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Some poems of mine http://wiiki.dragnix.net/Msg_Board/phpBB/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=629 |
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Author: | Neco the Nightwraith [ Tue Mar 07, 2006 9:19 pm ] |
Post subject: | Some poems of mine |
These are my poems, copyright to me, any use of them without my permission will result in me hunting you down and haunting your sleep at night, blah blah blah and all that jazz. Posted these a while back in my senior year. Some might be kinda lame: Path of the Jaguar Sunlight filters through the trees, a greenish gold on the low lying ferns and fire lilys, their red orange blooms dotting the ever green growth with flame. The swaying ferns, feathery plumes hanging above your head, as rubber plants ooze their milk white sap. The ancient huge trunks of trees spiral into the sky, their tops obscured in foliage of green leaves. Ascend to the branches now, follow the worn stair of chipped bark, as you climb through blooming curtains of liana, the rainbow hues rioting in the dark green landscape. Follow me, my black-tipped tail flicking, follow me and I'll take you on the path of the jaguar. Panther Black, Midnight Cat Panther black, Midnight cat, Your hide of gleaming ebony, Your fur thick and glossy, Your body graceful and clean. Your paws, strong and deadly in their power, Your eyes of luminescent green, Your teeth of awesome magnitude, Your muscles taut and lean. You sit, hunkered down like an old man before his fire On a cold night, Your mouth curved in a grin of suspense. You gather yourself beneath you, and you SPRING! Your prey is helpless in your grasp, It struggles in vain, Your eyes are wild with the hunt, And your teeth flash in the sunlight. You have finished your meal, Stashing the left overs in the crotch of a tree For later You may be hungry, and hunting is not always successful. This is my version of the kid story: There Was An Old Woman... There was an old woman who swallowed a spider, Which wriggled and tickled all over inside her. She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, Why she swallowed the fly I have no idea why. SHE SWALLOWED FLY! WHY, OH WHY, WOULD SHE SWALLOW A FLY?! I don't know, so she'll probably die. There was an old woman who swallowed a cat, She swallowed the cat to catch the spider Which wiggled and tickled all over inside her, She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, Why she swallowed the fly, I have no idea why, So she'll probably die. There was an old woman who swallowed a dog She swallowed the dog to catch the cat, She swallowed the cat to catch the spider, Which wriggled and tickled all over inside her, She swallowed the spider to catch the fly Why she swallowed the fly, I have no idea why, So she'll probably die. There was an old woman who swallowed a goat, She swallowed the goat to catch the dog, She swallowed the dog to catch the cat She swallowed the cat to catch the spider, Which wriggled and tickled all over inside her She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, Why she swallowed the fly, I have no idea why, So she'll probably die. There was an old woman who swallowed a horse..... She's dead, of course. Just BE Be inspirational,intelligent, witty, scary, spooky, funny, silly, patronizing, controlling or relaxed. Be easy, hard, long, short, shaped, blunt, discreet, naive, happy, sad or mad. Be belligerant, volatile, evil, mean, snotty or scathing. Be kind, good, gentle, laidback or smooth. Be rough, bumpy, sandy, fine, coarse or silky. In other words... BE WHAT YOU WANT TO BE BE WHAT YOU'VE DREAMED YOU'D BE BE WHAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BE, JUST TO SEE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE In other words... Just Be, Just Be as you think you should Be for you are not me to Be...so just Be. The Gryphon, The Phoenix, and The Dragon The Gryphon The Phoenix The Dragon The Lords of Wind and Flame The Masters of the Sky The Gryphon The feline raptor The Golden Lord The flyer of the high winds The Fighter The Phoenix The fire bird The Scarlet Master The creature of golden red glittering light The Resurector The Dragon The scaled one The ebony god The beast of magic, mystery, and power The King. In Memory of You in memory of you my love to celebrate your life this poem shall be written down to ease the others strife for though the loss of you, of you has struck us deep and painfully true and left us hurt and bleeding our memories of you, of you forever will be teeming. Waking Up in the Morning Silver blue light streams in through the tall panes of the window onto the worn worden floor where the woodstove sits the ashes have grown cold and it's raining again The little couch is wrecking my back but the leather sofa across the room is always chill The wooden grate on top of the stairs wasn't closed to keep you from falling and breaking your neck I hope I don't snore as loud as the rest the noise is a raucous My cousin has just rolled over The bed screeches just like an old banshee only twice as screechy t's the worst bed in the house aside from my aunt and uncles It's like sleeping on a brick walk only less forgiving I open up the old cast iron stove the first one up As usual. Mother Earth She's there for you, just outside. Waiting and willing to listen to your woes, your worries, your joys. She's the best mother, 'cause she's always there for you, always encompassing you in her arms. She speaks rarely, preferring to listen, but if you sit quiet for a while, she will soothe you, and comfort you, and hold you, in her arms. Sky Battle I stood in the open, eyes full of pain, as I watched the skies, the battle of heavens satanistic cousin, as they waged war. I stood and cried support to the dome of the earth, to no avail, for before my very eyes, the sun was blocked out, engulfed in dark mist. The last blue of the sky I saw being kicked from human sight by a foot, a fist of immense black cloud, as the thunderheads roiled above. Now, as the thunder deafens my ears, as the lightning sears my eyes, as the rains slashes my face, I fell to my knees and prayed for mercy. And then the clouds parted, and there the blue sky shone, and to my mortal shame, I realized, that the heavens would always be there. And now, for the piece de ressistance! Writers Block This is a poem about writers block. .... .... .... I told you it was a poem about writers block! |
Author: | Jishdefish [ Tue Mar 07, 2006 11:37 pm ] |
Post subject: | |
They're good... Just not really my taste.... I liked that last one though, that happens to me alot!!! |
Author: | Silentiea [ Wed Mar 08, 2006 12:08 am ] |
Post subject: | |
I prefer poems about blank pages. I'm really good at those. Writers' block not so much. In order for it to be writers' block, you have to write something... |
Author: | Neco the Nightwraith [ Wed Mar 08, 2006 12:34 am ] |
Post subject: | |
Well, like I said: younger and more naive. Most of my writers block results in blank pages. Does that count? |
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