Thoughts spew forth,
Feelings entwined,
Erratic,
Irrational,
Indecipherable.
Are these two forces destined,
Never to reconcile,
My heart and my mind?
Forlorn.
Her query implies,
Contained within,
Here I have never been.
But these halls,
I have walked before,
And which I shall walk again.
Those are nice :)
I think you should write more, and maybe give them titles.
I like your style of writing. As Jelli said give them titles. I've also noticed you haven't introduced yourself. You'll find the newbies thread in the Welcome MessageBoard Area and it's one of the top threads. You also haven't joined a guild yet. If you want to enter some of the writing competitions (you seems really good at writing) it is better if you are part of a guild because then your guild can receive points for your entries. Hope you enjoy your time on this site. VC :D
Her Words humble,
A gentle caress,
Amidst a sea,
Of endless torment,
But alas,
To name that,
Which cannot be named,
Is indeed impossible.
He recalls a time,
When expression,
Was in abundance.
Saddened deeply,
He queries,
Where have all the writers gone?
i'm going to sound repediative (sp?) titles please?
the first one you could call Forlorn.
the second Never been
i dunno about the others.
Why do you want/need titles? :-| Just asking.
Ashlings' guildleader
13 years ago
Ashlings' guildleader
Dreamscape Artist
Because people like to catagorise things and put them away in nice little boxes with their name on the front. As a scientist in training, I'm particularly guilty.
I like them thycrow, but I get a sense of looking at a halfcompleted jigsaw puzzle, as if each piece is completely there but that something is still distinctly missing.
The framework,
That you so desire,
Is I,
And I seek to inspire.
Response in verse,
Perhaps not at first,
But now notice,
I am trying to converse.
Very interesting. I'm very intrigued in your poems thycrow.
Conversing I do see
inspiration possibly
for naming a collection
talk to me?
today perhaps
My verse is poor
It could be worse
IT COULD BE IN CAPS
Forgive my tardiness,
For I wish to express,
Your poetical prowess,
Does indeed impress.
Happiness you have brought,
To an otherwise distraught,
Mind that was besought,
It has not been for naught.
What others failed to see,
You did intuitively,
Perfectly,
How can I repay thee?
13 years ago
Sun May 30 2010, 01:22pm
Our language has fallen,
From the pedestal that it once stood,
To the depths of derogation,
The onslaught it has not withstood.
If only it could rise,
To its place of former glory,
But one man is not enough,
Or so goes the age old story.
Beneath our feet it dwindles,
But he reaches out in earnest,
Our language must be saved,
From that all consuming furnace.
It’s the tool of our expression,
How we connect to one and other,
If our language is to die...
He barley represses the shudder.
A Title: Pay the Piper
Let me take you on a journey,
From your mind to mine,
You made this place of torment,
You’ll be repaid in kind.
I’ll take you from where you are,
To a place you’ve never been,
A place of little happiness,
Where all humour is obscene.
Shadows lurk ‘round every corner,
All light has been diminished,
You’re mine until I’m done with you,
You’re here until the finish.
You had no choice the choice was mine,
But if you’re inclined to disagree,
Then be gone this is the time,
This is your chance to flee.
But you can’t you’re trapped I knew you were,
You’ll see this journey through,
After all you’re in my mind,
There’s naught I cannot do.
And yet you still believe,
You think your will is stronger,
Do not fear no harm will come,
Just stay a little longer.
As I scrawl these words across this pad,
As my blood is turned to ink,
As all my thoughts start bleeding out,
I again begin to think.
You ventured close and now you’re trapped,
In your mind I’ll now reside,
So it falls to you to pay the piper,
In you I will confide.
For some cruel twist or paradox,
You’re the author of my fate,
Tis you who’ll grant immortality,
So in your mind I’ll wait.
The path to glory is with you,
With you I’ll rise and fall,
But if the path’s less fortunate,
We’ll wait til carrions call.
He found me once so now I hide,
Tis your mind in which I’ll dwell,
Until the reaper seeks me out,
To drag me back to hell.
13 years ago
Wed Jun 09 2010, 05:13pm
I smile to myself -
Your creativity does astound -
As does your intellect
Your words are a rare sound.
Like the dripping of honey,
Or a snowflake's fall,
The sound sought after,
The most beautiful sound of all.
(I'm a bit out of practise with poetry so soz it's kind of bad)
Forgive me my timing
I've been far away
Not to mention that rhyming
is not my usual forte.
For our language to mourn
is noble indeed
Its abuse you scorn
like a knight on his steed.
The two longer works
i did much enjoy
what emotion we irk
with words as our toys
Their structure changed
from communication tried
but no less deranged
when artistically eyed.
(not that i think you're deranged thycrow, but it was too good a rhyme not to use.)
13 years ago
Sat Jun 12 2010, 11:51pm
Again I seek forgiveness,
To return I’ve endeavoured.
But life has ties,
That are not easily severed.
13 years ago
Sat Jun 12 2010, 11:56pm
To the Lady Dinaria of Evilness I write...
Your words weave like spider's silk,
An intricate tapestry, dangerous in their beauty,
For to be caught is to be consumed.
To Hannai,
On this night,
My thoughts do not come easily, for you are in them all.
To be understood, is such a strange feeling.
There are an infinite number of ways, to say thank you,
I play with each, and discard each in turn.
That which I hold most dear, my language, has failed me.
On this night.
Wanderer Ward
13 years ago
Wanderer Ward
Rebel
Oh Piper!
Where came you hence
to lead our minds astray -
to wander in the wordy groves
and coax our keys to play?
Now I ask thee such;
what wonders in this ebb and flow
of letters you have charmed
will find their way ashore
and drift among our souls unarmed?
What eyes opened
and what hearts broken
with the mightiest of swords;
the power of language
written and spoken?
Now lead us on,
who knows the way,
and relish in the typing tune
this ink-dawn day.
13 years ago
Sun Jun 13 2010, 05:26pm
Oh Bravo!
I tip my hat and say Bravo,
In my loudest voice I exclaim,
For that work was exceptional,
Truly worthy of acclaim.
In answer to your query,
From Nietzsche I must borrow,
For what took him just one line,
Would take me til Tomorrow.
Here was a man enlightened,
Beyond imagining,
If it’s said I use my words to hum,
Then he used his words to sing.
“A thought, even a possibility,
Can shatter and transform us.â€
This is the power of the spoken word,
Of this is what I spoke thus.
If you are to follow the piper,
Like the children from ages past,
On the side of caution you must ere,
For he is unsurpassed.
Once more I borrow, now from Frost,
Who knows which way to go?
Should we trudge the path less travelled?
But again I say Bravo.