After seeing a thread for songwriters on here, I thought I'd add one for poets. Anyone got something written down they'd care to share, or get some feedback on, or simply drop all over our faces like an unexpected rain squall?
~eager to see what people are writing that isn't prose~
i've wrote a fair few poems in my time, two actually got published. the most recent one was about world war one as part of my history course. One of the few that got put on the wall
well i've wrote a fair bit of poetry in my time. Two have been published. The last one I wrote was probably my best piece to date. I had to write it as part of my history course last year
argh, frekkin double post, sorry
Not a poetry guy... Dont know why i bothered to post that...
http://phoenix-heart.deviantart.com/art/LIES-145413509
thats the link to my most recent piece. Make of it what you will
It's always good to write - keep at it, and at it, and at it. Poetry has a bad reputation, but stay past it, and don't grow your fringe past your mouth and it's all okay. : )
I read it more than I write it, but it's fun in a very different way to writing prose. Less work, but more challenging at the same time.
>>6 It paints a very vivid picture. congrats. what does this line mean though ?
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
Heh, this sent me diving through my old poems :D They're mostly open poems, kinda half prose, mostly emo-tastic (this was a while ago), but I'll post a link to my DevArt because they're all on there. Along with some CRAP art.
http://eyeeyeyzrol.deviantart.com/
Shell Shock is good. Lol.
LOL ... Likes...llamas :D
@10 - Who doesn't like llamas? :P
something along the lines of 'it is good and proper to die for your country'
i write poetry now and then :) check out my stuff here:
http://nadinerater.deviantart.com/gallery/#Poetry
I like writing poems. Sometimes, its better to get your oppinion or feelings out to an audience by writing a poem rather than ten paragraphs about how you feel. if you read a poem, you might feel more emotional than a diary entry.
I wrote a poem about a bird once coz i felt that i wasn't able to show the world my talent. i keep on failing at writing competitions and drama, basicly the things i like to do. (well, all of us cant win writing competitions). but anyway, the poem... it didn't take long to write. i was quite emotional when i wrote it. and whenever anyone reads it, they tend to feel emotional. (I'm not just saying this.)
the point is that it is easier to write about your emotions in a poem than a story or a few paragraphs.
p.s. sorry if i sound spoilt or angry in this reply thing. i don't mean to.
I writes stories, songs, and poetry. I have written several poems, but they're pure crap. :)
I writes stories, songs, and poetry. I have written several poems, but they're pure crap. :)
Sorry for double posting. Slow laptop, not always sure if it's gone through or not. Besides, at Nadine- good stuff!
I was born before I can remember
And I’ll be young before I die
And these fleeting ignorant seconds
Will precisely pass me by
But every step and every footprint
Every fingerprint and hair
Will leave a wake behind me
When I’m gone I’ll still be there
As you can see, I dabble.
Nice. You got a profile to link to, or do you choose not to share that with the gibbering hordes of this site?
Haiku:
Like ice, clawing cold,
My heart shatters with a scream,
An absent PM.
Oh, the woe.
(feels intensely guilty and scuttles back to his Politics essay).
Heheheheheh...
is slightly pacified
Thanks Dance with the Devil. I just like poetry, so I write it.
I won't be giving up on my day job any time soon though.
The Sad One
I see the graves of seven lovers
Only one who knew me well
Only two who knew my heart
And four more lie with lies to tell
Seven days I walked the earth
To find a stream with seven stones
With each one safely in my palm
I turn to face the dawn alone
A buried love is love that’s lost
To where no soul can find
For no man wants a widower
When mourning stalks her mind
The seasons pass like sand
And soon my hourglass shall cease
The seven souls of seven joys
Will greet my sweet release
The Happy One
When I was young and pleasant
And my laces were never done
I used to water flowers in the garden
One by one
Birds twittered and ants skittered
And tree boughs gently swayed
I sat down on my granddad’s swing
To watch natures serenade
One thing that I should mention
Oh how I have digressed
Never take the left path
And disturb the hornets’ nest
Thanks Dance with the Devil. I just like poetry, so I write it.
I won't be giving up on my day job any time soon though.
The Sad One
I see the graves of seven lovers
Only one who knew me well
Only two who knew my heart
And four more lie with lies to tell
Seven days I walked the earth
To find a stream with seven stones
With each one safely in my palm
I turn to face the dawn alone
A buried love is love that’s lost
To where no soul can find
For no man wants a widower
When mourning stalks her mind
The seasons pass like sand
And soon my hourglass shall cease
The seven souls of seven joys
Will greet my sweet release
The Happy One
When I was young and pleasant
And my laces were never done
I used to water flowers in the garden
One by one
Birds twittered and ants skittered
And tree boughs gently swayed
I sat down on my granddad’s swing
To watch natures serenade
One thing that I should mention
Oh how I have digressed
Never take the left path
And disturb the hornets’ nest
The One That Is Completely Unaware Of Current Affairs (also titled: 'I long to use this in answer to every moronic post')
My friend, do you live in a cave?
Or perhaps you live under the sea,
Coasting on a candyfloss wave?
Or even up a fifty-foot tree?
My friend, when you open your eyes,
Do tell of what you chance to see,
But for now, while you question no lies,
Please don't bother fighting with me.
New one. I would be interested to see people's interpretations. Unless you KNOW what it means, in which case don't spoil it yet.
'Long ago, in years of old,
A tale of misery was told,
Of trust betrayed and true heartbreak
And final sleep from which none wake.
A child, whom we shall name Sespille,
Was wandering in forest teal,
Blue light reflecting bluer heart
As, underfoot, insects did dart.
Sespille was most alone, 'tis true;
From sleep and education flew
To roam the forest we shall name
'Noit Kif Naf'; the very same
Forest in which Sespille had found
Not in a bush, or on the ground,
But elsewhere did the young child see
A winged serpent! Why, up a tree!
The serpent did the talk to s/he
Of things like pursuits scholarly
And aspirations to create
No smoking crater and no hate.
Sespille did most enjoy this talk
And so for hours and hours would walk
Through Noit Kif Naf, and there contact,
The winged serpent of peace and tact...
... But oh, this tale does not end well,
For history does surely tell-
Politics tore the pair apart
And plunged a knife through Sespille's heart!
And thus, we come to end our tale
Of thwarted joy- and so we wail,
'"Oh, poor Sespille, and wicked snake,
That drove Sespille to drown in lake!"'
@ ... – As I’ve got no idea if I’ve got your right meaning or not, please do tell me if any of my observations about that poem are remotely correct. Now, it’s been a while since I've tried literary analysis. Let me put on my specs and have a go.
There could really be a lot of ways to interpret that, if you read enough into it. Which the most obvious metaphors being a story of either lost love or disenchantment, Sespille could represent a person, group of people or state of mind which is completely innocent, and inherently naive. Due to this naivety, they are influenced by the serpent. The wings on the serpent would seem to suggest things is being that can cross wide areas, so it could represent a promiscuous lover, a far reaching peer pressure point or even mass media propaganda that Sespille believes in.
Due to the inclusion of the line 'no smoking crater and no hate' I would be inclined to suggest that what Sespille believes is something political, which is supported by the use of the word ‘politics’ in the seventh stanza, so I think Sespilles’ belief in the media is what is being referred to.
The ending, where Sespille is betrayed seems to commit suicide could have multiple meanings and is probably the thing most open to interpretation, as it is never explicitly stated what his/her fate is, whilst it is heavily implied.
The simplest interpretation is simply that Sespille found out there is more to the world he lives in then what he/she is told, and that he/she can't accept that, or feels unhappy about it, committing suicide to escape from the lies. Another way of looking at it is that in Sespilles' 'scholarly pursuit' he/she has come up with something worse than 'smoking craters' and has been done away with by the serpent after no longer being useful, another betrayal.
Of course, what happens to Sespille in the end can simply be viewed as a transition from innocence to experience. Death in a literary sense doesn't have to be the end of life, but just the end of a chapter in life, a change in philosophy or way of thinking. As a human betrayed by something, the drowning of Sespille could simply be the end of the transition between two ways of life, one being led by lies and the new being something Sespille has to find by his/herself, which could be an allegory for the lake, it in itself a dark mysterious place.
That’s my thoughts on it. Like I said, do tell me if I managed to get anything remotely similar to your intentions.
Firstly, apologies for only just noticing that you'd posted this. And secondly, I'm afraid you interpreted it in the way I was expecting, which is definitely not what it means. The whole thing is a mix of red-herrings and coded references. It is also a very silly poem.
Clues!
If it had a title, 'twould be 'All-consuming Guilt'.
Indeed. Well, I had a stab at it, and am suitably ashamed of my mediocre performance.
I hope others will do better than I, or at least be put on a different track by my failure.
We had to imagine we were in the mind of a random person for English, I chose a five-year-old boy and it's on the wall I'm so proud, well here it is:
~
A strip of sky,
Where aeroplanes fly,
ZOOOM!
A cotton wool sheep,
on a grassy heap,
BAAAA!
Rain splashes on my hood,
As I jump in the mud,
SQUELCH!
Monsters under the bed,
Waiting to eat my head,
RAAAA!
~
Ahh, how I'd love to be five again, the innocence of youth...
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right.
By these we reach divinity.
Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly,
Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire and child and happy mother
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'thou single wilt prove none.'
shakespeare and donne if anyone was wondering who thoses last posts where
Nice originality.
>>6 - were you perchance inspired by the actual Poem, 'Dulce et Decorum est' ?, it's very good btw, I like it.
@'...'
'Noit Kif Naf' - I'm assuming that is not any coincidence that when reversed this spells 'fanfiktion'?
Of course...I could be entirely wrong. But that caught my eye straight away, and also made me laugh.
@Rayray- Possibly... (Have we a breakthrough? I believe we have a breakthrough!)
I like to think of myself as a bit of a poet, though my main love of writing lies in television. Still, this is my latest. I wrote it for a project on 'What's On My Mind' for English coursework, and it's dedicated to my girlfriend.
In love with.
I’m in love with tragic endings,
Vintage shoes,
Black lace,
Love songs,
Secret-smiles,
Strangers on buses,
Guitar, flute and strings,
Unfettered melodies,
Whispered greetings and
Silent goodbyes.
~
I have nothing more to say, except what's overdone and inevitable:
I’m in love with
You.
By the way, that was by me ^^
The computer somehow forgot my name...
@...
I'm not going to even attempt to descrive what I think you're talking about, I'll just mention that you seem to be talking about the overly clichéd plots that are used in fanfiction?
I can't remember what I initially though, but that is, to my best recollection, what I thought of.
@Rayray- Slightly closer, but no cigar.
New poem! I call this: 'Azazel, why?'
'Thou art the cruellest of all foes,
With sharpened, sparkly, crystal toes.
Crumbleth all others at my might,
But never thou, o' monstrous sight.
Azazel, WHY?!!'
Sequel to 'Azazel, Why?'. I call it, 'Azazel, Ha!':
'Last night I did your mother;
She squealed and begged for more-
Just like your little sister,
Each night the week before.'
And 'Azazel, FAIL':
'It is impossible to destroy thee,
Until divine providence doth favour me,
And then you're DEAD and FAIL, bubby.'
'Azazel Haiku':
'Take up Tae Kwon Do-
Oh, what the hell is this mess?
Baek's the best guy here!'
Seriously, this is BAEK. You cannot nix Baek. He can KICK.
I still haven't got over Jun, Alex, P. Jack, Kunimitsu, Devil/Angel, Michelle, and Nina's sash...
... Or the T2 soundtrack...
Baek is the only thing that gives the series a meaning now, you pitiable fools.
Gah.
>>41 a bit yeah, it was for a history assignment
'Hostage'
Savage,
Stranger,
Invador of my thoughts.
Unknown man,
Intorder,
Taker of my heart.
Who are you,
Who do you have,
My heart as a hostage?
What will it take,
To get it back,
Without it getting hurt?
Love,
Trust,
Two big things.
Two big things,
That scares me,
I dont want to get hurt.
But I will try,
Try to love you,
Try to trust you.
But promise me,
Just one thing,
Dont hurt my heart.
'Explosion'
Explosions,
everywhere,
Destorying my world.
Confusion,
In my mind,
Obscuring my view.
My thoughts,
Jumbled into one,
My mind a mess.
What does it mean,
When I close my eyes,
And your face is the one I see.
More explosions,
My mind a mess,
Destorying itself.
Your face,
The only thing I see,
Clearly.
"What is
An 'intorder'?"
I ask,
Inserting
Random
Line-breaks
To give the mundane
Meaning
And the pseudo-sagacious
Impact.
I'm guessing you didn't like the poems? That's just my writing style.. Sorry you don't understand that everyone has their own way of writing. And I'm sorry for the spelling mistakes, not everyone has perfect spelling.
Proofread, then.
I did proofread. Didn't catch that. Not perfect here! Duh.
Copypasta your poem into Word. Find the squiggly red lines, and adjust your spellings accordingly. If you don't have Word, use another program with spellcheck. If you don't post from a computer, google spellings you're unsure of, or even use a dictionary. Of course nobody's spelling is perfect; that does not mean that it is impossible to improve it.
Why thank you, Dux. Parody poems are the only kind I dare write, so I'm glad to hear they have the desired effect.
... Although maybe I went wrong by using a line break as it's supposed to be used... hmmm...
@ 28: I'm probably talking a load of rubbish, but this is how I see it.
Sespille represents amateur fanfiction writers with potential but flaws and the serpent is a critic. At first Sespille seems fairly happy to have someone advising him/her on how to improve, but Sespille feels betrayed when the serpent continues to criticise his/her work. Much like fanfic authors who ask for constructive criticism, but when they receive any take it badly.
Though I suppose taking a second look, it's not necessarily about a bad writer who takes offence at criticism. In fact it seems more likely that Sespille is fairly talented as s/he enjoys talking to the serpent about 'pursuits scholarly'. Perhaps it's more about the nature of fandom communities in general, about how friendships can form quickly in fandom, but can just as easily be destroyed by a division of opinion and develop into over the top feuding.
Irishman, Irishman, why must you shout
Outside my window, so horribly loud?
It's 4am and you should be asleep
Tucked up in bed and not making a peep.
Instead, you've been yelling for nearly two hours,
With voice reminiscent of something that scours,
Or maybe a chainsaw. I don't care. Just STFU. You've already ruined the rhythm in the third couplet.
I write short-stories, novels, muli-chap and off course poetry.
Most of my poetry is uploaded on fictionpress.net
If anyone would like to check Nanashi under fan-to-fiction I'd be grateful.
Of my pen, a poem most parodic was born;
Now 'twixt these emotional states I am torn:
Irritation, depression and amusement, three,
For my friend suggested a thesaurus to me
(It appears that too subtle was my parody).
~betwixt
... I shouldn't dash poems off at this hour; I screw up the metre.
...'s ranty-poems make me think there should be a meme to write a short poem or haiku about something that's annoying you right now. Here are my pathetic attempts:
Some like to think and others to grow,
Some about life and delights to follow,
Some will falter and some will wallow,
But mine does nothing, my head is too hollow.
*
I wish you'd sleep like a normal cat.
Your legs spread wide and your head right back.
Your mouth slightly open and ears all flat,
My folded clothes right beneath where you're sat.
I'd try and move you but I'd meet with your claws,
And I try to avoid involvement in wars.
I'll have to repeat that menial chore,
And next time I'll leave them where they belong in the drawer.
Really lame and quickly done but... meh. Fun topic, though.
'Go not into Elysia, my friend;
The grasping claws shall rend thy fragile soul!'
So were the words the shaking voice did send,
but all in vain; a bell started to toll,
A spirit screamed in pitiful despair,
For I could not resist (though try I did)
At treasures all around, to stop and stare,
And now I owe my good friend twenty quid.
Haiku:
Alternative clothes-
With washing label, for once!
Goodness gracious me.
Ode to Dux
Dearest Dux,
When things sux:
Strange fight and sad fight,
Twilight or Midnight;
Best not to take flight-
Read a poem.