Poetry Corner

[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.

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

[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 )



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
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 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.