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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

I wrote this for a girl, but I'm scared to show it to her. In your experience, do girls get freaked out by guys writing them poetry? :< And is this a decent enough sonnet? And is romance dead? And should I show her? :<

 

Twelve chimes, one hundred ticks, and twenty more,

And modern time displays your fatal name,

Which stops my breath; an effort to restore

My thoughts leads only to your face, the same

Resplendent beauty keeping me, less bold,

From reaching out at once to hold your hand,

Or offering my arms against the cold,

Upon that night that you and I did stand,

Awaiting signs of romance. Who'd have known

That one such night, alone, could symbolise

An interest more serious than shown?

For even as I looked into your eyes,

And longed to hold you closer, (I still do...)

I couldn't say a simple "I like you..."

Posted

Nice. I'd have to say that I like it better than any of my "romantic" poems. The pace is fast. Very fast. It seems like you took three sonnets' worth of material and crammed it into one -- which I'd have to say is a good thing, since you did it well. One of the greatest strengths of poetry is brevity. A good novel is roughly 300-800 pages, typically. A good poem is roughly 10-30 lines, typically. (Because it takes more effort to crank out a solid page of decent poetry than two solid pages of decent prose, for the average person)

 

As for whether or not to show it to the girl... Couldn't say. It depends on the girl. And no, Romance isn't dead... it's just pining for the fields. ;P

 

Good luck. I, for one, would be honored to have someone write a poem of this quality for me.

Posted

while by age i no longer qualify as a "girl", last i checked i was still female.. ;)

and one regret in my life is that i never moved anyone to words in such a way.

while my daughters and her friends might be a bit taken aback, initially, because it's so unfortunately uncommon.. they would also be very pleased and likely to melt at the thought, the effort, and the sentiment.

 

Really - what do you have to lose?

If she likes you, she'll appreciate knowing - and in such a lovely way.

If she likes you only as a friend, she should still appreciate the honesty and class.

 

and if she likes you as much as you like her, but is too shy herself to say so, you both lose by not letting her know.

Posted

If you're really clever, you can figure out her name from the first two lines.

 

I'm talking "Sherlock Holmes"-clever though.

 

You can have a cookie if you can even be bothered trying :)

Posted

So for those who are still pondering on the first two lines;

 

The time in the poem is 12:02.

 

Twelve chimes, and 120 seconds.

 

"Modern Time" is a digital clock, when you see 12:02 on a digiclock and kinda squint, it looks a bit like her name...

 

12:02

 

R: o z

 

:<

 

And I've now found out she's kinda got another guy on the go, the question is, do I still let her know I like her? :\ Sorry to turn this into a relationship advice thread :\

Posted

hmm... well, I say get to know her a little first like cypto said...

 

Introductions find common ground and what not...

 

keep it up a few days... if she shows interest... send her the poem...

 

oh but here is something I learned the hard way... Just 'cause they melt for you poems doesn't me they will neccessary melt for you. It may go to their head and sure they'll be flattered... but hey you never know if you don't try...

Hell, I wrote a lot poems for a lesbian, I fell for once... she loved the poems and attention... but that's about as far as it could go... ya know...

 

rev...

Posted (edited)

It's finished anyway, I don't want to talk about it...

 

The blooded curses, worsening the air,

In wooded, green tranquility, rage free,

While branches in the wind sway with despair

Around the figure of the youngest tree.

An elm, to signify an untold pair,

With intertwining roots and banded heart,

And colours that the leaves and insects share

Whilst hiding from the sudden form of art

Of death in nature's grasp, without a care

For peaceful silence, lonely with the birds,

Where thoughts of you dare not covertly flare,

And I can live without your weary words.

"It ends tonight," I scream, and with cold hands,

I fell the helpless elm tree where she stands.

Edited by drummondo
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