Haha, Sleep Writing... maybe you should try it more often? :P Not that your awake poems arn't absolutely wonderful! I love this poem, it's soooo pretty, i love the gorgeous scene.
Hmm am i trying to fit in as many pretty synonyms as possible? lol anyways, what happened with your story? were you planning to do more with it, or move it, or.. ?
Aaaand I have been away for a while. I am planning to do some more work on the story, but I think I will try posting it in prodders tis time. :P I got a few good friends to read it for me, so hopefully the combined feeback of them and you will get me the energy to work on it....
Yes! Do it! GO DO IT NOW!
_FEEDBACK_ Shonk. Not brow-beating :P.
Having said that, WRITE WRITE WRITE, Thali!
The latest version of 'To Kill a Dragon' is all happily settled in to a nice new Prodders thread.
Now attempting to catch an idea that has been buzzing around of late so that I can give it a closer inspection
Thalia: [act]reaches for literary butterfly net[/act]
Idea: [act]engages in a figurative game of hide and seek[/act]
Thalia: X:S
Thalia: [act]swings net[/act] [act]misses idea[/act]
Idea: [act]flies away[/act]
Net: [act]knocks over box of old papers[/act]
Thalia: Hmm, what's this old poem? Oh, one I wrote back in the days of Rogue Squadron, based on 'The Man From Snowy River' by the looks of it.... Huh.
There was panic on the Xbox, for the word had gone around
That a squadron - name of Rogue had come to stay.
With their hard-honed skills and teamwork, hitting targets on the ground,
Wreaking havoc - it was just their kind of day.
Never fearing for an instant what their actions might beget
Soaring abstract, like true captains of the sky -
Straight and true their missiles sped, with no remorse and no regret
A single shadow, forged of many, lifted high.
Hmm, looks like I managed to finish this one too and just never posted it [act]shakes head in despair[/act]
Stormy Petrel
If I were a bird
I know what I'd be
The great Stormy Petrel
Wild and free
Herald of storms
And bringer of woe
Bane of all ships
In the ocean below
Omen of terror
Symbol of doom
Rejoicing in lightning
And thunder's wild boom
Yet when the storm leaves
I, too, will depart
To follow the tempest,
To follow my heart
I really like that ;D I am hopeless at poetry myself, but I love reading other people's. I think this really expresses the petrels desire for destruction and pain. I love your choice of words.
I agree! You've captured how isolated the petrel is from all those that exist below it, as he comes gliding in with the storms. Lovely!
I'm not familiar with the game you based your other on, but I love how you captured the 'Snowy River' rhythm :)
Thanks guys. :)
Darga, the Xbox one wasn't actually based on a game, so no worries there. ;)
Hmm, had an awesome idea, for a really neat story, but no idea how to write it :-/
Basically, my mind was getting annoyed with the fake pockets on my shorts. So I thought, what if people started using fake pockets entirely? They would need to start storing their stuff somewhere else. Like through a rift in time into another universe. Then the idea becomes so popular that the tech allowing them to do this becomes overloaded and somebody gets the amazing idea of carrying stuff with them, in pockets. Ok, does that make sense to anyone else at all? My problem is that the stuff in another universe wouldn't follow them around. So what would really happen is they dump stuff into a parallel universe where everyone takes the stuff with them. Which is to say, I need to go to a meeting so I drop a biro and a clipboard into the other universe and head to work. They appear on the other side and land in, say, a trashcan. They don't move. But the me in this other universe is not so lazy and actually carries her biro and clipboard with her. So when I get to work I just reach through and steal her copies. Which gets to be such a big problem that she ends up taking a whole packet of biros in hope that one will be left by the time she arrives because these hands keep appearing out of nowhere and stealing them.
Maybe we can get a group discount to go see a psychiatrist after that....
The Clock is Ticking
The clock is ticking
Time moves on
It’s time to sing another song
The bell is tolling
End draws near
Final dance of the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
Round and red
The apple falls upon the floor
Encased in glass so
Smooth and cold
I cannot feel the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
In my bed
I lie and dream of freedom’s kiss
The world I wake to
Is not home
A stranger in the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
As I spin
Faster, the world becomes a blur
He followed me when
I fleeing hid
Glass shoe chilled by midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
Deep and dark
The waters lit by storm above
I traded sparkling
Tail for legs
Pain, naked in the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
Petals fall
And I alone can save him now
Trapped forever in
This tower
Barred windows keep the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
Golden hair
This burden left for me to bear
He fell, she cut it
Grief I learn
Unheard save for the midnight breeze
The clock is ticking
Faster now
The music drawing to a close
The final notes are
Falling dead
And with them fails the midnight breeze
Lovely, Thalia :). You're following Axe's lead, I see, and giving us an overview of some of the classic fairytales.
And your story idea is doing my head in. But I'd love to read it! I hope you can find the words to get the plot down on paper :)
12 years ago
Tue Jul 31 2012, 07:15pm
[act]blushes[/act] I must admit to having never read Axe's work, but it sounds interesting, must go and find it now....
Actually, I was wondering about the endings to fairytales. I liked the way IC brought it up, I mean, what if sleeping beauty didn't like the prince after all? What if the little mermaid regretted having legs? What if Snow White was not dead when they put her in that glass coffin? I hate it when people change the stories to be all happy endings. :P
Thalia,
do you read much modern poetry? There's a quality to your poetry that's typical of romantic poetry.
*wanders into thread* Ooh, look new stuff to remind me to post some more here....
Silvermoon, I read a lot of stuff. But while I like some more modern styles I find that when I write stuff they tend to find a pattern and stick to it. It varies from one thing to the next, but my poems generally have a set pattern of syllables in each line, and sometimes other things too e.g. every second line ends with a three syllable word ending with -ing (makes it very difficult at times). My short stories often run in a circle.
Life hasn't been so great lately. Getting burnt out at work, writers block, not fun. *sighs* Still, here is the first poem I have written in far too long. Hopefully I'll get better once I have a change of scenery and move back to Aus.
Fatigue
Never ending
Monologue
Droning
On
Faded letters
Meaningless
Every
One
Brittle paper
Crumbling
Broken
Song
Mystic Ward
11 years ago
Mystic Ward
Twentyfamilies Gypsy
I know that feeling well and you have captured it perfectly in a beautiful little poem.
Hope things pick up for you real soon.
Oh, you do sound flat! That poem is amazing. I forever envy you poets your ability to string a couple of random words together and make them make such beautiful sense :).
I echo Deb - feel better!
I feel that poem Thalia. Its fantastic how much you have conveyed in so few words.
Hope you get an energy boost soon.
It's been far, far, far, far, far too long. I have returned from the dead though. Now I just need to come up with a good excuse and/or some poetry to distract you all. There be a reason I joined the wanderers....
Say, how come I have not had the newsletter in months? That's what used to remind me to check, no wonder I've been lost.
