Poems and Songs

Your own or your favorites–post them here for everyone to appreciate.

Date: March 6, 2006

Author: Robert Coontz (Administrator)

Categories: Fiction, poetry, and fanfiction

Comments RSS TrackBack 256 comments

1

King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:13

Possibly first post, so I’ll write something long later.

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King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:17

YAAAAAAAYYYYYY

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:19

These content-free first posts are a waste of space. In that spirit, here’s another one: the Muse Song I wrote a while ago, to the tune of “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys.” (Your parents will know the tune if you don’t.)

Muses don't take life for granted like most folks you know. They stand in the margin bemusedly watching the show. They chatter and snicker and gossip and bicker, And somehow they all get along. At the end of the day they will go on their way Singing this muse-ical song:
CHORUS: Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Muses. Don't let 'em build gadgets or throw custard pies, Stare into space and get stars in their eyes. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Muses. They're just a big pain, 'cause they'll wear out your brain Telling you things you don't know.

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King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:19

What happened to my poem I wrote? I wrote it on #2?

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:22

I never saw a poem. Did it contain any words that might have triggered the spam filter?

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King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:26

It went like this.

It was a post that I got first
I declared a toast to quench my thirst
And now I’m happy
I sing out loud
King george, you really make me proud

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7

MontgomeryGurl

in March 6th, 2006 @ 09:37

Okay, here’s a song off a CD I just got. It’s about cutting. It really got me, because a lot of my friends are dealing or have dealt with cutting, and I’ve had enough problems with self-inflicted pain to understand where they’re coming from. This is really how they feel. I know, because I’ve been there. It’s really beautiful, and very poignant.

Not a stranger, no I am yours
Crippled anger and tears that still drip sore
Fragile frame aged with misery
When our eyes meet, I know you see

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
Iâ€™m tired of feeling so alone
Relief exists I find it when â€¦ I am cut

I may seem crazy, Iâ€™m painfully shy
These scars wouldnâ€™t be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye
I feel alone here and cold here
Oh, I dont want to die
But the only anesthetic makes me feel anything kills inside

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
Iâ€™m tired of feeling so alone
Relief exists I find it when â€¦ I am cut

I am not alone,
I am not alone

Not a stranger, no I am yours
Of crippled anger and tears that still drip sore

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
Iâ€™m tired of feeling so alone
Relief exists I found it when â€¦ I was cut

I just love it. “These scars wouldn’t be so hidden/ If you would just look me in the eye” So true. She put it all so well.

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 6th, 2006 @ 11:06

In case other MBers want to find it, that’s Plumb, from the CD “Chaotic Resolve.”

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9

MontgomeryGurl

in March 6th, 2006 @ 12:31

Oh, yeah, kind of forgot about that part…..

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10

Duncan_Quagmire

in March 6th, 2006 @ 14:37

“Ready and Waiting to Fall” — Mae

Drowning, just as fast as I can.
But don’t throw me a line, don’t reach out your hand.
Because I’m on the brink of something beautiful and I want to sing about it.
But I don’t know where to begin.
Write it in a letter but the words don’t come out right.
Trying to explain how nobody can do like me.
You don’t understand just how helpless I get since the day we met.
Oh, can you feel it yet?

It’s never been more perfect being alive.
I’ve never been so satisfied.
Oh…

I could feel something different for the first time.
Heaven made sense and all the words rhymed.
No chance of stopping it now.
I’m taking it all.
And now I’m caught in the air,
It’s a good glide.
Pass it up, wouldn’t dare, what a ride,
I remember being ready and waiting to fall just like I did tonight.

Spinning around and around until my left was my right and up became down.
With just one look you knocked me off my feet.
So unable to speak.
Oh how you made me weak.
Though it was a while ago, I can recall.
That moment, so ready and waiting to fall.
Can you take me back in time remembering when you captured my heart?
Over and Over again.

Ready and waiting to fall

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11

BlackRaven

in March 6th, 2006 @ 15:25

“Memories of Sorrowless Evenings” –BlackRaven (yes, me)

when the last candle
in the room
flickers out
dimly lit
like a cobweb floating softly
and we huddle together
in entire darkness
waiting
waiting —
we remember
those summer evenings
catching fireflies
in the padded grass yard
while the trees sway in the wind
we remember
the sunlight gleaming
streaming down through
the old
oak
branches
lightfloods’ beauty
nature’s majesty
and
“we remember”
we cry to the wind
like the incense
from the candle
in the dark

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12

frankenfaerie

in March 6th, 2006 @ 15:51

this is probably the most educational song i have ever heard. seriously, i am in an obsessively good mood today

this is “Why Does The Sun Shine(The Sun Is A Mass Of Incandescent Gas)” by They Might Be Giants

The sun is mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace,
where hydrogen is built into helium at a temperature of millions of degrees.
Yo Ho it’s hot, the sun is not a place where we could live.
But here on earth there’d be no life without the light it gives.

We need its light.
We need its heat.
We need its energy.
Without the sun, without a doubt, there’d be no you and me.

The sun is mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace.
Where hydrogen is built into helium at a temperature of millions of degrees.

The sun is hot.
[It is so hot that everything on it is a gas, iron, copper, aluminum and many others.]

The sun is large.
[If the sun were hollow, a million earths could fit inside, and yet the sun is still only a middle-sized star.]

The sun is far away.
[About 93,000,000 miles away, and thats why it looks so small!]
But even when its out of sight, the sun shines night and day.

The Sun gives heat.
The Sun gives light.
The sunlight that we see.
The sunlight comes from our own sun’s atomic energy.

[Scientists have found that the sun is a huge atom-smashing machine. The heat and light of the sun come from the nuclear reactions of hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, and helium!]

The sun is mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace.
Where hydrogen is built into helium at a temperature of millions of degrees.

i do not know about you, but i definately found it very enjoyable! (finally, a group who puts their brains into their music!)

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13

Violetfire

in March 6th, 2006 @ 15:54

I am alone
Without you
I am nothing more than
A wilted flower in the night
The days grow dull
My heart grows lonely
I try to go
To find you
But nothing is there
Only a memory
Only a dream
But a dream is better than nothing
A memory can hold power
And give me strength
When I am alone
I am waiting
And waiting
For you

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14

Sphinx

in March 6th, 2006 @ 16:31

Okay, here is a collection of some of my poems and one song, for you guys to point and laugh at.

Lost At Sea

All alone on a deserted island
Lost at sea.
Why is no one ever
There for me?

By myself, all alone, no one
Reaching out.
Thought someoneâ€™d help but now
Iâ€™ve fallen into doubt.

Drowning in a river
Of my tears.
Thereâ€™s no getting away
From my fears.

When will this torture
Finally be done?
When will this war
Finally be won?

It canâ€™t go on like this
Canâ€™t end this way.
But I donâ€™t have the strength
To live another day.

I canâ€™t take it, canâ€™t
Do it anymore.
There has to be another way out
Some other door.

No one to hear me
When I call.
No one to help me
When I fall.

No one else here
Itâ€™s just me.
On a deserted island
Lost at sea.

>>Can’t Believe (Song)

I look out the window but I don’t see the view
I’m too busy just thinking of you
I close my eyes but I can still see
The image of you, how you used to be

You’re always at the front of my mind
I think of you, and I need to find
That face that’s always in my head
I replay over what you said

I love you, words so strong
And I just can’t believe that you are gone
I need you, words so dear
And I just can’t believe that you’re not here

Time goes by, but I don’t know
To me everything goes too slow
Seasons pass, but I don’t care
Because I look around, and you’re not there

How could you go, how could you leave
And even worse, you had to theive
You stole my heart and went away
But I won’t forget what you used to say

I love you, words so strong
And I just can’t believe that you are gone
I need you, words so dear
And I just can’t believe that you’re not here

You’re not here…….

>>Endless

Trapped in here, no way to get out
I don’t know what to do
I scream until I can’t anymore
But nobody’s listening
Nobody cares
About me.

Where is everyone?
So cold, so all alone
A pale, empty moon stares down
Nobody up there
Nobody down here
With me.

I am frozen
Like my bleeding heart
I huddle up and go down
Trying to keep warm
But the ground is cold
Like me.

When there’s nowhere to go
Where do you go?
You have to go somewhere
Because life goes on
Doesn’t it?
Not me.

I’m stuck here
And there’s no getting out
No light at the end
Of the tunnel
Because there is no end
For me.

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15

frankenfaerie

in March 6th, 2006 @ 16:37

yep. this poem is mine. and i think i just found a new obsession.

The soft kiss of the ocean at my feet
Wraps around my legs, calling me…calling me…
Follow the night, follow the river
Come to the vast, deep sea
Donâ€™t breathe donâ€™t struggle
Iâ€™ll hold you safe to me
Donâ€™t trust the sea
Donâ€™t trust the sea
Struggle to rise, rise to breathe
The night air rolling off the sea
Wrapping you in its embrace
It wonâ€™t want you to go…you donâ€™t want to go…
Gotta leave gotta hide gotta run gotta live
You canâ€™t live in the sea
Give in to the sweet cry of the land
Leave the sea
The beautiful sea
The calm sea
The blue sea
The sweet scent of fresh breezes
Rolling onto the coast
The sea wants you to walk in
Fill your lungs
Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out breathe in
Love the air be the air live
The soft warm currents gently pull me forward
Donâ€™t go in
They grip my hands leading me in
Donâ€™t go in
Blue swirls slowly around my heart
Donâ€™t go in
Small waves make a living scarf around my neck
Donâ€™t go in
Donâ€™t fall asleep
Donâ€™t drift away…
…pull away
Donâ€™t go in
But Iâ€™m past the point of self-awareness…drowning…
No more me
Just the sea.

the sad thing is, i don’t swim.

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16

Darth Yoda

in March 6th, 2006 @ 16:45

They Might Be Gaints is awesome!!

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17

King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 6th, 2006 @ 17:37

like #11. I think I can relate to it, if I really get the message right.

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18

frankenfaerie

in March 6th, 2006 @ 17:54

would it be possible to create a thread that allows bloggers to upload (clean) pictures as jpg, pdf, and/or bmp files?

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emogrl

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:11

a poetry thread? w00t!

hmm… alright. actually, i dont think this one is so great. oh vell.

hemitite
remembering just remembering the day we met both cheering for the same underdog in an unspoken part of this world we were glad to be there to unite + ignore the oppressors. just trying to forget trying to let go accepting that life has its glitches + im not @ fault for all

…cant ever let it go – my face had nothing to give – going deeper down – a thousand souls screaming inside me i cant take another – haunted to the end – i only have one mask, it isnt enough…
youre just like the rest of them evanescent after your problems belonged to me now theyre stuck inside screaming @ me every day because you like everyone else just walked away + im still taking away pain like a living drug people are supposed to avoid until theyre forced close up
…………..
come on + tell me whats wrong whats wrong dont hold back youll have to talk soon ill have so many pains that i cant brush them off but what does it matter im already in a hole too deep to climb out of + somewhere under the dirt are pains of my own that no one will see but they can only take so much cross the line + theyll become greater than all so come stay tell all get a good look @ my only mask – + say how ugly it is after the things haunting you have gone
… im @ fault for it all – cant ever let it go – my face had nothing to give – going deeper down – a thousand souls screaming inside – i cant take another – haunted to the end – i only have one mask it isnt enough… its never enough…

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20

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:15

Frankenfaerie, can I call you Frankfurter? Thanks. Frankfurter, how can you not swim? I love swimming, and boats. Messing about in boats is my favorite activity. Messing about in boats, just messing about in boats, messing about in boats… (Wind in the Willows, if you don’t cog the reference.)

I SAT BELONELY by John Lennon

I sat belonely by a tree
Humbled fat and small
A little lady sing to me
I couldn’t see at all.

I’m looking up and at the sky
To find such wondrous voice
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.

“Speak up! Come forth! You ravel me!”
I potty menthol shout.
“I know you hiddy by this tree!”
But still she won’t come out.

Such softly singing lulled me sleep
And in an hour or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
But still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight
A tiny little tiny pig
That sing with all its might.

“I thought you were a lady!”
I giggle-well, I may.
To my surprise the lady
Got up-and flew away.

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21

emogrl

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:15

come to think of it, it would be surprising if anyone understood my streams of conscience… well, if this is being helpful to whoever reads them – the last words in a lot of the sentences begin a different thought in a new sentence. yeah, that makes sense, ha

*hemitite* is a black stone w/ a metallic shine that is believed to absorb the negative energy surrounding it

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frankenfaerie aka frankfurter

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:47

20-i am capable of swimming, but i am probably the biggest germaphobe in the history of all things germaphobic
hence, i do not.

plus, i burn easily

did you know that most people recieve 80% of their lifetime sun-exposure by the time they reach 18 years of age?
just a random fact of the day…

boats? i went on a charter boat once for a snorkeling trip. it was quite traumatizing…i don’t live near the sea though…

19/21-excellent job! *throws confetti* *and gummy worms*

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23

Trillian of Rhodes

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:47

I guess I’ll post my poem here as well

There are stars in the sky above the city
but no one takes notice of them
the air is clogged
with smoke and structure
with voices and movements
with noise and light
They shine out there,
alone and apart
but, being ignored
they shrink into inky blackness,
the safety of solitude
the quiet of night

ok, I love comical poetry, especially lymerics. one of my favorite lymerics of all time is this, even though it isnt a proper lymeric:

there once was a girl from melbourne
who was hit on the head with a wombat
when they asked her if it hurt,
she said, “no, not a a bit,
you can do it again if you like”

it really isnt half so funny when it’s written down. to fully appreciate it you need some one with an australian accent to read it (and also a certain type of sense of humor).

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24

Trillian of Rhodes

in March 6th, 2006 @ 18:55

just to clarify, me fathers australian. (though he’s been living in the States so long his accent is mostly gone, but he can still do it if he tries).

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25

frankenfaerie

in March 6th, 2006 @ 19:15

i really like this bit–it’s the chorus of “Born in a Burial Gown” by Cradle of Filth:

Spawned scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going down
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown

i don’t know about you, but it reminds me of someone trying to save herself even though she was doomed at birth; no one ever saw her potential and she, too, became blind to it….

beautifully tragic.

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26

BlackRaven

in March 6th, 2006 @ 21:05

Oh yeah — They Might Be Giants rule!

“Solitary Darkness” by BlackRaven:

they are all gone
throw myself
flinging body and soul
out of the light
into darkness
where i am
completely solitary
completely
alone
no relevant brilliance
can save me now
made anew
with the harsh
rapid
breezestorm
unchanging
so dark
like the rippling waves of the sea
at dawn
i am alone
i know cold
i know wind
i know breathless
i know darkness

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27

BlackRaven

in March 6th, 2006 @ 21:10

Here is the chorus to a song I wrote…uh…I forgot the verses.

Rain sweeps away all exsistance
Flooding, whirling, spinning, twirling
As with my skin, I spy the wind
Through the rain.

And here’s a verse from another song (by me) — this one I forgot the chorus to:

Staring up at the moon’s left eye
A cold feeling in the plaid of the blanket
The blanket that when
It’s cold and dark at night
But the sun shines bright
In your heart
And you tell the kids to be quiet
Or you’ll bury their ashes
With the core of the limeade
You purchased at the corner store….

Yeah. Well. Sorry, I’m obsessed with poetry and lyrics, etc.

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28

BlackRaven

in March 6th, 2006 @ 21:26

Who wants to see the complete lyrics to the song “Turn Away” by me and my friend? Here they are:

The air is clear again
All of the smoke is gone
I see a spiderweb
Let’s just not look at it so we can forget

The cars are on the street
They’re makin’ lots of pollution
I see a gas station
It smells really bad so we’ll just turn away

CHORUS:
This is the world…
It’s full of things…
That we don’t lack…
So we just turn away
Away from everything
Away from all the people…
Of the world
[Of the world]

The clouds are in the sky
I see a bird pass them by
Maybe I should be like that
Passin’ by all the people I find inhuman

CHORUS 2x

Turn – a – way

Okay, so the rhythm makes SO much more sense if you actually listen to the song. But it’s good, isn’t it?

Here are the lyrics for one of my favorite songs…”Young Pilgrims” by The Shins…

A cold and wet November dawn
And there are no barkin’ sparrows
Just emptiness to dwell upon

I fell into a winter slide
And ended up the kinda kid who goes down chutes too narrow
Just eking out my measly pies

But I learned fast gotta
Keep my head up cause I
Know there is this side of me that
Wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just
Fly the whole mess into the sea

Another slow train to the coast
Some brand new gory art from way on high
I sink and then I swim all night

I watch the ice melt on the glass
While the elequent young pilgrims pass
And leave behind their trail
Imploring us all not to fail

Of course I was raised to
Gather courage from those
Lofty tales so tried and true and
If you’re able
I’d suggest it cause this
Modern thought can get the best of you

This rather simple epitaph
Can save your hide, no fallen lines

Fate isn’t what we’re up against
There’s no design, no flaws to find
There’s no design, no flaws to find

[End song]

By the way — Trillian? I got Amphigorey (the first one) today. I thought that “The West Wing” was totally creepy, and I got to reread “The Insect God”. They were so cool — and — the one about the girl and the old man was SAD. Thanks for telling me about them! They are awesome!

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29

BlackRaven

in March 6th, 2006 @ 21:31

“The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe

[Okay, maybe some of you already know this, but I thought I might as well…]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
” ‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
” ‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you.” Here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
“Lenore!” Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
“Surely,” said I, “surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
” ‘Tis the wind, and nothing more.”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore.”
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,—
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never—nevermore.”

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore!”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!–prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted–
On this home by horror haunted–tell me truly, I implore:
Is there–is there balm in Gilead?–tell me–tell me I implore!”
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil–prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us–by that God we both adore–
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting–
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.”

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

This has got to be my all-time favorite poem [by a professional poet, that is; the poetry that you guys post comes close, anyway. And that IS a compliment, considering that I read approximately ten poems a day, 24/7…]

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30

emogrl

in March 6th, 2006 @ 22:04

#26 + 27- ooh i thought of a relly big rainstorm in the middle of the night, maybe @ about this time of year…

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31

Axa

in March 6th, 2006 @ 22:11

BlackRaven, I thnk we’re kindred spirits! xD I love how you write.

Bit o’ mine here.

And this fallacy
Betrayed to me-
Withered
By the by

So acrid
In it’s taste
So bitter
In it’s lies…

Kudos to Ms. Dickenson for that little – part. I love her dashes. =D

My muse just left me, so that’s the only ine for now.

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32

Darth Yoda

in March 7th, 2006 @ 06:29

“Jabberwocky”
by Lewis Carroll

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal blade in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, Two! One, Two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumohing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And mome raths outgrabe.

I know thats wierd, but so am I.

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33

Violetfire

in March 7th, 2006 @ 16:06

I ♥ Jabberwocky! And so does Jadestone. And all you people who love poetry and deep music, you should go to the Wicked thread; we’ve posted a lot of the better songs there. Although they’re all great.

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34

evildude131

in March 7th, 2006 @ 16:13

T
RI
ANG
LEST
HEYCO
ULDBET
HENEW
HAIKUBU
TIHOP
ETHE
YAR
EN
T

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35

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

in March 7th, 2006 @ 16:23

I’ve memorized Jabberwocky. I wrote it out in advisory a couple days ago, and I’ve still got the pitchfork marks. I’m going to memorize “The Raven” next, I’ve got “The Walrus and the Carpenter” down oh-so-well.

Is there something wrong with being weird? Or wierd, if you must. Why does everything have to be normal? What is normal, anyway? “Normality restored-anything you still can’t cope with is therefore your own problem.”

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36

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 7th, 2006 @ 16:26

Minor correction: it’s borogoves, with no “r” after the “g.”

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37

Darth Yoda

in March 7th, 2006 @ 16:29

opps
i guess its because i always say it that way
ive memorized it to, but i used my book

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38

frankenfaerie

in March 7th, 2006 @ 17:01

i memorized “a dream within a dream” by poe:

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

i painted the last line on my messenger bag….it’s a tad annoying when people at my school ask what it’s all about though…

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39

evildude131

in March 7th, 2006 @ 17:32

dudes you all rock!

An ode to all you dudes who rock:

Dudes who rock, well they rock
They don’t stink like a stinky sock.
They have the right to the others, mock
Dudes who rock, they still rock

(ok maybe not an ode but still)

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40

Trillian of Rhodes

in March 7th, 2006 @ 18:02

I agree 39, you guys are great!
This is one of my favorite poems:

The Idea Of Order at Key West, Wallace Stevens

She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if what she sang was what she heard,
Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
It may be that in all her phrases stirred
The grinding water and the gasping wind;
But it was she and not the sea we heard.

For she was the maker of the song she sang.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.

If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped
On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres
Of sky and sea.

It was her voice that made
The sky acutest at its vanishing.
She measured to the hour its solitude.
She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there never was a world for her
Except the one she sang and, singing, made.

Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.

Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker’s rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.

I dont completely understand it, but it says stuff to me. About art, or creation and the compulsion to create things, and the difference between nature’s beauty and the type we make for ourselves.
Being weird or normal depends on what the majority of the population around classifies as weird or normal.

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41

Sphinx

in March 7th, 2006 @ 18:12

Why doesn’t anyone actually review anyone else’s work?

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42

frankenfaerie

in March 7th, 2006 @ 18:32

39-heck yes!

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43

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

in March 7th, 2006 @ 18:33

An excellent question, Phoenix, and one that needs an explanation like a bowl of tortilla chips needs salt.

I liked the verse about dudes who rock. Here, let me try:

Dudes Who Rock, by Juliette

Dudes who rock are pretty cool
They won’t bug you, as a rule
Or bore you to death, like school
Unless you’re just a silly fool
Or really stubborn, like a mule.

Dudes who rock are really nice
They don’t sting like dry ice
And they’re not parasites, like lice
Sometimes they’re Swiss, like edelweiss.
(They don’t hang from your mirror, like fuzzy dice.)

Dudes who rock are lots of fun
And to me, they’re number one
Their hair may or may not be dun
Let’s hope they don’t make a really bad pun.

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44

emogrl

in March 7th, 2006 @ 18:48

evildude131. luv your poetry. reminds me of crraw.

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45

Axa

in March 7th, 2006 @ 19:26

Japanese songs come out sounding very poetic when translated. At least to me.

Last Scene ( Asian Kung Fu Generation)

The rain disappeared from the beautiful blue sky
And the end has paid us it’s visit

Tracks were in the ground along the blooming flowers
Tears fell down along my cheek
Ah…
Somehow

In the signals that you put out
Slipping out of the night, if only something would change
Ah…
Somehow

The broken phone receiver and the conversation that isn’t going anywhere
However far we run, I wonder if
Our weak feelings and occupied bent forms in an important place
Will be white?

Softly cover your eyes
There’s a wonderland that you should take refuge in
Far away, a circuit breaker interrupted by a sound
It resounds “goodbye”

Softly cover your eyes
There’s a wonderland that you should take refuge in
Lost feelings spread out and burst open
Goodbye

The sky is so clear that it melts

Forgive me if my HTML doesn’t work, it hasn’t been lately. >.>

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46

Mer

in March 7th, 2006 @ 20:28

No plagiarizing.

Million Colors
by Mer
I am a million colors.
fuzzing, crowding, blurring, stretching, rolling.
I am the color of night.
Seven thousand three hundred fifty-two colors of dark and moon and stars.
I am the color of sun.
Eight thousand two hundred and six hot happy blazes in the sky.
One thousand and twenty-nine of those are especially for staying out later in summer.
I am the color of water.
Five thousand one hundred seventy-one droplets, rivers, puddle, oceans shining, mudding, raging, gentling.
I am the color of earth.
Nine thousand four hundred and fifty colors of wet earth, compost, sand, clay, loam and grass.
I am the color of love.
Ten thousand perfect red-pink-purple-blue hearts of love all over the world.
I am the color of me.
Forty-two colors! of purely my thoughts.
I have all these colors and more buzzing, curling and wheeling inside me.
They make my world beautiful.
But only I can see them.
I look in front of me.
In large, black print on the stark white sheet.
They want me to pick one.
One color.
What is your favorite color?
I canâ€™t.
I canâ€™t.
When I have
the color of creeping through the damp green woods in the early morning to catch the sunrise
the color of busy commuters lining up in an airport to get a cup of hot, black coffee
the color of running outside with a red wagon and tiger to see an iridescent rainbow
the color of getting a fresh new book that youâ€™ve always wanted
the color of steamy pancakes and fresh strawberries on a snowy weekend morning
the color of dancing in a flashing dark room with a hundred other people
the color of a mother looking at her baby for the first time
how can I swallow my truth and tell them one little lie of a word?
Just say, yellow.
Or blue.
Or red.
But I canâ€™t.
Because there is more to me than that.
Most people are one color, or two, or three.
I am a million and will never be any fewer.
And so I sit and donâ€™t answer the question.
Because the colors are too pure, too intense, too beautiful
for me to lie and scrawl
yellow.

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47

Mer

in March 7th, 2006 @ 20:31

Moondreams
by Mer
I am the moon
And they are the sun
I bask in their sunrays;
It is the only light, the only life I have
I am but a reflection of them
Palely luminescent with borrowed light
Isolated and
Watching
Dreaming of the time when I can
Be the sun

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48

BlackRaven

in March 7th, 2006 @ 22:10

Oh, man — you guys totally rock with this poetry. There are so many variations, and I’m glad to see more poems than reviews. Speaking of which — actually, I’m just digressing — I’m going to check out the newest entries. See you later.

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49

Axa

in March 7th, 2006 @ 22:23

Was that directed at me, Mer? Because I was quoting a song, not claiming at my own. Unless you weren’t referring to me, in which case I take that all back.

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50

Trillian of Rhodes

in March 7th, 2006 @ 22:41

I like the poem about colors, Mer, i never thought about colors that way.

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51

BlackRaven

in March 7th, 2006 @ 23:08

I think she might have been telling people that SHE wasn’t plagurizing.

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52

BlackRaven

in March 8th, 2006 @ 06:47

“Last Chances”

by BlackRaven

no, this poem isn’t about
Second Chances.
it’s about
Last Ones.

nobody can repeat their past
yet nobody can face their future
oh, life, how do you work?
if we are all stranded in the present forever.

no, i don’t need to meet your friends
cause there’s no such thing as
Friends Forever
since no human can
Live That Long,
and forever’s probably awhile.

nobody can undo their past
yet nobody can find their future
oh, life, how do you work?
if we can’t get off the ground and start flying.

this is life
and you’d better listen because
Destiny Fails
to tell you why
Poetry Prevails
in a short-life small-world
of reality
and final chances.

oh, life, how do you work?
if we are not cut off at a second chance
but at a last one.
__________________

I know it’s weird, but hey, I’m in a hurry.

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53

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 11:33

Here we come, walkin’
Down the street.
We get the funniest looks from
Ev’ry one we meet.
Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we’re too busy singing
To put anybody down.

We go wherever we want to,
do what we like to do
We don’t have time to get restless,
There’s always something new.
Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we’re too busy singing
To put anybody down.

We’re just tryin’ to be friendly,
Come and watch us sing and play,
We’re the young gneration,
And we’ve got something to say.

Any time, Or anywhere,
Just look over your shoulder
Guess who’ll be standing there

Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we’re too busy singing
To put anybody down.

(break)

Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
And people say we monkey around.
But we’re too busy singing
To put anybody down.

We’re just tryin’ to be friendly,
Come and watch us sing and play,
We’re the young gneration,
And we’ve got something to say.

Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees
[repeat and fade]

extra verse:

Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees,
You never know where we’ll be found.
so you’d better get ready,
We may be comin’ to your town.

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54

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 11:35

Oh, I could hide ‘neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings.
The six o’clock alarm would never ring.
But it rings and I rise,
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
My shavin’ razor’s cold and it stings.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

You once thought of me
As a white knight on a steed.
Now you know how happy I can be.
Oh, and our good times start and end
Without dollar one to spend.
But how much, baby, do we really need.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.
Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

[Instrumental interlude]

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.
[Repeat and fade]

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55

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 11:53

My, my the clock in the sky is pounding away
There’s so much to say
A face, a voice, an overdub has no choice
And it cannot rejoice

Wanting to be, to hear and to see
Crying to the sky

But the porpoise is laughing good-bye, good-bye
good-bye, good-bye, good-bye

Clicks, clacks
Riding the backs of giraffes for laughs is alright for a while
The ego sings of castles and kings and things
That go with a life of style

Wanting to feel, to know what is real
Living is a lie

But the porpoise is waiting good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye

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56

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 12:00

Uh huh, lifeâ€™s like this
Uh huh, uh huh
Thatâ€™s the way it is.

Cuz lifeâ€™s like this
Uh huh, uh huh
Thatâ€™s the way it is

Chill out
Whatcha yelling for?
Lay back
Itâ€™s all been done before
And if you could only let it be you would see

I like you the way you are
When weâ€™re driving in your car
And youâ€™re talking to me one-on-one
But youâ€™ve become

Somebody else, round everyone else
Youâ€™re watching your back, like you canâ€™t relax
Youâ€™re trying to be cool, you look like a fool to me
Tell me

Whyâ€™d you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way youâ€™re
Acting like somebody else, gets me frustrated
Lifeâ€™s like this and youâ€™ll,
Fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get
And turn it into
Honesty promised me
Iâ€™m never gonna find you fake it.
No no no.

You come over unannounced
Dressed up like youâ€™re someone else
Where you are & where itâ€™s at you see
Youâ€™re making me, laugh out
When you strike a pose, take off
All your preppy clothes
You know youâ€™re not fooling anyone
When you become

Somebody else, round everyone else
Watching your back, like you canâ€™t relax
Youâ€™re trying to be cool, you look like a fool to me
Tell me

Whyâ€™d you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way youâ€™re acting like youâ€™re somebody else
Gets me frustrated, lifeâ€™s like this you
You fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get
And you turn it into
Honestly you promised me
Iâ€™m never gonna find you fake it
No no no (no no no)
No no

Chill out
Whatcha yelling for?
Lay back itâ€™s all been done before
And if you could only let it be, you would see

Somebody else, round everyone else
Youâ€™re watching your back, like you canâ€™t relax
Youâ€™re trying to be cool, you look like a fool to me
Tell me!

Whyâ€™d you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way youâ€™re acting like youâ€™re somebody else
Gets me frustrated, lifeâ€™s like this you
You fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get
And you turn into
Honestly you promised me
Iâ€™m never gonna find you fake it
No no

Whyâ€™d you have to go and make things so complicated? (yeah, yeah)
I see the way youâ€™re acting like youâ€™re somebody else
Gets me frustrated, lifeâ€™s like this you
You fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get
And you turn into
Honestly you promised me
Iâ€™m never gonna find you fake it
No no no.

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57

embrace_your_poison

in March 8th, 2006 @ 14:57

He made the world a grassy road before our bare, wandering feet,
and crushed the stones into the softest sand between our toes,
but we’re wondering where to sleep,
clever words on pages turn to fragments, circles, points and lines,
and cover them like carpets, with graceful,
meaningless ornamental designs
Come quick, you light that knows no evening
Come, alone to the alone!
I have a thousand half-loves well worth leaving for to take your madness home,
and you dance inside my chest where no on sees you,
but sometimes I see you
rejoice, the cleansing of my lips
Rejoice, salvation of my soul!
But I still have a thousand half-loves
(Oh my God! I want to shoot myself just thinking about it)
And you think I don’t mean what I say?
Well I mean every word I say.
I threw a small stone down at the reflection of my image in the water,
and it altogether disapperared.
I burst, as it shattered through me like a bullet through a bottle,
and I’m expected to believe that any of this is real.
-Seven Sisters, by Mewithoutyou

Call me outside I’ll come running down.
When I satisfied each need invented by my eye
I was a nest by a fox’s hole or dirt underneath your boots soles
when I satisfied each need invented by my eye
it was nothing like I’d imagined.
Like cocaine, their green eyes fixed on the television to pass the time
until their two miles of elegant blinds halfway raised for the watching as you walked by
“Look, come to the window
She carries a candle at mid-day while the sun’s still so high!”
But you knew better than to pay mind to what to people and the devil say call me outside,
I’ll come running down into the vacant, intoxicating night,
call me outside to their haunted streets, their red electric lights,
I’m on the sad side of a nowhere town,
but sister I’m all you got so call me outside,
I’ll come running down – Then, not another word.
-Disaster Tourism, also by Mewithoutyou

Mewithoutyou is an awesome band, there isn’t anything “bad” in their lyrics so I think I can advertise them? They have beautiful poetry as well as beautiful lyrics, and I’m going to see them on May 2nd! WOOT! ^_^;

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58

frankenfaerie

in March 8th, 2006 @ 15:34

i finally got to type this one (which i wrote)

Like the dawn in the night and a bird without wings
My heart a very sad song sings
It is a ballad of sad rhymes
Now forgotten through the times
And I do hope that someday near
I can live without this fear
The fear that in time to pass
Secrets will be known at last
The way to run, the way to hide
Is an easy excuse for whatâ€™s truly inside
Though it may be hard and it may mean pain
I tell you this sad story again:
The dreamlands gone and the nightmares reign
The painful feel of freezing rain
The cold of snow and a callous heart
Can make those together come apart
For the Light is gone and the Darkness rules
Banished fears it uses as tools
Tools to break and tools to end
The happiness of a true best friend
The calmness of a night at sea
The Evil now reigning, or soon to be
The end of all hopes and of dreams too
But this is decided by only you
In these dark, forsaken lands
The only hope is Angelsâ€™ hands
Made of Light and meant to guard
Though perils are many and trials are hard
It guides you to new worlds and places afar
The Evil and Darkness forever to mar
Use the Night to bend those to your will
Is what murderers do for an easy kill
So to protect the innocent and banish the guilt
For they are like a fragile flower that will easily wilt
Now, then the Light, the day will come
So now mortal fears are only some:
And again this sad song I will sing
The torturous moments forever to ring
Of these Evil events so carefully planned
For the Dark reign unmanned
Though the Day is long, so is the Night
And it will forever conquer the Light.

sorry if it’s a bit depressing….

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59

frankenfaerie

in March 8th, 2006 @ 15:35

i did this one too….it’s not that great

We walked through the emerald forests
While they still were
And lay in meadows of gold
Now, alone, I walk through bloodstained fields
Never resting on concrete, asphalt, cement
Not stopping in houses â€“ dead trees â€“ or buildings
Looking, searching endlessly
O, where have you gone?
O, where will I go?

and doesn’t really make much sense

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60

dark lord of darkness

in March 8th, 2006 @ 15:37

i think i missed something. how do u guys make the typewriter font?

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61

Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J)

in March 8th, 2006 @ 16:06

Plagiarize! Let no one else’s work evade your eyes! Remember why the good Lord made your eyes! So don’t shade your eyes, but PLAGIARIZE, PLAGIARIZE, PLAGIARIIIIIIIIZE…only be sure always to call it please, research. I will never forget the day I am given feerst original paper to write. It is on the analytical algaebracion of local Euclidean motorization meterization of banyinmaniform…bourgemoi. Thees I know from nohthing. Then I think of great Lobachevsky, and I get idea. Haha! I have a friend in Minsk, who has a friend in Pinsk, with friend in Omsk, with friend in Tomsk, with friend in Arkleminsk, with friend in Alexvandross, whose friend right now is solving somehow the problem in Dnepapapatros. And when his work is done, haha! begins the fun. -Tom Lehrer, Lobachevsky

Oh dear. I did that from memory.

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62

embrace_your_poison aka Lyra

in March 8th, 2006 @ 16:29

One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can’ts seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have
to go out
of their way to say that it is like something else.
What foes it mean when we are told
That the Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?
In the first place, George Gordon Byron had had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn’t just one Assyrian, it was a lot
of Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and thus
hinder longevity,
We’ll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were gleaming
in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a wolf
on
the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy there
are
a great many things,
But i don’t imagine that among then there is a wolf with purple
and gold
cohorts or purple and gold anythings.
No, no, Lord Byron, before I’ll believe that this Assyrian was actually
like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red
mouth and
big white teeth and did he say Woof woof?
Frankly I think it very unlikely, and all you were entitled to say,
at the
very most,
Was that the Assyrian cohorts came down like a lot of Assyrian cohorts
about to destroy the Hebrew host.
But that wasn’t fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he had
to
invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate
them,
With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers
to
people they say Oh yes, they’re the ones that a lot
of wolves dressed
up in gold and purple ate them.
That’s the kind of thing that’s being done all the time by poets,
from Homer
to Tennyson;
They’re always comparing ladies to lilies and veal to venison,
And they always say things like that the snow is a white blanket
after a
winter storm.
Oh it is, is it, all right then, you sleep under a six-inch blanket
of snow and
I’ll sleep under a half-inch blanket of unpoetical
blanket material and
we’ll see which one keeps warm,
And after that maybe you’ll begin to comprehend dimly,
What I mean by too much metaphor and simile.

Very Like A Whale, by Ogden Nash.
If this doesn’t make you laugh…

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63

Violetfire

in March 8th, 2006 @ 16:50

This is a song from Wicked, but it makes an awesome poem.

Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I’m not that girl

Don’t dream too far
Don’t lose sight of who you are
Don’t remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I’m not that girl.

Ev’ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in.

Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who’s winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl
That’s the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I’m not that girl.

Don’t wish, don’t start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl
There’s a girl I know
He loves her so
I’m not that girl.

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64

frankenfaerie

in March 8th, 2006 @ 17:26

this is part of wheately’s (sp?) poem, To His Excellency, George Washington

The goddess comes, she moves divinely fair.
Olive and laurel binds her golden hair:
Wherever shines this native of the skies.
Unnumber’d charms and recent graves rise.
Muse! bow propitious while my pen relates
How pour her armies through a thousand gates,
As when Eolus heaven’s fair face deforms.
Enrapp’d in tempest and a night of storms;
Asonish’d ocean feels the wild uproar,
The refluent surges beat the sounding shore:
Or thick as leaves in Autumn’s golden reign.
Such, and so many, moves the warrior’s train.
In bright array they seek the work of war,

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65

Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J)

in March 8th, 2006 @ 17:39

No one likes us
I don’t know why
We may not be perfect
But heaven knows we try

But all around, even our old friends put us down
Let’s drop the big one, and see what happens
We give them money, but are they grateful?
No, they’re spiteful, and they’re hateful

They don’t respect us, so let’s surprise them
Let’s drop the big one and pulverize them
Asia’s crowded and Europe’s too old
Africa’s far too hot, and Canada’s too cold
South America stole our name
Let’s drop the big one, they’ll be no one left to blame us
We’ll save Australia
Don’t want to hurt no kangaroos now
We’ll build an all-American amusement park there
They got surfing too!

Boom goes London, boom! Paris
More room for you, more room for me
And every city, the whole world round
Will just be another American town

Oh how peaceful it’ll be
We’ll set everybody free
You wear a Japanese kimono baby
It’ll be Italian shoes for me!

They all hate us anyhow
So let’s drop the big one now
Let’s drop the big one now-Political Science, Randy Newman

I love Randy Newman. He’s one of my favorite songwriters, Lehrer and Paul Simon holding the other positions. “Lonely At The Top” is a good song too.

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66

emogrl

in March 8th, 2006 @ 18:06

#52: for some reason that made me think of the phrase ” live every day as if it were your last”

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67

penguini

in March 8th, 2006 @ 18:44

Ha Ha and general triumpf

I have a friend who calls himself ‘Lucifer’

This was written by him for a school project *gasp*

here goes

(with all typos)

Hit, Crack Smack.
To people in a utopia,
They might not know what pain means
To fight a fight or to wage a war.
Pain or pleasure,
Blended together.
Slamming a finger in a door,
Or stubbing a toe. This might be a small bit of pain,
To have a tasty dinner,
To win a ball game.
This is only a couple small pleasures.
To die, to live, to kill,
Blended together into one big cycleof death and life.
To live to lie,
To cry to die.

to give one person the feeling of pain and love,
Using them as your sheild against emotions.
Let them make your major decisions.
Carrying everybody’s emotions,
Anger, Sadness
Stress, and gladness.
Blended together into a whirlpool of emotions,
All combined into one,
No feelings for one another,
Only doning as they’re told.
Remembering nothing but the day before,
Preparing for only tomorrow.
One-foot infront of the other, day after day.
To live to lie,
To cry to die.

Difference is always in the way,
They must have all black.
Red?
Only a shade of gray.
Sameness is wat they are and that’s how they will die.

To be killed because your old, sick, or mean.
To be released because you don’t like your job.
They have learnt it this way and this is the way it will always be.

—————————————————————————-

Lucifer is good. I like that poem.

Can you guess which book it is based on????

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68

kricket

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:09

yeah!!! good poems!!!!!

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69

embrace_your_poison aka Lyra

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:20

I took a walk down 4th avenue when I saw it
A red line in the concrete
Leading somewhere out of sight
Something compelled me to stop
So I jumped over the fence
Started following from what appeared to be
The trail of a leaking tin can
Leading into the alley away from the light

Now this is what needs to be done
Blacklight shining in the dark
Brings out brightness more than in the sun
Do I dare to stay
Cause somehow I want to

Trade love for the city lights
You chose me to stay
Trade light for the city love
You chose me to stay

So now what if I continue this walk
The red line is taking me down trashcans lonely street
Yes the streets have neames but the people don’t
Or are they forgotten
And I’m starting to smell something beautiful
Though these streets are rotten

Trade love for the city lights
You chose me to stay
Trade light for the city love

This is a song called City Lights by a band called Blindside.
I think anyone who’s done work in a big city can relate to it. Personally, I try to work as often as I can with an organisation called the Relief Bus, which serves as a moblie soup kitchen in a Certain Very Large Northeastern City. It is amazing, I always go in nervous but end up getting more out of it then I put into it…so this is not only an awesome poem but my chance to encourage anyone who can to do some relief work, wherever you live. Okay, sappy tirade over. If you read this, kudos to you for sheer perseverance. ^_^

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70

BlackRaven

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:26

Here’s the updated version of “Memories of Sorrowless Evenings”…now called “Memories of when it didn’t rain sorrow…
_______________

when the last candle
in the room
flickers out
dimly lit
like a spiderweb strand
floating through
a misty breeze
of incense
we huddle in the dark
and it overcomes
our paper-thin souls
a pulse shining
through the window
past the moonlight
into our eyes
and our hearts
churning its way around
cooing gently
come home
return
return
and then we
REMEMBER
we remember
the trees swaying
all the leaves rushing
reeds by the pond
grass beneath our feet
and we do
WE DO
wish theyâ€™d return
lulling us softly
to sleep
those nights long ago
those nights
back when
we knew
how to smile
______________

Okay, a bit sadder than intended, but probably one of my best poems.

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71

BlackRaven

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:28

__________________”Dreams” by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

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72

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:56

I cannot take this anymore
Iâ€™m saying everything Iâ€™ve said before
All these words they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Less I hear the less youâ€™ll say
Youâ€™ll find that out anyway

Just like before…

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And Iâ€™m about to break
I need a little room to breathe
â€™cause Iâ€™m one step closer to the edge
And Iâ€™m about to break

I find the answers arenâ€™t so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again

Just like before…

Every thing you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And Iâ€™m about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
â€™cause Iâ€™m one step closer to the edge,
And Iâ€™m about to break!
Every thing you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And Iâ€™m about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
â€™cause Iâ€™m one step closer to the edge,
And Iâ€™m about to break!

Shut up when Iâ€™m talking to you!
Shut up! shut up! shut up!
Shut up when Iâ€™m talking to you!
Shut up! shut up! shut up! shut up!
Iâ€™m about to break

Every thing you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And Iâ€™m about to break!
I need a little room to breathe
â€™cause Iâ€™m one step closer to the edge,
And Iâ€™m about to break!
(x2)

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73

Aleu_roleplayer

in March 8th, 2006 @ 19:58

Hush, my little one; you must be exhausted.

Sleep, my little Kovu
Let your dreams take wing
One day when you’re big and strong
You will be a king

I’ve been exiled, persucuted
Left alone with no defense
When I think of what that brute did
I get a little tense

But I dream a dream so pretty
That I don’t feel so depressed
‘Cause it soothes my inner kitty
And it helps me get some rest

The sound of Simba’s dying gasp
His daughter squealing in my grasp
His lionesses’ mournful cry
That’s my lullaby

Now the past I’ve tried forgetting
And my foes I could forgive
Trouble is I knows it’s petty
But I hate to let them live

So you found yourself somebody who’d chase Simba up a tree

Oh, the battle may be bloody, but that kind of works for me

The melody of angry growls
A counterpoint of painful howls
A symphony of death, oh my!
That’s my lullaby

Scar is gone… but Zira’s still around
To love this little lad
Till he learns to be a killer
With a lust for being bad!

Sleep, ya little termite!
Uh– I mean, precious little thing!
One day when you’re big and strong
You will be a king!

The pounding of the drums of war
The thrill of Kovu’s mighty roar

The joy of vengeance
Testify!
I can hear the cheering
Kovu! What a guy!

Payback time is nearing
And then our flag will fly
Against a blood-red sky
That’s my lullaby!

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74

Anata who does not feel like adding anything to her name

in March 8th, 2006 @ 20:30

No is no, no is always no….
I ♥ They Might be Giants too.

Man, you oughta finish what you’ve started
You can’t leave me here alive
Well I know it started as a fist fight
But you’ve got me covered up in hives

I don’t need an invitation
The best peach is at the top of that tree
But when all this indecision reigns
So aimlessness that helps me see straight

You got me walkin’ up a tightrope
With vaseline from my head to my feet
You got me lookin’ into blindfolds
But I know you’ve got your hands all over me
So when all these imitations fail
Just don’t look back ’cause I won’t be there

Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just what it was all about
Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just why you push me around

Well I’m doing time inside a grapevine
Little things amuse little minds
Nothin’s free except a little bit of bad advice
On how to live on only water, bread and rice

I don’t need an invitation
The best peach is at the top of that tree
So when all this nighttime vision fails
I’ll lose these chains and slip out of this jail

Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just what it was all about
Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just why you push me around

Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just what it was all about
Laughing out loud
When I didn’t ever know just why you push me around
lalaaalalaaa…

Good song. Its by a band called the wallflowers, from their album Bring Down the Horse.

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75

emogrl

in March 8th, 2006 @ 21:18

#72: linkin park are awesome! b/c i have this weird thing for relly screwed up love songs, my favourite LP song is “with you”

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76

Nancy Kangas

in March 8th, 2006 @ 22:52

Anybody want to try “lunes”? — sort of a modern take on the haiku. Three lines/phrases, but they don’t have a syllable count.

They can be linked? So that one picks up a feeling/theme/whatever where the last one left off.

Let’s see if I can start something that works:

At the grocery store
March means stuffed bunnies hung in rows on racks
By April I will give in

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77

kokopelli #13, (a.k.a. TerroR)

in March 9th, 2006 @ 09:19

Ode To A Goldfish:

Wet friend.

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78

kokopelli #13, (a.k.a. TerroR)

in March 9th, 2006 @ 09:28

I have here a song by Nickel Creek called When in Rome:

where can a sick man go
when he can’t choke down the medicine the old doc knows
a specialist came to town but he stays at home
saying no one knows so i dont honey when in Rome

where can a teacher go
wherever she thinks people need the things she knows
say those books you gave us look good on the shelves at home
and they’ll burn warm in the fireplace teacher when in Rome

grab a blanket sister we’ll make smoke signals
bring in some new blood it feels like we’re alone
grab a blanket brother so we don’t catch cold from one another
i wonder if we’re stuck in Rome

where can a dead man go
a question with an answer only dead men know
but i’m gonna bet they never really feel at home
if they spent their lifetime learning how to live in Rome

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79

kokopelli #13, (a.k.a. TerroR)

in March 9th, 2006 @ 09:31

The song I just wrote was from Nickel Creek’s CD Why Should the Fire Die.

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80

flying circus

in March 9th, 2006 @ 15:19

Just for a Second

She smiled
In her quiet white shoes
And wiped my arm
WIth a square of cotton.
“This will only hurt
For a second.”
I wince as the cold needle
Pierces my skin
And the plunger is pushed
Down
It hurts
For more than just a second.
Then she smiles again
And wipes again
And gives me a little
Round bandaid
And I’m back in a world
Where it hurts
For more than a second.

I wrote this poem in… like… 5 minutes… but everyone needs feedback, so, yea. Sorry if the whole not rhyming thing bothers you.

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81

Violetfire

in March 9th, 2006 @ 16:27

like it.
Here’s one

Rain
has come
the wet smell of it
haunts my mind
the clouds hide the sun
but the sun shines through
worms lay helpless
on the pavement
and an errent shoe
brings death
but i can save the worms
like i used to
I can put them back in the grass
or the garden
and they’ll live
and i hope
that someday
when i am the worm
someone will put me
back in the grass
and i’ll live

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82

Violetfire

in March 9th, 2006 @ 16:32

Reflections
If i look in a pond,
I see myself
But only the surface.
if I look in a mirror,
I see myself
But only my face.
If I look in a window,
I see myself
But i can see through me
To the curtains on the inside.
Is there any mirror
that shows who I truly am?
Not face and body,
But soul?

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83

frankenfaerie

in March 9th, 2006 @ 16:36

71- i love langston hughes

72- LINKIN PARK! they have some of the greatest lyrics….such as:

What do I do to ignore them behind me?
Do I follow my instincts blindly?
Do I hide my pride from these bad dreams?
And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?
Do I sit here and try to stand it?
Or do I try to catch them red-handed?
Do I trust some and get fooled by phoniness,
Or do I trust nobody and live in loneliness?
Because I can’t hold on when I’m stretched so thin
I make the right moves but I’m lost within
I put on my daily facade but then
I just end up getting hurt again
By myself [myself]

[x2]
I ask why, but in my mind
I find I canâ€™t rely on myself

[Chorus:]
I canâ€™t hold on
To what I want when Iâ€™m stretched so thin
Itâ€™s all too much to take in
I canâ€™t hold on
To anything watching everything spin
With thoughts of failure sinking in

If I
Turn my back Iâ€™m defenseless
And to go blindly seems senseless
If I hide my pride and let it all go on then theyâ€™ll
Take from me â€˜till everything is gone
If I let them go Iâ€™ll be outdone
But if I try to catch them Iâ€™ll be outrun
If Iâ€™m killed by the questions like a cancer
Then Iâ€™ll be buried in the silence of the answer
by myself [myself]

[x2]
I ask why, but in my mind
I find I canâ€™t rely on myself

[Chorus]

How do you think Iâ€™ve lost so much
I’m so afraid that I’m out of touch
How do you expect… I will know what to do
When all I know Is what you tell me to

[x2]
Donâ€™t you know
I canâ€™t tell you how to make it go
No matter what I do, how hard I try
I canâ€™t seem to convince myself why
Iâ€™m stuck on the outside

[Chorus x2]

that’s “by myself” on Hybrid Theory

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84

echomikeromeo

in March 9th, 2006 @ 17:25

How about a little Gilbert and Sullivan?

(from memory):
I am the very model of a modern major-general
I’ve information vegetable, animal and mineral
I know the kings of England from the [something] historical
From Marathon to Waterloo in order categorical…

—-
And Tom Lehrer’s parody, the Elements Song:

There’s antimony, arsenic, aluminium selenium
And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium
And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium
And iron, americium, ruthenium, vanadium…

It goes on to name all the elements on the periodic table that had been discovered when Lehrer wrote the words in the 1960s.

I also have a penchant for the first line of that hymn that I can’t remember the name of that William Blake wrote that goes, “And when these feet in ancient times…” because songs about feet are funny.

and lest anyone think I’m really ridiculous, I also love Pink Floyd’s lyrics. “All in all you’re just a brick in the wall!”

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85

Duncan_Quagmire

in March 9th, 2006 @ 17:53

(#84):

* “I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical”

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86

emogrl

in March 9th, 2006 @ 18:04

#83: ooh, the one w/ all the screaming. yeah, i hav hybrid theory. songs w/ wailing/screaming are cool, well, mainly b/c if you want to get on someones nerves all you have to do is turn it up as loud as possible + party like its 1999…

yay! i copied this one onto my wall the other day:

The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You
(by MCR)

gaze into her killing jar id sometimes stare for hours. she even poked the holes so i could breathe. she bought the last line. im just the worst kind. of guy to argue. with what you might find. and for the last night i lie- could i lie with you?

*give up. get down. its just the hardest part of living. she wants. it all. to come down this time…*

lost in the perscription shes got something else in mind. check into the hotel bella muerte. it gives the weak flight it gives the blind sight until the cops come or by the last light. and for the last night i lie, could i lie next to you?

*x2*

pull the plug. but id like to learn your name. and holding on. well i hope you do the same. aww sugar, slip into this tragedy- youve spun this chamber dry…

*x2*

pull the plug. but id like to learn your name. and holding on. well i hope you do the same. aww, sugar

i luv the underlying meaning in this one… i tear apart songs a lot. we have to tear apart a lot of stuff in AP lang (well the real term for it is analyzing ) + it can actually be fun. hey, i was bored in spanish today, so i started translating one of may favourite songs into espanol. ive already got the chorus down…

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87

frankenfaerie

in March 9th, 2006 @ 18:50

this is the first part of breaking benjamin’s “breakdown”:

Skin is cold and white
Such a lovely lonely night
Heaven is on the way
You can feel the hate
but I guess you never will

and then, a little later in the song:

I’ll be there for you
‘Til my heart is black and blue

i love it!

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88

frankenfaerie

in March 9th, 2006 @ 18:52

Problems
by The Sex Pistols

Too many problems
Oh why am I here
I don’t need to be me
‘Cos you’re all too clear
Well I can see
There’s something wrong with you
But what do you excepth me to do?
At least I gotta know what I wanna be
Don’t come to me if you need pitty
Are you lonely you got no one
You get your body in suspension
That’s no problem problem
Problem the problem is you

Eat your heart out on a plastic tray
You don’t do what you want
Then you’ll fade away
You won’t find me working
Nine to five
It’s too much fun a being alive
I’m using my feet for my human machine
You wan’t find me living for the screen
Are you lonely all your needs catered
You got your brains dehydrated

Problem problem
Problem the problems is you
What you gonna do

Problem problem
Problem the problems is you
What you gonna do with your problem

In a death trip I ain’t automatic
You won’t find me just staying static
Don’t give me any orders
For people like me
There is no order

Bet you thought you had it all worked out
Bet you thought you knew what I was about
Bet you thought you’d
Solved all your problems
But you are the problem

Problem problem
Problem the problem is you
What you gonna do with your problem
I’ll leave it to you
Problem their problem is you
You got a problem
Oh what you gonna do

They know a doctor
Gonna take you away
They take you away
And throw away the key
They don’t want you
And they don’t want me
You got a problem
The problem is you
Problem the problem is you
What you gonna do
Problem problem problem

Problem problem problem
Problem problem problem
Problem problem problem

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89

frankenfaerie

in March 9th, 2006 @ 18:54

Down In A Hole
by Alice in Chains

Bury me softly in this womb
I give this part of me for you
Sand rains down and here I sit
Holding rare flowers
In a tomb…in bloom

Down in a hole and I donâ€™t know if I can be saved
See my heart I decorate it like a grave
You donâ€™t understand who they
Thought I was supposed to be
Look at me now a man
Who wonâ€™t let himself be

Down in a hole, feelinâ€™ so small
Down in a hole, losinâ€™ my soul
Iâ€™d like to fly,
But my wings have been so denied

Down in a hole and theyâ€™ve put all
The stones in their place
Iâ€™ve eaten the sun so my tongue
Has been burned of the taste
I have been guilty
Of kicking myself in the teeth
I will speak no more
Of my feelings beneath

Down in a hole, feelinâ€™ so small
Down in a hole, losinâ€™ my soul
Iâ€™d like to fly but my
Wings have been so denied

Bury me softly in this womb
Oh I want to be inside of you
I give this part of me for you
Oh I want to be inside of you
Sand rains down and here I sit
Holding rare flowers (oh I want to be inside of you)
In a tomb…in bloom
Oh I want to be inside…

Down in a hole, feelinâ€™ so small
Down in a hole, losinâ€™ my soul
Down in a hole, feelinâ€™ so small
Down in a hole, outta control
Iâ€™d like to fly but my
Wings have been so denied

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90

frankenfaerie

in March 9th, 2006 @ 18:55

check out the trans-siberian orchestra. the instrumental stuff is amazing. i’ve been to a few of their concerts…..

yeah, i’m a classical dork!

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91

Phoenix

in March 10th, 2006 @ 15:41

I can’t believe I never posted a Hebrew song before! Here goes, a little twiddle that is one of my favorites:

Bashana haba’ah neysheive al ha’mirpeset
(In the year to come we will sit on the porch)
Ve’nispor tziporim nodedot
(And count the migrating birds)
Yeladim ba’chovsha nesachacu topheset
(Little children on vacation will play ball)
Bein ha’bayit u’bain ha’sadot
(between the house and the feilds)
Bo tiraeh, bo tiraeh, camah tov tehiyeh
(come and see, come and see, how good it will be)
Bashana, bashana, haba’ah.
(In the year, in the the new year.)

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92

Jadestone

in March 10th, 2006 @ 16:02

JADESTONE IS GOING TO A PLAY!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAYY FOR JADESTONE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HYPERNESS AGAIN!!!

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93

Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J); WDNT

in March 10th, 2006 @ 16:13

I love the Modern Major General! I thought it was “From Babylon to Waterloo in order categorical”, but my version of the opera has Linda Ronstadt as Mabel, so there you go. And “Another Brick in the Wall”! And the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. And the Sex Pistols, too. I think you guys are my soulmates!

“It’s A Long Long Way” by UB40
“Oh my god!”
“Oh my god!”
Jump down funny in a TV lounge
Read the Sunday paper credit card inna your hand
Sing the song of freedom just to ease your troubled mind
Save your guilty pennies for the ones you leave behind
The burden that you carry from the cradle to the grave
Like the facts of hearbreak that you wear upon your sleeve
You make your contribution and you shed a little tear
Stunt your celebration just to show ’em that you care

Chorus: It’s a long long way from here
Don’t you worry yourself my dear
It’s a long long way from here
“Oh my god!”

Repeat first verse
Chorus

Skin your sundry bones with your papa saying lies
You talk of understanding-it’s a wafer-thin disguise
You glorify my image but deny me flesh and blood
You radiate with goodness but you poison his food
Those rivers of blood will flow again
Someone changed the lyric but the song remains the same
You can talk of what you know until the oceans go away
But is there a price that someone has to pay

Chorus

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Jadestone

in March 10th, 2006 @ 16:25

This is by Mike Keith, as seen in the october 2004 issue of muse.

Poe, E.
Near A Raven

Midnights so dreary, tired and weary,
Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap – the weirdest tap!
An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber’s antedoor.
“This”, I whispered quietly, “I ignore”.

Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
Inflamed by lightning’s outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
That inimitable lesson in elegance – Lenore –
Is delighting, exciting…nevermore.

Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
And fear overcame my being – the fear of “forevermore”.
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
As I said, “Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
A man is visiting, of age threescore.”

Taking little time, briskly addressing something: “Sir,” (robustly)
“Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
Why, devil incarnate!–” Here completely unveiled I my antedoor–
Just darkness, I ascertained – nothing more.

While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
I perceived the weirdest dream…of everlasting “nevermores”.
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled – such relief! – as my intellect said,
(Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered “Lenore”.
This only, as evermore.

Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
While intrusive tap did then come thrice – O, so stronger than sounded afore.
“Surely” (said silently) “it was the banging, clanging window lattice.”
Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
Perceiving: a “nevermore”.

Completely disturbed, I said, “Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary ‘nevermores’?”
The bird intruded thence – O, irritation ever since! –
Then sat on Pallas’ pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
And stated “nevermores”.

Bemused by raven’s dissonance, my soul exclaimed, “I seek intelligence;
Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn ‘nevermores’!”
“Nevermores”, winged corvus proclaimed – thusly was a raven named?
Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
I heard an oppressive “nevermore”.

My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
“Surely,” said the raven’s watcher, “separate discourse is wiser.
Therefore, liberation I’ll obtain, retreating heretofore –
Eliminating all the ‘nevermores’ “.

Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
Always saying “never” (by a red chamber’s door).
A poor, tender heartache maven – a sorrowful bird – a raven!
O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he’d fly heretofore.
Still sitting, he recited “nevermores”.

The raven’s dirge induced alarm – “nevermore” quite wearisome.
I meditated: “Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?”
O, a sadness was manifest – a sorrowful cry of unrest;
“O,” I thought sincerely, “it’s a melancholy great – furthermore,
Removing doubt, this explains ‘nevermores’ “.

Seizing just that moment to sit – closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there – it studied my soul, unawares.
Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
Silently, I pondered the “nevermores”.

“Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage – I am disturbed!”
Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
“That delectable Lenore – whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
She’s returning – that maiden – aye, nevermore.”

Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
“Wretch,” (addressing blackbird only) “fly swiftly – emancipate me!”
“Respite, respite, detestable raven – and discharge me, I implore!”
A ghostly answer of: “nevermore”.

” ‘Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?”
“Answer, tempter-sent creature!”, I inquired, like before.
“Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with ‘nevermores’ quite indoctrinated,
Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
I am subdued!”, I then swore.

In answer, the raven turned – relentless distress it spurned.
“Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!” – pleaded I for.
“Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
Nevermore Lenore respondeth?”, adamantly I encored.
The appeal was ignored.

“O, satanic inferno’s denizen — go!”, I said boldly, standing then.
“Take henceforth loathsome “nevermores” – O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
Promptly leave and retreat!”, I resolutely swore.
Blackbird’s riposte: “nevermore”.

So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven’s conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
Thus henceforth, I’ll rise (from a darkness, a grave) — nevermore!

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Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J); WDNT

in March 10th, 2006 @ 16:51

I have a little raven
He is my very pal…

Maybe I’ll write a parody later. At the moment I am way too excited about the new Asterix movie, Asterix and the Vikings, featuring some of the froodiest animation ever and people like that lady from Quebec who does all the slow songs (not her real name) and lots of other people who get to meet Uderzo (lucky duckies!) and, of course, Asterix and Obelix. Now, if I can get it in English…not that I don’t speak French, but I never understand the puns.

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Darth Yoda

in March 10th, 2006 @ 17:21

whoa
post 43 contains a last name, and i think its a musebloger’s

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Darth Yoda

in March 10th, 2006 @ 17:22

please dont post that if im wrong
(you probably wont if im right either, i dont know)

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Rosanne Spector (Administrator)

in March 10th, 2006 @ 17:53

Yikes! Thanks for mentioning that, Darth Y. I’ve deleted the name. Maybe it was a last name, maybe it wasn’t. Either way. it’s gone!

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emogrl

in March 10th, 2006 @ 20:22

MY 3 FRIENDS + I ARE TENRECS NOW!!! READ MORE ABOUT IT ON THE RANDOM THREAD!

alright that was fun. heres a song whose title is one of my special thingies to quote

The Shadow Proves the Sunshine
(by Switchfoot)

sunshine, wont you be my mother?
sunshine, come and help me sing.
my heart is darker than these oceans.
my heart is frozen underneath.

*crooked soul trying to stay up straight.
dry eyes in the pouring rain
the shadow proves the sunshine
two scared little runaways
hold fast till the break of daylight
when the shadow proves the sunshine*

oh lord why did you forsake me?
oh lord, dont be far away, away
storm clouds gathering beside me
please lord dont look the other way
im a crooked soul trying to stay up straight…

**

…shine on me…
…let my shadows prove the sunshine.

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Violetfire

in March 10th, 2006 @ 22:09

That reminds me of the song Boulegard of Broken Dreams by I-can’t-remember-who.

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emogrl

in March 10th, 2006 @ 22:28

#100: hey, 100th poster. w00t for you. yeah, B of BD is by green day- yay! *remembers that GD are one of her like 149 favourite bands* my favourite song by them is Wake Me Up When September Ends…hmm, maybe i can remember some of the words. its like a poem.

Wake Me Up When September Ends
(by Green Day)

summer has come and passed
the innocence can never last
wake me up when september ends

here comes the rain again,
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
recalling where we are [?]

as my memory rests
but never forgets what… [sry, bad memory]
wake me up when september ends

… then they repeat that a couple million times, + it rox

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Otzi

in March 11th, 2006 @ 00:08

WARNING: DEPRESSING SONG
do not go see “Walk the line” if you do not want to become a die-hard johnny cash fan

“I hung my head” by JC

Early one morning
With time to kill
I borrowed Jebb’s rifle
And sat on a hill
I saw a lone rider
Crossing the plain
I drew a bead on him
To practice my aim

My brother’s rifle
Went off in my hand
A shot rang out
Across the land
The horse, he kept running
The rider was dead
I hung my head
I hung my head

I set off running
To wake from the dream
My brother’s rifle
Went into the sheen
I kept on running
Into the south lands
That’s where they found me
My head and my hands

The sheriff he asked me
Why had I run
And then it came to me
Just what I had done
And all for no reason
Just one piece of lead
I hung my head
I hung my head

Here in the court house
The whole town was there
I see the judge
High up in the chair
Explain to the court room
What went through you mind
And we’ll ask the jury
What verdict they find

I felt the power
Of death over life
I orphaned his children
I widowed his wife
I begged their forgiveness
I wish I was dead
I hung my head
I hung my head

I hung my head
I hung my head

Early one morning
With time to kill
I see the gallows
Up on a hill
And out in the distance
A trick of the brain
I see a lone rider
Crossing the plain

And he’d come to fetch me
To see what they’d done
And we’d ride together
To kingdom come
I prayed for god’s mercy
For soon I’d be dead
I hung my head
I hung my head

I hung my head
I hung my head

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Trillian of Rhodes

in March 11th, 2006 @ 00:17

# 80: I like yours! Who needs to rhyme? It is clever, if that can be used to describe something serious. I like the little descriptions, like the “quiet white shoes” and those bits.

Walk

A gate shuts, a drawn out squeak
The mesquite branches brush the dirt
Feet follow a path, taken countless times before.
With every step the worlds melts into another story,
The acting and the masking is cleaned away
And all that remains is thoughts.

An abrubt stop, and the feet turn around,
The sun sinking into the horizon and
Color draining from the sky,
The world grows nearer again
And with it, the person
That everyone
Calls
Me.

I don’t normally write poetry, but reviews would be great!

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Ebeth The Lurker

in March 11th, 2006 @ 07:26

102-too late. i’m already a die-hard johnny cash fan.

except i haven’t seen the movie yet.

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bluemorpho'sghost

in March 11th, 2006 @ 10:04

i was going to post this depressing poem i once wrote, but i FORGOT it how embah-rah-sing!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Violetfire

in March 11th, 2006 @ 10:53

Okay, good for you. Hi everybody!

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emogrl

in March 11th, 2006 @ 11:08

hola!

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emogrl

in March 11th, 2006 @ 11:13

#103: oh me likes! like going for a walk to clear your mind maybe?

sweet! some orchestera is playing mars, bringer of war on the radio right now + its kewl

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Kat

in March 11th, 2006 @ 11:27

Blackalicious- Chemical Calisthenics:

Neutron, proton, mass defect, lyrical oxidation, you’re irrelevant
Mass spectrograph, your electron volt, atomic energy erupting
As I get all open on betatron, gamma rays thermal cracking
Cyclotron and any and every mic
You’re on trans iridium, if you’re always uranium
Molecules, spontaneous combustion, pow

Law of definite proportion, gaining weight
On every element around

Lead, gold, tin, iron, platinum, zinc, when I rap you think
Iodine nitrate activate
Like uranium, the only difference is I transmit sound
Balance was unbalanced then you add a little talent and

Careful, careful with those ingredients
They could explode and blow up if you drop them
And they hit the ground

Let it flow, yo, just let it go, get back

CaOH2 wine water solution of calcium hydroxide
Slobbered in, CaO lime will make bleach powder
Galvanic metal beats stomp out louder
Dried ice, CO2 ((read: CO squared)) refrigerant
NO2 makes you laugh, it’s laughing gas used by the dentists
I nearly added acid glue, I’m like oil of a toil, the king of
chemicals
Energy heat gas waived all your mass
Chemical change, ice point, melt all your raps
Atomic weight, hold shocks, when you call
Refillable gas keep going way beyond
Biatch I’m only ill with buzzin, feel the ambiance
A diabetic process oughta calm your ass
After I warm your ass, I’ll give sodium silicate NO2S1O3,
a water glass
Borax flexure full of brimstone sulfur
Boraxic acid, hip-hop preserver
CO2 could never put away the fire
Style aroma is scientific; the lyrical fuse would be connected
To teach you chemical calisthenics

The theory is that all matter is composed of at least three
fundamental particles:
Protons, electrons, neutrons
Proton’s charge is positive
By now you’ve guessed electrons are probably negatively charged
Neutrons don’t follow either, neutral, in the middle, only no
apologies
Centered, unmoved by yin and yang ideology
Neutron, bomb songs, electron fury
Cosmic musical radio-activity
Different points in joints within infinity
Oxygen and hydrogen alive within all types of energy
Within all types of energy (x4)
Inside a world, inside a world
Inside a universe, inside of me existing although I can’t see it

Hydrocarbon, nitrogen cycle ionization
Heavier than electric motor metals that weigh over a ton
This has been a chemist Blackalicious creation
Clean out your desk, put your papers away cause class is almost done

This is chemistry plus calisthenics
I’m calcium plus potassium, magnesium, newspaper of sodium sulfate
Your solvent, chloroform, remedy from the norm
glycerin, purest form Titanium
there is no way out, when this newfy is out
of all arms vibration, forming in a nigga
some bleachin’ to teach ya religious is equal to pieces of
meteor
Eager to be here or is it, can see here I know all of all
I’ma pickin’ up pretty little Cindy
I’m more, I’m thinkin of more,
I’m cookin a potion!
Yeah!

It gets a little messy and hard to understand there at the end….

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emogrl

in March 11th, 2006 @ 11:30

time for another original SOC that no one will understand!

feel the sun

you dont have to be

better you just have to be bigger it doesnt need to sound great it only needs to be louder you dont need to be true just cover it up good. weve been building higher + higher w/o putting more inside + were all in a hat shop hiding under the glittering brims…i want to feel the sun wipe off the paint + feel the sun the things you buy every day to replace all you throw away, take care of what you have and feel the sun…Youve won everything all your life but we can see through you if we want to but you know that we dont-what will you do if someone does? you just lie down every night unable to sleep sweating in your costume that everyone loves-do they know whos inside?…i want to feel the sun. wipe off the paint + feel the sun. the things you buy every day to replace all you throw away, take care of what you have + feel the sun…they go, he goes; he goes, you go; you go, i go; we go-she stays-whats wrong w/ her? she watches us fall-we wouldnt listen, we couldnt step out of line, and now its so dark…i want to feel the sun. wipe off the paint and feel the sun. the things you buy every day to replace all you throw away-take care of what you have and feel the sun. take care of what you have- and feel the sun

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Clara

in March 11th, 2006 @ 17:20

I just got into a really good High School for writing (going there for 9th grade next year)……..

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emogrl

in March 11th, 2006 @ 18:18

*marvels @ her thread halting powers*

what? no moderating tonite? k, then i might as well post this thingie so ppl can read it + say how creeped out they are tomorrow morning. this was the one i was hesitant on posting a few days ago. anyways here we go:

a paradox for love

theyre in a dim room musik filling it seeping into both bodies in a pounding wailing intoxicating fugue of ironic bliss as others watch, but remember respect.

theyre as close as ever but still yearn to be closer not phased the slightest by the underground chill. he takes. her hand. ten icy fingers interlocking-5 chipped black nails + 5 red as life. they are ones abstract idea of beautiful misery shrouded in shapeless black.

their hearts beating stronger than ever-nevertheless-adrenaline giving them the best high each has ever felt, each thinks of what life would be like together + forgets their quondam desire for death. only thankful that the world even has a place for them-small, dark, hidden, yet with a silken lining that surpasses all others will avoid it until they can no longer-and soon realize what they have been missing out on

one grips the railing palm perspiring + descends into the darkness assailed by the symphony of chaos then stops + smells the must, reminded of incredible things from generations passed hidden in boxes, + watches the 2 faces-just like a black + white foto-almost concealed by dark smooth hair. one feels a wisp of desire, wonders why the avoided can be so powerfully attractive, why the antithesis can outshine the ideal w/ its unimagined beauty.

…told u i was in a creepy state of mind!

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emogrl

in March 11th, 2006 @ 18:19

#111: lucky!

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114

King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 11th, 2006 @ 22:39

Who likes shel silverstien? Me, Pick Me! I like shel silverstien! Especially the falling up poem.

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Trillian of Rhodes

in March 11th, 2006 @ 22:52

ok, i just tried my hand at lymeirics amd it was really hard, but this is what I cma e up with

Sarcasm
It must be the sign of the keen
Intellect of a human being
That, requiring a way
To voice our own say
States the opposite of what it does mean

uhhh I think some of the grammar is wrong their but oh well.

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frankenfaerie

in March 12th, 2006 @ 10:10

i do not like shel silverstien.

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Dragon eye

in March 12th, 2006 @ 10:32

Dragons above- Dragon eye

Leathery wings, sharp talons.
Flying upward towards the sun.
Thier eyes a-flame, a smooth flowing shape.
Thier mouth opens, out shoots a flame.
Teeth like rasors, emerald scales.
A pink forked tounge, a swinging tail.
Swooping twirling in the sky,
Powerfull wings let them fly.
Thier colors vary from pink to gold.
They spring into the air, wings unfold.
The form that children always love,
The form of the dragons, the Dragons Above

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emogrl

in March 12th, 2006 @ 11:56

Stone Airplane (by Shel Silverstein)

i made an airplane out of stone i always did like staying home

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frankenfaerie

in March 12th, 2006 @ 15:03

A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun

-emily dickinson

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Trillian of Rhodes

in March 12th, 2006 @ 17:37

I like the rhyming in your poem, Dragon Eye.

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Violetfire

in March 12th, 2006 @ 18:06

no poems at the moment, sorry

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echomikeromeo

in March 12th, 2006 @ 20:27

“I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical”

Thanks, Duncan!

My favourite bit about G&S is how the chorus always repeats what the main character has just sung — I tend to go rolling and laughing on the ground.

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King George the MMMXXLIII

in March 13th, 2006 @ 09:15

Once I heard that poets have a shorter than normal life span. I better not right any good poetry. If I write bad poetry, than whoever decides how long your life is couldn’t get past the first line to decide if it’s poetry of not.

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Dragon Eye

in March 13th, 2006 @ 09:44

This is a riddle that I got from the book Dragonology.

Little nancy edycoat in a white pettycoat with a little red nose.
The longer she stands the shorter she grows. What is she.

A candle

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Violetfire

in March 13th, 2006 @ 16:35

Is that pronounced “e-com-ick-a-rom-e-o”?

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Dragon Eye

in March 15th, 2006 @ 10:38

I liked your sarcasm poem, Trillian of Rhodes. And grammer really doesn’t matter, especialy in poems. Take it from me, I’m a poet. (I’m not an especially good speller)

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Jadestone

in March 15th, 2006 @ 18:43

Okay everyone! I dont normallywritepoeme, so im looking to you for advice. This quartr, our book report had to bei poem form. Heres mine, so please tell me howi can improve it.

Death Be Not Proud

A boy, called Johnny
Open-minded and bright
But immersed in the struggle
A never-ending fight

Racked with spells a dizziness
He never complained
Through pounding headaches
He endured the pain

One day at school he fainted
And went to the hospital
They thought he had polio
But it was something much more fatal

He was youthful in spirit
And not very old
But from him a secret was hidden
A truth was not told

The doctor student operation
And would not tell him why
They looked inside his goal
And found a tumor of great size

They removed as much of it as they could
But had to leave half in his head
And still didn’t tell him what they were doing
Leaving him to wonder instead

Through countless months
In treatment he lay
But his ailment would not leave
Instead it just stayed

But he was still is bright as always
Both in mind and spirit
He continued on with his studies
Being left behind, he feared it

In one day he wrote a letter to Einstein
Discussing series of space-time relativity
And proposed a new solution for the problem
Proving his own immense ingenuity

And Einstein Row wrote back
Much to their disbelief
Asking about Johnny’s theories
And hoping one day to meet

Yet Johnny remained as modest as ever
Choosing not to boast or gloat
Instead writing another letter to Einstein
Saying there was a still much he did not know

But forever he was shielded
The truth, he could not abide
For his greatest and only asset
Was his will to survive

One day he was sent a spray of flowers
And he asked why they couldn’t wait till he was dead
So finally the news was broken to him
About the things going on in his head

At once he asked the phone
So he might close friend
And told them almost proudly
â€œThere’s a tumor inside my head!â€

He was a picnic, 24 hours a day
And if his calls are not answered
He simply got the nurse’s attention
By blasting away on his recorder

And so it went for Johnny
Day by day and night by night
Yet he never ceased in his struggle
His never-ending fight

And one day the bump on his head opened
Revealing the tumor inside
The doctors rushed in with their staff
And drained it till it was dry

And with great leaps and bounds
Johnny began to recover
Everyone was rejoicing
The doctors, his father and mother

But once the gun, he was stricken
As the tumor arose once more
And once again they operated
With Johnny filled with horror

Yet still he remained ever jolly
Though the effort cost him dearly
It took all his energy to maintain
The mask of happiness he wore so clearly

His grip on life lessoned slowly
Draining away with each day
Ebbing like the tide
His energy would not stay

And one day he would not waken
Hour by hour he worsened and worsened
Till finally he lay pale and still
Like they death and taken him

Yet his memory lives on today
By, friend’s, family and all
Across the nation many have heard
How Johnny stood proud and tall

And his father, a kindhearted man
Told Johnny’s story for all to read out
Pages he filled with memories of his son
And he titled it Death Be Not Proud

Comments, Please! I need feedback!

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Violetfire

in March 15th, 2006 @ 20:38

The rhyming didn’t match, but I can see how it’d be hard to do with a book report. Good job.

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Jadestone

in March 15th, 2006 @ 21:46

Thank you, but its an inner rhyme scheme. If you say it right it rhymes.

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Duncan_Quagmire

in March 16th, 2006 @ 05:24

“The Naming of Cats” — Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats — T. S. Eliot

“The naming of cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

“First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor, or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey–
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames;
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter–
But all of them sensible everyday names.

“But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that is peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can hekeep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?

“Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quazo or Coripat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellyrum–
Names that never belong to more than one cat.

“But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you will never guess;
The name that no human research can discover–
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.

“When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.”

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Violetfire

in March 16th, 2006 @ 15:46

Nice. Did that book have other cat poems in it?

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Duncan_Quagmire

in March 16th, 2006 @ 16:45

The whole book is cat poems. Fifteen of them, to be exact.

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Jadestone

in March 16th, 2006 @ 17:01

Cool.

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fishyjr.

in March 16th, 2006 @ 17:19

(THIS IS A HAIKU)
“SNOW”
FALLING DOWN UNHEARD
SWIRLING BY THE WINDOW PANE
MAKING TREES TURN WHITE.

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Skipper Nancy Blackett (formerly known as Trillian of Rhodes)

in March 17th, 2006 @ 18:46

Galaxy Song (Eric Idle)

Spoken: Whenever life gets you down Mrs. Brown,
And things seem hard or tough,
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
And you feel that you’ve had quite enough…

Just remember that you’re standing on a planet that’s evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour,
That’s orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it’s reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the ‘Milky Way’.

Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It’s a hundred thousand light years side to side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick,
But out by us it’s just three thousand light years wide.
We’re thirty thousand light years from galactic central point.
We go round every two hundred million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute and that’s the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you’re feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space,
‘Cause there’s bugger all down here on Earth.

By Eric Idle, one of my biggest idols, this is my favorite song by him (along with ALways Look on the Bright Side of Life)

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Jadestone

in March 17th, 2006 @ 22:11

Could people please comment on 127? Its got rhyming problems and needs work. I would greatly appreciate some advice. I dont normally write poems.

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Violetfire

in March 18th, 2006 @ 18:41

Umm…. for the second stanza where it goes
“Racked with spells a dizziness
He never complained
Through pounding headaches
He endured the pain”
I think
“Racked with spells of dizziness
He never did complain
Through many pounding headaches
He endured the pain.”
Goes better with the rhythm.

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Ishmael

in March 20th, 2006 @ 20:41

I’m a poet! and I do no it!

Dark beings in woods
a swarm to attack a city
the goblins await

charging walls madly
raging in battle, slaying armies
they breach the defense

the goblins plunder
burning, breaking, killing, death
they murder many men

the heroes swoop down
riding dragons and phoenixes
slaying many goblins

dont you love haiku? here are some real poems:
I kinda like this one:

White Lily flower
A cold rain shower
In its stem
The Holy Grail’s power

and this one i think is very cool:

European Brown Bat,
big Florida Water Rat,
all the thing I hear at night,
they give me such a fright.

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Lusifer INk

in March 20th, 2006 @ 21:13

OKay, who stole my name?

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frankenfaerie

in March 21st, 2006 @ 16:49

someone stole your name? *horrified gasp*

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KillerQueen

in March 22nd, 2006 @ 15:34

If you people are wondering about my name, here you go. It’s a Queen song that I absolutely love; I don’t mean to fabricate myself….Or suggest anything, for that matter.

She keeps her Moet et Chandon
In a pretty cabinet
‘Let them eat cake’ she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
Buildin’ a remedy
For Kruschev and Kennedy
And anytime an invitation
You can’t decline

Caviar and cigarettes
Well-versed in etiquette
Extraordinarliy nice

(Chorus)
She’s a killer queen
Gunpower, Turpentine
Dynamite with a lasar beam
Garunteed to blow your mind
Anytime

Recommended at the price
Insaitiable in appetite
Wanna try?

To avoid complications
She never kept the same address
In conversation
She spoke just like a baroness
Met a man from China
Went down to Geisha Minor
Then again incidentally
If your that way inclined

Perfume came naturally from Paris
For fast cars, she couldn’t care less
Fastidious and precise

(Chorus)

Drop of a hat she’s as willing as
Playful as a pussy cat
Then momentarily out of action
Temporarily out of gas
She’ll absolutely drive you wild, wild
She’s out to get you

(Chorus)

Recommended at the price
Insaitiable in appetite
Wanna try?
You wanna try?

Wow, I have a TON more songs I love with all my heart. But this is already quite long.
I also have some poems that would be sweet to post….Craaw, ‘ello!
See y’all around…

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frankenfaerie

in March 22nd, 2006 @ 16:15

yay! i ♥ queen!

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Ishmael

in March 23rd, 2006 @ 16:46

@lusifer ink. I stole your old name, and I didn’t know it was your old name until someone asked me if I was you, beacause i’m a newbie

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Duncan_Quagmire

in March 23rd, 2006 @ 20:54

I just wrote this a few minutes ago. It’s not that great, and it still needs a lot of work. Oh, well. Maybe you won’t completely hate it.

— D_Q

“Alone”

She sits alone.
Seeing only superficial smiles.
No one seems to care.
Not really.

â€œHow are you?â€
they ask.
Their voices empty,
only faking concern.

â€œFine,â€
sheâ€™ll always answer,
even though she knows
itâ€™s never true.

She lives her life in her own deception.
Day in,
day out.
Pretending to be someone sheâ€™s not.

She feels hopeless,
worthless,
unwanted,
unwelcomed.

Crying to herself every night,
she slowly forgets who she is,
who she was,
who she could be.

But no one seems to care.
No one seems to love her.
No one seems to notice.
She is
alone.

All she wants is a friend.
All she craves is love.
All she needs
is hope.

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Violetfire

in March 24th, 2006 @ 13:36

Does anyone remember that limerick, i think it went something like this, but I don’t know all of it

There once was a girl named (I can’t remember what her name was, I think it started with an M)
Who was hit in the head with a wombat
When asked if it hurt she said “not a bit,
you can do it again if you like”
Like i said, I can’t remember all of it.

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 24th, 2006 @ 13:54

That reminds me of one my father taught me:

There once was a man from Dundee
Who was stung on the nose by a wasp.
When asked, “Does it hurt?”
He replied, “No, it doesn’t.
Thank goodness it wasn’t a hornet.”

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Violetfire

in March 24th, 2006 @ 14:02

Aaah. It’s the family of people-getting-hit-with-stuff-and-not-getting-hurt unrhyming-limemricks.

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in March 24th, 2006 @ 14:14

Yes. I imagine they’re easy to write. Let’s see:

There once was a Muse named Urania
Who was smacked in the face by a pie.
When Mimi said, “Ouch!”
She replied, “Just ignore it.
Complaining would only encourage him.”

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frankenfaerie

in March 24th, 2006 @ 15:15

*twitch* they…don’t…rhyme….*twitchtwitch*

there once was a wonderful time
when people still knew how to rhyme
but some did not care
so, they, unaware,
proceeded to upset space-time

did i mention meter? meter is gooooode *twitch*

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Darth Yoda

in March 24th, 2006 @ 15:43

*twich*
I couldn’t agree more
I need a theard with rhymes galore

but un-rhymerss are good unless they don’t follow any rules

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frankenfaerie

in March 24th, 2006 @ 19:53

twitch fest! *seizure*

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frankenfaerie

in March 25th, 2006 @ 13:03

and yes, i know i rhymed time with time. i couldn’t think of anything else.

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emogrl

in March 25th, 2006 @ 14:40

auggh. i had to ride in a car + listen to it for half an hour yeaterday. i can stand maybe 3 rap songs in the entire universe. beyond that, i dont understand why they even call it music. some ppl say that raps sounds straight from the heart + all that. if you want something “straight from the heart”, try listening to a seething, angry teenager metal song. ha.

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kricket

in March 25th, 2006 @ 18:56

Delicate hooves beat upon the ground
Flashing horns flicker in the moonlight
White flanks heave
White manes fly in the air
Intelligent eyes reflect the night
Pale tails stretch out behind
Flee the dreaded mortal enemies
Flee the teeth and claws
Flee the dreaded creatures of the night
Flee the shadows of the wolves
Run for dawn
Pray for daylight
To chase away these shadows of the night
Flee Unicorns Flee!!!

is that alright? i mean i don’t write poetry that much…

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kricket

in March 25th, 2006 @ 19:11

He is dying
The world is to end soon
He says desperately
No one listens
No!
He wants to cry out
The world is to end!
But no one listens
He is rushed to a hospital
Please…
His time is short
No one listens to his pleas
For he is raving mad, they say
I’m not! he wants to cry out.
But no one listens
Gasping for air
No!
He cries out a last time
No one listens
Doctors mill about
He takes a dying breath
It was all for nothing, he screams
Yet no one listens
He could hear it moving
Pulsing in his veins
He shuddered; his life had been in vain
No one listens
The world goes black
He lashes out in fury
Screaming in the blackness
No one listens
Light floods his vision
He is alive
He yells for joy
No one listens
He is alone
No one is around
He cried happy tears
No one listened
He smiles
Life pulsed through his veins
The world would survive another day

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Duncan_Quagmire

in March 28th, 2006 @ 15:28

For those of you that care so deeply about poems rhyming, here’s one that does:

“Listen to the Silence”

It’s so hard to hear the whisper
in this world of bitter noise.
Through the screeching and the screaming
we must strain to hear His voice.
Chaos and calamity will
mask th quiet call.
But we still can’t stop our searching
till we’ve given Him our all.

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Copper Bigfoot

in March 28th, 2006 @ 15:55

My God, you guys are dpressing. Poetryis supposed tolift someones prits, or their connection with nature.

I have an an entire book of poetry thatI wrote, and I won’t post my best ones (My Limericks) Nor will I ostylovepoems (whihc I keep in my head and not in my book), but, here goes…..

Kitten Plays in Grass
He bounces around and eats mice
Look at kitty run!

A “Sequal” sort of to one of my good poems. Oh coruse, sequals are always worse than the original.

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Duncan_Quagmire

in March 28th, 2006 @ 16:27

(#157:)

I perfer “my gosh.”

According to William Wordsworth, “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.”

Life is not easy. If someone is going through a hard time or struggling with something or or is really frustrated with something (or even themselves) or whatever, there’s a good chance that some of their poetry will be somewhat “depressing.”

Also, what may be depressing to you may have a completely different meaning to the author.

BUT — you should never assume that the author is the speaker in a poem.

[/RANT]

—D_Q

Sometimes,
it seems
the only thing
I can succeed at

is failure.

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Pentatonikk

in March 28th, 2006 @ 17:20

157 (CB)- Poetry is about initmate thoughts. It’s hard to fake happiness or sadness when you’re that close to someone’s mind. By all means, write happy poetry if you want to. But people like me. who kill half the main characters in their books, tend to prefer the angsty stuff. This one was written as a fanfiction originally, but it’s pretty clear even if you don’t know what inspired it.

Yeah, and I’m one of those people who writes stream-of-concisousness, without rhyming or much of a meter either.

Breathe
Just a little longer
One more time
Two
Three
Stop

I want
I want it to stop
Rattle, pull, pain, wait
And again
Again
Again

Flowers
Just a little longer
Sky
Just a little longer
Here
Just a little longer

Wind
On my face
Will it still be here
When I’m not?

Will they see it
Will you see it
And remember me?

I wait
Just a little longer
I want
Just a little longer

One more
Two
Three
Eternity
Is in the moment
And the moment
Is eternity

I live for this moment
I live for eternity

When the wind stops
Will they still hear me?
Will you still hear me?

I stay
Just a little longer
I am
Just a little longer.

It’s supposed to be ambiguous as all heck. If you understand it, please tell me. NOTE: I’m not a poet.

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Copper Bigfoot

in March 28th, 2006 @ 17:58

I write Hiaku and Limreck mostly. It helps me to write a poem when I have strict rules to follow. My love poems are Free Verse, though. Well, more like “I miss you and will never see you again” poems. I may try Cinquain.Most of poems are nature poems about the things around me. Let me try out a Cinquain….

Kitten
Small Animal
Curiously Playing
A great fuzzy warmth out an in
Young Cat

My first (voluntarily written) cinquain Don’t wiorry, not allmy poems are about kittens, just the bad ones.

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frankenfaerie

in March 29th, 2006 @ 14:54

meter!! meeeeeeeeeter!!

meter+rhyme=

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

ok, so the rest of the poem is off….:

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, be passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then ’tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.

ah, well.

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frankenfaerie

in March 29th, 2006 @ 14:55

dickinson, by the way.

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Aleu_roleplayer

in March 30th, 2006 @ 20:19

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Aleu_roleplayer

in March 30th, 2006 @ 20:27

My dad likes Tom Lehrer

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Copper Bigfoot

in April 2nd, 2006 @ 22:30

Crtissism for my poems???

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Duncan_Quagmire

in April 3rd, 2006 @ 15:50

Sorry, it doesn’t rhyme.

–D_Q

“Popular”

Pressure squeezes me. Will I fit in? Can I fit in?
Only if I watch this, wear this, buy this.
Playing in a deadly game of chasing dying dreams. Never stopping, never looking
Underneath the surface. Never thinking for myself, just
Longing to belong. Lost somewhere in the sea of faces, searching for
Acceptance, I only find, I always find, why must I find
Regrets?

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Em

in April 3rd, 2006 @ 15:58

oh, thats good.

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Skipper Nancy and Lemon Curry

in April 3rd, 2006 @ 17:44

166. That was great! ‘linging to belong’ ‘chasing dying dreams’. I like it because it capture the points about fitting in without seeming self involved or self pitying. the rythms are good too.

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Skipper Nancy and Lemon Curry

in April 3rd, 2006 @ 17:46

Copper Bigfoot: me likee kittens

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sweet melpomene (formerly known as frankenfaerie)

in April 3rd, 2006 @ 18:02

ok i wrote this one PLEASE tell me what you think

So peel away the ashes
To the dawn it eats the night
If e’er there was an answer
It can’t be found so down the flight
To all the ancient words reveal
A tryanny, at best
If falling man to shatter meant
He’d not a heart in chest
But though his wickedness prevail
A timeless, just demise
Perhaps through blinded eyes can see
The path no longer flies
Though in contempt it might have gone
Down then, his tragedy
Now walks the distand plane away
But a coward he does flee
Then through the hate, contempt around
A failing truth he grasps
Whence turn the world on itself
Break off the iron clasps

i have MANY more. i might pubish a collection..but i’m really not sure.

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sweet melpomene

in April 7th, 2006 @ 16:38

just a girl by no doubt

Take this pink ribbon off my eyes
I’m exposed
And it’s no big surprise
Don’t you think I know
Exactly where I stand
This world is forcing me
To hold your hand
‘Cause I’m just a girl, little ‘ol me
Don’t let me out of your sight
I’m just a girl, all pretty and petite
So don’t let me have any rights

Oh…I’ve had it up to here!
The moment that I step outside
So many reasons
For me to run and hide
I can’t do the little things I hold so dear
‘Cause it’s all those little things
That I fear

‘Cause I’m just a girl I’d rather not be
‘Cause they won’t let me drive
Late at night I’m just a girl,
Guess I’m some kind of freak
‘Cause they all sit and stare
With their eyes

I’m just a girl,
Take a good look at me
Just your typical prototype

Oh…I’ve had it up to here!
Oh…am I making myself clear?
I’m just a girl
I’m just a girl in the world…
That’s all that you’ll let me be!
I’m just a girl, living in captivity
Your rule of thumb
Makes me worry some

I’m just a girl, what’s my destiny?
What I’ve succumbed to Is making me numb
I’m just a girl, my apologies
What I’ve become is so burdensome
I’m just a girl, lucky me
Twiddle-dum there’s no comparison

Oh…I’ve had it up to!
Oh…I’ve had it up to!!
Oh…I’ve had it up to here!

goode song. and yes, it’s sarcasm.

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Nancy et Lemon Curry

in April 7th, 2006 @ 18:21

145. yeah I was the one who posted the (faux)limerick about the girl getting hit on the head with a wombat. You got it pretty much right, except the first line.

There once was a girl from Melbourne
Who was hit on the head with a wombat
when they asked her if it hurt,
she said “no not a bit,
you can do it again if you like”

OK OK all you poetry purists, it doesnt rhyme and the meters messed up. Thats the point. Its a joke. Hee hee?

maggie and milly and molly and may

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered and shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
that raced sideways while blowing bubbles; and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always oursleves we find in the sea

E. E. Cummings

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Nancy et Lemon Curry

in April 7th, 2006 @ 18:45

I had a thought, the other day
but then it went and flew away,

I hope that it is somewhere near
It’s the first I’ve had in over a year.

by me NANCY (with help from Lemon)

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Nancy et Lemon Curry

in April 7th, 2006 @ 18:58

Could any one come up with the last line for the limerick I’m working on (it’s a redo of one I did a while back)?

We must be very clever indeed
that, when finding ourselves in need
of an effective way
to have our say
________________

It’s about sarcasm, so I was thinking along the lines of “we state tha exact opposite of what we mean” but I dont know how to make it have the right rhyme and rythm.
Suggestions?

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sweet melpomene

in April 7th, 2006 @ 19:24

we do the incorrect deed

doesn’t really make sense, though…

i really need to find my rhyming dictionary…

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Nancy et Lemon Curry

in April 8th, 2006 @ 01:23

What was your name before it was sweet melpomene? I dont remember….
Thanks for the suggestion. I think I can work with that.

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sweet melpomene

in April 8th, 2006 @ 18:30

‘t was frankenfaerie

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The Skipper, and a reluctant Lemon Curry.

in April 8th, 2006 @ 19:08

right. I remember now. It got confusing coz people called both you and FantasyFan?!?! FF.

No one else posts on this thread anymore.

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sweet melpomene

in April 9th, 2006 @ 09:55

yeah…..i miss this thread….

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Axa

in April 9th, 2006 @ 12:51

-REVIVES-

This is apoem by Emily Dickinson that I have to memorize for school, and I absolutley love it.

It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down —
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos — crawl —
Nor Fire — for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool —

And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine —

As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some –

When everything that ticked — has stopped —
And Space stares all around —
Or Grisly frosts — first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground —

But, most, like Chaos – Stopless — cool —
Without a Chance, or Spar —
Or even a Report of Land —
To justify — Despair.

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The Skipper

in April 9th, 2006 @ 22:02

Wow. I love good poetry. It gives me shivers.
Thanks for Posting Axa!

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Wooly Mamoth

in April 12th, 2006 @ 15:28

I realy like “Mothra’s Song”, from the Mothra Movies, Here it is!

Mosu La, Ya! Mosu La
Dongkeng Kasad doa
Ing Doa Mu
Rot Tok Wara doa
Hamba Hamba Mu Ya
Radang bagung
Tong Yu Kang La
Kasad ku Yang!

——————- Wooly

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Skipper Nancy Blackett

in April 12th, 2006 @ 18:16

Wow, that would probably be even cooler if I understood what it meant
… or does it not mean any thing?
Anyway, I like it! I think it I will add to my desk-quotes.

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Purple Panda (formerly Malignant Mandolin)

in April 13th, 2006 @ 07:45

I wrote this for a portfolio to get into a high school for Creative Writing (I got in!)

Dadâ€™s Shortcut

We packed the canoe with all our supplies,
a lunch,
paddles
and extra clothes
if ours got wet.
I brought along my favorite shirt,
purple with white polka dots.
My mom got it for me at a second-hand store.
I wore it as often as possible.
We joined the riverâ€™s current,
and canoed for a long time.
After a few hours,
my dad looked at his watch.
It was time to go.
My dad decided to take a shortcut
back to the car.
We canoed under some fragrant branches of an overgrown pine,
and were about halfway through when we capsized.
Sandwiches,
paddles,
glasses,
and my shirt
fell into the strong current of the river.
I thrashed around
trying to find my dad,
scraping my leg on a sharp stone
lying at the bottom of the river.
When dad scooped me up,
I clung to him as a paperclip would to a magnet.
I was shivering.

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Lemon Curry

in April 15th, 2006 @ 03:12

Panda, that’s good. That details about the sandwiches and the shirt were good because I felt sad when the boat capsized and they all fell in. Well, I mean, I wasn’t really sad, but they made me actually care. And I like the line “I clung to him as a paperclip would to a magnet.”
Is this a true story?

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Purple Panda (formerly Malignant Mandolin)

in April 15th, 2006 @ 16:21

Yeah, it’s true

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Skipper Nancy Blackett and LC

in April 16th, 2006 @ 01:51

The day begins
with a buzzing sound
two cups of tea
and a few mumbled
morning words.

At the bus stop, I find
a stretching sky
celebrating something
that everyone else forgot.

On the bus, I find
the same thing as
yesterday, and
the day before that.

A school, I find many things,
though none are what I’m looking for.

At school, I find
a person, surrounded by
companions,
lost at sea

I find another person
surrounded by emptiness
stranded in the desert.

I hope someone finds me.

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Purple Panda

in April 17th, 2006 @ 09:05

SNB/LC – That’s really good! I like how it ends.

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WizGirl

in April 18th, 2006 @ 11:53

I have some. I’ll have to come back, however, as I am at school and my journal is at home. But never fear, I shall return!

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Skipper Nancy

in April 20th, 2006 @ 23:35

Yay! More posts! Thanks Purple Panda. I think it needs work.. the first stanza doesn’t really match the rest, and, after reflection, I don’t think the third one works at all. But I’m gald you liked it.
I actually never used to write or read poetry. But this thread got me hooked!

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Purple Panda

in April 23rd, 2006 @ 11:16

We need more people to post on this thread!!!
to set a good example:::::::::::

How to sail

Donâ€™t be afraid.

Imagine flying.
A bird enjoying a warm day.

Donâ€™t worry about steering.
Just grasp the tiller
and point it in the opposite way you want to go.

Pull in the sail when it luffs,
and coast along the water
as a sled would down a snowy hill.

Don’t worry about capsizing.
Just let out your sail
and jump overboard.

Embrace the water
as two school friends would
after a summer vacation.

Donâ€™t be afraid.
Just grasp the tiller
and point it in the opposite way you want to go.

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Skipper Nancy

in April 23rd, 2006 @ 12:42

Yes! A poem about sailing. I’m a sailor, as you can see in my name. I’m captain of the boat Amazon. (well in my dreams, anyway. They’re really the only place I can sail in, seeing as I live in AZ).

I love your poem. I like that you repeated that the first and last full stanzas.

A Moment Outside, in July

Summertime

The heat presses in
Hugging you

It’s only there if you take notice
Forget the burn, and breath
The dry, spicy air

The cicada calls
rise and fall,
like waves on a beach

The birds sing sleepily,
And snakes curl up under rocks
Pack rats hide in heaps of trash

The dirt and sand
are a speckeled ocean;
glitter of rock and pulse of shadow

The trees brush their bows
along the sandy ground
Stroking it, a mother’s caress

The sun’s fingers
grip your skin

The world sighs

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Skipper Nancy

in April 23rd, 2006 @ 20:58

People really need to start posting here again.

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:01

It’s supercalifragilisticexpialodocious.
Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious.
If you say it loud enough you’ll always sound precocious.
Supercalifragilisticexpialodocious!

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:05

He could have called
Ten thousand angels
To destroy the world
And set Him free.
He could have called
Ten thousand angels,
But He died alone
For you and me.

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:06

I’m posting!

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:06

**Postpostpostpostpostpostpostpostpostpostpost**

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:07

Ode to a Goldfish:
Wet friend.

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:14

It's crowded in worship today, As she slips in, trying to fade into the faces. The girls' teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know, Farther than they know-ow.
But if we are the Body, Why aren't His arms reaching? Why aren't His hands healing? Why aren't His words teaching? And if we are the Body, Why aren't His feet going? Why is His love not showing them there is a way? There is a way. A traveler is far away from home. He sheds his coat, and quietly sinks into the back row. The weight of their judgmental glances Tells him that his chances Are better out on the road.
But if we are the Body, Why aren't His arms reaching? Why aren't His hands healing? Why aren't His words teaching? And if we are the Body, Why aren't His feet going? Why is His love not showing them there is a way? There is a way. Jesus is the way.

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:22

Here is Doubting Thomas by Nickel Creek:

What will be left, when I've drawn my last breath, Besides the folks I've met and the folks who know me? Will I discover a soul-saving love, or, Just the dirt above and below me?
I'm a Doubting Thomas I took a promise, But I do not feel safe. Oh me of little faith. Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face, The beg to be spared 'cause I'm a coward. If there's a master of death, I'll bet he's holding his breath As I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power. I'm a Doubting Thomas I can't keep my promises 'Cause I don't know what's safe. Oh me of little faith. Can I be used to help others find truth, When I'm scared I'll find proof that it's a lie? Can I be lead down a trail dropping bread crumbs That prove I'm not ready to die? Please give me time to decipher the signs. Please forgive me for time that I've wasted. I'm a Doubting Thomas I'll take your promise, Though I know nothing is safe. Oh me of little faith.
Oh me of little faith.

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:27

Anthony by Nickel Creek:

Anthony, Anthony. Oh he said he can't love me. But I think he can. Yes I think he can. And I told him that Just before he ran. Just before he ran.
Anthony, Anthony. Oh he said He can't love me. "Cause he doesn't want Anything I have, Or anything I am.
Anthony, Anthony. Oh he said That he can't love me. But I think he can. Yes I think he can. And I told him that Just before he ran. Anthony.

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Gross disgusting yuck

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:31

Hey GAPA: What’s your email address?

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kokopelli #13

in April 24th, 2006 @ 12:34

HI!

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Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in April 24th, 2006 @ 13:00

GDY (202),

I don’t check it very often, but gapa@musefanpage.com should do the job eventually.

You’re really Kokopelli #13, aren’t you?

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Sweet Melpomene

in April 24th, 2006 @ 15:12

…the luck will rub off, when I shakes hands with you!

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Purple Panda

in April 24th, 2006 @ 15:28

YAY! mmore posts!
cool!
I love to sail, too! I sail sunfish….what do you sail, SN?

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 24th, 2006 @ 20:52

I sail an imaginary little sailing dinghy…
No, actually,I don’t sail anything (though I have sailed a sunfish once before). I live in Arizona so we don’t get to do that much. But I love boats and lakes and oceans, when I get the chance to be near them. I really want to learn to sail on my own.

Captain Nancy Blackett is a girl who sails in one of my fav series of books, Swallows and Amazons.

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Purple Panda

in April 25th, 2006 @ 17:25

I don’t live near many sailing-worthy bodies of water either, but every summer, I go to northern Michigan and sail on Lake Michigan. I can sail on my own, and am liscenced to sail.

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 25th, 2006 @ 22:55

Lucky… boats are awesome.

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Erato

in April 29th, 2006 @ 09:17

I’ve probably posted this before but… I just need to get my emotions out.

Hes a Tramp
But they Love him
Breaks a new heart every day
Hes a Tramp. They adore him
And I only hope he stays the way

Hes a Tramp
Hes a Scrondrel
Hes a Rounder
hes a Cad

Hes a Tramp
But I love him
Yes even I have got it pretty bad

You can never tell when he’ll show up
He gives you plenty of trouble
I guess hes just a no count pup
But I wish that he were double

Hes a Tramp
Hes a Rover
Ands theres nothing more to say

If hes a Tramp, hes a good one
And I wish that I could travel his way

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:40

Itâ€™s like an addiction
They say its obsession
It scares me
The way people are

They donâ€™t know theyâ€™re crazy
donâ€™t know the reality
They cant seen to find
A way out

I never want to be
Anything like they be
Trust me
And I never will

For deep in eternity
All left is empty
There must be more
Left for them still

So sit back and talk to me
Look in the eyes you see
And neither
Will ever go wrong

For safe for eternity
Wonâ€™t leave me empty
It will not leave me
For long

Is it wrong to know
Then knowledge is sin
But that cannot be true
For knowledgeable win

And all of us know
If the devil shall win
Thereâ€™s not hope in the world
And soon it will end

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:40

Nobody sees what I can
Nobody sees the world here
Who can see anything my way
Who knows how we came here

Who believes in fate unchanged
Who thinks that we have our souls
Who thinks that sometimes we may feel
Far separate from out soul

Who sees many a problem
When there is nothing thatâ€™s wrong
Who thinks that singing is joyful
But killing the music is wrong

Anyone out there thatâ€™s like me?
Anyone out there that sees?
There must be someone there like me
Or maybe it only is me

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:40

The words coming out
Come in short bursts of doubt
And I cannot make up my mind

The rain falling down
Lands soft without a sound
And I donâ€™t know where I am

You look at me once
And I look again
There has to be nothing wrong

Life may be wonderful
But it all feels so sad
Not at peace until the end

Try as we may
and try as we might
There has to be more to the truth

For it feels so false
When I try to be me
And I end up trying to act like you

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:41

The light in the window
Shone onto the bed
And I knew that you
Couldnâ€™t be any more
Than anything I already had
And so I left
I ran out of the door
And bathed in the
Sunlightâ€™s rain outside
The flower from your hair
And the snake from your shoe
Came to life
And wrapped them around me
The snake choked me
And bit my heart
The flower blew pollen
In my face
And stopped my breath
And you walked by
And stepped on me
And I was squashed
Like a bug
So I looked at you
And you made no sense
Flipping your hair
And yet you hated me
But you loved me
And I did too
I did too

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:42

Poison

I would know it if you loved me
Know it if you hate
Know it if you would like to
Think, and contemplate
Think about it softly
Love me like it’s true
Make it be original
And stay true to you

Donâ€™t do things that aren’t right
Donâ€™t do things that are
Donâ€™t do anything you think
Will make you stray far
Far away is where we go
Far, far, from ourselves
Donâ€™t you wish
Youâ€™ll never know
What they have to tell

Listen like you mean it
Looking like you do
Donâ€™t rush after anyone
Theyâ€™ll come after you
Tell me all the truth now
Donâ€™t tell me a lie
We know what to do now
I donâ€™t want to die

Maybe there is more here
Maybe there is none
All that’s left in this world
Is no longer fun
Canâ€™t you keep a secret
Hiding all the truth
Make it so they won’t be
Running after you

Chasing is a sin, now
Just fame is cursed
You might find out slowly
Or I could tell you first
Think with much a meaning
Sing without a tune
Make it be so great now
Or keep it all to you

Pour your heart from a cup
Let them lap it up
Make sure there is a drop left
Or you’ll fall from the top
Think that you’re so great, huh?
Think that you’re so cool?
Maybe all your doing
Is the work of a fool

So be quick to decide, now
And try to savor truth
Make so you know, now
Love came upon you
So make sure that you’re weary
Make sure you’re aware
You try to impress all, now
But instead of that, you scare

Make everyone hate you
Or spread you feelings thin
Making each one love you
Almost is a sin
Try it as you may now
But speak without a clue
Reality is poison
And it’s taking over you

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:42

hahaha i got the slow down cowboy message XD

Door

Everything is set out
To what it can already be
Thereâ€™s more beyond the outside
More inside than we can see
Doors closed that seem open
Wonâ€™t welcome you today
And nothing you doâ€™s ever right
Not anything you say
And nobodyâ€™s a shadow
Nothing fighting anymore
If you crawl into a tunnel
Than you may come out a door

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:42

They

When you see
You think of something
When you know
You are aware
They are lurking
In the shadows
They are lurking
In your lair

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:47

Everyone

You can tell them your whole story
You can give them all your life
You can give all your problems
For them it wonâ€™t mean strife
You can be the best that you can
Try and try now as you may
Everyone has their agenda
And everyone has their day

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:47

This is the life
We all want to live
This is the thing
We all want to give
This is the truth
We all want to know
This is the way
We all want to go

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shriya

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:48

Maybe now you will
See me for me
And not for the
Holder of a boy
Called eternity
And he never ends
And I never send
Love to you
Love to him
In a letter
Sealed with a kiss
Not by e-mail
Not by phone
Just by thought
I stop those thoughts
And eternity ends
Never again

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shriya-- yeah, i really like poetry xD

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:49

I just saw you walk by
And my heart skipped a beat
And I stared at you
And you didnâ€™t even see me
You looked back
And then you looked away
I was embarrassed
To look at you, to know you
And you didnâ€™t know
Just how much I had a crush on
You, crush on you

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shriya-- does anybody read these???

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:49

Waves crash upon a sandy beach
And lick the rocky shore
Tasting all the people that
Had trodden there before

No more is left than left beneath
On ruins of a song
Determine if all that you preach
Is right and is not wrong

No more is said than what you see
Be careful what you say
For slowly passing is today
But quickly your life fades away

Tomorrow is the rising sun
Though none of us left here
The waves remember; donâ€™t forget,
Every passing year

The truth comes out when we resign
Draw away from our fear
The earth is cloth that we design
Our fate is coming near

Weâ€™ll see the answers in the end
But, waiting, just for now
The best that we can do today
Is left unspoken sound

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shriya. again.

in April 29th, 2006 @ 19:50

Here is a voice
For all of our wrongs
Here is a poem
Turned into a song
Here is a dream
That we can all share
Here is a light
That shines through the air
Here is a hope
For futures untold
Here is some courage
To make us all bold
Here is a life
To hold and to keep
Here is a tune
To lull you to sleep
Here is the magic
Thatâ€™s lying within
Here is the angel
That protects you from sin
Here is the loving
Here is the care
Here is our life
It lives everywhere

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 29th, 2006 @ 20:20

Bless you shriya for posting on the P&S thread!

There are many times in life
when you feel you are alone
Nothing seems to move
Frozen, cold, unknown

You feel as though the world
Was crumbling from inside
In places where you laughed
Now, instead, you cried

And though you tell yourself to stand,
Remain hard and though and strong,
You really feel as though
Your life has lost it’s song

But if you keep on singing,
Though the music’s out of key,
You find that there are others
Others lost at sea

The world has got it’s ice
and raging, firey hate
but it’s also made of it’s kindness,
learning, love, debate

A rock that in the night
seemed only cold and grey
may become a blazing crystal
with the dawn of a new day

And a tree that you thought dead
though black and withered with age
may grow it’s leaf again
once it escapes from winter’s cage

Remember that in life,
sadness isn’t rare
but if you keep on singing
you’ll find people who care.

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Pentatonikk

in April 29th, 2006 @ 21:24

EEK! I won this poetry contest at my library, see, and now I have to read it tomorrow, only it’s not a very good poem, and, and, and *hyperventilatehyperventilatehyperventilate*

Yeah. Ooookay…

I liked all the poems, Skipper and shriya. I did read them. A-C says she liked them too.

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Axa

in April 29th, 2006 @ 21:38

Oh Shriya, those are all so good! And that was awesome Nancy, very nice message. :3 I love poetry.

We just finished a poetry unit in my Language Arts class. I’m into more free verse , as seen in one I wrote. V. Kingdom Hearts 2 inspired. Very. Because Organization XIII = love.

—————————–

Remembering with sadness
All joy you now wish could be real again
And with a remorse
You watch it walk away

To be forgotten
We reason
Can be likened to many a thing
But is alike to nothing

But what is it
We ask, we ask
To be known and unknown
In the same breath?

Reasoning, we scratch at these glowing walls
Made of only what we’ve lost
And whisper- why?
The walls reply-
Why not?

In this city
With hollowed buildings
And lights that project our inner hopes
We bid you fare well
Although we know you won’t

To be forgotten
We whisper to a night that wasn’t listening
Is like nothing
In these worlds

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 30th, 2006 @ 00:38

Amazing poetry Shriya… I really like the one in 222. Yes, I did read them. All.
Waves crash upon a sandy beach
And lick the rocky shore
Tasting all the people that
Had trodden there before
Brilliant!

Wow Axa, that’s good. It’s nice that you can do free verse well, without making it just seem like a bunch of sentances stacked on top of eachother. I really like the verse:
Reasoning, we scratch at these glowing walls
Made of only what we’ve lost
And whisper- why?
The walls reply-
Why not?
The sort of subtle ryme with lines 3 and 4 makes it really nice.

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Em

in April 30th, 2006 @ 09:04

poem not by me

in flanders fields, the poppies blow
between the crosses, row on row
that mark our place, and in the sky
the larks still bravely singing, fly
scarce heard amid the guns below

we are the dead, short days ago
we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
loved, were loved, and now we lie
in flanders fields

take up our quarrel with the foe
to you from failing hands we throw
the torch: be yours to hold it high
if ye break faith with us the dead
we shall not sleep, though poppies grow
in flanders fields

that, is my favourite poem of all time.

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 30th, 2006 @ 11:28

Here’s a poem for Holocaust Remberance day, even though it’s a couple days late.

Say This City Has Ten Million Souls
W.H Auden

Say this city has ten million souls
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes
Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, there’s no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought is fair,
Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.

The consul banger the table and said;
‘If you’ve got no passport you’re officially dead’:
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a commitee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politley to return next year:
But where shall we do to-day, where shall we go to-day?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said:
‘If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread’;
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky
It was Hitler over Europe, saying: ‘They must die’;
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren’t German Jews, my dear, but they weren’t German Jews.

Went down to the harbour and stood upon the quay
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren’t the human race, my dear, they weren’t the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand floors;
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood ona great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 30th, 2006 @ 11:42

In the morning,
the rays of light race eachother
they trip and scatter on the tree tops

In the morning, the sand reflects
and mixes with the shadow
and pulses like an ocean

In the morning, the breeze is cool
but the air is hot in the sun
and warm in the shade

In the morning, the washed out sky
in painted again
by a golden brush.

In the morning, there’s still an eternity
till what comes
at the end of the day.

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Purple Panda

in April 30th, 2006 @ 16:31

SN

good poems

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Sweet Melpomene

in April 30th, 2006 @ 17:19

♡ them!

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Axa

in April 30th, 2006 @ 18:37

In the morning, the sand reflects
and mixes with the shadow
and pulses like an ocean

The imagery in that is superb. I can see the water and sand as you write! :3

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The Skipper Nancy

in April 30th, 2006 @ 18:59

Thank you, Panda.
I never used to read or write poetry before this thread.

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The Skipper Nancy

in May 1st, 2006 @ 18:40

And thanks Axa, too.
More poetry required…. quick, Skipper, think!
OK this is really bad, but I wrote it in my head one day when I was locked out if the house for a half hour.

There was a time, I do recall,
I found myself without a key
I was alone
There was no one
to open up that door for me
I tried each lock,
each window and door
I must have checked them 6 times or more
But, alas,
they all stood fast
(i couldnt find a good line to go here)
I grew bored
I was in need
of something for myself to do
and so I sat
and thought aloud
and composed this poem to say to you

Writing poetry is a really good way to pass time, especially if you give ryhme/meter.

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Purple Panda

in May 2nd, 2006 @ 17:11

Once upon a time,
There was a girl named Clara
and she decided she wanted to rhyme,
because it make her fair-a
and she wasn’t very good at rhyming
because she had bad timing
and this is the end of her poem
because she is feeling bow-em.

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The Skipper Nancy

in May 2nd, 2006 @ 17:55

Me likee Purple Panda!

Heres an Museblog poem:
Welcome to the Museblog
just join right in the fray
and if post here long enough
it might make sense someday

The GAPAs are our leaders
they read each thing we write
they do their jobs quite faithfully
even if it keeps them up at night!

Theres more, but I havent got it all figured out yet.

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Erato

in May 2nd, 2006 @ 18:02

Heres a vauge menaing poem (of which ‘m famous for)

Dizzy Climb Up
You Keep Going and Going
Till you finally fall

Hot Pink Bunny Points to anyone who can figure out what this is about.

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Purple Panda

in May 4th, 2006 @ 15:19

Erato #238 – – – rock climbing? (It was the only thing I could come up with)

I will try and fail to imitate SN=======

Museblog is cool
Museblog is fun
You normally don’t museblog in skool
but instead, in the sun

That was really fun! (I intentially made it really stupid)

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Copper Bigfoot Yeti Erato Hooray4spinytenrecs!

in May 4th, 2006 @ 16:05

No. Something much more-erm- Important than rock climbing.

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the pink stalking penguin of penzance who is way cooler than youll EVER be

in May 4th, 2006 @ 16:31

mi poem (its in an antholagy somewhere)

now the summer has grown old
the children start to cry
fot summer days so warm and long
have turned to falls sad song
the trees have shed their leafy coat
the flowers wilt away
another summes come
the wind now seems to say

*bows*

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the pink stalking penguin of penzance who is way cooler than youll EVER be

in May 4th, 2006 @ 16:33

listen 2 this poem by shel silverstein
HAT
Teddy said it was a hat
So I put it on
Now dad’s saying
“Where the heck’s
The toilet plunger gone?”

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Purple Panda

in May 4th, 2006 @ 20:56

*applause for tpspopwiwctyeb* (that’s a long name!)

night is near
I cannot hear
anything except
my snore-ept.

*bows*

poetry is fun
except in the sun
muse is cool
even in the pool.

These are so stupid they’re funny.

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Purple Panda

in May 4th, 2006 @ 20:57

you probably wouldn’t believe that I got into a special high school for writing. I was one of the 16 who got in out of 76 who auditioned!

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The Skipper Nancy

in May 4th, 2006 @ 22:57

(238) Well, I guess it could be love (though thats sort of vague).
I love your silly poems Purple! Theyre fun.
Thats nice , pink penguin. I like the line
the trees have shed their leafy coat

Something We Found in the Alley One Day
It was a normal day,
a what-do-you-want-to-do
day,
We had seen all the movies
and played all our games
we were looking for something new.
The backyard?
We had memorized. We knew
each nook, each flower, every tree-
No, the backyard had been done.
We looked farther- that empty dirt lot
behind the house, with only it’s empty pit
and lonely acacia tree?
That we knew too, we’d been there before-
Pirates, you see, seeking treasure in the sand.
We tried once more, and looked beyond
the boundaries of our past explorations.
And oh! What we found-what we found indeed
An adventure awaiting our arrival.
For there, tucked between the old, rusty fences
was an alley.
And, my, what an alley!

Forward we went!
Two brave explorers,
in search of a new story
Many terrors we encountered,
and beast we fought- a carniverous plant,
covered in foot-long spines, and a vicous
barking tiger
(most conveniantly restrained by a wire fence)
were not the least of our foes.
But forward we pushed,
our hearts always strong, and our minds fixed-
fixed on that one goal.

At last we found it,
our ultimate treasure,
our holy grail-
A fortress for our imaginations:

A tin palace on wheels, creepers creeping
through it’s cracked, grimy windows.
Some called a old rusty trailer- we called it
Fortress of the Queensnakes
a rather more exciting name
don’t you think?

And so it became just that –
our fortress, and there we went
and there no one found us
we were safe in endless possibilites
of our imaginations.

OK, I just wrote that of the top of my head. I’m not very good at free verse, but there ya go. It was fun!

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Axa

in May 6th, 2006 @ 00:17

-squeals- Oooh I love this thread. It’s so ARTSY.-hugs it-
Thay was exceptional Nancy. I The analogy throughout was humorous.

I’m planning on submitting something for my 8th grade promotion ceremony. They’ll publish it in the flyer. A bit of feedback would be appreciated. ^^ I never know how good my own poems are…
—— – – – – – – – Moving On
Endless
(This is not a real word)
Nothing is endless
Nothing -or so it’s said- is lasting

But- but
One should point out
That memory certainly is
And so take the time
At some time
For a time
To remember

Soft days
Clipped grass and a
watery blue sky
Think on it

Clouded afternoons
Forboding feelings and perhaps
A little uncertainty
Laugh at it

Storms too-
Hurricanes, more like
Too much feeling and malcontent
For one to stand
Don’t dwell on it

Last days
Rain and sun
Together, quite content
Remember it

It’s fine
I think
To move on
But you don’t have to
Forget

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247

The Skipper Nancy

in May 6th, 2006 @ 11:35

Nice message, Axa! It’s certainly fitting for and 8th grade promotion.
Hmmmm… I would just say, that it helps to add a bit a meter here and there, or some ryming. Not the whole thing, but if you could have just one or two lines that have that, it gives ti more of an effect. Like, try maybe, the 1st and last verses.

But I like it muchly, especially the 3rd and 4th verses.

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0
248

Purple Panda

in May 6th, 2006 @ 12:15

I think a meter would help, but not necessarily rhyming. Changing the words to make them rhyme only works if you REALLY know what you’re doing (did you see my “rhyming” poems above? I have no idea what I’m doing)!!

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0
249

Axa

in May 6th, 2006 @ 15:52

Hmm, you’re right. I was thinking I might ned to tone down the free verse. xD Thanks for the input! And your poems are to good Panda!

0
0
250

Purple Panda

in May 6th, 2006 @ 21:01

*cough, cough, hack, hack*

the ones that are long (sailing, dad’s shortcut) I think are good, because I actually thought about them, but the short rhyming ones………………
(example:
There was a horse
that was hoarse
so he went off course)

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0
251

100% cotton

in May 6th, 2006 @ 21:56

i like the last stanza particlarly much Axa! Nice!

celebrate life
as rain sizzles across ecstatic skin
livid images blossom over
his black galoshes
weeds in the rythm

0
0
252

100% cotton

in May 7th, 2006 @ 12:14

I throw America in a cocktail and you think it’s paradise.

0
0
253

HRH Julietaini; Queenie; Juliette; WDNT

in May 7th, 2006 @ 12:34

246-I like it. You might want to make the lines a little longer-it’s poetic, but slightly choppy. Otherwise, the mood is just perfect.

252-I throw America in a Molotov cocktail and you can’t think.

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0
254

Purple Panda

in May 7th, 2006 @ 13:54

One Inch Tall

If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you’d walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You’d swing upon a spider’s thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You’d surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn’t hug your mama, you’d just have to hug her thumb.
You’d run from people’s feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write–
‘Cause I’m just one inch tall).

Shel Silverstein

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255

The Skipper Nancy

in May 7th, 2006 @ 23:57

Hee hee. I love Silverstein.

The world is full of opinions
It’s certainly true,
there’s more than a few
In fact, I wonder that there’s room for anything else.

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256

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

in May 8th, 2006 @ 00:40

This thread is getting a little long and a little hard to find, so I’m closing it off and starting “Poems and Songs, v. 2006.2.” Look for it!

Thanks for all the poems and songs.

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King George the MMMXXLIII

King George the MMMXXLIII

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

King George the MMMXXLIII

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

King George the MMMXXLIII

MontgomeryGurl

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

MontgomeryGurl

Duncan_Quagmire

BlackRaven

frankenfaerie

Violetfire

Sphinx

frankenfaerie

Darth Yoda

King George the MMMXXLIII

frankenfaerie

emogrl

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

emogrl

frankenfaerie aka frankfurter

Trillian of Rhodes

Trillian of Rhodes

frankenfaerie

BlackRaven

BlackRaven

BlackRaven

BlackRaven

emogrl

Axa

Darth Yoda

Violetfire

evildude131

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

Robert Coontz (Administrator)

Darth Yoda

frankenfaerie

evildude131

Trillian of Rhodes

Sphinx

frankenfaerie

Queen Julietaini or Queenie (J), and Alternate Selves Rhonda, Stig, and Ikol

emogrl

Axa

Mer

Mer

BlackRaven

Axa

Trillian of Rhodes

BlackRaven

BlackRaven

Aleu_roleplayer

Aleu_roleplayer

Aleu_roleplayer

Aleu_roleplayer

embrace_your_poison

frankenfaerie

frankenfaerie

dark lord of darkness

Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J)

embrace_your_poison aka Lyra

Violetfire

frankenfaerie

Queen Julietaini; Queenie (J)

emogrl

penguini

kricket

embrace_your_poison aka Lyra

BlackRaven