NationStates Jolt Archive

Just asking cause I wrote one today... I was a bit bored at work and chatted about "The Lord of the Rings" with a friend. The poem just surfaced, line by line....


Eowyn

Beautiful, peerless
Proud and so fearless
Lady of Rohan
Forever you'll go on
Fiercely protecting
Your kin and your king.
Tears in your heart
You stand at his guard
Facing the horror
Shaking in terror
You slay the black foe,
Fulfilling your vow.
Free in the end
Soul no longer hemmed
You're greeting your death,
The cold and dark rest
The escape from your bonds,
Joyfull with open arms.

You embrace the shadow,
You fall and you flow.
The witch king is falling,
Your brother is calling
Your name, you can’t hear him
Your soul’s nowhere near him
But drifting away -
Your last, final day.


Oh Lady of Rohan
The darkness is cold
But whatever it holds
Is a blessing to you,
So lonely and true,
Your bonds fin’lly broken
Your freedom has woken
You found your escape,
The night without wake



Any other literary gems out there waiting to be discovered?

i've written loads. My fav is:

LIVE FOR LIFE

You lead the purge of lusty fierce wanting
I lead the instinct for life

Your rope tasting the pitfall of life
As the sacrifice clear convert
The drawl of instinct
For love

Always clear for the girl
The lusty madcap instinct for love in the boy.

i've written loads. My fav is:

LIVE FOR LIFE

You lead the purge of lusty fierce wanting
I lead the instinct for life

Your rope tasting the pitfall of life
As the sacrifice clear convert
The drawl of instinct
For love

Always clear for the girl
The lusty madcap instinct for love in the boy.

Wow... that's really beautiful and deep. Suddenly I feel a bit small about mine...

it took me 5 mins and it was made out of random words that i heard in those 5mins and rearranged them till they kinda made sense.

I think both of your poems are very nice, and make mine look medeocre (sp), heh

lovers lament

the colours change, the leaves they fall
leaving the trees naked and dull
the bright blue sky quick turns to grey
for not can keep my plight at bay
i try to dream, i cannot wake
for then my soul begins to break
it burns with fire, deep down inside
consuming where love and hope abide

while lying in this unlit night
i hear a sound, the voice of right
i turn to look, i see you there
divine and pure, i breathe fresh air
your glance, your smile, they pull me through
i feel reborn, refreshed and new
in my moment of bleakest despair
you came to me, and helped repair

the clouds around, they move away
a light comes down, in that you stay
so close to touch, but yet so far
toying with me, that you are
i wait all night, I wait all day
i wait forever to hear you say
those simple words i long to hear
whispered softly within my ear

wow. that's amazing!!!

I am a writer of truly deep poetry that challenges our very perception of the human condition. Behold:


MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR TOAST

Make the most,
Of your toast;
It will not last for long.
And drink your tea,
With equal glee,
And then we’ll get along.
Don’t eat that fast,
But make it last,
You stupid fat disgrace.
No, not like that,
You silly twat,
Or else I’ll cut your face.

I am a writer of truly deep poetry that challenges our very perception of the human condition. Behold:


MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR TOAST

Make the most,
Of your toast;
It will not last for long.
And drink your tea,
With equal glee,
And then we’ll get along.
Don’t eat that fast,
But make it last,
You stupid fat disgrace.
No, not like that,
You silly twat,
Or else I’ll cut your face.


very good.

I am a writer of truly deep poetry that challenges our very perception of the human condition. Behold:


MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR TOAST

Make the most,
Of your toast;
It will not last for long.
And drink your tea,
With equal glee,
And then we’ll get along.
Don’t eat that fast,
But make it last,
You stupid fat disgrace.
No, not like that,
You silly twat,
Or else I’ll cut your face.

I like it. That's poetry you can use in everyday situations
:p

I wrote a few haiku for everyday usage... but my poetry mostly sucks, my short stories are much better! ;)

I wrote a few haiku for everyday usage... but my poetry mostly sucks, my short stories are much better! ;)

I only wrote one... but that's way to long for the forum and it's in German anyway.

I've written at least 50, but most of them I threw out, or they got whiped from my hard drive when that virus came crashing down... :(

Yah well, my stuff is mostly German, too.

Except a few haiku which were written for friends from someplace else, so they were in English, of course.

Yah well, my stuff is mostly German, too.

Except a few haiku which were written for friends from someplace else, so they were in English, of course.

And you don't want to share those?

I've written a number of things, including prose poetry, though I tend to be very,very shy about showing it to others, though I've been told it's incredibly good. *Shrugs* I tend to write best when I'm feeling a particularly strong emotion, though it never turns out as the stereotypical teen emo stuff.

I tend to write best when I'm feeling a particularly strong emotion.

I write the same here...usually when i have an idea for a poem, it comes from a strong emotional experience i have recently have, and reflects my emotions at teh time.

For example, here's one i wrote earlier this afternoon, after a depressing conversation with this girl with whom i was interested in going out with, and she expressed no interest in me.

walk in the dark

take some time, walk alone
into the night, time to think.
friends abound, but to turn to
i cannot.
thoughts i have, of depression, anger
of these friends, i think of often.
think things through, time alone i need,
to sort out the conflicting emotions
ravaging my heart and thoughts.
anger boils deep inside,
along side hatred, and an envy
of he who stole your heart
walking alone, like a drifter
in the dark
contemplation of life,
i think of you.
and one question comes to mind:
Why?

No.

(Incidentally, I recently had all the poets in my country executed)

I've written a number of things, including prose poetry, though I tend to be very,very shy about showing it to others, though I've been told it's incredibly good. *Shrugs* I tend to write best when I'm feeling a particularly strong emotion, though it never turns out as the stereotypical teen emo stuff.

C'mon... that thing I posted there is no masterpiece either, give us an example of what you can write :)

Just asking cause I wrote one today... I was a bit bored at work and chatted about "The Lord of the Rings" with a friend. The poem just surfaced, line by line....

Eowyn

Beautiful, peerless
Proud and so fearless
Lady of Rohan
Forever you'll go on
Fiercely protecting
Your kin and your king.
Tears in your heart
You stand at his guard
Facing the horror
Shaking in terror
You slay the black foe,
Fulfilling your vow.
Free in the end
Soul no longer hemmed
You're greeting your death,
The cold and dark rest
The escape from your bonds,
Joyfull with open arms.

You embrace the shadow,
You fall and you flow.
The witch king is falling,
Your brother is calling
Your name, you can’t hear him
Your soul’s nowhere near him
But drifting away -
Your last, final day.


Oh Lady of Rohan
The darkness is cold
But whatever it holds
Is a blessing to you,
So lonely and true,
Your bonds fin’lly broken
Your freedom has woken
You found your escape,
The night without wake

Any other literary gems out there waiting to be discovered?

cool :)
it reminds me of one of my own

(but this one first cos the other one is unfinished)

In the land of Elendale


Once upon a time
in a land of old,
an ancient story
– a tale was told,
of a young boy
who lived by the sword;
honour and valour his virtues,
the truth his word.
An orphan by three,
no land to live by
he set on a quest
to make those die
who had slain his parents
in the land of Elendale.


Brought up by bears
and raised as one
he had no worldly cares
but to see his quest done;
this is all he wished.
To rid the land of the evil foe
and to avenge his parents death,
this and this alone did he know;
for it is written in folklore:
to kill the tyrant and evil Lord,
a strike to his heart must go,
handle deep must be the sword,
and the bearer must be
he, who an orphan by three,
had his parents wrongly slain,
such is it written
in he land of Elendale.


Upon his travels he met a mage
whose wisdom told him this truth:
“you must hasten the pace of the story,” said the mage
“if you are to fit it on only one page.”
The boy met many more peoples on his way,
and folded them to his company;
under his banner they did stay,
and the boy became a man.
Travelling the lands by day,
sleep and make merry at night;
His enemies, seeing the banner unfurl
would feel dismay and fright,
regardless of their numbers or strength
they would flee rather than fight.
One by one the evil flew
in the land of Elendale.


Many years went past
and an evil curse was cast
on the man from Elendale.
Fell deadly ill he did,
and his body turned nightshade blue,
but no evil could break friends apart,
and his company did stay true.
They sought the enemy sorcerer
and whence they found her, her body they did slew
and the mage reversed the curse
until all was well again
in the land of Elendale.

And the final chapter endeth thus:
a great battlefield, the air thick with dust;
One side, the enemy, the other
the army of the man from Elendale.
Facing such great a foe,
his men – they began to quail.
But giving them strength this they did know:
their courage and strength came not from the sword or chain-mail,
but from the power and honour of friendship;
regardless of race, creed, colour or kinship,
the enemy would never win if this they kept true.


In the land of Elendale, when the dust settled,
and the sun sank in the sky, and the field,
stained blood-red receded into darkness
and out of living memory,
the boy from Elendale
was revenged and vindicated.
They may all be dead now,
but their friendships and actions
live on in this tale,
far away from the land of Elendale.


November 2002.


and this one. the name is pronounced Ahren-made, btw (people have asked before)

Aaerenmade

In the land of old,
Where ancient stories are told,
And dreams are as clear as day,
The young King rode forth ere so proud
From his castle gleaming white they say.
Set on the most noble steed
With ten knights of his realm,
He set forth to do this deed
That fate had befallen him.
To destroy the dragon
That beset his realm
And end the mindless slaughter,
Yea after the evil had reached the King,
And slain his only daughter.
Fair Aaerenmade was her name,
And lore tells of her beauty,
Such that for a man to see her,
‘Ere after he would never be the same.
In her memory and to greet revenge
The King now rode with his men
Across a thousand leagues of land
Towards the fiery dragon’s den.
Pitching fire versus steel,
And scale against armour,
Perhaps to their deaths they rode;
But nonetheless steeped in valour,
And in history books well they bode.

Many an adventure they did have
In their perilous journey,
Many a danger’ed damsel they did save,
The brave Knights in battered armour
Riding ere closer to the dragon’s cave…


but there are plenty of bits in that i don't like :(

C'mon... that thing I posted there is no masterpiece either, give us an example of what you can write :)
Lol..didn't mean to seem like I was knockin' your poem, but..gah..I'll post something..great..I'm blushing already. *Shakes fist* First!I've to make dinner. lol

Crystalline Refraction Thursday, May 19, 2005

I remember love's first delicate, tentative, curious kiss, the sweet
embrace of a lover's arms, entwined 'round my waist, as I beheld the
sharp, intelligent, love and beauty within her eyes. The comforting
warmth of the body, the soothing presence of her promixity, a salve
upon my ancient wounds. How well do I remember! Love, in all its
glorious details, I shan't n'er forget. The fragrant scent of her
body, wafting gently, an unseen whisp of delectible aroma, carrying
through the air. The gentle gestures which she, blessedly, granted
me, bespoke, beyond mere words, her love.

I tend to be my own worst critic, but I feel it's one of my good ones.

Make The Most Of Your Toast is brilliant. Here's my offering:

Paper Heroes

Midnight sprays justice hisses:
The sound of open revolt,
A working class hero's bedroom,
Pen hits paper like a striking match,
The darkroom ignites; a burning brush,
The colours of discontent.

Marx rests in pieces,
Shards of knuckle bones,
Lie dormant in newspaper guns.
These are freedom chords you'll never hear,
Minute men drown out silent screaming,
The stench of death.

Don't you dare disturb,
This shameless process,
Out of hours; destroying childhood,
Black moisture handprints; blood red walls,
Plot sickens from a poison ration,
The heir of madness.

Alright, I only found two silly ones... the rest must be somewhere else. But as I said my stories are better...^^

m0o, what does it mean
Mothers Opposing Occult
Watch Buffy, find truth

Hadean Drive Yards
One year anniversary
Reason to party

Yes, I know that they'ee not really haikus, as the seasonal element is missing and whatever else. I already told you they were silly. :P Plus they're about EvE Online. m0o was (and still is, I think) one of the most nototrious pirate groups, Stavr0s (or as I called him: K0jak's bro) was their boss back then.
The Hadean Drive Yards were the corporation I was working for (in EvE).

I could post my most recent short story... but I'd have to translate it first, I guess.

I have written about 70 poems. But, other than about twenty hard copies of poems, all of them are on my hardrive back in the US.

I do find it very difficult to take poetry seriously. Especially the whiney, angsty, self-indulgent drivel that teenagers produce.

I've written one poem... and some tortureous Haiku :D

The closest I've ever been to poetry was in the political haiku's thread some time back. :)

Personally, I hate haikus. I don't like the rhymic pattern of them/their structure. Then again, I'm not too fond of being confined to a specific structure of writing.

Yes, I have written poetry-not just for school assignments. In fact, a while back, I had a writing thread with several pages. Unfortunately, I lost track of it. :(

Creative writing is one of the areas I excel. I don't really have anything to share right now, though.

heh. poetry. welcome to my life. not even joking. i'm an obsessive writer. please read "so you want to be a writer" by charles bukowski, because it is my mantra. but something by me...


Namaste, World, It's Morning

the story of how sleep turns into magnet velvet, the taste
unlicked but still resonating in your joints as you
wake – the bird perched on the flaking sill quietly
separating you and your liquidsmoothdream like
the skin off quickly chilled pudding, glue off
your dry fingers. flickering consciousness and
recognition: it is day, “goodmorning child”. is this
bitable, tangible reality or just the caught-between-
sleep-dream-wake?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .your dream tagging behind,
a ghost that you can almost touch, but fades when
held - (remember when God was the ghost? hunched
over your typewriter, did you really expect God, or
whatevergodreallyis to
be on the cover of [i]Time? the leaves of 17? o mores, o tempora)
- your hand penetrates the apparition and it’s gone.
So hug your legs into your chest as you notice the bird,
its talons (I don’t understand a word you say) scraping
chipping paint away from the sill as you rise from your

bed: you’ve pulled the magnets apart.




ps - disregard the periods before that second stanza - i couldn't make the formatting work

I'm not really poetically inclined.
I've tried, but it usually devolved to something that's forced and pathetic. I have a lot of emotional stuff to vent out for sure, but I can't quite jot it down.

There's also the fact that putting things down like that makes me feel quite pathetic...

urgh.


I do like "The Hunting of the Snark" By Lewis Carroll at the moment. the best lines are in my signature at the moment.


Damnit, now I do want to write.
Damn you, original poster.

I'm not really poetically inclined.
I've tried, but it usually devolved to something that's forced and pathetic. I have a lot of emotional stuff to vent out for sure, but I can't quite jot it down.

There's also the fact that putting things down like that makes me feel quite pathetic...

urgh.

Damnit, now I do want to write.
Damn you, original poster.

there's something that needs to be addressed. do not force yourself to write
if you have to write, it will push it's way out of you and tear you apart if you don't do it.

and that makes it neccisary for me to post this poem by Charles Bukowski, not me by any means. he's mindblowing.



so you want to be a writer?

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in
you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.




everyone, PLEASE READ THAT. that's the poem that changed my life. please read it. damn, i may just have to post another thread with it just so that people read it.

hooray bukowski

I write a ton of poetry, although my specialty is short teen novels.... I have written about 4 of those.... but unfortunetly everything is packed away at the moment or I would share one with ya'll... I have actually had one of my poems published in a book. I really like all the poems posted here :-D

BACK TO BACK

When sifting through the sands of time,
those which make my life,
I recall the Warrior Princess
I helped defend through strife.

A lifelong warrior I had been,
and bore the scars to prove,
the value of my noble cause,
the mountains I did move.

I fought for kings and princes,
with others brave and true,
yet this young warrior princess,
caused heart to rise anew.

Surpassing beauty she did have,
from many wounds had bled,
yet spirit never broken,
held high her noble head.

Not a word was spoken,
as I now drew my sword;
stood there with her back to back,
'gainst evil demon horde.

We hacked them down both left and right,
and wounded though we be,
we never did surrender,
determined to be free!

And with the battle ended,
I knelt upon one knee,
and accepted there the great reward
my Lady gave to me.

Her smile, her glance, her gentle voice,
her hand upon my brow;
informed me of her deepest trust,
that I had earned it now.

The sands of time run from my hand,
the grains are fewer now;
still does her loving smile for me
chase worry from my brow.

Yet should she bid me take my sword,
stand back to back again,
gladly would my heart renew,
her beauty to defend.

Mock not the aging warrior,
for ready to attack,
is Beauty in her terrible glory,
standing with him back to back.

Copyright, 2005, Forrest Lee Horn, Sr.

I've written some, but not in a while. I don't have any on hand at the moment, fortunately or unfortunately.

Yes, I know that they'ee not really haikus, as the seasonal element is missing and whatever else. I already told you they were silly. :P

FYI, call them senryu (http://members.tripod.com/~Startag/HkSenDiff.html). :D

Apparently I was funny once, in the thread where the new Pope had condemned the Harry Potter books.

If Potter's evil, then I'll know
Because the Pope will tell me so
If Quiddich positions left and right
Then Inquisitions, day and night

Or something along those lines...

Apparently I was funny once, in the thread where the new Pope had condemned the Harry Potter books.

If Potter's evil, then I'll know
Because the Pope will tell me so
If Quiddich positions left and right
Then Inquisitions, day and night

Or something along those lines...
Heh! Not bad. Not bad! :)

there's something that needs to be addressed. do not force yourself to write
if you have to write, it will push it's way out of you and tear you apart if you don't do it.

and that makes it neccisary for me to post this poem by Charles Bukowski, not me by any means. he's mindblowing.

everyone, PLEASE READ THAT. that's the poem that changed my life. please read it. damn, i may just have to post another thread with it just so that people read it.

hooray bukowski
I read it. Not bad advice. I might add that it helps to fill yourself up first, but that might be quibbling. :)

I guess I like this one more, but it's still not great. But it does capture a lot of my angstyness. ;)

No Title

I’ve judged myself,
And found guilty again.
As I’ve promised
Not to perceive revenge.

For seconds I wait,
Somehow intrigued
By simple confidants
From out of my league.

Why not come down,
From your arid prison?
And embrace life,
With what you are given.

What defects, blight
Do my shoulders carry?
For their unsightly demeanor
Stands alone, and wary.

What solemn life dwells,
So simply to be called
Upon covered drapes,
Halting to a crawl.

Appearing hollow now,
nothing settled within.
Pardon them softly,
For they are forgiven.

I guess I like this one more, but it's still not great. But it does capture a lot of my angstyness. ;)

No Title

I’ve judged myself,
And found guilty again.
As I’ve promised
Not to perceive revenge.

For seconds I wait,
Somehow intrigued
By simple confidants
From out of my league.

Why not come down,
From your arid prison?
And embrace life,
With what you are given.

What defects, blight
Do my shoulders carry?
For their unsightly demeanor
Stands alone, and wary.

What solemn life dwells,
So simply to be called
Upon covered drapes,
Halting to a crawl.

Appearing hollow now,
nothing settled within.
Pardon them softly,
For they are forgiven.
Pretty durn good, IMHO. Ever read "The Hollow Men?" :)

In response to the topic at hand, no not really. HOWEVER its a coincidence, cuz I was just thinking about how hot that Lady of Rohan actress is. Not necessarily hot, in the burning hot sexpot sense. But well, she spent a lot of the time onscreen looking either sad, confused and/or afraid, and... I dunno, I dig that, sexually... :eek:

Pretty durn good, IMHO. Ever read "The Hollow Men?" :)

You bet your bangs and whimpers I have.

Err..... :eek:

You bet your bangs and whimpers I have.

Err..... :eek:
ROFLMAO!! Man, you ain't right! ;)

ROFLMAO!! Man, you ain't right! ;)

Heh. I'm 16, where else is my mind supposed to be?

In response to the topic at hand, no not really. HOWEVER its a coincidence, cuz I was just thinking about how hot that Lady of Rohan actress is. Not necessarily hot, in the burning hot sexpot sense. But well, she spent a lot of the time onscreen looking either sad, confused and/or afraid, and... I dunno, I dig that, sexually... :eek:

Pfft. Yeah, and yet Aragorn turned her down. What a pimp.

Heh. I'm 16, where else is my mind supposed to be?
Heh! I'm 62 and my mind is STILL there! :D

I used to write alot of poetry, for school mostly, but its in my old hard-drive(the one that I wiped and used for my bros computer I built for him)
I may have some printed though... Il look for em', but just for me. I dont like sharing them, and I hated when they made us say them in front of everyone at school. ramble...

Pfft. Yeah, and yet Aragorn turned her down. What a pimp.

Aragorn wanted the strong, 'perfect' woman type symbolized by the elf chick and her dominating physical command over her father and running bodies of water. He wasn't a pimp, he just had issues with his mother.

Aragorn wanted the strong, 'perfect' woman type symbolized by the elf chick and her dominating physical command over her father and running bodies of water. He wasn't a pimp, he just had issues with his mother.

That may be so. But shit, I wish I had two beautiful women fawning over me, and the power to turn one down.

:( Damn depression always has to kick in...

Yeah, but I mostly work on songs.

Yeah, when I was younger I wrote several poems and a few of them even got published but at some point the well somehow ran dry. Now I'm more into prose and whenever I try poetry I just get kind of stuck.

I write about a poem a week. This is my latest.



Dreams

Did you ever hope to dream
of places beyond the fog?
Past secrets, deceptions, lies
your freedom awaits.


And I still remain
bitterly chained to barren lands
finding a living in dust
hidden from view.


But I never cried
as our dreams vanished
and bodies became writhered
as the slow, agonising passage of time
finally caught up.


And yet I never gave up
this dreaming
keeping me afloat
as I slowly faded away
and as your dream fell away
as I tried to save you, tried to mend you
from your inner demons

And now I'm forgotten
melting away
becoming one man's nightmare
forever....

Yeah, but I mostly work on songs.

Same here... And I've only written two songs.