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Topic: Writting (Read 6454 times) |
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sillyfairy
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Re: Writting
« Reply #75 on: Nov 22nd, 2002, 1:05am » |
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A little poem for y'all I just wanna cry He left me without a goodbye Like our time was nothing I thought I had found something I was wrong I came on too strong I gave too much And he didnt give enough I let him slip away but I played it brave I stayed and felt the pain And relived the memories in my brain. Why did he leave? Wasn't I enough? Don't I deserve to be loved? I just wanna cry And subdue all the feelings I have inside.
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« Last Edit: Nov 22nd, 2002, 1:08am by sillyfairy » |
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Ashley
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Re: Writting
« Reply #76 on: Nov 22nd, 2002, 12:27pm » |
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awesome!! here's one of my own... To a Dying Hard Drive You brought me such joy More than once in a while But now all my memories are being destroyed And now i have lost all my memorable files. We had such good times Before that fateful day And now i've lost my stories and rhymes And compositions are deteriorating away. Oh, what can i do Without you always here I was connected to the world when i had you Now AIM, my link, has disappeared No other new drive Can replace what we had You used to make me feel so alive But with your breakdown i'm now so very sad So goodbye, my friend Take with you my files Our true friendship i know will never end And upon thinking of you i will always smile.
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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.
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dreamdaughter
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Re: Writting
« Reply #77 on: Nov 22nd, 2002, 12:58pm » |
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Angelica, Message reached Us swiftly, like A fire consuming The miles of Parched creation and Reaching heavenward For an answer. Stripped of all senses, We realize everything, but understand nothing. Salted eyes scan the horizon: "What do we hope for?" Time rides on Angel's wings; we follow behind, Plodding heavily, shoulders bent, through grief's desert-- This world was too barren for your luminous spirit to thrive Your soul sought sanctity, yet found no temporal respite. (aphienai to pnevma) The flame shuddered At passing breath, Was snuffed out, And left only the Memory of its light. And you, Angelica? Have you taken it With you? What Are we left with? A cherubimic hymn? A wooden image, Haloed in gold? A jeweled chalice, A holy mystery? Yes, and this hope: Our eternal reunion. Line 16 was originally written in Greek, but I don't have a Greek font on this computer.
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If all the world were paper, And all the seas were ink, If all the trees were bread and cheese, What would we have to drink?
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wisensmart336
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Re: Writting
« Reply #78 on: Nov 22nd, 2002, 4:36pm » |
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wow those last 3 were really really good
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if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt.
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NOXsucks30
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Re: Writting
« Reply #79 on: Nov 22nd, 2002, 5:28pm » |
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i definitly have to agree with mr. wiggl... i mean scott those poems were awsome, the first two like completly described how i felt about 3mths ago...very depressing time..... but yeah anyway... those were great, im not that great at writing even though i still try....
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And what you've got means such a lot to me
Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you.
~The Beatles
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Ashley
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Re: Writting
« Reply #80 on: Nov 23rd, 2002, 12:17pm » |
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Keep em coming guys, one of these days i'm gonna print out this whole thread. yay!
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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.
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Ashley
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Re: Writting
« Reply #81 on: Nov 23rd, 2002, 12:25pm » |
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This one is by my hero E A Robinson, who i'm sure would be my soulmate if we lived at the same time. I've read this one so many times it's committed to memory for good... my favorite poem in the world: The Unforgiven When he, who is the unforgiven, Beheld her first, he found her fair. No promise ever dreamt in Heaven Could then have lured him anywhere That would have been away from there; And all his wits had lightly striven, Foiled with her voice, and eyes, and hair. There's nothing in the saints and sages To meet the shafts her glances had, Or such as hers have had for ages To blind a man till he be glad, Or humble him till he be mad; The story would have many pages And would be neither good nor bad. And having followed, you would find him Where properly the play begins But look for no red light behind him, No fumes of many-colored sins Fanned high by screaming violins-- God knows what good it was to blind him, And whether man or woman wins. And by the same eternal token, Who knows just how it all will end? This drama of hard words unspoken, This fireside farce, without a friend Or enemy to comprehend What augurs when two lives are broken And fear finds nothing left to mend. He stares in vain for what awaits him And sees in Love a coin to toss He smiles, and her cold hush berates him Beneath his hard half of the cross. They wonder why it ever was; And she, the Unforgiving, hates him More for her lack than for her loss. He feeds with pride his indecision And shrinks from what will not occur Bequeathing with infirm derision His ashes to the days that were Before she made him prisoner; And labors to retrieve the vision That he must once have had of her. He waits, and there awaits an ending, But he knows neither what nor when And no magicians are attending To make him see as he saw then And he will never find again The face that once had been the rending Of all his purpose among men. He blames her not, nor does he chide her And she has nothing new to say If he were Bluebeard, he could hide her But that's not written in the play. And there will be no change today ALthough, to the serene outsider, There still would seem to be a way.
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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.
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NOXsucks30
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Re: Writting
« Reply #82 on: Nov 23rd, 2002, 7:06pm » |
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i liked that
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And what you've got means such a lot to me
Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you.
~The Beatles
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sillyfairy
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Re: Writting
« Reply #83 on: Nov 24th, 2002, 12:58am » |
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wow ash that was really good! I think it could be a good song.
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dreamdaughter
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Re: Writting
« Reply #84 on: Nov 24th, 2002, 10:27am » |
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I am such a dork. I was so distracted when I posted that poem that I forgot what I had originally wanted to say about it: Hey Scott-- This is that poem I was telling you about...the one I wrote after I found out that my friend Angelica was killed in a car accident. I don't normally like people to see my poetry, but since we were talking about it I decided to go ahead and put it up here. Hmm...perhaps I should also tell you what the Greek means, as the second half of the poem doesn't make much sense without it. OK, so roughly translated it means a passing of breath or spirit. The Greeks believed that a person's breath and spirit are intermingled - inseperable, in a sense - so their word pnevma means both breath and spirit. So the imagery there is an analogy between a breath blowing out a candle and the passing of Angelica's spirit taking away her earthly light/life. So basically I wasn't trying to throw some Greek in there just to be pretentious; it was just the only way that I could really make that analogy. And now that I've typed all that out, I'm realizing that I probably should've just sent you a private message. Whatever. I'm too lazy to retype everything. Sorry, everyone, for wasting your time! P.S. Ash, I love E. A. Robinson! Good call!
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« Last Edit: Nov 24th, 2002, 10:38am by dreamdaughter
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If all the world were paper, And all the seas were ink, If all the trees were bread and cheese, What would we have to drink?
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wisensmart336
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Re: Writting
« Reply #85 on: Nov 24th, 2002, 2:23pm » |
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Thank you.
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if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt.
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Ashley
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Re: Writting
« Reply #86 on: Nov 24th, 2002, 5:23pm » |
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ahhh Robinson is the best, he's my favorite poet ever, it's so cool that someone else likes him on here! here's another one of his that i memorized... The Dark Hills Dark hills at evening in the west Where sunset hovers like a sound Of golden horns that sang to rest Old bones of warriors underground Far now from all the banner'd ways Where flash the legions of the sun You fade--as if the last of days Were fading, and all wars were done. my favorite one by him is like 14 pages long so i'll spare you all... go visit my tribute site of him at http://www.geocities.com/ashleythrockstar2002/robinson.html
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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.
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wisensmart336
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Re: Writting
« Reply #87 on: Nov 24th, 2002, 5:38pm » |
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Great Oak Tree I sit under the great oak tree The branches stretch to cover me I look above at the great green leaves The lights fights through the gaps The branches stretch in every direction The curves of each may seem like perfection To others though some seem dangerously short While the longer thicker ones show more support To the top, it will take some time Choose each branch and begin to climb Foregin things hang in the tree A birds nest, a foot ball and friseby When the top you reach all the leaves have gone The winter cold won't be long The ground will be covered with powdered snow Away from the great oak we must go Its branches are stripped and bare We can no longer stay here. Under the beautiful great oak tree Under the beautiful great oak tree.
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if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt.
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NOXsucks30
YaBB God/goddess
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Re: Writting
« Reply #88 on: Nov 28th, 2002, 8:38pm » |
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i havnt written very much latley at all.... dunno why... maybe because im not happy, and im not sad, im kinda just.. blah...i dont know... its weird...... maybe i will get some inspiration soon oh and i saw that its definitly written... so im guessing that writting is spelled write too.......lol ....yeah im a freak lol
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And what you've got means such a lot to me
Someone to love, Somebody new. Someone to love, Someone like you.
~The Beatles
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wisensmart336
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Re: Writting
« Reply #89 on: Nov 29th, 2002, 12:37pm » |
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powder from the night, all is absent in the light The cold over comes I surrender to it. sink into it, embrace it deep and lost into the nothingness I feel empty and lost. To feel right, but at what cost to lose it all don't want to fall like the powder from the sky
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if the sun refused to shine I'd still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me. one eyed jacks won I'd jax I'm makin' 1 eyed jaks. pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt.
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