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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

(In case you're getting a mild case of deja vu, I modified the ending... Cheese is good, but not in poetry.)

 

 

Ordered Chaos

 

Up, down, all around

A sinusoidal curve,

Welcome, dear, to my domain

But do you have the nerve

To burrow down into my head,

Face chaos of the mind

And set it all to order's call

And leave your thoughts behind?

Life has left its calling card

For those who know the signs

The raccoon's mask, the crooked smile,

The absense of the lines

Of prose, so flowing and so sweet -

Ambrosia for the eyes -

I dole out just the smallest taste

And leave the rest inside

The twisting recess of myself,

But now I've found, you see

Imagination at its worst

Resides inside of me.

My muse has fled, my well is dry

Yet only I do know

That cracks appear, small but severe

In the monument of stone

That blocks my path and drags me down

And hinders all my tries

To brew some new ambrosia for

Us both... So that is why

I write this message for you all

To let you know, my dears

I see my muse is limping home

So put aside your fears.

She'll come to stay one of these days

So I'll just bide my time

For ambrosia-flavoured moments when

I turn to prose from rhyme.

 

Edited by: Tralla at: 6/15/02 5:06:49 pm

Posted

Ah - A declaration of creativity! I love it!

 

~Zool~

 

Ancient, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword.

 

Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards.

 

Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.

Guest Balladore
Posted

As I've said before (I think) I don't like interpreting poetry, but it's very very good! Your rhyme (spell check) scheme is excellent, and it's just the right length! I loved it!!

Guest Zephryin
Posted

* Stands, and applauds madly*

 

Ack, gotta stop...hands starting to hurt...

Posted

Ozymandias tosses flowers on the stage. He goes to do the same withis hotel room key, but Gwaihir grabs his arm in the nick of time.

 

Gwaihir: No. Nononono. No.

Noo. Waves enthusiastically as Tralla looks his way. WE LOVE YOU!!!

 

A wave of groupies crashes against the stage.

 

Throng: Traalllllaaaa!!!

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