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Misheard Whisper's Excuses for Poetry
Welcome to the poetry thread of Misheard Whisper, a self-professed prosaic specialist venturing nervously into the world of verse. I will link to each poem from the first post. Contents
This first poem was written after being randomly inspired by reading threads in this section. Somebody asked a question along the lines of 'what does poetry mean to you?' and somehow, that really made me want to write this. I started with just a single line, and it all grew from there. And I know the title is bad. orz From A Wise Man A little old man stands alone on a hill Looking out on a world so empty and still A dim, feeble sun breaks soft o'er the land As he grips his cane tight with a cold, wrinkled hand And he says: I wonder where we went wrong, my friend We did what we thought was right; to what end? Now nothing remains but the moribund earth Death is a dominant force; no new birth But I know: Once upon a time, the world was new A proud sun shone bright and cool breezes blew But now once-mighty trees stand crippled and bare Gasping for life from the dust-choked air And I know: People and family meant everything once I had brothers and sisters, and daughters and sons Yet now they're nothing more than dead memories The terrible smell of dead ash on the breeze Can I dream: That one day, this world of ours may start anew? That one day, I can stand here together with you And look out on the world, love filling my heart As we did long before all these years spent apart? Yet I know: There's one painful truth that we all must face The eternal curse of this damned human race We're only here on this Earth for so long One day we must all hear the angels' sweet song And I see: That day draws near sooner than you know For me, at least, there is not long to go I'll let go of this world reluctantly Leaving to you the new possibility Because you: Are the ones that will carry the flag Even if it's now little more than a rag Tattered and torn, yet never defeated It's up to you to make sure the past's not repeated. My own (loose) interpretation of the poem. Read it after you draw your own conclusions: Spoiler:
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I think of it as an elderly man as his death approaches and that a new life will await him.
I liked this poem, a lot. The rhyming is good and use of words is well done. I believe the message is the most important part, and that you have also accomplished that. Well done to you! |
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This is something a little different, a lot more mundane, but still, I think, quite interesting. The meaning is less far-fetched this time, so I'm not going to put what I think about it. ;) And for those interested, the format is called a butterfly cinquain. She is To me, the world So please, God, tell me why She won't turn round and look at me Damn it. Every day, I see her there Sitting in front of me Oblivious. Unfair. |
Heheh, this one was pretty clever. Especially the format.
And yeah, like you said, it's meaning is more straightforward. It's not a good or bad thing; it's all strictly opinion. For me, yes, it's often a good thing. Good job! And keep going! |
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Overall I enjoyed this poem a lot. Your general interpretation fits it well, I think, though that wasn't the first thing to come to my mind. :p Your second poem is my favorite of the two. Much more simple and less cryptic, although I'm not familiar with the format. Keep up the good poetry! :3 |
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Somewhere
With a smile A transient wish Goes flying to the sky Silent, yet at the same time Resounding Above, an angel smiles Below, a dream comes true. |
That was very nice, short little poem you did. I liked it a lot!
I doesn't rhyme, but I already know it's not supposed to. For being a brief, free-verse poem, it told it's message very well. Great job! :cer_smile: |
I have to say I love the first poem the best. I was reading it and most of it flowed very smoothly. I especially love the format you used for it. Poems that tell a sort of tale, I think, are difficult to pull off without having it sound too cluttered and etc, but I think you did beautifully.
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Just a little something I cooked up this evening. As always, started from one line and built from that. A little whimsical/serious, fun/thought-provoking poem. Take your pick~!
Contradictions I won't be your ghost. I'll follow you to the end of time, I'll watch over you, I'll be your shield and your sword, I'll keep you safe from harm, But I won't be your ghost. You can't make me follow you. I'll go along with you, I'll make sure nothing happens, I'll go anywhere, I'll do anything for you, But you can't make me follow you. What makes you think I love you? I'll throw you a party when no-one else cares, I'll throw down the gauntlet for you, I'll stand by you when everyone's gone, I'll show you what I can do for you, But what makes you think I love you? I can't allow myself to love you. I'll be the beacon that guides you, I'll be the wall you press your back against, I'll be the flame that warms your heart, I'll be the one who stills your panicked soul, But I can't allow myself to love you. Can you still not understand me? I've spent all this time watching you, I've been running in circles trying to help you, I've made a decision, I've said it to you so plainly, But can you still not understand me? Then I guess I have no choice in the end, So I'll say it to you loud and clear. "I cannot let myself love you, my friend, But I'll love you forever, my dear." |
Very amusingly serious. ...Did I just put those to words together?
Anyway, this one I really enjoyed. I like how this thing or idea cannot care for you, but still does good things. It's a huge contrast between what he claims and what he does. The flow is very smooth. I can read the poem from beginning to end without halt. Excellent job! |
So this is the first in a series of poems that I'm writing. They are linked thematically, and nothing more. They will not be in the same format, meter, or tone. I probably won't even post them all in a row, rather dropping one every now and again.
Related to that, I'll try to post a little more poetry in here than I have been doing. While I, as every poet, know that producing quality work takes time and writing one a month is perfectly acceptable - perhaps even a little fast - I will be the first to admit that I have been largely ignoring my writing in general of late - poetry or not. So I might be able to get a poem in here every couple of weeks, but again, I don't plan on rushing or working to a particular schedule. That's how bad poetry gets written. Regarding the poem below again, I understand that it may be a little stylistically different to normal. I was a little leery of it even as I was writing it, but I think I'll take the chance. On Cycles (I) Cautiously, leaf bends, tremulous And hesitant to touch ground Weight of water carries it down Sparkling, glistening droplet runs Smooth as silk of spiders. Splash, leaf arches back up Weight relieved, joyful to kiss sky But sky continues weeping Aqueous marbles of light Leaf bends again. |
A nice little poem for any reader.
A cycle is a great idea for poetry. And I'm eager to see more! It's cool how the first stanza describes one way of the cycle, and the next stanza describes the other way. Overall, good job! Keep going! |
Thought I'd better put my PotW entries in here as well, for, uh, posterity? That, and just the convenience of having everything together. Also as something of a pretense at activity in the hopes nobody will notice that it's been nearly three months since I updated this thing. >_> HOW.
This poem was my first Poem of the Week entry - and incidentally, my first winner. The theme was time. Superior Semper Golden hands Ticking, spinning, turning, always Moving on, inexorably The clock won't stop, so why should we? Keep moving Running, pushing, working, always Looking ahead, never behind Looking for whatever we need to find Don't stop now Faster, harder, higher, better Time keeps flowing, so don't let up The only way to win is to never stop |
Next one was for the theme adventure, and it sure was a fun one to write. I enjoyed it immensely. (Note: this poem also won the contest.)
Oak's Lament It's that wonderful time of the year again, When the wannabe Trainers come by. I give them a Pokemon each, and then They think they can touch the sky. Sometimes I question the wisdom of this: Is it that hard to see? That sending kids into the world like this Is kinda weird; or is it just me? So, off they go on their mad enterprise Just a Pokemon by their side I've got to ask, really: is it that wise? Remember little John Adams? He died. There was a great big cover-up on the TV They said he'd been hit by a car. But the truth of the matter is, you see It was something more sinister by far. He got involved with a gang, you see Called themselves Team Rocket, I think. Little Johnny did his best to make them flee For his trouble he got tossed in the drink. For how's a mere child to fend for himself With just a Pokemon or six? A couple of magical creatures won't help If someone hits you with a brick. But every year, I smile and I wave them on As they go on their merry wee way. I don't know if a kid and a Pokemon Is a team that can go all the way. But I keep my doubts to myself, for sure Because if anyone ever found out That I second-guessed myself, there'd be war. In this job, I've no room for doubt. So I wave them off with a heavy heart, Wondering if they'll end up dead. But in my old age, I can't tell them apart So I shrug and I go back to bed. |
Sod you, double post-merging.
Thirdly, the latest round's entry. The theme is blaze in the night, and the contest is still underway so I naturally have no idea of the results appears to have died, so I have no idea of the results. Background: I'd been meaning to write an entry for quite some time, but it never felt right. After finishing my Maths exam early yesterday, I had some spare time and paper, so I wrote it all out in one go, stuck it in my pocket and brought it home to type up. Crimson Dancer Someone is dancing, A vivacious delight. A flash of red on black lace, A blaze in the night. She leaps, twists and flies, A magical dance. The moment is now, An infinite chance. She steps, and you falter, Breath caught in your chest. You don't know what this is But you know it's the best. You watch, lost in time, As the dance starts anew. Though you're out of her sight, She dances for you. The light from without And the light from within Grow bright as you watch her Flow, leap and spin. Something magical's here And you know it feels right. But as you watch, it's the end Of your blaze in the night. |
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