Exilian
Art, Writing, and Learning: The Clerisy Quarter => Writing, Poems, AARs, and Stories - The Storyteller's Hall => Poetry and Artistic Writing => Topic started by: Caradìlis on January 01, 2018, 09:55:29 PM
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I know it's not Halloween, but there's a moon outside my window that is looking at me very menacingly, so I just felt like writing this...
Werewolf
Through the window shining bright,
Gleams the moon into the night.
And with torment, pain and ache,
An ancient curse keeps me awake.
Howling, cursing at the moon,
Wishing it was over soon,
Every full moon is the same,
On each one I curse my name.
Pills and potions can't help me,
From this pain I can't be free.
Blooded red is my demise,
When the dreaded moons arise.
On such nights I toss and turn,
When did I this torment earn?
And on mornings I do fear,
I have done some damage here.
I do wonder what I've done,
That warrants what I have become.
Why the Gods do punish me,
I will never truely see.
Understanding is not all,
The rising full moons still do call.
And so I'll howl and curse all night,
At a full moon shining bright.
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It's really good :) A couple of minor things - "truly" is he accepted spelling of that word, and maybe "And on each one" or "Upon each one" might scan better?
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Woops, I didn't have that one in my doodling notebook... :] Thank you... :)
Yes, you are right, "Upon each one" definitely flows nicer... :)
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I started writing another fairy tale today and kind of got inspired (more like distracted, since I ended up writing this instead of the rest of the fairy tale... :))
The Wolf
Once upon a time,
In a forest near,
There was a story, yet untold,
That all the world should hear.
There lived a girl,
Young and innocent,
Ant through the forest deep,
To grandmother's house she went.
In her hands a basket,
With lots of things so good,
And behind her flowing,
A deep red velvet hood.
And down the path,
And through the wood,
Ran happily singing:
Little Red Riding-Hood.
But halt, who is he?
Who crosses her way?
It is big wolf
With fur of grey.
'Hello', says Red,
'Hello', comes the reply,
And after some talking,
They pass eachother by.
But back at home,
When she tells the tale,
Of how she saw a wolf,
They all grow pale.
They take up the pitchforks
And each one their gun,
And through the dark forest,
The huntsmen run.
It matters not,
That the girl is well,
For man likes the wolf,
Just for his hide to sell.
I walked through a forest a long time ago,
There I found a tombstone stand that read:
In the year 1847,
The last wolf was here shot dead.
And I walk throught the forest and think of a time,
When you roamed here free and the forest was thine.
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This is a really nice twist on the original, excellent :)
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Thank you, still working on the real thing, would probably be easier if I was less scrupelous and just settled for killing my protagonists from time to time... Well, you never know, I might just do that...
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I don't even know how this one happened, I'm not even sure why I started writing (with a pen in my notebook, I mean, I was trying to work on a fairytale on my computer...) Oh, well, worse things have happened (I hope...)
The Black Hole
Out there in eternal night,
Out there up in space,
Out there where in starlight,
The planets dance with grace.
Far across the distance,
Far beyond our place of home,
Far transcending stars' old dance,
That is where they roam.
Blacker than the night,
Darker than a grave,
When you are within its sight,
There's nothing you can save.
But a hole so black,
Is a magical thing,
Though nothing comes back,
Can not you hear it sing?
A song so old,
That time it forgot,
Of fire and cold,
And magic you know not.
A tale of the light,
Which badly it needs,
Out there in the night,
Where a lonely life it leads.
For where there now is woe,
And where there now is night,
There once was long ago,
The universe's brightest light.
And even if - to untrained eyes -
This light's forever died,
The darkness there is but disguise,
The light still hides inside.
For where there's darkness, there'll be fiery light,
And where there's fear, hope's spark is gleaming bright.
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Ooh, I like these, especially The Wolf. :)
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Thank you, it's actually quite reminicent of the fairytales I usually write, I might post one or two of them at some point, when I get around to editing them... :)
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I have no explanation for this, it just sort of happened...
Rage, Rage against the Dying of the Light
Somedays I sit there in the night,
And wonder what I'm fighting for,
Easy it seems to shut the door,
And walk free into the light.
I gaze around myself and see,
There's naught but darkness here,
Naught but darkness, pain and fear,
Out there and inside of me.
But when to go I am prepared,
When almost I have given in,
I find a spark still glow within,
Whose fire has me soon ensnared.
Burning with hope, I stand and fight,
Never to give up, nor ever to give in,
To fight a war that I will never win,
The war of darkness 'gainst the light.
And you can do what e'r you may,
Threaten, push and hurt and maim,
What does not kill is my own gain,
As I live to fight another day.
I will burn against the night,
With the fire of a thousand stars,
And neither wounds nor any scars,
Can ever halt my raging fight.
I'll still fight throughout the night,
Through the day, throughout the age,
And still I fight and rage and rage,
Against the dying of the light.
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I got bored in class this morning... (in my defense, we were only getting our essays returned and I was still listening)
Bored
My mind is soaring high,
My thoughts on wings do fly,
From this class I want to flee,
To get out and to be free.
Listening to you drone on,
My attention is far gone,
Ten minutes seem so long ago,
How long will this keep going for.
And when this class is fin'lly done,
And when home is where I've gone,
Nothing happened in this class,
That I'll later need to pass.
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Something more lighthearted (I think)...
Stardust
Long ago and far from earth,
I was born in darkest night,
In a star's fires burning bright,
The universe to me gave birth.
Atoms insignificant and small,
Flew into the world so wide,
Where they among the stars now glide,
Or down onto the planets fall.
Some of those falen ones made me,
And as I look up at the sky,
I wish that I still could fly,
And be like my brothers: free.
Half of me is here on earth,
Singing sadly to the night,
While half of me is shinign bright,
Where a star to me gave birth.
I don't belong around here, no,
Here is only half of me,
And now I fin'ly see,
Where it is that I must go.
Half my heart and half my soul,
Is half the world away
And from oh so far astray,
I still can hear them call.
Among the stars out there, you see,
Out there high above the sky,
Where my lost brothers nightly fly,
That is where I'm meant to be.
For all of us are stardust and all of us belong,
Out there in the starry night, in a poem, tale or song.
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So, as you can probably guess from this, cooking happened...
Soup
In a pot on the fire
A heavenly smell,
Whoever knew
This would mix so well.
Just a pot full of water
And a prime boiléd beef
Some roots and some leek,
And pepper and laurel leaf.
It boils in the kettle,
For a long enough time,
But trust me on this:
The result is sublime.
I’m grateful to them,
Lone hermits or group,
Who long ago discovered,
The secret of making soup.
Now a telling scent from the kettle does call,
There’s soup on the table now for us all.
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I was doodling today...
Fly away
Fly away to the distant stars with me,
Where we belong and we can be free.
Past the moon into an everlasting night,
Where suns and stars are burning bright.
Fly to a galaxy far, far away,
Lightyears from our Milkyway.
Past Mars and Jupiter, into the dark,
On our spaceship, on our Arc.
Fly with me to a newer earth,
Where there's still hope and love and mirth.
Past all these planets, away from this sun,
To somewhere, where peace has already won.
Fly to another world with me,
To a ew sky and to a new sea.
Forward, my friends, into the unknown,
One day we shall find a place of our own.
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Since today is Cyril and Methodius Day (which I wish you a very happy one), I wrote a poem about it...
Requiem for a Flower
or Cyril and Methodius Day
There is a wilted rose
Upon my window sill,
It’s life draws to a close,
It’s story sadder still.
Why did my dear sad rose,
Now have to die so soon?
Is it just thrown to crows,
So that lovers may swoon?
Oh, flower dear to me,
I know you died in vain,
Cannot all of you see,
That this is just insane?
Three-hundred-sixty-four,
These other days are too,
For showing you adore,
And making sure they knew.
If you cannot on those,
Convince someone you care,
What help does you a rose?
None, though it may be fair.
What help does you a day,
Of pure materialism,
What help does it, I pray?
It’s just consumerism.
So, what now shall we do?
Here is what I would say:
Let’s celebrate now too,
Cyril-Methodius-Day.
A festival quite great,
Of language, books, my word,
It’s truly the best fete,
Of which ever I’ve heard.
So, don’t murder a rose,
But read a book today,
From opening to close,
And spread the word and say:
There is another way to celebrate today,
Because today, it’s Cyril and Methodius Day.
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Because we all need a bit of sunshine every once in a while... :)
Dawn
The night has fallen all ‘round me,
And I despair – much dark I see,
My sun, my happiness is gone,
I feel abandoned, feel undone.
But as I lean my tired head,
Heavy with sorrow fear and dread,
Against a gnarled, old oaken tree,
I see the light surrounding me.
The stars are twinkling, shining bright,
The moon is gleaming through the night,
But this dark night grows darker still,
And in the wind, there is a chill.
But I turn to the eastern sky,
For all this darkness I’ll defy,
And I will wait through darkest night,
Until the sun is rising bright.
The darkness may seem black and dim,
But this night is not all too grim,
And I’ll wait out the dying night,
I know the sun will soon shine bright.
For every night must come to end,
A new dawn’s rise will be your friend,
A new sunrise, a newer day,
It does not seem too far away.
I still have hope and I breathe free,
Despite the dark surrounding me,
I lean back with a whispered yawn:
Night’s always darkest before Dawn.
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It's a good poem - well done! :)
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It's finally my favourite month of the year, so I wrote a poem for her... :)
Queen April
Janus has hailed the year,
With skies both cold and clear,
And February’s an icy king,
And Mars has called to spring.
But April wears her flowing bright green gown,
And in her hair a periwinkle crown,
She dances in the snow, the rain and hail,
And sings when sun and cloudless skies prevail.
With every step a flower rears its head,
From roots and trees we long have thought were dead.
And beauteous rays of sunshine kiss the earth,
Which to new grass and flowers will give birth.
And April wears her flowing bright green gown,
And in her hair a periwinkle crown,
She dances in the snow, the rain and hail,
And sings when sun and cloudless skies prevail.
The sweetest scent of blossoms fills the breeze,
The air is full of busy, bustling bees,
Once more, the birds are singing - can you hear?
Rejoice with them for spring is fin'lly here.
Queen April wears her flowing bright green gown,
And in her hair a periwinkle crown,
She dances in the snow, the rain and hail,
And sings when sun and cloudless skies prevail.
And some days there is lightning cross the sky,
Some days the clouds with thunderous tears will cry,
Some days there's snow, some days there's hail or rain,
Some days the golden sun doth shine in vain.
But April wears her flowing bright green gown,
And in her hair a periwinkle crown,
She dances in the snow, the rain and hail,
And sings when sun and cloudless skies prevail.
Yes, April wears her flowing bright green gown,
And in her hair a periwinkle crown,
She dances in the snow, the rain and hail,
And sings when sun and cloudless skies prevail.
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I was working and wanted to motivate myself, so a lit a candle and got a bit too inspired...
Candlelight
Piles of homework everywhere,
Pens and paper here and there,
Chaos drowns my poor old desk,
Looking awfully grotesque.
But among those quills and pens,
Hope has placed a last defence:
Light through all that mess does shine,
Coming from this candle mine.
All this work I have to do,
But I know that I'll pull through,
I have worked all day, all week,
Sleep - they say - is for the weak.
On my table there's a light,
Shining there throughout the night,
Dancing, whispering, telling me:
You'll be fine, for I believe in thee.
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I'm annoyed... Sorry about the swearing...
Summer Sun
Dear summer sun,
I hate you, hate your stupid face,
You wake me up at 5 am,
I find that a disgrace.
My flat is not a sauna,
It least ain't s'posed to be,
And still you bitch make sure,
It feels like 70 degree.
The tram is hot,
And lacks in air,
I barely can breathe,
And curse you in despair.
You burn my skin,
That really hurts a lot,
You may think that's funny,
But it is definitely not.
My head is aching,
And you're to blame,
I know you cannot change that,
But I hate you all the same.
I sit here full of hate,
And full disgust of you,
But there is still hope left in me:
'Cause Winter is coming for you too!
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I love it :)
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I wrote this two weeks ago, but it fits best right now. Happy 2019 everyone!
Happy New Year
Snow is falling,
On my blood red cap,
And flocks of white are catching,
In the wool of my red coat.
All too soon, the year will turn,
As years must always do,
And I stand at the crossroads,
Looking back and looking on.
It's funny, what a year ago,
Seemed such a certainty,
It's funny what I thought I knew,
Of who I was to be.
And now the year will turn,
No longer do I know,
But I look to the future,
And know there will be more.
Another year is coming,
And I am wiser still,
I'll face the future knowing,
The things I learnt this year.
So come New Year,
And teach me more,
Of what this world can do,
Of all that I can be.
I won't forget,
What's in the past,
But really, I can't wait,
For all I'll see next year.
I'll step into the garden,
With fireworks ablaze,
A bell, a waltz, may all go well,
A Happy New Year, my friends.
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It's a very good poem :)
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Been a while since I posted here... Don't ask me where this one came from, I have no idea, it just sort of kinda happened...
I'll rewrite the End
Sing me the song of your darkest night,
A tune that takes you far away,
Into darkness and despair,
Sing me a song of all your pain,
I’ll be the moon and all the stars,
I’ll burn the dark away.
Paint me the picture of your greatest fear,
A colourful atrocity that drags you down,
Into darkness and despair,
Paint me a picture of all your pain,
I’ll be your knight, your sword, your shield,
I’ll drive the monsters all away.
Tell me the tale of your worst memory,
A lost child walking down a lonely path,
Into darkness and despair,
Tell me a tale of all your pain,
I’ll be your sign, I’ll point the way,
I’ll lead you from the dark.
Show me the scene of all your broken dreams,
A tragedy where all your actors drown,
In darkness and despair,
Show me a scene of all your pain,
I’ll be your hero, I will fight,
I’ll turn the tide.
Play me the tune of all your despair,
A melody that pulls you down,
Into darkness and despair,
Play me a tune of all your pain,
I’ll be the sun's first beams of light,
I’ll be the hope the morning brings.
Write me the story of your life,
Don’t leave anything aside,
Tell me of pain and suffering and strife,
Tell me of things you can’t abide.
But let me lend my strength and aid,
Let me dry those tears away,
I’ll be the light that will not fade,
I’ll be warmth that’s here to stay.
Sing me of darkness,
I’ll sing you of light,
Paint me a nightmare,
I’ll draw you a dream,
Write me a tragedy,
And I’ll rewrite the End.
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Nice to see you here! I like it, there's a good hopefulness to it. :)
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Haha, yes, it shocked me too, when I saw how long I hadn't posted anything here :'D