An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!
The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population. This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.
We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions: 1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well 2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems
Vestlusringide loetelu
Sa ei tohi sellesse vestlusringi kirjutada. Madalaim lubatud liikmelisustase sellesse vestlusringi kirjutamiseks on Ajuratsu.
Don't hurry, it's just a game.
Shhh don't run, I'll name the pain.
Pay attention now. No, look here,
That's it, I'll make it clear.
Shhh don't run, I'll name the pain.
No, don't panic, there is nothing to gain.
Slow your heart down, listen.
Are you comfortable in that position?
Ahhhhh I gotcha now,
You can wipe that sweat off your brow.
But don't tell anyone,
It's just part of the fun.
Just listen to my voice,
I'll take away the need for choice.
Shhh don't run. I'll name the pain.
The sleeper must awaken a message I was told,
From a book that in bold
told me to beware of deceptions, traditions and an 'old man'
To beware of those would take you, use you just for a scam
to support their world, another human pillar to say 'good job (it's just their plan).
They don't care,
a fake smile they wear,
As long as what they want they get,
They'll say anything I won't bet.
The old man gets his fix,
but they'll look for other tricks.
Munch, munch munch.
A fool there was and he made his prayer
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair
(We called her the woman who did not care),
But the fool he called her his lady fair
(Even as you and I!)
Oh the years we waste and the tears we waste
And the work of our head and hand,
Belong to the woman who did not know
(And now we know that she never could know)
And did not understand.
A fool there was and his goods he spent
(Even as you and I!)
Honor and faith and a sure intent
But a fool must follow his natural bent
(And it wasn't the least what the lady meant),
(Even as you and I!)
Oh the toil we lost and the spoil we lost
And the excellent things we planned,
Belong to the woman who didn't know why
(And now we know she never knew why)
And did not understand.
The fool we stripped to his foolish hide
(Even as you and I!)
Which she might have seen when she threw him aside --
(But it isn't on record the lady tried)
So some of him lived but the most of him died --
(Even as you and I!)
And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame
That stings like a white hot brand.
It's coming to know that she never knew why
(Seeing at last she could never know why)
And never could understand.
I was looking at the clouds on a Winter's day
I was thinking how the world has lost its way
How we play an empty game and how we think we're free
How we lie about the truth and the Misery
I was standing in the middle of a pouring rain
I was seeing how there's nothing in this life but pain
How we spend our days within an empty shell
How we dream of Heaven, how we're born in Hell
I can see into the city, I can see the mud
I can see the dirty faces, they are covered in blood
I can see the devil's hunger in the business man
I can feel the thirsty hunger all through this Land
I was blinded by a vision of the world-to-be
I was thinking of a Life that can never be
I was hoping for a place of security
I was sinking in the sand of Reality
But I know there must be some escape, a tunnel through the slime
I'm tired of watching all the rape, I'm sick of seeing all the crime
I've gazed along the open shore, I've looked within my darkest dreams
I've searched my soul to find a door, I must get out by any means
And I'm going over...I'm going over...yes I'm going over
The Edge
I was swirling in the center of a raging flood
I was coughing up the mucus and the slimy blood
I could feel the awful hatred in the angry sky
I could see the naked truth behind the endless Lie
How we spit upon the weak and how we praise the strong
How we trample on the right and how we bless the wrong
How we gave our souls to Satan, how we laughed with glee
When we finally saw the Lord hanging on that Tree
I am sick of living in a world filled with spite
I am sick of utter darkness, this eternal Night
I am fed up with the Dream and the Fantasy
I am fed up with the whole damn thing, you see
A Storm is coming and its gonna be an evil day
The water's rising, gonna wash your hopes away
The wind is blowing, gonna rip right through your head
The devil's smirking 'cause he knows you're already Dead
But I know there must be some escape, a tunnel to the Light
I think I've found a better way, I'm giving up this worthless fight
I've gazed along the open shore, I've looked into the land of Love
I've searched my soul to find a door, I've gazed into the stars above
And I'm going over...I'm going over...yes I'm going over
(originally posted here on 2. September 2003, 12:42:49)
Seated in my study dreaming, all the air about me teeming,
Images of lost years streaming, broken strands of yesterday –
Through the pane comes moonlight gleaming on my face, O ever seeming
To intrude with clever scheming, secrets hid in every ray –
Might there be a cryptic meaning in this strange, unearthly play
Shining o’er this brittle clay?
Outside my door the wild wind sleeps ‘neath dusky sky and western steeps –
Succumbs the Summer; Winter creeps into my sanctuary –
Into my blood dejection seeps as ‘round a nook a lorn eye peeps,
And sorrow rises from the deeps to clothe this sad-eyed Fairy –
The silence moans, the twilight weeps, and all the world’s contrary –
Lost ghosts glide o’er the prairie.
In the gloaming, beyond the coast, there march the souls I treasure most;
Beneath the crescent moon a hoste of warriors in the fleeting day –
Of treasures lost I surely boast and place my name upon the Post
Which stands like some unliving ghost upon the edge of my dismay –
I lift the glass and make the toast to ghosts whom I would fain belay –
Old soldiers lost in the fray.
Some ghosts are living, some are gone to hollow holes in lands unknown
Where starlight gleams as cold as stone and black-eyed demons bar the gate –
A curse it is to be alone, lost in that chilling, timeless Zone
Where ev’ry echo is a groan against the calloused hands of Fate –
There is, in sooth, cause to bemoan a Cosmos laid on slabs of hate,
Whose Lord I dare to inculpate.
My ancestors were men of steel and to them now I must appeal,
For though they’ve passed, they are more real than far-fetch’d gods of make-believe –
O shadows flee! O Satan reel! before whose throne all cowards kneel –
I’ll make no parleys, strike no deal, nor let my mind his lies deceive –
Let others yield, their hearts congeal – I’ll never give nor ask reprieve,
Though he doth my soul bereave.
Father, you have gone to the grave, that mystic realm, that far enclave
Where all my future hopes once clave, while still I searched for the Grail –
The Earth takes back what once she gave no matter how we fret or rave,
And what is free she’ll soon enslave and lead along the ancient trail –
Wash now my heart, my spirit lave! O Goddess underneath the Veil –
‘Gainst thee I shall never rail!
I’ve surely lived in Hell-bent haste, as if there were no time to waste –
Each moment might have been encased, and here the pain of loss allay –
But she beckoned, so I raced until I had myself out-paced,
And left my heart and mind un-braced for dark emotions long at bay –
With sadness now my soul is laced in mounting grief too great to weigh –
Against myself I must inveigh.
Riding now on wave-upon-wave, plunging into the nethermost cave,
Where music swells my soul doth crave, once more my heart to impale –
For though I be so bold, so brave, I’m still in truth a simple slave
Who clings to chains within this Nave to withstand the bitter gale –
I cannot walk the path I pave, nor can I gaze beyond the pale –
To be mortal is to fail.
I summon ghosts from far and near to muster hope and withstand fear,
But ofttimes shed a lonely tear while gazing into the Past –
Too long! too long! those voices dear have failed to grace this yearning ear,
And phantoms vanish while I peer into the dismal gloom so vast –
No ripple on the haunted mere reveals the anchor vainly cast –
I am left alone at last.
O come, bright Maiden, lithe and fair, and guide me to thy hidden lair –
For I am yours, I now declare, against impossibility –
Entwine me in thy silver hair and lift the burden I can’t bear,
As I ascend the arcane stair into thy dark tranquility –
I’ll sit beside thee in thy chair and praise thy high facility –
Blessed rare ability!
A puff of smoke, a sip of wine preserve my memories in brine,
And I take oath: I will be thine, O Maiden fair, O spectral Dame –
Take I this Vision for a sign that you, my Lady, will be mine;
Upon thy breast I shall recline, and lay to rest this mortal frame –
Be thou my Love, my true Ensign, for never will I be the same –
My Love, what is thy name?
Now darkness falls, the Vision’s fled – I must bestir myself to bed,
Content to know my soul is wed to the Sylph of my delusion –
For though my Angel now is dead, when all is done and all is said,
She ever lives within my head, and all else is confusion –
These ghosts are rather real instead, and this is my conclusion –
Dare not call it Illusion!
It was too dark so I kindled a candle.
We were the shadows cast on the wall,
doing their incomprehensible dance.
The night was so long
that the wax in the candle ran out,
but we were not lost in the darkness
because that seemingly endless night
you made fireflies spring from my body.
You were the dream of my hot summer nights,
that dream that came like unexpected rain.
You were the zenith of my rising sun
and the gentle glow of my midnight moon.
Every night your hands left their mark on me
like your feet leave their steps etched in the sand.
Deep in my sleep I would hear your soft voice;
a whisper to wake me in the darkness.
Your warm skin felt delicate against mine.
Your fragrant hair filled my nights with delight.
I imbibed everything wholesome from you.
You were my strength, like the sun is the strength
of trees and mountains. You were my freedom,
like the wind is the freedom of all birds.
I'm a coffee-drinking kind of man
And I drink it whenever I can
And it's coffee-drinking time again
And I drink it right out of the pan
And I'm such a big coffee fan
Though I never liked Duran Duran
I'm just a coffee-drinking kind of man
Funny how things go
Rare - not so
Intimate at times - but truth
Eloborate within the circle
Nobody wish to see broken
Daily though, immeasurably hurt
Sometime, someplace, somewhere...
Every day thousands of kids just like Sarah are killed at the hands of
One or both or their parents. I pray for child abuse to wither out and die,
but also pray for the safety of Our youth.
The young ones cannot help
themselves....if you suspect a child is in danger, please do not look the
other way, we can make a difference. Please pass this poem on because as
crazy as it might sound, it might just indirectly change a life.
Hey, you! NEVER know. Please forward if you are AGAINST CHILD ABUSE
I received this in my mail this morning and thought it was worth passing on.
Oh, I agree with you entirely, in a perfect world, the board would be clean. There will always be people who post things we don't like. Well, there should be a rants and raves board for pawns who want to post anything. Maybe that would help the other boards. Enough said, let's get back to poetry!
I like a clean board. I agree with Stardust. I can't be blamed for being the Censor-Monster here now as I no longer moderate Poetry...but I tip my hat to Stardust, Aragon, Bumble & Harley, all who have stood forth in recent days on this board to help maintain its integrity.
Andromedical: And I commend you for that. I do the same on other boards. The difference here is,it is my responsibility (and that of my co mods and the global mods) to keep this board relatively clean and within site guidelines.
I am just saying, you suffer for no reason. All I do is look at the poster's name, I don't even bother reading when I know it is somebody who has nothing good to say.
Andromedical: With your method there would be no need for moderators on any board. I suggest you take your idea to Fencer and until he deems otherwise,this board will be moderated.
It never occurred to any of you that there is another policy which works just as well as prescreening, banning or whatever, and it is ignoring. I ignore bad posts just like I ignore a pebble on the street under my shoe. Bad posts are ineffectual and meaningless. The problem with all of you is that you insist on reading every byte. If a certain poster is an idiot, as soon as you see his message, ignore him. If that person keeps posting stupidity, you just keep on ignoring them. Eventually they get bored and leave. Problem solved.
Plastic people!
You gotta go
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Plastic people!
You gotta go
A fine little girl She waits for me
She's as plastic as she can be
She paints her face With plastic goo
And wrecks her hair With some shampoo
Plastic people!
You gotta go
Plastic people!
You gotta go
Sure gonna miss ya
Take a day And walk around
Watch the Nazis Run your town
Then go home And check yourself
You think we're singing
'Bout someone else
But you're plastic people
You gotta go
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Plastic people!
You gotta go
Three nights and days I walked the streets
This town is full of Plastic creeps
Their shoes are brown to match their suits
They got no balls, they got no roots
Because they're plastic people
You gotta go
Sure gonna miss ya, bop-bop-bop
Plastic people!
You gotta go
Me see a neon Moon above
I searched for years And found no love
I'm sure that love Will never be
A product of Plasticity
Aragon: Perhaps the 'baiting of mods' was caused by their practice of good old-fashioned Censorship. Those who think their opinion is the only one that's right.
gekrompen hoofd: If you read through the posts you will see that is the reason we are looking at a solution. This board is about expresing ones self, and through the means of poem, verse or sonet. The baiting of users and mods alike is not poetry??
If we weed out those posts then this board has the potential to return to what it was.
Its not about deleting posts, or banning users, merely making the content more appropriate to the description of the board.
This board is supposed to be for everyone to express themselves through verse is it not? You're contradicting the meaning of this board by singling out those whom you personally find intolerable. The moderation here isn't based on what is fair, but what is the acceptable material according to a small group of individuals.
Even people that look for trouble can post an amazing poem on an occasion LOL But if you approve all pawn posts then you will also stop future violations from occuring?
Im just thinking of the best, the quickest and the most reasonable way to bring this board back to what it used to be. A simple look back in time and the board transforms to somthing amazing, I for one would like that back :)
Aragon: Would it be less trouble to ban the very small group of abusive pawns..most of who have been banned before on other boards..rather than burden both the good pawns and the mods with pre-screening the posts? I really don't like censorship but when you take a quiet board like this one and suddenly you get a rash of posters pushing the envelope you can just bet it isn't out of any newly acquired love of poetry. It's love of trouble.
Since this board is not a board which would need a post to show up "right a way", I see no problem in making it all approve, or pawn approve. 3 Moderators plus the global moderators can help to approve if regular moderators are away.
Perhaps if moderators just moderate their comments a little bit, this board would calm down.
In my opinion, moderators are not doing a fine job. They can´t accept criticism and just censure evrything that is not going into the so-called "political correct" poem or idea.
Perhaps the best moderation tact for this board is that all posts should be approved... Or bann everybody? What do you think about that?
BTW, the James Hird poem is just brilliant...
P.S. Sorry for my english, but I think it´s better than your portuguese...
(peida) Sa võid oma sõnumites kasutada lihtsamat HTML-i või kui oled tasuline liige, kasutada ka Rich Text Editor´i. (pauloaguia) (näita kõiki vihjeid)