I'll tell thee everything I can,
It twas me.
There's little to relate.
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I'll tell thee everything I can,
It twas me.
There's little to relate.
I'll tell thee everything I can, there's little to relate
and when enough is laid
to say almost all that is made
too much would not aid
and hardly would not faith
even when it's late
life aims it rate judging it won't fade.
YesNo Great imagery, but you left out the second part of the quote: You had "I'll tell thee everything I can" but left out "There's little to relate."
Prendrelmick: Not only used the lines well, but I'm thinking you know the original poem.
Melanie: Very minimalist poetry!
Cacian: Nice little poem.
Enjoyed all the entries, but the nod goes to prendrelmick, who must surely have read the original poem!
You're up!
i hadn't read that particular one , but I know Carroll's style and tried to copy it - where you start a little oddly, then go completely surreal, while maintaining a perfectly reasonable tone.
Next. From the opening paragraph of Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier
"Time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls,"
have fun.
Stonehenge
I remember it like a dream
those many years ago
(more than mere years ago)
standing on mystic nights
beneath Mother Moon
within the sacred circle of stones.
They alone know the secrets
of their creation, and they remain
silent, watching guardians
of the world.
But there are those who ever since
come to pass through,
to kneel at their feet,
to pray to the cosmic skies,
to feel the trembling of power
that even then was ancient.
Now when there are fewer
who listen to the old gods
(though I assure you they are not dead, they are not lost)
as the world has reshaped itself
and long lay the bones of the ones
who hold the key to the mystery of the past.
I stand here once more,
though only briefly, as the ravens
come to my dreams and bring me,
and I am transported through time and space,
time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls,
they remain untouched, ever daunting,
in all their stoic majesty,
just as they did once upon a time ago,
when I came to answer my calling.
A Prison Doesn't Always Have Iron Bars...
He weeps as he stares at the walls of his prison
Doing life in solitary is so freaking hard
Walls built out of fear and rejection
His own hands built the cell that imprisons him now
Some say that time is the antidote for everything
That if you wait things out, sunshine follows the rain
Yet time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls
No window, no doorway, no way of escape
People can see through the walls he cannot pass
They see openings that are hidden from his eyes
No one takes his hand and leads him out of his prison
So he sits and weeps behind timeless brick walls...
Pendragon
(C) 9/2/2013
Time would never wreck that wall
Symmetrical or not.
There's others who might help it fall
If they think they have got
The urge to change things. After all,
Why should a person care
If something short meets something tall
To block something out there?
That ancient wall is not yet gone.
Huge hints of it remain.
It's blocking our fresh seeded lawn,
But lets through sun and rain.
Someone piled each stone upon
Another perfectly
Symmetrical then time moved on
To us so we might see.
The winner is Pendragon. - well written and profound.
Nice work.
My Muse has been stymied for the time being.
Thank you, very much
OK back to my pulp fiction/OTR roots for this quote:
"In the roaring heart of the crucible, steel is made."
Good Luck!
Forged in Fire
It was a land of fire,
barren and arid,
unforgiving,
depraved of nourishment
and sheltering comfort,
within this waste
the child was forsaken,
defenseless,
with only blood,
as often his own, than not
to quench his thirst.
Within the roaring heart
of the crucible
steel is made,
and against the odds
the child became
a man who learned
to watch the world
with weary, cold eyes,
yet, within his hands
he held the power to heal,
though death was no stranger
of his, but a constant shadow.
His heart burned,
not with hatred,
but with a passion for love,
his strength carried him through,
and hardened him in places,
sharpened his mind,
attuned his senses,
but did not leave him brittle,
and merciless.
The land of the lost
did not leave him broken,
or twisted, did not rob him
of beauty and tenderness,
he learned to forge his own path,
and began the quest to find
the home he had never known.
In the roaring heart of the crucible, steel is made
it is to sake
wood from cutting its fame.
steel has a wheel
it turns heat and then it keeps.
wood
has a mood.
it turns dust when it heats.
but then it heaps
and it grows.
and it leaps.
all around nature is
its reap.
beauty has its seek
but wood has it deep
steel would not seep.
Total lack of interest, except for the faithful two; Dark Muse just barely edges out cacian! Congrats,Muse!
The quote was from the cover blurb for The Avenger Warner Paperbacks
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HVibMIpqF-...bie+Warner.JPG
Thank you, I will have a new quote up soon.
Ok here is the next line:
Some are born to Endless Night
Auguries of Innocence ~ William Blake
Deadline - Nov. 5
We hide from the sun
All pale as death
Eyes too sensitive for daylight
We walk in the shadows
We hide in concealing dark
The Night is our Mother
Some are born to Endless Night
To embrace the shadows
To thrive in the darkness
Knowing the secrets men hide in the shadows
Knowing what people conceal in the darkness
Deeds that they bury beneath our Mother's starry skirt
But they think us fools...
Pendragon
10/24/2013
Some are born to endless night
Though I'd like mine an endless day.
Some like both, the dark, the light.
Some don't care, let come what may.
Ok the Deadline is coming up in a few days and so far we have only two entries. Any other takers?
some are born to endless nights
awake
supercharged
idealistic pasts
to their mast
they least
seem to ask
unknowing
of their cast
wishing they could
too
one day rest at last.
bump :)
I haven't forgotten, I am just not feeling very well at the moment. Hopefully I will be able to get to it tomorrow.
It's okay. Take your time and take care of yourself. This can wait.
(Btw, I tried to participate and the quote was great but it made me think of sad things and I just didn't feel like writing a sad poem at this time. Sad things makes for good poetry though and I really liked William Blake's Auguries of Innocence)
Thank you, and yes I can understand that. I do love Blake, he is one of my favorites.Quote:
Originally Posted by Melanie
Some are born to endless night,
Try to avoid those folks on sight,
If you don't 'twould serve you right,
When they give your neck a nasty bite.
Thank you everyone who entered, you all did great, and this was a tough one to decide.
YesNo: I think this was an amusing play on the old rhyme Some like it hot, some like it cold. I enjoyed this poem, and particularly liked the last line.
cacian: I really enjoyed this one, even if as always I remain somewhat baffled by its meaning. You have such a great use of words, and your poems always beg for a second or third reading. I particularly enjoyed the first few lines. It kind of made me think of the Beats or the lost generation. Idealistic artists perhaps having their delusions shattered.
prendrelemick: This one made me laugh out loud. I enjoyed the bit of dark humor it. I am glad you were able to contribute before the judging commenced.
and the winner is.....
Pendragon: Of course I love this one. I very much enjoyed the dark atmosphere of this poem, and I think it was quite appropriate for Halloween. There was some great imagery. Very delightfully Gothic.
Dark Muse I hope you are feeling better and thank you for the feedback,
Pendragon congratulations !!!:)
Yes, I am thank you.Quote:
Originally Posted by cacian
Sorry about the delay, I have a lot of personal issues at the moment
Let's see:
"Whose woods these are I think I know" is the new line, quoted from Robert Frost--"Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening"
Let's set the deadline for my birthday, November 24th. Good luck, all! :thumbsup:
Whose woods are these I think I know.
I used to walk here long ago
And watch the trees turn sun to shade.
A tiny brook rushed on below.
The debts from those years have been paid.
They seem like trifles as they fade
To memories that won't move on
But tease me with the dreams I made.
Those dreams were nothing in the dawn.
When light exposed them they were gone.
When love moved on I meant to say,
"To whom, my dear, are you now drawn?"
But I said nothing that cold day
Just walked these woods in the same way
I've walked these woods let come what may
And walked these woods let come what may.
Calling this a Frankly Wild and Frosty Tail
We were heading southwest,
moon on my back,
riding shotgun with my master
on a swayback gelding.
Master’s name is Currier Ives.
I am Buck the IV,
descended from that Great Yukon tail
out of London, as in Jack.
We chanced upon a grove of Dogwoods,
that lost their bark,
after winter’s first frost nipped their blooms.
Great Horned owl bellowed,
across a landscape bathed in moon’s daguerreotype.
Trigger paused,
his breath split by the bit.
Master Ives pondered and thirsty.
A primordial notion
led me forward into the wood
whereupon I met
two paths diverged northwest and southeast.
Yes, yes, I’m recalling
whose woods these are I think I know.
stories from my past,
conveyed through barks, pawed symbols in the snow.
It was here,
where Captain Thornton so many years ago
scooped to slack
his thirst with forbidden crystals.
A shiver shake,
brought me back to the present, turning round,
I was terrified,
seeing Master Ives reach down on the northwest path
to quench his thirst.
My hind quarters lunged, I made a burst
to stop the hand;
barking out “that’s where the huskies go,
don’t you eat that yellow snow!”
I led Master Ives and Trigger down the southeast path.
It was less travelled.
-----------------------
My apologies to Robert Frost, Jack London, Frank Zappa, Currier and Ives and Roy Rogers.
A Dogwood tree:
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...nensis_ies.jpg
Parting song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLIppgE45wM
The Girl and the Wolf
The girl in red walked these paths
uncharted and unknown
with such an innocent guile
but inwardly she smiled
"Whose woods these are I think I know"
she spoke with a flutter of breath
upon the crisp morning air.
"Than more the fool are you"
the voice from unknown shadows spoke,
while the wolf grinned his toothy smile,
she twirled around, her face flush,
her eyes aglitter,
but it was not fear which stirred
within her young robin's breast
as her eyes befell upon the beast
who slinked from the shadows
in silent stealth contemplating
this delicious morsel, who stood
atremble, and yet so daring before him,
"I have lost my way"
she said but there seemed a coy
curl of her lips and flick of her lash
while unabashed she fixed her gaze upon him,
"And I will be happy but to lead you farther astray"
said he, and his voice had the allure
of the darkest depths, and deepest mysteries,
she was more than lost,
and there was no turning back,
with shocking determination she laid her hand
upon his back, her fingers sifting through
the coarse silk of his fur,
and so she followed where he led,
like a lamb lead to slaughter,
and yet, it was triumph
not defeat she felt offering a last
wistful smile to the world
she once knew.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
After the fall,
Winter.
Silence sits like snow on branches,
We are bent down by it's heaviness,
Our stares pointed as needles,
Hearts hard set like amber resin,
Thoughts harsh like pine bark,
As unrelenting as tree root,
We wander back over frozen ground,
Past fallen boughs
Down hopeless paths,
These are our woods,
We are lost .
whose woods these are I think I know
they seem to blend and grow
to the sun and bow
every day
the scene is a simple glow
rivers from the sea
pebbled combed and sown
ride down to a moat
castle styled and homed
and
pathways made of trees
ebonies and teaks
wind out to a foam
fairy land of tones
to the skies above
it's mardi gras of shows.
Sorry, I'm going through very hard times (mentally ill). Bipolar flare-up. Winner is Dark Muse. seemed to be a retelling of Red Riding Hood.
Pendragon I hope you are feeling better soon:seeya:. Dark Muse congratulations!!
Thank you and yes you are correct. Hope you feel better soon, I will have the new quote up soon.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Ok next quote:
The vast immortal suns, and the long-enduring pensive moons
From On the Beach At Night by Walt Whitman
Deadline Dec. 5
All gathered here we read the sacred runes,
Neath the vast immortal suns, and the long-enduring pensive moons
Time for feasting, the event comes soon
To revel, and drink, to carve a fowl under the harvest moon
The vast immortal suns first saw our race
The long-enduring pensive moons our hearts embraced
The annual ritual of contrite thanks
As the feast is served on the preserved oak planks
Of the ship that brought us to this fair shore
So we devour our share and long for more...
(C) 2013 Pendragon
"Above us are the vast immortal suns,
And all those long-enduring pensive moons
And most of them we cannot even see."
And so he rambled on methodically.
Immortal this, and more immortal that
While I began to weary with his words
Rejecting them with righteous, rich despair,
Until I yelled, "There's nothing Godly there!"
That silenced him for longer than I thought.
I figured he was strong while I was weak.
He never spoke to me again of what
He saw through inner visions of the sky,
While I, consumed with sparkling mortal things,
Delighted in the conquest I had made,
Delaying daily with reality
Deep in my cave, a lush, well-furnished grave.
Hey what's up. Don't mind me joining in!
I wanted to try out a game other than the Picture Poetry one so I ended up here. It seemed really interesting to me so I'm giving it a try ^^
Here's my poem:
The vast, immortal sun and moon
The vast, immortal sun and moon, floating in the sky.
Forever turning, switching places. How do they get by?
Man fights for freedom, and we strive for immortality.
While sun and moon are stuck up high there, in captivity.
And all that they can do is gaze, and yearn for company.
But all that they can see ahead’s the Earth, happy and free.
They want to get together, so they start their endless chase.
To meet, ever so rarely, in that blessed, short embrace.
To us, it’s an event that seems like night during the day.
To them, it’s an occurrence that feels so blissful and gay.
They never asked to do this job, but no one hears their voice.
We never asked them anything, they never had a choice.
But dutifully these vast eternal bodies keep their shine.
They still provide us with the light, and ever so divine.
It’s funny when you realise we are taking them for granted.
Their endless grace with which we have become so disenchanted.
Sometimes I wish that we could help them, bring them down to Earth.
Where they can live a mortal life together, full of mirth.
I must say that I am pretty happy with how it turned out. It was a lot of fun to make, too! So fun that it made me stay up 'till extremely late.
- Evo