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Another Artistic Thread - POEMS

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  • Thats a good poem if not a little conceited. Just kidding, I liked it a lot.


    Always standing
    Proud and tall
    Are the mountains
    That never fall
    They point their mighty peaks
    so lofty towards the sky
    Above the eagles beaks
    Their pinnacles are so high
    People climb their heights
    To say they overcame
    Conquering the mountains
    They win their glory and fame
    These giant, ancient crags
    That always guard our lands
    They are ever-vigilant
    Through all of times sands
    Bound by chain of dwarven magic, A tale of trickery, long and tragic,
    Sword in jaw, awaiting the day, Ragnarok, when all gods shall pay

    Jesus-half brother.


    • i was agahst that this had dropped off the first page, so this is bringing it back up.

      and a poem by Gordon R. Dickson, cause i don't have anything new, and am out of old (just to show you all how little i've written

      A Outrance

      Within the ruined chapel, the full knight
      Woke from the coffin of his last-night's bed;
      And clashing mailed feet on the broken stones
      strode to the shattered lintel and looked out.

      A fog lay holding all the empty land
      A cloak of cloudy and uncertainness,
      That hid the earth; in that enfoliate mist
      Moved voices wanderd from a dream of death.

      A warhorse, cropping by the chapel wall,
      Raised maul-head, dripping thisles on the stones;
      And struck his hooves; and jingeld all his gear.
      "Peace . . . "said the Knight. "Be still. Today we rest."

      "The mist is hiding all the battlefield.
      "The winp whips on the wave-packs of the sea.
      "Our foe is bound by this no less than we.
      "Rest," said the Knight. "We do not fight today."

      The warhorse stamped again. And struck his hooves.
      Ringing on cobbeled dampness of the stones.
      Crying-- "Ride! Ride! Ride!" And the Knight mounted him,
      Slowly. And rode him slowly out to war.
      this, incidentally, occurs in his The Final Encyclopedia. Quite possibly my favorite book of his i've read so far, though his whole childe cycle is good.
      PhotoFx -[=]-"Visual forms are not inherent in themselves, but are granted by the act of seeing..." -Trevor Goodchild


      • Thanks Alan for moving this page back to the lime light again ..

        first and formost, I will like to welcome CutsyKitty ... ... your poem is insightful .. ... but somehow the name rose reminded me of the Kate Winslett charather in Titanic, and by the way you wrote it, it gave me a feeling that you were writing about that charather ..

        lee .. don't worry about being gothic ... ... we like what we read for sometime, just because the preference is towards happy thoughts, we do not dilude ourselves and regconize that there are nightwares as well ... so post whatever that comes to mind. Don't worry ok?

        Athene, your words are a window to my soul.
        even now I am facing the same doubt with my other half. It is a constant struggle to not go running and hugging her just to let her know that I love her. That I will not leave her unless it is what she trully wants. If loving her from a distance is better, I will willingly disappear and be a shadow. For the most important thing is that I can see her being happy. Yet everyday I get a feeling that I am still not allowed into that little circle of trust that I crave to be in. I am outside this glass window looking in, realizing that I have much more to do and much more to learn.

        <realities> by prem1er is one of the best poems that I have ever read. I agree totally with the words. Why? because this is the idea that I preach to people everyday. Your life is what you see it to be, reality is but a perception of our mind and heart. I think I once wrote something like this, in this thread, but was not so simple in their words and not so direct in their meaning. Bravo Prem1er. Good work
        written by prem1er
        If Realities exist in the mind of men,
        It's not wrong to pretend that reality differs,
        so you see whats real to you,
        may not be real to me.
        As always Ian, nice work.

        Here is something that I felt after I read Ian's <mountain>

        : Climbing moutains

        Ever so carefull
        we put our steps ahead
        climbing slowly up this hedge
        moving towards our goals in life

        obstacles blocking our every path
        we pray that we will eventually
        reach our destination
        and be free at last

        one more step now
        and finally we are at the end
        the journey has ended
        and our voices scream freedom

        Yet something does not seem right
        we survey around
        and to our shock realize
        we climbed the wrong moutain
        where the view is not what we want
        oh woe is our heart
        what have we done
        wasted seasons
        just to see
        those that was important
        is no where in sight
        what can we do now?
        Do we stay and cry?
        Or do we decend and try again?

        Then finally a decision was made
        slowly packing all that is ours
        with determined heart we set out
        moving back to the beginning
        never gazing back from our trail
        we moved and head for our dreams again
        Sometimes it is just being me that counts
        By: izchan


        • I was reading the whole thread again, and suddenly realize I forgot to tell xara how much I liked her poem <when we were young>

          I will like to get that song in MP3 please?
          Or if you are doing cd's or cassates, just tell me, I will like to own a copy ... ...

          Again, my deepest apology for missing to give my compliment.

          Can you ever forgive me xara?

          : deaf to beauty
          like a blind fool
          I stumble around
          missing the important moments
          deaf to the music in the air

          I don't know how I can
          make up for all my mistakes
          I can only hope that one day
          I will be able to admire again
          your bright glowing soul
          and mesmerizing beauty

          For those that I have missed, I sincerely apologize for the oversight. I will try my best to pay more attention when I am posting next time.
          Sometimes it is just being me that counts
          By: izchan


          • This is a short Bio about the poet that Alan posted ealier.
            Name: DICKSON, Gordon Rupert
            Aged: 77
            Born: Nov 1, 1923 Edmonton, Alberta, CANADA
            Died: January 31, Richfield, MN
            Awarded: Three Hugos: 1965 short story "Soldier, Ask Not," 1981 novella "Lost Dorsai," & 1981 novelette "The Cloak and the Staff." A Nebula in 1966 for the novelette, "Call Him Lord." The 1975 Skylark Award for Imaginative Fiction & the 1977 British Fantasy Award for novel, The Dragon and the George. Dickson was inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame in 2000.
            Gordon is one of my all time favourite writers, his 'dorsai' series (or commonly known as the childe cycle) is one of those that gave me inspiration as well as guide to the perception of life and its meaning.
            His poetry is one of those that touched not just the mind but the heart and souls of men.
            Sometimes it is just being me that counts
            By: izchan


            • Untitled (as of now...)

              No one ever sees the old man,
              Sitting in the corner,
              His figure blurred
              By the dim, yellow light.
              He says not a word
              But watches and remembers;
              That's all he needs and wants.
              And when he does feel compelled to speak -
              Pithy are his words.
              Short but brimming; everlasting.
              Tucked into the pockets of the listeners' mind.
              The listeners who hear and heed;
              The listeners who understand and learn,
              And are not afraid to acknowledge
              The tainted lives and broken world,
              To step inside the dimly-lit room,
              And learn more than just one life allows.


              • sscw46,

                Maybe you can title it <Forgotten Old Man>

                but somehow, I get a feeling that there is something hanging there. Who is the old man?

                The words are clear, it shows the world in which it is being written for. But what is it that the old man says?

                Sorry for being so inquisitive ... ... just wanted to be clear that my recomended title is correct.
                Sometimes it is just being me that counts
                By: izchan


                • Nemesis, I feel for you man.

                  Hope you find your touch again. I will really like to read more of your stuff. <corporeal> is really touching.
                  Sometimes it is just being me that counts
                  By: izchan


                  • I know nemesis ... ... you intorduced me there ... .. though I don't think I post up my own site much. Just kept posting it here instead ..

                    I mean I will like to read your newer stuffs ... ... in the future.

                    Just keep it coming.
                    Sometimes it is just being me that counts
                    By: izchan


                    • Hey Izchan,

                      The old man in the poem could represent anyone (or anything, for that matter). In the poem, the old man could be a grandfather, a priest, a monk, a musician singing his songs, a teacher, or even a God. It could even be a book, story, etc. The main gist of this poem is about listening to someone with experience and learning through them because the shortness of lives doesn't allow a person to go through and learn from every possible situation. The old man is basically giving advice on how to live a good life and how to be a moral, kind person. The only people who can truly do this is someone who can open their eyes and admit the faults and flaws of people (including themselves) and the world.

                      Btw, I'm not saying that sitting down and listening to others all the time is the right way to learn; I'm just trying to get the message across that people can stop once in awhile and to hear what others went through, and in turn, make life easier.

                      I hope that made sense...


                      • two more...

                        Hoping For You

                        When I look into your eyes I see her
                        She has the most amazing affect on you
                        I just wish I could have the same affect
                        So I could make you as happy as she does

                        I love you with all of my heart
                        All I want is for you to be happy
                        Whatever happens I will be here

                        I understand all the reasons we can’t be together
                        Age, morals, mind games, confusion, and broken hearts
                        Why do we love the impossible?
                        Maybe for loves own amusement

                        I guess for now I will just sit by
                        being your friend
                        Hoping some day we will be together


                        From the depths of my heart
                        For: John Loreth

                        Today is the day
                        For hearts to feel love
                        But, today you are going
                        To a place you shouldn’t be
                        Protecting me was your first reaction

                        You shouldn’t be there!
                        It should be me
                        You would not let the blame
                        Be placed on my shoulders
                        Instead you took it on yours

                        For if love was not enough
                        You have done this for me
                        I hope I may be able
                        To show you this love
                        You have shown me



                        • first of, sscw46, congrates for gainning the status of senior member.

                          I understand the poem now, and it makes sense with the way you explained it. Thanks for your patients in educating me.

                          I think we have another poem on this thread that talked about something like this before, I think it was one of nemesis's poem, if I am not wrong it dealt with memories, but if you read the poem, it can also be used to describe knowledge or wisdom.

                          For today's contribution.

                          : Feather dreams
                          As I dream of better days
                          my memory took me back to yesterday
                          looking back into the years
                          in which I have you by my side

                          Your frown that makes me cry
                          and your dreams in which I try
                          sometimes I wonder if it was even my life
                          or was it yours that I mistaken for mine

                          You told me once that you loved me
                          and that once was a long time ago
                          but for that love I gave up myself
                          and be the boy that you wanted me to be

                          I love you too mother
                          and now that you are gone
                          I realized how much more I miss you
                          I will try to be the best that I can
                          and meet those goals that you have set
                          living up to your feather like dreams
                          forever floating and unreachable
                          yet a goal in which I will hold
                          until the end of my life
                          Sometimes my thoughts of mother gives me the best inspiration of all. The love in which will burn in my heart forever.

                          Sometimes it is just being me that counts
                          By: izchan


                          • Athene, Those were beautiful.

                            Nemesis, you are one lucky SOB.

                            I especially love <from the depths of my heart>, it rings true to my very soul.

                            I am happy for you both.

                            Just remember what John says ... 'All you need is love' ... I mean John Lennon ...
                            Sometimes it is just being me that counts
                            By: izchan


                            • Captivating soul
                              Encircles the depths of love through
                              The art of firelight.


                              Fragments of lust wane
                              In my mind, as memories
                              Of her fade away.


                              • Whoa. I didn't even notice that I became a senior member! Cool.

                                No problem, Izchan. I'm very happy to have clarified my poem for you.