I had a thread a long time ago, but it pretty much died since I wasnt contributing to it at all for a while. So I am going to try to stick with this one, updating it regularly.
I think I will start this new thread with a poem I wrote last week.
A blank façade Covers a complex painting Vast and solid Internally filled with riddles I cannot find purchase On its silky smooth surface But when I manage a handhold I will be face to face with her soul
Felo de se: Mater Trapped within herself She tries to escape But the poison closes in. The words of her family, Her mother, her father, Her son, her daughter, They sound good on the surface. But she knows the truth. In a world filled with shades of grey She sees only black.
If you are talking about how you make a thread, then you just go to the correct Forum room/ whatever and look for the green button at the top and click it. Then type a short title, explain the title in the opening post, etc. I'm pretty sure I saw that you had created a thread that had been locked, so you probably dont need this information.
I cling to the edge, You are my only support. With one hand in mine you hold me here, With the other you push me away. I have a choice: To let go, or hold on. To do whats best for me, Or to do what is best for you. I inhale, meeting your eyes
The sun rises, shedding light on this grotesque scene. Unfolding before them, like mountains of rotting flesh, Are the bodies of the ones they loved. Even in death they are beautiful; Avenging angels sent to rid the world of evil. This battlefield, strewn with corpses, Shall serve as a reminder to all who wish well: Intentions mean nothing. In the end, we were all born to die.
Cablecar, you are not understanding the point of the poem at all.
Such a simple concept, the thought of life. It is like clay, made to be molded; Each persons fate is in their own hands, It is their choice what form it takes. Yet it is impossible to avoid the inevitable: Eventually life becomes brittle, Cracked. The foundation must fall eventually, And the clay must return to dust. Death is not a purpose,but a destination. One that we have no choice but in reaching one day.
The story of my life Is like footprints in the snow The steps now fall heavily And I am left in a hole One that is hard to escape But must melt eventually. A frigid, biting winter Awaits in the future It is all I can do To hold on til spring.
Such a simple concept, the thought of life. It is like clay, made to be molded; Each persons fate is in their own hands, It is their choice what form it takes. Yet it is impossible to avoid the inevitable: Eventually life becomes brittle, Cracked. The foundation must fall eventually, And the clay must return to dust. Death is not a purpose,but a destination. One that we have no choice but in reaching one day.
I really like this one..! It speaks true words; words of which represent how life must go in the end but, simultaneously life of which you make it out to be. I don't think I have the right to express any criticism on this poem - as I don't really do poems on a weekly or daily basis - but, if I had anything to say (or for you to add), it would have been to interpret the fact that in life, what you do, say, listen to, watch, and even how you care to carry yourself in the sense of what you wear, all comes with an outcome. It changes how your life goes on before .."life becomes brittle.
At the same time I could be wrong about what I say - I'm not just talking nonsense, I'm just saying what I feel should be added. Who knows..? I could be wrong...
Either way, this poem reaches a full extent of awesomeness! Keep doing what you're doing!!!;D
I Love The Rain! Rain falls like teardrops from heaven Dotting the land with its diamond downpour The sky reaching down to join the earth The earth receiving without complaint Each one feeding off the other A natural phenomenon, an electric exchange One that can commence without precedence And conclude within the blink of an eye. Beautiful in its volatility, Invigorating in its energy, Purifying with its virgin droplets That meet the ground swift and strong And create the perfect union Of land and sky.
I like the poem above me. It has excellent imagry. Rain seems like such a simple concept, but you've turned it into something beautiful, and thoughtful.
