06-18-2005, 04:16 PM | #281 | |
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Quote:
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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. " - C. Sagan My (photography) website My Flickr page |
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06-19-2005, 08:02 PM | #282 |
Dreamweaver
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YAY!!!!!!!!! WHOOOOO HOOOOOOO!
finally i can put 'em somewhere without it being anyone i'll see and they can't mock me!!
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Lord, what fools these mortals be! ---------------- We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems. ---------------- Shanti, shanti, shantih... |
06-21-2005, 05:56 PM | #283 |
The Intermittent One
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Ode to Mithrandir
by Chrys Oh Olorin, Olorin Weaver of dreams The wanderer grey Passing the seams Grey Pilgrim, oh pilgrim Whither goest thou? Passing to the sea All time there to be Bringer of hope Oft to men From Grey to White Renewed thou returned To the End defiant Pursuant of Justice Shadowfax thine steed Passed without heed Ever good thoust were Swift to laugh, as to anger Istari! Istari! The Noblest of them all |
06-21-2005, 06:03 PM | #284 |
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That is a beautiful poem, Chrys. I love the language you use.. and of course the subject. I'm glad to see that you keep on writing!
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06-21-2005, 06:28 PM | #285 |
The Intermittent One
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thank you so very much
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06-21-2005, 08:58 PM | #286 |
Dreamweaver
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good one !
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Lord, what fools these mortals be! ---------------- We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems. ---------------- Shanti, shanti, shantih... |
07-21-2005, 10:22 AM | #287 |
Elven Warrior
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I agree!
That's very good! You guys might just inspire me to start writing some again. It's been about a year since I wrote anything.
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------------------------------------------- Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see. C. S. Lewis ------------------------------------------- I always liked going South, somehow it feels like going downhill. Treebeard ------------------------------------------- ~*~Diary of a Beach Bum~*~ |
07-21-2005, 11:05 AM | #288 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
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Oh, yes, write! Or post some of your old stuff; that's allowed.
That poem was very nice, btw! I've wanted to write a poem about Gandalf for some time now... i ahven't found the right words yet. Here's a bit of a poem I'm working on at this particular moment (well, I've been tinkering at it all morning): The praise of a maid I am writing to tell Whose limbs are slender and rare, Whose eyes are blue-green like the hue of the sea When the day is sunny and fair, But whose lovliest sight is the shining starlight That's caught in her gossamer hair. 'Tis Laura, my Laura, 'tis Laura the Fair, Whose tresses billow and shine; When the cool breezes lift the scent of the grass, Lavender and sage and thyme To perfume her hair with the gentle night air; And caress them with fingers sublime. And that's all so far... I'm working on it.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
07-23-2005, 07:10 PM | #289 |
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Tonight I'm heading for the Sea for everything I need is lost. Too far away to be real far too good to be true.. All I need tonight is my dark corner I don't want to ask for a thing. Please just pretend I'm not here I am not around.. Don't notice me when I go I want to leave in peace. Don't turn around 'cause when you do I'm gone. Please, please just let me go.. Leave me to the Sea. She is fierce tonight..Reaching for me. White wavepeaks embracing my feet Not watching my back.. I might just stab myself. The end of a bridge is a safe place during stormy nights and melancholic nights..
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08-02-2005, 08:42 PM | #290 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
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I like it, Nerdy.
Okay, here's the completed poem: Fair Laura 7/27/05 The praise of a maid I am writing to tell Whose limbs are slender and rare; Whose eyes are blue-green like the hue of the sea When the day is sunny and fair; But whose loveliest sight is the golden sunlight That’s caught in her gossamer hair. ‘Tis Laura, my Laura, the fairest of fair, Whose tresses billow and shine When the cool breezes lift the scent of the grass, Lavender, sage, and thyme, To perfume her hair with the sweet morning air And caress her with fingers sublime. When she runs o’er the fiery meadows of May, The bright flowers bow as she passes. Her hair flutters behind like a banner of light Pure gold against the green grasses. And when even is nigh, the shades of the sky Compare only as feeble brasses. Laura dances on nimble and delicate feet; The sight is like to a fairy dream Which has deigned to descend for one moment’s grace On the wings of a glitt’ring moon-beam, While golden her locks flow as water o’er rocks On the bed of a woodland stream. Now spilling about her like rivers of gold, Or luminous puddles of wine, As on the pillow she rests her fair head, Her soft-tumbling tresses recline. Who is this, who is slumb’ring bliss Is enraptured by dreams divine? ‘Tis Laura, my Laura, the fairest of fair, The praise of whom I have told, And though the years may fade the light in her eyes, Though her limbs grow feeble and old, Though Time wear away the golden to grey, I shall not lament for the gold. For silver is fairer than gold.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
08-14-2005, 03:40 AM | #291 |
Elven Warrior
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The last three poems are wonderful. Each of them. I haven't checked in for a while, so I had a bit of catching up to do. But, lovely work, all of you.
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08-23-2005, 06:34 PM | #292 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
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My thanks.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
08-24-2005, 05:42 PM | #293 |
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It's quite a long one.. I'm not very good at reading long poems myself, so I won't blame you.
Morning star It was a morning of silent sunlight A new day of summer rain The foggy waters called her to open up her mind Calling with a smoothing breeze enticing with what she could find No signs of human action no voice to call her back She dived into the mirror to break the silky black - Seven years of misfortune can’t mean anything now, She thought and took direction towards the sunny glow She dreamt she swam to reach the playful rays of a star She let her body go - today nothing’s too far Soon she came to realize that her mind was open wide She opened up her eyes from the dream she could not hide For like when twilight arrives with a cold and sneaky knife She could not resist when the dream took over her life She almost stopped breathing land was too far away - There’s nothing else to do, she said, than try to find a way So she turned her back upon the sun for life was all she had And begun her journey towards home weary, cold and sad She never understood how far her wild dream had taken her And now that she wanted back the way seemed to never occur Her arms and legs were hurting now and breaths were hard to find So she put all her trust in her own fighting mind Her body was numb but still it moved her mind was blank but still she fought For life had taken hold of her fighting the dream without a thought The road was long, the water cold still the sun stayed with her Even when she had turned her back the dream was strong as fear She swam and let have their fight so no one noticed when The dream slowly took hold of her life and released her from sin Her life was short but only a dream so was it not only right That the seven years of misfortune to come were changed into Light? It was a night of owls howling A passed day of blood red skies
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08-30-2005, 06:57 PM | #294 |
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I rather like it. (It's not really that long, either, I didn't think.) Nice imagery.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
08-30-2005, 07:09 PM | #295 |
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Thanks for the comment..
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09-15-2005, 07:17 PM | #296 |
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Why do I always fall in love with dreams?
Untouched, pure landscapes in the morning mist.. When all I have to do is wait for the fog to dissolve, slowly.. For the true state of this love to show. Once, I fell for a boy, a bright-eyed, clever boy. After that I promised myself never to crawl in the dirt again. I dragged myself up and went to the sea to be washed clean. I let the waves rinse my bare skin until it again shone, white like the stars in the dark night sky. Still, I am there, noticing that I keep falling, deeper, deeper, drowning. And no anger fills my heart, except the fury I hold to myself. No disappointment, no frustration, no hate; I keep it to myself, only show it to myself. For in the deep sea, who else is there to direct it to? Why do I always believe in dreams? In ever-shining stars and an infinite universe.. When all I have to do is close my eyes and see that there’s nothing I’m missing.. To see that after all, there’s nothing as fragile as me.
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09-15-2005, 07:22 PM | #297 |
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Yeah this is where your poem should be. I was wondering how come it was in the venting thread! Again, an amazing piece of inspired poetry, Nerdanel; absolutely beautiful.
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09-15-2005, 07:46 PM | #298 | |
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Quote:
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09-18-2005, 07:27 AM | #299 |
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All you good poets in this thread, have a look at this site - http://www.keo.org/uk/pages/message.php
There, you can submit a poem or a text that will embark aboard a satellite. The satellite will travel in space for 50,000 years before returning to earth, so that future humans can examine the wreck and read the texts included.
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09-19-2005, 07:29 PM | #300 |
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This is originally a poem written in my mother tongue, Swedish. I decided to try to translate it after a conversation with a friend.
I'd appreciate critics, especially when it comes to use of language. Keep them open Forget is what they all want to do - I want to remember find the memories the wounds deep within me tear them up to see the truth. Everyone wants to see the ugly wounds disappear - I want to find mine. To let them heal I have to find my deep cuts and stand the pain. No one wants to feel it, the hurt - everyone wants to flee I want my heart to be torn my body to scream because this is all I can stand.
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