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Jupiter Sunrise Forum    Talk    Talk Amongst Yourselves    Writting « Previous topic | Next topic » Pages: 1 ... 45 46 47 48  Reply Notify of replies Send Topic Print    Author  Topic: Writting  (Read 6470 times) NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #690 on: Jul 22nd, 2004, 5:22am » Quote Modify quick poem i wrote yesterday (7/21/04) of course for steve i hated to leave him yesterday   "Just for you"   Every breath i breathe Every word i speak is for you   Every gesture i make Every move i take Is all for you   Every kiss i share Every hug i give Is just for you   This is a poem   A poem of love Just for you IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #691 on: Jul 22nd, 2004, 12:40pm » Quote Modify casey, you must be kidding!! you're a poet and you haven't shared?  When do we get to read your work? IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #692 on: Aug 14th, 2004, 4:37pm » Quote Modify just a little symbolism for you all...   i thought i heard live music out my window, so i put on my shoes and a clean shirt to go outside and follow it. As I began walking, feet clomping and resistant against new tar, Knowing that someone would prefer it if I stayed inside tonight, it started to grow louder. I didn't know exactly what I would do when I found it, only that I wanted to be closer to it--   as is the nature of live music. When I had gotten halfway down my road,   close enough that I could almost hear the lyrics, enjoying the unique riffs, wondering whose house it was that had these musicians outdoors on this summer night, it   stopped. I paused...   ...waiting for something to start again, but it didn't. And so, as sensible girls do at night, I turned and went back down the dead-end street in the direction I'd come from at the very end, knowing the opportunity to meet the creators of the live music was gone forever. something about the drums, from up in my room,   clued me in that it was the real thing, and not just someone's stereo blasting loudly at a party; but even as bass notes began to sound again when i'd reached my driveway, I pretended not to hear and walked back to the security of my home. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Casey YaBB God/goddess     Gender: Posts: 853 Re: Writting « Reply #693 on: Aug 14th, 2004, 5:13pm » Quote Modify What?!...but...I, I have shared!!  Look back in this post, you'll find a few of my works.  But I don't have any of my old poems with me this summer, being as I'm on the road and everthing.  But I'm working on a brand new one for my brother who's going off to war soon.  I'll post it when it's finished. IP Logged The coolest nerd you know. "It's a good thing I didn't have to go to the bathroom, because I would have peed my pants. If I had to go, I would have." - Chris Snykus, on the hilarity of Anchorman. Casey YaBB God/goddess     Gender: Posts: 853 Re: Writting « Reply #694 on: Aug 14th, 2004, 5:15pm » Quote Modify Ash -- try pages 43, 44, and 45 for a few snippets.       Just a sidebar, who in the New England area is excited to see me again next week??   IP Logged The coolest nerd you know. "It's a good thing I didn't have to go to the bathroom, because I would have peed my pants. If I had to go, I would have." - Chris Snykus, on the hilarity of Anchorman. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #695 on: Aug 25th, 2004, 4:03pm » Quote Modify Lament   Sitting on the bus, mourning for all that was lost, it was easy for him to blend in.  Sometimes nobody even saw him.  He was elusive and mysterious like that. At the end of every day, after he'd ridden through the city streets, or walked down the alleys and avenues, helpless to do anything about this world he loved so much, he cried.  He went to whatever his home of the night was, under a porch, up on a roof, or in the aisle of a 24-hour grocery store, and cried himself into a state that couldn't be called sleep-- sleep is only for the living-- but couldn't be classified as awake either.  It wasn't until 12 years after that his pale ghostly form that was still frail even in death found some redeeming value in being what he was. He was riding the city bus, number 10, the same one he'd been riding all day.  It started off as a 55, early in the morning, but then switched between being a 10 and a 12.  For now, it was a 10, coasting down Western Ave.   Seeing all that was around him, the fragility of human life, was a tragedy.  He only knew that they were all doomed, as they pretended this life lasts forever.  He had just watched a father file the paperwork to divorce his daughter's mother, which led him to his slump on the bus.  Another one bites the dust.  He was almost singing it aloud, thinking the words to himself.  He looked around the bus at the few inhabitants, all doomed, all lives ebbing away from them as each day wore on, all of them lacking any enthusiasm for this precious day...  his eye stopped on one.  She was the only rider of Bus 10 that day who had a smile on her face.  She wasn't IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #696 on: Aug 25th, 2004, 4:19pm » Quote Modify sitting with, or talking to, anyone, just listening to her headphones and enjoying whatever it was she heard.  He smiled with her as the songs recalled distant and recent memories.  She was tapping her hand against the side of the bus to the beat.. another one bites the dust... he laughed.  Queen.  Another One Bites the Dust.  She was listening to it, that's how it got into his head.  She glanced up at the front of the bus as her eyes wandered and he knew that she could see him, wasn't seeing right through him like so many.  She wanted to see him, so he was there.  Her gaze went back out to the window, but he felt her eyes back on him several times.  She started to hum when Killer Queen came on, and he sang the words along in his head.  Of course, he knew them by heart.  She mouthed the words to We Will Rock You, and he tried not to sing.  She was getting off the bus and humming Somebody To Love.  He followed her off and she began to sing it in the quiet street.  He began singing along, falling into step with this fan whose world was, for the moment, a part of the Queen universe.  She heard him, but didn't realize it.  It was only at the mellisma toward the end of the song-- "somebody to...... love....."  that she turned. She had turned off her CD player at that moment to put down the headphones and make a phone call, but the music had continued.  The voice of an angel was singing from behind her. She turned. "Queen fan?" he asked. "Yes."  She wasn't frightened, or even wary of a perfect stranger addressing her downtown.  "And so are you, apparently." "Why do you like them?" he asked, genuinely curious.  It was the type of thing he would have asked a friend or acquaintance when he was alive, years ago. She made the face that he had seen so many times-- the girly swoon face.  "Freddie," she said.  "He has the most beautiful voice the world has ever heard.  His voice is more breathtaking than any pyramids or mountains that i've ever seen.. and i'm a world traveler."  She laughed and brushed a strand of hair from her face.  Her tone grew serious and sorrowful.  "Is it possible to miss someone so much that you've never even met?" "But you feel like you know him," he responded. "Yeah.."  She stared on down the road, daydreaming... When she looked back, he was grinning.  There was something vaguely familiar about that jawline, that overbite, that she had seen once on a DVD from Wembley stadium.  She blinked, but then he was gone.  Looking around, she thought it was too incredible to be real, not believing in ghosts or anything paranormal.  But then, as her CD player started itself up again, she knew something was out of the ordinary.  As "Save Me" started to play on the headphones around her neck, she was certain there was a whisper of a voice behind her, singing in her ear.  "Save me," whispered the marvel of a voice belonging to a man once called Farrokh Bulsara. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #697 on: Aug 26th, 2004, 4:57am » Quote Modify ash, that was wonderful... i love how you write   i have a poem dedicated to the late Pip, but its on my computer upstairs, and im on the downstairs... it will get posted soon, as will the next 6 parts of my ongoing saga IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles NOXsucks30 YaBB God/goddess www.retroimg.co m   wicked awsome art     Gender: Posts: 4309 Re: Writting « Reply #698 on: Aug 26th, 2004, 9:41am » Quote Modify Poem for Pip 8/25/04   Moving, seeing, smelling, living That was you just a few days ago Living life to the most you could The most you could in a cage in my room   You filled the empty days with smiles and joy You gave me company when I was lonely You made me happy when I couldn’t find it You gave me what I wanted in a pet   You listened when I needed someone to talked to You happily watched me play computer games You listened to music with me when there was no one else You were my fail safe when I needed you   This is a poem   Dedicated to my first snake Pip That was the only pet I ever really wanted Though he wasn’t with me very long,   I loved him the entire time he was here IP Logged And what you've got means such a lot to me Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you. ~The Beatles Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #699 on: Sep 21st, 2004, 5:50am » Quote Modify this is the second installment of my "lament" story that i wrote before...   Since he'd first seen her, she intrigued him, and not just beacsue of her musical preference.  He saw a vacancy, an apathy in her eyes toward anything, as though she had been dulled down by so much pain.  Nothing mattered.  He felt a great sympathy for her and wanted to know more.  If he found out more, then he could figure out how to help her. And so, doing only what ghosts and highly trained professionals can, he followed her  undetected.  He couldn't be completely invisible-- even death has its limits-- but if someone didn't want to see him, they wouldn't.  He could take on the shape of anyone he had seen.  He had been on the earth long enough, come into contact with enough arena crowds to have seen great quantities of people.  He could pick from the banks of his memory images of people he had seen, or else put together pieces of features in a conglomerate of many.  Sometimes he was a man, sometimes a woman; sometimes he was a child, sometimes he was aging; he was every race and build at some point in time, but very rarely did he look like who he had been when he was alive.  If he passed a mirror, that was who he saw, but he knew that everyone else saw whoever he chose to look like. What he found out about her saddened him.  Having been rejected too many times in years past, the man she was in love with now didn't treat her as well as she deserved to be.  What was left of her once-fiery faith was waning, partly due to her current boyfriend's vastly different values.  She wanted to be a musician, but like many, had met with a grand share of discouragement that led her to give up on her dream as her guitars collected dust in her closet.  Rejection after rejection had built up for years, but on the surface she pretended everything was all right.  Secretly, under the watch of only God and her new guardian angel, she silently cried under the blanket of darkness. He longed to reach out to her, but didn't know how to do so as a perfect stranger.  When he'd been alive, having an idolic status made it easy to talk to people.  In fact, it was usually people approaching him and not the other way around.  People already felt like they knew him when he'd been a cultural con.  It was completely different if a stranger was suddenly interested in your life. First, he tried coming to her as a different celebrity.  Obviously, a dead celebrity wouldn't inspire anything but fear or disbelief.  He went to her store in cognito as his former guitarist, Brian, but she didn't recognize him.  He went again on another day as a comfortable, un-made-up version of a popular actor, but she wasn't impressed.  With no other way to reach out to her, klnowing nothing more familiar, he decided to seek her out as himself-- in her dreams. He knew from the way she spoke  of him that she felt a connection to him, even though he was dead long before she even knew who he was.  It wouldn't be that difficult then, to manifest a presence in her dreams. It was a particularly rough night.  Silently she wept as she spoke to God.  Her loneliness was opening her up for all kinds of pain.  He started whispering in her ear just before REM set in, and then slipped into her subconscious. She woke up in a great mood.  She didn't know why, but when she'd finally approached him in her dream, after anticipating the meeting for what seemed like hours, she broke down and started crying.  He'd given her a long, sincere hug.  A conversation had occurred, but she didn't remember any of it.  All she knew was that, as she met him, she felt strangely as though everything was going to be all right.  Mission accomplished. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. MonkeySleepy YaBB God/goddess Fighterdoken!     Gender: Posts: 756 Re: Writting « Reply #700 on: Dec 2nd, 2004, 8:11am » Quote Modify Well folks after many late nights working on ginormous projects for school (just got back my 14 page Luther paper.. a 99 by the way) and sleep deprivation borderlining on a waking delusion, I'm back to game and gaming is good indeed. I picked up Doom3 yesterday and started playing towards the evening.   11/30/04 I stared the game with great anticipation. Like the game suggested, I turned off my lights and turned up the sound. I went through the same levels that were included in the demo nearly flawlessly, completely spanking my enemies because I knew where they all were, when they would move. Even so, I could feel the anticipation growing as I knew that eventually I would come upon waters uncharted then the fear began to grow. As I grew closer and closer to the end of what I knew, my gaming grew more frantic, my shots less certain. I could hear the voices in the dark, feel their fetid breath on my neck as I'd whip around to find them. I could feel their clammy arms enfold me to drag me back into the darkness. My only chace was to shoot hard and shoot fast. The Imps kept coming. I was running out of ammo. I shot once twice, down to my last clip and they wouldn't stop. I had nothing, clickclick sounds of my Doom OhGodImgonnadie killit killitwiththetorch KILLIT!!! *SMASHSMASH* LIGHTDARK LIGHTDARK.. I catch my breath in secluded corner of an office as I witness the carnage around me. The bodies of the foul demons burn away leaving only the stench of brimstone, the sound of my blood dripping on the floor the only thing I hear. 10 health left. I come across a health kit and wrap bandages around my arms and torso. In flash, they fuse into my skin and the tellatale needle jabs under my skin tell me I'm healing. A little better now. I gotta find more ammo. I creep down the hallway and for once I'm not stalked, not suprised to find something that goes bump in the night. I make it to an office with the glass kicked out. From the bloody trail leading to the door, I aproached cautiously, I know I can't win another firefight. I have plenty of fight, my fire's just gone out. Crouching down I open the door. The emptiness that greated me was welcome indeed. I searched the computer desk and though the console was out, I found a PDA. I uploaded the data and scanned for anything I could use. Great! A security code for the locker I saw in the back corner of the room. I type in the code and open the locker. I grab the ammo and jam it into my SMG.4 fully automatic strapping the rest to my bandolier and back. I reload my shotgun while I'm at it, slinging it over my should within easy reach. Hrmmm Grendades.. I could use these. I find another medpack and I wrap the bandages around my leg and shoulder. The needle jabs return and I feel like I'm in peak condition. I take out my hex tool and pop out a few damaged armour shards and pop a few new ones on. I grab a stim and head out the door... and nearly trip into a lurking imp, he lunges up riping his claws across my face. as he grapples with me, I let off a burst shot....   IP Logged Last man standing. MonkeySleepy YaBB God/goddess Fighterdoken!     Gender: Posts: 756 Re: Writting « Reply #701 on: Dec 2nd, 2004, 8:12am » Quote Modify 12/1/04 right into that mothas face. I bust out my shotgun and blast him close range. His hellish scream echoes through the empty halls as I take a deep breath. I sure as hell am not out of this yet. As I clear the blood from my eyes, and jam a stim in my arm, I can hear my heart beating, the blood pounding through my veins, drowning out the hum of the machinery I pass. As I approach a lobby, an Imp launches a ball of fire at me from a balcony. As I lunge to the ground, I feel its flames sear the back of my head and smell the stench of burning hair. I jump up gunning as I aim for the foul creatures many eyed head. The first few shots tears through its head, shredding its eyes and face but it still keeps coming. I aim for its chest as it leaps down on me and the shot sends him back away from me as I roll away. As the demon burns away, I make my way to a large security office with a huge glass wall. I scan the consoles and try and log onto the system. I still don't know what the hell's going on and the radio's been dead for an hour. I'm able to access the security Database and I secure the area, restoring lights and restoring access to the elevator to this sector. Without preamble, the lights flicker and fail. Strange red lights with runes begin glowing on the wall outside the office and the entire base seems to shudder. A strange diabolical language makes a pronouncement, harsh and gutteral. An evil laugh follows and the air around the runes seems to waver. An unholy roar shatters the glass and a giant thing emerges from the ripple in the air. Its front was built like a hairless bull, except that its gaping maw was full of row upon row of razor-sharp teeth and its feet terminated in long, wicked claws. The back of the creature whirred and hissed as it's mechanical legs lunged at me. It bore me back to the wall, its jaws locked around my waist. It's teeth screeched acrossed my armor as they scrambled to find purchase and crush my chest. I smash it in the face with butt of my shotgun and it drops me and howls in rage. It rears on its back legs and lunges at me again with claws poised for my face. I roll aside and squeeze off a shot to its hind legs. One of the servos overloads and its left leg snaps free with sparks flying,  the twisted metal leaking coolant. I run at it and shoulder it in its barrel chest, knocking it over. d**n  that things heavy. I think I broke a rib. I shoot a burst to it's chest and head, perforating it as its leg flails helplessly against the empty air. I step on it's neck and set off two shots straight to its head. In an near inaudible gurgle it coughs up blood and shudders for a minute till it lies still. It's hind leg is still moving slowly as it too burns away to nothing. 3 shells left... I need to reload but before I can I hear... IP Logged Last man standing. Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #702 on: Jan 25th, 2005, 10:24am » Quote Modify i rediscovered my soulmate E. A. Robinson this week.  This is one of his that I never understood before but am now fond of:   Reunion   By some derision of wild circumstance Not then our pleasure somehow to perceive, Last night we fell together to achieve A light eclipse of years.  But the pale chance Of youth resumed was lost.  Time gave a glance At each of us, and there was no reprieve; And when there was at last a way to leave, Farewell was a foreseen extravagance.   Tonight the west has yet a failing red, While silence whispers of all things not here; And round there where the fire was that is dead, Dusk-hidden tenants that are chairs appear. The same old stars will soon be overhead, But not so friendly and not quite so near. IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Mimi YaBB God/goddess im like a coozy cup, cool and fuzzy....     Gender: Posts: 1711 Re: Writting « Reply #703 on: Jan 29th, 2005, 11:13pm » Quote Modify this came really late at night after the phone rang       ive always had this feeling inside,   ever since i met you way back when, inspiring me while i am awake and asleep when feeling cold and all alone, you are there     you are patient with me,   helping me understand myself and the world, helping me smile when i am down, helping me find positive when i am negitive,   i have been falling in love with heros, with brothers, with friends. You brighten my days with your music, your travels, your smiles, your hugs   when family is not able to help, there you are, on the otherside of an email, the otherside of the phone teaching me new things about life     when grandma died and when grandpa got weird you comforted me,you listened     back to back on the road you played my request   back to back on the road I made you a double decker p,B &J,crying to my request, being extremely happy that i found my friends, my brothers, my heros, so thankful for times past, present, and future back to back on the road, getting sick   helping me gain confedence by encouraging me   helping me gain confedence by showing me again where that guitar/drum head goes,   helping me gain confedence by emailing me that secret reciepe helping me gain confedence by showing me how to draw trees helping me gain confedence by showing me a cool way to take an opponent down   being happy for me when going home with a boy by telling me that i shouldnt be so hard on myself for helping me learn how to drive my car better for holding the rock show until i arrived for being real when need be for making me go out and play basketball, baseball, and tennis for showing me your cool math/basketball game (thats way confusing, lol)   For being my heros, brothers, and friends   « Last Edit: Jan 29th, 2005, 11:44pm by Mimi » IP Logged *A warrior who wears two swords at his side, but does not put the spirit of combat into his heart, is nothing but a peasent or merchent wearing the skin of a warrior* Ashley YaBB God/goddess www.brianmay.co m     Gender: Posts: 3311 Re: Writting « Reply #704 on: Jan 30th, 2005, 5:50pm » Quote Modify mimi= the best! IP Logged Love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night and love dares us to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Pages: 1 ... 45 46 47 48  Reply Notify of replies Send Topic Print Forum Jump: ----------------------------- General -----------------------------  - New Forum Warning! ----------------------------- Talk -----------------------------=> Talk Amongst Yourselves   - Questions for the Band   - Street Team Business « Previous topic | Next topic »

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