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Poet's Corner
Welcome to the Poet's Corner. Feel free to post your poems here, and you may get some reviews! There are, however, a few guidelines for posting and reviewing:
- No flaming. Constructive criticism only. 'this poem sux' is neither appropriate nor acceptable.
- No spamming.
Posting
- Must be original work. It must be your original work.
- Must be able to accept criticism. Some will naturally come from posting on here.
- Must be clean. No pornography, and keep cussing minimal. If I find your poem overly offensive, I will have to delete it. I do not mean to censor, but kids can get on here and I would rather not expose them to it. Poems will be censored for language and pornography. If I don't like your poem and it does not violate these guidelines, it will stay...
- Poem -- Glifinial/Midnight Flame/Riverwind's player...I played them when the games were active, 09:36:09 12/14/03 Sun
This is something I wrote for the book I'm working on, it's really a song...like a ballad, almost.
ICE AND FIRE
Born of winter, wind and snow
Icedancer, harsh season’s child
Danced upon the frozen ground
‘Neath gray sky of weather wild
With liquid grace she swayed and twirled
Feather-light on gliding feet
‘Till one day’s dancing took her far
And fair-haired stranger she did meet
Just as she was winter’s daughter
Sunsinger was summer’s son
Clear green eyes he lay upon her
So with one glance his heart was won
"Maiden fair," he cried aloud
To summer’s border he did ride
Icedancer, she turned and fled
From sun’s bright fire was forced to hide
In sleep her presence haunted dreams
Of icy wind and falling now
He woke to see her dancing there
On frozen ground he could not go
Ice and fire
Two worlds apart
Sunsinger raised his voice once more
This time in song, a joy to hear
She, fair maiden, ceased to twirl
Was so entranced that she drew near
Parted by her ice, his fire
Each one’s season other’s bane
Across the border love grew strong
They waited until autumn came
For on one day, and only one
When neither ice nor fire held sway
The two at last were let to cross
And she in summer’s arms did lay
Her skin so pale, with shadowed hair
Dark eyes possessed a beauty rare
And Sunsinger...she thought and smiled
None looked so handsome standing there
But bitter tears they both did shed
That one day ended all too soon
And sun’s bright fire sent ice away
Back to dance beneath the moon
Ice and fire
Two worlds apart
He returned to summer-lands
But flowers gay held no allure
Icedancer, she filled his thoughts
With memories of her beauty pure
Though she still danced on frozen ground
Still moved to sound of harp unseen
Her white-clad world brought no relief
To a heart remembering eyes of green
Parted by her ice, his fire
Each one’s season other’s bane
Across the border love stayed strong
They waited until autumn came
Reunion held not only joy
And tempered as it was by woe
They begged the gods to lift the curse
That kept them bound in sun and snow
Said ice to fire, "In death, my love
There lies relief for you and I."
But loathe were they to end their lives
In fear their love, as well, would die
So tortured lives led ice and fire
Ice and fire, two worlds apart
Drawn by destiny, mocked by fate
To live a love doomed from the start
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- Lost Colony -- Chrome, 15:03:50 09/23/03 Tue
Something I've been working on based on previous events in Lost Colony. The story does not follow the RPG entirely, some things have been changed to suit my purposes. The setting, the whole thing with Tanari and Venhydra Morgan and Babhbh came up with, not me. I did change some of that, but they came up with most of it. And the characters were pulled out of the RPG. Chrome and Kat are my own characters, but all the others were invented by someone else. Just giving everyone credit. I'll post it in snippets underneath this.
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- bouncy -- sum1, 20:48:07 08/04/03 Mon
oh my wonderful lenore
how your language is good
loving you lenore, sometimes makes me sick
especially when
id like to bounce you on my d#$%
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- .shadows fall. -- JJ, 22:41:21 07/22/03 Tue
You promised not to leave, to never fail me,
But now my soul must grieve, my tears to fall free.
I'll die a thousand times before I let you go,
I'll write a thousand rhymes, just so you'll know.
Shadows now falling, darkness is near,
Shadows now falling, and so is my fear.
Shooting stars, you and I, never to be dimmed,
Shooting stars will never fly, now forever dimmed.
Shadows now falling, my soul will always grieve,
Shadows now falling... you promised not to leave...
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- Soulreaper -- Dalamar, 13:29:39 04/28/03 Mon
This is a short story that I wrote just because I can. I'm going to respond to myself here and post it on that message so that I don't take up like three feet of space on the board. So... yeah. Hope you like it!
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- This is the first chapter of a book I *may* continue. Should I? -- Aspiring Writer, 19:34:59 02/23/03 Sun
Vale D' Eluria, self-declared street-rat of the Royal City of Tres'Baine, sat cross-leggedly atop the thatch roof of the hut commonly used for a guard's post. A streak of clay ran jaggedly across her jaw from a fall she'd taken earlier in the day, and a mud-brown bag of small coins sat in her hands as she carefully studied the ground below.
"Only one way down," she half-sighed, twisting her green eyes upward in her head to the Peregrin Falcon that hovered some distance above "right, Hotep?"
The bird gave a noise half-way between a crow's caw and a squeal, which Vale took for an open, annoyed yes. It was followed by another, which sounded desperately impatient.
"Just because it's the fastest way doesn't always mean it's the best." she called upwards, apparently wary of the jump to the horse-hoof packed soil below that awaited her. A call that was interrupted by the groans of awakening men beneath her. Guards. And worse, Guards that would have a god-awful headache, a pouch of missing Treblancs, and Vale to recognise and blame for the matter. In a quick and not-too silent movement, she stood up, making the unsturdy hay-and-sod roof heave beneath her shifting weight, and alerting the guards to some presence above them.
"She's up there! Up the trap ladder!" a faintly gruff, and drunkenly tired voice growled from the floor below, but a few scant seconds before a man's head (and an ugly one, too, Vale thought bitterly) shot up from a wooden-hinged door cut into the roof of the "house", snarling ferociously like a rabid dog in a bronze helmet.
"Why you little Wench!" he raged, as two heavily-muscled arms, that could have easily broken the tall seventeen-year-old into as many pieces as she had years, preceded his body out of the trap door. The whole hut seemed to sway with his effort of pulling himself onto the roof, making Vale's legs quiver violently, and her arms flail to catch her balance, red-blonde hair flying out like a mangled kite being tossed in a blustering gale.
"Maybe you're right about this one" she called hastily to Hotep, before bunching the muscles in her legs tightly and stepping off of the top of the building with a nervously excited whoop.
Her landing was softer than she'd expected, which wasn't much of a good thing, since she'd managed to catch a lift on a passing vegetable cart that stank of old cabbage and mold-ridden carrots, the Guard watching her from the rooftop, eyes bright with laughter. At least they wouldn't try to pursue.
"They think too highly of themselves, the ugly bastards." she muttered under her breath vilely.
Vale lay uncomfortably strewn upon the lumps of green mush that littered the wagon, breathing hard and twisting her back about to make sure everything was in as proper an order as it had ever been before, she seemed unnoticed by the carter, who, Vale guessed, was awfully deaf. Anyone with the slightest bit of hearing could have heard the sickening squoosh she'd made as her light linen tunic and bare, tanned arms hit the rotten food, which was now trying it's best to absorb her into it's slimy depths.
"Ugh! What business has any man to take such dog's food to market?!" she whined in exasperation, shaking the old greens from the insides of her sleeves and combing strings of it from her mussed hair with quick motions. She wrinkled her nose, suddenly becoming more acutely aware of the scent it had wrought upon her, letting one hand fly to her forhead to check that her scarve, which was roughly the color of the tree's in the Forest of Soles, sat properly down upon it.
"A man of humble rank, perhaps?" came an answer to her question, in a deep, yet still thin voice that was vaguely recogniseable to her, even in her disheveled state.
Vale's first reaction was that of a jump, which cleared away far more of the over-ripe vegetables than her previous efforts had. Her long, thin face and highly-set cheekbones dropped into the shape of a perfect oval, jaws falling open in astonished happiness, then snapping audibly shut to smile.
"Brother Jobe!" She threw her hands up in wonderment, sickly-green strings of asparagus flying sky-ward with her motion, only to snow down upon them once more a moment later.
"Vale!" he answered with equal enthusiasm, throwing his brown-cloaked arms up as well, but denying himself the shower of rotten vegetables, and surprise, for he had known it was the red-haired mynx from the start. Slowly he reached out to rap her upon her head with one solid, dark-haired knuckle
"by the way, this food is for Asses, not humans"
He slipped her a sly grin, and she reached up, cheeks flushed from her previous adventure, two fingers outstretched to touch the faded scar held high on his forehead, just at his slightly-receded hairline, which consisted of dark tendrils. The mark seemed to glow beneath the warmth of her tanned fingers, and, for a scant instant, became visible as a crescent, like that of a waning moon upon his pale skin. Skin that marked him as hated and disreputable, she thought bitterly, As Quiverran. But all that was lost in the joyouslly small pastime of her childhood. The scar had always been seen as quite a curious thing to her, though not unfamiliar, in ways.
As she lifted her and from the age-old friend, he smiled that brief, troubled smile he always had whenever she or one of her older sisters had caressed it lightly, giggling sometimes at the stories he told as they had sat in his lap. Then his head had been full, and a dark, muddy color. Now it was riddled with silver, like single beams of light in the dank blackness of a cave. It had been long, then, too, in the days before he had joined the priesthood on the outskirts of Tres'Baine. None were sure why the light-hearted, wild fellow had joined the bretherin, but everyone speculated it had something to do with that scar. Which it didn't, Jobe always said, and she believed him.
"Do you wan't to sleep in the back of my cart? Or will you be my guest to sup at the Monestary?"
Hivoice woke Vale from her reminiscent daydreaming just as the mule pulling the cart slowed to a stop on the cobble-stone road leading to the headquarters of the holymen. She hadn't even consiously realized they'd been moving so long, though the Monestary was not at all far from where she'd boarded the wagon. Her emerald-eyed gaze fixed to the west, where the son had been diluted into a golden and red-point of light, which leaked its colour upon the sky like a blot of ink slowly spreading across a piece of curled, yellow parchment. His voice erupted within her train of thought again.
"Vale? Will you or won't you?"
"Grls aren't allowed within the monestary." She stated blankly and irritably, know-it-all tone plainly showing how unhappy she was to have been interrupted
"But you're not a girl" Jobe said, casting her a cock-eyed, sideways glance, smirking in his wise way "that is, you won't be once you tuck your hair into that scarf that never leaves your head."
"ah..." she nodded, annoyance fading with the sunset (and the prospect of a hot meal), then gathered a mass of tangled locks into her hands and swept them up beneath the turban upon her brow, tucking them in with the care one might use to swaddle an infant just after his birth. Vale made a very odd boy, that was certain, with her pouting lips and elegant features, But she was lean, and muscular, and, frankly, without a woman's curves, so pass for one she certainly could. The largest problem really being that for a seventeen-year-old (boy) she had no whiskers. So, Jobe said
"You'll be fourteen. And...very tall" That was the end of that.
The road leading down to the outer walls of the monestary was about a half-mile long, and just wide enough to accomodate the Well-worn cart and the fat old mule laboring to pull it with Vale's added weight, though it wasn't as if the animal were too crowded or tired, for he tried often to stop quickly and snip at the catches of grass peeking up from between the stones that made up the road, and might have worn him out faster than pulling straight ahead without the pauses. Vale tried her best to concentrate on keeping her long, feminine locks up inside of her scarf, hardly managing to keep them both comfortably tucked away and unrevealing of her gender. Other than that, her worries were few, or, more correctly, suppressed by the knowledge that she'd be having a warm place to sleep this night instead of a splintery, wooden chair in the Red Skull Pub.
"Brother Jobe!" came a happy call from the bound-oak gates, which were slowly swinging open in preparation for the wagon's entrance "I see you've brought food for the mules! and another little thief, too? Jobe, you are too big of heart!"
Ǒ
The meal Vale was presented with that evening was not as appetizing as she had hoped for. It consisted mainly of distasteful cheeses, quite-stale bread, and a thin broth that was loathe to call soup, so she satisfied herself only with the soup, slipping the holed cheese and bread into the folds of her muddy tunic. 'For later', she told the heftily-built man who had chanced to be sitting next to her, while telling herself 'For the mules'. She listened to the Brothers' conversation for nearly three hours, sipping at her chalice of crab-apple wine (which had been filled to the brim nare four times) until she grew light-headed and tired from not only the drink, but also the day's plunders and the incessant talk of Tel-chan, the God these monks so devoutly worshipped. Jobe, Vale noticed, seemed to wince slightly each time he was invoked to speak of this deity, as if his eyes were ordered to twitch by the same god the others spoke of. Crudely, she imagined Tel-Chan's godly, invisible hand jerking at a thin string attached to the priest's eyes lid.
"Twitch, Jobe, Twitch!" Tel-chan's booming voice snickered mischievously in Vale's head as she let her cheeks slip into the grasp of her ginger-huen hands, catching the glance of Jobe, who slowly erected his posture, stood up, and stepped away from the table. He let one hand come to rest of Vale's slumping shoulders, grasping them firmly and lifting up.
"Come on, boy, if you wish a bed." He said loudly to her, then, turning back to the table, continued "I am afraid this little slip and I'll have to be off to sleep. He's young, and needs his rest, you know!", which aroused another bout of laughing from the tables, the voice of the husky monk next to Vale standing out from the rest coarsely
"You've a good boy, there, Jobe. A good Boy. I seen 'im hoardin' a bit o' meal for his family when 'e returns home" said he, which brought an uneasy smile to Jobe's face and a river of guilt to Vale's for misleading the good natured man so (though she had not intended to). Slowly she rose from her chair, and folowed Jobe (who had alredy begun climbing stairs to the south tower) through a wooden door to the right of where they had been, and up a twisting flight of stairs to a small room. Though it really was quite small, the room still was cozy. It had a small fire blazing in a fireplace adjacent to the door, with a Cot propped ricketily up nearby an old writing desk that was slowly absorbing a spilled vat of ink.
"You'll be sleeping on the cot, Vale. I've a good bit of writing to do in any case." Jobe said, the latter surprising her, for as long as she'd known him he'd never had anyone to write to. No friends (besides monks, who lived nearby), no family. No family. The very phrase ressurrected a small tide of long-buried pain within her mind, and she surpressed it quickly, willing it to leave her. She watched Jobe stride over to the sway-backed desk, then hastily stripped down to the warm trousers she wore always beneath her light surcoat, and slipped between the thin blanket and the rough material the cot was mad of, something many girls her age might have been embarrassed to do in the presence of a man, even if it was a monk. But feelings such as that hardly stopped her. She was used to it, taking up her usual residence in a low-rate tavern, frequented by drunkards and rapists. She'd learned not to be afraid. She'd had to. Because she was alone.
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- Ritual Dance -- Corin (RD's player), 17:05:58 02/22/03 Sat
Ritual Dance
I dance to a beat long forgotten
Pray to the gods of the old
Throw back my crown and sing a song
Of stories left untold
My beat is smooth, simple, clean
Secrets woven in my moves
Secrets that shall never pass my lips
But for the lover that I choose
My dance alone can mesmorize
Watch my body, watch my eyes
Perfect harmony that can hypnotize
My purity tells no lies
My voice, so keen and clear
Stirs the beast inside
For I sing my story, never told
But to the sun and to the tides
As for my name? Forget it.
I set you in a trance
The world around you melts away
For I dance the ritual dance
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- ...A story... -- Hamster, 16:12:27 02/13/03 Thu
Hey guys this is the first part of chapter one of a story that I am writing, I welcome all critisium possible, and remember that this chapter is not complete so it does just leave off...here goes...
Chapter 1
The river, the cold river of all things lost, was rushing towards him, he was helpless in spite of himself, all he could do was stand there like a rabbit pray to a hungry giant. He would stand there until it overcame him and he would be lost forever in its dark pitiless depths, forever dead, yet forever alive. These were his thoughts as always coming from a world unknown, unexplored by anyone, but it was his curse his dreams, oh how they haunted him.
This was the point where he always woke, and as always he sat up in a cold sweat his breathing irregular, skin gray and clammy. It was no different each time, just as he was to be swept away in to the merciless wrath of the depths, he awoke, from the dream that tormented and plagued him each night until he was worn raw from its unending torture. He had never told anyone, not even his best friend Lyea, who he shared every thing else in this world with. All he could do was hope that the morning would soon come so that he could be a day closer to the day when he would be free and able to leave this place he had grown to hate ever since he could remember.
It had all started when he was 3yrs old, his mother fayra had the coughing disease, his father Landen was doing all he could do for her, but not even the high mages from Domath could cure her, so eventually she faded away. Within a year she finally faded completely away. He had never really gotten to spend time with her and since her fading; Landen had nothing but hash words, and cold stares. He avoided his father, as much as was possible for his 14 years. Everyone had to deal with fading, there was no word for death beyond his dreams, they just disappeared and left in their place a small seed, to plant and grow, symbolizing life beyond death. But for some like Landen it was too much to bear.
Stretching he lifted his feet to the cold wooden floor, bare body chilled, there draft coming from cracks in the walls, and that just reminded him of how much he wanted to leave this god-forsaken place. Quickly he pulled on a linen shift covering his nakedness. Walking over to the front wall of his tiny attic room he examined himself in the broken shard of mirror he had found in one of his mothers trunks, which were neatly packed away in the room adjoining his. He was tall for his age, but that was not uncommon considering he was infact ¾ elf. He had fine features, a pale complexion, strawberry blonde hair, and startling green eyes, of which he inherited from his ½Waeryn mother, oh how he loved it when Lyea would use his memories of her to project him an image, she was very beautiful. He remembered her as any 3yr old would, she was his mother, basically his everything, his 3yr old world revolved souly around her. As he remembered she was tall like him, with fiery red hair, and a wonderful smile, she smelled of summer, and all things nice, he could just remember her vivid green eyes watching him as he skipped along happily in his own little world, carefree, a child. But she was gone now, and sometimes, he would just go outside to where her silvery aspen stood tall and graceful and sit under its branches, wanting nothing more than for her to come out of that proud silvery husk, and tell him that everything would be alright, for that is what he most wanted to hear.
Sighing he went to the shuttered window and looked upon the outside world, it was raining softly, reflecting his mood. He backed away from the window pulling his school robes on, and headed down the dimly lit narrow stairs that led to the attic rooms, ducking for the last few stairs he emerged into the hall, and quietly made his way to the small hearth warmed kitchen, where undoubtedly Landen awaited to tell him, how much of a looser he was. Heck he already knew that, he was part elf, part waeryn, and the simplest of spells burnt him out, how he hated the constant ridiculing from Landen, and everyone else in Devea, except for lyea, who said that one day he would be the greatest mage that ever walked this earth, as well as the otherworlds. He loved to hear those words from her, although he knew that it was all a lie, but somehow a small part of him believed, at least a little.
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- Searching -- Jackie, 14:06:47 01/14/03 Tue
She stands there wondering what makes her different, why she is always apart,searching for answers. She loves her family, but must separate herself from them to find the answers she seeks. Wondering if the impossible could become reality or if 'reality' is impossible. A new world with elements of the old, perhaps the answers lie here, or nowhere at all, hidden in her and not in any world to be found.
(This is a first try, so give any criticism you want.)
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- Determination -- Dezra, 16:58:29 11/03/02 Sun
Life isn't fair.
It just isn't.
We all know that.
It slaps you in the face.
And then laughs at you when you cry.
But if you don't keep trudging.
No one will do it for you.
The "Big World" doesn't care what happens to you.
In fact, it couldn't really care less.
But we all have a purpose in life.
And if you don't fufill it.
No one will do it for you.
"What purpose?", you say.
But, heck, how am I supposed to know.
If you don't, I certainly don't!
But ya better find out some day.
'Cause if you don't.
No one will do it for you.
No takes life's risks for you.
No one can do your job.
It's like climbing a mountain with a team.
They're always there for ya.
But if you slip loose of the line.
They can't jump off too to get you.
No one will do it for you.
I've watched people who rely on others their whole lives.
And where do they wind up when the "Real World" comes knockin'?
A ditch.
They can't rely on themselves.
And the other person is long gone.
No one will do it for you.
But when you've just resigned yourself.
To a life of torture.
Stew on this-
No one can do it for you.
But they can sure help.
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- America -- Randa, 17:16:45 09/26/02 Thu
America
America my home,
Where the buffalo roam.
America where children play,
And get an education almost every day.
America the land of the free,
Where I can be, well…me.
America you mean so much!
You have admirers by the bunch.
Yet enemies came knocking ‘pon your door,
America you must fight once more.
You were attacked by terrorist,
The urge for payback..do not resist.
America don’t let them win,
Never forget how much trouble they’re in.
Mostly America remember who we are,
We are all the future near and far.
Don’t loose your head, with evil keep level.
For you don’t want to do deeds of the devil.
America my home,
Where antelopes roam.
Where different religions have a say,
On a clear or stormy day,
America the land of the brave,
The land where I must behave.
America have a care,
Behave yourself over there!
The giants are awake .We come together once more,
Making our way to destroy evils door.
America, America, It is the end of the day!
There is much more to be told, but What can I say?
For what is in my heart,
Can never be pulled apart,
And be seen by those around me,
In America The home of the brave and land of the free..
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- My Best Friend (a true story) -- Randa, 16:58:25 09/25/02 Wed
My Best Friends
June 3rd 2001, I will never forget that day,
When I heard my brothers say,
They were leaving and going to live with their mom,
To me that was such a bomb.
They were upset and yelling real loud
So I decide to just leave that crowd.
I ran to my Grandmothers house next door,
I just couldn’t listen to them anymore.
I cried and cried waiting for silence.
I fell on my knees unable to think unable to balance.
Then I ran back home,
Only to find they were still there to roam.
I locked myself in the restroom and decided to scream,
“SHUT UP!” I was feeling really mean.
I soon unlocked the door and hid in my room,
With my dog, and cried with gloom.
I then called my friend who I trusted.
Who comforted me, while I busted,
My lungs and feelings out.
And All I’d do was sit there and pout.
Since then my friend has been there,
When I need her anywhere.
My brothers are back and talking to us.
I still can’t believe that the fuss,
Was because of a C.D. that was bad.
Talking about this is making me sad.
My friends stood there beside me through thick and thin,
That proves she was truly my best friend.
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- Do you remember the time? -- Haven, 14:10:41 09/05/02 Thu
(This is kind-of sad)
Do you remember the time...
You loved me?
Do you remember the time...
You cared?
Do you remember the time...
You'd never leave me?
The time you'd never dare?
Do you remember the time?...
You kissed me?
Do you remember the time...
We had?
Do you remember the time...
You'd hold me?
And the time you'd never get mad?
Do you remember the time...
It finished?
Do you remember the time...
You left?
Do you remember the time...
You yelled at me?
The time when your heart was the theif?
Do you remember the time...
When I began to cry?
Do you remember the time...
You didn't care?
Do you remember the time...
You hit me?
The time when my skin was so fair?
Do you remember the time...
I screamed?
Do you remember the time...
You raped?
Do you remember the time...
I lost to you?
And the time my whold life was shaped?
Do you remember the time...
You took the knife?
Do you remember the time...
You locked me in the room?
Do you remember the time...
You cut me?
The time my black eyes stared at the moon?
Do you remember the time...
I died?
Do you remember the time...
You wouldn't cry?
Do you remember the time...
I lay helpless?
And the time my soul began to fly?
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- If I Could -- Kya, 08:55:08 08/21/02 Wed
((It took me a while, but here ya go.))
If I Could
If I could catch a rainbow,
I would do it just for you.
And share with you its beauty,
On the days you're feeling blue.
If I could build a mountain,
You could call your very own,
A place to find serenity,
A place to be alone.
If I could take your troubles,
I would toss them In the sea.
But all these things I'm finding,
Are impossible for me.
I cannot build a mountain,
Or catch a rainbow fair.
But let me be what I know best;
A friend that's always there.
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- >>Arabian Legend<< -- Aviendha, 17:20:09 07/30/02 Tue
O beauty of the desert
which canters 'pon thy sand
legs of flowing motion
cloven daggers strike the land
dipped dial o' nobility
held high in the air
pay no heed to humidity
of the desert realm
deep liquid eyes
gleam in the night
as they look towards the skies
onto the havens
gallop atop the sands
dominate the dunes
taking power from the lands
that enables survival
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- .x. THE BEST THINGS ABOUT BEING A GIRL .x. -- .x. Kya .x., 13:12:08 07/25/02 Thu
THE BEST THINGS ABOUT BEING A GIRL
1.We can wear guys clothes. If they wear ours, they get funny looks.
2.Our friends dont say hello to us by punching us on the arm.
3.Yea- PMS sucks. But at least we have a good excuse to chow down on chocolate for a week.
4.If we're on a really big ship that happens to hit an iceberg, we'll probably get first dibs on a lifeboat.
5.We get the bigger apartment on Friends.
6.Girl talk. You know, how we just understand each other without having to explain stuff.
7.We never have to stand at a urinal and have other girls stare at us.
8.Dark circles under the eyes? A hickey? We can just cover them up with a little concealer. (how do guys live without that stuff?)
9.We dont have to shave our faces. (ouch that must hurt)
10.We can jump around a lot and shake our hair and it looks like we know how to dance.
11.Matt, Jared, Leo, Skeet, Brad, Scott, Ben. Need I explain this one?
12.We get yummy chocolates and flowers from guys
13.We dont have to dowse our food in Tabasco sauce just to look tough
14.That whole circumcision thing!
15.When we get married we get to keep our own name or choose one that we like even better.
16.We dont have to deal with sideburns. Whats up with those anyway?
17.At least one girl always survives in horror flicks.
18.We never have to wear tighty-whities (or jock straps!)
19.Even if we are ugly we have make-up to fix it!
20.We can take stuffed animals to bed no matter how old we are
21.We dont have to wear tuxedos to the prom.
22.Nose hair, ear hair, back hair - so not a problem for us.
23.SLUMBER PARTIES! Guys just dont know how much fun those are.
24.We dont have to worry about getting hurt, um, down there
25.That special bond we have with our moms-some day
26.We dont feel the need to slap our teammates butt when she makes a good play.
27.Nobody makes fun of us for liking Backstreet Boys or N'sync. Well almost nobody.
28.Pick up lines. They're not something we need to practice
29.We can get away with wearing platform shoes without looking goofy.
30.We give really really good advice
31.On t.v. shows we're always the ones that have coolest supernatural powers.
32.Dollhouse, Delia's, XOXO, Wet Seal.
33.We can put cotton balls between our toes, paint our nails, and not feel the least bit silly.
34.Daria and Lisa Simpson are girls
35.Bevis and Butt-Head arent
36.The coolest, sweetest songs and poems have been writen about you
37.We dont have to sit on our wallets
38.And our wallets have a place for change
39.Its entirely possible that we will marry Ben Affleck some day.
40.Our lives do not revolve around ESPN Sports Center
41.We can wear dresses without getting really weird looks from people
42.Its not required that we learn how to spit when we are young
43.We are called tomboys, Boys are called girlie
44.Fiona, Tori, Sarah, Trish, Kiana, Gwen.
45.We have nicer handwriting than guys. Well its true
46.Our magazines have Horoscopes.
47.We dont have to stuff boxers in our jeans. (How can that possibly be comfortable?)
48.Female pro athletes arent overpaid egomaniacs (yet)
49.Girls with guy first names (like Joey) sound cool, but it doesnt work the other way around.
50.We look great in tank tops. (Hint Hint to any guy reading this)
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- .x. If One Day... .x. -- Kya, 12:55:41 07/25/02 Thu
**If One Day...**
If one day you feel like
crying...
Call me.
I don't promise that
I will make you laugh,
But I can cry with you.
If one day you want
to run away...
Don't be afraid to call me.
I don't promise to ask you to
stop...
But I can run with you.
If one day you don't want to listen
to anyone...
Call me.
I promise to be there for you.
And I promise to be very quiet.
But if one day you call...
And there is no answer...
Come fast to see me.
Maybe I need you.
If I ever ignored you.
I'm Sorry...
If I ever made you feel bad,
Or put you down.
I'm Sorry...
If I ever thought I was bigger,
Or better than you.
I Luv You...
Don't ever forget that!
Through bad times and good,
I'll always be here for you.
I am Sorry...
For everything wrong I've ever done.
I'm writing this because
What if tomorrow never comes?
What if inever get to say good-bye,
Or give a you a BIG hug?
What if i never get to say I'm sorry,
Or I love you?
Because what if tomorrow never comes?
I LOVE YOU!
FRIENDS ALWAYS!!!
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- .x. Ragged Old Flag .x. -- .x. A Playa .x., 12:35:11 07/25/02 Thu
I walked through a county courthouse square,
On a park bench an old man was sitting there.
I said, "Your old courthouse is kinda run down."
He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town."
I said, "Your old flagpole has leaned a little bit,
And that's a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it."
He said, "Have a seat," and I sat down.
"Is this the first time you've been to our little town?"
I said, "I think it is." He said, "I don't like to brag,
But we're kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag.
"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there when
Washington took it across the Delaware.
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing Say Can You See.
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin' at its seems.
"And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on though.
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg,
And the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag.
"On Flanders Field in World War I
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun.
She turned blood red in World War II.
She hung limp and low by the time it was through.
She was in Korea and Vietnam.
She was sent where she was by her Uncle Sam.
"She waved from our ships upon the briny foam,
And now they've about quit waving her back here at home.
In her own good land here she's been abused --
She's been burned, dishonored, denied, and refused.
"And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the lands.
And she's getting threadbare and wearing thin,
But she's in good shape for the shape she's in.
'Cause she's been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more.
"So we raise her up every morning,
take her down every night.
We don't let her touch the ground
and we fold her up right.
On second thought, I do like to brag,
'Cause I'm mighty proud of that Ragged Old Flag."
Happy Birthday America!
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- Shadows Of War -- Holly xxx, 08:16:47 07/25/02 Thu
I sit in my derelict channel of doom,
the harsh crash of gunfire envelopingme,
it is wide here in this trench,
though in my head there is nno room...
planes thunder above my head,
my hands shake as i write this,
i am powerless, nothing can be said,
as i wait for death's cold kiss,
lights glare in my clased eyes
as a tool of armageddon explodes from the sky,
i hear other men's anquished cryie,
as they feel death's soft sigh,
the clouds are chilling and grey
no man's land is a desert of greif and pain,
out of this war there is no way,
and my tears fall along with the rain...
((there! whaddya think of that? i like the last two lines best.))
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- On Fairy Tales And Books -- Just a wondering poet..., 18:56:21 06/23/02 Sun
And they lived happily ever after in the end.
The hero saves the day and gets the girl.
The 'goodies' always seem to win.
Man must I hear that stupid story again?
If only life was an old Fairy tale,
The hero wouldn't die and we'd all get the gold!
Hah gold? More like the bronze.
Seems as if only dictators have people say to them, "All Hail!"
In the Fairy tales there are perfect Kingdoms every where we look.
Every one loves each other like a brother,
Yet here, in the real world, we got man made diseases.
Seems now serenity and brotherly love can only now be found in a book!
If only life was a book or Fairy tale...
Peace would be the top priority.
In reality war seems to be the first choice.
Sad, in the books you never hear a child cry or wail.
If only life were like the books...
No one would be depressed or cry as they slept.
A child would never stay up at night and wish for a toothbrush!
That is if the life were like Fairy tales and books...
This was selected to be published in a book by poetry.com and I wanted to know if it realy is worth it.
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- Just waiting -- Jasmine (No, you don't know me), 09:11:23 06/19/02 Wed
I wish I couldn’t dream,
I’d never know your face.
I’d never know the things that I know you’ll never say.
I’d never have this teasing,
This tearing up inside,
For I know the things you do and say are only in my mind.
I want you here with me,
Tightly in my hold,
But longing for your touch is quickly getting old.
So tell me one more time,
I love it when you say,
I love you dear so do not fear, just wait another day.
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- Nonsense -- Badhbh, 14:58:32 06/17/02 Mon
There was a young fellow from Redding
He was stuffed very full with some bedding
His weight doubled twice
But he thought that was nice
For it meant he could move without treading.
There was a young lass from Kilkenny
Who was very fond of her pennies
They were hid in a well
And she thought that was swell
Until it was time to buy some fat hennies.
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- Darkness -- Morgan Dread, 17:00:27 06/10/02 Mon
When sweetness turns to sorrow, It was there.
When you give up hope, It overwhelms you.
When you gripe and moan and disobey, It will turn you to It's own
Just give up
There is no hope
It will take you in, It will be your friend, and turn you to Its own.
No! Look to your Dreams! They have no Darkness
Only shadows of the Light.
Never give up hope
Your Dreams are always there:
No one to turn to but you.
They are yours and you are theirs.
When you need an answer, turn to them, for Dreams are only answers to questions not yet asked.
But even when Dreams are there, It is too.
Just give up.
There is no hope.
Darkness will take you in...
It will be your friend...
Till the very end...
And turn you to its own...
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- Puzzled -- Macha, 17:16:33 05/31/02 Fri
Oh no! Oh dear!
Please don't disappear!
We've only just begun,
and only had a little fun!
You honestly can't tell me, that I'm the one who's won,
For the contest's only started, and not gone and done!
Please come back,
discuss a yak,
For we have not fulfilled our rhyming bet!
No, no - not just yet!
So Badhbh, Morgan, Sequiro - please don't go!
We've got a competition to boot, and poems to mow!
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- hmmm, thought I might give this a try -- POF, 12:00:15 05/28/02 Tue
Midnight Wanderer
You said that you would come to me when I needed you.
You said that you would alway's be there.
So here I am, lying on the ground, dying in misery.
And I wonder, where are you?
See my blood?
It is pooling around me.
As I die and wonder where are you?
Then a shadow flits across the trees
Silver are thy's eyes
Pale is your skin
You walk forwards to me, and lay a hand on me
Though you were too late
I was gone
Wondering where are you?
Ok, I'm not sure whether or not to like it or not but ohh well, Not to bad was it?
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(NT) -- ..., 07:54:49 05/29/02 Wed
.. -- .., 15:43:38 02/14/03 Fri
Some Randomness -- Drazy, 17:56:01 05/27/02 Mon
I've been writing poems for piccytures(mostly horsey ones) and such and have been wondering... I need the Truth... Are these good poems or not?
Poetry In Motion
I ramble onwards, words that are meaningless.
I make no sense, it just isn’t fair,
When I least expect it, a voice calls out.
Calling my name to continue,
Poets are storytellers of the soul.
Sharing deep secrets, needed to be told.
One might not suspect it, thus be the case,
Poetry is a river moving at a rapid pace.
Always in motion no matter the rhythm,
Always poetry in motion.
Crashing Through
I’m falling I’m crashing through,
Help me I can’t help myself,
I’m falling increasing in pace,
Falling…Falling…Falling…
Through the window,
Shattering glass.
Through the door,
Splintering wood.
Falling…Falling…Falling…
The Black Plague
Just a shadow in the forest,
A sickness spreading in the darkness,
A dark moon over hanging in the night sky,
The cloaked femme, one with the darkness,
Hooves of ebonite and a soul of onyx,
This fatale is claimed to be a story,
Can you prove this?
No? I didn’t think so
Coming through the night as a terror,
Screams heard of this Banshee,
Will never be heard like so again.
Magenta
Take a look and rub your eyes,
Take a glance and believe it,
Take a chance and follow your heart,
Take my hand and cherish.
My only Wish
My only wish was to touch the clouds,
My only wish was to fly,
My only wish was to see the stars,
My only wish was to see,
My only wish was to know the faces,
Time had passed on by,
My only wish was to heal the souls,
That cried as I walked by.
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Now,now.. -- Badhbh Catha, 15:08:34 05/18/02 Sat
But who is this who joins our ranks?
We must consent and give our thanks
Surely a proud and super hero
But no, of course, 'tis only Seqiro
--
Oh yes.. that was cruel
But certainly very funny
I must make a fool
With a little fuzzy bunny
Now,now good competitors
In all seriousness we speak.
Is this not in foolish fours
In which you chose to seek?
Be sure your poems do contain
A good list of foolish words
I challenge ye to the quintain
Please don't hit the birds
(our numbers are growing ; be gay and rejoice; the blue cows are lowing but are giving to voice!)
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Wait! -- Badhbh Catha, 14:02:35 05/17/02 Fri
Wait! Don't go, at least not yet
We've hardly begun our rhyming bet
Nonsense up and nonsense low
Jibberish all in a row
How is a noble knight to fare
when her opponents seem to scare?
At least of honored words you spake
of work and school and Dreamscape
Err.. that last one was a stretch
my brain is slowing at it's fetch
Perhaps some assitance you could give
To a poor poets mindless sive..
(Come! Compete! Lets have some fun. Words to eat and lines to run!)
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Challenge.. -- Badhbh Catha, 15:04:54 05/11/02 Sat
(warning.. following message is non poemish.)
Hear Ye.. Hear Ye..
I challenge anyone willing.. to a Match of Nonsense!
Completely friendly and more of a spread of good nonsense poems than a competition..it should be amusing should anyone -ahem- accept.
Fellow guardians... I am expectant.. I've seen quite enough to be positive you could put some of that nonsense to rhyme...
*cough*
I await the first challenger..
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-- -- Badhbh, 13:17:16 05/11/02 Sat
Clock Wise
A clocks rules are each unique
But basically the same
Do not climb a mountain peak
then suddenly fall lame
But if you must, you should be sure
To have a friend or two
For if you are wont a fishing lure
They could always just eat you!
Enough of this nonsense
It is of clocks we speak
Not of what would be, hence,
Or of mountain peaks.
The center of it's knowlege
And it has quite a bit you know
Is built around a garden hedge
yes, and of course, below
My garden is very pretty
All manicured and green
with a resident kitty
who is hardly ever seen.
But of what was I speaking?
Oh bother I do forget
Unfortunately time is leaking
And I truly do regret
I'm Late!
(another little ditty, oh yes, it's me, I'm back, unfortunately for the witty.. and the time I lack! )
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ANYONE? -- Kate, 14:20:32 05/09/02 Thu
Does anyone wanna write me a good love poem? please help , its for school
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Acrostic Nonsense -- player, 15:51:56 05/03/02 Fri
BANANA
'Baboons are cruel,' said the monkey,
'And apes are terribly mean
Not only is the giraffe funky,
And the salamander seen
Never tell the parrot Bunky
Another's gone and been.'
One more, for a fun word:
VACUUM
Violas ate the cheesecloth
And plates - they played kazoo, as
Cute and cuddly crocodiles went 'mew mew mew mew'
Ukeleles made a waterfall and
Umbrellas ran the race, yet
Money may be nothing, and yellow has a face.
Now that was some Vacuum nonsense... Sry for the oddities seen here... Tune in later for some more queer nonsense...
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America -- Xixini Melee, 13:19:45 04/20/02 Sat
America:
The battle tredges on,
Arriving to dawn,
We fight to be free,
For the world to see,
With courage and bravery,
We fight for no slavery,
Heads held held high for laws to be erased,
"We want to be free! We don't want to be disgraced!"
Then just when it looks like we've lost to our foes,
The smoke clears when the wind blows,
Our flag stands there with a couple rips, maybe a dent,
It never gave in, just like an American like it represents,
It stands there declaring that we are free!
It makes us proud to the highest degree,
It stands there with its red, white, and blue,
I'm proud to be an American, are you?
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Then The Snow Falls -- A player, 06:46:53 04/15/02 Mon
Then The Snow Falls
When the wind grows cold,
And the flowers fold,
Summer days flee,
Leaving winter glee,
Bathing suits put away,
And coats readied for play.
Limonaide gone.
Cider come.
Water guns are stored,
And sleds of board,
Long to coast,
On wintery white.
Then the snow falls.
Then it falls.
When mothers wish for spring,
All the children sing,
Fall has past,
Finally, at last!
Fireplaced stacked with wood,
as father said it should.
Water guns are stored,
And sleds of board,
Long to coast,
On wintery white.
Then the snow falls.
Then it falls.
When animals pass,
And kids take up class,
Wrapped in blankets warm,
Around the fire they do swarm,
Hot chocolate steaming high,
Served with pumpkin pie.
Then the snow falls.
Then it falls.
Dark heavens.
Sweeping wind.
Smokey aromas.
Tiny flakes of white dreams
Float on the breath of Jack Frost,
Tickling noses,
Crunching soft,
Blanketed beauty.
Veiled in white.
Then the snow falls.
Then it falls.
falls.
falls.
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Poem -- Player of many characters, 20:41:27 04/12/02 Fri
Death
In a house there was a scream
It became silent as my brother walked up
He comes into my room and finds me on the bed
He calls my name...
I say yes but he did not hear me.Why?
He shakes me...
I say what he still does not hear me.Why?
I see tear in his eyes..
I say whats wrong...he doesnt hear me.
I begin to get scared not knowing what was going on.
I scream and try to move then i realized i was dead.
I now remeber that someone had choked me to death.
But there was no way of telling my brother.
I wanted him to know i loved him and wished to say my last good bye.
But he still does not hear.
I want to hug him i want to stay alive.
But there was no turning back.
At the funeral my brother was only there.
Everyone else knew about my death but did not come.
Not even my parents.
Why would they do this?
Doesn't anyone care?
Yes only one does and that is my loving brother.
I haven't lived my whole life
I haven't had my dream come true.
All i had was a nightmare that never ends.
My brother visits my grave everyday.
My parent still do not go to visit.
I had said when i was alive that i hated my parents,my life,and my future.
But i did not know this was going to be the answer.
If i knew i was going to die i wouldn't of said such a brutal statement.
I wished i was there with my brother.
I wished this had never happened.
This is what happens if you say such a statement...
Death
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the song that just happend to come to my mind -- ME, 14:06:12 04/12/02 Fri
She watches the rain fall
as the sky turns to dark
the robins tune has yet to start
as the storm rolls on
and the clouds begin to part
*chorus*
what you say shall come now
the sun begins to shine now
when will her story end
*chorus*
Listen with your heart
can you hear the wind
its time now to go
and begin
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An English assignment..... -- Drazy, 12:40:09 04/11/02 Thu
The object was to write 1 paragraph making a room sound like a person.... Can any1 guess what type of person this could be?
The empty room is covered in jewels visible to sight but the heart of it is hidden. The room contains of a sapphire ceiling and jade flooring, so different then the rest of the house, it stands alone. A bright topaz lamp lights the room hanging on a gold chain. It is unique for its beauty, elegance and style. The walls are covered with a floral pattern of roses and amaryllises. Upon the bed lay sheets of silks colored a magnificent ruby color with a tiny amethyst rhinestone pattern along the bottom. Other then that a few ornament decorate the room. A large mirror is in one corner and a small desk on the opposite side. There is a beautifully carved mahogany armoire faced across a tall marble vanity covered in makeup. It was like the house that was made of the finest crystal and only a small skipping stone would shatter it.
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Hey Diddle Diddle: The Revised Version -- Ilana, 20:05:36 04/10/02 Wed
***comments***
A poem written for 8th grade, and I actually did write it (I have the paper draft around here somewhere.) This is what I did instead of paying attention in science class. My english teacher actually accused me of taking this from a book. (die, Mr. Conway!) Grr.
***back to the poem***
The teacup and the saucer
Were chatting, one afternoon,
When their discussion was interrupted
By an overbearing spoon.
The spoon had had a problem:
The fork got home too late,
He'd planned on dinner earlier
With just the knife, his date.
But something must've happened,
The fork didn't show up.
He didn't come to dinner,
Didn't come to sup.
The knife was very worried,
And upset about her date.
The fork's habitually punctual,
And almost never late.
He was hopping towards the diner,
When he got stopped by a plate.
Something about a cow,
And that he couldn't be late.
"There's something going on out here,"
Said the talking plate,
"And I hate to inform you,
But you'll have to miss your date."
"Now, why is this? I do inquire,"
Said the fork, upset.
"You caused a bunch of trouble,
And the knife is quite bereft."
"There's a celebration,"
The chagrined plate replied,
"And you're to attend, or so I'm told.
We have no time to bide."
When they reached the celebration,
It was attended in full force.
Including all kinds of animals:
A cat, a dog, a horse.
They made it just in time, they say
For the party to really start.
They danced, and danced the night away,
Drinks served a la carte.
The cat picked up her fiddle,
And played a merry tune,
The lil dog started laughing,
And the cow jumped o'er the moon.
Everyone was swinging, now,
The ending coming soon,
And to top it all, the grand finale:
The dish ran away with the spoon!
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[My Song....] -- Amanda (player of many), 16:05:31 04/09/02 Tue
She walked out the front door,
She was walkin off a cliff
She stopped to check on the weather,
and she stopped to make sure her ciggarette was lit.
She had a purpose,
she couldnt define,
laying heavy on the mind.
And she walked out into the nothingness to see what she could find.
She was searching for a something,
without a name or a face.
Just a purpose...
To keep everything else peripheral.
Thats as far as ive gotten so far, i can play the guitar to it and all, but my voice is crap heh
Amanda
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Oh -do- Stop. -- Badhbh, 15:10:25 04/07/02 Sun
Oh please desist
From your endless wit
I honestly do implore.
I've had enough
Please leave at once
Don't forget to shut the door.
The puns, the jokes
The foolishness
The tasteless bawdy humor
How did I stand
To laugh at all?
Why didn't you leave sooner?
Adieu, Goodbye
Bon Voyage
Farewell and Au Revoir
Now go and bug
Some other soul
And leave me to my bore.
(Oh yes I surely realize, my lack of ryhming equitette. Perhaps I should take my poem's advice.. and wish we never met!)
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A Lack of Sleep. -- Badhbh, 14:38:03 04/07/02 Sun
Fall forward
Spring back
Or is it the other way around?
Spring forward
Fall back
Perhaps that is the better sound.
More forward
Less back
Or maybe it's the opposite?
Less forward
More back
Oh balderdash. Which is it?
-
Daylights Savings?
Or Daylights Losings?
Perhaps I should go back to sleep.
(Another silly poem; for you to digest. If I do aother one.... let's say I'll do my best.)
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Musings -- Badhbh, 14:05:10 04/07/02 Sun
Musings from an Unoccupied Mind
If, by chance
a fairy you see
dancing across some petals
Don't turn askance
for you may be
in good luck before she settles
Don't point her out
Or throw a rock
or yell or sob or stutter
Just try not to shout
and cut a lock
and wink and quietly mutter
'Here is some hair,
For your pillow;
Or whatever you please..'
She will jump in the air
And into a willow
And give a mighty big sneeze.
Moral: Don't give your hair to a fairy. They're allergic.
(Yes, yes.. it's quite full of nonsense.. But honestly the best I can do.
And yet all I can say is 'Oh hence' and (of course) 'I gratefully must 'Thank you'!)
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IT IS THE SOLDIER. . . . -- Kitana Blade, 16:15:26 04/04/02 Thu
IT IS THE SOLDIER...
It is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier, not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the soldier
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves under the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.
A protest raged on a courthouse lawn,
Round a makeshift stage they charged on,
Fifteen hundred or more they say,
Had come to burn a Flag that day.
A boy held up the folded Flag,
Cursed it, and called it a dirty rag.
An OLD MAN pushed through the angry crowd,
With a rusty shotgun shouldered proud.
His uniform jacket was old and tight,
He had polished each button, shiny and bright.
He crossed that stage with a soldier's grace,
Until he and the boy stood face to face.
"FREEDOM OF SPEECH," the OLD MAN said,
"Is worth dying for, good men are dead,
So you can stand on this courthouse lawn,
And talk us down from dusk to dawn,
But before any Flag gets burned today,
This OLD MAN IS GOING TO HAVE HIS SAY!
My father died on a foreign shore,
In a war they said would end all war.
But Tommy and I wasn't even full grown,
Before we fought in a war of our own.
And Tommy died on Iwo Jima's beach,
In the shadow of a hill he couldn't quite reach,
Where five good men raised this Flag so high,
That the WHOLE DAMN WORLD COULD SEE IT FLY.
I got this bum leg that I still drag,
Fighting for this same old Flag.
Now there's but one shot in this old gun,
So now it's time to decide which one,
Which one of you will follow our lead,
To stand and die for what you believe?
For as sure as there is a rising sun,
You'll burn in Hell 'fore this Flag burns, son"
Now this riot never came to pass
The crowd got quiet and that can of gas,
Got set aside as they walked away
To talk about what they had heard this day.
And the boy who had called it a "dirty rag,"
Handed the OLD SOLDIER the folded Flag.
So the battle of the Flag this day was won
By a tired OLD SOLDIER with a rusty gun,
Who for one last time, had to show to some,
THIS FLAG MAY FADE, BUT THESE COLORS DON'T RUN!!!!!!!!!
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A happy poem? -- Lolita, 23:28:25 04/03/02 Wed
The lion skims along its side
The gulls fly through its breath
The shells rest at its edge
The shore flees from its grasp
The Joy
The Flight
The Sigh
The Shine
are born
are made
are sung
are lit
are
the sea
-Lolita
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¥Thoughts of Mine¥ -- Chelsey, 16:26:48 04/01/02 Mon
Life
Most people end up living life,
Walking in aimless circles.
Life is spent in blindness and pain,
Anger clouds each and every body’s minds.
No one can prevent it,
It happens to us all.
To some love is a useless emotion,
In the end it always hurts.
The one time you’ve felt it,
You can never live without…
Although many will try.
Life goes on after a first painful love,
It’s painful, but it goes on.
Friends are a way of escape from this,
As is crying.
Tears may cloud your vision, but they help to cleanse the soul.
No one will ever realize the moments they could have shared,
The times, which could have been spent in happiness,
Rather than pain.
Throughout one’s life all people can remember,
Are the times when we’ve been hurt,
No one remembers the times they were happy,
Until of course it’s too late.
No one ever realizes the best dreams happen when your awake,
Everyone wants to walk about in life, half asleep,
So that they do not have to deal with reality,
But to some reality is the best thing about life.
Believing that life is about the number of breaths taken is absurd,
It’s about the number of moments that take your breath away.
Although with some there aren’t many moments, which touch us so,
So many end up living life in agony of each arising day,
Until our last,
That is the day when we wish that life could continue forever…
What It's Actually Like
I close my eyes,
and wipe away my tears.
I open them again,
and back are all my fears.
They never go away,
they're always right there.
I close my eyes again,
but does anyone even care?
I doubt they do,
cuz they just don't see.
What it's like,
to actually be me.
From the pain that’s been caused,
the tears I've cried.
And all because,
people have lied.
All this hurt,
that's been caused.
Those people will eventually pay,
and I hope they do.
All these fears,
and all this pain.
Now thanks to them,
things will never be the same.
Judgemental
Don't judge me for what I look like,
Don't judge me for what I say,
Don't judge me when I cry,
And don't judge me when I pray.
Please don't listen to rumors about me,
They may not be true.
How would you like it if,
I believed bad rumors 'bout you?
Be yourself at all times,
Don't listen to what people say.
Together we can get through it,
Just take the day by day.
Please, whatever you do,
Do not lie to me.
I've always told you the truth,
Whatever that may be.
Judging me could be the,
Worst thing you can do.
There's a lot you don't know,
I have feelings too.
If you get to know me,
You will come to see.
There is no act here,
All I am is.... me.
Icy Blue
You have got to have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,
They used to draw me in, and left me wanting more,
But sometime over the coarse of the past few weeks,
Those eyes that used to hold so much, have become empty towards me,
They have become cold and unforgiving ice.
The friendship I thought we had, has disappeared,
There’s nothing left for us.
Saying to myself this can’t be my fault,
There’s something in me that tells me it is,
Whether or not I did cause those blue eyes of yours to become so cold,
I ask you to please forgive me,
Because I hade no intention to make that happen.
The way you made me feel when you were around was something I’d never felt before.
Now that you no longer speak to me, there’s nothing left for me,
I try to think of something to say,
But nothing seems to come, or if it does, it seems useless.
I’ve tried to forget the look you give me, although there really is no words to describe it,
Nothings there, no feelings, not happiness or even hate.
Thoughts of what I can do race though my head,
Most end in despair, nothing I can think of will help.
When I hear a song on the radio that reminds me of you, I almost start to cry.
But I know crying will do no good, for there will be no one to comfort me, to help me back on my feet.
So I suck it up, and try to make the best,
Only to come home and want to scream at myself for not talking to you today.
Someday I hope, those eyes will again hold friendship for me,
For I cannot stand to look upon those ice blue eyes and see nothing at all.
Well all those are original works by me, they are ok, I just wrote Life for and English project. Tell me what you think...I could always use suggestions and comments.
Thanks!
Chelsey
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Let Me -- Toireasa, 15:34:45 03/28/02 Thu
Confusion.
That’s what I see,
buried deep inside
your mysterious soul.
Let me;
Let me be the one to hold you.
Lost.
That’s what I understand,
a maze hidden inside
your shrouded mind.
Let me;
Let me be the one to guide you.
Hurt.
That’s what I find,
disguised within
your beautiful eyes.
Let me;
Let me be the one to heal you.
Let me;
let me be that one to help you.
Let me;
let me be the one you finally love.
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Everything you won't be -- Toireasa, 19:48:14 03/26/02 Tue
I am...
Everything that you Fear.
The beautiful flower,
Bobbing it’s head merrily to you,
Contains my Free Spirit.
Happy, Careless, and Beautiful.
You Fear,
That I have so much more than you.
So much more Glory,
So much more Life.
I am...
Everything that you Hate.
The Glorious Sun rise,
Shedding Golden Light upon a Darkened world,
Contains my Fierce Joy.
Dignity, Love, and Light.
You Hate,
That I can contain so much more than you.
So much more Passion,
So much more Spirit.
I am...
Everything that you Despise.
The Howling Wolf,
Light flashing off of silver hairs in a Wild Power,
Contains my Comely Being.
Talent, Cunning, and Rapture.
You Despise,
That I Feel so much more than you.
So much more Vitality.
So much more Love.
You can be...
Everything that you hate about me.
But if you don’t have the courage to reach out for it,
And LIVE,
Then you are naught but the Lowliest Leech.
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Pants!!!!! -- Hazeem, 13:09:45 03/21/02 Thu
Pants is a fun word to say!
I like pants.
pants are pantyish
pants are yummy
yay pants!!!
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Oh the seasons there are -- Xixini Melee, 11:30:03 02/27/02 Wed
When the air turns clear,
And summer gets near,
You want it to come,
But you also don't want winter to be done,
But what about spring,
When the birds like to sing,
And don't forget fall,
What else is there to call?
Oh the seasons there are,
Why is fall so far?
Why is summer so near?
Why do seasons only come once a year?
When it is winter you can go outside and play in the snow,
And in spring you can plant flowers and watch them grow,
When it is fall the leaves fall off the trees,
And in summer you can get stung by bees, ouch!
Why couldn't all the seasons be at one time,
It could be snowing outside, but the sun could still shine,
Oh the seasons there are,
Some are near, and some are far.
ooc:this is one of my best works
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~The Boy~ -- Midas's Player, 17:54:43 02/19/02 Tue
If you have chance,
To take a stop and glance,
You may feel something you haven't before,
And you may want to feel it some more.
Strange as it seems,
You may think about him in your dreams.
It's just like yesterday,
'He has cooties!'is what you'd say.
But now he is your heart's desire.
His love is what lights your fire.
And oneday at the park, he kisses your face.
Then he blushes, smiles, and dashes away.
You touch your cheek,
Your smile is meek.
FINALLY, you know that he loves you.
THEN YOU THINK.... "WHOA, HE's CUTE!!!"
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-- Appa, 18:42:03 02/19/02 Tue
Pants!!!! -- Hazeem, 13:26:06 03/21/02 Thu
The silent shadow -- Aduial, 06:18:19 02/19/02 Tue
The silent shadow,
Of a mighty fellow,
With wings spread wide and vast.
Swift as the wind and just as fast,
With eyes of that of stone.
Eyes and talons as cold as steel,
Just ready for a tasty meal.
The silent shadow,
whom no one would mock,
The silent shadow of a hawk.
Whipped it up in 5 minutes for my Litriture homework during Art lesson lol
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The Unicorn -- Alhanna Starbreeze, 18:30:37 02/10/02 Sun
Prancing on the moonlight
Dancing on the wind
That is where my song begins
Can you tame her
Can you ride
Can you run with a unicorns stride
Through the night
And through the day
She comes to you with no delay
Together across
The star studded skies
That is where the unicorn lies
Can you see her
Can you fly
Hope her spirit never dies
For that is where all magic lies
In the unicorns sorrowful eyes
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"The Unicorn Dance" -- Cowgirl, 10:46:05 02/10/02 Sun
Darkness spreads across the land.
Stars shimmer in the sky.
The time of the dance is at hand,
Even though griffins hunt nearby.
First emerge the suckling colts,
Prancing in the moonlight.
Around them the yearlings bolt,
Eager to dance throughout the night.
One by one the stallions appear,
Holding proud heads high.
Elegant mares to them stand near,
With skewed horns piercing the sky.
Silently the steeds gather around,
One by one, side by side,
Bending low with alcorn to the ground,
Musical hoof beats their only guide.
The midnight dance begins.
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Fading -- Lykanthos, 17:15:50 02/09/02 Sat
The ink dries,
The words sink,
The wolf cries,
While I think.
The ink,
It fades.
The words,
They disappear.
The cries,
They drift.
My thoughts,
They stay.
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