reverie Posted March 16, 2002 Report Posted March 16, 2002 Elders and Masters, the mages of old. Titantics Bard your stories well told Peace loving Saints, worth all of your rank. So ever so clever -you poet and tellers. One heralds the ancients of long long ago. A delight to all pages - how heros conqured past woes. always happy the endings, else exotic or strange... What else would you expect with some many --braaaaaaaaaaiiiiiinnnsss (winks at trimz) Hiya... Would like to join. Promise to cut down on etc marks Please. Can write sometimes-- quite well am told. Other times bad real bad or crazy or a mixture of all three, but always is much fun for me, revery. Not sure if you wanted orignal work or not. so am including both old and new. First old. like old test before new testestment. Here goes. One two three once again go... Weary Eyes(also on project aristotle) Weary eyes from sleepy fates Try to make the whole world great, Snipping threads for weaves misspun... A cutting floor of ruined fun... Sleepy fates forgetting love Require some, at times a shove... Someone call them, wake them up Remind them, of the treads they cut... Someone call them, wake them up... To answer then, for what was struck: Trim we will and trim we must A pity if we slice too much, Forgive for all the pain we cause. Allow some time for joy to pause... And down the line when one appears We'll be more careful with our shears. Weary eyes, from sleepy fates Control you lost, when love you take... The reins belong to those entangled To make amends of all you mangled. Free from what they cannot see Cut loose the web and let them be. Untying knots, would bind another To forget them one, would make all suffer. Clotho spins a frame to fit, Chaos rules, least we knit... Joy and sorrow must take their turns Cold or Hot, we all must burn. Misguide them, bind them, shroud all in dark Cruelest fates, you have no heart All who died, and all who left A sudden cry, love's last regret Pain in waves, must all this pass Leave joy alone; leave off your wrath. And if one must plead to weary eyes, Forgive us all theses fated cries. Though they try and send for guards Fate, pity not this lonely bard Do not explain, just make it right Forget your laws, forget we fight Embrace your brother, feel his pain Destiny's not a lofty reign Come then down, from where you stand High above, your false command... Cherish not your at random role See how life must pay the toll. Then leave it all, to the dice? Ataxic rule would be so nice... If all's to chance, an anarchic fate Eyes shut to all, a rest to take But spin we will, and spin we must Fortunes, lives: all in our trust Belonging not to you or whims For not you see, for whom we spin... Fate knits not for heaven nor for hell, But to worlds, where living dwell... 'Ordered change' through chaotic moves Crafts an age where all must prove That every life is all their own... A lovely thought, so it is known Let them play, let them pretend A delver's smile, a knowing grin Build you lives, as best you can And wonder not of guiding hands Weary eyes from sleepy fates Try to make the whole world great Snipping treads from weaves misspun A cutting floor of ruined fun... Trim they will and Trim they must Crafting lives when threads they cut... Streams of things and tangled strings Braided lives entwined in rings Shallow hearts and tired souls Heroic pride and sainted roles All lovely patterns, though snags abound All will end up on the ground... fin... --------------------------------------- Hi, still there pen? Okay now new. Everyone ready? Untited. apoligies to mr. joyce and my old old ex. Fountain lost his ball. A shiny green ball glowing bright in his head. This bothered him. Long again Sandra had put it there for him. To make him remember. To help him to forget. -Now fountain i'm putting this ball in your head she said. Hold still. Yoga's what you need. It'll fix you right up. -There now, green glowing ball has a home, said the yoga enthused one. Bally should be fine, i don't need him anymore. What a mess of conflicting emotions. Bally be a good sponge for that. So bally lived in Fountains head. So centered. It rested peaceful soaking up the rays of Fountain's day to day rage and anixity. Growing stronger everyday washing away the fountain boy's worries. (*author's note --bally is ball, not void. Void is nothing so therefore bally cannot be void. you dang wheel of time fans.) The hunger, your hunger it -never will cease. Even if now A Fountain finds peace. Tragic struck. Fountain found new friends to live in his head. -So i take this here pill type thing and no more rage huh, fountain asked Dr. Lithuim. -Sure take it, for three months and maybe a day. I swear it will make take all that unneeded color away, replied the Doc. Maybe i should have found a better line of work. Peddling pills that make the blue sky turn gray. So mellow, the boys find him one world only to play. But it makes them more happy or dependent or both. And ballys not needed only nothing a ghost... ------------ well i'm being kicked out of this cafe so bye... later revery the dreamlost "the world is vampire..." smashing pumkins the dream continues... " Edited by: reverie at: 3/16/02 4:59:32 am
Peredhil Posted March 16, 2002 Report Posted March 16, 2002 LOL! Peredhil reads through with enjoyments many. Watch out for Dr. Lithium, he'll poison you in a minute.
reverie Posted March 18, 2002 Author Report Posted March 18, 2002 Again Again? My friend again. When last you wrote- am I a joke If a should try, don't let me die Again, Again Again, my friend... --------------- Hi again Pen... Just dropping by to vent some more creativity. I'm short on time too, like Vincent, but that actually seems to help. Funny how that work huh? Castle walls, so silly they seem. To lock all out, to stare all mean. We huff and puff and blow you down. So maybe you come back to the ground We hear you talk and what you say, Now make some time, some time for play If we knock loud, then will you bend? To shed some light, to let some in... revery the dreamlost "I love everybody, except the people i hate." the dream continues... Edited by: reverie at: 3/18/02 5:41:12 pm
reverie Posted March 19, 2002 Author Report Posted March 19, 2002 Still alittle pale from the ordel, Revery's jaw drops. Staring breathlessly above him, he gather himself enough to lets a long wistle go. -Woooow, nice reply. Good job what ever the heck you are? *smiles and applauds* -Lets see, Wyvern. Wyvren. Oh here it is. Main Entry: wy·vern Pronunciation: 'wI-v&rn Function: noun Etymology: alteration of Middle English wyvere viper, from Old North French wivre, modification of Latin vipera Date: 1610 : a mythical animal usually represented as a 2-legged winged creature resembling a dragon -oh i see, so your almost a dragon, but not quite. Well that's okay, 'cause i'm almost a dream. Anyway, it's broken_reveries@hotmail.com. Oh don't worry it doesn't mean broken dreams. There's enough broken things in the world without having to break those things too. revery the dreamlost "linophobia: fear of string" the dream continues...
Wyvern Posted March 19, 2002 Report Posted March 19, 2002 Reverie briefly skims over his application one last time, making sure that everything he has written looks very professional and presentable for the Elder of Initiates. He then adjusts his interview suit and slowly turns to the door directly down the hall labeled "Recruiter's Office"... Taking a deep breath, he summons all his courage and strides to the door, hesitantly rapping it several times with the back of his fist and waiting for a response. When the door isn't answered after around 5 minutes of waiting, Reverie decides to enter the unlocked office door and make himself at home on a comfortable applicant waiting chair. He doesn't notice a sign that had been carelessly tossed to the side, which reads in the familiar hand writing of Melba: "Spring Cleaning... please do not enter!" Outside of the Pen on the grassy hills surrounding the great abode stands an enormous crane, beside which there appears to be an empty box of a room that is not yet connected to the interior of the Pen. At the controls of the massive construction vehicle rests Wyvern's Almost Secretary of Initiates, Melba, who sighs while looking over several construction plans layed out before her. Spring cleaning... how she hated this time of the year... In order to clean out Wyvern's office, a special procedure had to be performed in which the previous office room was lifted out of the Pen by means of a crane and was replaced by a brand new one, the contents of the old room then being dumped into the new. If anyone were to try to clean all the dust and muck of the office by hand, they would probably spend their whole lives doing it... there was simply too much waste to get rid of. The construction procedure had proved to be far more efficient, and only slightly more costly... Melba puts away the plans and decides to get to work. She skillfully steers the crane to directly outside of the west wing of the Pen, where Wyvern's office lies. Melba had had a great deal of previous experience working with cranes, as she used to be part of the demolition work force before she left her fourth husband... Bringing the hook of the crane down, she catches the top of the office room and begins to pull it off the ground... Within Wyvern's office, Reverie yawns and is about to check what time it is when all of a sudden the room around him begins to shake. At first, he mistakes this sudden vibration for an earthquake of some sort, but when the entire room he stands in is lifted out into the morning daylight by a gigantic crane, he loses his calm. Reverie lets out a scream that immediatly catches Melba's attention, and the Almost Secretary suddenly notices a terrified person in the room she had just lifted off the ground. Melba's attention immediatly goes to the safety and well-being of the applicant, as would the attention of anybody who had previously worked in the 'demolition task force, 7th division". She follows the safety procedures she had learned in her task force days and rapidly swerves the crane into more open territory, not taking into account the Pen's left. The Almost Secretary curses as she accidentaly swings the hook of the crane directly through the majestic tower, tearing out Falcon2001's room from it in the process. Falcon, who is showering, screams as his entire suite is pulled out into broad daylight. He screams yet again as a cheerleader band passes by and begins laughing, as well as several girl scouts selling cookies outdoors... Fortunatly, the horrified Quill Bearer manages to reach for a towel before tabloid photographers can begin taking pics... Melba roars in frustration as the weight of Wyvern's office and Falcon's suite combined proves to be too much for the hook of the crane, and the two rooms get disconnected from it simultaneously. They land directly by a group of potential future applicants on a tour led by Wyvern, who gape in awe at the disasterous event. Much to the Elder of Initiates dismay, the group he is giving a tour to decides that this would perhaps not be the safest place to archive their future works, and begin walking away... Wyvern quickly rushes up to the rubble of his office/Falcon's suite and, in compensation for any inconveniences felt by Reverie, stamps his application 'ACCEPTED'. OOC: Good application, Reverie... I particularly like your poetry, which has a very distinctive rhythm and feel to it. Thus, you're hereby ACCEPTED as an initiate, welcome to the Pen! If you could post your e-mail here or send me a mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so that I could send you the passwords and such, that would be great. Thanks. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 3/19/02 12:50:26 am
Guest Minta Rose Posted March 20, 2002 Report Posted March 20, 2002 "Two thousand boxes of Thin Mint cookies???" The troop leader's eyes were painfully wide. Tzimfemme quirked a grin and decided to further impress the girls. "Yeah," she casually remarked as a shadow passed over her head and away again, "that'll last us for a season or so. You will be reselling at that time, yes?" Something exploded. From shocked silence the girl scouts broke into screams and giggles. Tzimfemme smiled evilly until she realized that they were all staring behind her at the ruckus. She swiveled around into a billowing cloud of grit and, coughing, saw a lily-white behind dive for cover. She pursed her lips in a minor pout.
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