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Favorite Poetry, ??? |
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The Metal Mallet |
Aug 29 2006, 03:38 PM
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Master

Joined: 18-June 06
From: Kitchener, ON, Canada

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Oooo! Poetry! Later on I'll post my poem I did in Creative Writing. Personally I didn't think it was spectacular or anything, but I guess my teacher really liked it since she gave me 98% on it. I'll post it later since it's on a different computer, I'm currently at work  As for quotes, most of the ones I like are usually found in music lyrics. You can see a few in my signature... I also like goofy quotes. Heck, I was in the midst of creating a Word Document that just consisted of funny quotes from this one webcomic I read called 8-bit Theatre. Then I became more involved here at Chorrol, so I kinda got bored of that. Here's one of those from the top of my head: "Mmmm paintchips and powerlines! My childhood rocks!" - Fighter
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I am currently a Writer in The Order of Schola. Official Fan Fiction Forum "Commentasaurus"
"This body, holding me makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion" - Parabola (Tool) "This here ain't called boasting, it's called truthin' " - Mango Kid (Danko Jones)
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Wolfie |
Aug 29 2006, 10:50 PM
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Mage

Joined: 14-March 05
From: Dublin, Ireland

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I'm not a big fan of poetry by any stretch of the imagination, but if i had to choose a favourite poem it would be September 1913 by W. B. Yeats
In case any of you don't know it, here it is:
What need you, being come to sense, But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence And prayer to shivering prayer, until You have dried the marrow from the bone; For men were born to pray and save; Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave. Yet they were of a different kind, The names that stilled your childish play, They have gone about the world like wind, But little time had they to pray For whom the hangman's rope was spun, And what, God help us, could they save? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave. Was it for this the wild geese spread The grey wing upon every tide; For this that all that blood was shed, For this Edward Fitzgerald died, And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave. Yet could we turn the years again, And call those exiles as they were In all their loneliness and pain, You'd cry `Some woman's yellow hair Has maddened every mother's son': They weighed so lightly what they gave. But let them be, they're dead and gone, They're with O'Leary in the grave.
But i'm not even all that fond of that one lol
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 D�anaim smaoineamh, d� bhr� sin, t�im ann - Descartes Only the dead have seen the end of war ~ Plato Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed. - G.K. Chesterton EnsamVarg
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The Metal Mallet |
Aug 30 2006, 12:05 AM
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Master

Joined: 18-June 06
From: Kitchener, ON, Canada

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Okay, I'm home now and have access to my poem. It's called No Respect.
You think of me just as an insignificant speck, don’t you?
Something just for you to carelessly step on every day.
You’re absolutely fine with that.
That just goes to show you how much respect I get.
I provide, I nurture, I create, and I shelter.
Yet I’m the subject of scorn from everyone.
At least your children understand me,
With their bright eyes and playful hands.
I could spend hours upon hours soaking up the sun with them,
Getting wet and reaping blissful havoc of the Great Outdoors.
Yet as soon as your sights lie on your precious little one spending time with me,
I end up battered, assaulted, and “cleansed” away.
No respect at all I tell ya.
The most spectacularly amusing part about it is that you don’t think I affect you.
Let me dish you the dirt.
I’m always with you.
Whether it is the collar of your shirt, or just the tiniest little cranny,
Like your nails, a wrinkle of skin, or a shoe bottom.
I’m hanging out there, violating your “cleanliness is next to godliness”.
I surround your home, heck, I could be the foundation of your home!
I mould your clay and purify your water.
Most significantly, I’m your eternal partner.
For there’s six feet of me embracing you for eternity once you die.
I'm not one to do rhymes so I basically wrote a free form poem. Hope you've enjoyed it.
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I am currently a Writer in The Order of Schola. Official Fan Fiction Forum "Commentasaurus"
"This body, holding me makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion" - Parabola (Tool) "This here ain't called boasting, it's called truthin' " - Mango Kid (Danko Jones)
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Abu the Cat |
Aug 30 2006, 01:17 AM
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Agent
Joined: 6-August 06
From: Letitikaka

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I thought of one on my own (OMG, I'm in Eighth Grade, too!), but:
My name is Abu I play a Kazoo I live in a Canoe I eat and I chew I pee and I poo And I like to go outside, too!
This I made up about my cat. Obviously, the part about the Kazoo and the Canoe are made up! Yes, I named myself after one of my cats.
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Bow down to one of my cats!
Se llama Abu! (His name is Abu!)
 cryocry on TESSource Join the Order of Shorn
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Abu the Cat |
Aug 30 2006, 01:24 AM
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Agent
Joined: 6-August 06
From: Letitikaka

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QUOTE(Intestinal Chaos @ Aug 29 2006, 06:20 PM)  QUOTE(Abu the Cat @ Aug 29 2006, 05:17 PM)  I thought of one on my own (OMG, I'm in Eighth Grade, too!), but:
My name is Abu I play a Kazoo I live in a Canoe I eat and I chew I pee and I poo And I like to go outside, too!
This I made up about my cat. Obviously, the part about the Kazoo and the Canoe are made up! Yes, I named myself after one of my cats.
Never again. Huh? I don't get it- Why can't guys like cats and be cool at the same time? Kitties rule!
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Bow down to one of my cats!
Se llama Abu! (His name is Abu!)
 cryocry on TESSource Join the Order of Shorn
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The Wolf |
Aug 30 2006, 01:58 PM
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Agent
Joined: 28-September 05

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Power vested upon his paws He respects none of the laws He'll rule the world forever . . . as soon as they invent paw-usable tin-opener!
A little (humoristic, at least I hope so) poem I came up with, now that we started to talk about cats...
. . . (Returns from the depths) anyway, here's another poem I've come up earlier, which has absolutely no rhymes.
Peaces to pieces Is that all they can do? We live the new age, the golden age And all they think is war and destruction?
Hate and fear Oil and gasoline Is it worth the killing?
A creature of war, human What does nature mean to a man? Bugs and insects, dirt and mud (Cycle of life, about to end)
Sky filled with clouds Polluted and sick Scorching the world with acid And humanity battles itself
Peaces to pieces Is that all we can do? We live the new age, the golden age And all we think is war and destruction?
But what can one man do? Nothing (everything)
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treydog |
Aug 30 2006, 02:25 PM
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Master

Joined: 13-February 05
From: The Smoky Mountains

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If I must inflict my poetry on others, I will simply resurrect the following from the "Post Your Poetry" thread. It is "about" something that anyone who lives in the Southern U.S. should recognize.
Green Violence
Transplanted, as were our forebears Finding new life in the red clay A manic growth that holds us In the summer heat That draws us back when we wander
It softens and hides the shapes of The hills, as our accent softens our words And conceals the iron underneath An explosion of green violence, Overwhelming and unstoppable as our passions Makes fantasy monsters of trees whose ancestors Witnessed true monstrosity
It covers all equally- The groundhog burrow and the slave shack The Chevrolet Grandma and Grandpa drove to Ringgold to get married Not a native, yet inseparable from Our image of ourselves A part of us now, That covers all, forgives all, grows as our Children grow, Not always as we wish, but as it must Climbing too high, spreading too far, reaching through The fences we build.
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The dreams down here aren't broken, nah, they're walkin' with a limp...
The best-dressed newt in Mournhold.
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Ibis |
Aug 30 2006, 08:20 PM
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Mouth

Joined: 30-March 06
From: Florida Moon-filled Sleepless Nights

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Yes of course treydog!! You are talking about the slow, insidious creeping Kudzew (sp?) invasion! That is what we call it here in Florida ... sounds phonetically like .. Could-zoo. I hate that stuff!
They had to totally tear up and clear and replant our favorite park here called Meade Gardens in Winter Park (it is one of the main features of the Winter Park Boat Tour because the boat canals cut all through it.) Poor Mead looks like an embarrassed Southern Belle stripped down to her bloomers because she fell ingraciously into the mud and Mammy has to relaunder all her finery and redo her hair, etc.
Of course Meade isn't the only place, just a worst example of what is happening all over when left unchecked. The worst thing about Kudzu is that it not only covers everything but shades out and kills everything below it until it kills the very trees that are supporting it and will itself fall to the earth and take over right over the grass itself. Gahhh!!!
We also had a strange vine doing the same thing on our cedar tree at our old studios that I used to constantly pull outa the cedar ... bright orange tiny squash looking fruit with intense shocking pink flesh that the birds ate and spread the seeds of all around....
So Anyway ... I really liked The Wolf's poem too = a real thinker
============ Here is one of my favorites ... I consider Jimmy Buffet to be quite a poet ... a non-thinker, singalong{
A Pirate Looks At Forty By: Jimmy Buffett Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall You've seen it all, you've seen it all
Watched the men who rode you switch from sails to steam And in your belly you hold the treasures few have ever seen Most of 'em dream, most of 'em dream
Yes I am a pirate, two hundred years too late The cannons don't thunder, there's nothin' to plunder I'm an over-forty victim of fate Arriving too late, arriving too late
I've done a bit of smugglin', I've run my share of grass I made enough money to buy Miami, but I pissed it away so fast Never meant to last, never meant to last
And I have been drunk now for over two weeks I passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks But I got stop wishin', got to go fishin' Down to rock bottom again Just a few friends, just a few friends
(instrumental)
I go for younger women, lived with several awhile Though I ran 'em away, they'd come back one day Still could manage to smile Just takes a while, just takes a while
Mother, mother ocean, after all the years I've found My occupational hazard being my occupation's just not around I feel like I've drowned, gonna head uptown
Coda: I feel like I've drowned, gonna head uptown
Quote:William Blake ("If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it truly is, infinite.") and from Aldous Huxley's book about psychedelic drugs, The Doors of Perception .... The Doors were named.
This post has been edited by Ibis: Aug 31 2006, 08:07 AM
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 <--- Moon Cookiies for all who join @ TESFU
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