. And I did understand most of it, no worries, heh.

dh's untitled poem: I hate to say this, but I don't quite get it, so no comment.

Schadenfreude (what does that mean?): Same comment as aboe regarding the rhythm, and strong contrast/oxymorons used well. Although I don't seem to quite get their symbolic purpose (assuming the speaker isn't drunk, which is the only thing I can think of at the moment).

Leon-IH's untitled poem: Very strong message I do agree that religion isn't an excuse for genocide. But I thought the rhyming was a bit strained, like sometimes it seemed words were used jsut to make things rhyme. Or maybe that's jsut nitpicking or me seeing things where they don't exist. Meh.

Okay, now that I'm done with that, now onto my own poem, the only thing I've written this whole year. Was written as a prospective song, only no melody yet. So enjoy (oh yeah, highly influenced by haikus, random angsty, twisted minds and whatnot.) (Stuff in grey is whispered background stuff that won't actually be sung.)


Song of a Twisted Angel

Close your eyes, my child
May you never shed a tear
more than you need to

Threatening devils
The epitome of darkness
Cannot touch your smile

The evils of hell
Won't affect an innocent child...
Who's already dead

Am I a saviour or a killer?

Please forgive me, girl
Your mother, your murderer
I did it all for you...
to save you from evil
Turned your face to heaven
Away from the burning flames
Forever reflected in my eyes...

I'm crying form shame
My last memory of you
Frightened beyond words

Hazel eyes of mine
World of triggers reflected...
Hair smeared with our blood

It had to happen
Flames were lapping at your feet
But your lifeless gaze...

Am I a saviour or a killer?

Please forgive me, girl
Your mother, your murderer
I did it all for you
To save you from evil
Turned your face to heaven
Away from the burning flames
Forever reflected in my eyes...

Confusion
Strangling my conscience
Blind emotion
Flooding my soul...

Fallen angel, lost her wings
Blown towards eternal damnation
Better to die than to be burnt alive

But oh, my daughter, how I love you...

Please forgive me, girl
Your mother, your murderer
I don't know what I can do
No redemption for such evil
The past can't be undone
But as you watch me burn in flames
You might just realize...

Perhaps you might understand

[Tainted]

Schadenfreude (what does that mean?): Same comment as aboe regarding the rhythm, and strong contrast/oxymorons used well. Although I don't seem to quite get their symbolic purpose (assuming the speaker isn't drunk, which is the only thing I can think of at the moment).

scha·den·freu·de ( P ) Pronunciation Key (shädn-froid)
n.
Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.

So, the point of the song is the chorus details hurting someone, and then "un-hurting" them, or making them better. This way you're hurting them, but they build a dependency because you're always there to heal the wounds you cut yourself.

The rest of the song has contradicting lyrics because the writer (myself) is displaying extreme emotion in a sense that he doesn't know what's the right thing. This whole hurting people, and such and such has skewed his perceptions and mental capabilities to the point where he can no longer differentiate what time of day it is, if he's happy, etc.

That's the best I could do. I'm hungover.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Behold death, he loves us
Follow me and you will know
Why I'm not afraid of death
It's just a natural process
When you have nothing left

Death is everyone's closest friend
He's gunna get us in the end
Ain't nothing that'll save our souls
But there's no traces of hell coals

Nothing is my partner in the world
My earthly house of pure delight
No it's not a house of ill repute
It's just the end of wrong and right

Just another soul fake god's lost
Didn't care about the potential cost
I'm anti-flat earth society dear
And thier complex of guilt and fear

[Greyfox]

Here we go... just thought I'd get another one up for you all to muse over. Please be gentle...

-Grey


bound
you cannot see me

but you know i'm there

i cannot help you

it's just not fair

innocence
still evident in your eyes
but ignorance
even through many tries
unpossible sacrifice
you'd give it all away
even for nothing
forgiveness will fade
i hate you for leaving
without goodbye
but i am chained
to your lie
unfathomable
inexorable compromise
despite you and i's perfections
you just tossed me aside
jaded thoughts
i want to see your tears
because of all i lost over you
i want to see your fears
our light has faded
we can never be found
but in all this we are still
bound

[Leon-IH]

Why do I want to live so much
What's my reason to survive
Give me a reason, sell me a reason
Don't let me die without drive

I don't know why I'm here
Not sure if I want to stay
Sell me a reason not to cry
When I hate the game we play

Throw me in a pit of bodies
I'm just as dead as they are
But I've got right to live still
My mind is my bodies scar

Why do I live for tomorrow
Do I have some kind of destiation
Destiny is a tragic farce
When you witness the devestation

[PancaKe]

I <3 that poem, Leon. I dont know, i love the line "sell me a reason". For some reason it just stands out at me and goes "phwoar!" It really touches my heart and makes me stop and think. Which is great :) Good emotion stirring poetry.

[Leon-IH]

Wow Pancake, glad you liked it - this poem is a little darker: it's my way of saying I've got no sympathy for people who commit suicide because they find the world too hard.


Whipping boy won't die
Shades his eyes as they cry
He doesn't want to be
Why he's still alive to see

Let him curl up and die
Breed us a stronger man
Allow the weak to perish
Avoid them if you can

There's no point in saving
Those with no reason to live
We've got death for them
It's the best we can give

Suicide, at his funeral we cry
All he wanted to know
Was that we'd understand
But we're crying for his choice.

[Tainted]

Die a Little
Why can’t you see?
All this pain you’ve inflicted me?
I cannot breathe,
I’m just another walking disease

She loves me, she loves me not
I’m torn apart by will forgot
I’m born again, cause I feel alive
How many lies can you hold in your eyes?

I can’t go on much longer, I choke
She must’ve been much strong, I hope
She was the one for me, but I try
She was the one I see, she cries

She cries and I die a little

She loves me, she loves me not
I’m torn apart by will forgot
I’m born again, cause I feel alive
How many lies can you fit in your eyes?

What a surprise, you love me?
You lied
All these times, you mean
You cried

She cries and I die a little

She cries and I die a little

She loves me, she loves me not
I’m torn apart by will forgot
I’m born again, cause I feel alive
How many lies can you jam in your eyes?

How many lies can I cry a little?
How many cries can I die a little?
How many dies can I lie a little?
Lying and crying and dying…

… but all for you, my baby…

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Tainted]

Now On Sale: Love (Half Price)
I hate a lot of things, I hate a lot of people
I hate you
The way you close your eyes as I become paralyzed
It’s true

You care for nothing but yourself and nothing else
I hate to say
But I hate a lot of things, but you’re the worst thing
That I hate today

I hate a lot of things: I hate to love, I hate to think
I hate these words I speak: Is it love and is it peace
I hate the phrases true: From Hallmark, baby, I love you
I hate the fucking game: The love today is all the same

I hate the thought of God, the thought of the universe
And everything outside
These thoughts circle my head, where will I be when I’m dead
When I close my eyes

And maybe when you blink, the world shuts off cause you can’t think
You do derive
The entire world is your own imagination, you’re dreaming
Cause you died

I hate a lot of things: I hate to love, I hate to think
I hate these words I speak: Is it love and is it peace
I hate the phrases true: From Hallmark, baby, I love you
I hate the fucking game: The love today is all the same

I hate that you’re a slut, although I can’t say much
Cause I still go inside
I stay around for that, the simple sex turns my heart black
But please don’t cry

Cause I can’t stand you when you’re down, and I’m around
It’s fucking dumb
I hate that shit, I hate to think, but I love to drink
Until I’m numb

I hate a lot of things: I hate to love, I hate to think
I hate these words I speak: Is it love and is it peace
I hate the phrases true: From Hallmark, baby, I love you
I hate the fucking game: The love today is all the same

Just about how the whole "love" thing pisses me off and how "love" is a commercialized attempt at sales when you feel the need to buy your significant other a gift those several times of the year.

Love isn't derived of material possessions.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Master of Paradox]

My Guest

My guest arrived just yesterday
Now he sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.
He's been there for quite some time.

Perhaps I have offended him?
I would not do so purposefully.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.
I attempt an apology
And my guest ignores me.
I will not try that again.

My guest sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.

I speak of the classics
Trying to rouse his attention.
He does not stir.
Perhaps they do not interest him.
Talking of the theater
Fares just as badly.

It saddens me.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

My guest sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.
He's been there for quite some time.

Is my guest comfortable?
That chair is hardened wood.
And he wears his tie so tightly.
My servant moves to loosen it
And my guest slumps forward.

It makes me smile slightly.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

My guest sits there
And doesn't move or say a word
In the chair across from me,
In the chair beside the door.
He's been there for quite some time.

I ask how long he will stay.
He doesn't give a reply
And I am not surprised.
Tomorrow, I tell him,
He and I will tour the gardens.
My other guests enjoyed it so.
They have yet to leave them.

I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

[Captain Pringle]

Well, I'm not much of a poet, but here's a little cheesy pop/rock love song I wrote last year that became sort of a local hit in my dorm for about a week, lol. Most of the appeal lies in the melody, not the lyrics, but I thought I'd throw this up for fun. ^.^


~ Cerulean Dawn ~

Sun peaks over the hilltops through leaves of red and orange
And shines into her eyes like a bright morning sunrise
What to do with these feelings
He doesn't know anymore
It's no surprise that under these blue skies
He's falling in love... again

Against castle walls of flagstone and ivy
They sit together before the dawn
Staring out at the sun
And a sky of possibilities
They both believe it now
They're falling in love

And the sunrise captures every moment
Under skies of red she rests her head
And everything's new
And he finds her after a thousand shades of starlight
Have passed away under the rising morning sun
Sitting there with her, he knows that she's the one...

Sun rises over the ocean against a sea of blue
The crashing waves sparkle sunlight up on you
You're beautiful
And with every passing moment
That I look into your eyes
I know we're fallin in love

And the sunrise captures every moment
Under skies of red you rest your head
And everything's new
And I'll find you after a thousand shades of starlight
Have passed away under the rising morning sun
Sitting here with you, I know that you're the one...

...for me
And you hold my hand
As we walk on the sand
The night fades away
But we've still got today
Moments pass and float off into the sky
You look at me and you hold on tight
We will soar on the wings of the dawn, baby
And everything will be alright, yeah...

And the sunrise captures every moment
Under skies of red you rest your head
And everything's new
And I'll find you after a thousand shades of starlight
Have passed away under the rising morning sun
Sitting here with you, I know that you're the one.

[UmbreonCurse]

With Dapper-Dipped Ink

Hey...

Do you remember that song we heard?
It was a pretty long time ago…
But it was soft, and sweet and powerful
And if you turned it up loud enough, in your best friend’s presence
You could feel the lyrics twist around your essence
Hug it tight until your breath became short
And we drank the sonnet deep
We drank, and drank and drank until we could drink no more
And when the song was over, we‘d sing it then ourselves
And sing it in our sleep
Over
And over
And over

Until the whole neighborhood heard
Until our throats were desert dry with wear
Until we were starting to forget some of the words
Until our voices became so tired, the words were but a whisper in the air?
Even then we were singing

Because it was a beautiful song
It sang of love and wonder and fury and hate
It sang sadness and justice and demands for the truth
It sang of angels and demons and souls that danced ‘t’ward Hellgates
It screamed a melody unhampered and sung by our youth
It sang lilies and goblins and manticore dreams
It sang desperate streets and moonlight dances
It sang bitterly of lust and deception with rock n’ roll screams
And it sang of bloodlust in one’s soul and unjustified romances

It was a song
A special song
And one that everyone knew
I think my brother knew it
And your cousins knew it
Our teacher knew it
And the shopkeeper could sing it with ease
And the kid down the street, Jimmy knew it in seventeen languages
(Including Finnish and Japanese!)

It was a dancing, twisting melody
That could have been sung for ages,
That throbbing, potent rhapsody,
It must have been written by sages
Yes, it really was one hell of a song

They don’t write ‘em like that anymore
Sure, we have some imitations
Thrown out by syndication
But they feel flat and trite and dull
And nothing like that song of yore
‘Cause they decided that those kind of songs
Are the sort that nobody likes, are the sort that are vile
They said, “We know what’s best for you, we know what doesn’t belong”
So they opened the radios, they threw out the dial
And stuffed them all full with tripe

But I still remember that old melody
The one we all knew by heart
The song that breathed pure ecstasy
Even if it never climbed to the charts
It was simple
It was loud
It was glorious and honey sweet
It screamed with guitars and drums and banjos
A song surely written in dapper dipped ink
But one thing still eludes me…
How did it go?
Do you remember?
How did it go?!

[pp]

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[Max Blaze aka AT#2]

~~~~
Insomnia

Eyes close.

Breathing slows.

Sleep flirts from afar,
beckoning with
the crook of a finger.

Body turns fitfully,
covers crumple
into an accordion
of peaks and valleys.

Sleep scurries
behind a corner,
peers out hopefully.

Unbidden thoughts streak
across the dark canvas
of the mind's eye,
coiling and stretching,
slithering and writhing,

Banishing sleep
to the murky shadows
once and for all.
~~~~~~~~
Another Teenager Loser

I’m just another loser.
I’m lost among this pace.
Left with nothing and no one,
On this planet’s face.
Would it ever cross your mind,
If I was gone and cold?
Buried six feet under.
Would your grievance unfold?
I hate this hell I brace.
Liked by few,
Loved by none.
I feel like my problems would be solved,
With the use of a gun.
No one would miss me,
No one would care.
And you can’t say that you would,
Because you’ve never been there.
I’ll make this quick.
Make it easy.
And when you see my blood-soaked skull,
I hope it makes you queasy.
This is my only revenge.
The only way to make you feel pain,my pain.

~~~~~~~
Fear goes to Anger
Anger goes to Hate
Hate goes to Suffering
Suffering leads to Death

*F*ck this ****
I despise this life
Love is ****
Anger is what I like
Hate is what I love

When taken away from your
Family and home
your life
Can become a living hell.
But there cannot be
Darkness without
Some light.

There is no beginning or end.
Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift.

*Love can be good.
Love can be evil.
Love can be blind.
What else love could be?
~~~~~~~~



Thank u for reading them and sharing your thoughts

[sesshomaru]

Why can't you get away from me,

What have I ever done to you,

If only I could see,

Without you blocking me,

From the worlds true light,

Where there is not a fight,

Oh why can't you let me go,

Why do you always tell me no,

What have I ever done wrong,

And as I sing this song,

I wonder what is truly behind the veil,

What if I fail,

On my journey to light,

Will I see the hideous sight,

Oh it terrifys me so,

Nowhere to go,

I am trapped in my own mind,

As I am in each kind,

Reality and fantasy,

But what if I succeed,

What will I do then for I still will be filled with greed,

Oh why can't you just let me go,

Why do you always tell me no,

If only I could see,

Without you blocking me...

[dratinihaunter13]

one i've been working on, can't think of a satisfactory title =(

If I sit still out a place long enough I hear more.
Bugs chirp from both sides of me.
I can hear the machinery in the background, earth movers.
My eyes dart to the gravel.
Sometimes it's a gerbil, sometimes a paper bag.
If I sit still long enough I can start to put names with colors.
I merely liked and disliked once.

[Leon-IH]

Just something I invented after reading some articles about society going downhill

..And we all fall down
So I guess we're fucked again
Some lost others condemned
Lock me in with my PHD
Society is falling to misery

The minutes seem so long
So long since we went wrong
Fuck you and your degree
I live to kill this society

I'm the crusader of reality
Knocking down your idealogy
It's not my fault your alive
But you living gives me drive

Can't sell me a reason
But you accuse me of treason
I'm here to rape your ideals
Because the darkness appeals

We're only going to die
Time for lust and time to lie
Today is tomorrow's yesterday
And today is when we betray

But when we all fade away
Into creatures of yesterday
When all who know us die
Nobody will laugh or cry.

[PancaKe]

Making Yourself at Home

Your words were just
what I did not want to hear.
As we drive home,
I feel stupid for my tears

I swear, I'll be okay
Just give it time to settle in,
once it makes itself at home.
In the mean time, I'll be fine,
but pretending makes it worse

Here's how I feel,
so don't tell me I can't be
fighting currents,
just to keep my head above.

I swear, I'll be okay.
Just give it time to settle in,
once it makes itself at home.
In the mean time, I'll be fine...
I'll be fine..

I heard your sweet voice whisper
Your teeth pierced my ears
As we drove though this town
It was all so familiar

I've must have been here before
You've pretended before
I heard your sweet voice whisper
It was all so familiar

[Deathman]

Mt. Irrelevance (Lyrics)

(Verse 1)

Burning in the sun.
We never stop
For when we slow,
Reaped are our souls.
No matter how hard we try,
We walk, or we die.

(Verse 2)

Playing, having fun;
Memories past,
For now we run,
To avoid the inevitable.
To dodge the death,
On Mt. Irrelevance.

(Verse 3)

Taking it in stride.
Encouraging words,
Were all lies.
We walk a path,
A road to stay alive,
Abandoned on our line.

Abandoned by our time.
Abandoned on our line.(x2)

[Leon-IH]

Where have my wings gone?
I don't know what you did
But it's torn me up inside
I've got all these feelings
That I'd rather hide

I have these daydreams
Why can't they just die
These thoughts of happy ends
That make me almost cry

I've got to get the answer
But I don't want it to be true
Because I know what it is
And I don't know what to do

If it was up to me I'd die
I can see the future so I know why
I'm living this life as a lie
Because without my wings I never fly

[Tainted]

lol Angst

And sometimes I wonder why
I’m so fucked up on the inside
So I write some useless rhymes
And pretend I was always too strong to cry

Eyes shut, head hung with sorrow
Hoping that maybe there’ll be no tomorrow but
Maybe baby it’ll all work out for us
Maybe you’ll set me free

Oh why—I don’t know what you’re doing
Oh why—I don’t know where we’re going
Oh why—how did shit get so fucked up
Maybe baby we were better off in the past

You say one thing—but mean another
I can’t read you, but why should I bother?
I know you’re worth it—you’re worth the fucking world
And I’d do fucking anything just to please you, little girl

So now I’m fucking screaming, pulling off my skin
I don’t know what this meant to you—but I fell too far in
Everything is nothing now cause you were everything to me
And nothing can’t be something cause you were everything I need

Oh why—I don’t know what you’re doing
Oh why—I don’t know where we’re going
Oh why—how did shit get so fucked up
Maybe baby we were better off in the past

So I close my eyes, and fantasize
Of times when things were everything and being perfect was worth it all
So I grin and try, to never die
Cause you make me feel like living, girl and living makes me think of you

Oh why—I don’t know what you’re doing
Oh why—I don’t know where we’re going
Oh why—how did shit get so fucked up
Maybe baby we were better off in the past
Maybe baby we weren’t ever made to last

A song.

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Leon-IH]

Self-Help
I can't expect help from you
And I don't want to help me
This is the way I choose to be
A neverending circle of misery

I don't want to be your friend
Your just someone I don't know
All concerned I don't want to
Sorry if I say it in my show

My life's just a play for you
I'm an actor who's lost on stage
I wake up every morning
And every night I rage...

...Rage myself to sleep

[Razola]

[center]UntitledI think you should call it "lol Angst".

[dratinihaunter13]

"So so"

So so, So so
Words after words blow by
As rain drops on a car coasting
While I face the glass gazing
Words low or lower or wonderful
Water gliding sideways
So so still, when will I grow and blow away
Welcome words low to golden
Would I be too old then
Hurry or bury, who's there
who's there
sh no

[Leon-IH]

Screwing yourself
I fucked myself over again
I've learnt to do this very well
I could be called an expert
In making my own life hell

I like to feel all sorts of pain
It's the only thing real to me
Without pain theres no life
And nothing to shade reality

I'm don't know why you run
You'll be feeling pain anyway
And I'll be fucking myself over
Every day there's debt to pay

Pain chases, follows you again
He'll catch up to you in the end
Can't deny him, can't stop him
He's going to be your only friend



A little less alive
Wake up each day and piss it away
It's only 24 hours of your life gone
Only died a little more yesterday

I'm just throwing away a little more
Just a little that I didn't need at all
Death's going to come for my life
On that day my body shall fall

Ain't no heaven, ain't no hell
Not when your dying each day
I have this life I want to sell

I can't find a buyer for my life
It's like a share dropping in value
Because each morning I'm dying
Selling chips that were once blue

Every day I get up
Each morning I wake
Look into the mirror
See the face of a mistake

[Tainted]

ze·nith
n.
1) The point on the celestial sphere that is directly above the observer.
2) The upper region of the sky.
3) The highest point above the observer's horizon attained by a celestial body.
4) The point of culmination; the peak: the zenith of her career.


Zenith
Hello masturbation, my dearest friend
I haven’t seen you in a while
But I’d give up women, to see the end
Of it all beside your smile

I like smoking chronic, and I’m sure, honey
You love the green stuff too
Even if you don’t jump on it, I’ll call you snuggle-bunny
And schmookypoo

Zenith, can you hear me? Cause I can see
You turn your back away
Are you coming near me? Cause I can see
You do a double-take
Could you ever love me? Or are you too fucking
Perfect for anyone
Will you ever need me? When you’re all alone
And looking for some fun

I know that you’re her best friend, but sometimes
You just can’t lie to fate
I know I said I loved her, but I lied so I
Could get closer to your face

I know we’re miles apart, but I think
We could overcome it all
And it’s straight from the heart, cause baby
I’d let you be my downfall

Zenith, can you see me? Cause I’m waving
My arms as I see you turn away
Do you ever think of me? Cause I know I think
Of what could be all day
Could you ever love me? Or are you too fucking
Perfect for anyone
Will you ever need me? When you’re all alone
And looking for some fun

Zenith, can you love me? Cause I’m giving
You all the loving that I got
Zenith, can you light me? Cause the wind’s
Blown out the cherry on my pot
Zenith, can you see me? Cause when I look
You’re the center of my sky
Zenith, will you need me? When you’re all alone
And wishing you would die

Yeah, I got my problems, but I think that
Only makes things interesting
Maybe you could solve them, you could
Be my fucking everything

Baby, you’re my zenith, the only thing
I see when I close my eyes
I wish that we were in it, cause fantasies
Only make you want to cry

Maybe I can’t have it, but that doesn’t
Really change anything
Cause baby you were worth it, you
Were worth it, you were worth it

Oh baby, you’re all I see when I look into the sky
And baby you’re all I need when I think about my life
And baby, you could think, but I’d never change my mind
You’re just the kind of girl, just the kind of girl
I fantasize

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Tainted]

Black
And there’s pieces of your hair, they’re everywhere
All they do is remind me of you
And there’s fragment’s of your mind, they’re held inside
And I still won’t know what I lose

Take your picture off my wall cause after all
It won’t matter who I still love
And maybe tonight I’ll make it right cause this
Moonshine will only get me drunk

When I’m lighting up a smoke, with every toke
I’m only reminded of you
I try to drink it all away, every memory and pain
Only comes back more true
Every girl is nothing more than a fucking whore
When compared to what I try to choke back
And still sometimes I’m fucking blind and look inside them
And see nothing more than black

All that’s good, it falls away, what’s here to stay
Is only what you’ve not yet lost
At the end of the day, you weigh your pay and wonder maybe
If it was worth what it cost

I try to lie and hold inside what makes me cry
It’s nothing that I ever saw
I say that you weren’t much, but now you’re lost, I’m out of touch
You were nothing that I ever saw

When I’m lighting up a smoke, with every toke
I’m only reminded of you
I try to drink it all away, every memory and pain
Only comes back more true
Every girl is nothing more than a fucking whore
When compared to what I try to choke back
And still sometimes I’m fucking blind and look inside them
And see nothing more than black
I see nothing more than black

Oh, black is the color of everything
Black is painted on my skin and clothes
Black is the way that we die every day
Black is what God only knows

I wear black cause my clothes are sinners
I wear black cause it’s the sun and the sand
I wear black cause I might be a murderer
I wear black cause it’s all that I am

When I’m lighting up a smoke, with every toke
I’m only reminded of you
I try to drink it all away, every memory and pain
Only comes back more true
Every girl is nothing more than a fucking whore
When compared to what I try to choke back
And still sometimes I’m fucking blind and look inside them
And see nothing more than black
Oh, I see nothing more than black

Black is the sun, and the sky, and your eyes
And the way that we all live and die
Black is your lips and your tits and the shit
That tells you the way to get high

I wear black cause my clothes are the death of spring
I wear black cause if not, I’ll be damned
I wear black cause you might’ve been everything
I wear black cause it’s all that I am

I wear black cause it’s all that I am

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[wickedwiccaboi]

I am new at this but i wrote this a couple of days ago.
Burning
Burning passion rages on
Like a bon fire it always roars
Warding away all that I love
Finding out who I am inside
Means little as I lay in a pool
This pool is red, and always growing
From the effervescent cuts of pain that’s deep
If I cried you’d never see it because the pain is down so low
So deep inside I never knew
Where it lead to while it grew
In constant fear and pain I trust
All that lies in my eyes full of lust
If ever you pass me on the street
You’ll see the skin falling to my feet
This fire’s burning at my soul
Ripping its way through a monstrous whole
It runs rapid through the streets
That filled my soul with something cold
Until you blessed it with your love
So deep inside I never knew
Where it lead to while it grew
In constant hate and rage I trust
All that lies in my eyes full of lust
You turned away when I said hello
I never thought you’d be like this
So cold and distant in pain you sought
To find the one that burnt your heart
But why you take it out on me
Where only our eyes can see
I know you feel the way I do
But you just don’t want to admit
So deep inside but now I know
Where it leads to as it grows
For I can no longer trust
My burning eyes so full of lust

[Tainted]

Just A Drinking Song
Oh, I’ve been drunk, drunk, drunk for two years or more
The bottle’s empty, broken and I’m sleeping on the floor
And it hurts, hurts, hurts cause my baby is a whore
Left me for another man cause I love drinking more

And I smoked, smoked, smoked the fucking day away
My eyes bloodshot and nothing but laughing in my brain
And it hurts, hurts, hurts cause I’m all out of grain
I’d call my dealer up but he’d think I were insane

And I shoot, shoot, shoot the fucking night goes by
I shoot so much I swear I might just crumple up and die
And it hurts, hurts, hurts cause I told her all the lies
And now she’s gone, I’m here alone with nothing but to cry

Ah, Johnny’s coming over, he’s bringing lots of beer
Mary Jane we’ll be smoking for sure without a fear
And memories of miseries will surely fade away
But they’ll come back to haunt us when we sober up some day

Me baby left me empty, no money to my name
My kids might as well be dead, they think their Pa is lame
I’ve got no job to work, I lost it long ago
I’ve just got Johnny Walker and a reddened drinker’s nose

Drinking’s destroyed everything, it’s made it all the worse
I’m near-death, starving and ordering my hearse
Concerning my fragilities, my strengths must be a myth
For I’ve only got alcohol and friends to drink it with

But when the day is dead and the night has gone too fast
Drinking’ll be better than the hell that I lived past
For my buddies are everything, they’re everything to me
So let’s throw back some liquor, boys, and sing our miseries

Ah, Johnny’s coming over, he’s bringing lots of beer
Mary Jane we’ll be smoking for sure without a fear
And memories of miseries will surely fade away
But they’ll come back to haunt us when we sober up some day

I think of what I once had, I’ve laid it all to waste
But with me lover alcohol, it’ll be okay
Memories of miseries will surely fade away
But they’ll come back to haunt us when we sober up some day

- - -

Adieu,
Zak Hunter

[Phoenixsong]

Howdy-hey, all. Well, I've got about a bajillion ideas for fanfics and I can't focus on any one of them or get any of them half-way started or anything like that. However, I am still in the mood to post something here, so I've got this poem I did for English class about a week ago. We're studying the poets of the Romantic period, and this is supposed to emulate the style of... the style of... I forget which one. They were all a bunch of fairly depressed guys who had visions and died young anyway, it's hard to tell them apart.

Now, this here poem has no rhyme scheme and no organized meter, so if you're the type that finds this aesthetically displeasing then you might want to hightail it out of here... I just... kind of wrote it. See below the poem for more.



Something out of Nothing

Just a few words on a sheet of paper-
At least, there are supposed to be.

Sitting and staring at empty blue lines
Or a blank white computer screen
A thoroughly obnoxious plane of absolutely
Nothing.

Dear God, how frustrating this is!
The words just aren't coming out.
The only sounds are gnashing teeth
And pounding fists, a banging head-
Not altogether helpful when you need to concentrate.

Why is it so always so freaking difficult
To get your thoughts on paper?
To press a few keys on the keyboard
And make a cohesive sentence or two?
To write something beautiful that resonates with people,
That means something to someone, something to me.

Just a single sentence, a single paragraph
That just might help someone relate to me-
Bring a friend a little closer,
Make a stranger not so strange-
Something out of my heart, my experience
That I can share with some
And help others start to explore...

It's such a noble plan, such a lovely undertaking...
So why is it so hard?!... hey...

Just a few words on a sheet of paper-
They've finally appeared, and I like what I see.


So yeah, there she is. I couldn't come up with an idea for a poem for this assignment, and then I figured: Hey, why not write about my writer's block? Who knows, maybe looking at this again will inspire me to just pick a fanfic and write the dang thing already.

Comments? Critiques? Any human conversation or companionship at all?

[Kratos Aurion]

Hrm. Not bad, Phoenix, not bad at all. Of course, I've seen your work and this isn't your best, but I still like it. Certainly a clever idea, though... reminds me of the time in fourth grade I put off writing my story until like the morning before, and I wrote it about the dream I'd had the night before, ending it with "And then today, October 30, I uh... I woke up." ...okay, so all you other people didn't need to know that, but I am currently in the mood to ramble and so you'd all better deal with it.

I don't care too much for the last lines of some of the stanzas, like that one about needing to concentrate... would it have been possible to re-write the line so that it was more about the noise specifically being distracting, and then maybe made it fit the meter a little better? I know you said it's not supposed to have a meter, but that line just seems jarring to me; it looks too long compared to the rest.

All in all, though, very nice. Are you gonna post those other ones you did for class that you told me about?

[Phoenixsong]

Thank you, Kratos, for actually deigning to reply to this even though you told me yesterday you wouldn't.

Yeah, I know this isn't my greatest, I was really just looking for something to post while I was stewing angrily and trying to think of which fic to work on first. Why don't you post one, like The Domino Detectives, Pokemon Trainers, God of War or Tales II: Seeds of War? Maybe seeing your stuff up here, after years of telling you that this place is where your fanwork needs to go, will help get my brain juices going...

And I remember that story. It was stupid. Why must you bring back a memory that serves no purpose other than to make my brain hurt again after seven years of trying to forget it? You have the most idiotic dreams, Kratos... thanks anyway for the reply though.

[Gavin Luper]

I'm no poet, so I can't give a lengthy critique or anything. It's a cool poem, pretty much reflects writer's block to a tee. Fortunately *knocks on wood* I don't have writer's block at the moment, but I certainly have in the past, so this is certainly something most writers can relate to in some way or other.

Verged on moving this to the Poetry Corner, but it is substantial enough - and individual enough - to stand in it's own thread. If any other mods have a prob, PM me.

Cheers!

[darktyranitar]

Writer's block... now having one... Funny, I just read somewhere, on a comic strip on how to cure writer block.

Quite good poem. Who would have thought to put the subject of writer's block as a poem? I ain't an expert on poem, but it's pretty good.

Now off to fix my writer's block then...

[Phoenixsong]

Ah, yeah, darn it. I forgot there was a Poetry Corner... whoopsie. Thankies for the replies, though.

[Tyler and Hobbes]

Death is the Finale
That’s what they all say
so don’t care what’s around you
Just be happy that we let you live another day

So drink your spirits down and laugh
As the cripple sings his tune
If Death is the finale
Let this goddamned show go on
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meh, back to life %.%

[Bulbasaur4]

[color=royalblue][font=tahoma]=+ A Taste of Sky += [font=tahoma]

Distant dreams melded into one abstract portrait of views.
If only I could but grasp one of those ideas, one of those saviors, one of those aspirations.
Perhaps then I could taste the ripe flavor of reality and feel the carress of sensibility.
But the eyes are closed and blind to the light, seeing nothing in darkness and darkness in nothing.
Divine harmonies floating upon a bath of intertwined fantasies.
If only I could remember the forgotten, remember the faint truths, remember the burdens.
Perhaps then I could sense the self and tremble to the cold of lonely absense.
But no breath will come for all is evaporated to the bleakness of winter.
Brilliant happiness expanding to burst the crimson worlds.
If only I could paint those colors, paint those dancers, paint those simplicities.
But the none are lost in the darkness to the unforgiven lands




A Little Girl[font=tahoma][size=2]

There is a little girl

She cries at night
There is no one to tuck her in
No one to place a soft, velvety blanket over her body
No one to sing her a lullaby of olde
No one to place a sweet kiss upon her forehead
There is no one and she is alone

There is a little girl

She screams at night
There is no one to feel her pain
No one to wrap their arms of protection around her
No one to whisper a comfort
No one to smile and make her forget
There is no one and she is bleeding

There is a little girl

She walks at night
There is no one to take her hand
No one to guide her along the darkened path
No one to give her a ride
No one to pick her up and carry her off
There is no one and she is lost

There is a little girl

She falls at night
There is no one to catch her body
No one to cuddle her with warmth
No one to arrive to rescue
No one to show her own wings
There is no one and she is dying

There is a little girl

She died at night
There was no one there
No one to offer a hug and a prayer
No one to save her from herself
No one to watch over her and understand
There was no one and she is gone

[dratinihaunter13]

I'll dive in with hired energy
That's what I've decided
Shock value aside
Call this what loss of pride did
Shyness curtained curtailed curt
One line after one line
And after that?
No one clapped
Long drive back
I won't but the songs fight back
The next day zaps by
While I dive in with hired energy

[mr_pikachu]

Just something I put together the other night. Kinda dark, kinda weird. Probably sucks, but oh well.



Closed Door


Are they near?

I hear them.

Are they coming?

Those are their footsteps.

Can they hear me?

They are louder now.

How close are they?

They have stopped.

Are they there?

I hear knocking.

Are they entering?

The knob is rattling.

Am I safe?

I hear a keychain.

Can I hide?

The door is unlocked.

Can I run?

They have entered.

Can I die?

[dratinihaunter13]

i'm digging the darkness ;)

this one isn't as dark

--
when the advice quiets
and the mobs and riots leave
me with an evening,
and even their echoes exit single file.
when truth shows up best
against a dark ceiling
and so do you.
when we fall asleep as fatalists
because that's the only way to.
we fall asleep to eventually,
but til then no one sees
our what ifs and could bes
against that private dark.
imagining again.
and we can be each other's lullabies
and we can hum through
our inexplicable smiles at dawn
but for how long before we're drawn enough
to want more and admit this.

when emotions come as a threat
prepare for regret

[Darkmaster Kagemusha]

Hourglass


With skin so pale
As to be translucent
As light shines on it and through it.
Fluted from top to middle
And from the bottom too,
The body curves gracefully.
But so fragile is she,
With a soul of sand,
She is surrounded by crutches,
Like the columns of a temple,
And she will stand beautifully
While time drifts by,
For not even time
Can cause glass to die.

[sesshomaru]

Poem Number One
Only one knows that all the lies are fake,

All the rest are olbivous to reality,

In their minds, a fantasy, they make,

None can truly see,

If only the truth were known by all,

Then all doubt will disappear,

And light will grow tall,

And it will be the end of all fear.

Poem Number Two
The fire of battle was in the air,
It truly wasn't fair,
Troops were being massacred before any could react,
Numbers were what they lacked,
Then the reinforments charged in,
And it seemed as the would win,
The tide of battle had turned once more,
The ground was no longer full of gore,
The invaders were pushed back,
And that was the end to the attack,
But yet the village was in ruins,
In all that was in the distance are sand dunes,
But the people's spirits were high,
As they rebuilt time seemed to fly,
The grand castle stood as before,
For this was a story great enough to be put in a folk lore,
The walls were built thicker,
But yet spirits would never flicker,
All worked harder than ever,
With mere armor of leather,
When they again were under attack by their enemy,
They realized the key,
To insure victory,
While in the sky the birds screeched "Kree!"
New tractics were put into action,
Performed under the blazing sun,
Once again the won,
For their foes indeed did run,
That was a day of glory,
With a long interesting story.

Poem Number Three
Stars falling though the sky,
No one knows why,
They burn up before your eyes,
The closest star dies,
Like all the rest,
To you it seems like a test,
Or a race between them all,
For you seem to hear their call,
Stars falling through the sky,
No one knows why,
You start to run,
But the stars have won,
You feel the ground quake beneath you,
Soon they will engulf you too,
Soon more are in the skies,
Dotting it like fireflies,
Stars falling through the sky,
No one knows why,
It is over in a flash of light,
That seems unbearable bright,
Now all is gone,
Just at the crack of dawn.

Poem Number Four
Fire will clash with ice,

But I hold the dice,

I hold all the strings,

I cause all the little stings,

That could turn the tide,

I choose which side,

Death is the price you pay,

Sometimes it's just better to stay,

And play it safe all the way through,

More talk and less 'do',

Unless you want to lose,

So pull out the booze,

And drown in your fantasy,

For I hold the key,

To ultimate victory,

Don't flee,

And hold your ground,

And don't make a sound,

For you'll win,

And save all of your kin.

Poem Number Five
There is only one,

Who is opposed by none,

Try to find the right path,

And escape evil's wrath,

The path of good is hard and perilous,

But there are many of which will plus,

Too become one of greatness,

It's all one giant game of chess,

One wrong move and you're dead,

You're the needle on the thread,

Weaving in and out,

It's enough to make a grown man pout,

But you hold it strong,

As you have all decade long,

Stay as you always have before,

To stop all the war,

And you'll succeed,

To stop the greed.

Poem Number Six
Bad things happen,
But don't be put down by all of the them,
Try to stay optimistic and joyous,
For even if others might call you a wuss,
Don't be tempted by another,
Even if he's your brother,
So follow your heart to the end,
Create your own trend,
Try to move on in life,
Pass through all the strife,
Or try to at least,
It is hardest when one is deceased,
But you must try,
And if you must, then cry,
And if you merely are overtaken by all the bad,
And are extremely sad,
Then try to fix the problems,
Clean up the crumbs,
And work out the kinks,
To connect the link,
And all will be well as it was before,
And you'll be ready for more.

Poem Number Seven
When things seem far away,

Make sure to never stray,

Never lose your way,

And never lose track of day,

Somtimes it seems hard to stay on the right path,

But if you don't then you'll face god's wrath,

Pain, Agony, and fear,

Down your cheek rolls a tear,

It was so near,

It took over a year,

But in the end it was in vain,

Although I suffered much pain.

Poem Number Eight
Love has no end,
Two single threads twine toghether,
Many things, love can mend,
For if you're in love, you're indeed sure,

It's grasp can hold a person against one another,
Seeing beauty in their other,
Can lead to one being a mother,
For one could be a brother,

Love has no end,
Two single threads twine toghether,
Many things, love can mend,
For if you're in love, you're indeed sure,

Some hate it,
They desipise all love,
But they know nothing of it's wit,
They're less than a mere dove.

Poem Number Nine
Plants are filled with grace,


As if it were a big race,


To see which flowers bloom first,


For they all look as if they are going to burst,


With happiness and joy,


In the water swims the koi,


While pelicans soar above,


And lions on the ground are in love,


Together the create a harmony,


Unmatched by any other thing we can see.

[Inferno_Dragon]

Although I haven't even touched any of my fanfics or updated them, I thought I would focus on another aspect of the fanfiction board. I saw this and thought I would see what you guys and gals thought of some of my past poems (and new poems, maybe.)

My Computer

I love my computer because it puts me at ease.
I don’t care if it is old or new because that doesn’t matter

Whether I am playing Final Fantasy 7 or 8
Or Midtown Madness 1 or 2

Whether I am creating a theme park on SimTheme Park
Or causing havoc on Sim City 4 Deluxe Edition

Whether if I am doing puzzles games
Or strategy games

Whether I am writing fan-fiction for my pleasure
Or I am writing up an assignment for school

Whether I am checking the internet for new games
Or laughing at a video someone directed to me to.

I love my computer because it puts me at ease.
And I don’t think I will never ever part with it.

Happiness

My Game Boy Advance SP
So light, so compact but so enjoyable

I can take it around anywhere
Play it anywhere, enjoy it anywhere.

It is kind of like the Game Boy Pocket
But this baby is a lot more stylish

Mine is Lime Green, the color of money and Envy
Mine is a special edition color that you can’t find anywhere else

When I finished with one of my classes, I head to “The Loft”
I sit down, pull it out and start to play.

Sure, there are arcade games around me I could play for hours
But none of them you can hold in the palm of your hand.

I can beat the last boss on Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories
I can collect the last picture for the scrapbook on Donkey Kong Country.

I can link up with other players and challenge them to a match.
No matter who wins, I will cherish that moment.

Sure, I could get a Nintendo DS and abandon my GBA SP.
But the Nintendo DS is so lunky that I’d rather stick with what I got.

(Note, that this was before I got my DS but I still do think that GBA SP is more compact that the DS is but you can't play DS Games on GBA SP.)

And more poem;

The Hungarian Horntail

Such a dangerous creature
You should stay away.
Its disposition shall surely clue you in
That you should stay away from this awful creature.

Why its pitch-black skin glorifies its existence
Its sharp and jagged fangs gleam in the sunlight.
Its claws covered in blood and flesh
And its wings stretched out to their fullest position

Even noble knights dare to stay away from it.
It fiery breath is surely devastating
Its flame can reach a tree 50 feet away.
Pity for the soul that stands its path.

But lucky, this creature is nothing but fiction.
So we do not have to worry at all.
But if it was real today,
This world would have a disaster on our hands.

But is the Hungarian Horntail really that terrible?
Since we know nothing about it, we are in the dark.
Maybe it is gentle, kind and lovable.
But we shall never know.

[mr_pikachu]

Sorry if I went a tad too far in Misc, sesshomaru. I took the joke and ran with it... maybe a little too far. I hope I didn't offend you or anything. :sweat2:

Since I was the one who said that this was the place for you to get reviews on your poems, I'll go ahead and give you some. ...Aw, heck, I'll comment on everyone's, just to be fair.


Martin: You know, you said it wasn't as dark... but it was; it was just rationally dark. ^_^ I loved the twisted, complex emotions. I had a little trouble interpreting it, but it seemed like you were talking a bit about humans being hypocritical, about not admitting that we want more than what we have... am I close? Maybe you could've made it more explicit... then again, that might have taken away from the mystique of it. Anyway, that was nice and shadowy. Coolness!


Darkmaster Kagemusha: Oh ho, nice one! Way to create that mental image and then shatter it. I love the way you used the description here; you even called the hourglass "she" a few times to increase the illusion. (Or maybe it was just me... for whatever reason, I thought it was a sculpture of a woman until I looked back after the last line.) If you did mean to surprise us with the real object of the poem, maybe you could keep "Hourglass" out of the title, and have it in the last line instead? That might keep the more deductive thinkers from seeing through the trick too soon. But if that wasn't your intent, then you may have used a great technique without trying!

Or maybe I'm just an idiot who's easily fooled. But either way, well done!


sesshomaru: I really liked the metaphors in your poems. The idea of "holding the strings" was particularly appealing, but some of your less explicit ones were good, too. Overall, the hopeful poems that had a somewhat darker feel were also nice. Maybe I'm just in a "dark" phase, but... yeah. That was nice.

It seemed like you were trying to write standard, rhyming poems. But if you're doing that, you should probably try to keep them in verse (or some standard syllabic pattern, like haiku). It's quite helpful to count the number of syllables in each line to try to make them even with a poem in verse. And don't be afraid to revise, too. If something doesn't sound strong, then you may need to change it; with rhyming poems, you may need to change earlier lines, too.

But I like your concepts; nice ideas here. I'd like to see more of this!


Inferno_Dragon: Ah, I see you've made some literal descriptions, here! The "My Computer" one was particularly interesting. Depending on how you look at it, it could be very straightforward, or it could be filled with sarcasm (as in, five years from now you'll be calling it a piece of trash, and the readers know it). Or, heck, it could be a statement about the problems with technology and how we constantly feel the irrational need to update. Multiple meanings... sweet!

The first two poems did feel a little like lists at times, almost like grocery lists. I don't know if that was you intent, but naming one game after another kind of gave it that sense. It's just something to consider if you haven't already.

I think you tried a good idea with "The Hungarian Horntail." Turning an assumption on its head can be quite good, althougn you may have given us a little bit too much reason to not believe the last lines. Maybe it's the cynic in me talking, but I don't think I could believe that such a beastly creature could be "kind and lovable," especially with the bloody claws. But maybe that's just me. It's a fun technique, nonetheless. I really like that ploy.


*gasps for air* Okay, reviewed everything since my poem. It's all in fairness, you know.



(Oh, my fingers! All the typing... The pain, the pain!)

[Bulbasaur4]

[b][font=bobcat]Divinity (http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/index.php?topic=43312.0)

[color=royalblue]Fic Nominations
Best Fic Overall
Best Fantasy Fic
Most Original Concept
Best Overall Setting

Fic Moments
Best Plot Twist (Brot'mau's death)
Most Emotional Moment (Brot'mau leaving Kiiah behind)
Best Chapter (Chapter 5 )

Characters
Best Romantic Relationship (Brot'mau & Kiiah)

Member Awards
Best Writer



[color=royalblue]
Chapter 5 (which has been nominated) is located upon the bottom of the page. My poem is also nominated for "Best Poem" and is located on page 14 of the Poetry Corner topic.

[dratinihaunter13]

first one of these in a while! here's to bringing it back

"Baby Let's Just Lie Together"

believe we could be better off
sweetheart, slip that sweater off
let's find a place for us to name and love

relax here and we'll run with this
and have a gasp, hands on your hips
let's make a list of everything we could of

release forget solace caress
erase regrets say yes - yes

[Mewtwo-D2]

This doesn't really have a title, but it's about how someone can be the center of the social whirl, yet no one really knows them and no one cares when they're gone.


Alas, poor Yorrick

I knew him, Horatio.

Yorrick, with the air that clung about him

kind of like

bong water and chocolate.

You got hungry just smelling him.

Yorrick, in the center of the room

Drunker than Bacchus

showing once again that the human skull can shatter glass

If you just put your head to it.

Yorrick in his boxers,

Pants forgotten in the rush

drooling onto his papers.

We used to laugh when they stuck

Yorrick, to think he would end up as a book end

Ironic, kind of.

It reminds me of a joke,

but I don’t think you’d get it.

Yorrick, telling that joke that always got a laugh

it really wasn’t funny. He said

Pussy though. And everyone would die.

So he’d say it again.

Yorrick, he had a bad start.

What kind of sick parent

Calls their kid Yorrick?

They could’ve named him Zeppo, would’ve been more dignified.

Yorrick, now he’s dead

And does anyone really care?

There’s more beer to go around

At parties now. No one complains.

Yorrick, I knew him Horatio

I lived in his room

Ate his food

Slept with his girlfriend, twice. He slept with mine so we were even.

I knew him, Horatio.

I have never met Yorrick.

[Shadow Wolf]

Hmm, a Poetry Corner...

The perfect place for this...

This is my first poem in English. I hope that I can get some advices to become better.


* Live- pronounced ("laiv"), not ("liv"), rhyming with hive ("haiv")
(Just in case :rolleyes:)



Sad Lone Wolf



I am just a lonely boy
that is feeling very sad
because I have lost all hopes
with a pretty love gone bad

I met a beautiful girl
in a friendly event live*
She was really nice to me
Like honey in a bee hive

Her eyes shined with new joy
At the time we became friends
I felt that I've found new love
In a friendship with no ends

What went wrong? I'm not so sure
Everything was going well
But when I told her my love
Our friendship became like hell.

With a "no", my heart broke down
I felt it burning with pain
My "friend" stole away my soul
And all left in me was rain

Revenge could have been a choice
But to get mad ain't my way
Besides, She is a good lad
Who cheers me up every day

What will happen?, I don't know
But I know one thing for sure
She will always have my heart
'Cause for me, she's kind and pure.

I will always love the girl
That to me was a great friend
Even if I'm like a wolf
Sad and lonely 'till the end.

[mistysakura]

-removed temporarily due to copyright issues (the work has been submitted for publishing)-

[dratinihaunter13]

high time for a new poem:

"Swimmer, Young and Drowned"

Submerge
Close your eyes and coo
Assume the fetal position
Emerge and leave the infant
She'll be fine
Drip wet and shiver
Shiver lips shake kick shout cold!
No. Towel off - towel on.

Land like my plane the next day.
Life again.
Live again!
Check the rent.
Check the locks.
Check. Check.
Remember it's Sunday, and it's colder,
So bundle up til comfortable.
Clutch and kiss that room temperature.

Break for the lake
Submerge
She's young and drowned, what did you think.

[Wolfsong]

You know that you've been listening to too much Christmas music when you create your own lyrics to a christmas song. This is the 12 days of christmas Calleigh style. Calleigh is a character on the show CSI:Miami and she is a ballistics expert and she has earned the nickname of Bullet Girl. I came up with this during my lunch break.


The 12 Days of Christmas Calleigh Style

By Amy Hall

On the first day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
A rifle scope.

On the second day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the third day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Eight 9mms,
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Nine striae matching,
Eight 9mms,
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Ten bullets firing,
Nine striae matching,
Eight 9mms,
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Eleven cartridge casings,
Ten bullets firing,
Nine striae matching,
Eight 9mms,
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
Calleigh sent to me
Twelve shotgun shells,
Eleven cartridge casings,
Ten bullets firing,
Nine striae matching,
Eight 9mms,
Seven clips of ammo,
Six bullet proof vests,
Five gun cleaning kits,
Four moving targets,
Three firing ranges,
Two sniper rifles,
And a rifle scope.

[Tyler and Hobbes]

This is probably the cheapest poem I've ever written, but here it is nyway:

Merry Christmas, Mr. President
And to your presidential dogs
Merry Christmas to your wife and kids
And to your presidential God
Merry Christmas to your chiefs of state
Who’ll provide the entertainment for the afternoon
As they sport and praise and quote the book
And force-feed you the truth

Merry Christmas, Mr. President
And may your enemies be destroyed,
Who try to stop you from putting Jesus Christ
In the home of every girl and boy,
Who burn the flag and marry gays,
May they rot in Hell
And may you never find the conscience
That a while ago you put up for sale

Merry Christmas, Mr. President
And to your speechwriter’s blue-inked pen
To ABC and NBC and CBS and Fox
Who’re just repeating what you’ve said
“Stay the course, show no remorse
Till every Arabs dead”
Are you still in that bright blue room, George?
We need a president

[dratinihaunter13]

My Holiday Trip (http://pokemasters.net/forums/showthread.php?t=15318)
nominated for Best Comedy Fic and Best Quote

and i'm also up for most likely to never complete my fic, makes sense. and also best writer. for more writing samples from me i'm in the poetry corner and Damon's Menace is floating around the back pages somewhere.

[dratinihaunter13]

My Guest

My guest arrived just yesterday
Now he sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.
He's been there for quite some time.

Perhaps I have offended him?
I would not do so purposefully.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.
I attempt an apology
And my guest ignores me.
I will not try that again.

My guest sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.

I speak of the classics
Trying to rouse his attention.
He does not stir.
Perhaps they do not interest him.
Talking of the theater
Fares just as badly.

It saddens me.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

My guest sits there
In the chair across from me
And doesn't say a word.
He's been there for quite some time.

Is my guest comfortable?
That chair is hardened wood.
And he wears his tie so tightly.
My servant moves to loosen it
And my guest slumps forward.

It makes me smile slightly.
I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

My guest sits there
And doesn't move or say a word
In the chair across from me,
In the chair beside the door.
He's been there for quite some time.

I ask how long he will stay.
He doesn't give a reply
And I am not surprised.
Tomorrow, I tell him,
He and I will tour the gardens.
My other guests enjoyed it so.
They have yet to leave them.

I am the very heart and soul of courtesy.

I know this one was posted a while ago but I just read it and really, really liked it. Very well written MoP.

here's one i just did.
-
"I Knew"

I survive a wreck twice.
Once senseless,
Once all five.
I'm not psychic.
I quit counting long ago,
But lately
Twice every time.
I walk into wrecks and relax.
The scattered glass cracks underfoot,
Before the crash.

[Gavin Luper]

I'm no poet or critic of poetry, but I really liked that poem, Martin. Very ... clever. Well crafted and stuff. I usually don't get poetry but after a couple of beers it makes sense somehow ...

[dratinihaunter13]

thanks man =) i should put a disclaimer in front of all my poems -
Advisory: Best read drunk.

[Weasel Overlord]

Well, I won't hold any pretentions at being a poet, as I am most certainly and avidly not one, but hey!
However, in my creative writing seminars, we're doing poetry, and my last submission was to write a ten lined poem about a bed. Yup, you heard right. A bed. O.O I was also confused and afraid, and it was hard work sitting down to write this, and I hated it mostly, UNTIL I toodled along to my Criticism seminar on Friday and apparently people think it's good! Which is beyond me, but there ya go. Enjoy! (my favourite part is the title ^_^)

I Like My Bed

Creaky metal springs shine like stars
Under blue linen, draped canopy as the lion’s clawed
Feet herald in the dawn.
The gap underneath is the home of all nightmares;
Or so I used to believe, until they fled
Before dawn’s light first breaking through
Lead-lined windows.
Cool-quilted, one-pillowed comfort, hogged by the dog
As she stares with sighing eyes, kicking through her dreams
With a whimper.

[mistysakura]

Heehee, I like that poem, Weasel! (Okay if I call you that?) Nothing's too frivolous to write about -- Evanescence's "Imaginary" is about Amy Lee's room, and I'm actually writing a random song about rainbow unicorns, because I feel like it. Whether it will ever face the light of day, on the other hand... Anyway, I like the imagery in your poem, and I especially like the last three lines. The first line bugged me a bit though; I thought about the comparison of bed springs to stars and went "hmm..." Also, they wouldn't be shining unless they're exposed, and exposed bed springs are not fun. But hey, I don't understand all poetry, and artistic license is cool with me. Keep up the good work, and I hope we'll see more of your stuff.

[Weasel Overlord]

Aw thanks ^_^ It's fine if you call me Weasel too, lol. Many just call me Weas, hehe.

We'd done some exercises in the seminar before I wrote it to get a collection of words about beds we'd slept in, and our dream bed; the springs I remember from a bed when I was really young...I'm not entirely sure whether they were actually exposed or not, but memory can be like that, I guess. ^_~

I gotta do another poem for next Tuesday, so I might post that up here when it's finished. ^_^ *giggles away* hee hee...I'm still flabbergasted that people like it O.O

[mr_pikachu]

Well, if you want to be a good writer, be your own toughest critic. ^_^

I liked the description here, especially the "lion's clawed feet" part. Gave the image of a very ornate bedpost to me. Not sure if that was your intent, but that was the mental image I got.

What I found most interesting, though, was the mix of active and static description. To expound, you spent the first three (arguably seven) lines describing the bed itself. But then you changed tone and talked about the dog sleeping and its reaction to the bedspread. I'm not sure if I like or dislike the duality, but it's definitely intriguing.

Anyway, yeah. As I told you earlier, this was an enjoyable poem. Lots of imagery, like Ada commented. Pretty good stuff overall.

[mistysakura]

-removed temporarily due to copyright issues (the work has been submitted for publishing)-

[mr_pikachu]

Ooh, most interesting!

That was a fairly cold outlook on societal norms. I really liked the part about forced conversations - maybe it just me, but I thought that was an excellent observation. The general theme of choosing solitude over company, and doing so simply because one is used to it, worked well for you here.

It was a little weird, though, how it jumped from one topic to another very quickly. The piece seemed to switch ideas very quickly which made getting lost an easy task. Also, a couple of phrasing choices seemed odd, such as "mock conversation / struggling mid-sentence." I had to look at that part awhile to get what the meaning was (or what I think it was, at least), which disrupted the poem's flow.

But I liked the work overall. The emjambment didn't really hurt here; besides, you can claim that the technique was a metaphorical connection to the narrator's diversion from societal norms. ;) Lines 17 and 18 were especially strong and made for a good summation of your theme. All in all, nice job!

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

Land Of The Moltres
[same melody as in Rhapsody's 'Land Of Immortals', don't know? Well, no big deal]

Lawrence the third rides his ship
To the war against the Gods
Lugia changed the winds over seas

Chosen One must find the way
Where the ancient spheres lie
Gross the waters full of divine rage

Land of the Moltres
Where is the Fire?
Thrown to the battlship in skies

Land of the Moltres
Your king must be free
From here to eternity

Empty Moltres's hill
Zapdos brings the new era
Thunder rules now over Fire
The Island
Of Slowking
Must adorn with all the three
Upholding tales that never end!

Land of the Moltres
Lightning from the mountain
Thrown to the battleship in skies

Land of the Moltres
The peace has to rise again
From here to eternity

Holy force of Freezer
Articuno's wrath
He shall be everywhere
When the One sends the Gods free
Water's Great Guardian
Fails with his song
Now the fate of the whole World lies in the hands of the Chosen One

Yes, I have posted this before. EDIT: I would have more but they are in Finnish language. Do you think I should translate?

[dratinihaunter13]

EDIT: I would have more but they are in Finnish language. Do you think I should translate?

sure if you feel like it :)

here's one
--
"ominous clouds out"

did a dark dig til depth
and creek, swing your weathervane
to bed.
did a look lowered and good
glower, take your mascara
for a dip.
would you wander a while
longer, hover your bodice
to cover.
shutters. part shutters.
i'm holed up.

[Inferno_Dragon]

Here are two more poems that I have written:

Christmas

This holiday could be defined as my favorite time of year.
And why wouldn’t it be?
From standard or strange flavored Candy Canes
To Eggnog no matter if it is plain or if it mixed with Coca-Cola

To be able to spend time with the ones closest to you.
To put the precious ornaments whether frozen or animated
Up on the Christmas Tree whether real or artificial
Listening the annual Christmas Bible story the day before
Setting up the manager in the fireplace

And putting the figurines inside the miniature nativity scene
Putting out eggnog or milk and cookies for Santa
Then just waiting for the day to arrive

Then rush towards the tree whether it is upstairs
Or downstairs depending on where the tree is
Waiting for the family to arrive so you can open those presents
To tear the wrapping paper

like it is tissue paper.

Most people say that treasure comes in chest like in those pirate movies.
But I’d say true treasure comes in boxes wrapped with attractive paper
And decorated ribbons and bows or whatever goes on top of a present

It really doesn’t matter if we don’t get what we want
Or even if we do, it is the experience that matters.
So it doesn’t matter if any one of use gets a PS2, keys to a Jaguar,
Or a lease to the very first house we will ever own.

Savor those memories since Christmas comes and goes once a year
But those memories will be saved in your mind forever.

The Harry Potter Experience

I remember reading the first book
This book was definitely out of the ordinary.

Medieval times mixed together with Modern Times
Something I have never seen in literature

An orphan with an epiphany that he is a wizard
And that an evil wizard took his parents away from him

New friends and awful rivals together at the same school
Fascinating creatures from Hippogriffs to Winged Reptiles

Strict awful teachers to incredible wonderful teachers
Even ones that might sound suspicious in their teachings

Hogwarts have gone through at least 5 Defense Against the Dark Arts Teachers
Wow, that position must be really hard to fill if none of them last more than a year

More epiphanies learned by Harry, ones that shock and amaze.
Harry is a Parseltongue and his Godfather is a convicted criminal.

Though the use of advertising does show up, it really doesn’t matter.
Although the product placement of PlayStation was quite weird

Though they have gotten larger and larger by each book,
I have read the latest two books in more or less than a day.

This book has changed kids and adults everywhere.
This book has gotten them to read.

For a children’s book, you’d think adults wouldn’t be reading it
But sometimes things might shock for when you least suspect it.

Sure, there are people who are against it but I don’t care.
They can complain all they want but we will still be reading it.

I love Harry Potter and his wonderful adventures
I will cherish this series until the end of time.

And that is a total promise.

[Weasel Overlord]

@Inferno_Dragon: I didn't really like the repetition of "awful" and "epiphanies" in the Harry Potter one. For some reason it seemed like you were struggling to find words, so you used ones you felt safe with. I don't know.
And in the first one, in the fourth stanza you reiterate that the tree could be in a different place, and I think that it's unnecessary detail, really, cos you've already said that it can be upstairs or downstairs. That said, I think that the Christmas poem captures the excitement of the holiday really well, and in both poems I liked the first person perspective you used. ^_^

@Dratinihaunter: I loved the repetition of the /d/ sound and the enjambment worked particularly well, I thought. I'm a little uncertain about "hover your bodice/to cover", but only cos I don't really understand the image you're trying to invoke.
I think that the lack of capitals was also effective, (like e.e.cummings, ergh) as it gives the poem a more, sort-of, I dunno, flowiness. And I know, any essay that uses the word "flow" is shot by teachers, but I cannot think of a better word. So sue me. ^_~

And now, two poems of my own. The first is the product of being given a picture, writing as much down as we could about it and then writing the poem later, without the picture in front of me, and the second was the product of a writing exercise we did in my seminar class.
I'd like to draw your attention to the fact that the second one does, in fact, rhyme! Something I'm really proud of, since I can never use rhyme usually. ^_^
Oh, also, for the second poem we were given an object (mine was a mirror) and we had to write the poem from the p.o.v of that object. Fun!
(Upon reading it out loud, something about the rhythm of the last line in the mirror poem doesn't feel right. Anyone think of a replacement for "beauty" that fits with the rhythm more?) Scrap that, I changed "forever more" to "'ever more". Huzzahs! ^_^


Shades of Home




There is a mare, present at every meal.



She snuffles through open half-door for food freely given



From kindly hand.



There is a dog, staring hopefully, longing in his eye



For the food that sits so close,



Yet forbidden.



There is a plant. It sits, forlorn, bare on the windowsill,



As if awaiting water or spring,



Though blossoms bloom outside uncaring.



There are but two shades: dust and homeliness.



And dear family sit side by side,



Grasped tightly by sepia and brown



As they enjoy the simple food before them.


Mirror Poem (no-name)

I see the world through others' eyes
A wistful sigh, a recollection.
I tell the truth, but in disguise
Perfection in a clear reflection.

Bad luck to you if I should break
My body shattered on the floor.
My fragile heart do not unmake
And I'll show beauty 'ever more.

[dratinihaunter13]

thanks for that helpful critique WO =)

here's a quickie

"asleep afloat"

ethereal whispers,
warm west winds,
rested, relaxed, loved,
and you're there.
until my phone sings
my roommate's bass bumps
the dog next door yelps
a police siren wails by,
and I curse when I wake and I walk.

EDIT: i changed some of that last one with punctuation and some clarity. here's a new one:

"Fooled"

My heart is a packed auditorium, silenced.
The magician has vanished.
The pledge
Delayed but convincing,
The audience leaned in.
The turn
Stunning,
The fools waited, expected.
The prestige
Promised but missing,
And my heart is packed, silenced.

The audience must imagine
The magician bowing somewhere
Or they will never leave this performance.

[mr_pikachu]

Got something I wrote in about 20 minutes. The topic? One of my biggest writing pet peeves. It's a pretty short piece, but a little bit unorthodox.

...Okay, more than a little bit.



Spoil Chick

Dew yow aver yews spiel chucking?
Eats vary god four mi.
Avery ward a peers sew précis,
End eye lock grate two the.
Sense yew half nut trade et yore salve,
Yow mussed bee quiet eh foul.
Me spill chocker mikes mea seam knit.
Thee thong ease ay coal toll!

[dratinihaunter13]

very creative mr_pika =) at first i thought it was a poem parodying the way spoiled, rich girls talk, and that was your peeve. but once i saw that wasn't working at all, the true genius came through. why can't spell check read our minds yet for chrissakes it's the year 2007!

[mr_pikachu]

Ehehe, glad you liked it. ^_^ The only bad thing is that if you put it into a new enough version of Word, it will catch grammar errors on one or two lines. Still need to work out that one... then we can have Spoiling End Gram Air Chick! XD

[mistysakura]

Hehe, when I read the first few words, I thought your pet peeve was Aussie accents :P Anyway, I don't get a couple of bits, but it generally amused me. dh: I really like Fooled (probably also because I like The Prestige). I like the metaphor, as it provides a good image. The last sentence was a strong way to end the piece. For "asleep afloat", I actually liked the original version better. For me, the lack of punctuation created a flowing, ethereal quality, whereas now it's a bit more orthodox and structured. It could just be because I'm used to seeing less punctuation from you, so it stands out. I do like the change in the last line, though (I think it was different, anyway) -- it makes the piece's intention clearer.

Poetry from me will exist here shortly... I'm trying to expand on Solitude (thanks Brian for the feedback; I agree, and once I posted the thing I thought maybe I hadn't developed it enough), but the stupid middle section is resisting change. Or it decides it wants to go off on a random tangent unrelated to the rest of the poem. I'm also wrestling with another poem of mine, called 'The Princess'; the problem here is that I can't seem to decide on the tone, so it sounds a bit ridiculous at the moment. Lastly, there is 'Pavlov's Girl', and its words are complete, but I just want to arrange and record it before posting it here. Too much advertising, enough from me for now.

[mr_pikachu]

Nah, your Aussie accents are just fine. ^_^ But since some things were difficult to decipher... translation time!


Spellcheck

Do you ever use spellchecking?
It's very good for me.
Every word appears so precise,
And I look great to thee.
Since you have not tried it yourself,
You must be quite a fool.
My spellchecker makes me seem neat.
The thing is a cool tool!

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

Kaunotar punatukka Maarit

(the same melody as in Sailor Moon's Moonlight Densetsu)

Kaunotar punatukka Maarit
Unessa on hän minun oma Maarit
Sekä fiksu että söpö Maarit
Nimeä tuota tuuleen kuiskaan

Kun emme suojaa todelta kiellä
Unelmat nakataan meille tiellä
Silloin mielin heti puhumaan
Pian olemme kahdestaan

Nukkumatta yöllä hukun itkuun
Sen vastauksella tavoittaa voi kuun
Nuppu nuoruuden puhkeaa
Rakkaus avaa kukkansa

MAAAAARITIN kauneudesta voimani mä saan
Jos tukkaa kehun, hän kiittää

Kaunotar punatukka Maarit....

English translation:

The beauty, red-haired Maarit
In a dream she is my Maarit
Both clever and sweet Maarit
The name I whisper in the wind

When we don't deny cover from truth
Dreams are thrown on us in the road
Then I want to talk with you
Soon will we be together

Without sleeping at night I drown in crying
Its answer can reach the moon
The bud of youth blossoms
Love opens its flower

From Maarit's beauty I get my power
If I praise her hair, she thanks (me)

The beauty, red-haired Maarit...

And then...I know they are polynomials, not polynoms, but here it is anyway:

Polynom!

I want to count the very best
Like no number was
To teach them all is my real test
Derivating in what proportion
I will never buy a Texas
My brains grew too wide
Each Polynom to understand
The paired function inside
Polynom!
It's it and me
I know it's trigonometry
Polynom!
You are my test at school
Argument we must defend!
Polynom!
A term so true
Or square imaginary
You teach me and I teach you
Polynom
Gotta teach them all!
Every expression along the way
With determination I face
I will sum them everyday
To claim my right product
Come in with me
Degree is right
There's the best angle
Paper and pen will beat teachers
It's always been MY dream!

[Gavin Luper]

Heh, gnarly poem Brian. From the title I thought the same as dh13, that it was about spoiled chicks, and then from the first line I thought the same as Ada, that it was having a go at Aussie accents like Kath and Kim, or maybe a Kiwi accent. I eventually caught on though, by taking the time to read your preface. Very original and very amusing, too, I enjoyed it.

[Weasel Overlord]

My last poem, and I think my favourite. Apparently, it made my class want to get out their old paintbrushes and apologise to them, which is always nice, I guess. ^_^
Our task was to take an object (mine was a paintbrush in a jar) and write a poem about or from it's p.o.v. It was quite fun. My paintbrush is sad.
When I wrote this, I had a preoccupation with turps. I originally wanted my poem to be something along the lines of "turps, turps, turps, turps!" only in a song format, and then I figured that it wouldn't be respectable, so here is the result.

A Retirement in Turps

Back in the day I was used.
Watercolours, emulsion, oils.
But now I sit, bemused,
Soaking in turpentine spoils.

I wonder where my bristles went,
And why I sit in this old jar.
The shiny new brush took my place,
And I sit, forlorn, abandoned,

Alone.
An eternity in turps.

[Tyler and Hobbes]

We're... we're... we're goddamn fucking puppets man... XD This one's kind of about... actually, I really don't know what this one's about. Hope it's good, though.

Anemone

Faint notes might fill the air
In my attempt to sing
But everything I've written
Comes out so plain and cheap
Oh come, oh come, my sweet young muse
Please don't abandon me
Just give me a whisper to know you're there
Why won't you answer me?

You might have read a book
Filled with trite fables
And in it was true happiness
It filled up the day
But you can only hope so much
Until it drives you insane
You must stumble through life alone

While a woman wastes away
In a clean apartment studio
Drinking to every half-screamed verse
She turns up the radio
Saying, we interrupt you
Your broadcast was expendable
I'm afraid we have some news
Lord, we have some news

A business man works at home
He's been sick and feels like dying
On the TV screen an anchorman
Looks like he's been crying
As he delivers five simple words
My God, what is happening
He can not look at the screen

A piece of footage obtained
Loops over and over
The beauty of the image
Contrasts with a projection so horrible
It just falls to the earth
Into a tower so fucking magical
Can't help but stare at the screen

Our voices were the multitude
Stripped from mourning in tune
When we cried in our apartment
That sunny afternoon
And we prayed to somebody
Even if we had forgotten who
Screaming, We just want to bring them back
Fuck you, if you won't bring them back

Well you all might stare at the future
Shot through by a burning plane
And you might feel your deep blue blood
Twist in some remembered pain
But don't let it ever get to you
And when you're crying, just say
God, I need you so
Let's hope that that's enough

They say in a southern drawl
It's not about oil
We're just protecting the freedom
Of every girl and boy
And as they rape our rights behind our backs
Sending poor kids out to die
All of us raise our hands
Ignore the curtain behind the man

[Ash_of_pallet_town]

Heres my first poem.

The fog comes in on little cats feet as the men prepare for battle.
Short and Quick the men move to gain an advantage.
Quicker then quick the battle is won,
But no vicktors to celibrate.
Only orphans and widows to morn for the fallen.

[Mewtwo-D2]

I just wrote this one- I'd love critique.


My Warrior


I heard you crying.
Did you know?

My warrior
Marches
Just a few more days to tote the weary load

I heard him crying.
Did you hear?

My warrior
Sleeps
Take me to where they have laid him

I heard our crying.
Did you see?

My warrior
Lays down his spear
And dies.

Ares never failed him.
Morpheus held him prisoner long before.

His courage could have won the war.
His body lost the battle.

You heard us crying.
Did you care?

[mistysakura]

Ash_of_pallet_town: I like the metaphor of fog coming in on little cats' feet, although I was confused as to how it was relevant to the rest of the poem. At first the battle sounds a bit like a chess match, all strategic and stuff, and it also seems to deprive the men of humnaity as they're all just referred to as a collective of soldiers. It's a nice contrast to the end where you have the reality of war, women and children mourning. The way you described the men as "short and quick" was a bit weird though; I'm guessing you meant to describe the battle rather than the men as short, but because of where you put the phrsae, it sounded like you wer describing the men. Also, 'vicktors' should be 'victors', and 'morn' should be 'mourn'.

Mewtwo-D2: one very cool poem. The way in which you used repetition was to great effect, and it wasn't monotonous at all. The end was particularly effective. It was interesting how you interlaced the bits talking about the listener with the story about the warrior. A real critique... hehe, I'll pass. I don't know enough.

fireguardian: just brilliant. What is there to say? Oh yeah, maybe I missed something, but the poem seemed to move off in a direction totally different from where it started. The first paragraph seemed particularly random. But taken separately, this is awesome stuff. Have now run out of words. You're too good for me.

Now to my own contribution. Another war-related poem, yay. By the way, I'm an Asian, a loner, I'm after an English major and I write morbid poetry, but I don't wage war. *back on topic* I'm a pacifist. I don't really know why I feel qualified to write a song about war given that I'm a sheltered former-elite-private-school eighteen-year-old girl in the 'leafy eastern suburbs' of Victoria, but I felt like it. Anyway, this was inspired by the track 'I have seen the rain' on Pink's album 'I'm Not Dead'. The track was written by Pink's father about the Vietnam War, and I found it a very... peaceful... song about war. (It was in a major key...) So I started thinking what would happen if an emo like me went to war. This is the result. It will most likely be edited as I put music to it, and I hope to put an audio up someday.

Rain Eternal

I have seen the rain
showering kisses of spring
crystallising petals
puddles for a laughing child
bless those fleeting years

I have touched the rain
malicious metal pelting
searing sizzling the skin
bullets brand me veteran
blood my badge of honour

Now all I ask
is shelter from the downpour
a place of rest, a sanctuary
a mound of dirt, no more

As twilight casts its shadows
darkness reigns in the land
may stars guide me to midnight
will I ever see the dawn
cloudless birth of mourning
too many tears to cry
hide me from the rain
one last night

I have seen the rain
burdened clouds shedding tears
empathy glistens like dew
grass blades poke through crevices
of bombshell craters

I have tasted the rain
when desperate pleading dies
choked back by helplessness
eternal raindrops from above
my only reply

Now all I ask
is shelter from the downpour
a place of rest, a sanctuary
a mound of dirt, no more

As twilight casts its shadows
darkness reigns in the land
may stars guide me to midnight
will I ever see the dawn
cloudless birth of mourning
too many tears to cry
hide me from the rain...

Will rain ever be the same again?

As bombshells cast their shadows
human evil conquers
may stars guide me to midnight
I will never see the dawn
cloudless birth of mourning
with no more tears to cry
free me from the rain
this last night


... I really need to edit this. I wrote it with no punctuation, and as I typed it up I realised it needed some punctuation to make more sense. Wherever I put it, it still made no sense. An edit will come when I'm feeling less lazy... Much criticism is good. Also, are there any Latin scholars here who could translate 'Rain eternal(ly)' for me? Thanks!

[Tyler and Hobbes]

Thanks for the praise. But really, I wasn't kidding when I said I had no idea what it was about. Ever have that happen to you? Where a poem just completely takes control until you're not sure when you actually wrote it? I guess it's kind of like banging on drums, to find you've been playing blue grass the entire time.

Your piece was - that was way more than anything I could do in a day. You captured the hopelessness of war, of spending every day wondering if you'll ever see your homeland again. Your point of view throttled me into actually thinking it written by a soldier in Vietnam, and if it was taken by itself you could probably even pass it off as such. The absence of punctuation made me read through it, word by word, but the labor of scrutinizing each verse for meaning felt like it was meant to be part of the poem. Please, please, and I cannot stress this enough, don't change anything dealing with punctuation. It may seem like a small thing, but it adds a lot to the overall theme of weariness.

I never thought I'd actually have to use this, but the Latin for Rain Eternal would be Pluvia Sempiterna (Rain Eternal, or, more like, Eternal Rain). Boy, Catholic school really beats useless crap into you.

Hope I've helped a little.

[mistysakura]

Thanks for the praise, fireguardian.Call it vanity or what you will, but feedback (positive or negative) is the second most important reason I write. The first is, of course, personal satisfaction. Anyway, will take your advice on the punctuation. Actually, when I tried to put some in it just looked... divisive. Eh. Thanks for the translation as well, but I've decided to keep the title as it is for two reasons; firstly people wouldn't get what it meant if I changed it, and secondly, it would then sound like a sheltered former-elite-private-school eighteen-year-old girl's work. Originally I wanted it in Latin to mimic a requiem-type thing, like how requiem aeternam is rest eternally (I think). But the above two reasons overruled it.

Anyway, thanks again. Am in the process of writing the music to it, and I think it's losing any authenticity it ever had... trying not to be too fancy, but not too commonplace at the same time. Will psot when it's done.

[Saffire Persian]

I'm not one for poetry, but I wrote this for my Creative Writing class I'm taking, and felt I might as well share it. Any comments, critique, etc. is greatly appreciated.


R.E.M. | G.A.T.E.

When the day flashes lapis-gossamer
in the star-blown sky,
I lie awake and wonder things
while the silent cat-clock tail thrashes in reply,
counting missing moments
that have unknowingly ticked by.

My eyes waver, and they close
I see light breaking through the hallowed clouds
of darkness mixed with rainbow Catherine wheels.
Disfigured colors, where black is white:
a picture of Picasso artistry-
Ah! Such a marvelous sight!

Then I see starlight, vague images of fleeting shadows,
Where houses have no name,
It's a quiet town with thin-waxed candles
with a single, unmarked grave, grazed by winter's chill.
They wait for the spring that is to come
with its immortal daffodils.

I wonder, then, if my hand should hold a sword,
or perhaps a bow or scythe,
as I come upon an ancient castle,
where magic must reside.
Within, I'll fight the fierce chimeras
and ride the pegasi.

But it is then,
I suddenly realize,
That I really should be building
my castle in the sky
where dreams are made of dreams
and never do they die.

But I'm walking on grass now,
(and the sky seems so far away)
My thoughts seem forever trivial,
as light as a cool spring day
Everything is nothing now,
like a child’s honest play.

The scenery is now familiar
I think that I am home, perhaps this time to stay,
Laughing children, familiar faces,
mouths open as if to say,
to come and walk with them once more,
just like yesterday.

Then, that light appears again,
with it's stunning Catherine wheels
and hypnotizing rainbows.
I fight, but lose the battle against the pulling shine--
I jerk and thrash and throw my head upright
into the territory that is mine.

There's no more grass, no more sky
and no more thin-waxed candles,
just a quiet, monochrome world,
where everything is as it seems
It is then, and only then, that I wonder
if perhaps this is a dream.

[mistysakura]

Beware the blasphemy. Mm... yeah I hope no one will be offended. It's all in the name of art.

Brimstone Diamonds

Warmth licking, stroking, embracing,
searing a tattoo across the skin
like a whisper. Savour the intimacy
stolen from the chilled skies.
Light flickering, crackling, illuminating
the depths of sin, reflecting, diffracting
casting overlapping shadows –
Shades of grey in a world of
vermillion and crimson
flaming roses.
Succumb to the devil’s beauty.

In hell our voices are as one
shrieking in praise, not for escape
no eternal yearning for something beyond.
Forever is this instant of ravishing pain
as we burst into a lacrymosa
each phrase counterpoint to the symphonic
freedom. In hell
We use the Almighty’s name in vain.

Injustice has no place in hell
The killer and the thief share a bonfire
hunger extinguished by the flames
disease overcome by our darkness.
No inhibitions
as we sway, fearless feet on glowing coals.
No thoughtcrime no blasphemy no original sin
for the Lord’s judgment has forsaken us.
No harsh cry of the last trumpet heard.

We revel in immortality
cast aflame, never to perish.
Hell sees our souls recast by death
purified from molten flesh.
We are brimstone diamonds
The magnificence of the inferno
a backdrop for our shameless acts
shedding light on evil truth
its luminescence clinging like a
halo.


So... an artist's impression of hell, of sorts. Anyway, time for my usual author's blabbering. This one came about because I was thinking about how the Catholic Church abolished limbo. The original ideas might go in another poem someday, but anyway thinking about that led on to hell, and how some qualities of it might even be attractive to those in a living hell on earth... which is what is here in great exaggeration. Just a random note, I don't believe everything I write (not in creative writing anyway). this is the favourite of my poems so far, although I think it's quite self-indulgent and in parts it sounds like I copied words out of a thesaurus. I was trying to capture such a magnificent thing, and yet I had to be so vague because, well, obviously I don't know the specifics of hell, and I also tried to make it resonate with what most people would think hell is like (physically; spiritually it's all subverted, of course.) Inspirations: Plantae's short story 'An end to reason' (I was going to make this a trilogy of heaven, limbo and hell, but you've pretty much said everything I want to say about heaven), Mozart's Requiem (Lacrymosa) (or rather, Evanescence's usage of it), Faure's Requiem.

[Zcade0]

This poem is by a good friend of mine named Ryan Riverside:

Empty



Sitting here in an empty chair

Staring at the empty table

Resting in the empty room

Not quite in the empty house


Walking down the empty streets

Stomping on quite deadened feet

Looking in through empty windows

Passing into empty houses


Waiting in the empty lines

Hating all the empty rides

Riding on the empty trains

Trying to find unempty places


Passing through the empty towns

Hearing nothing in empty places

Drowning in the empty lakes

Knowing that’s empty living there


Passing by the empty people

Hearing all their empty thoughts

Crashing through their empty lives

Ignoring all their empty cries

--

he has a lot more, but I thought I'd just post this one for now

[Houndoom_Lover]

I should start posting my poems here! ^_^ Here is my faaaaavorite!!

-----

That is then
This was now
break the dam
and drowned the town

Past was dark
future dim
hold your breath
if you can't swim

---
YAY! ^_^

[Zcade0]

Another one by Ryan Riverside, this one is my favorite out of them all:

--
Reading Can Be Dangerous

She opened the book and compellingly began reading

Her whole heart and mind into what she sees

With the characters her heart is bleeding

And she trembles at her knees


As she gets more involved in the story she can feel their pain more

She becomes entwined with the book

And the book begins to explain blood and gore

But she just can’t break her look


Her character’s hurt, and her character’s crying

And she’s on the floor

Now the character’s dying

But she keeps on reading for more


The character gets stabbed in the back

And she winces with the hurt

On the wood-plank floor there’s a dusty crack

And a blade sticking up out of the dirt


With her dying breath she reads her last

And with the character

Dies with a gasp

The book falling next to her


When she was found and pulled away

Her mother found the book right where it was left

She shrugged and looked to see what it was named

And started reading what was left


Another character, and a later time

Her eyes widened with delight

This reading was sublime

She stayed up late into the night


Her character was a detective

Investigating the previous murder

The mother was quite perceptive

And kept reading further


She immersed herself in the book as well,

Reading as she walked from room to room

Until the detective for some reason fell

And she went to the floor with a terrific boom


The murderer was upon the detective

And the mother felt that someone was on her as well

She was quite perceptive

Even though she fell.


The detective was beaten by the murderer

Beaten bloody and left for dead

Even bloody the mother read on a little further

Wiping the blood from her head


The detective recovered in five pages

As did the mother

Exhausted, she fell asleep after fifteen more pages

As the detective was put in a coma by some other


The brother came by and saw the mother with the book

He went in the room and snatched it up

Just so that he could have a look

He read so long he missed his sup


His character was a bit more involved

He was given lots of clues

Lots of things to be solved

They stumped him until the character knew what to do


When the murderer went after this character

He knew how to fight

He karated his way against the murderer

It was drawn out long into the night


The brother read slower than the other two

So he grew tired partway through the fight

But he did not bid the book adieu

Even after it was again light


At the end of the fight the character caught fire

The brother ran outside, fighting invisible flames

In the book the flames grew even higher

And the murderer took all the blames


With his hands he fought the flame that couldn’t really be there

But yet it crisped his clothes

And it singed his hair

It came and came in murderous droves


In the book the character was doused with water

And so the brother fell to the ground

Relieved to not be charcoal fodder

He read on, ready for another round


The water roused the brother

And he was no longer exhausted

He no longer thought of his mother

Or of how the ground was frosted


He read as his character was kidnapped by the evil one

And taken out into the middle of nowhere land

And thrown near who-knows-what

The snow on the ground chilling the character’s hand


The character had nowhere he could go

He did not know where he was

He was lost in the snow

Just as the brother was


As the character died of exposure

Because he was a slow reader

The brother died as just as sure

Content with the avid reader


And along came the father

Who thought the son was sleeping

And thought ‘oh what the bother’

And began reading


The newest character was the villain

Who was hunted by all in their own ways

But he was content in his own killin’

And all against him had to count their days


And as the father immersed himself in this sorry character

He truly felt

That the villain’s character

Was girded around his own mental belt


And as the villain prowled around looking for the plotters

So did the man

Sneaking around the plant potters

Reading man to man


The neighbor’s dog chased the reader

Just as a junkyard dog chased the villain

And both dogs bit a bleeder

And both the men went to their killin’


And as the dog just began to choke

The police were finally called

To come after this joke

And other dogs came and mauled


The father ran away from the neighborhood dogs

Ran into the woods

To hear all the frogs

And the villain ran into the ‘hood


They lay where they were

To recuperate from the blood loss they had

The man reading the words

Their blood loss was bad


As the man lay there dying

Just as the villain did

He could hear a little boy crying

And found where the boy hid


In order to comfort the boy

Who had snapped him from his reading trance

Since he had no toy

He gave him the giant book for a glance

[Gavin Luper]

Hey guys. I'm no poet or anything, and most good poetry just goes over my head, but we had to write a sonnet for my creative writing class, so I thought I'd post it up here. It's probably not very good, but I dunno, I kind of like it.

-------------------------------------

Woman of the Earth

Is there a deed more terrible than this?
The potter’s hands bear down on you like clay
Resilient beauty trampled by my wish
A Vulcan rivulet from pewter grey
The first of many glaring needles will
Put you to death: Destroy the precious few
Distinctions from your parallels and hills
Immerse you in a stream of grey and blue
Your hardened face deceived a poor man’s hope
For you were stagnant with no need to stay
You gave the overlord untrammelled scope
Beneath his flooding you were wiped away.

I smile: your wounds heal up after the rain
Your reformed, rugged beauty breathes again.

[Gavin Luper]

I don't know if this is a poem or a song or just questions. Whichever way, this was very cathartic for me to write.

Daimler

How can you stand to see yourself like this?
How can you stand to do what you don't want to?
How do you cope when you're your own antithesis?
How can you win when you can't get out of bed?

How does spinelessness overcome your resistance?
How does dependency make you a stronger man?
How can you equate alcoholism with breathing?
How can you say suicidal is being yourself?

How do you kill yourself without anyone knowing?
How do your hands pull your own trigger?
How long can spiders plough you into nonexistence?
How long do you think you can keep your silence?

How can I exchange recklessness for temperance?
How can I bury my trespasses?
How can I prevent the death of forgiveness?
How can I even begin?

[mr_pikachu]

Thanks for replying, everyone. I really appreciate it.


Ada: Well, I was talking about the sheer length, to be honest. A 300+ line poem just seemed a little long for the Poetry Corner. But nonetheless, I see what you mean.

It's odd... this was both really hard and really easy to write. I mean, once I started, the words just flowed. I barely even had to think about them. But it was still hard because... well... it hurt. Every word was a reminder of the reality.

At any rate, thanks for your concern. I appreciate you recognizing the fragility of it. Or maybe it's the fragility of me. Either way, thanks. *hugs*


Gavin: Thanks, man. You know, I honestly didn't think it would be so obvious that this was real. But thank you for noticing the vulnerability of it, real or fictional.


Weasel: I was in tears when I was writing it, too.

I'm glad the whole stream-of-consciousness thing was effective. It's not one of my usual techniques, but I may try it again in the future.

I guess writing this was cathartic, in a way. It's something that I've had bottled up for far too long. *hugs*


Martin: Thanks for the compliment. I didn't expect that this was such an easy piece with which to empathize; it was more just for the whole emotion of it. Maybe I should use topics like that more often.

As for the well wishes... thanks. I may or may not need them.


CEB: Thanks, man. As I told Martin, I'm a little surprised at the ease with which people can relate to this, especially considering the specificity of certain aspect. And as for the falling to pieces aspect... I guess you caught a sense of what I've been feeling.


Again, thanks for your replies.

[mistysakura]

Time to comment...

Zcade0/ Ryan Riverside, I guess: Reading can be Dangerous was an entertaining read. The repetition of the same scenari played out on differnet people reinforced the spookiness, although it did get a bit long. It was especially haunting how different members of the family were pursuer and pursued, villain and innocent. The structure was nice and simple which suited the narrative style; the rhyming seemed forced at times though, especially when resorting to using contractions like "killin'" to rhyme with "villain". Used well, rhyming doesn't stick out, but improves the flow and sound of the poem.

Gavin: I never thought I'd see you in here. Hehe I hope you're slowly being converted.

Woman of the Earth: mm, this is what I was talking about earlier. I love the sonnet rhyming scheme, and the way you've used it here really makes the poem flow and stick together. It's a great form for describing natural beauty (or I guess lack thereof). I didn't get what the poem was about at first; got to the middle, started rereading, and began to understand. Anyway, the poem has some good dramatic word choices and conveys a great respect for the earth (referring to it as 'you' was a good choice). I also liked how the rain was portrayed as the enemy, the destroyer, and yet it was hoped for (the narrator's wish, if I interpret it correctly?) The last two lines made a strong conclusion (once again, the couplet did help), a different perspective. The first line seemed a bit out of place though; I don't know, like it was there because you had written thirteen lines and needed another to make it fit the form. I was also confused with line 10, but then again understanding every word of a work has never been my forte; I usually just understand what I can and guess the rest.

Daimler: Well, I understand this poem, I guess, to the extent that you want me to understand it. The sentences are simple enough, but I get the feeling that as with all personal poems, after reading it I'm still missing something. Because real/ semi-fictional people can't be wrapped up nicely in sixteen lines. And you're not writing it for an audience but for yourself, so you want to write about what's important, not spend time explaining it to an audience. (I know I'm assuming a lot here, but hey you said it was cathartic, so I guess it's based on something in real life.) So that's my excuse for being confused (what/who is (a) Daimler?). Anyway, once again very striking word choices, making the poem a strong statement (despite there being no answers. I guess sometimes it's asking the right questions that requires strength.) I especially like lines 6-7 and 12-14. In terms of the sound of the poem, the rhythm sounds perfectly like prose, and when I try to read it aloud I get stuck on words. Meh. Doesn't mean it's not good in its own right. There's this change in attitude in stanza 4, and I didn't even notice this until the third reading or so, but changing from 'you' to 'I' in that stanza was well done to highlight that change. Meaning-wise, of course, I don't understand. I particularly liked the last line because although it was the end of the poem it was about a new beginning, which provided some hope in an otherwise downward-spiralling situation.

... that took a ridiculously long time.

[mistysakura]

I'd normally edit this in, but since the above post was comments on other fics and this is my own... feel free to argue with me.

The Artist

You waltzed onto my canvas
Brightened up my world
Just for one moment, just one day
You left me without a trace
No photograph to prove you were real
But I can dream

I'm a painter and my eyes won't let you go, no
Splashes of colour and you face me again
A stroke a day brings your portrait to perfection
But under the layers

I can't tell if I'm portraying your true likeness
Are you just another one of my creations?
Do I feel for one I've brought into existence?
Am I just a victim of my imagination?

You leaped onto my empty page
Told me things I'd never heard
One conversation, just one day
You left me only with words
Not written down, they echoed in my ears
They make me dream

I'm a writer and my words won't let you go, no
Pages of journals bring you to life again
Stanzas merge into poetry, anthologies
But in between the lines

Have I changed your essence beyond recognition?
Are you real, or just another work of fiction?
Am I fooled by one I've lied into existence?
Am I just a victim of my imagination?

I can't hide in a fairytale forever
I jsut want an escape from this confusion
Though it hurts, I need your truth to set me free
I wish not for your love, but your return
To burn down my creations, expose my illusions
My true feelings for an unreal you

Let me shed my tears for loving an imitation
Stand reality against my work of fiction
I twisted you into a false existence
I'm a victim, a fool for my imagination

May I paint myself with feet firmly planted on the ground
Someday I'd like to know the real you.

Disclaimer: eh, if I said this was 100% fiction I'd be lying. But most if it isn't personal experience. 'You' isn't any particular person either, but an amalgamation of a whole lot of experiences.

I forgot to say that this is a song. It's by far the most 'normal', down-to-earth, unpretentious, and yet somewhat girly and stupid thing I've written. But I like it for some reason. It was fun to write. Except the bridge (? the thing with six lines, anyway) is weak (I've rewritten it about seven times already... argh) and so are a couple of lines. The idea came to me just as I was getting to bed, and I just had to stay up and finish it. This will be arranged and recorded with my trusty mp3 player some time as well; I imagine it with acoustic guitar but I don't have one and can't play one, so... oh yeah, Rain Eternal's arrangement is done, I just need to practise and record it.

Influences: A lot of Missy Higgins, quite a bit of (gasp) Avril Lavigne(thank goodness not lyric-wise), a tiny bit of Delta Goodrem and Killing Heidi. Also Just Words and Daimler.

[Gavin Luper]

Ada: Well, I had to comment back. I didn't feel like explaining the poems at the time, but I'm more in the mindset to do that now.

Woman of the Earth - You pretty much got the idea of this one. That's the first sonnet I've done and it was a challenge, so I'm glad it mostly worked out okay. It was, as you said, about natural beauty: I was comparing the beauty of nature and the beauty of females, both of which I find fascinating (without sounding like a loser!). The poem's about how you have something beautiful, but you think, 'you know what, this could be better if it was changed like this' ... and the next thing you know, you get your wish and you go, 'shit - what have I done?' There's a bit more to it, I suppose, but that's the idea at the core of the whole thing.

Daimler - I still don't feel like talking much about this one. It really was (or is) intensely personal and also very black. That seems the best way to describe it. But thanks for letting me know your thoughts on it, because that helped me. As for your question: consider Daimler to be either a place or a process, I don't know which. It's a bit abstract but it makes sense to me.

(Mate - I sound like a sap. Who'd have thought I'd be writing poetry or lyrics or thoughts like that voluntarily?)

Now, to The Artist - I really liked this. It definitely isn't as dark and pensive as some of your other poems, but it still sounds like it suits you, and evokes a realistic mood of introspection. It really did feel like it was a song, too, and not just a poem. I really loved the idea of painting something and realising that your own imagination had kind of tainted that image, rearranged the reality of what had actually happened.

I also thought I felt the Missy Higgins vibe - weirdly, the "You leaped onto my empty page" reminded me of "You breathed infinity into my world", from Higgins' "They Weren't There". Also, the same line reminded me of "Miss You" by Killing Heidi, so the girly influences seemed present for me, even if these songs didn't have anything to do with the actual creation of your poem.

And I also have to express my undying love for you, seeing as you referenced both Daimler AND Killing Heidi as influences! Haha. Could I be so rude as to ask which song/s in particular influenced "The Artist"? ^^ Yeah, I'm a bit too much of a fan, but oh well.

Cheers!

[mistysakura]

Hehe, you sap. :P Welcome to the world of poetry. Nah, really, I reckon there's something about poetry that makes people talk about things in ways they wouldn't normally, dig into their emotions in ways they wouldn't normally. Which makes them sound like melodramatic emos a lot of the time. It magnifies the emotional side of people even if it doesn't usually show. Unless they're a psychopath or something. Although apparently Mao was a decent poet in his early years. Now I'm going totally off-topic.

The Killing Heidi songs that influenced me? You know what, I can't name them either. With them it wasn't so much direct influence, but when I was writing I could hear the music playing in my head and bits of it were very much in the Killing Heidi style. No, actually, I do remember one song sticking out lyrically: Summer Long. But I can tell you that the Missy Higgins songs were 100 Round the Bends and Scar (both so influential that when I actually do the melody properly I'll have to dig myself out of a plagiarism hole), and for Avril Lavigne it was Things I'll Never Say and My Happy Ending.

[Gousuto-chan]

Here's something I had to write for a Creative Writing course last semester. It was an ode, and we could write about anything. I wrote about my Gameboy Color.

Ode to Atomic Purple

Under my bed I find you
with apologies I dust you off
How long has it been, old friend?
Years ago I would've been ashamed
to leave you carelessly on my dirty bedroom floor.
I remember those days fondly
My childhood now locked inside your translucent casing
whiling away hours and batteries
my eyes fixed on your fantastic 8-bit screen
The tapping of the A button keeps
a prevalent tempo which echos through my home
Nothing else is of consequence
Just one more level
just one more level
Child, come eat your dinner
Hold on, just let me save--the siren call of my youth
Oh Atomic Purple
You are a window into the wonders of technology
chips and wires abound below your invincible surface
tempting me to defile you with a screwdriver
But I have too much respect and I'm busy right now
Just one more level

[Gavin Luper]

Ada: Yeah, this poetry thing is quite odd ... but I'm finding it cathartic. I love Summer Long too, lyrically but also the breezy sound of that song is so lazy.

Gousuto-chan: I never thought I'd see Game Boys and poetry mix. But there you go. ^^ I thought it worked quite well, too; I really enjoyed the refrain of 'just one more level'. And the need to save before doing chores - man, that rings a bell from way back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

OK, I wrote this kind of randomly. It was actually just a stream of consciousness thing I wrote to get some things outside of me, but I kind of made it into 'lyrics'. Though this would make a very disorganised song indeed. I would imagine this to be something like a distorted version of "Joining You" by Alanis Morissette (at least in terms of mood), without a chorus. Nothing rhymes or probably even has any rhythm in this, it really was just a free writing kind of thing.

EDIT: Took out the "and also" ... feels like it flows better, as Ada said.

Beware Poisons

You’re like a bigger version of me
and I can see you anytime I want
without a mirror and I can make you
become a better me
‘cause that’s what I use you for
and you’re okay with that or at least you were for a bit,
but either way it scared me right back
and now I just hope I keep it to myself
and I won’t walk into your house and see
your folks discussing me and how sad it is that I went wrong.

When I come face to face with you
and I’m in a mood
it all just melts away
and I suspend reality
as I leave my tongue behind
with my old school and everything I used to say and still do,
because it’s too hard to maintain
and everyone needs to de-stress now and then
everyone needs to de-stress sometimes
I just do it in a way that happens to be slowly killing me that’s all.

Well it’s sickening to watch
especially for you but sometimes
I find that sickening is glamorous
and it helps me get through
but I know you can’t see inside my head
so I won’t even try to explain what drove me to this beast in the first place
and why I still let it consume me
and suck me dry
sometimes I wish I were stronger
sometimes I wish I could get away from myself for a while without involving poisons.

[mistysakura]

Gousuto-chan: Ah, you're tapping into our collective childhood memories... I had a translucent white one, and you could see all the electronics in it, and I was always tempted to take it apart except I was scared I wouldn't be able to put it back together again. I liked the poem because it resonated with me, brought back some good times. I liked the repetition of 'just one more level', and how it applied both to the past you and the present you, rediscovering the games.

Gavin: I can totally relate to writing random stuff to get it out of my head. Yeah this is a pretty disorganised thing, but it doesn't matter... it starts sorting itself out as it goes, which is nice to see. I like the last line of each stsanza; they're all strong statements, sort of recognising the problem but resigned to it in some way. The last one bothers me a bit though; maybe it's the "and also", but something makes it sound almost like an afterthought. Also, the first stanza confuses me, but that doesn't matter either. With the second stanza, I can relate to the need to stop keeping up appearances, just de-stress and be myself for a change (if I can even find that).

Me? I just carry everything around with me, which gets tiresome sometimes (see Lose Control, Evanescence) but I prefer it to the alternative.

[darktyranitar]

This following poem is basically based on Sabaton's Metal Machine. Notice a pattern here?

Yup, there's fic titles in here! See if you can find all 38 of them (counting out the one that are repeated more than once; be aware that one line may contain more than one title).

Wrath of Fire

Make a move
It’s the war of the forum
Kingdom heartless come;
Scattered light
An end to reason
The origin of storm

Oh, a bloody sword
And a fast paced fic;
And now an even bloodier sword
I’m guilty by design

It’s the wrath of fire
To those who still care
The demon inside
Moitié Moi-même;
It’s the wrath of fire
Do avoid water
Sooner or later
You’ll be warped and broken

Dear Katie
The punchy punchy Pokemon said
“Kachi wo Sagashite”
I know you’re thinking, “just tell me why!”
Who will save me?
I’m lost in the haze
Alone with the maiden (fish)

The word Kitt and Katt
Is tattooed on the silent man
By chance, is he experiencing metamorphosis
Or has he gone DP?

It’s the wrath of fire
Screams of pains
From the Pokemon master league
It’s all part of the divinity;
It’s the wrath of fire
We are The I Syndicate
The knights to remember;
It’s the wrath of the fire
The absolution’s reign
A sanctuary… the symmetry…

[Houndoom_Lover]

Sung to Meet Virginia. You know, that song by Train. ^-^
-----------------------


He doesn’t own a dress
Hair is always a mess
You catch him stealin’ and he won’t confess
He’s beautiful
Works his packs everyday, wait that’s Goku, but anyway
He doesn’t care about that, hey, he think he’s beautiful
Meet Vegeta
He never compromises
Hates babies and surprises
Wear Leotards when he exercises, ain’t it beautiful?
Meet Vegeta
When he wants to be the king
He just goes Super Sayain
His hair starts glowin’ as he screams
He really wants to be the king
Dad was a Sayain King, Mom’s been dead since chapter one
Brother is a fine hero of planet Earth
Here he is on the Phone just like you
It’s the real thing
He hates to sit at home, unless it’s Sunday
Meet Vegeta
When he wants to live his life
He just thinks about his wife
Hair starts glowing as he screams
I don’t really wanna die
No die - I don’t really wanna die- no die
He only drinks Millers at midnight
The moment is not right
His timing is quiet unusual
His confidence is tragic
But karate like magic
In the shape of a fist
Painful
Meet Vegeta
I don’t wanna
Meet Vegeta (Heeey,hey,heey)
When he wants to be the King
He just goes Super Sayain
When he wants to live his life
He just thinks about his wife
Hair starts growing as he screams
I don’t really want him to be a king
I don’t really want him to be a king
I don’t want him to be a king
I really don’t wanna die

[mistysakura]

So:

Make a move, War of the forums, Kingdom heartless, Scattered lights, An end to reason, The origin of storms, Bloody sword, A fast paced fic, Bloodier sword, Guilty by design, To those who still care, Demon inside, Avoid water, Sooner or later, Warped and broken, Dear Katie, The punchy punchy Pokemon, “Kachi wo Sagashite”, Just tell me why, Lost in the haze, The maiden (fish), Kitt and Katt, Tattooed, The silent man, Chance, Metamorphosis, Gone DP, Screams of pain, The Pokemon master league, Divinity, The I Syndicate, Knights to remember, Absolution’s reign, Symmetry = 34 fics I recognise. Not bad. That was a fun read.

Anyway, a remake of Death Sonnet -- Untitled and Solitude. I tried to expand more on stuff in Solitude this time, because I agree with Brian that last time everything was a bit rushed.

Tightrope

Suspended, we tread a precarious path:
We play at life; death, in ambush, awaits.
“It must be so,” we whisper, yet the wrath,
In our delusions, leaves unscathed our fates.

Behold the crafted marble monolith –
Stroke the cool white surface ‘neath our skin.
Bouquets of flowers sweetly blooming, with
Six feet between them and the corpse within.

But yet, at times the scythe doth strike a blow,
The chill so close we shiver in its wake.
Our tears, etched with mascara, freely flow;
They sleep alone, their vision turned opaque.

The tightrope holds; eternities away
The abyss seems; yet one heartbeat astray…



Solitude

Some choices are forever,
like being alone.

Wandering
a metropolis, tracing a path
unique, unknown to all
save accidental strangers
straying into sudden, intimate presence.
A mumbled ‘Sorry’, as scruffy sneaker tumbles
over polished leather. Unheard apology
fading into nothing, leaving once again
a cloak of safe anonymity.

A date
on a table for one,
savouring silence free from squabbles
over bill-paying alternatives.
Dining at one’s leisure, the tongue
relishing every succulent bite,
the ears unobstructed by endless chatter.
Every sense focussing
the stillness the silence the wafting aroma the heat the juiciness
salt and pepper are company enough in this meditation.

Walking home
alone in darkness,
rejecting the advances of the night
its smoke-filled dance floors
crowded with mingling strangers.
Doing away with the art
of "How do you do?"
"Nice weather today."
"And, um, so..." mock conversation
struggling mid-sentence.
Apparently uncaring, grasping
the impermanence of the spoken word.

Company is overrated.

So are 'choices' -- merely synonymous with 'habits'.
Some habits never die.

[darktyranitar]

Hehe. I had fun making that one too. Anyway, I made a mistake: it's actually 37 fic title in it (I mistake Wrath of Fire for my first fic - Dragon Flame - when it is actually the original title for the aforementioned fic. Moitié Moi-même was a fic by Toxicity that got deleted when TPM moved, and Who Will Save Me? is a one shot by Bulbasaur4 that is written way when TPM was in Ezboard (or something like that)

By the way, good poem, Ada. I enjoyed it.

[mistysakura]

Thanks, Faiz! Glad you liked it.

Finally, the song Rain Eternal is done. The bugger took eight hours to record and mix (damn computer programs screwing audio up). The best thing about the recording is easily the gorgeous Steinway and Sons the piano part was recorded on (yay to university resources), as opposed to the dodgy mp3 player it was recorded with (great player, but not exactly stellar recording equipment). I'm happy with the melody and the arrangement (although most of it's 'let's throw in whatever random notes we can think of!'), and I'm pretty happy with the lyrics as well. It's when they're put together that problems arise. The music's distinctly... girly. Weak. Argh. Although that could just be the voice. It might work better with a boy singing. And the less said about my pianoa dn vocal 'expertise' the better.

Have a listen: http://audio.xanga.com/mistysakura/d3f641238722/audio.html Please don't sue me for hearing damage.

Any comments, criticisms, musical bashing greatly appreciated. Be as harsh as you like.

[dratinihaunter13]

Wow, first of all congrats on "completing" something like this. Had to take a lot of work and do-overs, so that alone's impressive.

Haha, I like how the end got hard and staccato but it kinda came outta nowhere from the haunting tone for most of the song. there are parts where the piano gets harder and the voice more strained, but if those parts were made more staccato then the end could still have that sudden-ness but with a nice callback to earlier, similar parts.

i like the female voice here, more than a male voice i'd say. it's quiet on this recording though, especially in the beginning compared to the piano (which sounds gorgeous). with sound editing i think just bumping up the volume of the vocals would make the song stronger. that and adding in a periodic half-bar or so of staccato.

i think most people here knew you were a talented writer but now this? dang.. well done

[Gavin Luper]

Wow, Ada. Wow.

Firstly, what Martin said on the congrats.

Secondly - just whoa. I listened to it while reading the lyrics (I see you make some edits) so it was really enjoyable. I really liked the music and I think it really does work all together. I think if a boy was doing the singing it would end up possibly a bit too layered or something, maybe too heavy, like it would need heavier music with a male voice or something. I do agree that with more advanced recording or mixing the vocals could be slightly louder, but not too much. It doesn't sound weak, just gentle.

Anyway - I thought it was really cool that you kept working on this and showed us the result. Well done. It's quite an achievement, I reckon.

[mistysakura]

Martin: see, shameless plugging does work! :P Thanks for replying, and thanks heaps especially for the comments. Mm, actually the end does seem a bit out of place. It sounded perfectly fine in my head... maybe I'll just end it with a repeat of the starting bit, that would be more fitting and haunting. Actually... I just thought of something I could do! Cool. Yeah a bit more dynamics and contrast would be good too. I think the female voice suits the music better, but for the lyrics I don't know. It is supposed to be about war and all that, but I see they're really soft for that anyway.

Gavin: Thanks for replying without shameless plugging! Mm, the music would need a different spin for a male voice, yes. I'd probably make it more direct and use no layering. About the volume of the vocals, I could actually fix that easily; the software does let me do that (I cheated most of the dynamics, hehe).

... I didn't think it was that great an achievement... people write songs all the time...

[Gavin Luper]

... I didn't think it was that great an achievement... people write songs all the time...

True, but not many record them. I've certainly never seriously considered it. So it seems like a cool thing to have done.

[Shadow Wolf]

Hi everyone!

Well, I've been around reading stories and other things, and I thought that maybe, I could be part of this.

About this piece: this is something I made to see if I have some skills at writing, because it's been a long time since I wrote something. I made this in half an hour, and I decided to make very lillte changes, because I want to read your opinions. I hope that you enjoy it.




Memories



Questions breathing
Sounds you’re hearing
Never stopping
Always beating
Gives you joy
Makes you sad
Some are good
Others bad

Flash of images
Dance of words
Happy ending
Not at all
Greatest prank
Hardest fall
Fight on bank
Pick the call

Found the love
The first kiss
Did not work
Learn your miss
No regrets
Light of hope
Try again
Grab the rope

Once again
Hear the bond
Down the river
Through the pond
All the flow
That they hold
Just a blow
Leaves you cold

That’s the way
Memories are
But today
Store away
‘till next time

[Goodnight Seadra]

Mistysakura: Hehe, nice song! ^^ Really love the lyrics and music. That's good that you put a lot of effort into it!

Well, posting here a poem that I finished a few minutes ago. For some reason I was on a poetry mood tonight. XD This poem might not be great so it could be the chance I might rewrite it. Well, hope you enjoy.

Two Cities

One city is perfect in every way.
Everyone waves and says hi,
Helps and cares.
No crimes and jokes,
Lies and dramas.
-I always visit there.

One city is not perfect.
Everyone cries and kicks,
Shouts and trembles.
No apologies and hugs,
Truths and returns.
-I am always there.

One city always makes me smile.
One city always makes me stronger.
-That city can be stronger.


To not make this explanation long, it is basically about the mentality of someone. Yes, going in our little world can make us happy, but won't last forever. Eventually we have to face those 'bad days' in the real world and in order for us to get through it, we have to make ourselves get stronger, get used to and improve our mentality of the problems we have.

I hope I made sense O.o;;;.

[mistysakura]

Don't worry, you make perfect sense. More sense than I ever do. Actually, when I read the poem, I thought it was about perspective -- how one city is all happy and perfect and one city isn't, but from a different perspective the imperfect city is equally valued because it teaches you to be stronger. But your explanation makes just as much sense. I like the simplicity of the poem, how it's so sure of what it's saying and how it doesn't have to hide behind big words. I like how it's all symmetric as well. I thought 'or' would have sounded better than 'and' in lines 4-5 and 10-11 though, because 'and' is generally more positive, used for things you have.

Yep, I enjoyed it. :P

[Gavin Luper]

I quite liked your poem, Goodnight Seadra. I liked the use of contrast because that's a technique I like to use, too. Though I admit I didn't get the intended meaning of "Two Cities" until I read your notes at the end.

Ada - I really liked the reworkings of your two poems. The death sonnet - "Tightrope" now - was beautiful - I can't even remember if I read it properly the first time, or even if I knew how to read a sonnet at that stage. In any case, I found it really evocative: your use of imagery worked superbly in evoking the meaning. I admit, though, I faltered with the rhythm on the last line - might've been the semi-colon that threw me off, or the word 'abyss'. That might've just been my limited experience with reading sonnets though; on the whole, it was very good.

"Solitude" was very atmospheric too, and kind of resigned to that loneliness, or something. Maybe that's just my reading of it.


*********

Anyway: I've written another "poem", though I'm tentative about calling it poetry, I don't know why. It kind of proceeds from the questions asked in Daimler (or maybe just the last one), but not exactly, and that's not how I thought of it when I wrote it; and the "answers" are more choices than anything. It's quite structured, too, though I wonder if maybe it might take a couple of readings before it becomes clear what's being said. Though this was intensely personal, towards the end I felt like I wasn't just writing for myself, at least not entirely (maybe that's presumptuous or pretentious, but I don't think it is a terrible stretch). In any case, it helped a lot to write this.

The Choices

You could divulge your deepest darkest
You could be as honest as the day you were born
You could see the utter revulsion in their faces
You could realise there are worse things than disgust

You could talk about your clinical vexations
You could admit to needing some kind of help
You could be called a weak excuse for a man
You could realise there are worse things than unmanly

You could do away with your coping mechanisms
You could stop saying what you think you ought to
You could stop numbing yourself when challenged
You could realise there are worse things than feelings

You could accept what's beyond your control
You could be OK with all parts of yourself
You could be called names by everyone you know
You could realise there are worse things than judgement

You could drink yourself into a nightly stupor
You could sedate yourself with untold female pleasures
You could build yourself a hard courageous body
You could remain strapped to adolescent crutches
You could remain fearful of your feelings and processes
You could become unusually stoic and reticent
You could isolate yourself and be isolated
You could never ask yourself another question
You could go mad from endless uncertainty
You could burn with shame amassed since age 14
You could take all your secrets to an early grave
You could realise nothing at all.

[Shadow Wolf]

This is another short piece I made. I hope to keep working on it to make it better, altough I feel like I shouldn't keep making poetry.




A poem for the world


I give the best of me, in order to create
A poem for the world, a masterpiece with fate.
I wish with all my heart, to make the strongest piece,
To put the stars on earth and bring the love with ease.
I wish I could impress the readers of the world
With power to steal stress with every single word.
I want to use my rhymes in union with my soul,
To spread the faith and hope from Washington to Seoul.
I wish to make a piece for someone to enjoy,
To fill a person’s life with happiness and joy.



Haven't you ever felt like words have the power to change the world?

[dratinihaunter13]

something i spit up just now
--

The best decision I've ever made will make me unhappy
Nonsensicals fingerfuck my synapses
I have to do something
Dragging myself, I claw for support familiar
But loveholds shift to sand and -

and I arch back into a snarling loneliness
All I have is my decision, and I guard it like a wild animal mother
No one can backhand me hard enough
Before I stalk off never to be seen again
Only heard from.

[mistysakura]

Gavin: mm, I agree that the flow of the couplet doesn't work. It's definitely because of the semi-colon, which broke up the lines unnaturally. On the one hand, I think it makes the lines sound more hesitant and uncertain; on teh other hand, it doesn't fit well with the rest of the poem. Eh, I'll make up my mind on that.


About Choices, I know what you mean when you sya that by the end of something, you're writing for more than yourself. It's like you've discovered some truth, some new understanding in the process of writing it, and by writing you hope others might see a little glimmer of it too. I don't think that's presumptuous; hey, it's just your take on things, right? About the actual poem, I found it extremely powerful. The structure really helped; normally that degree of repetition would annoy me, but is this case it reinforces the multitude of choices you have. The way I see it, the first four stanzas have a more concrete structure and they show an attempt at reasonable analysis, but in the fifth stanza that all goes down the drain and all the choices are just tumbling from your mind and there's all this chaos... until the last line. Which I see as a statement that it's better at least to have learned something from this confusion than to have realised nothing.

Um, yeah.

shinypkmnchaser: Of course words have power to change the world. It might be a more subtle change than, say, a peace treaty, but... what are peace treaties made of? And the people who write peace treaties, where do you think they got their vision of peace from? Words. Something someone once said to them, something they read somewhere. Perhaps something they've experienced which they haven't directly put into words... but it will affect everything they write. So don't stop writing poetry, dude.

I like the optimism in your poem. I thought the flow in particular was good,a dn the use of regular metre helped with that. Some of the rhymes felt a bit icky though; for example, when I read 'from Washington to Seoul' my first thought was 'you just chose that to rhyme, didn't you?' I like a poem where every word has its importance and isn't there just to rhyme or fill out metre (hehe, been guilty of that too many times). Overall, good job though.

Martin: Yay, new writing from you! I must say that I don't really get this one... but then again, I don't get a whole heap of stuff, so don't mind me. I sense there's something about the duality between loneliness and engagement, but that's about it. I like the imagery though, adn the choice of words which gives the narrator's actions a wildness and almost feralness. I really like the imagery of lovehonds shifting to sand and everything slipping away. The first line doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the poem though, in terms of tone and stuff.

[Chris 2.1]

Deadline

Why do they call it a deadline?
Why?
I don't want to be dead when I reach the finish line;
I don't want a line drawn around me when I'm dead,
I certainly don't want to sweat out my work so as to collapse down, dead, exhausted from tapping and clapping all night.
What sort of 'line' is that to aspire to? It's already dead.
I'm going to call it a lifeline,
Because when I meet my 'line'
I'd like to think
I have some life left.

[Gavin Luper]

I quite liked your 'Deadline' poem, Chris. Quite ironic or something. I can totally relate to ... all of it. Damn uni work. Hehe.

I enjoyed 'A Poem for the World', too - I reckon a lot of writers wish they could actually achieve something with their words, whether it's a feeling or a thought within another person. Actually, maybe all writers want that. Why else would we make anything we write viewable to other people?

Martin: OK, I thought that was a really good poem. The first time I read it I didn't really get it - maybe I still don't - but I've warmed to it more now. I thought the first two lines were kick arse. Just ... awesome. The rest of the piece was pretty vague, to be honest, like I'm missing all the important information. Maybe it works better that way, though, so the reader can project their own interpretations onto it. "Dragging myself, I claw for support familiar" - I really liked the weakness and desperation of that line. And "no one can backhand me hard enough" = awesome.

OK, here's something we had to do in one of our workshops at uni - write a pantoum, which (for those who haven't heard of it before, cause I know I hadn't) is a poem utilising certain conventions of repetition to effect some meaning. This feels like a slightly soulless poem, because it's not personal - we were told to write ten random lines of poetry and then use them in a certain way. So it's a bit detached.

White

White like her grandmother's bones
She's been told she must be
To kick up charcoal dust in her wake
Black as night, hammers the final nail

She's been told she must be
As a child, all pigtails and fair skin
Black as night, hammers the final nail
Those branches from which her brothers swung

As a child, all pigtails and fair skin
The drizzle clears among the yews
Those branches from which her brothers swung
She burns so easily in the sun

The drizzle clears among the yews
The hated porcelain tears run
She burns so easily in the sun
A scornful statue in the shade

The hated porcelain tears run
She's been told she must be
A scornful statue in the shade
White like her grandmother's bones.

[Toxicity]

In a weird way, I like your poem, Gavin. Makes me think of the icicles left over from a long winter being washed away by a warmer spring rain. Maybe because it's spring for you in Aussieland, even if it's autumn here? :P

As for myself, I bet it's a shock to see me posting here, at least in this thread. But later on (read: mid-to-late senior year) I realized that my better subjects were the ones with which I could think and create, and figured I wasn't so bad. Although maybe I could work beyond having a lot of personal aspects that would influence said creativity.

And on the note of personal incidents and creativity, this was something I put together after a recent series of conversations with who I have to consider the best "in real life" friend I've ever had. For those who don't know me "well enough," I'll explain it without revealing too much: there's as many similarities as there are differences; even then, we both manage to get along well and know each other well - maybe too well.

I can find this strangely relative to Daimler and The Choices, also by Gavin. Also, there's two sides "voiced" in this work, albeit irregularly (and not one "stanza" speaks for just one side). If you do manage to determine which side is voiced where, you'll be rewarded with one free internet.

That One Day
Tell me a story
Like old times
You know what I mean
Where we were joined in laughter
when we weren't joined in tears
Even without tears?

You know that when I say this
I'm not pushing you away
It's only the shock because
It's just not the same
This new-found distance
But you know that when I can
If I can
I'd take what I would've gained
And give it back
Just to be around you again
That one day

Believe me; it's not entirely my fault
The days aren't the same
Long, irregular clocks
Much unlike the simplicity of before
I know what you mean
Even when I'm sitting
Waiting
I know I'll probably not see you
Unless I try

The sacrifices are a bit of the same
Yet you shouldn't be worrying
I know, yet I'm willing
It's all I have left to try
When here it's as if
I'm not trying at all

I remember seeing you in mornings
Drifting, barely there
Sometimes it seemed like only I
Could bring you back to your feet
And I thank you for that
Yet in some oddly similar way
You always chose to go into that river
The rainbow fish
In a stream of royalty and riches

And even then, I know it wasn't you
It was a lifeless tree, small and coated black
Her thin branches keeping those she caught
Close to her, and clinging elate
Keeping you closer after letting me go
I wanted to escape; this I told always
And when she was finally uprooted
I didn't know that it was too late

It's behind us now
Shouldn't be that big of a concern
And even then, I still can't help but worry
Will we ever actually see each other again?
Hear that timid voice?
The unusual comfort of a simple hold?
Scary enough, I admit to feeling the same
Although you have your issues
And I've got mine

How have you been?
I've just been in thought
Maybe too much thought
Like I assured you
Don't worry; I'll be okay
Even if I've been heading downward since departure
It'll be all put aside
That one day

[mistysakura]

Chris: Nooo! Deadlines! Hehe, I reckon they're deadlines because we're dead if we don't meet them. I love your take on them though. We're working so hard to meet deadlines, but what's the point if we can't take a breath of fresh air after?

Gavin: I guess I see what you're saying about it being a soulless poem because you were basically told to do things a certain way. But I reckon it'scool to experiment with stuff like that, and if it gets incorporated into future writing it will have the effect and not be soulless. I really like the poem though; I like the feeling that everything's linked to everything else, the frustration that keeps going round and round, the links to the past, the imagery... And I like how 'she's' static, a statue, being told what she must be, and there's all this action going on around her. I must say, I'm lost as to what the poem's trying to say though, although I feel like I should because everything's so concretely laid out and the repetition's screaming "look at me, can't you see what I'm saying? At least the second time round?" :P

Toxicity: I really like how you've portrayed this relationship. The distance between them now (well, I suppose not distance, but something's changed) and what I see as this thing that's happened between them that they're dancing around and not talking about. I didn't see that there were two sides being voiced though; it wasn't obvious to me, probably because I don't have all the background info. I like the image of the long, irregular clocks (anything to do with Dali?) and the rainbow fish.

[Master of Paradox]

A poem inspired by YouTube, of all things...

Today
I saw someone
Complete the old X-Men arcade game
On one credit.

It impressed me and saddened me
At the same time.

Impressed me,
Because I used to play that game
All the game when we were kids
And never beat it.

Saddened me,
Because I found myself thinking,
"Wait until I tell him!"
And that was when I realized
I can't even remember
The last time we spoke.

[darktyranitar]

I do like the poem, Laura; although like Gavin, I can't really see the 2nd side. Neverthlessa, it was a good read.

This is just something that has been playing in my mind for a while now. I do think it sounds a bit like preaching... but eh.

Don’t put out the fire!

Here I am
Trying to put out the bush fire;
And I can’t forgive myself
If I were to close my eyes
And turned my head away
Letting the fire spreads
Until it becomes a wildfire;
I do detest them
The ones who started the fire,
The ones who think that
A little bit of fire
Is harmless

But no,
Not only will the fire burn them
But we, the spectators
We shall feel the heat, too;
And yet, we pretend
That the fire will not harm us
At all

The ignorant, they mocked me;
Sneering, they said,
“If you are so good,
Why should you be putting out the bush fire?
Put out the blazing fire,
Why don’t you?”
I went silent;
No, it was not that I was afraid of them
It was because I was disappointed,
Disappointed that they were so blind
To not see that the so-called “bush fire”
Had now but turn into a blazing inferno
That had stretched and reached the sky
Burning furiously

And what is this?
I hear one can retain their purity
Even after they had stained themselves;
Can’t they see that they are no different
Than an egg?
Once broken
It can never be mended

And as for the counterpart,
They think of themselves
As an onion;
It doesn’t matter
How many layer you peel
Because, in the end
The onion remains an onion

But remember,
When God said “be!”
It shall be!

Woe to us!
How much death must we see?
Do we want to see more beast
Roaming free on the street?
How much unborn lives must be taken,
In cold blood?
Tell me, is it right
To sell our honour
For the sake of progress?
Do we not fear His wrath?

So, listen to me now!
Put out the fire!
Yea, put out the fire!

[Gavin Luper]

I'm glad you found some kind of meaning or convergence in Daimler and The Choices, Toxicity. I wish I could claim a free internet, but I couldn't discern the voices in That One Day.

Okay, so, I've written something that isn't completely abstract or overly introspective or depressive. I wouldn't go as far as to call it a 'love poem', but it's vaguely in that direction, I spose. I know it probably has no rhyme or meter or anything, but I don't claim to be a good poet or anything: I was really just writing free verse kinda stuff.

Portobello Girl

There you are girl
Right out of the darkness you appeared
Emerged with a laugh on Portobello Road
Fell into step right beside me

Your deep brown eyes
Searched me for traces of similarity
Found the connection you longed for
Saw it stare you back, hard and alight

And my beer can
Accelerated the enthusiastic exchange
Of hard rock and hilarious 80s films
So unlikely in a place so untreaded

My fear left me
We crept nervously into that shared room
Sure they were all asleep or passed out now
You sweetly invited me into your bed

I roared that night
For everything that had been said against me
For the animal bursting to get free from my chest
For the sheer heat and pleasure of it all

And you were more
Than my honestly affectionate words let on
You gave me a bubble to sleep in that night
You deflected the caving in of my torturous walls

I still regret
Not kissing you by that Amsterdam canal
Where we divulged innermost philosophies
But you had your train to catch, and I mine

And your sad eyes
Linger in my troubled midnight recollections
Not unwelcome; they somehow give me hope
Knowing, once, that we existed; that we were.

[Weasel Overlord]

Hello you magical, critiquey people! Now, I'm doing something different this Christmas, that being sticking a poem I wrote on the front of homemade Christmas cards. I'm slightly worried that people will think it's pretentious or whatever, and I make no claims to like any poetry I write, but when I started with this, my brain said it should be a poem. The first verse started out entirely as a line of prose, but it nagged and kicked me until I teased it into a poem. So what I'm saying, I guess, is this: is this good enough for my entire flat of 23 people to see, as well as my rather huge family? Or should I dispose of it, only to show it to my creative writing class?

S'called:

Winter's Footsteps.

Snow falls,
like so many autumn
leaves,
blanketing the ground
with perfect pale.

All sound
dimmed and soft,
save the crunch of
Winter,
her footsteps a clear trail
in pristine snow.

[mistysakura]

You know what? Family and friends think your writing is wonderful even if it sucks. So it should be your creative writing class you're worrying about. The good news is it doesn't suck. I like it. The crisp imagery reminds me of haikus. I really like the personification of winter. The comparison of snow falling with autumn leaves bugged me though; the reference to autumn threw me totally off the wintry atmosphere.

Gavin: I get what you're saying abourt it not quite being a love poem. Usually those are more along the line of odes, but this was more about the connection you had with her. I liked it; my favourite line was "And my beer can/ Accelerated the enthusiastic exchange..." A bit brain-dead at the moment, can't come up with intelligent things to say.

Faiz: Mm, very passionate. I like the imagery of the fire and the best roaming wild. I didn't get the onion metaphor though. About the egg metaphor, is it saying that people think they can be forgiven for their sins, but that will never be?

[Gavin Luper]

Weasel: I like it. At first I thought maybe it ought to be prose, because I could imagine it as such ... but when I tried reading it as prose, it lost the charm it has in its present form. I especially liked the "perfect pale" ... that just fitted so beautifully. I reckon go ahead and share it with all your friends and family. At worst, they'll think you're pretentious, maybe slightly weird; at best, they'll consider you some kind of edgy, creative genius or something.

Ada: The creepy thing about that poem is, I hadn't spoken to that girl in quite a few months. Then, about a week after I wrote Portobello Girl, she got back in touch out of the blue and we've been in pretty regular correspondence since. Really weird timing.

[Weasel Overlord]

Oh, hot damn. In my gazillions of redrafts, I've just got rid of "perfect pale". Buggeration! Oh well, here's the (possible)50th draft (of the 1st verse, anyway). I decided that every other word to describe snow was cliché, hence the quartz imagery...

Winter's Footsteps.

Snow falls
like quartz.
Tumbled
by the wind,
it eclipses the ground
with flawless crystal.

All sound
dimmed and soft,
save the crunch of
Winter, her footsteps
a clear trail in
pristine snow.

[Gavin Luper]

Argh. But I loved 'perfect pale'! :keke:

OK, so I don't know which version I like better. They're both very good. Even though it is cliché, the blanketing worked nicely; at the same time, eclipsing the ground is a nice unusual way of putting it. However, I didn't click with the quartz metaphor for some reason ... I just imagined big rocks of quartzite mineral falling from the sky like projectiles, instead of shimmery snowflakes, which I'm guessing is what you were going for.

That's my tuppence anyway ... I'm not great with poetry or anything.

[Weasel Overlord]

Hahah, lumps of quartz, that image amuses me for some reason. You see, this is the reason I don't write poetry. Cos I have to do so many gosh-be-damned redrafts. I think I might just say to hell with it and keep the quartz. Most of the people I'm sending it to aren't... literature-inclined anyway, so they probably won't think anything of it. :D Thanks for the help, guys! And now... it's back to drawing snowflakes and stupidly fancy 'S's and 'A's... joy.

[Toxicity]

Thanks for all the commentary on the last poem, guys. But I have another one.

This one is more of an abstract metaphor derived from a recent video game with surging popularity. And if you get the title before you read the first stanza, you'll understand what question I'm referring to.

Answer for Haddaway

Love is the cake from society's kitchen
Its forms are many, ranging from
Dark, tragic chocolate to mother's yellow from scratch
Even zany, rare strawberries and sweet, simple cheesecakes, all of which
Pass through the heart's lips and quench the cravings
Of even the hungriest of souls.

The cake can be taken away
And the soul loses a will to live
A necessity, rather, with lips cracked
And hope given up for dead as
They battle one another for love
With their own form of silverware
Yet even with love available
Her partner Discord is there
Much like the man and his wife
To present broken promises
And disarray:

Souls will take more they should
Sadistic greed giving them pleasure from watching the neglected fight
Others, even mothers, will deny rights to love
Leaving hungry children to fend for themselves at night
And the frailest falling first
Fussy souls even demand a specific cake, even if unavailable
Without a single opposing word and without care
For those broken along the way
Yet if love is unconditional and shared, why do some souls cry?
Because they began to realize that the cake is a lie.

(joke ending: Hooray for repeating metaphors!)

[Gavin Luper]

Toxicity: I don't have a clue what the video game is, but I liked the poem. And the repeating metaphor. Love as a cake is a warm, comforting kind of image; and I suppose the reverse slots in perfectly then, doesn't it? Lack of love is like being hungry, kind of - which you alluded to in the line about the hungry children left to fend for themselves. Which is an emotive image in both the literal sense and metaphorical one. I wasn't sure why these people realised the cake was a lie though, but nonetheless, I really enjoyed the poem.

+=+=+=+=+=+

This is something I wrote the other day. It's about a family member who frustrates me to the point of giving up on him entirely.

Everything and Nothing

You're like an addict with no substance
The moment things start to go wrong
You grab onto any human
You can get your hands on
And you remind me of a lost bird
Trapped in a classroom full of windows
Swooping and attacking
Your very own reflection

I'm frustrated by your ways
And I fear you'll never change

My advice is lame when it comes to you
My sympathy thin when it comes to you
No offer of love will ever get through
If you do everything and nothing for you

You're like a drama king on a revolving stage
Always waiting in the wings to swoop
But the limelight is old
And your audience is not amused
And you think you're such a man
Full of surly silences and cursing
Just like an immature kid
(If you were to ask me)

I'm frustrated by your ways
And I think you'll never change

Common sense is dumb when it comes to you
Love is impotent when it comes to you
No offer of truth will ever get through
'Cause you do everything and nothing for you

If I told you what I know and what I have seen
I'd hope it would open your eyes too
But these observations mean everything to me
And absolutely nothing to you

My advice is lame when it comes to you
My sympathy thin when it comes to you
No offer of love will ever get through
If you do everything and nothing for you

[Shadow Wolf]

Hey all, here I am!
and here we go. Life's waiting to begin!

WO: I compared the quartz with snowflakes, since that is a kind of snow, isn't it? I haven't seen snow, except in movies so I'm not sure. Anyway, I liked tha poem, 'cause it gave me some kind of a cool feeling. :cool:

Toxicity: This poem had me thinking of two things repeatedly: love, hunger, love, hunger, love hunger,....

I am looking for the reference, but I only get to the song "What is Love?", bummer. :(

Anyway, cool poem! :)

Gavin: O_O The eternal conflicts of a human being. This can be compared to many things, but I mainly compared with a person having love-shyness. For some reason, the drama king metaphor made me chuckle. Awesome!

I'm not good at criticism, so I just praise the poems. :D



This is something derived from nature. I tried to do this on free verse, but a friend of mine told me that I always use rhymes, even on free verse. So yeah, I'm trying not to use rhymes, jeje.

Anyway, here's the poem. Hope you enjoy it.

The flow of life


It’s time to rise…to rise to her.
She warmed his soul
And now, he feels so light,
He feels like flying,
He’s feeling her


But then…it happens!
Because of them,
He doesn’t feel her.
But why they do this?
They make him feel so cold.


He must go far from her.
He feels so bad for doing this.
But he does not have other choice.
Because of them,
He must fall back.


It’s all still lost?
He cannot be like that forever.
He needs to find a way.
There must be one!
Not all the hopes are lost.


He doesn’t feel so heavy now.
He found a way to her.
It‘s not an easy road,
But he can overcome it.
For her, he'll do just anything.


The road was hard,
But he is back again.
Because of her,
He didn’t lose the hopes.
And now, he’ll try again


She gave him hopes before the wrath.
And that’s enough for him,
He’ll try to go through them.
He’ll get to her.
He’ll rise again.

[Houndoom_Lover]

I'm feeling kinda sad...no, not sad, I'm feeling strange. Its a warm feeling inside me, thinking of these thing that make me feel warm inside. It has destroyed my sadness, my anger, my empitness. I need a title for my fanfic-

-------

The nights grows long
As the heart grows cold
And as we grow older and move a part
I always want to be in your heart
In your heart
In your heart

A Kingdom, of you and me
Can be all that we need, you see
Can you find, just one more time
With you and me
We’ll make a Kingdom of our hearts
You and me, a Kingdom

I’ll be your King, and you’ll be my Queen
We’ll have a court of our memories
Can you find it in your heart?
To fill in the moat, and let the bridge down
I want to be in your heart

The nights grows long
As the heart grows cold
And as we grow older and move a part
I always want to be in your heart
In your heart
In your heart

A Kingdom, of you and me
Can be all that we need, you see
Can you find, just one more time
With you and me
We’ll make a Kingdom of our hearts
You and me, a Kingdom

Just you and me, someday you will see!
That’s really all we’ll need
You and me, in our Kingdom of Hearts.

----
Kingdom Hearts is a cool game.

[mistysakura]

Okay, I'm sick of this poem sitting on my desk. Not fully happy with it, especially the last verse, but maybe clicking the 'Post' button will leave some inspiration. Comments to other poems will come later, I swear, when it's not 12:30 am with work in seven and a half hours.


Cocoon

A still suspended snapshot life
you nightmare while leaves rustle by
You sleep in my palm while I wonder
if the silk renders you blind
from vultures swooping from the skies
as carrion tempts their bloodshot eyes
In prison, does your heartbeat drive
instinctive ignorance, muffled lies?

When dewdrops freeze your fragile veins
do chills creep through your silent core?
I dust snowflakes off you to see
if shift in seasons touch your days
Are you in debt to threads that bind?
Winter hails your apocalyse
Old stillborn, will you strangle safely
while it robs your life unlived?

Watch as the reborn test their wings
A ghostly shell, you hang alone
Beneath your brittle mask, I yearn
to know the moth or buttefly
Will violets bloom your fluttering days?
Will flickering flames wither your wings?
Will you survive the trap you weave?
Have you retreated to the grave?

Is that why you shy from the light,
afraid your soul will shed its skin?
Scared to exhale your treasonous breaths
Tighten the noose to hold them in
As air grows thin and dreams recede
as harsh nature your dim life reaps
In bonds you refuse to release,
ask: have you ever truly lived?

[dratinihaunter13]

ada- i like the escalation in questions by the stanza. it gives the poem progress, which is important in this one's case, cuz most of it is observing something stationary and reflecting. i like the meter in this poem for it's natural flow and the interruptions within it. they seem to come at the correct places. iambic words finish some key lines - recede, release, unlived, alone. gives the questioning tone more urgency. as for the last verse i know what you mean. have you ever truly lived is such a common idea to end on, for a poem that has so many unique ways to express reflections. other than that though, i thought it did the trick ;)

--
"Meltdown"

Two people two feet apart.
One still, staring at the screaming other's skin-
It's loosening like candle wax oozing
Through pores never before open
Eyes swallowed by runny gobs of mascara.
Two people two feet apart.
One still gawking, stupid
Until the inhuman tan-tinted puddle settles.
And there's nothing left to look at.

[mistysakura]

Toxicity: I like the metaphor! The first stanza was described really yummily. How the metaphor extended itself, with hungry children being deprived of love and greedy souls abusing love, was also great. You lost me a bit though, for example with the statement that the cake is a lie, and fussy people demanding a specific cake which breakng others along the way. The first one I just didn't get, while the second I thought didn't really fit the metaphor of cakes. (Since when was anyone hurt in the search for a cake?) The metaphor might have extended itself a bit too far there. Overall, great job.

Gavin: So catchy. Not that I'd have it stuck in my head or anything, but the rhythm and the repetition work really well. I like how your stance gets stronger throughout the whole poem/ song (at first you say he's 'like' an addict, then you say he 'is' a drama king; the use of 'I fear you'll never change' versus 'I think you'll never change'. The imagery of the bird swooping and attacking its own reflection, and the drama king on the revolving stage, work well. I was a bit confused by the drama king on a revolving stage waiting in the wings to swoop though. So is he in the wings or on the stage? (Actually, I don't even know how one gets onto a revolving stage.) Also, the (If you were to ask me) doesn't say much to me. It doesn't add any meaning or connotation. It strikes me as a throwaway line to keep the stanza structure going.

Martin: Wow, the imagery's so powerful. Although ithe 'tan-tinted puddle' made me laugh; I don't know if that was intentional on your part. It somehow reminded me of bimbos wearing fake tan (okay maybe I'm just weird). I like the 'eyes swallowed by runny gobs of mascara' though, it portrays both the physical and emotional meltdowns nicely. Something that confused me though: are the 'one' in line 2 and the 'one' in line 6 the same? It sounds like you're saying one out of the two is staring and the other is gawking, but then who's melting? I presume then the gawking and starting people are the same person, but the 'one's confuse me.

shinypkmnchaser: I like how the image of him rising to her both starts adn ends the poem. It's touching how she gives him the power to fight back. I thought it was all a bit vague though; who are 'they'? What did they do to make him not feel her? What happens? Why must he go far from her, and how does he find his way back? Because I don't really understand what's going on, I can't relate to the characters well and so I can't sympathise with them. But maybe this is some general experience we all go through, and I'm just blind and I don't see the metaphor. In that case, ignore what I'm saying. :P

Houndoom_Lover: That's really sweet. I must say I don't know anything about Kingdom Hearts, but that didn't matter because the poem clearly portrayed how the boy adores the girl, and wishes they could build a kingdom, their home together. I reckon it'd work well as a song. It would be nice to see some more original concepts though, because 'I want to be in your heart' is a pretty common thing in a song. Something special, maybe some new idea or just some new way of saying 'I want to be in your heart' would be nice.

[Shadow Wolf]

shinypkmnchaser: I like how the image of him rising to her both starts adn ends the poem. It's touching how she gives him the power to fight back. I thought it was all a bit vague though; who are 'they'? What did they do to make him not feel her? What happens? Why must he go far from her, and how does he find his way back? Because I don't really understand what's going on, I can't relate to the characters well and so I can't sympathise with them. But maybe this is some general experience we all go through, and I'm just blind and I don't see the metaphor. In that case, ignore what I'm saying. :P

Yeah, I understand what you mean. Much of my freinds said practically the same thing that you said. Thanks to your comments, I can make the conclusions about what to change and what to improve.

Well, basically, I've had two meanings about this poem!

The scientific part!

The first: I tried to describe the water cycle in this poem by giving personifications to the elements participating in the water cycle. The main character in the poem is a drop of water. As you know, the sun(her in the poem) warms the soul of the drop of water, making it become gas (hence his "light" feeling) and thus, the water rises to the sky. But the drop of water cannot reach the sun because the gas is trapped by the clouds and the clouds are moved by the wind(they). The condensation process occurs and the drop of water becomes liquid again, falling into the earth. Sometimes these drops fall into the ice glaciers and remain a lot of time in these glaciers, but they can't be like that forever. Finally, the rough path represents the multiple things that can happen to a single drop of water (it can be found in a lake, in a glass of water, feeding a plant), but eventually, the water cycle is repeated, making the drop of water rise again by the heat of the sun. :looney:

The personal part!

Well, in this poem, I tried to explain some of the situations that a person must go through to find the love of his/her life and finally, become a loving couple.

Sometimes, a person must "fight against the current" to live with the "love of her/his life". They are motivated by the love of that "special person", but sometimes, they can lose hopes if they are brainwashed by "advices" from the everyday society(they). For example, a common "advice" could be: "She/he is too much for you", "He/she's rich, and you're poor"(or vice-versa) and thus, a person loses hope and their feelings begin to fade making them become sad (feeling empty, cold, etc....)

But it doesn't matter what other people say, the hope is never lost, and that's why they rise again and fight for what they believe is right...love. :holy:

In conclusion, this poem is a relationship between love and water.

...and that ends today's lesson. :eng101:


:idea:

I'm making a new poem, but this time, I have some help from my professor, so I can produce a good poem. (sice I cannot...repeat...I CANNOT make poems that only I can understand. )

"The only thing I know, is that I don't know a thing."

For now, take care everyone and write to you later.

[dratinihaunter13]

ada i noticed that just before i checked this page again >_< thanks! *goes to edit*
edit: and i'm glad you got the fake and bake bimbo image

[Gavin Luper]

Martin: Yeah, it was the imagery that really made that poem. I liked the sound of most of it: it was very evocative and rich and unusual, especially the image of eyes being "swallowed" by gobs of mascara. The only thing that jarred with me a little bit was the "tan-tinted" part. That line itself was awesome, but just that word sounded like it didn't fit somehow. Nonetheless, I loved the meaning of what it was conveying: this horrible creature being reduced to an inhuman puddle. The last line, too, was beautifully flat.

Ada: I think it was the way the questions were asked that made "Cocoon" so haunting. There was something bitterly self-aware about them, like the person knows something and yet is unwilling to ever let it breathe, ever escape from its cocoon. I liked the clear structure of the stanzas too, though I admit I initially thought it was a rhyming poem. Also, I thought the last questions of each stanza seemed to be more or less asking the same thing, though I suppose that kind of mounting repetition of the same tentative question conveyed that sense of something/someone remaining in a stale holding pattern for so long. Lastly, I loved the use of "nightmare" as a verb and the last two lines; this time, the colon was perfectly placed.

Thanks for the comments on Everything and Nothing. With the whole stage/wings thing, I kind of meant that he waits in the wings, always ready to leap on this revolving stage ... the same movements, the same choreography. The same consequences. Is that clearer? The (If you were to ask me) was more or less a swipe at the poem's subject: he never actually asks for advice with the intention of acting on it. I put it in brackets because he seems to think my opinions - or anyone's - unimportant.

--------------------------------------------------

Just wrote this one now:

Burning Ear

If I could be territorial, I would
I’d hunt for meat by light
Trample the scrub with my paws
Piss all over the perimeter

I'm sorry I didn’t subscribe earlier
Your snarl reckons it’s too late
Your tunnel vision digs in
You don’t want me anyway

If I could be territorial, I would
I’d root around by night
Trample the runts into the dust
Because wolves shouldn’t whisper
They ought to howl

If I could be territorial, I would
Piss all over the perimeters.

[Master of Paradox]

I considered just putting this in the Poetry Corner, but... well, it's a little long for that. I think the title says it all.


Lament of a Headless Man

You would think being a ghost
Is bad enough by itself.
I ask you, then, to imagine
Wandering the world a bodiless specter
And doing it without your head.

Please consider
How all of the senses save one
Are crammed into an eight-pound lump
Of meat and bone on rickety framework.
Barely balanced, the head somehow manages
Not to roll off your shoulders at the slightest provocation.

You know the people who think they’re clever
When they declare on forgetting something,
“I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached?”
Words cannot express how much I hate those people.

I have no memory of what caused me to lose my head.
There are a hundred ways that the neck can be severed
And the head go rolling off into the endless night.
It was probably one of them; after all,
I don’t think you can be born without a head.

I rose from the grave – not of my own volition, mind you,
There is no way I would choose to be a headless man –
And wandered off to haunt the night. I wasn’t one of those ghosts
Who cannot leave the graveyard, or who must haunt
Somewhere important to them, like their old home
Or the place where they died.
I was a ghost without a cause, a wandering haunt.
It took me a while to realize something was missing.

Yes, it is entirely possible not to realize you’re missing your head
If you happen to be a restless spirit. When you are a ghost,
Your senses are distributed across the entirety of your being.
I see without eyes, hear without ears… as for the other three,
Being incorporeal makes the senses of touch, taste and smell
A bit unnecessary. Speech is a matter of concentration
Rather than moving lips.

You are likely the better for not knowing exactly
How I am writing this.

The day I realized I had no head was a day otherwise notable
For being unimportant; as I recall, I happened to walk by a river
And realized my reflection was shorter than it should be. I promptly
Spun on a heel and retraced my steps, hoping
That I had just dropped it next to a tombstone somewhere.

No such luck. But then you guessed that, didn’t you?
I would not be complaining like this if I had found it.

I lose track of time easily as a ghost; the ways the living use
To keep track of time – hunger, boredom, weariness, the passing
Of sun and moon – mean little to the dead. But I made an effort
To calculate how long I spent hunting for my missing head.
I gave up the math somewhere around five hundred years.
Five hundred years of constantly scouring the world, interrogating the
Living who cross my path, searching for the lost part of my being.

My life before my death is a mystery to me, so I have no clues
As to how I lost my head in the first place. We dead rarely
Remember our days as the living. Our horrid state
Would not improve greatly if we knew what we had lost
In the process of joining the ghastly crew. All I can recall
Is that it was a blade – not a cannon, a rope, or a horrible
Accident of the plow – that cost me the flesh and bone of my neck.
I think it was war, but for all I know I could have picked a fight
With exactly the wrong man. Or woman, or scarecrow.

The living are not much help in my endless quest for my head.
When they see my decapitated form pass down the road,
Every time without fail they scream and run. Damn you,
Washington Irving; you and your stories have made us
The headless figures of absolute fear, even if we mean no harm.

Ichabod Crane was asking for everything he got.

Still, I cannot give up my hunt for my lost head. It burns at me
Like a hunger or thirst, the only thing that drives me as I continue
My unnatural existence. If I find it again, I may well be able
To return to my grave and sleep once again. And I assure you,
I would do that now if I had the chance. This is not fun.

It would be interesting to know if somewhere out there,
My head is lamenting its lack of a body.

[Weasel Overlord]

Hallo again, y'all! I bring more shizlars, heh. I managed to (FINALLY) finish my winter poem thinger for on my cards, so here's the finished product;

Winter’s Footsteps.

Snow falls, tumbled
by the wind.
All sound hushed,
save the crunch of
Winter’s footsteps.

Her breath on the air,
she eclipses the ground
with flawless crystal.

And secondly, my latest Creative Writing submission. We had absolutely NO prompts this week cos my tutor is a bum, so I decided to use an older one of "look at a picture and write something from that", and I mingled it with "something about the end of the world". Here's the two pictures I looked at [Behemoth (http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y157/jingleweasel/tlaBehemoth.jpg)] and [Bahamut (http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y157/jingleweasel/ffx2_page_062.jpg)] and here's the poem;


In the hidden caves,
at the end of the world -

Behemoth, he lies. Claws
curled, wings furled, and his
meteor shall clothe our poor world
in ashes.

In the hidden caves,
at the end of the world -

Bahamut, he sleeps. Scales
glimmer, fire blisters, and his
fury shall engulf our poor world
in flames.

In the hidden caves,
at the end of the world -

The Judge, she waits. Before
her, our sins are laid bare, and her
words shall encompass our poor souls
in despair.

I know, I know. It's morbid, lol. Wasn't intentional, I promise. And don't ask who the "Judge" is, cos I have no idea. It just felt like it should be in a three stanza... thing.

[Gavin Luper]

Weasel: I think I like this final revision of "Winter's Footsteps" the best. The imagery is perfect this time. Even though it's simpler than the earlier draft, insofar as it's more concise and there are fewer line breaks, the delicate atmosphere of the original remains. You really got the balance right with "she eclipses the ground with flawless crystal". No more awkward quartz-meteor images for me. So, yeah, two thumbs up. :keke:

I liked the second poem too, though I won't pretend to understand it at all.

[dratinihaunter13]

hey in a rush with work but here's the collection of poems i been working on. they all go together, so i'll call the whole thing

Affair

“Pink Padded Room”

Finally, I go insane and she follows me,
Up to a room with a bed and a door
That locks we grasp and
Claw and gasp and fall and
Off come cold clothes covering her skin
So warm and swelling with a secret,
But before I let her body speak it,
I pull back and stare at
The asylum lying bare in front of me.
Sobering.
It’s over in minutes.


“Suspended”

She has me on the end of a yo-yo string,
Swinging wild.
The other end tied down around her finger,
Tight.
The whir keeps me warm while I wait to come up.

I’ve just never wanted to kiss someone so badly.


“I Like This Timing”

Two years ago this is how it would have gone.
We’re both at this party. I know Jeff, you know Danielle.
A brief introduction and a smile that lasts a second too long.
An hour later our eyes make contact again and I ask you,
“Are you staring at me?”
You tell me what? No! No, I’m not!
“That’s too bad. I had a great line if you were.”
You want me to tell you but I won’t.
“I might want to use it later, when you stare at me again.”
The rest of the words don’t matter,
We know where we’re going.
Each time we talk to someone else our gaze drifts back.
You pass it off, you let it go.
That’s when I sneak up on you.
“There’s something I have to show you.”
I lead you somewhere away from Jeff, Danielle, all of them.
I can feel you smiling at the back of my head.
“It’s this.” I face you. “It’s what you’re feeling, right now,
Knowing you and I are here alone and no one’s watching.
Do you feel that?”
I bet you haven’t blushed this red in years.
“That’s what I wanted to show you.” What I still want to show you.

And skip the months of red tape restraints and if only,
If only two years ago, skip it all in this fantastic moment –
When I grab your waist, pull you in, and nothing stops us from
Well… you know…


“Courage”

Picks up not knowing what to say,
Calls the same way,
Cries with the phone off.
Confesses and not into my embrace,
But into the man bracing himself miles away.

She without courage stands silent next to a stove,
Staring at the fireplace to remember.
What if she burned the whole house down?

But she can live for thirty years, three kids, one husband.
She can forget love alive,
Settle next to love rehearsed – be passion’s fool!

She might even only cry on holidays and birthdays,
In her walk-in closet,
Hard enough to break his heart.
Mine too, if I was still around.


“Thank You”

You fit me like a freshly ironed button-down,
Warm, smooth, so I know I look good.
My shoulders straighten, my voice gets louder,
From cuff to collar, you keep me together.

You could move away and never come back,
No goodbye kiss or hug or smile.
I’d look down, remember one night, any of them,
And that’d be enough.

When you wish me sweet dreams,
When you thank me-
You could stand any man next to me,
And I would feel luckier.

So thank you.

[Gavin Luper]

Crop's Cream

Your kiss of comfort: I smile at the thought
Dry and incomplete, my mouth awaits
Succulent sponge, all I have is yours
Let my hands warm you, harvest queen

To think, dream, articulate: I'm too exhausted
But permit me this one vice, and its grip
Lurid golden silk, be my favourite fortress
The best and only colour in my life.


+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

A reflection on my habits over the past month or so: there was an awful lot of beer.

[mistysakura]

I haven't been so excited to post something for a long, long while! This is a reworked, almost unidentifiable version of Cocoon. I'm feeling proud at the moment because the original kinda sucked :P Actually, I just took a look at the original, and it's much prettier than I remember. Just going nowhere at all. I really like this much better. Major influence: Book of the Dead by Patricia Cornwell. Not a good book, but has some interesting ideas.

Autopsy

Subject. aaaaaaaaaaaaaA cocoon. Homo sapien.

Procedure. aaaaaaaaaaThe body will not yield to questioning.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe exoskeleton resists confessions under the blade.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe technician resorts to ripping and hacking
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaathrough the layers of restraint.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe final tear glistens stagnant blood
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand careful paring reveals
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaathe first glimpse of her body
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaafrom which her skin extends in swathes,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacloaking her in a clique of armour.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHardened folds entwine her fingers --
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaathey grasp in former tension.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaSleeping foetally under the helm
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaais a woman
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawith russet hair, distinctively long eyelashes and
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa small disfiguration on her left cheek.

Findings.aaaaaaaaaaaaaCurled round and round her white neck
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalike a child's safety blanket
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaais a noose of her own making,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagrowing taut as leather.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAround her throat it creeps, choking a collapsed windpipe
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalike backwater drowning an architecturally unsound dyke.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe mottled reds of chafing betray their age --
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadays, months. Years.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaDeprived brain tissues shrink away from exposure by scalpel.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaUnder microscope nerve cells twitch at fading sensations,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawith them stillborn dreams.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaThe boundless prairie of being
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaflooded by rivers of cranium.

Suggested cause of death.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaA surrender of living.



Okay, other poems!

Burning Ear: Lost as to the significance of the title, but that could just be me (creative writing class makes me feel dumb). I really like the earthiness and pervading sense of violence (trampling the runts into the dust... ouch...) And how the second stanza hints at what he's really angry at, but he just takes it out on the world by being territorial. It's great how it gets more animalistic in each verse, especially if you compare the first and third verses. And I like the lines "Because wolves shouldn’t whisper/ They ought to howl". Oh, and thanks for the comments on "Cocoon". I liked the placing of the colon and 'nightmare' as a verb too; shame it didn't fit in the reworking. And the stale repetition was definitely me getting stuck, although if its effect worked with the poem, hey cool :P

Winter's Footsteps: You know, you don't realise how repetitve you're being until you try to rearrange events and merge similar ideas into one. I thought you couldn't have gotten any more economical with your words; clearly you can :) Yay to the falling quartz being gone (I still don't know how quartz falls). The imagery is perfect.

In the hidden caves, at the end of the world --: IApocalyptic indeed. I didn't really try to interpret this one, just treated it as a 'this is the end of the world' thing. I like how the title is really the first stanza. Very nicely structured stanzas. I did have trouble picturing how Behemoth has a meteor though. I keep picturing this Pokemon move, Ancientpower or something. I like how the impending doom changes from physical to abstract in the last stanza. I did find the wording there a bit cliched though. Not sure what I'd do about that.

Affair:

How am I going to do justice to this?

Right. It all fits together really well; it all definitely sounds like it's coming from the same person, and the flashbacks (or pretend flashbacks) link to the present prefectly. 'Pink Padded Room' has a fitting title, and the way the first sentence doesn't end and every word means action until the third last line shows the transition from mindless passion to sobering very well. 'Suspended''s lines are spaced with... suspended... tension. And the contrast between the simile and the straightforward last line works well.

'I Like This Timing': I like this title. :P Although I'm not sure the sarcasm fits with the rest of the poem, because it's all so sincere and straight from the heart. The situation is so real! But there aren't any unnecessary details either. I thought the last line was a bit forced, because the narrator doesn't sound like the type of person to start using ellipses and being vague and uncomfortable about things. (That's how I interpreted it anyway.) Although a direct statement wouldn't work there either. If this were my poem, I'd be tempted to be lazy and just stop at the second last line :P

'Courage': it suddenly makes you remember there's a third person. After the daydreams of the last part, it's all back to harsh reality. The contrast works well. I really like the line 'She can forget love alive,/ Settle next to love rehearsed". I didn't get the meaning of 'be passion's fool', because if she were a fool for her passion she wouldn't be settling to love rehearsed... I think I'm missing something. Is the narrator admonishing her, telling her to be passion's fool?

'Thank You': Wow, wasn't expecting it to end in such a positive way. And it works. It's believable. I can feel the resolution. The first two lines struck me as being a bit weird because 'fitting' is quite a physical thing. In the last part the whole physical relationship has certainly fallen to pieces, so going from that to this fitting thing was odd. But from then on, it all works. It's touching to see that he still feels a connection with her and that she still inspires him. (Obviously.)

Crop's Cream: I like it... but it sounds like it's trying too hard to find euphemisms for beer. I'm sure beer is great, but by the time it got to 'harvest queen' I found it a bit corny. Bring on the adjectives, eh? Of course, it's highly likely it's taking the piss out of odes, but in that case I personally prefer it a bit more outrageous. Hehe, lines 5, 6 and 8 are great though.

I have no more brain cells left.

[firepokemon]

Railway:

10 years ago today I was seven years old, with three of my friends, we walked along the railway, not knowing what dangers would be ahead, laughing talking about what we'll do when we grow up, having so many dreams, having so many hopes.

Walking along the railway laughing and teasing each other, having no worries at all, pushing each other and laughing our heads off, not caring, not wanting to care.

Train speeds along the track track, we're laughing, we're teasing, we see the train, the train keeps moving, wheels going round, train moving, then one of us is left on the track, he's got his foot stuck, and the trains getting closer.

And I'm screaming trying to run over to him, but they're holding me back, and theres nothing I can do, but wait for whats going to happen, and hes crying, and he looks at me, and the train hoots his horn, and he keeps looking, and he looks, and the train goes over him.

And each of those carriages going over him, blood is splattered everywhere, the train is well gone now, didn't even bother to stop, and there he is, not recognisable, and we're looking at each other, thinking it's all a dream, but it's reality.

And 10 years has past, and all I can do is think of that day, the day that changed my life. So much guilt is inside me, I could of saved him, but they stopped me. The other two they don't seem to care but I did, he was my best friend.

And that best friend is gone, and I just keep looking at those eyes, wondering if he'd still be here today, I blame myself for what happened, I knew not to go on it, my parents warned many times, the parents of my best friend, won't even acknowledge me when I'm walking down the street, and everyone else in high school is so happy, they don't seem to have the worries, and those two other friends of mine, they're in the football team, where I should be, but getting near them, just makes me swallow pity

Life changes so much in those 10 years but those eyes keep staring at me, I'm sleeping and I'm dreaming, and I picture that day in my dreams, I picture his foot getting stuck, and I picture myself trying to help, but I get held back, and hes crying and hes looking at me, and the train keeps moving and train goes over him and each carriage rides over, and then the train vanishes, and this bloodied lifeless unrecognisable body is left.

10 years ago my life has changed, but for my best friend, he never got to have a life, he never got to get his first kiss, never got to go to the Prom, never went on a date, never be the Detective he wanted to be. For he had only started life, and that life was stopped, while I have life, but I'm not using it.

Those eyes keep staring at me, in my dreams, he stares, when I'm on the bus to school, he stares, hes watching me, I can see him, I saw him and I couldn't help him. Haunted eyes keep staring, haunted eyes keep following, life must go on. But that look in his eyes, those eyes of his and then theres that bloodied lifeless body. And then theres him crying staring into my eyes. I see those eyes.

- This is a poem I posted earlier in this thread or one in the archive. Its at least 3 years old now. I still like it. I think I must have been inspired by the movie "Stand By Me". Although when I wrote it I didn't actually think about that. But I saw the movie "Stand by me" a few weeks ago and it got me thinking.

[mistysakura]

I really like it. The eyes are very haunting. The description doesn't shy away from reality, and everything is pictured in an in-your-face way. Repetition is used to great effect; it's like we see the narrator reliving the images over and over again. I think that the poem would be more effective with more specific images though. For example, in the first stanza, you describe the narrator and his friends 'having so many dreams, so many hopes' and being innocent in general, but there aren't many physical specifics and it seems like a somewhat cliched picture of childhood. Maybe if you talked about what exactly they were laughing or teasing each other about, for example, we'd be able to see the situation more clearly. More importantly, I'd like to know more about the friend. At the moment, his eyes haunt the narrator and his hopes and dreams (of becoming a detective, among other things) have been dashed. He seems to be a fairly generic person. If you put in some of his quirks (like wanting to become a detective) and things that made him special to the narrator, we'd have more sympathy with the narrator. Also, there are some grammatical things; apostrophes are left out a lot (such as 'hes' in the foruth stanza) and 'Train speeds along the track track' doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Great poem though. Beautiful emotion.

[mistysakura]

These stories are cool. We all came to TPM differently, but what matters is that we're here now, eh? Oh, starjake, LVH did end. It also had a sequel, which didn't end, and a non-Pokemon version which really didn't end. The version of LVH in the archive doesn't have the final chapters though. Ah, great times. Great fic.

I just went through the entire Poetry Corner! Hehe, I'd forgotten Leon-IH, Toxicity and Tainted's poetry slams (topic hoggers :P) and everyone's 'songs', especially DannyBoy and Tara's. Looking back, the quality of stuff in there has really increased (although of course there was brilliant stuff all the way through). I also discovered poetry I don't remember writing. How strange. The worst thing is it hasn't improved much :P. But... Martin's stuff used to rhyme! All the time! How weird is that? And man, his stuff has definitely improved through the years. I also noticed that I used to be a pretty bad critic. I think we all tend to write a lot more in-depth responses nowadays though.

To make this less self-centred, have you guys ever looked over your old writing? Memories?

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

These lyrics are based on Blind Guardian's 'Time Stands Still (At The Iron Hill)'. Note that I haven't edited them too much with my limited imagination. The short version can be found in Whack-a-TPMer v.2. The characters in this poem, even those who are based on real people, are fictional and their opinions here do not necessarily represent the real opinions of their real life models.

Time Stands Still In Whack-a-TPMer

L_P fails at dawn
Kevin is gone
And deadly the trolls reign

mr_pikachu:

"Finally I've found myself
At this forum
Gimmicks and flames I've seen here
For what I've became a mod of the lost?
Barren and lifeless TPM lies"

bridge:

Lord of all Fanfic
A mod in the night
mr_pikachu of hope
He posts in his glorious battle alone
Farewell to the valiant moderator

chorus: (repeat 2x)

The fate of TPM
Lies deep in PCG
When time stands still in Whack-a-TPMer

mr_pikachu:

"I post alone
All's in my fic
I'll dare you
Come out
You coward
Now it's me or you"

He gleams like a star
And the quality of his posts
Like a raging storm
Proudly the moderator
Challenges Mikachu
"Pathetic Whacker" he cries

Mikachu Yukitatsu:

"Slowly Mikachu
Yukitatsu appears
Welcome to Finland
You shall be damned"

bridge:

Lord of all Fanfic
A mod in the night
mr_pikachu of hope
He posts in his glorious battle alone
Farewell to the valiant moderator

chorus: (repeat 2x)

The fate of TPM
Lies deep in PCG
When time stands still in Whack-a-TPMer

The hanzi signature
Is getting closer
Swings his pencil down on him
Like a SPAMstorm
He's crushing
Down the Fanfic's
Proudest king

Mikachu Yukitatsu:

"Under my sig
So hopeless it seems
You've posted too much
Now feel the pain"

bridge:

Lord of all Fanfic
A mod in the night
mr_pikachu of hope
He posts in his glorious battle alone
Farewell to the valiant moderator

chorus: (repeat 2x)

The fate of TPM
Lies deep in PCG
When time stands still in Whack-a-TPMer

The Fanfic-king's broken
He is whacked and falls
The most proud and most valiant
His postcount survives
Praise our mod (repeat 4 times)

[starjake]

I guess I'll post my two cents...I wrote this a long time ago, and I just discovered it sitting hidden in my computer.

Soulmates

Sometimes, when God knits us together
Inside our mother’s womb
And the time comes to give us souls
He’ll find there’s not enough room

It’s because our heart is inadequate;
The soul’s simply too large
There’s too much love and perfection
There’s too much positive charge

So God must do the one thing that
He does not want to do
He takes the soul in question
And then splits it into two

These soul-halves are the perfect size
For the human heart to bear
But since these souls aren’t quite complete
They are quite worse for wear

So God makes the decision as
He splits this soul in twain
That “Sometime in the future,
These two souls will join again.”

They’ll join again in happiness
The split will be undone
The two souls that lived separate lives
At long last, again are one

Some say that love can happen
Only ‘tween husband and wife
Others say love happens
Only o’er the course of life

But I say that love grows between
These two halves of one soul
And that that love intensifies
When those two halves are whole

And so I say I love you
And I know you love me too.
For when God split our soul,
He put half in me and half in you.

[mistysakura]

This is Ada's poetry assignment (plus Conscription, which is a hanger-on/B-side of sorts. Actually, Conscription is part of a trilogy called Luna Tales, but the other two aren't quite ready yet.) The collective title is Between The Lines. I shan't blabber on about it here; if you're interested I've attached the tiny, tiny abstract I wrote on it. (Sorry, it's plain text. Ridiculous file size limit.)

EDIT: "Between the Lines" is now in an attachment. I have done this because I don't think internet archives save message board attachments, and I'm trying to make it so I can wipe everything from the net in case of publication.

Conscription

The old roller coaster knows his time. Thirty-two marching seconds up, feet shackled to the motor, millimetre after impossibly familiar millimetre. He squints and arthritis-rusted joints clank but up is the lesser of his chores, for the cogs he trusts are more ironic than the free-falling physics of gravity.

The apex was once his favourite
for the secondaaaaaaaaaasplit in balance

Now he sees nothing but routine molasses before plunging, incoming ground ear-splittingly asphalt. Whipped away at thirty-six, scarcely a wheezing breath before the centripetal flail whirs him, a top on a string, once, twice, three times. Always the same screams at forty-five.

At the end of another shift number twenty-eight, his groaning rods crackle into their joints. As the young fools laugh, relieved, he can’t help but think he is missing something.





As you may guess, Conscription didn't make it because a) Luna Tales wasn't finished b) I wasn't confident enough to put prose poetry on my assignment. Also, Element's lines are supposed to be indented (so you have the numbers in one line and everything else one space in), but the forums don't like that, so just imagine it for the moment :P That's all; all comments, as always, are very much welcomed. Praise, bashing, constructive criticism, "poetry sucks"... bring it on.

[firepokemon]

Mikachu - Interesting poem but well I need to find that tune so I can properly read it.

Starjake - That was fabulous. I don't know if it is intended to rhyme but it gives off a rhyming vibe to me. Overall, it reads really well and one gets a sense of the importance of souls. It reads beautifully.

MistySakura - Man I feel bad cause you replied heaps to my poem. But I don't really get these ones at all. I've forgotten most of what English has taught me. So not sure how your poems are suppose to work. But they are certainly intriguing particular the elements one. And you allowed me to discover a new word, "Whorls", which, I could not find in the dictionary or on dictionary.com. But then it does show up as whorl? So I'm a bit confused. Sorry I wish I could say more, but I don't get your poems.

The Conscription poem is something I can comment properly on. It has lovely use of language namely: "arthritis-rusted joints clank but up", it just has a lovely flow to it. The third part to it sounds even more wonderful with creative use of language, ie. "centripetal flail whirs him". I just think the fourth part of it seems somewhat short. Its not that its bad or anything. It just seems to finish prematurely.

-----

Another one from 2002 that I am going to post again. It requires major editing. But I thought I'd post it first unedited from 2002 and then hopefully repost it one day in an edited form. It ha a tune to it, but I couldn't describe the tune to it if I tried.

Untitled


My mother shes drinking away her fears
My father hes drinking away his
It's a tendency to drink till excess
I'll swagger home so alone

Alone in a scary world of violence
where gangs are recruiting children
children killing children
their parents getting wasted

Where it's not safe to walk the streets
20 bars on just one street
Broken glass and blood on the ground
Fights they are erupting
Mothers suddenly rising
Children running
Children dying
father's staggering
Fights they are eurpting

My mother shes drinking away her fears
My father hes drinking away his
It's a tendency to drink till excess
I'll swagger so alone

Girl heldup at knife point
Her parents at a bar
Drinking to excess
Lady where is your child?

Shes alone in a world where she fears.
Your always at a bar leaving her alone

Son adoring father
Father at a bar
Son all alone
Son wants to be like father
son follows father

My mother shes drinking away her fears
My father hes drinking away his
It's a tendency to drink till excess
I'll swagger home so alone.

It's a cycle of destruction
One way or another
Mother was once a child
Child was left alone.

End the destruction now
Dependency on alcohol
Hell it's wrong
All you mothers
All you fathers
don't leave your kids alone.

My mother shes drinking away her fears
My father hes drinking away his
It's a tendency to drink till excess
I'll swagger home so alone

My mother shes drinking away her fears
My father hes drinking away his
It's a tendency to drink till excess
I'll swagger home so alone.

It starts with One.
Have another
Broken Dreams
Broken Homes
Violence erupting
Because you left your kids alone.

[dratinihaunter13]

fp, the four line chorus definitely gives it that tune you were talking about. and they're the right four lines for this poem's chorus that's for sure. the way i saw it, mothers and fathers drinking away fears, when what the drinking's doing to their kids - that's what ironically should be frightening them most. maybe that's what they're drinking away in a sad cyclical sense.

this one's short and not sweet

"I'm a Fire Dying Down"

ash smell
firework smoke blankets the sky
my eyes star still
light touches against my eardrums
sidebyside a pillow indent, still warm
i roll in too big but it's still warm
snug like an embrace. one embrace.
i could start smoking tonight.

[Shadow Wolf]

I just popped this yesterday, but it has been on my mind. It hasn't been edited, since this is the first time I write it, but thoughts are welcome.


Cardinal love

My heart: my place.
Their love: my race.
Each person: a space.
Four corners with grace.

In East, my family
and West, my friends.
At South, my enemies.
On North, an end...

For you... for me...
For us to blend.

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

I remember from school I suck at analyzing poems so I won't comment on yours. However, you can obviously comment on mine and I like that. Here's my newest one. Almost as bad as my first TPM sig, eh?

Jumalatar epäilemättä nätti neito ajatusteni
A goddess without a doubt the pretty maiden of my thoughts
Kuulut mulle kuulut muulle isoan sinua vaan olet toisen
You belong to me you belong to another I want you but you are another's
Hän sinua koskettaa saa minä vain katsoa kauneuttasi
He may touch you I may just watch your beauty

Joyful enchantment noble nymph appearance mesmerizing
My source of pain, my sorce of strength
Kiitos että saan katsoa sinua sen pitäisi riittää mutta
Thank you I may watch you it should be enough but
Eräs sinua koskea saa
Somebody may touch you

En tiedä mikä sinussa on niin ihanaa kasvosi vartalosi luonteesi
I don't know what's so sweet in you your face your body your nature
Palvon hiuksiasi silmiäsi suutasi korviasi nenääsi poskiasi otsaasi
I worship your eyes your mouth your ears your nose your cheeks your forehead
Lost my heart to your beauty
Lost my game battle for you

Puutarhan kaunehin kukka tämän linnan kaunotar
The most beautiful flower in the garden the beauty of this castle
Läpi kaupunkien kaikukoon ylistyksesi
Through the towns let your praise echo
Jos sinua koskettaisin varmaan palaisin tai jäätyisin
If I touched you I would surely burn or freeze
Miten voikaan joku hipaista sinua ja elää kuin hän
How can someone touch you and live like he

I am swallowed
By the ocean
Of your beauty
Everytime we see

Viettelee hän tahtomattaan lumoaa hän tietämättään kumpikaan meistä ei tunteisiini
She tempts without wanting she enchants without knowing my feelings neither of us
Voi vaikuttaa
Can affect
Suomen kaunein tyttö on liian vaatimattomasti sanottu ikinä en irrottaisi
The most beautenous girl in Finland is said too modestly never would I release
Jos halata saisin
If I got to hug you

I cross fire I cross water I cross forest I cross ice
I cross mountains I cross wastelands I cross cities I cross oceans
I'm still not worthy enough to feel you what has your boyfriend done
to deserve you to feel you to be loved by you to see your grace

Välimatka välillämme ei haittaa minua uneksin haaveissani olet minun
The distance between us doesn't bother me I dream in my dreams you're mine

En saa unta näen sinut uneen vaivun näen sinut
I can't sleep I see you I fall asleep I see you
En näe sinua näen sinut näen sinut näen sinut
I don't see you I see you I see you I see you
Toivoton on rakkauteni en voi tulla tilalle
Hopeless is my love I can't come instead
Sen miehen jota kadehdin joka sinut omistavi
Of that man whom I envy who owns you
Saisin itseni kasaan saisin tunteeni sanoiksi
I wish I got myself together I put my feelings to words
Runo tämä riitä ei laulu tämä riitä ei
This poem isn't enough this song isn't enough

Vaikka toisin sinulle maat
Even if I brought you lands
Ja taivaat et suutelisi
And skies you wouldn't kiss
Vaan enhän ansaitsisikaan
But I wouldn't deserve either
Kumma että edes näen
Strange is that I even see you
Puhuvan sinun näen
I see you talking
Nauravan sinun näen
I see you laughing
Laulavan sinun näen
I see you singing
Tanssivan sinun näen
I see you dancing

On olemassa se
It exists she
Sinä jota hän ei vie
You whom he doesn't take
Ajatuksissani
In my thoughts
Olet sinä minun
You are mine
Haaveissani
In my dreams
Omistan sut
I own you

[mistysakura]

firepokemon's Untitled: I agree with dh -- great four-line chorus. The simple words chosen give the poem a childlike feel, which makes it even more poignant because of the violence it describes. I also liked the repetition because it reflected the drinking cycle that's going on, and these children are trapped in a cycle of destruction. But proofreading's always good. Also, I thought the last stanza was a bit redundant. I liked how the link between violence and binge drinking was implied throughout the poem, but then it's spelt out in the last stanza and goes cliched. Similarly, I thought the stanza beginning 'It's a cycle of destruction' was unnecessarily preachy -- what parent would need to be told to not leave their kids alone after seeing these horrific images? It's good to leave some things for the reader's imagination :) I look forward to more of your stuff; I really like this style.

I'm a Fire Dying Down: Sorry didn't get around to this sooner. As always, great imagery. I instinctively like the use of 'star' as a verb, although I'm not sure what it means -- is it a typo for 'stare'? The image of the indent in the bed is just painful. I thought the word 'smell' in the first line stuck out though. The line would have worked without it, and would possibly be stronger because it accentuates the ash. And what's with the 'light touches against my eardrums'? I didn't think they had pressure nerves to feel touch... or maybe I'm taking it a bit too literally. In any case, I don't get the image you're trying to convey there.

Cardinal love: I like the line 'four corners of grace'. It's just... graceful. The poem's simplicity has great potential. These things you're talking about -- love, family, friends -- are so fundamental, you don't need complicated images top clutter them. :) I thought the four directions thing could be developed more though. So far, they're just used as four categories in which to define 'your' life, and it also touches on 'your' personal space. But since the compass points are, well, directions, it would be interesting to develop the metaphor of how they guide your life or something.

Mikachu Yukitatsu's Untitled: Yay, foreign language stuff! It's a sweet poem. I like how he's watching her from afar and she's tempting him subconsciously. And all the images just spilling out show that he's overwhelmed by the beauty in everything she does. But I'm getting a bit of a stalker vibe :P Especially with the 'I own you' at the end, it's a little creepy. Post more though. By the way, what was your first TPM sig?

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

I have my first signature on paper somewhere, give me some time and I'll find it. Meanwhile, here's my second signature.


Tatoe hi no naka, kaminari no naka, koori no naka,
Ame no naka, yukino naka, onna no ko no kimono no naka!
MikachuYukiTatsu
Finnish -> English
Tulta ällös tukahuta, Liekkein Jumalata pyyä, -> Thou shalt not smother the Fire, not catch The God of Flames,
Saati sitten Salamata, ällös Ukon Mahtia mieli. -> Let the lightning without saying, thou shalt not crave for Thunder Might.
Et Kylmähänkähän kajoa, Jumalaa Jään hiihä älä. -> Nor shalt thou touch the coldness, nor ski after the God of Ice.
Jos saat Yhen, jos saat Toisen, kohta Kolmannen yrität; -> If thou hast One, hast a Second, immediately hast a Third try;
Tulee tuho Taivahista, hävitys myös Maaemistä! -> From the Heavens shall come havoc, devastation from the Earth, too!
Kukas tuohon kasuamahan, ilmaantuvi auttamahan -> Who is now to arise there, who shall appear to help us,
Estämähän Taivahista, hävitystä Maaemistä? -> Prevents havoc from the Heavens, quells devastation from the Earth?
Vetten Vahti kasuamahan, laulamahan Merten Herra; -> Guardian of Water is to arise, God of Sea shall sing to help;
Eipä estä Taivahista, hävitystä Maaemistä. -> Alone Guardian Song shall fail, not prevent the devastation.
Kouluttaja kasuamahan, Sep’ on Valittu, Uljas Uro; -> Mighty Trainer is to arise, the Chosen One, Valiant Hero;
Jopa estyy Taivahinen, hävitys tuo maaemistä. -> He shall even prevent havoc, quell devastation from the Earth.

EDIT: A translation.

Tatoe hi no naka, kaminari no naka, koori no naka, ame no naka, yuki no naka, onna no ko no kimono no naka!
Even in the middle of fire, in the middle of thunder, in the middle of ice, in the middle of rain, in the middle or snow, under a girl's kimono!

This poem reflects my way of thinking when I was younger.

[Cadmus]

an invitation

i open my eyes and see you for what you are
flesh and bones, blood and muscles.
i listen to you and hear you for what you are
a human like many others.
and the funny thing is ...

i open my heart and see you for what you are
a beautiful rebellion, a paradox of sorts
i listen with my soul and read the new echoes
a mystery - i'm a "junkie" - i need to unveil.
and i understand, finally ...

you are my love, you are my dream,
with you i've learned to breathe.
you are my love, you are my dream,
my agenda is not to suppress your freedom.
don't be scared of me. - "smile!" -

please, hear me.

i invite you to (come and walk with me)
i love the streets of paris (do you love them too?)
you love the trevi fountain (can you take me there?)
i invite you to (the best adventure of all)
the lights (diamonds on black velvet) can you see it?
rays of the sun (through the crying mist) can you feel it?

will you open the gates?

"oh my love", you are my fantasy,
with you i've learned to fly.
"oh my love", you are my fantasy,
my agenda is not to suppress your freedom
don't be scared of me. - "smile!" -

please, hear me.

open your heart, listen with your soul.

you are flesh and bones
("the power of ...")
you are love and sanctuary
(i am carried away)

i invite you to, a place where you've never been,
do you want to, my little explorer?
i invite you to, the best place in the universe:

a world for two.

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

OK, here is my first TPM signature from 2001. I am not sure about the capital letters, here's how I wrote it on paper back there at least.

As Articuno
Was I The Lord of Winter
In my Realm, Finland
Where The Snow covers forest
Where The Lakes are Frozen
As Psyduck was I
Hugged by Maiden Elf Misty
In Land of Immortals
Where Sun rises from Mountains
Where the Cherry Blossom Bloom
And as Magikarp I
Swam up The River Huang He
In The Empire of China
Where The Ancient Wisdom began
Where The Mighty Dragons fly

Misty was the first anime girl I ever noticed, that's why I used to be a big fan of her.

[mistysakura]

an invitation: Hey, this reminds me of PancaKe's style. She used to post a lot of poetry. Anyway, I like the details in the second verse and in the chorus (fifth stanza). The second verse has nice ways of phrasing things and the chorus makes 'you' a unique person. It's sweet. However, the use of the word 'agenda' is strange to me. To me, agenda has either business or evil (secret agenda) connotations. It doesn't fit the loving tone. Also, some of the phrases such as ""oh my love", you are my fantasy, with you i've learned to fly" sound kinda... Hallmark. Maybe the ideas could be phrased in more original ways, drawing attention to the unique qualities of 'you' and of the relationship. Keep posting! We love new people.

Mikachu: Hehe, I could read the Japanese! I was never really into sigs. But I was a Misty person, as you can tell.

[Houndoom_Lover]

Hmm, I'm feeling a little off today.


Star crossed Laser

A consequensal reaction
To a very plausible scene
A deviation of the matters
Between the you and the me
And you can take that to the bank
While the dogs bark
And marbles shout
Shave his beard
And grow it twice
There’s only a question what grows out

A tapering of meaning
Between the pressing day
A depilation of ajarring
And their awful ways
Hurry back and worry not
For you are far from home
Golden glitter ponies
Ask banana gnomes

Can you tell me secrets-that will always come true?
Is there nothing left- for anyone to do?
What’s the point of going-if you only come?
Will there be more then us-if you only run?
And what if you run-will you be caught?
And if you’re caught- will you be locked up
In a padded cell to rot rot rot rot?
Rotten oranges bring the morning spring.

When one is so lonely
Alone is all they can be
To try and be something else
Why, that’s just democracy
So burn the city!
Torch the town!
Let their screams be a mariachi band!
Who cares who comes?
Who knows who goes?
Mangoes are not daffodils.

Time ticks by-go slowly go
If you have to go-that is-I’d rather you’d stay
Yes, stay close, stay by.
Stay close, Stand by.
Stand By
Stand By
Stand By

POWER ON

[Gavin Luper]

vade mecum

is this all I’m good for?
you want to borrow my luggage and so much more
but you haven’t come around here for weeks now.
I’m not proposing a fight to tear us apart
I’d rather defuse it before it starts
and keep the ulcers as souvenirs to rehash

and isn’t it appalling
how I can be so self-absorbing?
I rock up an hour late to everything
and I lack class or the courtesy to even ring
seems I’m living somewhere up my own butt.

and all the stuff I’ve been ignoring
fundamentally abhorring
every day, in everything I make myself do
I run and it chases me

so I’m just meant to grin and bear it right?
my lot’s been cast as awkward in life
and dude there’s nothing I can do about it.
I throw a cricket ball like a girl
and my voice is too much like a constant slur
and I’m too weedy to back my mates up

and I’m so bored I’d rather be anywhere else
feels like I’m doing nothing ad nauseum
and there’s nobody more sick of my voice right now than I am
I’ve become the most self-aware hypocrite ever.

and all the thoughts I’ve been obscuring
fundamentally enduring
every day, in everything I make myself do
I dodge but it still finds me

and does it mean I don’t love you
if I can’t say that I’m missing you?
I must be the most frigid bastard.
and how am I supposed to know
what I will feel tomorrow?
it’s only OK if I stay nescient.
‘cause there’s a surly masochist
bouncing off the padded walls inside me
so many dormitory floors I’ve yet to pass out on.

and all the things that I've been doing
this resentment that’s accruing
every day, in everything I make myself do
I drink and it swallows me

and I’ve already got enough dictators around me
even if I’ve no trophies to bear as such
and when I come to your cocktail party
in my beanie and the oversized shirt you hate
I’m still not sorry if you’ve had enough.
and yet I’ll sit there,
take another plastic glass of punch
acquiesce while you psychoanalyse me
I always keep this poker face
always, all for you.

and all the stuff I’ve been ignoring
fundamentally abhorring
every day, in everything I make myself do
I run and it shadows me

[Cadmus]

A Believer

He's walking down the street
Trying to enjoy what he sees
He likes to dive into his thoughts
Music in his ears, it's all good

Coming across others
He bows and smiles
Asking nothing less than the same in return
He likes it that way

The world should be a nice place
It's his wish to the stars
A believer
Oh, he's a believer

But he can't sleep anymore
Wasted by nightmares and scares
The ghouls ripped apart his beliefs
When they raped him of his sanctuary

[Shadow Wolf]

The path of answers.


Here I am...thinking again
looking for answers
wondering
where to find 'em
because
everyone needs answers
to understand
what to do
where to go
when to act
how to be

Answers are the way
but with no answers
there's no path to walk.

I ask my friends
my family
anyone
I talk
I ask
but I don't get answers.

After I ask
after I talk
after they hear
my friends say the same,
my family say the same:

"You are mature"
"you are smart"
"you can solve it"
"just wait"
"everything will be OK"

Those aren't answers
just advices... empty advices.

Because I'm smart,
because I'm mature,
I have to know the answers?
If I knew, I would not be asking.

They hear... but they don't listen!

I think
I wonder
where to find answers
because
no one gives me answers
only empty advices
and advices are not paths.

I wait
but I don't get answers,
Time does not give me answers.

I ask again
I want answers
...but again,
The same empty advices:

"everything will br OK"
"just wait"
"you can solve it"
"you are smart"
"you are mature"

They hear... but they don't listen!

I think
and think again:
"Where to find answers!?"
"Where to find my path!?"

I read books
I look on the net
but I still don't find answers
because they give empty advices.

I follow them
but I end up the same way as before
because I tried advices
but I didn't found answers

I scream
I cry
but I don't get answers

How do you find answers when everyone thinks you know em!?
how do you get answers by following only advices!?
how do you get answers!?

I say: I don't know
I tell 'em: I don't know
but they say the same

"You are smart"
"you can solve it"
"just wait"
"everything will be OK"
"you are mature"

Again!
the same empty advices!

They hear... but they don't listen!

Being mature does not give me answers!

Waiting does not give me answers!

Being smart does not give me answers!

Nothing is OK!

I can't solve it!

What to do!?

I think again
And I figure
What if they don't know?
then...
that means...
My answers aren't their answers
My path isn't their path.
They don't know my path.
I must know my path... by myself.
I must make my answers.

I heard... but I didn't listened!

I'll keep looking
because
I want to make my answers.

Everything will be ok
I am mature
I am smart
I can solve it

Because...
There's no path.
I make my path.
I walk my path.

[Gavin Luper]

Cadmus: Clearly-written and short, but far from sweet; it's quite a dark poem. It starts off fairly normally, I suppose - we get this image of a normal guy, music in his ears. The line about him asking nothing less than the same in return foreshadows the twist nicely. And it sounds like a horrible twist for the person described. But the poem itself is a success, I reckon, in conveying exactly that: the initial innocence, then the shattered event that clearly happened.

shinypkmnchaser: That was a pretty raw tirade, and it worked best like that. Any more structure and the anger of the narrator would be vastly diminished, I reckon - and I like angry poems. It works well as this loose, but focused, set of musings and questions. If anything, it was too long - after a while, the effect of the repetition dwindled a little bit - but other than that, I found it a really powerful piece. And something I haven't much thought about before, really: how we search for answers from other people, and sometimes come up short. It reminded me a bit of a line from Cat Stevens song ("If they were right, I'd agree, but it's them they know, not me!"), which is sort of what the poem ended up getting at, at least for me. Indeed, the last stanza was really strong.

Cheers!

[The Decapitated Mole]

Here are some lyrics I wrote. All of them are actual songs, if you guys want to hear them I can link you.


"The Birds and the Bees"


All the creatures of land and of sea
they're all politely curious.
Not one of them knows what it is to be
living a life so luxurious.
They're wondering if they've done anything wrong
you see, they've noticed what's happening
And while you deny anything's going on
their whole world is tumbling down

Now all the flowers and the birds and the bees
they're beginning to worry.
Because just like the creatures of land and of sea
their time's running out in a hurry
The flowers are withered.
The bees, they are starving.
The birds are so thirsty.
But still they don't know what's going down.

So what are you going to do now?
Now that it's all gone.
Nothing left to take
The human race is run
What are you going to do now?
Took it all for yourself
Not a thought for the future
Not a thought for anything at all unless it had something to do with you and your wealth

All the creatures of land and of sea
they're all living together now.
And of all the flowers and the birds and the bees
there's not a single one left now.
Everyone living in such harmony
so far beneath the ocean waves.
Without any people like you and like me
our once troubled world is such a big happy place



...and this one is called "Scrubs."


I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me

I get insecure
I don't feel quite right
I sit home all day
and think about tonight
what will I do?
what will I say?
who will I meet?
will they be okay?
where will we go?
what will we do?
will I get high?
will I get with you?
And one thing I've noticed
is no matter how hard I try
I can't make myself into anything
any different than I

and I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me

I try to be cool
I try to act right
I tried to be a rock and roll star
but I just couldn't quite
And when will somebody notice
I'm just crying out for help?
But if I could see your face every day
I'd forget about everything else

And I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me
no, no, no, no!

[Gavin Luper]

TDM: "The human race is run" is such a cool line. Although the last line in the third stanza seems kind of unnecessarily long - is there a reason for it?

I'd love to hear the songs, so go ahead with the link. Especially for "scrubs", I found that one had a really palpable mood of helplessness and it would be interesting to see if the vibe of the song matches the lyric's mood.

Cheers!

[The Decapitated Mole]

Strangely enough, Scrubs is... well, I'll let you hear it. This version is far from perfect, it's the first time we played it live and only probably the 3rd time we played it ever, so it's pretty rough around the edges. I'm glad you picked up on the message of the lyrics though - most people miss out on that given the way the song sounds.

And the reason for the really long line is that I sing it really fast.. a lot of the rhythm and meter I use kind of has to be heard to be understood.. it doesn't look great on paper but it sounds awesome in my head.
(Birds and Bees (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fe4x9l-KP7k) and Scrubs (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fe4x9l-KP7k))

Here's another one... it's not titled, and I'm working on the musical aspect.



I can't think
the city is smothering me
and I'm trying to live, I just want to be free.
And it hurts sometimes
with the smog in your eyes
While the sun shines off apartments scraping the sky
And I can't live like this
surrounded by things that remind me
of how much I know
of how much I know that it's not happening yet
And you know that it's not happening yet
and you feel so cold and trapped inside
you don't even know what it's like to be alive
so you run
you run
you run
you run
and you SCREAM
And you realize that all of that does you no good
so you pack up and move out of your neighborhood
'Cause you know that you need something new
You know that you need something right
You know that you need a change of pace
so you can figure out why you can't sleep at night
And you know that you're right
You know that you're right
Why don't they understand?
You're not looking to fight
So you run
Scream!
Run.
Scream!
So terrified that you might just stay alive
might just stay alive

And outside there's smoke
For inside is burning
burning up everything you keep inside
And there's absolutely nothing to do
except to run
Screaming
as fast as it is fair to go
Everywhere - noise!
Nowhere is queit and peaceful until you look up at the sky
and you cry
You cry to the moon
You cry to the sun
You cry to the stars
and then you fly

[Gavin Luper]

:waycool:

Thanks for posting the link, dude! I'm always impressed when people on here take their lyrics further and actually set them to a melody and record them, like when Ada gave us the link to Rain Eternal. Plus, it takes some balls to reveal anything like that live.

I liked the tunes. I can definitely see what you mean about the message of Scrubs being lost in the sonic atmosphere of the track. On paper (or screen) it's a much darker, more depressing piece, but the music it's set to has poppy, excited drums and bouncy guitars - sort of a real New Wave sound. I guess if you don't want your audience to slit their wrists, that's a decent approach to take. Besides, I often find that a lot of New Wave groups - like Blondie and The Police - created really upbeat-sounding songs that were actually about much more serious issues (I'm thinking of X Offender by Blondie and Message in a Bottle by The Police).

Ironically (or maybe just coincidentally - my comprehension of the word irony has been fatally warped by Alanis Morissettte), Birds and Bees reminds me of the sort of song that would be featured on the TV show Scrubs. They always seem to go for that sort of jangly, alternative-y acoustic music while JD comes to a realisation about something or other. And yours had a nice melody, even if I agree that it would've probably worked better on an acoustic guitar. On balance, I'd say I liked this song more out of the two: it had an almost coffee-house vibe to it, which I love.

In all, good on ya for working that hard at your songs, it's paid off. The latest lyric is darker than its two predecessors, although the denoument is more promising, I suppose. Though the closing imagery doesn't quite work for me - I'm not sure why, it seems a bit too cliche, or like it's too easy a solution to the trauma that comes before it. That might just be personal taste. In any case, good luck working on the musical translation to it.

This is just something I did as apart of a uni assignment: it's one of a cycle of six poems. Enjoy!

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

throb

i have been denied

and you
you have a wager
on your sixth vodka and coke

i have cowed all week

and you have suffered too
beneath your cakey crust
i know you’ve bruised

i have been silenced
been slurred at and never stomached well

and you
you have a cheersquad
in support of your bared breasts

i have wanked

all year.

you are a bass throb through Hush Puppies
you are a flickering heroin-blue toilet light

I fuck. I fuck hard.

[Gavin Luper]

This thread (http://pokemasters.net/forums/showthread.php?t=17833) might interest those who frequent the Poetry Corner.

Cheers!

[Bulbasaur4]

Decapitated Mole - I really like the description you have there and the repetition and partial repetition really got to me! I loved it! The ending seemed bittersweet and delicate at the end, which was a good contrast to the beginning with the SCREAM.

Gavin - Wow, that poem I had to read five times! (A good five times!) I liked the wording you used, such as "cakey crust" - put a really unique image in my mind. I liked the rough tone it had, and the ending really put a finale on that. A very grunge-esque feel to the poem, that I think conveyed a gritty emotion that was refreshing to hear.

I haven't contributed anything in a while, so I figured I might as well put out some new stuff I'm tinkering with. *NOTE* This poem's original format is different than what's shown because it's an image poem (formatted in certain places to give a specific reading flow). So, it isn't formatted perfectly due to TPM's limitations but oh wells!



Trap

A powdered snow moth flutters against the sultry match.
The fizzled flare of it struck against the cardboard box,
inhales the trickle of oxygen left in the air that

I thought was for me.

Just like the wandering flyer who aimlessly crawls into
the cavernous jaws of Venus herself.
The doors shut and the curtains are drawn and

I believed this was my desire.

The school of silvery fish must choose dolphins or the shore.
A pod chased them to choose an endless flop on the beach,
or a swift snap of the jaws but

I see my charcoaled options.

A crackling egg bursts forth, to certainly bring a new pair of eyes
to the paths of the tangling world.
A flash of ivory daggers swallow broken feathers, to bring
about an undeniable closing.

Yet between the egg and feathers, between the white and black,
there was a questionable grey.

An exotic display of vibrant feathers,
An erotic melodious song invitation,
An enormous power of urgency,
to never be alone.


I've made my decision.


But...
... despite this growing chain,
I want to break it.

[mistysakura]

Lots of stuff for me to catch up on...

TDM: Welcome back to TPM! Yay! Well, "Birds and Bees" has a misleading title, does it not? The lyrics work really well with the music -- especially the really long line, which leads nicely back to the guitar chords. Although poetically that line seemed a bit out of place because throughout the rest of the song it's talking about bliss and ignorance in general, then you've got one cynical line about materialsm, then it goes back to the general vibe. I like the rhyme of "curious" and "luxurious" -- it works perfectly without being out of place. Plus, the phrase "politely curious" is just so... curious.

Scrubs: Yeah, I wasn't expecting the happy vibe either. But the lyrics still work -- they're not all about wallowing in misery, they're not all about rage, but they're all about trying -- and the vibe I get from the music is that it's telling the world it's putting on a happy face. The lyrics are simple, but that's where the power comes from -- like the music, it's very direct and unafraid to express itself. The only thing I have to criticise is the video -- and of course, that's because it was still rough around the edges. But the drums seemed really hollow and echoey, eating up the bass' sound. Maybe something a bit more crunchy would work better. I'm sure it's sounding tons better now though :)

Good job on getting the videos up (and not cheating by cutting and pasting like I did :P)

throb: *jaw drops* the repetition is used to great effect, creating a resentful tone, almost like the speaker is spitting in "your" face. A similar thing happens with the punctuation and line breaks for emphasis. Like Kalah, I like the "cakey crust". Like the crust on a wound, but also sugary on the outside... and the cake is a lie. :P But for some reason, I had to read "been slurred at and never stomached well" a couple of times. Perhaps it's the "at", which weakens the impact of the phrase "been slurred at" (hehe, this is why you don't put prepositions at the ends), although I'm not sure what else would work. Also, should it read "never stomached it well"? And it feels like too many adjectives have been attached to the word "light" in the penultimate line, although the image of "heroin-blue" is really memorable. Once again, *jaw drops*

Trap: Hehe, TPM really doesn't like formatting. In one of my poems, I had to put a string of letters with the same colour as the background colour, just to get the lines to indent properly in a list. I really like the imagery, especially the last flicker of oxygen and the Venus flytrap. It was a great idea to look into the "literal" meaning of Venus flytrap and see the desire after which it's named. The last ray of hope is portrayed so well here. The "certainly" broke up the image of the egg for me though; it seemed too objective. Maybe something more emotional would work better. Anyway, I like the shape of the poem, especially the standalone "I've made my decision" at the centre. And I like the juxtaposition of "exotic" and "erotic". Keep up the good work :)

[Asilynne]

When Asi cant sleep shit happens o.o

This poem is called All Things Must End:

Whats inbetween
the truth and the lies
whats inbetween
to live and to die
I find myself uncomprehending
longing for this worlds ending
as I watch the simple things die
apathy is everyones alibi
while those who grieve must say goodbye

when there is nothing left to try
how will you justify
the rape of everything pure you once knew
there was a time that you cared
but now its clear youve been stripped bare
of everything pure that was you

Is this whats true?

Ive tried to live
the way the world wants
Ive tried to forgive
the past which haunts
But in my waking dreams
all I hear is the heart-wrenching screams
as I watch the simple life die
the memories make everyone cry
while those who forget will say goodbye

when there is nowhere left to go
how will you know
when the old wounds have been healed
there was a time it was right
but now its clear youve brought to light
the old wounds you still feel

Is this whats real?



Im sorry its depressing :<

[PancaKe]

Wow. I haven't been here or written poetry in ages! Gosh. I really should pick it up again. I forgot how relaxing writing and reading poetry was!


Oh, Mikachu Yukitatsu - just wanted to say that I thought it was awesome the way you changed the Blind Guardian song. :D Yeah.. I know its a really old one far up the page but thought it deserved a mention.

So.. maybe I'll write something now.




It blinks.
Once. Twice. And then a third time.
It is repeating itself.
Constantly blinking.
It's mocking me. I'm sure of it.
It's watching me.
It's waiting for me to begin.
But I can't.
No, I just can't.
Not with it's taunting eyes, judging every moment.
I begin to write.
Click.
Click click click.
Letters form words.
Words form sentences.
Sentences form prose.
I read what I have done.
And in a flash, it's gone.
All that is left
is a haunting blink.

[Weasel Overlord]

@PancaKe: I really wanted to know what the clicking thing was! I got the feeling it was like... a typewriter, or something. Might just me being blur though.

Here's something that I'd very much like constructive crit on. It stomped into my head over the Summer when I couldn't sleep, and it hasn't let me alone since. It's still not right though, and it's getting on my nerves... Could be those damned first 2 lines...
If anyone can get the tv reference, cookies will be forthcoming. :D

Can’t

Too warm maybe if I throw
the quilt away but now it’s too cold
stick a foot out and a leg aah that’s better.

Listen! It’s a fox! Could be
a fox it sounds like one but
it could be cats mating. I wonder

why my eyes creak click
clicking like machinery
louder than the clock.

But I thought horlick’s
was supposed to help you
sleep all chocolatey. Shouldn’t

have watched that one extra
episode (poor Owen) just can’t
resist - never can even though

it’s scary. I won’t remember
this in the morning.


And one more;


Alchemy

Change is in my blood like
a Painted Lady, stretching
her wings. Cold iron holds
its fascination in transmutation,
and I stare into liquid domes
as they bubble to the surface.

Is it madness, to see gold
in quicksilver depths? No.
I will master it. Bind it
with circle and exchange,
until the Golden Lady’s dances
unfurl only for me.


My creative writing class were super confused about the last verse. Mostly, the last two lines. If anyone has any suggestions for edits, lay 'em on me!