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a topic in Poetry, a part of the RPG forum.

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For the assorted types of poetry.


Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Corvidae on Wed Aug 08, 2007 9:14 am

Just a few things that've popped in to my mind recently :)

Flickering light, clicking and tapping
of mechanical words,
I'm pulled in to the void again and
again it hurts,
Nagging and sapping everything
and I'm sick of it all,
Sick of flying high and then
experiencing the fall,
Sick of the void and all
the unknown faces,
Sick of being dragged
to unmapped places,
Sick of acting natural
when inside I'm aching,
Sick of the hollow smiles
and sick of all the faking.

Torn between a limbo
of floating and flying,
Split between the planes
of living and dying,
I'm stuck in a trap where
everyone is listening,
But no one is hearing,
Where eye's are open wide,
but there's no where here,
That I could ever hide from
the descending fear.

It's easy for you
behind the never-ending screens,
You never get to feel it inside,
that infinty of screams,
And every morning when you rise
and feel you have a lease on life,
Make things work and see it all,
See it through my eyes.

That knotting pain deep down inside,
I realise that I hadn't cried,
Not before now, not for a long time,
But those harsh words,
They cracked my pride,
Humiliation reared up and I couldn't hide.

Realisation strikes again and
begins to put thoughts in to my head,
Again and again they seep like venom
and I'm helpless like the child
I am, the child everyone sees,
And free tears fall down past shuddering
sobs and cries,
And inside, the fire dies.


A wooden mass moves through the trees,
Wheels straining amongst green crocks,
Inside are dreams that nobody sees,
A lantern sways as the carriage rocks.

A pallid figure clasps the reigns,
Of haunting, onyx, ghost-like steeds,
A wolf howls and seems to drain,
The feeling that this is a dream.

The movement stops and all falls still,
The birds stop calling, the animals mute,
A voice is heard, enraged and shrill,
The carriage door opens, revealing dispute.

A twisted pale phantom makes prints on the ground,
Leaves crunch solemnly underfoot,
His robes seep crimson and he makes no sound,
His mind is open but his lips are shut.

The horse-keeper sighs and lowers his head,
He feels the silence, the pain, the strain,
Everyone in that carriage would be long dead,
And his sire was out on the hunt again.


I'm sat astride a throne in heaven,
I believe I need to cry,
I'm in the circle of the Eleven,
They're ugly in my eyes,
And as the snow begins to fall,
The hunter prowls the ground,
On it he stands tall and proud.

Lead me to the path that winds the wind,
Show me, the way to the resurrection,
Sorry, father for I have sinned,
Show me to this fallen connection,
I am thinking about correction,
For now in your arms I lay bleeding,
Do I still belong in your special selection?
Your broken system on my soul is feeding.

What could I say as you pushed me away?
Making me fall down to this dank place,
Even the night is better than the day,
In broken mirrors my displaced face,
Seems to haunt my twisted figure,
For broken wings and distorted things,
Surely what I think, I cannot say?


Creative critisism is very much welcome ;)

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Re: Poetryyy...

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kouketsu on Sat Aug 11, 2007 10:07 am

Second time today this has happened to me, where I write a well-thought long message with all sorts of good stuff and then something screws up and the whole thing gets obliterated. Dammit.

Well, this is probably going to be considerably less than what I was going to say on your works, but it'll be decent anyways, I promise.

So, with your first one, I liked the general writing style, but it seemed to lack a sense of direction. Like I felt as if after reading the first set of lines I already could predict what was coming with the following stanzas. Although you could've been going for that effect, in which case ignore what I'm saying there. That 'stream of consciousness' style works well though, with your stanzas getting progressively shorter as you go along. Keep that sort of concept, but work around it a little to make the poem ultimately go somewhere that you want it to go and you'll be good. Also, I noticed it seemed to go along more like a set of lyrics than anything. Intentional?

I absolutely loved the second one, "Vampire." Everything was working for me in that. The writing style was impeccable and quite unique, it approached a brilliant finish, and the whole way through worked very well if read aloud. Keep it for sure.

I still don't know yet how I completely feel about, "Astride Your Throne", as it seems relatively one sided to an extent. I hate commenting on actual content in poetry because we all have our different methods of self-expression and everything and it's totally not my place, but I think it flowed in such a way that to end it with a contrast to the rest of the poem would've been nice. So often do I read works that proceed like this, but they never present any alternative, no light at the end of the tunnel, no hope, you know? It's not a bad thing to toss those things in there, especially when they work well in contrast with everything else. I also think it'd be a nice finish for your reader or speaker to find something that they can connect with and hold onto. Otherwise, work on the flow of it a little bit (And see if you can't emulate some of that writing style from "Vampire") and you've got yourself a winner.

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