Poetry
Pages
Author | Topic: Poetry |
---|---|
Infiltrator
Member # 1220
|
written Friday, March 26 2004 13:12
Profile
Homepage
Well I've started a poetry site I'm taking submissions and I'm also looking for some HTML and Javascript pros to help me out. So if you want to help e-mail me. Also check it out Poetry Central -------------------- Getapc -------------------- The Flaming Sword of not perfict grammer has now become The Flaming Sword of Pretty Good Grammar. -------------------- Warning pretty good grammar behind.▓ -------------------- A guy with not so perfict grammer has changed to A guy with pretty good grammar. -------------------- I shortened my signature more. Posts: 484 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 1220
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 09:56
Profile
Homepage
Cmmon help a guy out -------------------- Getapc -------------------- The Flaming Sword of not perfict grammer has now become The Flaming Sword of Pretty Good Grammar. -------------------- Warning pretty good grammar behind.▓ -------------------- A guy with not so perfict grammer has changed to A guy with pretty good grammar. -------------------- I shortened my signature more. Posts: 484 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 3239
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 10:11
Profile
I might be able to help out with the HTML part, but I'm not so sure about my poetic abilities... Posts: 203 | Registered: Saturday, July 19 2003 07:00 |
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 10:19
Profile
Homepage
Ditto, except that I've written some, but don't want it to be displayed publically (except for a ballad on the archmage Erika, which must be somewhere on this board still. Just look through some old threads and you'll find it.) Edit: WTH, I'll just repost it a third time. People must think I'm obsessed with this poem now... I re-edited it, though. Concerning HTML: You seem to be able to create pages from what I saw at your site, though... I don't feel up to putting this in a page complete with color scheme and title, though I could tomorrow. You seemed to be able to do it quite well for the other poems at your site, however. _______________________________________ The Ballad of Erika the Sorceress. Erika was a sorceress Whose power blessed Ermarian She fell in disgrace with the Crown And was cast down to Avernum Her power was beyond all thought And so she wrought most mighty spells To nourish life in deepest cave And keep it save from utmost hells. But as time passed, her mind did turn To wrathful, churning thoughts of hate For ere the wizards cast her down They cursed her thus to seal her fate: That ever, if the light of sun Should touch upon her skin again Demonic ire and blazing fire Consume her in the instant then. And so her fury smouldered fey At seeing day for nevermore And soon she plotted full of gall The tyrant's fall and death through gore. A party then - for thus they named Adventurers in days of old - Was magicked up to Hawthorne's place And slew His Grace and got their gold. Years later said an Avernite That surface light'd be pretty nice. So up they went, a party bold, To seek the gold of Sunlight's rise. The Vahntai meanwhile, did strive With all their lives to thwart this end, With monster plagues of slime and steel They did conceal their true intent. So Erika went up herself To aid the party in their plight And battled Rentar-Ihrno there But Rentar brought the deadly light Into the caves, and on the spot A blaze as hot as brightest star Consumed the mighty magic-know'r, Renownèd sorc'ress Erika. _____________________________________ I also wrote something like a prophecy for the Avernum world, though it's horrible and rather lengthy (seeing as the events described cover the entire trilogy). Here's an excerpt, though I don't necessarily want this published on a website. Just look at it, and if it doesn't appear to be total crap, enjoy. This is just a bit though, the whole thing is 4 pages. [...] And those down in the caverns, Caught in Darkness, between foes And fiends, they shall lift up their faces To the memory of Sunlight, and Weep (Weep for the Loss of Light!) And weep for the loss of Hope. And they will curse their fate, The cruelty that left them alive, To starve in agony in the Darkness. And they shall curse, and name this land Avernum! For the Land of the Walking Dead. (Weep for the Loss of Light! Weep for the Loss of Hope!) [...] [ Saturday, March 27, 2004 15:09: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Visit The Santharian Dream and its RP board. Or the Encyclopaedia Ermariana! Got a brain? Go to Polaris! "It is as if everyone had lost their sense To a conspiracy for downfall and desperance And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey (freely translated). Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 1220
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 10:36
Profile
Homepage
That would be great I need quite a bit of work done. If you could make a page and put some stuff on and I could copy it or I could give you access to my website either way works. -------------------- Getapc -------------------- The Flaming Sword of not perfict grammer has now become The Flaming Sword of Pretty Good Grammar. -------------------- Warning pretty good grammar behind.▓ -------------------- A guy with not so perfict grammer has changed to A guy with pretty good grammar. -------------------- I shortened my signature more. Posts: 484 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 3776
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 18:04
Profile
Homepage
Every things quite good.Specially the cats -------------------- Some stupid laws If it is mine,it is mine. If I had it a second ago,it is mine If it looks like it is mine it is mine. If it is your's and you keep it down,it becomes mine. If I like something,it is mine If I see something,then it is mine. Please click here Do not visit this Page Want to visit the misc.boards-This is the only WAY -Stinging Munster Posts: 413 | Registered: Friday, December 12 2003 08:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 1220
|
written Saturday, March 27 2004 18:24
Profile
Homepage
The one about Cats the play or just the cats. I wrote the one about the play -------------------- Getapc -------------------- The Flaming Sword of not perfict grammer has now become The Flaming Sword of Pretty Good Grammar. -------------------- Warning pretty good grammar behind.▓ -------------------- A guy with not so perfict grammer has changed to A guy with pretty good grammar. -------------------- I shortened my signature more. Posts: 484 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 3605
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 03:15
Profile
Homepage
Html? Ha!!! i usse de Dreemweever (Dreamever $, to be precise). It makes life easier for us lazy people... Edit: Dreamweaver 4 to be preciser [ Sunday, March 28, 2004 03:45: Message edited by: Angry Ogre ] -------------------- BOAC, youll know if you click... Posts: 358 | Registered: Monday, October 27 2003 08:00 |
Master
Member # 1046
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 09:42
Profile
Homepage
TEH GRAET HIAKU ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE -------------------- Urban wisdom is not actual wisdom. It's more like the seemingly philosophical statements that sometimes leak out of my strange mind through my mouth, or in the case of message boards, my hands. -------------------- Clan Xeon - Warcraft III clan Polaris - Weather Balloons YAY Undead Theories - Don't Ask, Don't Tell Posts: 3323 | Registered: Thursday, April 25 2002 07:00 |
Agent
Member # 618
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 10:26
Profile
Homepage
Tha's nay haiku la'! Seekon' lane got ate syllbels ! Heng ye heid in shaam! - cunning use of haikuability to protest idiocy. KoolBeanz EDIT: Okay I'm stupid, I managed to get eight in my second too. [ Sunday, March 28, 2004 10:29: Message edited by: FatBatMonkey ] -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 10:57
Profile
Eh, Wisey, "seven" has two syllables, making that line eight. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon TEH CONSPIRACY IZ ALL In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
Agent
Member # 618
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 11:03
Profile
Homepage
That does happen to be what I just said. (With of course the possible exception of "wisey", I don't think I said that. Or maybe I did, or was that the bit about purple goats? Oh well! My memory must be going in my extreme old age of three!) -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 3239
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 11:18
Profile
Yay, I found my poem that I made about the boogeyman, you can include this on your site if you want: T3H B00G3YM@N by Reality Corp. "Get to bed," the parents yell the little children don't agree. "The Boogeyman will surely get you then and you will pay the fee." But do they listen? Not a chance. They continue on to play. Until they hear a voice above them: "You will surely die today." Little children run and hide, to escape their gruesome fate. But only now do they realize, that running is too late. Running fast and running hard, they run as much as they can. But no matter how much they will try, they won't escape the Boogeyman. Posts: 203 | Registered: Saturday, July 19 2003 07:00 |
Guardian
Member # 3521
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 19:06
Profile
I've posted this once before, but I'll post it again. It's the only bit of poetry I've created that I think is worthy of any praise, and although I've been told at times that I have a knack for writing, I've always been far too lazy to bother to exploit it for anything more than the occasional assignment. I have lived in the mountain for years. Breathed its dank air Dreamt dreams, indulged my fears Engaged in thoughts both mundane and rare. I have wandered its passages long. Found secret portals and dark lairs I have been filled with joy, have broken into song, Have watered the hard ground with my tears. A rough-hewn stairway exists here Leading up into shadowy unrest Its destination shielded from the sharp eye?s peer Hidden in the cloak of mist. I have thought often of making the climb. Of trekking up the tortuous stair And reaching the top, aching limb from limb To find a world far more fair. But whenever this thought occurs to me I realize its danger, its deceptive facility And considering everything, I always see I?m better off in my mountain of security. -------------------- Stughalf "The death-knell of the republic had rung as soon as the active power became lodged in the hands of those who sought, not to do justice to all citizens, rich and poor alike, but to stand for one special class and for its interests as opposed to the interests of others."- Theodore Roosevelt, 1903. Posts: 1798 | Registered: Sunday, October 5 2003 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 3220
|
written Sunday, March 28 2004 19:13
Profile
That was very good. Posts: 437 | Registered: Sunday, July 13 2003 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 2445
|
written Monday, March 29 2004 09:52
Profile
Oracles Wisdom costs their kindness Knowledge sickens their souls I watch from a distance how they Sit on dark thrones, incense smoke writhing, obscuring Mutter serene prophecies Rule gods and royalty, their fortresses, iron foundations shaken, cracked The gospel rewritten, the castles in the air toppled No laws of science or government move them and their words We do not hear the whispers passing their lips Yet the crude, unstable towers of rumour and half-caught tales Write our doctrines, build our history, crown our kings Soak our men in blood Millions have died for these spirit's whispers Still blades are bloodied by indecipherable rhymes Still tears are shed by those who have lost to an unproven phrase And everything ashes to nothing The untouchables, the unspoken to Corpses litter the ground at at their feet Oracles mutter on Aha. Girly poem. All the teenagers must write bad free verse. And cut themselves. ALSO! Because the archaic seems to be in fashion, here's something else. I've written a couple plays in rhyme - this is the beginning of my third: I had my lute and my poetry I told of divided dominions, fairy creed A hundred blades wiped clean on bloodied snow A traveler with many leagues to go How many dead tales have the troubadours told? In the shining courts of emperors old Of spell-woven swords and sorcerer queens Of hooded strangers robed in green Where are our metered songs now sung? How many new stories have us spiders spun? We are abandoned to a nowhere fate As kings concern themselves with politics in other states Now they look to the future, not the past Our legends, like fine roses, couldn?t last No haven for what was once a royal troubadour Save inns for the plaguèd, ale-blind poor Many better storytellers than I drink And are content to no longer tell tales or think In dreams but spend days with a poorer company Of fools and ne?er do-wells and petty thieves. [ Monday, March 29, 2004 10:03: Message edited by: Rosycat ] -------------------- Aces off. Posts: 611 | Registered: Friday, January 3 2003 08:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 1217
|
written Tuesday, March 30 2004 16:51
Profile
Homepage
The Ballad of the Last Warrior I was the strongest of my kind, The mightyest of all, For through my strength and will and speed, I was the last to fall. I was paid sums beyond compare, To loan my services to few, My was always victorious, Oh, only if they knew... My past held many secrets, My deepest, darkest fears, That if they only knew about, Would turn them on their ears. My path was fraught with tragedies, That Fate herself had wrought, All of those many dear to me, Within this web were caught. Elaborate on these I shall, But first something I must say. Though I've accepted these as destiny, I do not wish it that way. ---------------------------- My life began in such a way, That may seem linked to this, For my mother and my father, Were both upon the list. They were to be executed, Though they waged a valiant fight, But in the end, the cruel, steel axe, Extinguished their bright lights. ---------------------------- My siblings were adopted, By a cruel, uncaring man, When ever he turned his back, We tried out many plans. We tried to run, To hide, to flee, Though in the end, Our plans he'd see. He'd whip us, beat us, Through the night. In the end we had one option: Not to flee but fight. Our plan was very simple, To kill him in his sleep, We waited for him to don his nightcap, And into slumber creep. We grabbed our sharpened kitchen knives, We snuck without a sound, Up to the room where the cruel man slept, Our feet barely touched the ground. And then we were upon him, Cleaved and cleaved again, Never would he torment him, Never, that is when. Once the deed was done, We fled that awful place, Against time and the sunrise, It was a mighty race. ---------------------------- When finally we were safe and sound, The town far out of sight, We found ourselves in a desert, And it was quickly getting light. We ran further inside it, The sun rising in the sky, Why we ran so fervently, I never shall know why. By now the sun was risen, Its harsh rays beat down, We were separated, Going and circles, round and round. I was found by a caravan, That sold me as a slave, I was to be a gladiator, Many foes met with my blade. I was there reunited, With my brother in the ring, The battle was a fierce one, Of which many bards did sing. I struck the final mighty blow, My masked opponent fell, My brother's face did show to me, That all was not at all well. "My dearest brother, you've been tricked." He stated as he lay, At my side, upon the dust, "No, my brother... Nay!" At this the life left him, I was left alone, I vowed to ever sheathe my sword, My voice as hard as stone. ---------------------------- I escaped the cruel cell I called home, Escaped to the countryside, It was there I married a woman, With whom fate would soon collide. In the middle of the night, Tragedy did strike, My wife and son were struck down, By a dark, mysterious reich. It was then I saw my true destiny, To defend the weak and feeble, I drew my blade, my foes tasted cold steel, And I swore a vow to defend the unable. ---------------------------- Now as these memories are fresh in my mind, I think of the deaths in my life, My father, mother, sisters and brother, And of course my dear dead wife. Their sacrifices were needless, And yet they were made, It just goes to show you, The way that fate is laid. So as I sit and think about, The way I peddled my might, I really makes me think to myself, That I may have not been right. I ponder to myself, The vow that I have made, I know I haven't upheld it, Deep into my thoughts I wade. ---------------------------- I promise now, to myself, This vow I shall uphold, And never shall I kill again, If all to gain is gold. So as I drift deep into sleep, I wonder if it's true? That so many others, Know the suffering that I knew... -------------------- ALBATROSS!!! -John Cleese !!!Long live Monty Python!!! Not a Chance! Long Live The Weather Balloons! Posts: 304 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
Infiltrator
Member # 2104
|
written Tuesday, March 30 2004 17:00
Profile
Homepage
I like that poemy poem! I posted this, but not here: Anything But What is it? What have we here? Could it be? Can it be? Is it the killer of life? In here? How could it be anything but? We've searched all over, You can see, but not touch! Why don't you think it could be anything but? Here, in this box, as banal as can be, It can kill many, as only some can see. Those whom cannot are those with greedy eyes, Oh, aren't they in for a wonderful surprise? How could it be anything but? The golden box, in which it lays, Lays most wonderful power, such dangerous power, Such dark, black power. How could it be anything but? ------------------------------ Yey. My poem. --Jonnie Zahndi Zolohahni -------------------- —Jonah Zahndi Zolohahni Jonnie's Domain. JDF — Jonnie's Domain Forums. Posts: 549 | Registered: Thursday, October 17 2002 07:00 |
BANNED
Member # 4
|
written Tuesday, March 30 2004 17:11
Profile
Homepage
Rosy, is that first poem supposed to be some sort of self-destructive modernity? I can't do poetry well- I need a short story to say what I want. -------------------- Rate My Scenarios! Streila Spies Unbalanced Accounts Inn of Blades Echoes Echoes: Assault Echoes: Black Horse Echoes: Pawns Bandits Echoes: Combat/Skirmish Two Strands Bandits II: Ballad of the Red Star Roses of Reckoning (BoE) Corporeus The Claim Roses of Reckoning (BoA) Nebulous Times Hence Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00 |
Apprentice
Member # 4169
|
written Tuesday, March 30 2004 19:49
Profile
Homepage
I think that the site should credit the writers. I don't know who wrote what. Also, the poems should have their own sub-sections instead of, for example, all funny pages on one page. It would be cool if there was a way to use CGI for people to add comments to the poems, but Freewebs doesn't allow that. -------------------- -- Zell_1388 Posts: 13 | Registered: Sunday, March 28 2004 08:00 |
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
|
written Wednesday, March 31 2004 08:31
Profile
Homepage
quote:I can't see any of the poems right now, but I can only second that. Always credit the sources of your content, or the Dark God of Plagiarism will get you and do nasty things to you. -------------------- Visit The Santharian Dream and its RP board. Or the Encyclopaedia Ermariana! Got a brain? Go to Polaris! "It is as if everyone had lost their sense To a conspiracy for downfall and desperance And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey (freely translated). Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 3239
|
written Wednesday, March 31 2004 14:52
Profile
Well, hopefully there aren't any Sean Howsleys, or whoever that guy is, in these forums...or at least I hope not... EDIT: It's Sean Howard. I was only a little bit off. EDIT2: About the template, I don't know if anyone else noticed, but the links look just about as white as the backround for them. So you can't really see where they go unless you look at the status bar. [ Wednesday, March 31, 2004 15:03: Message edited by: Gremlin Chief ] Posts: 203 | Registered: Saturday, July 19 2003 07:00 |
Shock Trooper
Member # 764
|
written Thursday, April 1 2004 10:39
Profile
Homepage
I have written a funny poem in English about breaking out from school. I am a A* student in English and normally write seriously. My school In the high seas of this democracy, there is no mercy. School drags on, like a tortoise on the run, after-school passes in seconds, flies by, like a ostrich in the sky. Corporal punishment is the "in", I mean, trampy students raid the bins. Clever people suffer from lousy whims, inflicted by those whose brains are dim. The smoke on their clothes dazes me, the tramps are such incompentant fiends. Soon I will leave, be free and safe. When I speak interlectually I will not be afraid. Life will be fun -(I wont be making illegal guns)- I will be working as good as a lost king could be. -------------------- "I come back to you now, of the turn of the tide"--Gandalf Greyhame in the two towers. ---------------------------- "i am Aragorn son of Arathorn son of Isildur, son of elendile. Ellasar, elfstone Heir to Gondor".-- Aragorn in the Lord of the rings ------------------------------------ "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. What you must decide is what to do with the time that is given"-- Gandalf greyhame The fellowship. ------------------------------------- "Fools speak becuase they have to say something, and the wise speak becuase they have something to say"-Me! ------------------------------------------ "Ash nag gimbatu, ash nac francartulouk, ash nac aratook"- The ringwaraiths Posts: 237 | Registered: Sunday, March 17 2002 08:00 |
Senile Reptile
Member # 547
|
written Thursday, April 1 2004 10:51
Profile
Roses are red, violets are blue, grass is green, leaves are too. Bricks are red, My computer, black, I'm kind of bored now, Cut me some slack. My English book's white, Like a summer bloom, I think, in a minute, Work I'll resume. Some flowers are white, They are called lillies, Some flowers purple... This is just silly. Granite is gray, My mouse is as well, Essays are boring, Beaches have shells. This stanza just - 'bout wraps things up, So I'll break the rhyming and rhythmic patters I've been using and end with a grammatically incorrect sentence, like so. -------------------- Polaris Posts: 1614 | Registered: Wednesday, January 23 2002 08:00 |
Warrior
Member # 2978
|
written Thursday, April 1 2004 12:00
Profile
Ah, Teenage Poetry; It's the only thing more useless than angst, and the perfect way to waste good bandwidth. Here's your sideorder of sappy lovesong: She sits there laughing at the rain And I wonder if she knows That the way it comes down reminds me of me And the way I fall Fall for you I could fall into Those eyes of blue And a voice like summer skies that smile Down on me Invitingly Frost bites the land, the sky is bleak And I wonder when she speaks How moch she knows of how I feel How much she really means to me I guess we Will never know Even though I would love to tell her, I'm afraid She'll say no Oh, God No! It wouldn't be legal to post this on your website though. Copyright and such. -------------------- I told you not to poke it! Posts: 148 | Registered: Tuesday, May 13 2003 07:00 |