10-03-2006, 06:38 PM | #341 |
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*smiles* good to hear..
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10-16-2006, 07:44 PM | #342 |
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Rain
_____________ Rain, rain, We thank God for Rain No ifs, ands, or ors Thank you God for rain All day, All night, Yesterday, Last night This morning, Let it rain This evening, More rain Yeah, Rain!
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10-18-2006, 05:47 PM | #343 |
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This is something I wrote based on a photo of my brother from when we visited an amusement park.. I love the photo.
http://i93.photobucket.com/albums/l7...aahhh2orig.jpg Breathe/Free Flying higher, higher, falling, down through the clean air I'm whirling, on the softest grass I'm lolling until my heart stops beating. I close my eyes to see the world, I open my mouth to smell the truth I spread my wings to feel me falling, I scream my rush into the silence Hearing a pulse in my voice, there's no way to rejoice like this, and my first choice is the drug of life, always.
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10-18-2006, 06:46 PM | #344 |
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I'm still working on this one.. And I'd be happy to get some constructive criticism, especially on the language (if there are errors and such).
3D Time Through Time we travel, through an unknown medium of life and age. At Times we realize the limits there are have been forgotten. We fade like a colour on a big wall of stories the stories we’ll never tell. Time passes along invisible paths where lives get lost to never find their way back. Space In Space there are no limits, no limits serves no end and gives nothing to hold on to. Through Space we travel, with no destination to the end that never was. Space is endless but ours is not when Time sets limits no one can cross. Time and Space, Space and Time the two dimensions, the cornerstones to build lives upon. Us In Time and in Space I travelled until I found an alternative way, until I found the third dimension. Now I’m falling and I’m flying, both at the same Time, in a Space without up and down. Through us there is a meaning for life to keep on walking after getting lost and never go back. We have a beginning, we have an end, we have everything between.
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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. " - C. Sagan My (photography) website My Flickr page Last edited by Nerdanel : 01-20-2007 at 07:43 PM. |
10-26-2006, 06:49 PM | #345 |
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I'm just going to continue.. More poems.
Defrosted Arriving home, late, burning finally being defrosted Trembling with keys feeling my way through the dark Thrown on the bed impatient dragging myself back up Invoked by fresh air rushing closing doors, opening others The rain.. The rain calming quenching a thirst, a fire on my skin Thirsting, burning, yearning walking out on the quiet streets A city in a deep sleep breathing the rain, calming, calming Empty benches listening full of stories, lives, dreams Resting I can hear them sighing but comforting, always ready A night of awoken dreams floating visiting listeners under burning trees Continous movement calming tonight I'm listening Lying down under the stars sensating no worries can find me here Different stories, different lives benches alone or in pairs Washed clean, calm, warm pure with tragedies, comedies, lives Waking up at sunrise twitching rising, greeting the sun Slowly walking homeward smiling ready to burn again, ready to move on
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11-28-2006, 09:32 PM | #346 |
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nerdy! i think ur writing gets better and better!
i've written lots lately... let's see... o! here's one that rhymes! "Unsurity" Standing on a precipice, looking down below wond'ring where this journey takes me, wondering how far I'll go. Indecision on the wind that bites through flesh and bone; the ground 'neath my feet crumbling, in my unsurity, I'm alone. If others see that welcomed light in that silent darkness yonder, why can't I just believe it's there? But instead I start to ponder: If I jump and don't hit bottm, will I fall for all eternity? That screaming blackness as my home, no solid ground for security? But I've trveled far to be at this ledge, tears cried, pain felt, much sorrow; so I'll leap today, and pray my feet hit sweet, soft earth tomorrow.
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11-30-2006, 09:15 PM | #347 |
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look! a SONG!!
No Longer the Hero Tired of playing hero, I think I'm going to fly on. I can't always be your shelter, can't be there for you to cry on. This rock has many cracks, and this solid ground is quaking; I look down at my firm hand, and notice that it's shaking. (Chorus) So help me bare your burdens 'Cuz I'm weighed down with your load. Don't mind being your partner down this wicked, rocky road. But I've got my own worries, and you're adding to them daily, don't make me be the hero, 'Cuz I need someone to save me. My mind was never strong; now it's breaking with the strain. I feel the tension pulling, on both my heart and brain. There's an aching in my chest where I keep your troubles caged; it's deep in a moral battle that my common sense has raged. Don't ask much more of this soul for my own darkness is stirring. The line between my life and yours is ever-slowly blurring. Chorus (Bridge) If you value me as harbor, then seek another port. A storm's on the horizon, and to you I must resort. It's your turn to be my solace, now you have to hear my cry. Save this once strong soul; don't leave me here to die. Chorus 2x's
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*smooch* Proud Member of the Evil Mooters and upstanding citizen of the Planet Bob! And all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be... My Space! Cynicism is what happens when a person opens their eyes; stops blinking in the sun, and starts wondering "why". Question everything, believe only that which you yourself deem true. Go ahead- Call me cynical. |
11-30-2006, 09:19 PM | #348 |
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and some more sutff lol (told ya i was busy...)
Leather-Clad Pseudo-Men Little boys get leather jackets when they turn into men. Leather jackets signify that in cryptic ways, I guess: 'Cause you need big, broad shoulders to wear one well- like Arnold did. But do you want to know what I think? 'Bout these leather-clad machismos? I think they're still just little boys who cry for Mommy in their minds; Think they need those leather jackets to make their shoulders broader. and in response to something my friend peter said about that one... Princesses, Pinkies, and Curls )Oh My!) So do you know our secret? Those of us with breasts? The secret of eternal youth that rests inside us? Very simply- we're all little girls the curls on our foreheads never left; if you look hard enough you'll see the stuff we're made of may not always seem like sugar and spice but even nice gets tarnished with years of wear and tear. Our pinky's are clad with boyfriends and Dad who will always dote on our inner-Princess. See? That inner royal being is seen by others- not on the surface always, but there, waiting to be cared for, and served, and waited on, and listened to, by those the Princess, sometimes a Queen, deems our inferior. Long live Her Royal Majesty.
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*smooch* Proud Member of the Evil Mooters and upstanding citizen of the Planet Bob! And all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be... My Space! Cynicism is what happens when a person opens their eyes; stops blinking in the sun, and starts wondering "why". Question everything, believe only that which you yourself deem true. Go ahead- Call me cynical. |
12-01-2006, 10:51 AM | #349 |
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I love your songs/poetry Lady Ravyn.
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12-01-2006, 02:47 PM | #350 |
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thanx!
do you have any? if so, you should put 'em up!
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*smooch* Proud Member of the Evil Mooters and upstanding citizen of the Planet Bob! And all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be... My Space! Cynicism is what happens when a person opens their eyes; stops blinking in the sun, and starts wondering "why". Question everything, believe only that which you yourself deem true. Go ahead- Call me cynical. |
12-13-2006, 11:09 AM | #351 |
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Trying to Save a Life
And you both stand, Facing each other With hands over ears, Screaming 'til your throats are raw. But nothing gets accomplished When no one listens To cries in the night Nothing gets done When no one wants to bend. So we sit on the side lines Out-reached hands Trying to console; Trying to fix it. Tears stream Down my face for you; And all you can hear Are the sounds of your own fury, The sounds of your own pain. Nothing can change When the spectators Do more than those In the game.
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*smooch* Proud Member of the Evil Mooters and upstanding citizen of the Planet Bob! And all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be... My Space! Cynicism is what happens when a person opens their eyes; stops blinking in the sun, and starts wondering "why". Question everything, believe only that which you yourself deem true. Go ahead- Call me cynical. |
01-18-2007, 07:03 PM | #352 |
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A Tribute to Freedom
Spectacular spectacles floating in red, white and blue Fifty sleeping miracles thirteen more reasons to sue Black coffee in the morning, hot apple pie at noon A greasy doughnut with icing, double cheese at full moon Music in all colours, people voluntarily locked in Everyone with secret lovers, no guilt after confessing sin Cars bigger than anyone's God, freeways leading nowhere Crazy people going abroad - dangerous are those who dare Freedom is to be released, hope to wait for a leader Faith is a treasure increased, heaven no place for a bleeder Bigger is always better, less is never more Creating a thought and writing a letter makes the listless head sore Safety is to close borders, building walls to keep change out Sin is causing disorders in a screaming nation unable to shout Material riches for those who are blessed, buying return-tickets to heaven Hiding the weak and obsessed in front of dr. Phil at seven Hid behind make-up and fake noses are people, screaming in pillows Boys named nothing less than Moses, girls preparing to be widows A nation with only one dream; to fight their fight, alone in glory Remembering to smile and never scream, to get loved for their success story Seeing a reflection in the mirror, denying relatedness Hiding the domestic terror behind a fanatic bureaucratic mess Spectacular spectacles and a whole nation for sale Ten-dollar miracles and no room to fail
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01-20-2007, 04:32 PM | #353 | ||
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Quote:
Quote:
I find this a great poem too. Good job Nerdy!
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01-20-2007, 07:43 PM | #354 | |
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Quote:
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02-01-2007, 07:20 PM | #355 |
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Stuck
I woke up this morning feeling kind of stuck I couldn't move and I thought, "Well, that's my luck" I tried to stretch my arms and legs, but nothing happened, nothing moved I tried to use my powerful mind, but my peculiar situation wasn't improved. So, I thought, seems I'm through stuck in my bed with nothing else to do than rest my head and my weary body too and wait until the sun is new. _________________ Traces of You I'm out here looking for traces of you in the city of sleeping nightmares, on bleeding streets of clotted oil If I only knew now what I knew then But facts change and reality rebuilds as we live and let our minds degrade So here I am, searching under stone, bush and warm blankets for pieces and parts of you, for hints to prove you weren't just a dream _________________ In My Dreams I see them running around the corners of this room of mine, I see them playing like dandelion children in the sun I feel the breeze from their smiles through the window, I feel they've experienced everything I've ever done I can never leave this room, it's mine and it's in me like I am in it and I'm a part of it, inseparable I sense the world outside, but it's nothing but a vibe like a crack in the mirror, irreparable Here between my own walls I fear nothing, everything can be run from except yourself Now there is nothing to hide behind, and everything I can do is face myself But my face is not mine anymore, it's gone it's twisted and distorted by the old windows I can never get lost again, never step outside And even now, I don't know what follows In my dreams I stand on the brink of freedom, casting one last glance at the past then taking off, never looking back again Entering the mist of the future, at last But when I wake up it's all gone, I'm gone but I can still see it, clearly For outside the children still play, free and unbound and all I can do is hope they stay that way, sincerely
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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. " - C. Sagan My (photography) website My Flickr page Last edited by Nerdanel : 02-01-2007 at 07:26 PM. |
02-27-2007, 11:51 PM | #356 |
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Am trying to write again lately.
you know i'm here the nights, alone and cold, stretch out into forever resisting sleep for a little longer it's thinking of you and wondering, are you there waiting for me? that is lonelier than your absence
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03-06-2007, 10:01 PM | #357 |
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Sweet Insomnia
I haven’t slept for days Every morning I’ve been awake watching the sun’s first rays Every night, the moon in a new phase I haven’t closed my eyes not felt like slumbering But there’s nothing wrong nothing I find bothering You’re just too beautiful when you sleep
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03-09-2007, 10:42 AM | #358 |
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"A Crowd Not Our Own"
We only get old To get younger, Tryin' to fit in With little ones beneath us Who are young And tryin' to get older, To fit in with us up above. And we only get wise To dumb down, Tryin' to fit in With the stupid ones below Who are dumb And tryin' to get wiser, To fit in with us way up here. So the aging comes And the oldness goes, While the wisdom grows And the ignorance starts; And the world spins 'round While we all try changin'- Tryin' to fit in With a crowd not our own. ************************************************** "Curls and Sunshine" i remember you from back then, when you were all curls and sunshine; before sex drugs and rock 'n roll. and isn't it funny how i still think about the way you said hello when you answered the phone? except that last time; do you remember that? when i called you from the Darkness and reached out with a "hello" and a quiet "help me"? your hello was different then as you said it with your shakey cigarette voice and i wondered what had happened to that pretty little blonde girl? and you ignored my silent plea; for you had demons of your own- and what good are two wounded birds to one another? but i miss you sometimes; you and your sunny day smile.
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03-10-2007, 08:56 PM | #359 |
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very nice poems, lady. the first one is actually about something i've thought a lot about.. well, frankly we're never happy with where and who we are but always strive for something else.
i like the second one quite a lot too, especially the second verse from the end. great job.
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03-10-2007, 09:00 PM | #360 |
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The title of this one is a pun (that is, I know the word is actually written believer ) and a response to a poem by an online friend of mine: hers is called Ayouist (a pun on 'atheist'). She's a believer, I'm an atheist. This is, of course, about more than that, though.. I've found myself very, very frustrated with the church and my parents lately, mostly because of child baptism. Okay, I won't babble anymore now.. X)
Beleaver ‘Live like it’s your last day‘, they say so I sway all the way until the day when the truth is on display and everyone’s gone away Double are the morals they preach as the simplicity of the minds they teach Lies, unreachable skies and despise in their speech all their goals are out of reach Everything we wish for they ban Every plan, every man they scan Like the oppression, the wars they began Like those people who died, ‘twas from them they ran I want to trust myself in what I do but they make me think I have no clue as to what is false and what is true: everything I knew grew and tore me in two ‘Leave your ugly lust behind and hide until your mind’s refined’ So you ask me to be actively blind and suppress the true nature of my kind Because of religion I’m in pain of what I did out that late in the rain: ‘What’s that look, what’s that stain, is it joy your heart and mind contain!’
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