The idea of the darker red being the "light" maybe meaning of colors?
AleyBean's Journal
30 posts in this topic.
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The idea of the darker red being the "light" maybe meaning of colors? -
Treeeees whispyness, fluidity of motion -
Um. The story of this little painting. -
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OMG I ALMOST FORGOT
I want to write some structures this time! I really want to write an Acrostic a few times. I want to show acrostics with sentences rather than words. -
There's that one type, um, what is it....
nope, can't find it, so instead. I challenge you self to write a ...
http://shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/terzanelle.html
I've been shying away from this monstrosity for a while. I'll probably love it. -
I want to write a fantasy poem. Maybe something with dragons?
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Write an epic version of Quirni b1
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Spoiler
Accept the Rain (Renamed Let it Flow)
I stand in the rain and listen to it falling.
It's falling on my face and running down my body.
The more I let it fall on me the more I feel like crying
Giving into my one temptation,
Just breaking down and sobbing.
I've waited for this and that,
I've waited oh so long,
My patients is my greatest thing,
as I've stood here
waiting all the while.
I can wait forever, I've proven that to myself,
but I can't take the pressure for as long as I can stand.
I'll blow up from the inside out just standing in the rain.
The water will infect my lungs,
I'm slowly loosing the war I wage.
Depression hangs like a cloud over my dorm,
The cloud hangs low ready to burst, so that it can float away.
Mountains in the distance hold up the blackened sky,
They make it growl and tumble,
They make it like a balloon ready to pop with tears.
I'm standing without my umbrella, in a valley oh so deep.
I want someone to come rescue me from this feeling just so meek.
My wants won't be fulfilled though,
As no one see's me here.
They see right through and past me,
No one hears me so near.
Maybe one day the rain will stop,
Or maybe it will turn to snow,
Maybe one day I'll see the sun again,
Or maybe,
One day I'll just grow old.
A day of whispers and sorrow, holds me tight to my bed.
A phone call wakes me up, but nothing finds me but dread.
I dawn my gown and walk out on the porch for brighter days,
But brighter days are still far away.
The rain's still pouring outside harder then ever, just the same.
So for now I'll just turn my head up,
and accept the rain.
depression poem maybe rewrite using the idea of acceptance not being something that can cure anything? -
Spoiler
Dead Wrong
I was so sure
about the answer
that my knowledge was sound
that nothing would go wrong.
I forgot Murphy's law.
There are so many things each day going wrong
it all went so bad
I guess I never thought about…
Well I suppose I never thought.
Perhaps I'm being hard on myself,
I had something right,
Right?
I guess not.
I didn't even understand what I needed to do
My eyes stare ahead
As if the wall will change something.
My feet weigh too much to stand.
My legs are counterbalanced.
My arms won't lift that paper again.
I can only sag back into the chair.
How could I be so wrong?
The processes stop
As dread washes over my soul
And through my limbs with such a weight
That the paper flutters to the ground.
I have no idea what this is about, but it could be a great drama about something silly. -
Spoiler
Dec of never wry convention,
Waking sleepy heads and furrow
not your brow. We stand upon your
sleeky top a-donning winter gown.
You're neither here nor anywhere
in times of such chaotic woe,
so follow not my midnight dance
and Dec, please let me go.
I neither want your hope nor love
upon my brow or fingertip.
You ail my skull with nightly touches
petting with a drip.
Dec of never wry conventions,
Time to let me go.
Blow now upon another shelter
And do not furrow so.
Although my kind see you as ending,
Beginning or the middle are you now,
For Dec stays with no calendar connection,
No clock upon a wall.
Dec near such a fall convention,
Time to let me go.
idea of seasons holding people and being avatars. -
Spoiler
Sometimes in the darkness
A light will shine it's brightest.
There are stars that cannot see themselves
And there are glasses
That have no limit on their wall.
We choose where to make the rim
And drink from what glass we make.
At times those filling our glass
Don't fit our choice,
We can bathe
In the overflowing pool of water.
It splashes the floor like rain
Children dancing in the puddles
Splashing one another
As you sip from your cup.
The star will only shine
As bright as it can be.
There's no limit to how much it can see,
For it cannot see its own essence and shine.
The star that doesn't shine as bright
Is merely one with less aspiration to be
like it's neighbor,
A star that cannot see.
It looks behind itself
Instead of down with a smiling face.
It gazes at the others
With longing
And waits for the day
That it will be as such.
Slowly it is turned and such a star exists,
For now that star is one that cannot see.
This is but a gift
Though the time is not designated
This is but a chore
Though the repetitions may not get old
This is what we make it,
And no one else.
We chose to see the light for the stars
Or the field for the grass.
The glass we make
Pours steadily from a fountain
The glasses tip and one will fill the other
Back and forth the water neatly churns.
There's no loss or gain
But each time the water churns
More spills from the cup than before.
It overflows and washes past warm hands
The cool silk trickles over the back
And runs down the arm
Dripping off the elbow
It is only what we make it,
be it wet and sloppy
Or a cool refreshment from a sunny day.
This will only be what we make it.
There's never any more
Than we choose to hold,
There can only be less.
When there is less,
When the glasses click together
And one waits patiently,
Another cannot accept the future water.
It's time to fill the glass at a different well
It is time to dig a new
And search for the proper well.
this poem needs to be reworked.
glasses that have no rim, no depth, unless we choose one = love -
Spoiler
Puzzle
There for an instant,
Gone in a flash.
Work with the wonders,
And save something at last.
The work can be toilsome,
But the relief is rewarding,
Building the sky and letting fall,
Corralling the dams of the celestial beings,
Saving the peace of the one's that are living.
Piecing together what was once whole.
Saving the puzzle for when one grows old.
Live for the moment,
Or live for the time,
Save for the trip,
Or spend every dime.
Life is a puzzle just waiting for space.
Care and consideration with no hard feelings or remorse,
Some cannot solve the puzzles of time,
While others choose to ignore the solution.
Blinded by greed and coinage are they,
Respecting not what the coins may say,
Every time they spend without a pint of a thought,
Only to gain again what was once lost.
Destinations are promised by those who never reach,
Those who have ridden on the promise they were bound,
Have found truth or falsehood in the puzzles solid ground,
For those that find truth passage be toilsome,
For solitude and reservation stole from others puzzle on theirs.
Not all pieces fit in a puzzle of time,
Some see this advanced,
While others deny,
Steal from your neighbor what you have lost,
That is mainly what has been taught.
Not on purpose may one say,
But on accident mayhaps.
Shall I undo your solid reservation?
Or let you pass over your own creation?
Nay say I the answer to this,
Toil all night and may you be bliss.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
The first stanza is about life.
We're only here for a moment and we're always trying to do something that will last past our time.
The second stanza is my thoughts on such things. We're attempting the impossible like corralling celestial beings and trying to make peace thus it changes into building puzzles of our lives, making things fit together to understand it once we grow old like asking the question "Why was I alive?"
The third stanza is a statement about how people live such as living for just now like you'll die tomorrow or living for the future.
the fourth stanza is that some people don't think about life and others think about it so much that they can't figure out how to live The first line is a connection to the puzzle from above I think and how people end up leaving the world. At the time my view of it. I have to change that second line.
The fifth stanza is the clearest of them all. It's saying that when you are blinded by money and you live for money you might stop respecting what the coins say meaning if you look physically on a coin it says "In God We Trust" and Liberty, these things are ignored by people when they get greedy about collecting what they're on which is totally a backfire of the message and thus they need more to gather what they lost by being greedy.
Then the sixth stanza is the religion portion. It doesn't strictly have to do with it but it is about that when I wrote it. It's basically saying that those who don't try to succeed what they say are those who promise great wonders. The people who follow the promises either find their own form of truth or falsehood in life and the makings of life. For those who believe that what they've been told is true, passage is hard to come by and they're using other peoples lives to try to achieve their goal. It's kind of like my way of saying that religion is bogus if you didn't' learn it for yourself. You can never be sure of the ground you stand on because you didn't know it yourself, you knew it by being told and trusting another's word is a hard way to go.
The seventh stanza broadens the spectrum and states that everyone's lives is all one puzzle and not everyone's puzzle fits into that. Some of us see this as something higher power and others say that there's no way that we don't all belong alive etc. Then the statements change dramatically stating how we go about living.
My statement is that we steal our lives from others to make our lives closer to perfect and that we depend on each other even though people would deny it, so perhaps it was an accident we depend on others.
Then the last part is stepping back form it all and asking if you would like me to unsteady your views on life and death or just let you find out for yourself.
break this into tiny poems. -
Spoiler
The Shrine
Softly whisper sweet words
of waiting in the trees,
sadly parting as petals fall
to forest floors.
The world has come to taunt us,
rain on our happy days.
With our love around us
we make it shine in our own ways.
Smile for my sun.
Dance for dry, warm, grounds.
Laugh as birds sing in spring.
Last
hold me close,
or I shall hold you,
and together we warm our souls
around the fireplace.
Soft whispers in the air
and nothing between us.
Not friends, or misconceptions,
no duel of tongue or taunt
of our privacy exploited.
You and I, warm and cozy.
A sly smile slips from our lips.
we know that without the sun
to aid us, we surely shall do fine.
As the sun might glimpse upon us,
we have seen the allure lose it's shine.
Sun will no longer make our worlds benign,
we, now, are one another's shrine,
with this love so divine.
omg the sap!
write some sappy poems! -
Woo, my inspo is done!
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