Writing Community Anthology Thread

[Darren]

[QUOTE=2007DigitalBoy][COLOR=DarkOrange]We're having a battle? I've been agreeing with half of his opinions, right? And anyway, no matter what I did, Copy was bound to be every other post (just like the last poetry thread years ago :p) I was just critiquing him and throwing in some poems of my own along the way to stay on-topic. And anyway, i've only posted 4 or 5 poems in the last month, so I don't know where you're getting that I've been spamming it up, especially when 4 of them were short as hell (ne even a haiku >_>) only one was an abomination that I did as a parody of m here. I think your the one who needs to Chillax XD

Also, why are you ignoring poor Prem?[/COLOR][/QUOTE]

Yeah, DB, that's why I didn't really say anything about yours... But seriously, the past day or two has been nothing but you two (With one or two from Prem) Copycatalyst would be better off creating his own poem dump at the rate he's going...

P.S. Ignoring Prem is all I can do because... Well, we'll just leave it at that.

And to Copycatalyst: I never said that we should limit it to just one post per day, but haven't you noticed that no one else is posting on this besides you, DB, Prem, and now myself? There's the occasional post from someone else, but sometimes it goes completely ignored. As I said earlier, you would be better off creating your own poem dump instead of unleasing 5 a day on a this poor and defenseless thread. (and yes, 5 is an over-exaggeration)

And fine, I over-reacted about your, "battle of wits," but I couldn't tell since it just seemed to be going back and forth between you two and intents are lost with typed words, so sue me.

In any case, I still say that this thread is being killed by not letting anybody else get a post in. That, and the fact that the critiques have been way down when that was one of the purposes of this thread.

[Aberinkula]

[COLOR=Navy]Why, is there something I did to you Darren if so I'm sorry.

But I must agree, I never hear criticism from Copycatylyst. DB gives me some sometimes. usually when I post something, Mitch posts something, and my posts never go with notice, except once or twice. I've already gone unnoticed plenty of times with my story's. DigitalBoy is mostly there for me, but a lot of people view and leave.

I go to this thread almost every time I log on to OB. And I always see something new from Copycatalyst. Maybe only once from DB, but not as much as him. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=Navy]And copy, I don't even attempt to read your poems. Because to me they're Just unbearable to read. Make more smaller poems. Three stanzas aren't hard to make. [/COLOR]

[Guest Copycatalyst]

Okay. Let me be straight-up. If you want to post [i]post[/i]. Otherwise quit whining like three-year-old pandas. LOL. If you don't want to read my posts, put me on ignore, or ignore my poetry. There. Problem solved! I can post as long of poems as I want, and you can bitch all you want but I will keep posting whatever I want to post. If you don't like it go shove your ADHD face and quit being whinny little scions.


[center][img]http://www.otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=26207&stc=1[/img]
welcome to the door that you stand beside,
my copycatalyst, just turn that drainknob,
go inside; it's what you want to see
so why would you stop inevitability?

this is the door of your perception,
limited, because of your own deceptions.
which, by using, you condemn others
to not condemn yourself

the heat of hate opens no true door,
pandora's box, endless in deplore,
making chaos contours of chaste
red rust hate-hated dust of blood hastes

down the drain, let the blood drain,
our bodies can and will be given up
for each other, for the sake of our ignorance

rat-tat-tat machine gun bullets in iraq
echoing the blood onto the walls of our eyes

i took the blood of your cud,
put it in a blender sea of pain
pushed and pushed till i knew
the hurt only speaks kissing dis-ease
that i'm standing speaks sieves,

of how much we fall through
to turn the drainknob, watch it go
build a door to dante's inferno below[/center]

[url]http://www.chromosomecowboy.com/mitchmusic/M%20-%20Drainknob%20Door.mp3[/url]

[2010DigitalBoy]

[COLOR=DarkOrange]Yeah, I'm basically with M on this one. Jsut ignore his damn poetry. Darren, I don't know what you're basing your allegations on. The only other people to post recently were paid attention. Ink got reviews all around, Clurr got reviews, Prem got reviews a few times, but I also ignore him sometimes on purpose until his next wave. The only post to go 'unnoticed' was Wet's short story - and like I said several times in the therad, I don't have time to read a short story cuz they don't interest me.[/COLOR]

[Aberinkula]

[quote name='2007DigitalBoy][COLOR=DarkOrange']Yeah, I'm basically with M on this one. Jsut ignore his damn poetry. Darren, I don't know what you're basing your allegations on. The only other people to post recently were paid attention. Ink got reviews all around, Clurr got reviews, Prem got reviews a few times, but I also ignore him sometimes on purpose until his next wave. The only post to go 'unnoticed' was Wet's short story - and like I said several times in the therad, I don't have time to read a short story cuz they don't interest me.[/COLOR][/quote]

[COLOR=Navy]What do you mean by wave? The next time I put up a poem?

Hey Copy. I didn't lash out by insulting you, so what gives you the right to be a whiny pissant? And second of all, I don't have ADHD.

I read almost everything DB posts, beacuse I have time. If I read every poem of yours I'd get booted of the net. If my internet connecton worked properly, yes, I'd read more of your stuff. In fact I liked the last one you posted. Very nice,

Now see, shorter is sometimes better. The reason is because when an argument goes for a long time, the reason behind it goes to mush. But yes, it is your right to post so, you have that point. But sometimes you just gotta go shorter. No one is trying to force you, just trying to get you to try it. There, now can we just get on with the poetry, hm?

I will post my poem here tommoror, I don't have the mind or time right now.[/color]

[Guest Copycatalyst]

lol @ prem

The earth is a purse of a car of california
The earth is a hearse of a taxi of heaven
It's all about the newly-opened nine-elevens
It's all about the jihad crusade of war

There's jeer and floating in Los Angeles
No more fear and loathing in Las Vegas
There's a chesire cat city in this nation
They slit their throats cause muder's a ration

Feeds the farms of ants of caucasians
American-Romans high on violence's elation
Foreign policy is the new Hollywood of TV
The new news to cast projection like a movie

These Spartan Artisans of such artists
Which paint Picasso pictures of blood
These Devil Angels of Marines of love
Freedom for death, death for our kind

We do it all for what's above
While the world spins a run
Like speed in the veins of milky way
The blur of neon-lit smudge
Of its crawling days

Well we're chemire cats drinking the milk
It's the milk of God and the taste of silk
It's silt and worm with moth-eaten squirms
When we say darling world we're your birds

Well darling world you're a swirl of apostasy
Kiss the lips but don't tell its hypocrisy
Dancer of dreams to the molecule of me
Darling world we have too much to see

[Darren]

:p Fine! I'll shut up about it... And I just won't read every poem that Copycatalyst posts... Even though I'm a bit too lazy to have to scroll down those long ones. (And I thought mine were long...)

Anywho, I won't waste my time rehashing all this stuff... Opinions are opinions, and mine was just that. As for the argument, I just perceived it all wrong, but I guess that's a good thing...

To Prem: You haven't done anything, so don't apoligize. That was just my way to give an example without being caught in a contradiction. (Which I failed at)

I still stand by my decision not to post poetry or stories here anymore, but I'm definatley willing to give out some critiques! Here 'goes:

[QUOTE=Copycatalyst][center]welcome to the door that you stand beside,
my copycatalyst, just turn that drainknob,
go inside; it's what you want to see
so why would you stop inevitability?

this is the door of your perception,
limited, because of your own deceptions.
which, by using, you condemn others
to not condemn yourself

the heat of hate opens no true door,
pandora's box, endless in deplore,
making chaos contours of chaste
red rust hate-hated dust of blood hastes

down the drain, let the blood drain,
our bodies can and will be given up
for each other, for the sake of our ignorance

rat-tat-tat machine gun bullets in iraq
echoing the blood onto the walls of our eyes

i took the blood of your cud,
put it in a blender sea of pain
pushed and pushed till i knew
the hurt only speaks kissing dis-ease
that i'm standing speaks sieves,

of how much we fall through
to turn the drainknob, watch it go
build a door to dante's inferno below[/center][/QUOTE]
Well right from the beginning, it's a bit of a turn off for me. It's much better than the other one I critiqued, but with such unnattractive words like, "drainknob," It doesn't make me want to continue. And I think I get that you were going for a darker more gritty feel to the poem, but certain words just leave me out of the loop.

Fortunately I persisted, and found the second stanza to be beautiful... The play on words is genius and I think you could make a four-line poem out of this stanza alone. I wouldn't change a thing about it. (Not that you would change anything anyway)

Ultimately, It's a good poem about the cruelty of mankind, but the drawback is that you spent too much time on imagery and not enough suggestive examples. What I mean is that, for example, in this stanza:

"down the drain, let the blood drain,
our bodies can and will be given up
for each other, for the sake of our ignorance"

You touch on what the poem's about and even give us some ideas... I know that the US military was running through my head as I read it but when it came down to actual examples, you provided only two lines:

"rat-tat-tat machine gun bullets in iraq
echoing the blood onto the walls of our eyes"

All I'm saying is that the imagery was used so much that the example wasn't needed since it makes the poem more unbalanced.

There you have it: A much more simple, less harsh critique of a poem by Copy... See, I can do it. Hells doubted it. He said I wasn't nice enough. :p

P.S. Copycatalyst: I would still like to know if I guessed the meaning to that other poem I reviewed correctly... Or this one, for that matter.

[Guest Copycatalyst]

[QUOTE=Darren]:p Fine! I'll shut up about it... And I just won't read every poem that Copycatalyst posts... Even though I'm a bit too lazy to have to scroll down those long ones. (And I thought mine were long...)

Anywho, I won't waste my time rehashing all this stuff... Opinions are opinions, and mine was just that. As for the argument, I just perceived it all wrong, but I guess that's a good thing...

To Prem: You haven't done anything, so don't apoligize. That was just my way to give an example without being caught in a contradiction. (Which I failed at)

I still stand by my decision not to post poetry or stories here anymore, but I'm definatley willing to give out some critiques! Here 'goes:


Well right from the beginning, it's a bit of a turn off for me. It's much better than the other one I critiqued, but with such unnattractive words like, "drainknob," It doesn't make me want to continue. And I think I get that you were going for a darker more gritty feel to the poem, but certain words just leave me out of the loop.

Fortunately I persisted, and found the second stanza to be beautiful... The play on words is genius and I think you could make a four-line poem out of this stanza alone. I wouldn't change a thing about it. (Not that you would change anything anyway)

Ultimately, It's a good poem about the cruelty of mankind, but the drawback is that you spent too much time on imagery and not enough suggestive examples. What I mean is that, for example, in this stanza:

"down the drain, let the blood drain,
our bodies can and will be given up
for each other, for the sake of our ignorance"

You touch on what the poem's about and even give us some ideas... I know that the US military was running through my head as I read it but when it came down to actual examples, you provided only two lines:

"rat-tat-tat machine gun bullets in iraq
echoing the blood onto the walls of our eyes"

All I'm saying is that the imagery was used so much that the example wasn't needed since it makes the poem more unbalanced.

There you have it: A much more simple, less harsh critique of a poem by Copy... See, I can do it. Hells doubted it. He said I wasn't nice enough. :p

P.S. Copycatalyst: I would still like to know if I guessed the meaning to that other poem I reviewed correctly... Or this one, for that matter.[/QUOTE]


Nice crit. As for your question. It means whatever you want it to mean. End of story.


so how many years, must we bleed fear,
and yes, how many times, must we count our crimes
would you tell me, how many silent voices
leash themselves with a muzzle
how many serrated edges
rest on this puzzle?

yes and, how many peaces,
of freedom's strings must we pick,
before she sings?
and tell me, would they invent a gun
that shot bullets of love?
that made blood of bliss
rain down?
well is it possible
to not wear people as a glove?

so how many years, must we bleed fear,
how many raindrops must the sky cry,
so tell me, how many dead till we really die?
how many corpses, lining the stomach
of our history
does it take to digest?

and yes, this is it, it's be gone or become
and yes, this is it, while we are among the sun

and how many years, do we learn to hate
how many more till we learn to forgive?
how many more, till we really live again?

yes and, he said it's all blowin' in the wind
yes and, he said it's smoke of dreams
rising among the red seas

and yes, this is it, it's be gone or become
yes, this is it, while we are among the sun

so tell me my fellow human being,
would you forsake ash to find fire?
yes and, would you not wallow,
to burn brighter
would you live to shine,
take my hand,
not as a buyer?

yes and, he said it's all blowin' in the wind
his reverse said to not go gentle
into that good night,
so what do you have to say
when you close your eyes
tonight?

yes, this is it, it's gone or become
this's it, while we are among the sun

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson]"I would post and critique but people seem to not be critiquing"?

This thread breathes as you wish it to. That is all there is to it. It does not have any driving force beyond what is invested into it.

Mitch, DB. Don't start up again. You know the line between literary criticism and cyclical personal attacks. I didn't think the two of you needed a babysitter so don't devolve to that.

The literature in this thread can be up to a short story's length, the format is of the author's choosing as is the content.[/color]

[Guest Copycatalyst]

i'm still waiting for the war on love to stop hating
i'm still waiting for the war on hate to start loving
i'm still waiting for all the babies to stop crying
i'm still waiting for all the adults to stop lying
i'm still waiting for all the teens to stop sighing
i'm still waiting for all the consumers to stop buying
i'm still waiting for all the hopes to start flying
i'm still waiting for the dreams to come undeniably
i'm still waiting for the smiles to come defying
i'm still waiting for the tangles to stop tying
i'm still waiting for the waiting to stop waiting
i'm still keeping for the keeping of what's saving
i'm still waiting for the keeping of the waiting
i'm still keeping for the waiting of the saving
i'm still waiting for the free ones to stop slaving
i'm still waiting for the chains to lay me
i'm still waiting for the birds to sing daily
i'm still waiting to wait because it won't fail me
i'm still waiting for the love on war to stop hating
i'm still waiting for the hate on war to start loving

[Rachmaninoff]

This is just one of those out of no where mini poems that pop up. I haven't even bothered to try and polish it. Some times it's interesting to post something that you haven't tried to make better.

[CENTER][B]Two Cents[/B]

I?d like to say I?m happy
But it?s just not true
Nor can I say I?m feeling sappy
For what I am is blue

I thought that you were nice
But now I know you're not
You tore me up with each slice
That?s so totally not hot

Is this suppose to make sense?
Of course not it?s just my two cents! [/CENTER]

[Guest Copycatalyst]

We bend we bend we bend
a tunnel of our own reflectend
What a squirmhole for worms
Though we dirty the dirt
Though we toil the soil
The grass is rusting breaths
Of the wind of our deaths

We send we send we send
messiahs of our own to depths
What a twig for wings
Though we shiny the shine
Though we grime the grut
The feathers are let
Of the prism-winged arrest

We shed we shed we shed
Molted murder for nascency
Though we hurry the hurting
Though we metasect the intellect
The ignorance sparks wet
Of the abyssbliss mess

We led we led we led
Our widows to spiderweb
The gossamer goat herds
Million-eyed abused ferns
Sway termites to eat flesh

We said we said we said
Freedom is on parole
Though we locked it whole
In the darkest blackhole
To suck its own crime

We fed we fed we fed
Human swine to dine
Pretty apes for vapes
Discarded vapor weights
That fade to nothingshapes

We med we med we med
Candykiller psychotic drillers
Lock and latch the pillbox
To the zoloft of the mindspace
To stretch the stitches to erase

We bed we bed we bed
Wilting roses bleeding nectar
Vines of wings repeating insectors
The bees are sleeping stung
Dreams are noosed to hung

As corpses zombie alive to smile
After more slave hours of miles
The clowns of jesters sit on throne
Gently eating on all our bones

The neon-lit landscape is cratered
With the woes we can't escape
No amount of hedondawns can mask
The face of metamelody somebodies

We never were the words we said
We always lied on their pretend
And slept with their end
Giving birth to alive deads

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson][b]The Puppy[/b]

A puppy sat on my door step.

"It's alright." It said and looked up to me. "It's a long way."

"Isn't it though?" I asked and sipped my coffee. "It's a long, long way." My eyes stared listlessly at him.

The rain continued to pour. The dark sheets slid effortlessly down, down, down.. down. My front yard was cut into several pieces by streams of run off.

"I didn't really expect much." He said and scratched his ear.

"You never do." I looked into my coffee and at my reflection. "It's a flaw of yours."

The streams grew in size and began to overtake one another like snakes devouring their young.

"A flaw.." The puppy laughed at this. His tail wagged with great speed and he shook his head. "No, not quite. What is there to expect?"

"You are never exasperated."

"Indeed." The collective streams spoke aloud.

"Well," The puppy glanced between myself and the streams, "I don't see how being calm is much of a fault at all."

"Are you really?" The streams asked and formed one large lake just below my footsteps. A whirlpool erupted in the center of it. The trees in my front yard creaked and groaned before falling one by one into it.

I glanced at the rest of my coffee and made a face. Too strong. I threw it out into the whirlpool and watched it disappear into the whirlpool. A small sapling followed it.

"Am I really what?" The puppy took a step back from the edge of my porch.

"Calm. You seem to get nervous at random, but nervous none the less."

I grumbled as my car lurched hesitatingly into the gaping maw of the whirlpool. "Hey." I said.

"Sorry. I'm quite hungry." The whirlpool replied.

I sighed. "It's alright. I didn't much like that car anyway."

"Nervous?" The puppy snorted. "Very rarely do I get nervous."

"That last panic attack was fun for you, wasn't it?" The whirlpool foamed in laughter.

"Very rarely do I get nervous." The puppy repeated himself.

"Not true!" A large tree struggling against the whirlpool joined the conversation. It was a Chinese tree of some sort my mother had planted. It was very wise. "Not true in the least, you wish you were calm all the time."

"A wish, idle wish." The whirlpool added.

"No." The puppy laid down and closed his eyes. "No." He opened one eye. "No. What about you? You have your own problems."

"Hardly." The tree's branches shifted defiantly. "Name one."

"Just last week!," The puppy jumped up and glared at the tree, "Just last week you were complaining to me!"

The tree guffawed. It's leaves shifted violently as it did.

"Ah ha." The stream saw an opening and the waters violently struck the tree. It screamed and toppled over into the water and began to spin around the vortex.

"Damn it, look what you've done." The tree said and pointed to the puppy as it spun.

"That's what you deserve."

"You two should resolve your differences." I said and shook my finger at the puppy. "Now is not the time to fight."

The tree began to disappear into the whirlpool and with one last breath yelled, "Do not weep!" before falling down into the darkness.

"Weep, heh. For him?" The puppy sat down. "Who would?"

The water lapped over the edge of the front porch and I stepped back into my house. I turned to the puppy. "Would you come inside?"

"No." The puppy said with a sigh. "I'll stay here."

"Alright."

I closed the door and watched the waters rise up. The puppy stood and waded out into it.

He began to circle 'round. He did not cry out. He stared up into the gray sky.

"I am very sorry." The said quietly.

"It's alright. I'm weary anyway." The puppy tilted his head slightly. "Weary and ready for some sleep."

I opened the door and opened my mouth to say something to him. He looked and shook his head no at me, rendering me silent.

"Very rarely do I get nervous."[/color]

[Guest Copycatalyst]

Three days is the holy trinity of time
Three more days till we uncork that whine
Then splatter salpeterdust from hedonguns
Into the sky to watch neon-lit explosions
Jut the sky

Come on my American people
It'll be a bloody revolution
Painted in fireworks of blood
The cannons of the fifty stars
Spattered in explosive skyscars

Well the world's on constant
Revolution
Though we're still talking of
Evolution

We love the orbit
Of the human spin
The constellations
Of our human sins
Though the Earth
Is still what it is

The histories of our violence
The tyrant battle of us against us
The guns say a big bang universe hearse
While our words are crucified on memes
Left to worse

Well the world's on constant
Revolution
In its space
Though we're still talking of
Evolution

We love the orbit
Of the human spin
The constellations
Of our human sins
Though the Earth
Is still what it is

The guns say a big bang universe hearse
Exploding like a nova the northern lights
It's America flaring and sparking violent nights
It's another 4th of July and we don't have our rights

[Inkstitchling]

[quote name='Copycatalyst']
We love the orbit
Of the human spin
The constellations
Of our human sins
Though the Earth
Is still what it is[/QUOTE]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][SIZE="1"]Hello all, I've reappeared. And it seems in my absence my favorite poet here was banned. Mega-unjoy ^10.

[B]Times Remembered [/B]
(Yet another old poem because the muses have not favored my writing as of recent times)

Memories . . .
(am I sinking; have I drifted so far below the surface?...)
Sunlight & warmth & laughter
cool shadow & wind ruffled sourgrass
black ant lines in the drive
potted ferns & friendly cacti across the steps
terracotta tiles & a worn piano
a dilapidated chicken pen camouflaged
against the time darkened wood fence...

A silent film
She does not want to lose to the years
[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Break]

[b]Noon Grass[/b]

In the noon grass there are
electric crickets
and grasshoppers
snarling like generators.

To decorate the scene,
angular butterflies
rise and fall
like jagged stock charts
through the air.

Then the heat really lays into the day -
old women rest on benches,
delay the arduous ramble;

In the brambles
beetles worship the shade.

And in the distance,
summer children
gulp down lemonade.


[b]Bloackade At The Word Stockade[/b]

I've a date with inspiration,
So
I'm staying up late
to meet her on her way -
I'll catch her midstep
and ask,
confirming I'm her two o' clock.

the night will drag on,
uneventful,
her saying all the wrong things -
me with eyelids closing,
trying not to fall asleep.

but she'll catch me unawares
one night,
maybe frighten me so much
that worthy words will spill
like persipiration.

Good evening inspiration,
we've a long graft
ahead of us till dawn.


[b]Monday, 03:17[/b]

Tried to keep it
Short and sweet;

I'm much
Too bitter.


[b]Taking Ages[/b]

i'm sorry that i didn't
look my best last night.

this old face
takes time,
i am afraid.

be patient -
good days can be rare.

pair this with my lazy hands,
and you'll soon get the idea.

i fear that being
photogenic
is also not in my genetics,
but keep the camera ready
in case i feel steady enough
for the flash.

despite all that,
i'll take my chances.
i'll wait
for memorable advances.

--------------------------------------

And that'll be it.

[desertphoenix]

[COLOR="DarkRed"]My first poem, and it would probably be my last. I tend to abandon any constructive hobby I came across. This poem is inspired by the melody of "[B]San Francisco[/B]" by [B]Midicronica[/B]( the song used in the last episode of Samurai Champloo) and my weird ordeal where I can't strait up tell my ex-girlfriend I hate her,but I feel guilty that it's not the right thing to do.

[CENTER][B]Untitled[/B]

Not a day goes by,
That I wonder why,
Did I lose my mind?
Did I miss you?
Well now I?m sorry,

For all the hard times,
and all the good-byes.

And now my life just flies,
Now I?m asking why,
Did you cry for me?
How I could not see,
Well now I?m lonely.

I see you laughing,
I think now at me.

Not a day goes by,
That I wonder why,
Did I believe your lies?
Heard your forced cries?
When I hated you.
Well now I?m sorry.

For now I?m all right,
Cause now we don?t fight,
Well now I?m free.
[/CENTER][/COLOR]

[Raiha]

[COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"][CENTER]So here I am, slightly bereft, wondering just what sort of ideas people really have of me,
When they break things off as much as I do,
Do they feel hatred?
Does it sting them?
Do they have to get their own back and strike me?
Do they think I want to see their pictures?
Their happiness?
Their new girl?
Their...rebound?

I don't want to touch, to see, to feel, to hear, to know just how happy they become,
Because that's not what I have for me now,
Does he even know?
Does he have more?
Than just a cold and stupid ignorance,
That slaps me in the face,
Shocking me with sheer stupidity,
And you know?
I feel. ....betrayed.

There are rules to this and he's flied in the face of every single one of them,
Telling me he's sleeping with his new girl,
Telling me that she's not going to keep smoking,
A filthy Hypocrite!
If I'd smoked when we dated, he would've broken it off,
But he goes to her,
"I saw a chance and I took it."

No.
You just didn't want to have to face the pain of being single by yourself,
So you ran to the nearest female that wasn't a drug addict,
Or dating a 40 year old,
Or on crystal meth,
I think you need new friends.

So here I am, and I've seen his 'pictures' that he showed me,
Just to make me feel 'happy for him' when in reality they choked me,
With angry bitter sobs,
Grabbing my throat with two hands,
Wrapping me in a sort of hollow grief,
And now here I am,
I didn't want to cry,
I don't want to feel,
I don't want to care.

Most of me doesn't want to do this,
But there's a hideous, ugly part of my soul,
That wants to hate,
To take my bitter revenge,
To become Medea,
To feel the hot burst of blood from the heart,
So my pain is realized.

He's choked his pain so he won't feel it anymore,
But we all know,
It'll come bubbling up to the surface again by another name,
With another face,
And someday he'll know my pain,
And suffer as I have suffered.

But not by my hand,
I will not be the one to be pathetic,
To be as small as him,
And I will hide my pain,
Cloak it in indifference as he's done,
And be the adult in this annoying situation,
And that way I will be above the petty reproaches,
Of people I know.

Because after these words fall to page,
I am myself after all.[/CENTER][/FONT][/COLOR]

[2010DigitalBoy]

[COLOR="DarkOrange"]Very interesting sort of poetic short story you have there raiha! I enjoyed your story, and I can't help but wonder if you're going through this right now, seeing as it felt very realistic in that aspect.

To take it apart into my reactions toward it, the part I liked the most was the last three stanzas and the following two lines. That part had a great descriptive nature that felt powerful. The first 2 stanzas are a good lead-in, I'd say.

The third and fourth lines were the only ones I felt kind of iffy about, cuz they sound kind of like a frantic teenager ranting over this guy or something. these two definitely give us a better view of the situation, but their kind of unnecessary and are kind of just ragging on the guy rather than describing your reaction to it, like the rest of the poem. The 5th stanza works perfectly fine, thuogh. With the 3rd and 4th stanza removed, it reads much more powerfully.[/COLOR]

[Allamorph]

[FONT=Arial]This ole' thing's comin' back because I really didn't feel like starting a new thread for something so small and with so little real independent discussion value. Plus, it's a good idea.

So yeah, despite all my yammerings about how I dislike poetry, and much to my chagrin, this little tidbit wrote itself in basically twenty seconds this morning, and I think I accidentally spent another five seconds getting the rhythm right before I realized what was going on. Confound it all. :p

      [B][U]Untitled for Irony[/U][/B]

My attitude is cavalier?
  I haven't a sense of shame.
And if you wonder why, my dear,
  You've only yourself to blame.[/FONT]