Poetry (Merged threads. HLG)

[7doubles]

Falla, i thought ' i do not buy " was slang for " i do not believe and\or dont want any part of" but what do i know?

[faila]

Originally posted by 7doubles
Falla, i thought ' i do not buy " was slang for " i do not believe and\or dont want any part of" but what do i know? Yea it is. I was just defining what philosophy I didnt believe in the next line. (well atleast defining in part)

[Angoreth]

can any one post poetry on this?

[Aglarthalion]

I have never written a song or tune related to any of Tolkien's works, however one of my favourite songs from one of my favourite bands is Misty Mountain Hop by Led Zeppelin:

MISTY MOUNTAIN HOP

Walkin' in the park just the other day, baby
What do you, what do you think I saw
Crowds of people sittin' on the grass with flowers in their hair said
Hey, boy, do you wanna score
And you know how it is
I really don't know what time it was, whoa oh hoh
So I asked them if I could stay a while

I didn't notice but it had got very dark and I was really
Really out of my mind
Just then a policeman stepped up to me and asked us said
Please, hey, would we care to all get in line
Get in line
Well you know
They asked us to stay for tea and have some fun, hoh hoh oh
He said that his friends would all drop by, ooh ooh ooh ooh

Why don't you take a good look at yourself and describe what you see
And baby, baby, baby, do you like it
There you sit, sitting spare like a book on a shelf rustin'
Ah, I'm not trying to fight it
You really don't care if they're coming, hoh hoh oh
I know that it's all a state of mind, ooh ooh ooh ooh

(Guitar Solo)

If you go down in the streets today, baby, you better
You better open your eyes, whoa-oo-oh yeah
Folk down there really don't care, really don't care, don't care, really don't
Which, which way the pressure lies
So I've decided what I'm gonna do now
So I'm packing my bags for the Misty Mountains
Where the spirits go now
Over the hills where the spirits fly

Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I really don't know
I really don't know

[7doubles]

yes Angoreth, welcome

"the van"
i lived and died before i was even born
i rock the jukebox like a dico capricorn
somewhere sometime tonight allright
i'm bending the rules
i made the plan, its time to be gone
to forget the world
to leave it all behind
and never
forget your mine
never,,,, never lie

[Tar-Ancalime]

Curse you and your demonic presence,
curse the moment our lips touched,
and i was spell bound to you.
I hate your stupid smile,
just get the hell away!

[Liat_ravensong]

interesting!

[Angoreth]

Cry's of sorrow.

Theres enough sorrow ,
left over for tomorrow.
Will I ever get out of this pit,
this pit of sorrow.I've cryed
enough tears to cry a river,
Will I ever get a healer.Drowned
my pain and fill my joy, will my
parts ever get rejoined?Do you
hear my cry's or feel my pain, of
course you do but you turn in shame.
I am sick of this cruelty, will I ever get
my royalty?

[7doubles]

Tar, that was pure sole fire. beautiful:p

[Tar-Ancalime]

thanx seven:p

[Burb]

here are a couple of poems i wrote a few years ago.
they are both based on mythology and dont have anything to do with middle earth.

Great Odin

Oh, great Odin..... save me
Oh, great god...... enlighten me
You drank from the well of wisdom
You rule the whole of the kingdom
Oh, father I am one of many sons
Shelter me from the rain
The sun is gone
Carry me to the other side of war
Show me the way through the door
Toward the light I truly seek
Inside your universe I peak

Sadness grips my lord, my czar
To stop this pain I travel far
Into the realm of wooden stars
Behind the light of our bazzars


Beautiful Phoenix

Beautiful Pheonix, why must you die tonight?
Spirits kneel at your very sight
Your son must carry you to the realm of your ruler
He has your wisdom, yet is much truer
You must help me save my kingdom
I know that at your birth you will come

And the sky will be filled with your majestic flight
All will be well by the fall of night
When the sun hides and the moon appears
Your warmth will dry my people’s tears
So fly to me, my fabled friend
Until the pyre calls your journey’s end

[Lantarion]

I saw a tree, a tree of wood
and lo! it too saw me
I wondered then and asked its trunk:
"Since when can alders see?"

Replied the tree: "I do not know
"but this I'll gladly tell:"
"He whosoever mocks my boughs
"shall banished be to Hell!"

But Ivor stood undaunted there
before his blinking wick
And seeing then his insolence
the tree gave him a kick!

"For what does now my ankle hurt?"
he cried, and limped in pain
"Forever may your boughs stay dry
"Unblesséd by the rain!"

Then Tree (whose name was Ficklewood)
looked at him, quite aghast
A little man he is, he thought
but proud as wooden mast

"Alright, young sir," said Ficklewood
extending out a twig
"I ask for your forgiveness now
of one so small yet big."

Then pride swelled in young Ivor's chest
and turning, answered he:
"I grant it not, O alder dry!"
and fell into the Sea

:D I hope you enjoyed that; I'm thinking of writing more humouristic poetry, and I'd value your opinion oof this. :)

[Kementari]

LOL Lanty! I luv it

Great poems everyone

[omnipotent_elf]

Elesser, thats awesome
i always use rain to give me inspiration......

[Ol'gaffer]

It's absolutelivily positivily brilliant lantarion! :D

[Angoreth]

I am wondering why yo gave me life, I am wondering why I got stabbed by your knife. I am wondering why I am still alive, I am wondering why, this got chosen for my life.



I am still wondering why, you wonder about acting like you care, like no ones aware, you put on a mask to forget your past, and all the while you were shadowed in the task,most things are forgoten, for this is to true for I have been forgotten, but only by you.



will I ever return to your mind, or is it in stone I am to be alone, forever it seems I have no dreams.My feture is shattered I can still hear your laughter.. 2,000 years pass and I am still in the grass while you live day by day. will no one find me will I ever feel love. apperently not for I am still stuck in the mud.



I await my trial will you satnd in denial. will you ever explain why this happened to me, will I ever know or just be left in the cold. apperently so, I shall reamain here, always shall I be, remaining, as stone. I am solid rock unmovable,ruler of my domain

[Lantarion]

Hihi, thankee all. :)

I saw a wave, and wet it was
like dampened crust of bread
Nay wetter still; but nonetheless
I walked beside its bed

And then, not in complete surprise
and watched a wave deploy
From deep inside its deep blue bowels
an angry little boy

He fumed and stamped and shouted out
(I thought it best to hide)
But in one place this little thing
would never long abide

And so he set off down the beach
and slowly calmed he down
And then did Ivor step upon
a thing small, soft and brown

"Ill luck, O cruel as winter is!"
he cried in grim disgust
Then scraping off the muck he said,
"Begone into the dust!"

But then the thing upon his foot
opened an angered eye
And Ivor, with his right leg up
did let his left leg fly

And frightened as he was (poor thing)
could Ivor say no word
And muck (who called himself Juán)
was gone, and never heard

Upon the road lay Ivor long
and pondered on his life
"What sin have I commited now
"To gain such foolish strife?"

Haha, I think I'll keep working with Ivor, he's a silly fellow.

[Emowyn]

hmmm very interesting, ok then Emlyn, bow down to the king....
also, I need the score a wrote in Quinta, I'm gonna put it onto my comp and see if I can transpose it...mind if I use it for one of my peices? it'll sound ace in a flute!

[Tar-Ancalime]

What is this funny emotion called love?
I mean, why is it so amazingly kind,
yet it makes you feel so dizy inside.
Why does it make your heart flutter like a butterly's wings,
and break it's spirit with the same ease?
It can charm away your well-guarded defenses,
yet build them up with every folowing heartbreak.

Curious thing,
this love is,
its like a dream,
that comes true,
and then dies.

[Liat_ravensong]

Ok bring it in on Tuesday, Find me in the Liabry at break
CIAO!
:)

[Burb]

THE FADING SPRING

I see the endless spring of life beneath the forest floor of tragic reason.
The song of peaceful sparrows show us the way to the river.
Entering this river of tranquility we leave behind memories of pure sundom
with the belief of a change of emotion that lies in this uncharted world
and as the spring begins to dry, so does hope, our precious lifegiver.
Come with me to the icey sea,
where the sun shines bright,
where the angels fly,
Fly away to where the treetops sway,
To where the river ends,
To where the world begins.
Show me the world I’ve always dreamed of,
Allow me to share it with my beautiful culture,
Show them the fruits of my labour,
not for recognition
For peace

[Lantarion]

Little Ivor heard his mother:
"Time to go to bed!"
"Nay, old woman!" cried the lad
and fell upon his head

"Come now, son, you need your rest"
she said and waited by
"Begone, O evil witch!" he yelled
and swiftly ran awye

Then smiling did the mother look
now at her fleeing whelp
Then giggling watched she as her son
let cry an angry yelp

"O crone, ye queen of pain and grief!"
cried Ivor as he sprawled
"My arm is snagged by thorns," he said
and on all fours he crawled

Then mother, walking to the house
called, "Come on, you tired heap"
"I, weary? Ha!" cried Ivor then
and then he fell asleep

[Tar-Ancalime]

hehe very funny Lant...( i miss calling you ponty)...

[Lantalasse]

ok this is my first post here, i'd like to say that some of the poems are amazing...i especially enjoyed Ciryaher's, great job.
ok my poetry is always a bit sad...so here it goes

WALK IN THE AIR

It’s empty again
It’s empty
I travel
Through clouds alongside mist and fog transparent
I sit
On a bench
I scribble some words on the grass
I paint the trees with irrelevant frosty colours
-a sigh-
the winds
-above-
in light drizzling drops,
-dancing-
underneath the landscapes,
the dirt washes away.
It’s empty again
Nothing empties Everything
I walk alone and breathe the seconds passed
I walk alone

[Lantarion]

Wow, that was great, Lantalassë! (I won't tell you what that means in Finnish :rolleyes: ) Very symbolic, excellent imagery.
I think it's time for some less jolly poetry..

The Grass
Scorch the earth and burn the sky
Freeze the corn and crush the rye
Rent the earth and boil the Sea:
Love the grass, while all is free

Kill the birds and slay the steeds
Drown the swans among the reeds
Murder all thy friends and kin:
Run still on the grass and sing

Crush your dreams and join the croud
Do not talk not shout aloud
Drones, for all eternity:
Love the grass, while all is free

[Merlin]

Here are my two latest war/flight very short poems, tell me what you think and which one you like best. If you dont know what bloody april was... it was the bloodiest month of the first war, the british lost many pilots. Richthofen alone had 21 air victories (the most) bringing his total to 52.

http://merlinx29.virtualave.net/new_poems.htm

[Lantalasse]

that was really nice Lantarion, "crush your dreams and join the croud" :)
anyway thanks for liking it...but tell me what does lantalasse mean in finnish? i actually invented it from to quenya words lanta-lasse, or something like that. i wanted it to mean "fallen leaf" sounding a bit like a native american name :)

[HLGStrider]

This really belongs in the Prancing Pony.

You should ask a mod to move it.

They are very nice poems, however. I like your meter style.

[Halasían]

What is this that we have?
This love that flows so deep?
Though crushing it can be to my spirit,
when its a love I cannot keep.

But what price do we pay
Will we pay for our heart?
And the sun is a bit darker today
for I had to play my part.

Where does love go when it dies?
when words are lost, and the tears cry?
and the feeling is gone leaving a shell
and hollow is life, who can tell?

Can a leaf, dry and withered,
regain new life from the branch it is tethered?
No, it falls to the ground at a touch,
and is crushed underfoot, into dust.

When the heart is cold, and life is dim
her hand touched me, and new love did begin
and I awoke from the dust, and love grew again
And bright was my days!

[7doubles]

jesus had crossed eyes long blond hair so superfly, got holy hands, holes in his sides with bloody tears for the world he crys
but he cant feel no pain, no matter how hard he tries. and nothings gonna change, untill the last man dies
jesus drives a pick up truck made out gold, two thousand years ago he was thirty years old
but he still gets first picks of the hundred million chicks
because if he could choose only one, he'ld proubably be the first mormon

"big daddy christ'[unfin]

[Lady Rían]

Snowy! That was a wonderful poem! So deep and yet a little sad. It touches my heart, so I wrote a reply. I hope you dont mind. I would love to hear more of your work.


Like a Pheonix rising up from the ash
Your heart it beats again
Feeling the touch of the truest love
So rare in the world of men

You've been given a second chance
To live and love so deep
A special bond some experience
And only a few shall keep

What price do we pay, Do we pay for our heart?
And where does love go when it dies?
Locked away the heart grows cold
But wait! An unexpected surprise!

So stand close to her and take her hand
Whatever will be will be
Don't give up if the times get tough
For love is still the key


Only the touch of a love so true, can even begin a love anew!


Thanks for sharing Snowdog, hang on to this one! She's a keeper! ;) I hope this time its a happy ever after! ;)

[Halasían]

Wow! Thanks dear! But shouldnt the last part say:

So stand close to me and myhand
Whatever will be will be
Don't give up if the times get tough
For love is still the key

[Lady Rían]

Ah Yes! Thank you dear! :D :D That sounds much better!
(((Hugs)))

[Lantarion]

I jumped over a wall one night
and hardly did I see
For dark it was; deprived of sight
I crashed into a tree

I leaped upon a bush one time
to see if it would hold
And though the ladies cheered me on
it was a pinch too bold

I tried to clear a little stream
and it was wide as hell
I took a running start, it seems
then stupidly, I fell

From now on if I see a road
I hasten t'wards the lane
For through my cuts, both short and long
I found the greatest pain

[Halasían]

I agree with you Lady Rían.

Fair lady, wrapped in silken white
you come to me in this dark night
and touch my heart, ever so cold
and you, in my arms I enfold

Fair lady, wrapped in silken blue
my heart, it reaches out to you
and I feel your love wrap around me
and your lips brushing mine, now I see

That I had waited for you all my days
and to be in your presence, I love your ways
and with you, my heart stays
even when apart.

Beloved lady, all wrapped in silken red
dancing softly, shining, hands caressing my head
I love thee Lady, with all my heart
and may it be we will never part.

[j0n4th4n]

ive made some adjustments now:

She's young in the night light
red from breezy rain splashed
splittingly, sparingly
and cool air
Hair messed gently
black strands trailing in
rainfall whispers
Will my courage stand? As
I hope to make
it like it was?
Lets talk like we used
to. Lets talk like we used to?
We're drifting, drifting
on a sea of quietness, smoothly
ignoring each others
presence
inexorably floating, separating
But I don't want to!! I don't
want to fall away, but I
fear you do; so I'm silent
And I can't think what
to say, to keep you
, love
Time was when we spoke
our eyes would gravitate
singularly,
and blend together
and trap each other's sight
But now...
But now...

Wait though,
one night well into
our indifference our
eyes brushed racing again,
we slowed, held bravely
like tender magnetism
stayed
awkwardly (it was starker
than previous).
But there. It was a
semblace to weeks past.

[j0n4th4n]

i liked the ideas expressed in it and the gentle whistfulness of it

criticism? allow grammar and puntuation into your writing!

[j0n4th4n]

lantalasse - great!!

[7doubles]

well here i am
the time is now
we made the plan
its time to go
now, remember i'm with you
you're in trust
our hord grows
togather
stardust

"nicole"

[Liat_ravensong]

Um v good but it does still need looking over!
:D

[ElvishHellion]

i like it

[greypilgrim]

Bill the Troll steps over towards the two poems....

OOC__Bill is a mute and from the Mts. to the North, near Angmar. He is 12 ft. tall. He carries a 6ft. hammer upon his shoulder...a long chain is wrapped around his neck many times. He looks angered.

IC__Bill steps over towards the two poems. He picks them up and reads them quickly....:confused:.

He decides he likes them a little and wants to keep them. Bill folds the two poems up and stuffs them into a small purse attached to a belt around his waist, and makes off with them!

Of course, Bill isn't very fast... But if anyone decides to get in his way during this "poetry thievery" he will run them over.

Also, if either HLG Strider or Merlin decide to try to stop his escape, Bill has decided that he will defend his "new treats"
savagely...hammer, chain...and tooth. :eek: Bill is very fond of poems, espescially these two!

OOC__He's a loner and likes to read sometimes while upon the hard roads and ways of Middle Earth...If you want your poems back Merlin, you WILL have to fight Bill for them.

Have a good day you two,
-Grey:D

[Merlin]

Merlin backs out of the room with a frightened look on his face :confused:

:D

[7doubles]

i believe in
alternative reason
modevates you to lie
damn that evil smile

your lips shift
that naughty grin
wolven plastic inosence
blink, twinkle eye
damn that evil evil smile


hangen allover the town
can be
like wearing crooked crown
if you think your getting over me
baby you better look out
watch out
time, we used to kick it around
burn the night till dawn
but my baby lost a step and setteled down
where did we ever go wrong
god i love her wicked style
god damn that evil smile

"black lipstick"[unfin]

[7doubles]

crusen down the street in my five point o
see the cops
sling shot the rocks out the window
my main man ron b on double base
tricken out the rolls jonas crunchen up the place
deno d put the power to the blow
what do you know
moven it slow
fast cash on the dash
lets move on the get go
brother there aint no love in that
pushen grass up through the crack
sidewalk shuffel swing poise
growen up crooked with my corner boys
that noise
loomen up inside you
that noise
screaming bells and whistles in your head
get down get on the ground right now move an your dead
coming back to reality handcuff brutallity
enough said!
now i'm back to the bars instead
stead,
back to te bars instead
code red
and the boss man said
"so you think your cool
i'm not a fan
of ya sneaken round town like the repo man
the slimjim is the tool of the trade
ya get a block punk think ya got it made
got them pioneer subs, blasten, in, your, ears
you salmbed down on the break
turn down the beat for the siren you fear
so dont cry when ya wonder why here
hear here
all rise for the honerable judge griff
here's a Chais sir, o.k split
and send the high denomination bills to swiss
hay tommy g
tell em what it be
seven doubles on the side, superfly thats me
lifes a cake walk darling
lifes a swingin disco party
but like TJ Hooker you you were heather tarty


"stolen youth" [unfin]*<word carnage>

[j0n4th4n]

im not sure i like my poems very much. they seem a bit pretencious. oh well.
i think ill try to simplify my writing style.




"pretencious, moi !?'':D

[7doubles]

i'm sorry, i didnt like it. i could not relate to it, i had no clear understang of the meanging of the poem.it was lacking substance. instead of telling how you feel, tell why you feal the way you feel

fellow poet, 7doubles

[Lantarion]

Emerging through the waves
slowly turning to walk away
To breathe again the scents
of life

Footprints sink into wet sand
and lay sleeping to be washed away
By the sea, ever-relentless
in its dreams

Let the darkness smile in me
and shut my fears away
Carrying me slowly from this breath
into life

[Jon]

7doubles - yes i agree with you! its too personal and admitedly confusing for anyone but me (cause i know what its about). i wrote it mostly for my own sake, and i agree with you that it wasnt the best poem to post.
actually, i think the reason why poetry isnt as successful as say, novels or music is because most of the time they are to personal.

oh, btw, Jon and j0n4th4n are both me

[legolasismine]

Legolas

I wandered once through leaves of green,
Slipped past silent, ancient trees.
The branches o'er made a shaded screen,
Silken flowers, hum of bees.
I found you there, quiet and still.
Lying, sleeping near the stream.
Peaceful face, eyes were closed.
Skin so soft, pale as cream.
I didn't dare disturb your sleep,
So I waited, quiet sighs.
Admired your form, so tall and strong,
Dreaming of your azure eyes.
My Elven Prince what do you see?
In your dreams that you keep.
No longer love, can I wait-
So I rouse you from your sleep.
Kneeling down, I can't believe...
It's really you.
I hear you breathe.
Soft and sweet, your lips I kiss.
A lifetime waiting...
Just for this.
You wake and look right at me
Tell me now,
What do you see?
Those Elvish eyes, deep and blue.
Take my heart,
Fair and true.
Your hands reach out, your lips they smile.
You caress my hair,
And all the while..
That Elven tongue, sounds so sweet
I hear you whisper
Our lips, they meet.
Lying we two, in a meadow fair.
Love on the breeze..
He kissed me there.
The sun, she fell behind the clouds,
Stars gave their twinkly glow.
You held me close, in your arms
Told me of your Elven bow.
Spoke to me of wars gone by.
Battles fought by dwarves and men,
How the injustice made you cry,
Of all the ages that had been.
Then came a hush, and all stood still
You held my face in your hands.
You swore to me eternal love,
Vowed your heart, you rose to stand.
One promise now you gave to me,
Eternal, faithful..
Your one I'd be.
So when you sail to those foreign shores,
Elven boats to chase the tide,
Let me be there, fairest one,
Always, love, by your side.
There to meet the years that pass,
That leave no trace on you or me,
First, forever and the last,
Forever love, that's what we'll be.

Its long I know but worth it

[e.Blackstar]

Mine's not as good as yours and it doesnt rhyme, but here goes:



Smaug and the Bowman

Smaug,king of dragons,
Wheels and soars through the sky.
Moonlight dances on crimson scales,
Leaving a fiery trail emblazoned on the heavens.


Standing alone,a stalwart man,
Watches all others flee into blood-soaked waters.
A black arrow he holds,
And Smaug's fate is sealed.

A deadly arrow,
A fiery night,
One brave man and a ruined town.

[HobbitGirl]

<applaudes> Bravo, Treyar! :D

One I just pulled out of nowhere that has yet to gain a title...


Bright things are failing; a Shadow dims the Light
The Black Hand covers many things with his might.
But the world will not fall so long as those who stand
Have the strength and will to stand up to the Hand.
Even if it takes my life you know I'll try
For I know this will pass by and by.

[e.Blackstar]

Not bad yourself, HobbitGirl

My sister is a REALLY REALLY REALLY good poet

[7doubles]

the true mans hart is gold
the solgers will is mighty bold
the old mans strength is in his sons
and a leaders strength is in his guns

"1:34 A.M"

[Aglarthalion]

I haven't posted here in a long while, so my apologies to those who may have wanted to read some more of my poetry. Here is a poem I wrote a few days ago.

---

A Farmer's Son

A farmer's son went off to war,
When July was cold and grey.
He did what he was told to do,
There was little he could say.

With men he'd never met before,
To a place he'd never heard,
He never knew the reason why,
But he never said a word.

He didn't know the foreign foe,
And as August days came round,
The sun had burned his boyish face,
But he never made a sound.

He never heard that silent word,
Or the way that it destroys,
He felt the pain as soldiers do,
But he never made a noise.

A farmer's son on a sandy hill,
His life has ebbed away,
He dreamed of home in a wasted land,
There was nothing he could say.

---

Edit: There were a few silly typos which I have corrected.

[Lantarion]

Wow, that was great Aglarthalion! Almost humorous in the beginning, but biting and satirical at the end.. Well done!

Upon the fields the Sun so gleams
and sets the air ablaze
And green though once the grass had been
it slept beneath its gaze

Upon the fields the rains so fall
and drench the silent moor
And as the blades of green are swept
they sleep, through crack and roar

Upon the fields the snows so lie
that fell from open airs
And under freezing quilt of white
the meadows know no cares

Upon the fields a thousand feet
thus iron-shod and grim
And red will fall the woes of men
though fields mean nought to him

Upon the fields a silence cries
and whistles, dead as glass
For now he woke, but oh too soon
for burned is now the grass

[Jesse]

Hello everyone. My friend is a recognized poet. If you wish to check out his website, go to http://poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?sitename=poetry1232&item=poetry&password=. Please give him feedback! His poems are spiritual ones. Tell him Jesse told you about his site. He'll appreciate it. Thank you all!

[7doubles]

in lines that streched from east to west
they mached for life yet found their death
apon the trail of tears they fled
beyond the path of the greatful dead
an oath was made, a pact was formed
an on that day a curse was born
all is lost, none are saved
no exceptions, all shall pay

"indian song" :unfin

[Lantarion]

7, do you ever finish any of your poems/songs? :D

[7doubles]

this is information memory, i will some day clean it up. insiration moments captured just need refining..:cool:

[HobbitGirl]

Dreaming...

I stare at the clouds
As they go racing by
Drifting in tufts and torrents
And I dream of love.

I hear the wind
Sighing through the branches
Passing under swaying willow
Where I dream of love.

A beautiful day
The sweet air smells of spring
A lark sings in my aspen
As I dream of love.

But love I have not
My One I cannot find
Though I know he is out there.
Still I hope for love.


Not very good, I know, but what the heck.

[reem]

ehm ehm...ok, i'm not a member, but i just wrote my first ever metered poem and i just wanted to gloat a bit....so here goes:)

"Not So Peaceful After All"

Shadows sinking in the evening,
Starry brightness gently gleaming,
Shallow waters silently streaming,
All is quiet, All is dreaming.

In the darkness Evil creeping;
All is heedless, All is sleeping.
Through cracked windows slowly seeping,
Witless lives it is now reaping.

In the morning Some are waking,
From their eyes sleep they are shaking.
Soon like feathers they are quaking
At the sight of the Undertaking...

Life goes on for those uncaring,
While the 'Some' are all dispairing.
They don't care how others are faring;
Thus life goes so stop comparing.

reem

[Lantarion]

Battlefield
Upon the lands where an evil still feeds
the kingdoms and fiefs of carrions
Distorted and mangled, they sleep
and dream of nightmares

Eyes wide and mouths voiceless scream
can nobody hear them weep?
Rivers of red border islands of metal
silver-plated and dull

Broken heirlooms, cracked by hate
ideas are scoffed at, being buried
Memories, though upheld, are dead
they took everything from themselves

Will the meadows adopt this unholy place?
will they halow it with grass..
And will the skies have pity with rain,
and holy waters there amass?

[e.Blackstar]

A sailor I was, a long lost breed,
Too proud and willful to follow a lead.

No more shall I see my beloved ship,
Feel her deck bounce and dip.

A lady was she, a faithful friend,
Not with words shall my heart now mend.

Her lines were clean, no mar or stain,
Her hull went skimming o'er the deep blue main.

Her clean white sails billowed tight,
A lantern hung aloft for light.

My heart is broken, she is gone,
Sailing into the stormy dawn.

She on the sea, I on the shore,
I turned away forevermore.


"Not very good perhaps, but to the point, if you need more beyond the word of Elrond. If it was worth a journey of a hundred and ten days to hear, you had best listen to it." :D

[Diamond.T]

This is a poem I made up. It is Pippin poem to Diamond.

The wind blows from the west with my love by my side as the clouds pass us by. Her feather like brown hair brushes across my sholder. I draw her close for the wind gets to her. I take a look at her and she closes her eyes with content. And I know I will never forget this moment. My journey draws me from her. So in these last days that I can hold her I know that one day are love will be full. So I leave her now with all the moments and love that I can give her.


Love,
Peregrin Took

Well I hope everyone likes it.:D

[Lonna]

The publishing world is a Tower
Guarded by the Dark Lord.

If you can't get in the Big Black Gate
Like Frodo
Find another way.

[faila]

I wil see my brethren here
and I will see them there
and for sure I will see them in the air
I will see them in the sky
I will see them oh so high
that trumpet will sound
and I am heaven bound

I see my enemies here
and I see then there
but I wil not see them in the air
I will not see them in the sky
I will not see them oh so high
for that trumpet will sound
and I am heaven bound

I may not see him here
and i may not see him there
but I will see Jesus in the air
I will Him in the sky
I will see him oh so high
for that trumpet will sound
and I am heaven bound
for that trumpet will sound
and I am heaven bound

new poem from me.

[7doubles]

and though we lay the flames will rise
to kiss and lick the smoke filled sky
screams and crys why bullets fly
and find their mark where soldgers die
to know the pain and hell of war
and hear deaths knock apon the door
to face ones fear and not to hide
is the iron will of a warriors pride!

"the Eagle" :fin

[BlackCaptain]

Ok, so we had to devise poems for the book No Promises in the Wind wich we are currently reading in class right now (Which is taking away from my LOTR time :mad: ) And of course, my whole class knows I love LOTR... (Check the thread in the Lord of the Rings section about 'How can someone not know Tolkien?!' er somethin like that). My poem was a variation from my favorite:

(You have to have some knowledge on this book to understand this poem)

Joshua G the farmyard king
Of him the pianists sadly sing
of the last who's realm was fair and free
in the unhomely house of Stephan G.

His rake was long, His plow was keen
His shining tractor afar was seen
The countless stars and thier soft glow
Reflected upon his iron hoe

But long ago he rode away,
Now where he dwelleth, none can say
For in despair he left his home
Into the south, where shadows roam

If you remember the Gil-Galad poem from the Knife in the Dark chapter, you can see my variations, and my similarities.

Now the funny part about all of this, is that as soon as I finished, my whole class started laughing (not making fun of me; I get along with everyone) cuz they knew it wasnt original. I still got a good grade, cuz I assured them it only had the same rythym of the LOTR poem, but I, along with everyone knew that I dodged the bullet of my teacher.

How was my poem? This is really a thread about how well I changed the poem to match the No Promises... prompt; I thought i'd just tell my story for fun. :D :rolleyes: How is my poem?

[Lonna]

Lantarion,

I liked your Ezekiel monk poem.
Here is a little poem of mine:

“Woman on a Cliff”
I am a woman standing on a cliff.
Wind rises from below,
from the dark and far crevasse.
Upon my face and hair it sings
blowing out my scarf like wings.

I cannot see the bottom of the cliff.
Rocks and slopes and trees
reach down in shades of gray and green.
And if they form a bridge
they stay unseen.

But I’m not frightened now
to stand here at this dizzy height.
I look up to the Summit where
the clouds half cover crystal peaks
and sunrise turns the snow to light.

I am a woman standing on a cliff.
At any time my feet could slip
and pull me fast
upon the razor tip.

But, oh, the view!
The view is worth the coldest risk.

[Lantarion]

Haha, I wrote that over a year ago! I'm past the mediaval phase now though.. Thanks for the feedback. :D
Incredible poem by the way, "Woman ona Cliff".. :eek:

Imagination
Sit and sing through an emerald mask
tie yourself to a burning mast
Quiver like the Maytime rains
oh, little else of thee I ask!

Blink away the roaring seas
dance amid the silver bees
Shiver like a hidden brook
oh, thou who through horizons sees!

Travel through the laughing grass
watch the gods bethundering past
Sigh and set the world in ice
oh, thou who sings like broken glass!

Seek a place to soundly dwell
plant there thy eternal well
Sleep and dream, and feel ye free
oh would thou come and live in me?

[Idril]

Very good - I like it:) What's a metered poem?

[Kementari]

Heres a poem I wrote, its the same style as the Lay of Leithian. I know that some of the words dont techincally rhyme, and I'm trying to figure out how to improve it. Bare with me I stink at writing poems

Titanic

On April the 6th, by some chance of fate
Her passengers at Southampton stood in wait.
She glided across the sea to shore,
as shall be remembered forevermore;
She rose a hundred feet from the waves,
worthy of the White Stars proudest raves.
Her black hull, foam crested, was glistening,
as her passengers stood listening
to the mighty roar of her engines strong
as they are still recalled in many a song.

Bursting with excitement they boarded the steamer,
and what they saw amazed even the wildest dreamer;
such elegance and luxury,
had never before been found at sea.
A glass dome roofed the grand staircase,
with a great carven clock placed at its base.
The cabins were all trimmed with silk and lace,
Glittering lights beamed on every face.
In the dining rooms they ate with there peers,
while beautiful music filled their ears.

There were libraries, and gymnasiums;
The passengers surely thought they beheld Ilium.
But on the night of the 14th there joy turned to dread,
When many were woken suddenly in bed.
That night the ocean was calm and still,
And the sea air had a freezing chill.
Lookout Fleet had saw it draw near,
And he called to the bridge-his voice full of fear.

But it was too late, it was certainly fate;
As the roll of the dice, the ship struck the ice.

She began to flood horribly fast,
Mr. Andrews predicted, a few hours would she last.
The Captain ordered that the lifeboats be filled,
While below the decks men strived that the fires and water be stilled.
The first class were loath to leave for little they did know,
While the third class passengers were trapped below.
Then when the bow began to sink the panic began,
The passengers distraught, all screamed and ran,
Fighting to board the lifeboats,
While the band on the deck stilled strummed cheerful notes.
But there was not enough room in the boats for all,
Great would be the cost of her fall;
Sadly Phillips sent out their distress call.

The lights of the ship and the stars did blaze,
While there minds were filled with an awful black haze.
When the lifeboats were gone all ran to the stern,
and they clung to the rails, while she began to turn-
a great summersault, diving front first beneath the wave
pulled towards her watery grave.
Then she split in to, and the lights went out,
The stern fell back, water splashed about,
then she rose up again, and began slowly to sink,
While the people clung on and could do nothing but think:
About past times, there friends, family, and true-loves,
But there was comfort, for there souls would be lifted on the wings of doves,
To the Kingdom of Heaven, safe and free;
And at 2:20 she the onlookers could no longer see,
She had vanished deep beneath the sea.

[Ledreanne313]

Hail. I have Wrote a Poem called:
Silver Rain

Please read this and tell me what you think!

Gray bark shines like silver,
Green leaves change to gold,
The moon grows black with a shadow,
The sun burns low, I’m told.

The sky goes orange at dawn,
And turns deep blue at midnight,
The sea waves turn green with shadows,
With White Sea birds high in flight.

The grass sparkles sky blue with dew drops,
The flowers shine red with the sun,
The mountains shimmer white with the morning light,
And with gray clouds at their snow tops.

A young maiden, fair, lived in this beautiful field,
As she drank from the silver streams from the hill tops,
The tall trees encircled this small, joyous valley,
Like green giants; her protection, her shield.

She lived forever in her valley, her age to high to count,
For she was young in face but lived many years,
She was known only as Silver Rain ***
For she sat alone in this valley, shedding silver tears.

I have not completed the story yet. This is just how far I got so far!
*** I need help with this line. It does not sound right at all. I must of changed it ten times. It does not have to rhyme with anything. It just needs to tell that she is known as Silver Rain. If you have any ideas, please help me.

BE HONEST!! If you do not like it, tell me. If you do tell me. Tell me everything you thought about while you were reding this (that was about the poem, no personal thought of other things).

*Also, this is not meant to be 'middle Earthy' at all. It's just a poem that I have written.

Anne

[Eliot]

It's very beautiful. Very nice. I can't figure out what I'd put in that "***" either. Sorry.

[Lantarion]

*speechless*

[reem]

thanks:d took me forever to come up with it!...it's probably pretty mediocre to some people, but for my first try i must say it looks good:p
a metered poem is a poem that has a...well it's kind of like a special tune that it follows thoughout all the lines. for example, an anapestic poem would have to follow a stress unstress, stress unstress, stress unstress and so on. i only know about the metre because i was studying for GCE litterature. but not many people know about it. it's like a rythem of strtesses and unstresses that a poem follows...does this make any sense?? well, i'm the last person who should be explaining this, i didn't even go through with my lit. IGCSE's.
but if you reread my poem you'll notice the following rythem:

stress unstress stress unstress stress unstress stress
sha- dows sin- king in the eve-

unstress
ning ......

it goes on like this throughout my entire poem...:) hehe, when i first showed my english teacher my other normal (non-metered) poems he was like "this isn't poetry! this sounds like a dead carcass being dragged down a stair case!! db dbb dbdbdb..dbdbd..dbdbdbd...db..dbdbd!! that's what it sounds like."
well, i must admit i was a bit offended--naturally--because i really believed that what i had written was pretty good. but then after i learned about the meter, i saw what he meant. he's a good teacher...but not very subtle! i had to learn stuff the hard way:( but at least i know i'll never forget them;)
reem

[Kementari]

Originally posted by Lantarion
*speechless*

that bad, huh? :o

[7doubles]

i think he liked it.

[Idril]

Originally posted by reem
it goes on like this throughout my entire poem...:) hehe, when i first showed my english teacher my other normal (non-metered) poems he was like "this isn't poetry! this sounds like a dead carcass being dragged down a stair case!! db dbb dbdbdb..dbdbd..dbdbdbd...db..dbdbd!! that's what it sounds like."


lol, that's brilliant!
anyway got it - meaning the beats sorta thing, not heard it called that before - maybe I'm just losing some grey cells...
Keep on writting though - it only gets better the more practice you have.
:)

[Ledreanne313]

Thank You So Much!!!

[Lonna]

Lantarion, thanks for the nice comments about my "Woman on a Cliff" poem.
I liked the "Titanic" poem too.

[Lonna]

Lantarion, I liked your "Imagination" poem. Nice line lengths, images.

Kementari, try using shorter lines--get rid of words that aren't absolutely necessary. Say each line out loud and listen to how it flows. Even count the syllables and their beats. cut so much rhyme. Maybe just rhyme the last 2 lines. Show; don't tell. Always create an image with your words, so that the reader sees what is happening.

Don't I sound like an English teacher?

[7doubles]

lonna wona bo bonna bananna fana fo fonna

[Kementari]

Originally posted by 7doubles
i think he liked it.

:eek: :eek:

Thanks and thanks for the advice Lonna. I copied the rhyming scheme completely from Tolkiens "Lay of Leithain" but I didnt try to do anything with sylables and *alot* of the verses are to long

Everyones poems here are really fantastic and unique, i can read one without looking at the posters name and think "thats definatly Lanty". I cant possibly praise every single one. You are all so talented i feel pretty outa place

[Ledreanne313]

Other poem:

The Trees Sway

In the wind, the trees sway
As it blows hard in my face
The leaves shimmer in the light of day
In the wind, the trees sway
The wind listens as I say:
'Here my voice, quicken your pace'
In the wind, the trees sway
As it blows hard in my face.

Thanks to my LA teacher and assigning the poetry project. I think I'm the only one to finish all 14 poems in less than 3 days and the only one that actually enjoyed it:p !

[arisen pheonix]

death in darkness do i seek
only cravens see me creep
through these shadows
i am forced to keep

[Lossengondiel]

Forgive me if this is bad or whatever, but I am still pretty new to writing poetry. Any helpful advice or comments would be appreciated...

Sad green eyes
Under golden hair which
Falls down her shoulders and in
Front of her face
Emotions conquering all before she turns and
Runs into the night.

Night after night she
Often returns to this place

Mourning her lost love
Of her childhood years
Remembering
Every tear she ever cried for him that

Many
Years ago, and the tears he never cried for her.

Losing the
One you love the most is
Very hard to accept. You think, why couldn't
Everything have been different?

[reem]

:d thanks:) will do for sure!....with a few years interval between each poem!! even my amazingly intelligent bran can't manage more than one origional metered poem a life time!!
oh well, ta:)
reem

[BlackCaptain]

No? Mmkay...

[Wonko The Sane]

A Gollum Poem I wrote for the Guild of Outcasts. :) (http://www.thetolkienforum.com/showthread.php?postid=284262#post284262)

That's a really bad Gollum poem I wrote for the GOO. :)
Read and puke!

[Aragorn12345]

this is a couplet only 2 rhyming lines.

In the eyes of a man no more than a kid
even tho he was small, look what he did

"he" of course refers to Frodo and "what he did" refers to destroying the ring
(forgive me its awful)

[Lantarion]

No it's quite nice! It's a great start for something a little longer. ;)

Kem, you needn't feel out of place, you're a wonderfully aesthetic poet. And yes I loved the Titanic -poem! :)


It's not too dark yet:
I can still run
Happily flee from old agony
and do it on my own

It's not too bright yet:
I can still breathe,
Still quietly think and sleep on the brink
and dream on my own

It's not too cold yet:
I can still love
Escaping, I weep, and voicelessly leap
over the sky on my own

It's not too late yet:
You can still try
The walk is not long, where the small roads belong;
but you shan't be on your own

[Lantarion]

Excellent poem, Reem! :eek:
When I write poetry I often use mixed meter.. If executed properly, AABA is wonderful; ABAB is great as well, but it is easy to accidentally make the rhyming sound too forced. In a recent poem I wrote I used a very weird meter.. something like AB(CC)D and EF(GG)D. I just made up the bracket thing, it means that there are two rhyming words on the same line.. Aww heck just go over to the 'Poetry' thread and read it if you really want to. :p

Wow, what a nasty teacher you have! Our old English teacher had a bit of trouble spelling (don't laugh!) but he was an excellent teacher, one of the best I've had. Anyway, he spent a LOT of time on the meter of poems with us, so it sort of stuck. :)

[Lossengondiel]

Does anyone have anything to say about my horrible nasty poem? Any helpful advice on how to make it better would be QUITE appreciated please :D

[Lantarion]

Oops, I thought I did before.. Sorry. :)
It really caught my eye with the 'hidden' sentence (which was very beautiful), and the rhymeless and carefree structure fits well with the theme, IMO. Very nice poem, all in all. :)

[Lonna]

I liked the first few lines especially because they have images. Try for more images (like brown hair in the face) that create pictures in the reader's mind and show the emotion of lost love. Maybe some item that reminds you of the lost one (his favorite oak tree where you used to meet or an old, beat-up book or something).

[Lossengondiel]

Thank you for your comments and advice :) I'll remember that for my next poem

[reem]

Originally posted by Lantarion
Excellent poem, Reem! :eek:[/QOUTE]
Thanks!!! I like you for this!! haha!


Wow, what a nasty teacher you have!
well he wasn't really nasty...just...well...ok so he was nasty, but he sure knows how to get the info. into our mulled brains:p

[qoute]Our old English teacher had a bit of trouble spelling (don't laugh!) but he was an excellent teacher, one of the best I've had. Anyway, he spent a LOT of time on the meter of poems with us, so it sort of stuck. :)

hehehehehe:p i like this teacher of yours:) i bet he was really liniant with you when it came to speeling mistakes!! i wich our teacher was like that, i have horrible spelling. you must have noticed a few mistakes here and there if you ever read any of my other posts (not counting typing errors).
oh well, i'll just go try to find one of your poems to read now, shall i?
thanks again:)
reem

[reem]

err, Lantarion? i can't seem to find any of your poems anywhere here? are they posted in the prancing pony or somewhere else??
reem

[Kementari]

Thanks Lanty!!!!!! :) Great poem too

I agree, you did a good job Lossengondiel.
It had a nice message and it was clever how you fitted the sentance into the poem.

[Lossengondiel]

I'm not that clever. i just wrote out the message and found words to make it work...

but thanks for the compliments!

[Lonna]

Hey Lossengondiel,

Remember that high school teachers or even college English professors can tell you that what you write is not poetry, but they can be wrong.

It is very difficult to say exactly what a poem is. Poetry has changed shape and form (and sound) over the ages. When American poet William Carlos Williams began writing poetry without ending line rhymes in the early 20th century, most of the established poets of the day were horrified and screamed that what he wrote was not poetry.

Now Williams is accepted as one of the great 20th century poets and included in college textbooks.

Here is one of his simple poems:

"The Red Wheelbarrow"

so much depends upon
a red wheelbarrow
glazed with rain water
beside the white chickens
*********************

That's it--just a few simple images, no rhymes, no great sentiments. Williams was a country family doctor, of all things, and he wrote about spring and flowers and new babies and housewives with their hair hanging down as they walked outside in their nightgowns on an early morning while he drove to work (see a poem called "Spring and All").

You could find his poetry online, no doubt. I say, good for Williams. And good for anyone who wants to write what he or she calls poetry!:D

[Lantarion]

Then Assir took up his four-headed hammer
and smote
the Dream-god where he lay
And the Dream-god, who by mortal men is named Ýndi, broke the seven trumpets that bound
his fingers to the earth. And then four trees wept and turned to water before his eyes.
And Assir felt shameful, and taking his hammer he wrought a boat of ivory and ebony, and set sail across those tree-waters,
that are called the Olosdindri. Upon the shore, that Ýndi had broken with his
golden fingers he begged pardon from the Dream-god, and offered nine nymphs as bribe.
At this Ýndi scoffed but accepted the apology. Then eating the head of Assir he changed his form, and flew
past the winds.


It's not exactly poetry.. But I was inspired by the extremely metaphoric and jumbled course of 'narrative' in a set of fictional books called The 36 Sermons of Vivec, which are part of a sensational game called 'Morrowind'.
You can read the Sermons here (http://12.145.63.45/~xanathar/mwbooks/lessons.shtml). Any questions about the game itself can be directed to me via PM.

[Lantarion]

Try this (http://www.thetolkienforum.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=288959#post288959) thread. ;)
It is the last page, so you might have to sift through quite a lot.

[Aulë]

Brilliant poem, reem.

Is the second paragraph suppost to be an octave lower than the first?
When I sung the song to myself, I naturally sung the first verse at one octave, and sung the next one at a lower octave, before returning to the original octave for the third verse.

[Lossengondiel]

Since everyone seems to be adding their inspirational poetry, here is one of my most favorite and most influential:

O Where Are You Going?
by: W H Auden

"O where are you going?" said reader to rider,
"That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Younder's the midden whose odours will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return."

"O do you imagine," said fearer to farer,
"That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?"

"O what was that bird," said horror to hearer,
"Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease."

"Out of this house" -said rider to reader,
"Yours never will" -said farer to fearer,
"They're looking for you" -said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

Hopefully I'll be able to post an original poem of mine soon

[reem]

Originally posted by Aulë
Brilliant poem, reem.

Is the second paragraph suppost to be an octave lower than the first?
When I sung the song to myself, I naturally sung the first verse at one octave, and sung the next one at a lower octave, before returning to the original octave for the third verse.

thanks:) but no, i don't think that the octave varies anywhere...maybe it depends on how your singing it...when i made it it was based on a very simple repetative tune/octave.
really glad you liked it:D
reem

[reem]

lantarion:p i liked that poem which starts 'it's not too dark yet...':)
i'd be really interested to see more of your work, if you have others:)
reem

[Lantarion]

Every piece of poetry I've ever written is in the 'Poetry' thread.. But there are endless pages of it. I really should start copying them down, in case the site crashes and they're all lost! :eek:

[Lonna]

Lantarion,

Your last post reminded me of some of the images in the New Testament book of Revelation. The Old Testament books of Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel also have some interesting symbolic images too. I admit that I drew from such when I was writing my fantasy story "Selah of the Summit."

[Lonna]

Lossengondiel,

I always loved W. H. Auden. Did you know that he was part of The Inklings, a group of Christian writers who met at Oxford University in the last century? C.S. Lewis and our beloved J.R.R. Tolkien were also part of that group! Sometimes they'd meet in a pub, have a pint of ale, and spend the afternoon sharing each other's writing and giving feedback.

They had no women, though. Wish we could have been there!

Oh, I want to go back to England!

[Lantarion]

Ok I continued the same type of diction, and this following sequence will probably be included in a story I am formulating, or at least in its history and background.
I mean this following passage to be a sort of introduction or first phase of a greater and more vast mythology.


These are the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

And it came to pass that Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, raised his glass hand and unlocked the Four Fathers who had slept since their Dawn. And they who are named Endri, Nothlis, Lomarron and Vit’Rál took up each their shining figures and blessed Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, with the Gift of Death. And they set about the making of a dwelling place, for their city was too vast for them.
Endri broke his capsules with his teeth, and from them issued forth the Olosi, the Four Trees. And seeing Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, lying dead and yet blissful they wept, and turned to water before the eyes of the Four Fathers.
And Nothlis, who is called the Wright, took the boughs of the Olosi and struck them thrice with his hammer Ýmm. A voice resounded that was made manifest, and they spread like forgotten leaves into shapes vast and habitable.
Then Lomarron was puzzled, for the Lands floated at unease amongst the tides of the Olosdindri –waters; so he fashioned for them roots proud and magnificent, that crept under them and fastened them tight. But Nothlis was envious: and dropping his hammer, whilst the others slept, the Lands were splintered beneath their crusts. Lomarron wondered when the Lands wept with towers of fire; so he quenched them with his foot and in those places grew things of green.

Now Vit’Rál saw these things occur, and he never slept. So he called to Nothlis to fashion with Ýmm a globe of unseen white flame, for the things of green had need of it. Nothlis was puzzled, and tried to create this thing; and when he could not he was angered, having been tricked into mockery; but he hid himself, and showed forth merely his embarrasment.
So Vit’Rál pardoned him, and went about the making of the unseen Sky-waters. With his eyes he wrought them, sending spirits to carve the mysteries into writhing forms. Some of these spirits grew tired and fell asleep, and drifted wantonly down towards the Lands. Many were lost in the great Olosdindri –waters, but many landed amongst the things of green, and there slept. When the Sky-waters were complete Lomarron took pleasure in its forms, unseen but vivid. And he set about the banishing of greed from himself, wherefore he made things of different shades and colours and planted them beside the things of green, by whom the spirits slept. Nothlis was a great aid to him then, for Lomarron had little knowledge of living things; and ever the designs of Nothlis were cunningly put into the mouth of Lomarron.

These are the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

The glass hand of Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, did not sleep, but it hid and multiplied. When the tears of the Sky-waters fell to the Lands that were named the Ma’agri, he emerged and broke; his splinters were innumerable, and they dwelt then inside the spirits who slept beside the things of green, and made them mortal. Then they awoke, and saw about them the things of green that were dark and unpitying; and Nothlis laughed in mockery at them, for the ashes and dust of Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, had settled in him and in none else. He mocked the Sky-waters in his heart and bit into the Ma’agri, and they were made turbulent.
Vit’Rál knew of this, and was wrathful, having his counsel scorned. But he knew also the plight of the Awakened Conundrums (for they love and yet destroy), and called again for Nothlis. He came, and his pride was grown to a shape terrible to behold, with horns of self-destruction on his hame. “You call me, maker?” he sneered; and at this Vit’Rál lifted his hand, and Nothlis was fractured into two; the other side was changed to ash and dust, that glided over Ma’agri and there quietly settled; the other was left to sleep in its new form, a spirit still in the making.
And now Vit’Rál called his brother-fathers to him and pleaded them to kill this thing, sleeping and potential. But they would not, and they took a strand from the Earth-roots and bound Vit’Rál, and he let them. Then they fashioned the Sleeping One, with gentle strikes and furious love; and he was ready.
He rose and shimmered; and at that Vit’Rál knew he was humbled. He rose and laughed; and at this Endri smiled, and earth was renewed. He rose and sighed; and at this Lomarron was puzzled, but loved him. His name was Ká.

Witness these the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

[Lonna]

Lantarion,

You have a way with words and mythology that would have made Tolkien proud.

[Lantarion]

Thank you, you humble me.
Here is the next passage, which has some glimpses both at the more complete language I am making and at a more rare tongue that I am only fashioning.


These are the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

Now of Ká, who slept but has risen, can be said: He is quivering and muti-faceted. For his spirit is housed in a million faces, of forms splendorous and excellent, or quiet and humble.
As King of Stars he as presented to the Fathers, of whom he was the last. His corona was of white fire and his eyes of laughing crystal, and nothing could darken him.
Now Ká, who slept but has risen, was called later by the others the Vardári, the Great Friend; for his glance was tuned upon the stirring creatures of the Ma’agri.
“These shall be the lords of the earth,” said he sadly, but blessed them; and they became aware, and they woke. And it was Ká, who slept but has risen, that named them the Awakened Conundrums, from following anecdotes born.

It came to pass that among these confused things, wandering through the things of green in darkness, there was one whom is called only the Her’Aja; he had thought and was awake, and roused his fellows. And the Her’Aja looked to the Sky-waters, from whence they had come, and said: “Can the King of Stars not shed his corona where lands are blind?”
And Ká, who slept but has risen, heard him and was pleased; and he sent his brightest star to travel by the courses of the Ánacoruo, that the Globe was named. But in the lands far from the Ma’agri the ashes and dust of Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, had risen and taken form; and now they leaped as bolts of cackling ice to stop the star from arriving. But Lomarron was watchful, and taking up the old Hammer of Nothlis he struck at the ashes and dust made manifest, and they were smitten. Two parts stayed in the Sky-waters and there abode, growing hard and steadfast; seven parts fell back down, and sung bitterly in the Olosdindri- waters. One part returned to Ká, who slept but as risen, and said the two Words: Órastë indoron! And the World-fathers pitied him; Lomarron have him the shards of Ýmm, Endri spoke words of thanks back, and Vit’Rál blessed him with the Gift of Knowledge. So was born of the ashes and dust of Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, the first of the Angel-kings.

These are the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

But now the Iltinta- star shone brightly from a distance, and its light brought solace to the Awoken Conundrums; the Her’Aja was pleased, and swam over the Olosdindri to the places where the ashes and dust of Îr, he who is enshrouded in smoke, coughed and rested slyly. They were beginning again to dream, and its shape was growing. But Her’Aja was not daunted, and he thought: “It lies there only; yet I am troubled.” So he strode over the barrier-swords and spoke with the ashes and dust, whom he named Ekka. But it spoke first.
“Hail, born one! Well swum,” he sneered; at this Her’Aja was not daunted, but in that hour was vessel to the spirit of Endri, and said: “Know these the words of the Angel-king: Órastë indoron! You are not welcome here.”
And Ekka frowned, whereupon four stars collided and melted. “You will burn, though the light of your eyes is bright.” At that Her’Aja was not daunted, but drew from him the winds of Endri; and spoke the word of Banishment. Such a gale was blown that earth was flattened where it had towered, and seas were hushed. And Ekka was spread as a screaming glimmer over the wide spaces far from the Ma’agri: and so he was stilled.

The waters then flowed in his favour, and harnacing them he came to the soft sands of the Ma’agri.
“Where have you been, and what light is in your eyes?” he was asked.
“Abreast to gods we may exist, yet in ourselves we are undaunted. Órastë indoron!” said Her’Aja, he whose eyes are as of flame.

Witness these the words of Anar’Ji, who was scribe to the Righteous.

[FoolOfATook]

This is the first poem I've written in weeks that I'm anywhere near happy with, which of course means that it's time to publish it and see how many horrendous flaws are in it. ;) I imagine that the T.S. Eliot influence will be rather clear. I'll be interested to see how many people interpret the speaker in the same way that I do.....

The Lament of the Starving Artist
(Being a Dramatic Monologue in Posey)

I was born in the wrong age.
In this era of anxiety no one appreciates genius.
I will never recieve the laurels I so deserve
Never in these post-poetic times.
My sonnets follow in the path that Petrarch,
Herbert, Donne, Spenser and the beloved William
so long ago, so perfectly laid down.
The odes I write could rival Keats or Horace
My cantos equal those of Dante and Pound.
I could have, in discussions literary,
Held my own with the Algonquins or the Inklings,
Have taken part in Shelley and Byrons' games of invention.
I still write works that capture the very soul of man
And it dissect and probe upon the page.
My pen dances to the music of cellestial orbs,
I can hear Prufrock's mermaids when they sing
(I know that they sing for me)
And speak with a voice on loan from Clio herself.
But still I strive alone in a savage land
Where my genius is ignored by the scornful hordes
Doomed to have my songs forever unsung
By those who fail to see what Shelley taught
How poets are the world's unsung legislators.
That poets are called to their vocation
By forces that we attempt to explain to those who don't care.
We put to task of all our arts and gifts
Like alchemists using their potions to cure the sick
We attempt to use our verse to cure society's ills
We struggle and suffer and die in our attempts
To use our craft to save those who once hailed us
Before this brutal and callous and barbarian civilization
Crushed the geniuses, like I, under its heel.

[Lonna]

Lantarion,

Is this all part of a book you're writing? The language you invented is interesting and melodic, like Elvish.

[Ledreanne313]

Please Look At My Poems in 'My Poem' ine The Prancing Pony and post what you think of it. Please also look at 'Poems of a different language' for I have to Quenyan Songs there.

Anne

[Lonna]

Ledreanne313,

Could you post your poem here? That way, it's easier for us to see and comment on.

[Lantalasse]

OK, i'm going to post two poems because i'm generous!:)
anyway this is the first one, it's not exactly a "poem" but i like to take words into different levels, some rhyming some not etc etc.

Carmen 1(as in "poem" in Latin)

The noises swinging around the streetlamps float in boisterous cacophony and angered, repeated moments pass me by like flashes of light.
Coyly you knock on my door, a subtle whisper like Latin mass in an empty church, your language gone and your believers scattered like ashes or drops of poisonous mercury

In silver cups you pour your wine,
On fragile truths you give me mine
Embraced by light and fog and dry eyes,
Caressed by night, by kiss, by cries

Entombed in your symbolism,
The last shooting pain slides like your watery substance
Severed are your smiles and your arms entwine
Tapping now on glazed surfaces and higher windows
Giving birth to the glorious grass, mother of life and sister of solitary lips kissing cold, profane remembrance!
Your thoughts cover my pages, pain is equity between us, your voices wrap my body like a sugar cane,
Oh silent, wistful, failing Rain…

[Lantalasse]

this one is a bit more "personal", but hey, i'll share. :)

As a child

As a child accustomed to sensation
I lay on my back, watched the ceiling thrive
And break upon new ideas, worlds perchance,
Stealing the echoes or the real vibrations
Of the butterfly wings
As they flutter and storm out,
Like the seagull drinking water or maybe fish,
hold or silver around sparkling blues and greens
and others less enjoyable, ghosts of the ilk of ink
patterns and regulations as if kaleidoscopic meant colour-blind
or lilies covering the whole surface of the lake
mighty thunders that make and shake
boundaries
and all that time I knew,
some river might pour me out, to the crescent coast
or a cloud might welcome my drops
water over meadows, cattle herded to the valley,
the hill becoming steep,
I used to sleep,
On a soft bed, fed by blessings, parental and worldly
-Divinity escaped me always-
and constantly, I rebuked, all that rhythm, the pounding sound
the river’s generosity, the cloud’s grey crown
the mist’s allowance of deceit,
counterfeit illusions structured around a circular neurosis
of the ilk of ink.

Now the gestures are gone
The jester played his part, while we laughed he struggled
Astonished at our importance
And his single chance
To make something out of the colours
Of his suit.
Making way for this crust, this new skin
That saw red blood on its fingers, drained
In the factory, where each childish thought
Stains the ground

There I will be found.

[Wonko The Sane]

peace in wind-death
brings song in stained silence
torn by branches
ripped to shreds
for grey bark tea
and healing wisdom
powdered veins
and luminous heartache
grievous overtones of a madman's dreaming
striking the earth with steel
on fire
on stone
bursting with torment
the marrow of life
melts into the simplicity
and complexity
of being
and breathing
and the darkness pours
like grey bark tea
and healing wisdom
to an empty cup
and fades to black

[Lantarion]

Woah, a real burst of symbolism there! :eek:
Lantalassë: wonderful poems! I loved the images you created in the first one, and the insertion of a sort of mini-verse in between really upheld the atmosphere! Well done.
Wonko: pretty grim stuff, but again really vivid images! When I read it I had al these wonderful pictures in my head, but I can't recall them now.. Thank you.

Amplified, like bursting skies
Echoing they tilt my eyes
Burn to heal, then burn once more
And leave my soul upon its shore

Negligent, like sighing shrines
Whispering they scribble signs
All along my sleeping soul
And down, down all the dreams still roll

Thankful, like the silent rain
Painting earth's unsullied hame
Roaming though they creep and dance
They healing give in hallowed glance

Last of all, like warm-roofed sand
Radiating they would stand
Heal to help, then laugh once more
And leave my soul upon its shore

Lonna; thank you! I must admit the tongue does have a hint of Quenya, but though not so much grammatically and vocabularically (?) than as with a similar tone; it has a sort of 'Elvishness' Tolkien expresses through Quenya, but no intended exactnesses. If you want, I can PM you some stuff I have; but it is still very incomplete.

[Lantarion]

Wow, that's good; more an essay than a poem, I think.. But still really good! :)
And thank you for recognizing Ezra Pound with Dante! I think his translations are among the greatest achievements of western literature, along with the Divina Commedia.
The protagonist or speaker of this 'essay' of yours seems to be very self-centered and even a little pompous; but I think he is expressing a true concern about the modern world.
God woik! :)

[Wonko The Sane]

Thank you, Lanty! :)
I really enjoyed your poem. The rhyming is so smooth. :)
This might seem weird but it made me feel blue with sad streaks of yellow. :)
That makes no sense I know...but I experience some things in colors rather than words.

[Lantarion]

Note on the big myth thing: As only one sentence (well two words really :D) is given in the text, I suppose I could explain it/them.
Ór is a sort of natural energy that originates from the Maker-god.. It is in everything and is basically inexplicable; but has its utmost source in the Maker-god, so is often used as a synonym for 'him'.
The -stë ending is a case suffix called an elative: it expresses 'from' or 'whence' (ahem, the corresponding case suffix in Finnish is '-sta'.. ;)).
The next word is a verb, whose basic form is indora, 'to stand against evil'. The -on ending is the first person present tense form, so: I stand/fight against evil.
"From Ór (or "Of Ór"), I stand against [you]."
:)

[Ledreanne313]

Sure, here it is.

Silver Rain:

Gray bark shines like silver,
Green leaves change to gold,
The moon grows black with a shadow,
The sun burns low, I’m told.

The sky goes orange at dawn,
And turns deep blue at midnight,
The sea waves turn green with shadows,
With White Sea birds high in flight.

The grass sparkles sky blue with dew drops,
The flowers shine red with the sun,
The mountains shimmer white with the morning light,
And with gray clouds at their snow tops.

A young maiden, fair, lived in this beautiful field,
As she drank from the silver streams from the hill tops,
The tall trees encircled this small, joyous valley,
Like green giants; her protection, her shield.

She lived forever in her valley, her age to high to count,
For she was young in face but lived many years,
She was known only as Silver Rain ***
For she sat alone in this valley, shedding silver tears.

I have not completed the story yet. This is just how far I got so far!
*** I need help with this line. It does not sound right at all. I must of changed it ten times. It does not have to rhyme with anything. It just needs to tell that she is known as Silver Rain. If you have any ideas, please help me.

Please tell me what you think of it.

Anne

[Wonko The Sane]

Azog iszog azog Orczog
Butzog Azog has no heartzog

[Lantarion]

Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. For Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses, as Moses supposes his toeses to be!
:D
That's one of my favorite little 'poems'; it's from "Singing in the Rain". :)

Ledreanne, your last poem was wonderful! It was poetci and still had a visible strain of an actual 'story' in it!
As for the line you had trouble with, how about:
As Silver-Rain her name was known.
:)

[Ledreanne313]

Lantarion, thanks. I will see if that works. I tried it and it sounds better than the one in there. And Wonko, what's with the Azog is a Orc but Azog has no heart thing?

Anne

[sepdet]

... as a student of Latin poetry, I can't help but oo and ah at the apt caesuras in the last line.


:)

[Lantarion]

Rain
From unseen quivers
and silent string
To darkened earth
and famished spring
Echoing fall the spearheads blue
and shatter, though they deftly flew

"Hail!" the grass and ground proclaim
"Welcome to thy empty claim!"
But neither realm nor kingdom hath
the wanderers of sky-shod path

From palms aloof
and digits blest
To sleeping pools
and dreamy crest
Laughing speed the blesséd shafts
sailing in their crystal rafts

"Hi!" the shallows call aloud
"Why leave did thee thy homely cloud?"
But children of the sky are they
and have no home, nor pointed way

From eyes e'er-bright
and thoughts unheard
To stunted lands
bereft of words
Singing race the lightless lamps
and wake the bleary earthen-camps

"Hark!" the Waken cry to them
"May heaven kiss thy saintly hem!"
But children of the sky they are
quick pass their lives, yet echo far

Like it? :)

[Ledreanne313]

That is very beautiful. I have to say that is one of the best I heard! Well, here is another one. It has a meaning to me, yet I am not sure other will understand.

'...Fly Away With the Wind...'

One day, I will fly away
Yet not with wings upon my shoulders
But with a strong Wind to lift me
I would fly away from this wicked place
Yet, where would I go?
This world is everywhere
There is no escape from here
Yet maybe one day
There will be a place to go
Yet not now, not soon

And for these fates:
The tears of the Wind
Are shed beside my own.

What do you think?
Anne

[Lonna]

Ledreanne313,

I liked your "Silver Rain" poem. It has lovely colors in it. Some of the lines are a bit long. Perhaps you could vary them more--a few shorter ones. As for that one line, how about simply "And she was known as Silver Rain."

Lantarion,

You can PM me some of your writing. I can't guarantee how soon I'll reply, because my life is a whirlwind right now.

Hey, all poets,

Hope you had a Happy Easter. Here is my Easter story (not quite a poem):

We had a lovely Easter on our mountain. From our church yard, you can stand at the edge of the best mountain view--all the way to snowy Keller's Peak, the ski slopes, Big Bear, and Mount San Gorgonio which reaches almost 12,000 feet. Then there's the wilderness beyond . . . And pine trees towering in the sun and lakes reflecting it.

Easter is so joyous. Our church served free breakfast under a tent, and it was sunny and warm for the mountians. Daffodils and tulips were blooming, and there were pots of white roses and lillies. Women and girls wore pastel dresses and hats.

But the best thing was having people we love near us, and Jesus' living words of new life filling our souls. Our pastor taught from the Gospel of John:

"I am the resurrection and the life;
he who believes in me, though he may die,
he shall live."

Jesus said this to Lazarus' sister Martha before He raised Lazarus from the dead (see John 11).

Then, after Jesus was crucified for our sins and buried in a borrowed tomb, can you imagine what that first Easter morning was like? Mary Magdalene, a woman, was the first to go to the tomb and find the guards gone and the huge stone rolled away. She ran to tell Peter and John, the disciples who had been hiding for fear of the Jews. They came and saw inside the tomb, that the linen cloths that had bound Jesus' body were neatly folded, but Jesus was not there. Can you imagine their amazement as they slowly walked back home and discussed the situation? Outside the tomb, Mary waited. She peered in and saw two angels, one at the head, and one at the foot of where Jesus' body had been laid (but still no Jesus). What light must have shown from inside that tomb--greater than a sunrise.

Mary knelt and cried bitterly, and then Jesus appeared to her and asked, "Woman, why are you weeping?" And she finally recognized Jesus and exclaimed, "Teacher!"

And later Jesus appeared to all the disciples who were hiding behind doors, and He said,
"Peace to you!
As the Father has sent Me,
I also send you."
And He breathed on them and said,
"Receive the Holy Spirit."

So Jesus gave His followers the task and power
of spreading the Easter resurrection news
of hope in a world that so desperately needs it.

And John closes his gospel by saying,

"These things are written
that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ,
the Son of God, and that believing,
you may have life in His name." (John 20:31)

Hope you don't mind the sermon.:)

[Ledreanne313]

Thank you kindly, Lonna. I have all ready had that line there, yet, it does not sound right to me. I might shorten the lines a bit, I was thinking of doing that.

Anne

[VioletFalcon129]

I like poems and i like all the poems i have read here. I like to write them too. Here is one i wrote:

When the heart of the moon has died
and the sun has shed her tears
and the lonley stars awake
from the once eternal sleep that kept them
from the worlds about thier realm
then the song of wizards' making
then the tune of fairy lore
then the words of elves and mermaids
cover the earth and drownd it's saddness
they wake it from it's frozen dreams

When hope is not seen
hope is not gone
and the song of the Ashteeria rings
about the sorrowfull expance
bringing the hope back to it's master
bringing the sky towords the horizon
filling the sea bed up with the sea

Then the call of many tounges
many peoples
many races
shall resound about the oceans
shall be heard amoung the trees
and the call of the Ashteeria
shall be heard like bells and singing
telling the joy to fill the anguish
telling life to begin again

i hope you like my poem. :)

[Lantarion]

Oh my, that was .. spectacular!! Absolutely beautiful! :eek: Excellent by all accounts..
What, may I ask, is Ashteeria? :)

Here's a poem I thought of this morning, when I was walking to school. It was quite cold, and yet the Sun was shining blindingly! It annoyed me, so I thought up this poem and scribbled it down as soon as I found a pencil and paper. I obviously edited it a bit later though. :)

Morning Light!
Ah! Begone thou treachorous Sun!
Thy eye is bright but thy heart is dun!
Smile in frozen features worn,
While we upon the earth grow numb!

Ah! Smirk not, thou bitter wheel!
No glint of warmth my fingers feel!
Cold and shut, like star newborn,
Yet still so bright my eyes would reel!

Ah! Sink now 'hind snow-white cloud!
Spare us from thy rays sky-loud!
Smile in frozen features worn,
For still some heat we are allowed!

If you detect a hint of bitterness, you are quite right. :D

[Wonko The Sane]

Originally posted by Lantarion
Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. For Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses, as Moses supposes his toeses to be!
:D
That's one of my favorite little 'poems'; it's from "Singing in the Rain". :)

Ledreanne, your last poem was wonderful! It was poetci and still had a visible strain of an actual 'story' in it!
As for the line you had trouble with, how about:

:)

I LOVE that movie! :) And my mum quoted that line a lot when I was a kid.
She was actually quoting it when I went home for Easter this weekend. :)

[7doubles]

what happened to you
what went wrong
we said we would be friends forever
why did things have to change
it wasn't worth the pain
we were given the gift of each other
for a while
for the time we spent togather
was the greatest of times
our love is now gone
by time you read this letter
i'll be dead and gone
babe
its just a song
hay
life will still go on

now hay hay hay hay
what you gonna do
walk around down in this lonely town
and let them get the best of you
you know its time to take whats yours


unfin

[Wonko The Sane]

That sounds like it could work for a song, but I'd need to hear it to be sure. ;)

And are you sure it meant "hay" and not "hey"? ;)

[faila]

Somtimes life goes bad
Sometimes it makes you sad
a tear might trickly down your face
or many in this case
but life is too precious to take
so live your life
and dont take
it with a nife

Remember at all times his sacrifice
forget not his death
for great was his sacrifice
great was his death

Somtimes life goes good
you know you can and could
a smile lights your face
in many a case
and life is precious to take
so life your life
and dont take
it with a nife



Things will get better, just remember that. (this is more to myself than any one else...)

[Wonko The Sane]

It's knife. :) But other than that great poem!

[Ledreanne313]

Here's another:
Nothing.


Every ight as I lay asleep,
I feel breathing upon my brow
And just as they are about to kiss, I open my eyes.
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep,
I feel a sword on my palm,
And fold in my fingers to grasp the sword
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep,
I feel in my other hand an arrow and bow string
I pull them up and open my eyes to aim,
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep,
I feel the green grass on my feet
I open my eyes to see where I'm going,
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep,
I feel the wind blow leaves in my face
I brush them off and open my eyes,
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep
I feel the mists of the sea,
I wip my face and open my eyes
Yet there is nothing there.

Every night as I lay asleep,
I dream.
I dream of the misats of the sea, the leaves in my face, grass on my feet, an arrow in a bow, a sword in my grasp, and a kiss upon my brow,
Yet I open my eyes and there is nothing there. Nothing.

what do you think?

Anne

[VioletFalcon129]

That was cool Ledreanne!
first, sorry not for telling sooner: an Ashteeria is an ( well i have an idea, i just made it up, but it is something like an angel somewhat like a gaurdiun of joy also like wise being and a little like a heavenly body. you know, a planet or star?) that poem was inspired by three( at least. those are the ones i can think of off the top of my head) great writers: Tolkien, madiline Le'ngle, and my friend Anne a.k.a. Ledreanne.
here is a short poem:

If all has passed away, what is left for nothing to dwell apon?
And if there is everything, than nothing is no more.
not wholely there not wholey gone,
nothing is about us and eons away from us

did that make any sense? oh well.

[VioletFalcon129]

I NEED to write a long poem!!!!!
*fare means food

so here one is:

Look apon the garden fair
look closely
my little friends abound there

Feel the flutter of thier wings
look closely
or you will not see them

call to them
listen for them
see if they will answer
for they shall be about thier bussiness
be it you
or be it not

lift the leaves to find thier dwellings
open roses to find their fare*
pull the twine of careless spider
for it is the thread they wear

give them gifts and five them treasures
leave them cups of shining dew
follow thier footprints
if you can see them
watch them dance when the moon is new

carefull, as you enter their country
they will trick you if you do not watch
keep your eyes like that of a hawks
and see if they don't trt to catch you

be kind to the small folk
treat them warmly
they may toy with your fate
and see if you enter their tiny world
if the fairies don't try to catch you.

yay! pretty poem( at least I think so)

[FoolOfATook]

Since it doesn't look like anyone else is going to respond...

as a student of Latin poetry, I can't help but oo and ah at the apt caesuras in the last line.

Wow- another poetry nerd. Thanks for the compliment. :D

The protagonist or speaker of this 'essay' of yours seems to be very self-centered and even a little pompous; but I think he is expressing a true concern about the modern world.

Yeah- I think that I have the same attitude towards the speaker that Eliot had towards Prufrock- we both recognize that they are onto something, but are also using them to mock a type of personality that we see.

.. But still really good!

Thank you. Like I said, it's one of my favorite pieces that I've written.

So, anyone interested in my long, rambling poem at Iraq that's modeled on The Waste Land and filled with references that most sane people won't get because they have real lives and don't read obscure texts all the time? ;)

[Ledreanne313]

Beautiful poem, I love it!! 3 BRILLANT WRITERS: Of course, Tolkien, Raen, and... Tolkien. Wait I already said that, o well!

I love the little one, it does m,ake sense don't worry, well at least I think so (we think alike).

And thank You knidly for me being a nice writer, no really...your a lot better. And what were you perfering to: Poetry or Writing? I mean both! YAY FOR YOU, YOUR A GOOD WRITER!

[Lantarion]

Leaf, Falling
Inscriptions gliding like silver
through the silent air
Tumbling gracefully, sketching its masterpiece
watch it plummet, then stop

What tower could topple
like this thing could fall?
Rain is no match for its sincere art
it sings for a moment, then stops

A piruette of form, a dance
like fire in a crackling frost
Born to flourish, then to stop
born to flower, then to stop

[syongstar]

thanks! the healing and insight was needed!

[VioletFalcon129]

Whoah! that was REALLY good. Trees are cool.
tree poem:

Old and wise
he sits and waits
and hope that the rain
will come around again
he sits and waits silently
for he can do nothing else

Well thats my poem. I hope you like it!

Anne, i mean both. I know your poetry and your writing (excellent)
i hope you get your books published. :)

[7doubles]

hey another
lonly day of pain
and i know
the next brings another
its time i get away

i went crazy
and no one tried to save me
i went crazy
and no one tried to save me
another, another
crazy mother...

i'm taking eveything
its time i tried changing
i'm keeping everything
i keep my head
i'll take whats mine
and go

i went crzy
and no one tried to save me
i went crazy
but no one tried
no one tried to help

"crazy" :needs work

[Ledreanne313]

Well thank you Raen! I also hope you get your book(s) published. Have you stopped working on the one with the 2 brothers? What was that called anyway? I have not writen anything for many a month, I should start up again, or I'll never finish! I think I have...28 to 30 pages. How many are in you book. The one with the purple magic lady. (if you get my meaning:D ). Well, PM me. Or email me.

7doubles, your poems do not sound like poems. They sound like songs, a lot! That's not a bad thing. Is it meant to be a song? Both are very well writen, and have a nice meaing...yet are they poems (not song)? Just wondering.

Lantarion, your poem is excellent. Same with yours Raen. I have a tree poem, I can't find it! I am very upset, it was very long! I will look and if I find it I'll post it. Excellet work everyone!

*Little Fun Poem*
There once was a hobbit named Ruby.
And her tallness was quite easy to see.
She could reach up high to get Big Man's pie,
Then she would sit down and share it with me!

What do you think? I love that little poem, I was just messing around and I just thought it up! I think it is so cute!

Anne

[FoolOfATook]

While I was doing some of my most important thinking (i.e. standing on my porch smoking ) I got a bit of inspiration, and was able to jot down this poem. I figured I should go ahead and post it before I think better of it. ;)

Anyway, the poem is kind of a sonnet, so take the first line as your title, if you really need a title.

Frustrated, I stare at the blank sheet
Hoping to see the words flow forth
Like opening a vein upon the page,
My soul splashing out in rhymed couplets
And my very being displayed in perfect meter,
My pen scribbling brillance with every fluid stroke.

I have poetry in me- I just know it
Do I just lack the passion to let it sing?
Must I make a sacrifice to Erato herself?
Or perhaps in Stratford, upon our William's grave?
Sometimes the words seem so close
That I can all but taste them.

Sydney's muse said "Fool, just write"- Easy to say
But my soul remains silent, day upon day.

[Nóm]

Thanks for sharing that FoolOfATook, I like it.

I often experience the same thing and there is something about being outdoors at night, and especially at the break of dawn.

[syongstar]

Tornado
Shreiks of terror cry out in the night,
calmly I strike a match for a light.
As wind swirls & rain pours I feel the power of
nature,
bringing our unwanted but needed transformation,
to clear away problems and blocks of old,
and leave us closer to our own soul.

How do you connect with your soul?
Do you think Feanor,Finarfin, or Galadriel's actions showed they were more closley connected with the spiritual realm?

[VioletFalcon129]

Crystal: (that's the title)

Color of ranbow shines through the clearness
gem that hold the purity of water
gem that brings joy and sorrow
precious
and worthless
not as priceless as the diamond
not sharing the sheen of gold
just like the moon and just like the stars
holding beauty that's for free
when it shines alone
the water is crystal
let it shine
let it be the gem of many
let crystal be the gem of all

[Ledreanne313]

That is beautiful. You are a great poet. You cn think of a poem in 2 seconds! And it would be great! I wish I had such talent!

Anne

[Lantarion]

A distant smoke blinds me
(a nearby voice, though, calls me)
I lie dreaming in futures passed
(this very moment eludes me)

The inaccessible tortures me
(though love sits humming by)
Upon impossibillities dwelling
(forsaking what I once lived by)

Lofty visions hinder me
(but past them I could race)
Weighty thoughts confusing me
(but through them I would race)

"See! Thy future, bright and great!"
('But for a laugh, all sacrificed?')
"March now, quicken: thou art lord!"
('But for a Sun, how readily given?')