Win Deer's White Gold Dollars!!
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- deer of the dawn
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Win Deer's White Gold Dollars!!
Write a poem.
Not too long.
I will choose a "winner". Not that I'm any great judge, but since they're my WGDs I will pick one to give 'em to.
One winner per month (or so) as long as my WGDs hold out.
Prize: WGD1000.00
September's topic: What I learned, felt, saw, experienced, was hurt or healed by, this summer.
Go.
Not too long.
I will choose a "winner". Not that I'm any great judge, but since they're my WGDs I will pick one to give 'em to.
One winner per month (or so) as long as my WGDs hold out.
Prize: WGD1000.00
September's topic: What I learned, felt, saw, experienced, was hurt or healed by, this summer.
Go.
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle. -Philo of Alexandria
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
- Rau Le Creuset
- <i>Elohim</i>
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Jeremy The Swan
a terrible poem by Zeta prime:
Jeremy the swan
His neck was too long.
and so he flew away
away from his lake
leaving naught but sorrow in his wake
for he did not know the swan's loved him so..
Jeremy the swan did not return
for in his heart he had a burn
But in his place came short neck Jake
who was quick to take Jeremy's part of the lake
soon the other swans began to tire
of jakes arrogant ire
So they flew afar
almost like to touch the stars
for Jeremy's scar touched them too far.
The End
I just wrote the first poem of my life! even if it's terrible I am proud of my self. it's gonna take all my courage to click the submit button on this... here goes. oh yeah and my inspiration came from a lake I visited this summer.. it had swan's.. any characters portrayed in this poem are strictly fictional and made up by me.. meaning I never met Jeremy the swan.
a terrible poem by Zeta prime:
Jeremy the swan
His neck was too long.
and so he flew away
away from his lake
leaving naught but sorrow in his wake
for he did not know the swan's loved him so..
Jeremy the swan did not return
for in his heart he had a burn
But in his place came short neck Jake
who was quick to take Jeremy's part of the lake
soon the other swans began to tire
of jakes arrogant ire
So they flew afar
almost like to touch the stars
for Jeremy's scar touched them too far.
The End
I just wrote the first poem of my life! even if it's terrible I am proud of my self. it's gonna take all my courage to click the submit button on this... here goes. oh yeah and my inspiration came from a lake I visited this summer.. it had swan's.. any characters portrayed in this poem are strictly fictional and made up by me.. meaning I never met Jeremy the swan.
- Linna Heartbooger
- Are you not a sine qua non for a redemption?
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Well, ya did it!Zeta Prime wrote:I just wrote the first poem of my life!
Welcome to the Watch, Zeta'. =)it's gonna take all my courage to click the submit button on this... here goes. oh yeah and my inspiration came from a lake I visited this summer.. it had swan's.. any characters portrayed in this poem are strictly fictional and made up by me.. meaning I never met Jeremy the swan.
"People without hope not only don't write novels, but what is more to the point, they don't read them.
They don't take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage.
The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience."
-Flannery O'Connor
"In spite of much that militates against quietness there are people who still read books. They are the people who keep me going."
-Elisabeth Elliot, Preface, "A Chance to Die: The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael"
They don't take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage.
The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience."
-Flannery O'Connor
"In spite of much that militates against quietness there are people who still read books. They are the people who keep me going."
-Elisabeth Elliot, Preface, "A Chance to Die: The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael"
- ussusimiel
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As My Twin Dies
I can't make your heart beat
so we lie in these shadows
until you are called away.
Do you die for beauty?
Do I live for truth?
I can't make your heart beat.
From this bed of union,
from this swaddling womb
you are called away.
I hold you all unravished
like a newborn bride.
I can't make your heart beat.
You hold me with all
your unearthly might
but you are called away.
I can't make you heart beat, if it won't.
Here in these shadows I will lie down
beside you. Darkness is all I have
and now the Power is calling.
I take you in my arms,
and place you in the light.
I couldn't make your heartbeat
and you couldn't choose to stay.
Work in progress at the moment.
(It may be obvious that I have drawn from lots of sources for this piece. There are clear references to Dickinson ('I Died for Beauty but was Scarce') and Keats ('Ode to a Nightingale'). Less obvious maybe Larkin ('Talking in Bed') and a Bonnie Raitt song ('I can't Make You Love Me') written by Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin. The version of this song that I am drawing from is the one by Bon Iver.
I also started a thread a while ago about twins.
u.
[EDITS: to fix typos.]
I can't make your heart beat
so we lie in these shadows
until you are called away.
Do you die for beauty?
Do I live for truth?
I can't make your heart beat.
From this bed of union,
from this swaddling womb
you are called away.
I hold you all unravished
like a newborn bride.
I can't make your heart beat.
You hold me with all
your unearthly might
but you are called away.
I can't make you heart beat, if it won't.
Here in these shadows I will lie down
beside you. Darkness is all I have
and now the Power is calling.
I take you in my arms,
and place you in the light.
I couldn't make your heartbeat
and you couldn't choose to stay.
Work in progress at the moment.
(It may be obvious that I have drawn from lots of sources for this piece. There are clear references to Dickinson ('I Died for Beauty but was Scarce') and Keats ('Ode to a Nightingale'). Less obvious maybe Larkin ('Talking in Bed') and a Bonnie Raitt song ('I can't Make You Love Me') written by Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin. The version of this song that I am drawing from is the one by Bon Iver.
I also started a thread a while ago about twins.
u.
[EDITS: to fix typos.]
Last edited by ussusimiel on Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:08 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Tho' all the maps of blood and flesh
Are posted on the door,
There's no one who has told us yet
What Boogie Street is for.
Are posted on the door,
There's no one who has told us yet
What Boogie Street is for.
- deer of the dawn
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- <i>Elohim</i>
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- sgt.null
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summary of summer
equinoxes and solstices,
seasonal lag, the last
unfinished game of tag.
the tilt of a planet's semi-
axis, daylight is continuous,
still searching for Abraxas.
it must be the heat, and
not the humidity? none
of this makes for humility.
a bit of nonsense, gravity
doesn't win, three other
sources where it begins.
a riddle, a puzzle, a break
and a box. summer is over,
time to change the locks.
equinoxes and solstices,
seasonal lag, the last
unfinished game of tag.
the tilt of a planet's semi-
axis, daylight is continuous,
still searching for Abraxas.
it must be the heat, and
not the humidity? none
of this makes for humility.
a bit of nonsense, gravity
doesn't win, three other
sources where it begins.
a riddle, a puzzle, a break
and a box. summer is over,
time to change the locks.
Lenin, Marx
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...
- deer of the dawn
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- Linna Heartbooger
- Are you not a sine qua non for a redemption?
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Friends and Family
Look at you!
With your smile that creases your whole face,
and warms the whole room.
You're the one who talks sense -
the only sane person in this town!
And your sister - she laughs just like you.
You guys are a scream!
And you're the one who went ahead of me:
You have loved me.
Look at you!
So beautiful in your wedding dress.
(If only I could convince you you are beautiful!)
My little sister.
You're the one who I've let down.
Yes, you know I love you - but
I'll keep taking a stab at being a good friend, too.
Listen to you!
With a flood of sincere thoughts seldom spoken,
worries you wrestle with, and good things you see.
You're the one who is scared, and who spent her last dollar,
but still has a tender heart.
I think you will triumph.
You'll never guess how much you've blessed me.
Look at you!
Except I can't, because you live there and I live here.
You're the one who drives me crazy,
but I still want to keep caring for. Dad!
If I say, "I forgive you," you won't believe me.
And you shouldn't, for talk really is cheap,
just like you always said.
I'd better convince you,
but I'm running out of time.
Authors' notes:
Each verse describes a different person from RL.
(nope, none are about anyone from the Watch!)
One fun thing:
The first line - "Look at you" - is actually taken from the friend who I describe in the first verse.
She regularly greets women (whether they're 14 or 94 or any age in between) saying, "Look at you! So cute in that blue dress!" (or "So cute with your new haircut!", or...)
Look at you!
With your smile that creases your whole face,
and warms the whole room.
You're the one who talks sense -
the only sane person in this town!
And your sister - she laughs just like you.
You guys are a scream!
And you're the one who went ahead of me:
You have loved me.
Look at you!
So beautiful in your wedding dress.
(If only I could convince you you are beautiful!)
My little sister.
You're the one who I've let down.
Yes, you know I love you - but
I'll keep taking a stab at being a good friend, too.
Listen to you!
With a flood of sincere thoughts seldom spoken,
worries you wrestle with, and good things you see.
You're the one who is scared, and who spent her last dollar,
but still has a tender heart.
I think you will triumph.
You'll never guess how much you've blessed me.
Look at you!
Except I can't, because you live there and I live here.
You're the one who drives me crazy,
but I still want to keep caring for. Dad!
If I say, "I forgive you," you won't believe me.
And you shouldn't, for talk really is cheap,
just like you always said.
I'd better convince you,
but I'm running out of time.
Authors' notes:
Each verse describes a different person from RL.
(nope, none are about anyone from the Watch!)
One fun thing:
The first line - "Look at you" - is actually taken from the friend who I describe in the first verse.
She regularly greets women (whether they're 14 or 94 or any age in between) saying, "Look at you! So cute in that blue dress!" (or "So cute with your new haircut!", or...)
- deer of the dawn
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- deer of the dawn
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 6758
- Joined: Mon Feb 11, 2008 12:48 pm
- Location: Jos, Nigeria
- Contact:
All right, September is drawing to a close and I have to make my selection. This is hard.
Zeta, I loved that it was your first effort, and hopefully not your "swan song" in poems.
Sarge, you are so accomplished, every word in your poem reeks of the flavor of summer's end.
Linna, even if we hadn't met in person I would know the sound of your voice by that poem!!
But it was ussussimiel who tore a place in my heart open. He gets 1000 WGDs this month. And the rest of you might find a little surprise in your treasure box, as well because each of you blessed me beyond measure.
For October's poem: Halloween takes it's name from "All Hallow's Eve", all hallow's day being November 1: all saints day. Saints aren't floating phantasms too good for this world; instead they are like Teresa of Calcutta, getting their hands dirty and loving the unlovable. We all know someone like that, don't we? Write about a saint you know, even if it's the kid next door.
Zeta, I loved that it was your first effort, and hopefully not your "swan song" in poems.
Sarge, you are so accomplished, every word in your poem reeks of the flavor of summer's end.
Linna, even if we hadn't met in person I would know the sound of your voice by that poem!!
But it was ussussimiel who tore a place in my heart open. He gets 1000 WGDs this month. And the rest of you might find a little surprise in your treasure box, as well because each of you blessed me beyond measure.
For October's poem: Halloween takes it's name from "All Hallow's Eve", all hallow's day being November 1: all saints day. Saints aren't floating phantasms too good for this world; instead they are like Teresa of Calcutta, getting their hands dirty and loving the unlovable. We all know someone like that, don't we? Write about a saint you know, even if it's the kid next door.
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle. -Philo of Alexandria
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
- ussusimiel
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Thanks Deer! And thanks for starting the thread.
I enjoyed all the other entries that were shared.
Here's an old one of mine. Not really related to All Hallow's but it does allude to ghostly stuff and it's about a saint (It's not an entry. If I write a new one I'll submit it later on.)
Haunting
Doing your chores while you’re away
I make the sounds you cause to be made.
The washing-machine, the tumble-dryer,
the hiss of cooking chops.
Washing up in the kitchen
I leave it the way you would leave it.
The table wiped, the sink scrubbed,
the teacups dried.
Hanging clothes on the line
I paint the back garden the colours
you would paint it. Blue of jeans,
jumper greens; the sheets, white.
Folding clothes I find the neatness
that always sneaks into our shirts
and the sweet clean smell of home,
returns.
u.
I enjoyed all the other entries that were shared.
Here's an old one of mine. Not really related to All Hallow's but it does allude to ghostly stuff and it's about a saint (It's not an entry. If I write a new one I'll submit it later on.)
Haunting
Doing your chores while you’re away
I make the sounds you cause to be made.
The washing-machine, the tumble-dryer,
the hiss of cooking chops.
Washing up in the kitchen
I leave it the way you would leave it.
The table wiped, the sink scrubbed,
the teacups dried.
Hanging clothes on the line
I paint the back garden the colours
you would paint it. Blue of jeans,
jumper greens; the sheets, white.
Folding clothes I find the neatness
that always sneaks into our shirts
and the sweet clean smell of home,
returns.
u.
Tho' all the maps of blood and flesh
Are posted on the door,
There's no one who has told us yet
What Boogie Street is for.
Are posted on the door,
There's no one who has told us yet
What Boogie Street is for.
- deer of the dawn
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- Location: Jos, Nigeria
- Contact:
Thanks for that, u. It seems very October-ish, somehow; Fall makes me more domestic. I'm so glad i started this thread too.
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle. -Philo of Alexandria
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
ahhhh... if only all our creativity in wickedness could be fixed by "Corrupt a Wish." - Linna Heartlistener
- wayfriend
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I don't write poetry, but I wrote this poem for the contest, misunderstanding the criterial. So I know this doesn't qualify ... but now I got a poem with no where to go. So I am posting this on the premise of why-the-heck-not. Comments appreciated.
- Really Asked the Djinn
"Really?" asked the djinn
with chagrin.
"Oh, yes; it's what I want"
I filled in.
The djinn's eyes rolled in
as he searched his bargain
for an escape clause.
But it was not there.
He asked me why
not hiding a sigh.
"I'm a patient guy
But I get really tired
of never knowing
what's going on"
said I.
"You know?"
The djinn did not reply
but he asked me to continue
with the focus of his eye.
"It's like this.
I want to know everything
for a change.
I want to know
why people do what they do.
I want to know
why we're here
and why it's like we shouldn't be.
I want to know
what will happen next week
and will I be doing okay
when I'm sixty
and how do I tell Dad
I'm sorry
And if I should.
I want to know
how gravity pulls us together,
and what makes dreams real,
and do stars sing
and what do they sing
to each other
to be less alone.
I want to know everything.
That's my wish."
"Very well" said the djinn
with an insincere grin.
There was smoke
and a flash
and I felt my heart spin.
And I knew.
I knew why people
do what they do.
Why we're here,
what it's all for, too.
I knew songs
sung by stars
to take the loneliness away.
I knew how dreams
and gravity
are the song.
I knew my Dad loved me
in his way
and I knew what way.
I knew my whole life
from end
to end.
I knew about
a guy in a bunker
far below the grass
of Nebraska
named Max.
I knew
Max knew everything.
He'd known for a while.
He'd met the same djinn
and asked the same wish.
I knew
he knew
I knew everything now too
and that he knew
that I knew that.
I knew why
Max didn't want to share the world
with someone else
who knew everything too.
Knowing everything has advantages
if your the only one who knows.
I didn't blame him.
I would be the same.
I knew about
the smart bullet
that Max had built
a wonder
of microchip design
that could steer itself
with an AI
that was damned smart.
It was named Dave.
I knew Dave
had been fired
a few moments ago
and had crossed the world
at bullet speed
and was just about here.
I ducked.
But even Dave knew
I would do that.
.
- deer of the dawn
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- Linna Heartbooger
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First of all, ussussumiel, I love your October poem!!!
It is beautiful: I like the rhythm, and those are images that I really automatically "fill in the details" for.
It's like it's about someone creating art amid two hands steadily, working through task after task, and leaving a lot to be missed in the spaces behind.
I -always- need something more in my arsenal to fight the gloomy ole assumption that working away at all the "everyday mundane tasks" is unimportant and dull.
Of course, the poem was written for someone other than me, but I'm re-appropriating it as a story to encourage me to be beautiful like that!
These are my favorite lines:
I especially liked the transition from the things that the guy wanted to know about to... this:
It is beautiful: I like the rhythm, and those are images that I really automatically "fill in the details" for.
It's like it's about someone creating art amid two hands steadily, working through task after task, and leaving a lot to be missed in the spaces behind.
I -always- need something more in my arsenal to fight the gloomy ole assumption that working away at all the "everyday mundane tasks" is unimportant and dull.
Of course, the poem was written for someone other than me, but I'm re-appropriating it as a story to encourage me to be beautiful like that!
These are my favorite lines:
wf- I was pretty amused by your poem.u wrote:Folding clothes I find the neatness
that always sneaks into our shirts..
I especially liked the transition from the things that the guy wanted to know about to... this:
Jarring at first, (I was like "What just happened there?") but then hilarious.wayfriend wrote:I knew about
a guy in a bunker
far below the grass
of Nebraska
named Max.
- sgt.null
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Sonny (a good boy...)
the great Grunter
Stinkbottom once
unfettered and frothing,
now staid to his trothing.
at night we shelter
in place, under his
imperial aegis, deep
in the heart of Tejas.
brindled and trying to
herd the unheard.
we no longer have
to spell out the words.
he has been our good
boy and our better son.
and truth to the telling,
we are the fortunate ones.
the great Grunter
Stinkbottom once
unfettered and frothing,
now staid to his trothing.
at night we shelter
in place, under his
imperial aegis, deep
in the heart of Tejas.
brindled and trying to
herd the unheard.
we no longer have
to spell out the words.
he has been our good
boy and our better son.
and truth to the telling,
we are the fortunate ones.
Lenin, Marx
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...
- sgt.null
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an homage to our dog, our Saint - Sonny.
based in part on Robert Frost's Canis Major.
Canis Major
by Robert Frost
The great Overdog
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright
All the way to the west
And never once drops
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,
But to-night I will bark
With the great Overdog
That romps through the dark.
I stole the word staid
from Robert Frost's - the Witch of Coos.
the part of spelling out the words comes from
something we once had to do. Sonny learned the words
go and bye. but now he has gone deaf.
based in part on Robert Frost's Canis Major.
Canis Major
by Robert Frost
The great Overdog
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright
All the way to the west
And never once drops
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,
But to-night I will bark
With the great Overdog
That romps through the dark.
I stole the word staid
from Robert Frost's - the Witch of Coos.
the part of spelling out the words comes from
something we once had to do. Sonny learned the words
go and bye. but now he has gone deaf.
Lenin, Marx
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...
Marx, Lennon
Good Dog...