Poetry

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Re: Poetry

Postby Tiffany » Sun Jan 15, 2012 9:41 pm

Batty wrote:Jan, I loved Still and Deep. Your poems touch an emotional button, which I cannot quite discern - if that makes sense!
Ears bobbed along dancing to its own tune and rhythm.

Tiffany - I really enjoyed your poem as well. I rarely do prose as I feel that they are an excuse to write a short story and just label it as 'poetry', but yours is a poem - as are other people's efforts on this thread!

Well Done!



Thank you Batty. Not entirely my idea, as the friend did set it out in poetry form for me, as I hadn't a clue how to.
Best wishes,
Tiff
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Re: Poetry

Postby Tiffany » Sun Jan 15, 2012 9:53 pm

MongoGutman wrote:
Tiffany wrote:Super poems everyone & I would not dream to criticize any, my own are not perfect.


well thanks for nothing then.



I said that because I would not pass comment on someone else's poem, I am no expert. If I like a poem I say so & so far there are none here I'd not leave a favourable comment on. As Jan said, writing is personal to the person writing & even if a poem could be improved (& I have noted this on re-reading some of mine), unless asked by that person I'd not give an opinion.

It was very kind of you to remark on my Camelot poem, it was written for a challenge & had to be a take on a modern version of The Lady of Shallot. I didn't win BTW. :D
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Re: Poetry

Postby deldaisy » Mon Jan 16, 2012 8:26 am

I dont care...... just keep them coming.... I love this thread.

So much talent.

:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap:
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Re: Poetry

Postby nemmi69 » Mon Jan 16, 2012 3:58 pm

Ode to a lump of green putty I found under my armpit one summers day
What doesn't kill you is just biding it's time
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Re: Poetry

Postby Dotsie » Mon Jan 16, 2012 4:31 pm

Aaaarrrgghhh! Nooooo!
What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass!
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Re: Poetry

Postby MongoGutman » Tue Jan 17, 2012 1:27 am

Ahhh... I'm sorry for my earlier petulance, it was just - no, I won't make excuses, it was just ill-mannered of me. Sorry.

Moving on...

I went on YouTube to try and find a reading of my favorite poem, The Splendour Falls by Alfred, Lord Tennyson and I couldn't find one, only some musical adaption that I disliked, so I made one.

Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? ~~ Oddball
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Re: Poetry

Postby Tiffany » Tue Jan 17, 2012 11:36 am

I like that, Mongo, the pictures are beautiful.
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Re: Poetry

Postby Jan Van Quirm » Tue Jan 17, 2012 1:28 pm

:clap: Nicely put together Mongo :D
"Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not.” George Bernard Shaw
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Re: Poetry

Postby MongoGutman » Mon Feb 06, 2012 2:15 pm

I thought that vid was a bit of a failiure: I was going for wistful, acheived mournful - the Mahler was a mistake too.

Anyway - here's a story poem

The Circle

Part One: The Summoning

Candles black spew flames that sizzle
And dance within an unfelt breeze.
Slowly shadows to corners scuttle
To lurk where darkness yet has lease.

Silver signs and runes and sigils
Twist and writhe upon the floor
Disturbing circles, distorted symbols
Force a breach, an unwholesome door.

The Nigromancer’s voice starts speaking
Words never meant for human tongue
Now a murmer, now a shreiking
A chant not for untold ages sung.

A putrid stench and insane gibber
Are herald to the unclean Dread
Reality within the circle shimmers
The chamber echoes to a demon’s tread.

The Demon growls, it’s voice like thunder
"Know you well: I’ll take my price."
The Wizard swears he’ll sate it’s hunger:
"Blood of blood my sacrifice."

Dependent on their uncle’s mercies
Twin babes the Demon’s eye’s are shown
Stolen from their royal nursery
Shackled now to altar stone.

Part 2: The Quest

Midst fluted collumns and velvet shadows
Where err-time saintly monks do sing
And clerics study holy hallows
Kneels distraught father, wrathful King.

Eyes to heavan, the king he whispers
"Their lives for mine: upon my word."
Accustomed more to hearing vespers
In realms beyond his oath is heard.

Armour’s brought, with steel he’s wrapped
Breastplate pure and shield unflawed
Across his back his weapon’s strapped:
Hellsbane: ancient mystic sword.

The knights they cheer their monarch’s coming
As one they vow they’ll never rest,
Banners streaming, horse hooves drumming,
The Royal Squadron joins the quest.

The battle’s joined ‘gainst Ducal minions,
Pit-bred beasts of tooth and claw
For to free the Royal scions
Knight and goblin fall to war.

Steel and sinew ‘gainst wraith and wonder
At dear cost the wizard’s tower’s reached.
Hellsbane bursts the gate asunder
The nigromancer’s lair is breached!

Part 3: The Clash

The Duke is caught with dagger raised,
By King: the Princes blood unshed
The king attacks, his passions crazed
To duel ‘till one or both are dead.

Dagger’s dropped and Runestaff seized:
Potent as the royal blade
Hellsbane mirrors lightning greased
Runestaff counters with ebon shade.

The circle’s scuffed! The Demon freed
To rage across the Earthly land!
To altar leaps, intent to feed -
It’s claws are stopped by Angel’s hand!

Infernal Demaon and Holy Terror
Burst through the roof to sky above
O’er the trembling, shattered tower
Feindish hate fights sacred love.

As staff and sword in clash are broken
The Duke and King both are slain
The magic lost of which they’re token
Angel and Demon quit mortal plane.

The knight can scarce believe his eyes:
At sight of mangled king he winces -
But upon the altar, unhoped for prize:
The Royal babes: the living Princes!

Part 4: The Circle

Seasons turn as seasons must
Summers shine and winters blow
Ten autumn’s leaves decay to dust
Whilst aged die and children grow.

Two brothers royal yet half grown
At play, their guardian escort slipped
Go wandering, adventure prone:
Long deserted lands are tripped.

Where neither knew a tower’s found:
Jagged tooth that bites the sky
To mutual goad they leave the ground
And climb to unroofed chamber high.

The boys see trove unprospected,
Wreckage is sifted, debris explored.
One holds aloft a find detected -
A boy’s delight: a broken sword!

The other frowns with jealous glance,
He a heartbeat earlier birthed,
So he takes first Royal stance:
"I claim this treasure you’ve unearthed."

The younger yields, then finds a staff,
Poor exchange to boyhood eyes
He masks his ire with unfelt laugh,
And wonders where true Power lies.
Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? ~~ Oddball
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Re: Poetry

Postby Tiffany » Mon Feb 06, 2012 2:39 pm

Is there any more? I'd like to read on, Mongo.?
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Re: Poetry

Postby deldaisy » Mon Feb 06, 2012 4:57 pm

Mongo wrote a BRILLIANT poem in the childrens book thread. Put it up here Mongo. Or do I have to..... :roll:

I love it.
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Re: Poetry

Postby deldaisy » Mon Feb 06, 2012 4:59 pm

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Re: Poetry

Postby MongoGutman » Mon Feb 06, 2012 5:04 pm

Actually the story does go on, but I've never written it down before and don't propose to versify it, but here it is

The princes escort/guardian - the same Knight who found the dead King - finds them in the tower and they are fetched home, each carrying their 'prize' - broken sword and staff. From that day the two princes, once close as any brothers, start to drift apart, the elder concentrating his studies on warcraft, the younger, despite the dissapproval of the Knight, delving into arcane lore. The Knight forbids the younger from any further exploration of magic, but he continues in secret. Five years later, gaining a little more freedom the younger returns to the tower where he meets an ugly old Witch who has taken up residence in the ruin. He befriends her - who has never known kindness - and learns from her, she loves him like a son.

Five more years pass and the Knight, now acting as Regent asks the younger prince what he'd want when his brother takes the throne the next year. The prince demands his Uncle's ruined tower and the lands arround. The knight, his suspicions aroused, searches the prince's high tower room and finds evidence of black magic. The prince returns to his room to find the Regent waiting to accuse him. There's a fight and the Prince hits the Regent with the old broken staff, killing him and using his death as the power he needed to reforge the runestaff. The Regent's body is tumbled down the long stairs so that it looks like he fell and died by accident.

The coronation is brought forward and the Heir takes the crown and throne, naming his younger brother Duke and giving him the lands he asked for. The Duke rebuilds his Uncle's tower and lives there with the Witch. They staff the tower and rule the lands through summoned or controlled creatures. He is consumed by jealousy of his brother, the King, but as long as he is the acknowledged heir he is prepared not to act. Some years pass in peace then the King weds. The possibility of the Queen producing an heir to supplant the Duke throws him into a rage. The Witch tells him she will make sure it never happens.

The Witch goes to the Royal Palace, disguised by magic as a pretty young girl and becomes a servant, insinuating herself into the household and rising to become the Queen's personal maid. The Witch feeds the Queen small doses of a herb meant to stop her conceiving but which also weakens her. Some time passes while the illness and barreness of the Queen becomes a matter of concern for the kingdom. A young blacksmith comes to court, dreaming of becoming a knight, but his petition is laughed down by the King and his couriers. The blacksmith is put to work in the royal armoury where he finds the long neglected broken Hellsbane. He reforges the sword and returns to the court where he intends to present it to the King. When he kneels and unsheaths the sword, holding it out for the King to take he happens to see a reflection in the blade of the Witch giving the Queen a potion, the magic of the sword countering the Witch's glamour. He reverses his grip and slays the Witch, who's true form is revealed as she dies. The blacksmith is made Knight on the spot.

The Queen rallies and conceives. The Duke intensifies his studies, seeking deeper and darker power and what would be needed to attain and control it. The Queen produces twin sons but - weakened by years of slow poison - dies in childbirth. The King is grief stricken but is consoled by the Knight who tells him his wife lives on in their sons. The King goes to the nursery chamber but is just too late, observing his brother carrying off his babies on the back of a winged beast. The Duke returns to his tower and prepares the ritual for his most ambitious summoning ever, one that would give him the power to supplant his brother as King.

...and so the Circle is joined.
Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? ~~ Oddball
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Re: Poetry

Postby author3 » Mon Feb 06, 2012 5:07 pm

MongoGutman wrote:Actually the story does go on, but I've never written it down before and don't propose to versify it, but here it is

The princes escort/guardian - the same Knight who found the dead King - finds them in the tower and they are fetched home, each carrying their 'prize' - broken sword and staff. From that day the two princes, once close as any brothers, start to drift apart, the elder concentrating his studies on warcraft, the younger, despite the dissapproval of the Knight, delving into arcane lore. The Knight forbids the younger from any further exploration of magic, but he continues in secret. Five years later, gaining a little more freedom the younger returns to the tower where he meets an ugly old Witch who has taken up residence in the ruin. He befriends her - who has never known kindness - and learns from her, she loves him like a son.

Five more years pass and the Knight, now acting as Regent asks the younger prince what he'd want when his brother takes the throne the next year. The prince demands his Uncle's ruined tower and the lands arround. The knight, his suspicions aroused, searches the prince's high tower room and finds evidence of black magic. The prince returns to his room to find the Regent waiting to accuse him. There's a fight and the Prince hits the Regent with the old broken staff, killing him and using his death as the power he needed to reforge the runestaff. The Regent's body is tumbled down the long stairs so that it looks like he fell and died by accident.

The coronation is brought forward and the Heir takes the crown and throne, naming his younger brother Duke and giving him the lands he asked for. The Duke rebuilds his Uncle's tower and lives there with the Witch. They staff the tower and rule the lands through summoned or controlled creatures. He is consumed by jealousy of his brother, the King, but as long as he is the acknowledged heir he is prepared not to act. Some years pass in peace then the King weds. The possibility of the Queen producing an heir to supplant the Duke throws him into a rage. The Witch tells him she will make sure it never happens.

The Witch goes to the Royal Palace, disguised by magic as a pretty young girl and becomes a servant, insinuating herself into the household and rising to become the Queen's personal maid. The Witch feeds the Queen small doses of a herb meant to stop her conceiving but which also weakens her. Some time passes while the illness and barreness of the Queen becomes a matter of concern for the kingdom. A young blacksmith comes to court, dreaming of becoming a knight, but his petition is laughed down by the King and his couriers. The blacksmith is put to work in the royal armoury where he finds the long neglected broken Hellsbane. He reforges the sword and returns to the court where he intends to present it to the King. When he kneels and unsheaths the sword, holding it out for the King to take he happens to see a reflection in the blade of the Witch giving the Queen a potion, the magic of the sword countering the Witch's glamour. He reverses his grip and slays the Witch, who's true form is revealed as she dies. The blacksmith is made Knight on the spot.

The Queen rallies and conceives. The Duke intensifies his studies, seeking deeper and darker power and what would be needed to attain and control it. The Queen produces twin sons but - weakened by years of slow poison - dies in childbirth. The King is grief stricken but is consoled by the Knight who tells him his wife lives on in their sons. The King goes to the nursery chamber but is just too late, observing his brother carrying off his babies on the back of a winged beast. The Duke returns to his tower and prepares the ritual for his most ambitious summoning ever, one that would give him the power to supplant his brother as King.

...and so the Circle is joined.

thats really good Mongo :)
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Re: Poetry

Postby MongoGutman » Mon Feb 06, 2012 5:16 pm

I shoul say that the blacksmith who becomes Knight is also the Knight who becomes Regent
Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? ~~ Oddball
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