Harmonious_Echos

of kisses I know plenty, and other nighttime things, for I'm a Queen of parties, masks, masters, and cruel strings...

No problem... Hey, now that you explain the grave thing, it does make sense. I was just over-thinking it...as usual...lol! *hugs* happy thanksgiving BTW!

out my window(though I dare only peek through the heavy curtain, in the state of undress I am currently in), someone is setting off fireworks, bright tinny popopopps of green and white and blue, sprinkled against the dark reddish-brown of a city night sky. Below that, cars are rushing to and fro frantically getting in position for the battles tomorrow...for the day after Thanksgiving is the day of days, when mother turns against daughter turns against grandmother, sister against sister, father against son, in the frenzy of early christmas-gift sales...but I digress. Other than that, the streets are empty--those not rushign around in cars are eating with family, so a lot of houses' windows are dark, and a few are extra bright. No-one walks out on the sidewalks below. The street-lights tint everythign an ugly shade of browny-orange...and the wind is bitter cold...

Hmmmmmm....makes me want to curl up and sigh contenedly and write heaps of depressing poems too...those are very good, Ryan. I did spot a few things that might be mistakes-- "Shadowed mist and visions of lucid though,"---what did you mean? Was it "Shadowed mist and visions, lucid though"? Or was it supposed to be "Shadowed mist and visions of licid thought"? Also, (not to nit-pick), but this verse doesn't make much sense when you use the descriptives 'wane' and 'waxed' with 'seeped' "The day shall slowly wane my friend, The moonlight waxed and pure, Shall seep upon my bloodless face, " To 'wane' is to end, which works for day ending, night beginning. Then there comes a "waxed" moon...but the light only "seeps" on your face? "waxed" means full, or bright, while a "seeping" light implies only a tiny bit of light, or a narrow beam. When you use those two together, the affect is that it makes me try too hard to think about what you mean in the phrasing, and then I lose the flow (and the general beauty) of the poem. Otherwise, great job... *tacklehugs* oh, and please don't be too depressed...we still want you around!

I was surprised so http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif I used a little smiley and then I was glad someone changed my shape into a lumpy creature now I'm really mad eyes of shadow, light and dark, all mixed together windows to the soul I try for five then I can't think of seven more so I give it up *hides*

Harmony looks at Wyvvern(whose tongue is still hanging out), then Kikuyu, then Degorram, curiously. "Who is Orlan? I would like to meet this Orlan, and see if he is as sexy sexy as you say."

Harmony's eyes widen, as her gaze takes in the dress, Wyvvern's expression, and Kikuyu lying on the floor. Her muse shivers and shape-changes into a tall red flame...her eyes change color to a deep purple. Then, to everyone's suprise, she begins to giggle hysterically...her face flushing pinker and pinker until she distinctly resembles the hot dog lying in her lap. She laughs for approximately 10 minutes straight, her entire body flushing bright red, and causing everyone in the barbecue to look at her nervously and mutter under their breath. Finally she gasps, coughs, chokes, and stops, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, oh..hehehehe...Aahahe, your faces...D-Don't worry. Don't worry! It's changeable." She grins up at Wyvvern, an unusually toothy grin, for such a ladylike-appearing girl. "It's Almost-Magical Brand Chameleon Silk." She stands, shakes out her dress, and a ripple of rich, dark reddish-brown barbecue-sauce color spreads from the stain outwards until it colors the entire dress...including her skin, which stays bright red, and hair, which changes to a dark chocolate color. She winks at Kikuyu. "Nice moves! Wish I could do that..." She turns back to Wyvvern, who is staring at her uneasily. "Oh, Muse doesn't really have a name. Or a personality, actually. She's a she because I am...but I just call her 'Muse'. The Nine have names, though. Muse is just the conduit for The Nine." She looks expectantly around(wondering if she can still eat, now that she's sauce-colored).

Here's a few more, first some REALLY old ones...the first two I wrote when I was in 8th grade, when I first met Muse....and then a few from my high school years(when I was really into having everything rhyme and rhythem out just right), and then a few later ones, better ones, towards the end. Friendships Friendships Small fragile circles Swirling colors of sadness Or joy A school of bubbles Fading, brightening, tempered By words and thoughts, By dreams and ambitions Small groups of humanity Taking life as she comes Some bubbles pop, Flinging anger and hurt On to others as well But after awhile A vagueness of youth Gives way, as we find Our own version of reality Bonds strong, walls high No newcomer can break our shells We must open of our own will And let new friendships grow Pass me by You who are my friend, (You make me laugh, on days that are gray If you would stay my friend, (When you see me, I will smile) Don't pause— Don't stop or look deep into my eyes Don't pause Don't try to lift the mask on my face Because if you look beneath You will not see anything at all, I am a hollow, empty, breathless shell, Of what I used to be, in The days when I was truly me.. You who are my friend, (A bright flower in the desert of life), If you would stay my friend Don't—don't pause— Pass me by The Adoption Bitter-sweet- This tiny One I held For but a moment- I wonder as I wander though the hallways of my soul. These tears, this joy, this pain- Will it ever be enough? Small one, So soft, so warm, so helpless, So very mine— Yet never was and never will be mine. My heart sobs for your scent, Trembles at your cry, Just one more glance, one more touch- Just one, and then I’ll go and let you be- I’ll send you off to live your life without me Don’t cry, you’ll love them- They’ll love you- But never while I still draw breath Will I forget this, my Bitter-sweet moment with you… I Am the Queen I am the queen of unjust smiles, secret plans, hidden files, I creep around a question asked- then run for miles. I’m Empress of mournful cries, stained hands, reddened eyes, I never care, I do my task- but in disguise. I share with you this piece of Fate, Love and trust, never wait, my heart was lost between the lines- now it's too late. The Poplar and the Willow The willow fair and poplar grow side by side on a hillside green; together they watched o'er the forest below, and the animals, grass, and weeds. The sturdy oak and the pine watched too, Side by side on a hill nearby They watched o’er a busy, and militant spot Where a city soon came to rise. They stood tall above their fast-paced world, Looking down on it all with pride; Until men with saws came and cut them down To build scrapers for the skies. The oak and the pine once mocked the two as they guarded their simple spot; but the poplar and the willow wept when they saw their friends' trunks cut. The poplar and willow were kinder than the oak and the pine had been; Though if you are any kinder than I still remains to be seen. This Too Shall Pass It was long ago o'er the darkened fields, 'mid the clouds of fatal gas, That a colonel beckoned his private near, and he said "This too shall pass." It's been longer still since a mother wept for her daughter was breathing her last; As she died, the child looked up and smiled- "Don't cry, Mummy. This too shall pass." Far out at sea lay a sinking ship, ripped by enemy cannon blast And as the sea buried broken bodies it whispered "This too shall pass." The ship has rotted, the mother is gone, and the fields are covered with grass- Though your hope be worn and your life, war-torn, Just remember, This too shall pass. Limerick A portentous young Porpoise one day declined to leap in the spray Said He “’Tis most cold, And as I’ve been told I might freeze right to death as I play.” RATS. Are they rodents? Or neighbors? They scurry, crawl, pay taxes. Burn trash in barrels. Peek in my windows, Scoffing, At my lack Of a tail… Chaos’ Snowflakes We sparkle we Sing a song of sixpence Read A Catcher in the Rye See Baby’s little thumbprint Baked in the pie The silverware all disappear And the Doggy in the Window So kill another Mockingbird And hang your head low, love Like Jack Frost’s merry snowflakes We all dance for Mother Nature And as the sun rises and falls We shine, in a chaotic life Riddle She wears the scent of autumn mellow and sweet and bright When twisted ‘round with cinnamon Christmas comes to mind Merry, she flowers in spring-time Picture a Robin there; And in Autumn you see her With jewels in her hair. Of Caramel Apple Dreams Candied apples in the fall once spoke to me of lanterns of campfires warm summer nights and overnight trips to the lake. But now candied apples hurt my teeth and lanterns hurt my eyes… somehow campfires are drear mosquitoes hover, ever near and even summer nights are cold when you’re older… Lakes grow into swamps grow into meadows and time unmerciful spoils even my candied apple memories.

Count me in! I'll be the daughter of the Miller, A Miss 'Sisie' Susanna Caroline Dean...age 11, brown hair in pigtails, always dirty, loves to explore everything and anything, loves to invent strange creations, and posessing of a particular love for one-upping the town boys in all things...

*Harmony peers around the corner, hair falling gracefully around her eyes* Ah, a new face! Welcome, Welcome to this unhallowed hall of creative thoughts...

Or, you could just do it the easy way, and NOT try to explain how you can say in words what is beyond them...just write it anyway! The attempt of writers to discribe what is undiscribable, is what writing is really all about. If you don't want to use a sentence or a 'spoken' phrase to discribe the feeling of this communication, then you could try to say it by discribing the emotion that is felt...

O My Gawd....and I thought I knew 'dumb blonde'!!! I gotta copy this for my sister, she'd crack up...like I am now...that is soo awesome...Someone should seriously put that scene in a movie!!!! they'd make a killing!

Degorram, I really liked the poem too...I thought the rhythem was a little choppy, but it still worked well, probably better than I could do it! In any case, I see a lot of truth in the phrases "children of disaster", and the whole last stanza...I especially liked the part "all can't see with thier own eyes/that life at all is living". I've felt the frustration at humanity in general, that we so often take for granted the things which should be most precious to us, and lose sight of what life really means, in the rush and chaos of living. Great poem! *Harmony goes off to beat up her muse, to try to wake her up*

Uuh...huh....

Heh...makes me think of all the folk dancing I used to do with my parents...*sigh* ah, memories. My mom and papa were (and still are) the best polka-ers I know...

Harmony arrives with her accompaniment, a ghost-like muse with a lute, floating above and behind her. She glances dreamily at the food, then decides she's not hungry, and politely seats herself as close to Wyvvern as possible without seeming too forward...or getting barbeque sauce on her cream-colored silks from Ran-Yoko's avid munchings. She arranges her dress and her muse and begins twiddling a strand of golden hair between her fingers, attempting to think of something witty...

A young maiden in a cream-colored silk gown catches sight of the red-hair from a tower window and waves goodbye...

I like the way your poems have a rhythem to them, a certain beat...even without an actual rhyme scheme. I especially liked "hope", the way you ended it with one word. Keep writing!

See, I can write OF love...but never of being IN love...not romantic, just depressing...

Two Hearts in Love We are two hearts in love My soul, my eyes A heart that longs That lingers with a gentle touch, And too, a heart that cries. We are two hearts in love, My self and I A heart un-shy Ravenous and cunning Starving for excitement. So we feel shame And shamefully take our prize live just to lift our bloody trophy high; And my two hearts weep to be clean Of our sweet, ghastly sin. We are two hearts in love, Our hour is near For ending love’s embrace Forevermore. In the Dark Feeling my way in the dark I strike a match On my calloused heart And watch it burn awhile A candle’s no use here This darkness surrounding me Is a part of my soul My tears fall, pointless now Like the match, Falling dead from my fingers Light gone Leaving me to feel the burn In the dark again How To Warm February What do you make of February? The coldest month of the year- The most drear-- A time best spent in school, Spring dances, Or otherwise huddled In groups to keep warm. And yet, for all its many Weatherly problems, It is known to many as the month for love? Perhaps our dear Saint Valentine In all his wisdom recognized-- That a little love goes a long way-- and love is by far The best heater of them all. For a tree’s life I wish that I could be a tree; I’d fly fast and far on stiff wooden wings, Settle deep into dark, forgiving earth, And there begin to grow. I’d turn out my leaves fresh and new every spring, And put my flowers on display for awhile, Birds might nest in my branches, Children might carve their initials, And I wouldn’t need to care. I’d bend when the wind blew, Revel at the Sun’s touch, Stand naked outdoors in the coldest of winter, And sigh softly for joy when the rain fell, Using my leaves and branches as the instrument Of my happiness.

Thanks, AuroraAoD! Here are a few more poems... Old Temptations O Temptation, Dear Old friend- Have you come a-haunting me A-haunting again? Standing ever by me On Razor’s edge I’ll tred; While you teach the facts of life Night is Black, Blood is Red. You must hold your foes close but hold your friends away, lest they become too close, And know to get away from you… O Temptation I'm feeling your old flame Have you come a-haunting me a-haunting Again? Trapped Sinking Choking lungs screaming for air it is hard to die- still harder to live- dark water foaming over my eyes Over my head bubbles fleeing from my sight-- The frenzied scrabble of my hands slows, and now my head is throbbing with the nearness of death Dark water whispering sleep, sleeeeep… yet my numb fingers close around a car's door handle and I am free! Soaring up breaking the surface gulping air, my heart racing Realizing I will not die today! Magic Lantern I am a genie in a golden lamp My magic lights the way for others here Yet, trapped inside my cell I cannot see The light that shines from me You are the genie in the lamp I hold Your magic lights my pathway through the night I wish to break your bonds and set you free To shine for all to see

hehe...

'Yikes'! 'quoth I, 'pon reading the last bit how do I write of Pain, knowing of it? For pain with knowlege makes a poison drear which brings on me paralysis, from fear...

Interesting...very interesting...can't say I understand any of it, but it's got a lot of good descriptives, makes you think. Just not quite sure it makes me think about..except insanity...

Very, very good....much better than the works I saw on Poetry.com...I especially liked the one about shifting time, that rang true for me as well...a sense of being trapped in one's self, unable to leave or change. That's what I got from it. *retreats back into own cell*