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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 76 | |
| | She did it.Page 4 of 43 (3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43) | This is the murderous moment
you've crawled out of my heart
and into my brain. There's nothing
sweet remaining of our association.
Yeah this extraction will certainly hurt
me more than it's going to hurt you. But
further examination of the thing you are to
me now only spreads the infection. This is the
violence you have alluded to. The bully in me has
reared her ugly head. I accept the full consequnces
of my questioning you as my sword tears and twists
to our death so I can live. I never wanted it to be
this way. The pieces we would have fit together
be ever vanquished to the lost sea of cause.
Your face never see, you mortal, you who
will oneday die, with never an inkling of
me. The proximity familiar to shared
time be sheared from the aura of
my mind's reference. The aura
of my mind's reference is
gasping, now my mind
is free to cry, and
now...you are
no more. | |
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| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 12:37:40 AM | OK. You made your point.  | |
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| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 5:22:00 AM | Ok, I'm stuck...
Poets out there, come to my rescue on this one. Your additions requested. You can rewrite the whole thing or pick up more or less where I've left it. Thanks in advance for your participation...
Not me! I wouldn’t dare! It’s uniquely YOUR poem from your distinctive point of view and in your strong, true voice. I WOULD suggest you just end it here:
There's got to be a better way
to pursue a life's fulfillment
without that final “than to ...”
Up in the air is sometimes as truthful and powerful a declaration as we can make of where we are...
It's a fine, strong poem like so many of your recent ones. I'd like whatever YOU'RE having! | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 79 | |
| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 5:46:37 AM | It is rather pointy, eh 
 | |
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| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 5:53:34 AM | | the point goes pretty nicely with the sword of truth theme.... | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 81 | |
| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 6:08:09 AM | Hey thanks, all y'all for looking in this morning.
I actually had nightmares last night after writing that one.
It's good to see friendly human faces this morning after the demons
I wrestled last night. | |
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| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 6:57:05 AM |
you who
will one day die, with never an inkling of
me.
These are surely among the saddest lines I’ve ever read. | |
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| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 4:48:03 PM | im going to need therapy to remove my new found dread of the poetry elf
heres one i was asked to write by someone whose partner was dying
sometimes tears mean i love you
why do i cry when i love you?
im so happy yet sad all the time?
these feelings we'll share for ever
our love will last beyond time
my love for you is still growing
larger and stronger each day
the moments we share with each other
are marked by each hair of grey
i love your warmth and compassion
you fill my heart with such bliss
and i thank god in his heaven
that in his love he gave us this
the people that pass by us
will never see such a love
our love is proof of a heaven
as this must have come from above | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 84 | |
| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 5:29:02 PM | Dear Poet (Elf),
I am so grateful to have your donations on my doorstep. Thanks for another one.I'm sorry to hear about your friend and her partner. Both of them will treasure that poem. Sad as their situation is, it is a blessing for them to expereince love stronger than death. | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 85 | |
| She did it.
Posted: 1/25/2007 8:51:37 PM | | If anyone should stop by tonight, I'd like to invite you to join me and 1Magar in the limerick thread. We're having a great time, taking the first line of any poem and making a limerick of it. Magar would be thrilled to have y'all and so would I. | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/25/2007 9:05:44 PM | Hi all
great to see there is a poem forum, so here are some I have worked on, this is my latest work. Let me know what you think
Rime of the Assassin
I was hired for death…I considered my job fun
I was quick to deliver…I got the job done
But my job serious, I never thought funny
Because I fed my family, on the wealth of blood money
I was armed with guns when facing the hordes,
But I believed in honor, I often fought with swords
When I am hired, I often told, that the life I take, is worth that of gold
I take my fee, and take my opponents by force, I never think nor have remorse
I came from Lebanon, my wife from Japan,
We were a nomadic people, we live where we can
she watched our home, while I was away,
When I came home, we'd eat and play
She never questioned me, she did what she was told
Our life knew no rest, and routines never got old
I came home one night, and I was by my wife,
that she said she was expecting, and it would change my life.
During the winter we moved and lived in Tyre,
I took local jobs, as a sword for hire.
9 months had passed and the day come, my daughter was born, but I on the run.
I had killed a noble, but was seen by a peer, I ran like the wind, and for once felt fear.
I went to my wife, and after telling her she wept,
we packed our things, and with all haste we left
We again traveled the lands, I kept I my family in my eyes
Because I had heard, the noble sent spies
My family was the target, though I was to blame,
The Nobility would regain honor, by giving me shame
But years had past and they couldn't find me,
I have left the land, living in a foreign country
Then one day, I was given the job,
to kill prophet that was leading a mob
but the journey was long, and my wife was weak,
she had given birth again, and my mission would take week
I needed the money, to move again, I heard the nobility was on our trail again.
We packed our things, and prepared our flight,
I promised my family, I'll return in a fortnight
I took my mission and went to the town,
I saw no prophet, nor mob to be found
He was hard to track, I could only move at night
I then infiltrated his home and put up a fight
I overcame his men, and cut off the prophet's head
I then proceed home, to find my wife in bed
I told her I was done, but it was to my horror
That the nobility had succeeded and restored their honor
My wife was dead, her body was ravaged
The men had no honor, this punishment was savage
I found a note, that said my daughters fought with bravery
So he spared them their lives, and sold them into slavery
I became enraged, but I knew then,
That this was punishment, for my lifelong sin
The people I killed, the nations I toured
The only family was: my gun and my sword
I then move on, and never was tired
I traveled the lands, as a sword for hire
But as I killed, I was no longer thrilled
I could no longer feel, nor be fulfilled
I killed prophets, I killed thieves
I killed knights, I killed kings
I killed for lords, I killed for commoners
I defended many lands from invading foreigners
But in the end, my allies could see,
that the only person who died, was myself, just me
I had dedicated my life to my bloody passion
And for it my family died in the name of my passion
I now feel, that my punishment is just
I am a killer, it is the blood I lust
I walk the land, looking for death
I will kill until I give my last breath
I am a constant, though silent in the grave
This world had not freed me from my evil way
my spirit travels and finds no peace
I continue to move, not stopping the least
I am alone, and though I try
I cannot live, I cannot die
I know somewhere; my family awaits their man
Until then I walk, the sword in my hand. | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 87 | |
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/25/2007 10:13:06 PM | My goodness, Leb:
I am honored that you would post a poem so starkly moving here in my humble thread and ask for a review. That's not a bad idea though, come to think of it.
Yes, it's a great poem. I think the sword of honor metaphor might be a little out of place. The assassin did honor his family, or tried to. hmm. I like the story of your poem a lot. It teaches much about some shocking lessons we all learn about ourselves and life in general as we walk along our chosen paths.
Well, that's all I can think of right now. Keep writing and posting. Pof is great for that. Thanks again for stopping by here. I'll try to keep an eye on your stuff. There are so many wonderful poets here. It's great, just whatever poetry mood you're in, it's all here. You bring a fresh face. | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/25/2007 10:24:27 PM | Thanks so much for your feed back, well the assasin was shamed, he had lost his family and further more wasnt there to defend them, albeit his daughters did have a knowlege of self defense. I was pointing out the assassin was multi skilled and a good fighter, hence he was often used in high profile killings.
Thanks again for your feedback, read the posting below for another poem, this was actally my first one. | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/25/2007 10:28:08 PM | The Glory I Find
When war broke out, I had to find the glory that grows and turns in my mind. I raised an army strong and define that I used to seek the glory in mind.
In the beginning, I thought all was done. Our enemies were weak and on the run. My men did not fear they stood with stone pride. My officers kept shouting, "glory on the rise!"
As we advanced, preceded less care; I noticed more shouting in the air. But I did not care; I still walked with pride. I tried to forget the screams and cries.
As I progressed, careless each time, it harder to seek the glory in mind. I hear from my staff "morale dropping fast. Your men are dying and you need stop trying to seek the glory your recklessly finding."
Then the time came fast and shattered me like glass, The time seek glory has come and pass. My army is small fragile to the last, my numerous legions are a thought of the past.
For years I wondered, if really did blunder, for the ultimate goal was I glory find. Then I surrendered and I feel really lame. My pride is broken and I am shamed.
As I walked by, I can still sense a pride that my men felt, but now it has died. As I walked by, my men start to cry and some shouting "we should not of tried!"
When I went home, I saw my wife feeling sadden, Though her feeling hidden, she knew what had happened. For I did not bring home the glory I find. I brought home shame, shame that I could not hide.
In my veteran years I did find, that war is cruelty and cannot be refined. As I grew old, more wars did start. Men went to war with pride and came home with sad hearts.
I still visit the battlefields, which held my pride, and the glory I seek and could not find. I drop knees and wept on the ground. The glory is gone, my spirit down.
I walk with two young officers with pride within their eyes. They too will seek the glory they find. They will hope for gain and come back with feeling shame, because that they fought in vain, and will feel no pride, but shame. | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 90 | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 91 | |
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 11:20:11 AM | Cool winter prolonging autumn of malcontent
Drags along the process of decay; my hatred fossilizes
in the layer of ambivalent rot still preserved from summer.
ppg on a sunny and temperate winterday. | |
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Om
| | Joined: 12/15/2006
Msg: 92 | |
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 12:36:03 PM | Just popped in to say, ppg, bin reading your fine words around the pond..Great stuff!
I like the shape poetry you formed up^ there, too. Nice, hmmm, elevating write...;) | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 93 | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 5:18:51 PM | Friends with and Without Faces:
We sit and type, and we stare at our screens
We all have to wonder, what this possibly means.
With our mouse we roam, through the rooms in a maze
Looking for something or someone, as we sit in a daze.
We chat with each other, we type all our woes
Small groups we do form, and gang up on our foes.
We wait for somebody, to type out our name
We want recognition, but it is always the same.
We give kisses and hugs, and sometimes we flirt
In IM's we chat deeply, and reveal why we hurt.
We do form friendships - but - why we don't know
But some of these friendships, will flourish and grow.
Why is it on screen, we can be so bold
Telling our secrets, that have never been told.
Why is it we share, the thoughts in our mind
With those we can't see, as though we were blind.
The answer is simple, it is clear as a bell
We all have our problems, and need someone to tell.
We can't tell real people, but tell someone we must
So we turn to the 'puter, and to those we can trust.
Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains
They are Friends with and Without Faces, and odd little names.
PolarExpress
 to everyone! | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 95 | |
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 5:32:29 PM | Everyone, The PolarExpress is IN THE HOUSE! Let the celebration begin!!!Where are the band emoticons?
Well, the band hasn't arrived PE, we'll all just have to sing even louder.
Ready guys!
      
 
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 7:14:29 PM | | Penpalgirl, i love your stuff. And you have attracted some just brilliant writes too! What a precious little thread you have created. Promise to be back when i find the words to say that properly! | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 97 | |
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 7:24:35 PM | Hello young pockets.
I promise.
Keep goin with your life.
It's all gonna be all right.
Gee I just found myself wanting to write you a limerick. But I really don't. Great to see ya. Hope you get computer set up. | |
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pensky
| | Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 99 | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 1/26/2007 11:29:35 PM | Hey Penpalgirl..I just wanted to say thanks,and drop this little write off for you in response to the one you wrote for me in my thread (I loved it!)I really think you are one amazing chica
Penning her words by night
Like an awe inspiring beacon of light
She moves many like a river
and teaches us how to flow
So freely like the movement
Of wind rustling the trees
An awakening of vision
Its such a sight to see
And when I read her poetry
It awakens the soul of me
That longs to sing a bit louder
and as brilliantly free as she
Ok,now I have some reading to do in here:)Have a spiffy night,Kat | |
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