Forum Moderators: wheatpenny, Wolfenshire
Writers F.A.Q (Last Updated: 2024 Nov 29 6:28 am)
Still working on an image to go with this one. Orions Gate Jet trails span Orion toward a cratered moon. The remnants of silvered charms faded in the solar wind. To leap the stars in search of hidden treasures. And to save worlds from peril. Far from the shrinking world below and someone they forgot searching between the stars.
A thousand worlds of wonder, are dancing through my mind A thousand worlds incorpreal, that only I can find No eyes can see their beauties and no ears can hear their call... Have I birthed a thousand worlds, only to doom them all? Worlds of barren iceflows, alight with frozen fire Dim green light beneath the trees, or burning like a pyre Dark blue depths of muffled sounds, where mighty sea beasts wend... If I can't keep them turning, a thousand worlds will end. Human worlds, or lifeless, or worlds with alien kind: Heroes, fools and villians, and lovers gaily blind. Two hands, four hands, suckers, those who whistle, shriek or purr... And if I can't portray them, it's as if they never were. Their empires and their townships their struggles and success The generals who battle, and the leaders who impress The seeds of change they planted and the harvest of the crop... And if I cannot find the workds, a thousand stories stop. I spend my days in striving, to bring them to the light Only to find their numbers have expanded overnight No matter how I labour and no matter how I strive, Only the merest fragments ever can be made alive... But a thousand worlds of wonder, are trapped inside my head A thousand worlds all fated to die when I am dead And so I keep on hoping I can pass some on to you... By sharing them with others, I can maybe save a few. This is the most depressing thing I've ever written, so maybe it isn't the best thing to drop in with, but the topic seems so wonderfully apropo. :)
Are there guidelines or rules to post? I ask because much on my work is threaded together with the image I have created. I do not know if one can live without the other.
Another member, tjames, said in his comment to my work that I should come visit.
Please let me know if I can include my art, though it would seem out of place here.
Thank you,
Yoshi
DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR POSTING. Yeah, what dialyn said. Trust me, she's the expert on it. ;-}~ If the story and image are intertwined, please feel free to post both. I ask that the image size be kept reasonable (I don't have a set number - just think dial-up) and obviously that images and stories stay within TOS but otherwise have fun. Welcome to the Forum! Cres
Content Advisory! This message contains nudity
Here is something. I don't know to call it a poem because it is intertwined with the picture but here is the link to it.
I know you say to not apoligize but it may appear as nudity in the image. I do not wish to offend anyone but I would like your opinion and critique please.
Yoshi
Almost Home J. M. Strother I know these hills, these valleys, Those old familiar trees. I know the house in yonder field, The smell upon the breeze. I know these roads I walk down now, The byways of my youth, My spirits rise as I approach That old familiar roof. And as I tread upon these feet, Which have seen many a weary mile, I see an old and familiar face That greets me with a smile. As I round the final curve in This path that I now roam, My heart swells in knowledge that I am almost home.
~jon
My Blog - Mad
Utopia Writing in a new era.
Farewell Columbia J. M. Strother Again the news rips at my heart Seven lives, in but a moment, gone. Seven hopes and seven dreams; Fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers. What cruel fate takes away these brave, The pioneers so shortly on our shores? Their lives so blessed, yet so quickly taken away, To leave a hole in our very souls. Crush not our dreams, oh cruel fate. Crush not our hopes, for we refuse to yield. Farewell Columbia, bright spirit in the sky. In memoriam: STS-107, January 16-February 1, 2003 Commander Rick D. Husband, Pilot William C. McCool, Payload Specialist Michael P. Anderson, Mission Specialist Kalpana Chawla, Mission Specialist David M. Brown, Mission Specialist Laurel B. Clark, Payload Specialist Ilan Ramon.
~jon
My Blog - Mad
Utopia Writing in a new era.
Road Cloud J. M. Strother The morning begins in a slow drizzle. The car is packed. On the road before a muted dawn. The girls in back, awake, then dozing bored. Vacation road trip. Many weary miles to go. The asphalt ribbon wends up and down, This way and that. Mountain road, seldom traveled. My wife points ahead; the mountain hides. Watch for Fog on Road. She looks to me with worried eye. No real choice, we carry on, slower now. Road climbs into the mists. Hey girls, I say over my shoulder, We're in a cloud. Sitting up, they look around. We're in a cloud? Then, amazed, We're in a cloud!
~jon
My Blog - Mad
Utopia Writing in a new era.
Sorry I haven't written..If you look at my gallery you'ld find I've been doing some cleaning also. I guess every artist goes through a stage where nothing is good enough and items thought good before are seen in a more critical light. May challenge is up. I'll see if I can think up another while I'm at it.
Well, it won't be the best poem in there, but I'd like to submit this one. I hope someone likes it :-) Shouting Into The Dark. by Shoshanna. When I am gone, What will live on of me? Will someone think to tell Rend'rosity? Perhaps this page will still be here when I Have passed to other worlds? I'll learn to fly Among the stars, a virtual being near And hope to move the casual reader here. The thought that I may touch you once, when I am gone Lends me the strength each troubled night to carry on. Do we post here, to shout against the dark? Encode a page upon this web to leave a human mark? Are these advances in our desktop schemes Used to reach out in search of human dreams? I may be lost already to the world And stumbled unaware upon my words you read unknowing Perhaps one day my son will find this part of me unfurled? When he is done with teenaged trials and growing I feel myself decaying as I speak And type against the fear that makes me weak. Will I have time? Is it too late already? Will I grow blind, before my visions steady? Can I translate the wonders I have seen So you can see and say you know exactly what I mean? Or is this all a simple "look at me!" I'm special nowhere else, but here, maybe? Could I but live in real life as honestly as I live here Would I have lived a life Less full of fear?
and on a lighter note: Kihon, Kata, Kumite by Shoshanna. Kihon, Kata, Kumite. Will I gain my belt today? Hair brushed, hairband matching belt Sensei enters, my mind melts Oh help! He's gorgeous, that's not right. Last belt the sensei was a fright I'll never pass now, that's for sure I swear I smell Chanels' Allure. Kihon, Kata, Kumite My chance has come and gone today The test is over, now to see If there's a new red belt for me? I don't know should I laugh or cry I got my belt, but I want to die. One hundred people heard him tell me "Do more sit ups...you got a big belly!"
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In honor of National Poetry Month, I'd like everyone to post an original poem in this thread and I'll put them in the Library at the end of the month. It can be a new poem, or one that you've posted previously, free form, rhyming, whatever you like. If people are interested, I can also put the poems together as a .pdf anthology with original artwork from the poets. Cheers!