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A Poem A Day...

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Archoncy

Archoncy

Posts: 404 Silver Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
A short little Limerick for The WOM :3

There once was a man from Draynor,
Who thought he could be much more.
So he robbed the bank,
And like a tank,
He got a partyhat, galore!

I couldn't get a better rhyme. Unless you can think of one. Oh well. :3

24-May-2012 22:28:22

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
::Fall Together::

She whispered to me like a pearl
And what a jewel she was
What I'd give to hold her once more
Her hair crimped to a cute curl
Hazel eyes so welcoming
Skin secreted a soft glow
Oh, how I wish to feel her heart
Beating to the rhythm of mine
A secret love I cradle though
Deep down inside I know
My love is lost on her

One fine day my wish came true
I lulled her in my arms
Putting her to a final hush
Her skin bruised, full of
Holes where bullets entered
Curls dampened with her death
Eyes that once lustered are
No more than dull chasms
My love was too late today
I could not be your savior
You will never know how I felt
And if I could do it over
I promise I would have the courage
To tell you how much I care.

25-May-2012 01:30:49

Xereva

Xereva

Posts: 7,589 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
I wrote these while I was still over in Manchester on Study Abroad. Don't know if they're much if any good, but here's hoping. I'm open to comments of all kinds, just tell me honestly.

----

- At Last -

The drinks are gone; the shine
shows in our eyes, we settle
into the sheets and bed
and lie back
against the wall.

In the silent half-light there is a moment
when it happens.

You startle
like a crow in the trees, eyes
wary-wide alert, then closed.
What you have waited for
at last, given in one moment,
one breath, movement; something soft-
sweet-gentle that you never once
imagined I could give.

What did you think?
That it was the drink,
or the late hour, some haze
clouding my mind? Or perhaps
some latent hope, some fragment
buried from the first, uncovered
and exposed.

Whatever you thought
—it was done—
and you yielded
at last, at longest last.

----

- I Know -

where you are. As if I were in your head as if I were you
as if in some half-thought-of moment I'd taken on your form

and grasped, for a moment, what it was
to know your flesh, and the touch of your fingers
as they moved over themselves.

what you are doing. As if I were there in that darkness
with all the little lights around, full of sweat

and the noise of gasps. As if I were him
as if I were the room itself as it watched
as if I were the air.

what you feel. As if I could wrap your nerves around mine
and let their sparking currents flow to me instead, as if
you were suddenly me and you could sense—

25-May-2012 03:16:54

Xereva

Xereva

Posts: 7,589 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Cool! :D Glad you liked it. I was influenced mostly by a poet named Joanna Klink, who wrote a short collection called Raptus. It's quite good—I read it first in a Guest Writers class, when I actually got to meet her after reading the work. She's a really interesting woman, for sure.

25-May-2012 15:02:52

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
~Polio~

Lead lungs
Heave
The air
In this prison
Of my skull
That is denuded
And naught else.
Only through cracks
Can my breath leave
My flesh is
Left
Rattling the bars
To this dungeon
Of doctors.
Unmoving head
Restless eyes
Agony
Blinds
In splinters of
Shards that
Pierce my ribs.
Inhale
Exhale
My ache of air

25-May-2012 19:26:35 - Last edited on 25-May-2012 19:29:55 by Cyun

Archmage Fel

Archmage Fel

Posts: 741 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
What is a poem?

Can you take it and grind it down?
Take apart its essence?
No. A poem is something you wear like a crown.
Something once harsh, refined and incandescent.

Would you consider it a science? Some study with one rule?
If you were to study them long enough, you could make the perfect one?
Take up a hammer, anvil and turn it on a tool,
You'd make something cruel, a phrase of poison.

A poem is like a picture, hanging on your wall.
An image of something close, dear to our hearts.
A poem is not some thing, which you have at beck and call.
On its own, useless. It is the sum of all it's parts.

25-May-2012 20:29:37

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