The Chrono Compendium Poets Bakery

[Lord J Esq]

A number of people have asked for it, but no one has created the thread yet. Well, here it is! Post your own poems, or other people's poems that have affected you, and share criticism, praise, and other human passions.

[tushantin]

Hah, here's mah entry.

1) In an attempt to create one in the style of a nursery rhyme (plus the swearing), I initially wrote this or the eProject. The rhyme says it all. (I know, I did post this here before, but right now I don't have any recent ones; plus, some criticism would be appreciated)

Miyabe, Miyabe; what do you seek?
Hunt for the night in a land so bleak?
And the hunt ran for dear life,
But hunger conquers love and strife.
Run, Miyabe! The monster is in tow.
Strength is unmatched; only deceit will follow.
Stand pompous for your payback is due
to the monster; "Hahaha! Screw you!"
And yet your tricks have no effect
On the hunting prey that hunters neglect.
Lo, Miyabe, the moral stays true!
Don't mess with those bigger than you.


2) My second entry is Gambler's Song, inspired by Final Fantasy 6, something I wrote two years ago. It was supposed to go with the Setzer theme or Blackjack, I kinda forgot.

The prayer of a Gambler --__-- Setzer Gabianni

Daryl, your voice rings my ear,
Even now when you may speak no more;
Daryl, your soul lives within me,
Even now when Fate strikes me to the core.

Turning the wheels, racing beyond time,
Scouring the skies in search for you;
Care not, fear not, words fade
With the winds that blow over the few.

I am but armed with Aces of Spades,
To who I befriended, a sole promise departs,
Never again will I leave again
The person beloved with Aces of hearts.

Fate’s cards be oh so cruel,
Must why our prayers be broken so,
Beyond the mist, I can’t see the light but
I have my own cards to play for long I go.

Daryl, your hands have gotten numb,
Lend me your cards; lend me your wings;
We will fly together once again,
For eternity’s laments the phoenix sings.

And I remember the sight, the speed,
Our wings flew over the horizon away;
You did not return as I kept waiting,
Nights fell, turned the day…

Daryl, lend me your wings, for I
Will keep your spirit free over the cloud,
Will keep your heart strong in my cards,
Challenging Fate, deeply into its mystic shroud

[Manly Man]

Haikoo tiem!!!!11!!!1

Wasting time away
Has a certain allure to
It; there's no worry.

[Sajainta]

Hah, here's mah entry.

1) In an attempt to create one in the style of a nursery rhyme (plus the swearing), I initially wrote this or the eProject. The rhyme says it all. (I know, I did post this here before, but right now I don't have any recent ones; plus, some criticism would be appreciated)

Miyabe, Miyabe; what do you seek?
Hunt for the night in a land so bleak?
And the hunt ran for dear life,
But hunger conquers love and strife.
Run, Miyabe! The monster is in tow.
Strength is unmatched; only deceit will follow.
Stand pompous for your payback is due
to the monster; "Hahaha! Screw you!"
And yet your tricks have no effect
On the hunting prey that hunters neglect.
Lo, Miyabe, the moral stays true!
Don't mess with those bigger than you.

The sixth line is awkwardly longer than its predecessor.  Even though it's only longer by two syllables, it disrupts the flow of the poem.

The "Hahaha! Screw you!" part clashes with the rest of the poem.  With words like "lo" and "pompous", "screw you" sounds crass and sounds like it was shoved in at the last minute in order to find something to rhyme with "due", and the laughing is even more out of place.

I like the last two lines a lot.

[tushantin]

@Saj: Thanks! Okay, here's my explanation.

For the sixth line, the initial idea was this:

Run, Miyabe! The monster is in tow,
And remains unscathed by your bow.

I had to change that line at the last moment because my team mates were too lazy to model and rig a bow. But I know what you mean; I admit, that's no excuse to be so careless when it comes to poetry.

As for the "Screw you" bit, I thought it was pretty clever. XD Yous see, in the script there was an instance where Miyabe sets a trap for the beast, and when he succeeds he flicks a finger and swears, "Screw you". But if it really does ruin the feel of the poetry, I guess I should take care not to make the same mistake again. Thanks for the input!

[Mr Bekkler]

Here's a song of mine whose lyrics make me proud. The syllables aren't perfect, because with my singing style I have a little wiggle room on some parts that have to go faster or be held out longer.

It's called "Wishing Well"

The black hole that eats little kids' pennies
At the bottom of the wishing well
Won't grant a wish, he's not that friendly
That black hole is the eye of a monster starin straight out of hell

He has a booming voice, like thunder
With it he spits back their hope
So the wishes grow in size and number
The children simply can't cope

They say
"Oh, what a world, where our wishes bring us worry,
Where our pennies only bring us pain."

He says
"I cannot fix your lives, for that I'm sorry,
But I'll end them if you just want change."

I just want change
I just want change
I just want change
But I just won't...

Those children grew and hunched, they ache now
Their savings lost with their will
They threw in coins expecting change (and how)
If only they wished each other well
...at the wishing well.

[tushantin]

@Bekkler: You've got a fan!  With the half-assed lyrics in pop-songs these days, I'm quite impressed with the creative concept you've played with here. You ain't just a singer, mate! You're a Bard of the Compendium!

  I'd like to hear ya sing that. Only then can I judge how you plan to place the words.

Those children grew and hunched, they ache now
Their savings lost with their will
They threw in coins expecting change (and how)
If only they wished each other well
...at the wishing well.

That bit speaks to me.

[Mr Bekkler]

Thanks, man. I'll upload the mp3 in a little while if you want to hear it.

[ZeaLitY]

  And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,   
  In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender’d,   
  While he from forth the closet brought a heap   
  Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd;           265
  With jellies soother than the creamy curd,   
  And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;   
  Manna and dates, in argosy transferr’d   
  From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,   
  From silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon.           270

Keats was incredible. The best imagery ever written in the English language is found in his work. http://www.bartleby.com/126/39.html

[Syna]

Bekkler, I love the metaphor to death. I'm a little iffy on certain lines, but as I said earlier, that's really hard to determine without hearing the song. If you're inclined to put it up, I'd like to hear it!

And yeah, way to shut down the poetry thread, Zeality. How the hell are any of us supposed to follow up Keats?!

[Manly Man]

This is how:

"Once there was a giving tree who loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come to play
Swinging from the branches, sleeping in the shade
Laughing all the summer’s hours away.
And so they love,
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

But soon the boy grew older and one day he came and said,
'Can you give me some money, tree, to buy something I’ve found?'
'I have no money,' said the tree, 'Just apples, twigs and leaves.'
But you can take my apples, boy, and sell them in the town.'
And so he did and
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

But soon again the boy came back and he said to the tree,
'I’m now a man and I must have a house that’s all my home.'
'I can’t give you a house,' he said, 'The forest is my house.
But you may cut my branches off and build yourself a home.'
And so he did.
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

And time went by and the boy came back with sadness in his eyes.
'My life has turned so cold,' he says, 'and I need sunny days.'
'I’ve nothing but my trunk,' he says, 'But you can cut it down
And build yourself a boat and sail away.'
And so he did and
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

And after years the boy came back, both of them were old.
'I really cannot help you if you ask for another gift.
I’m nothing but an old stump now. I’m sorry, but I’ve nothing more to give.'
'I do not need very much now, just a quiet place to rest,'
The boy, he whispered, with a weary smile.
'Well,' said the tree, 'An old stump is still good for that.'
'Come, boy,' he said, 'Sit down, sit down and rest a while.'
And so he did and
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad."

Shel Silverstein. I still can't help but enjoy him, and I've loved his stuff since I was a kid.

[Bard_of_Time]

And yeah, way to shut down the poetry thread, Zeality. How the hell are any of us supposed to follow up Keats?!

With our own, of course. (oh man I never thought I'd have to dig out my old creative writing notebook... I can't think of anything off the top of my head.)

Where we stand now
Has become a place all alone.
A culture of solitude.
Each person wrapped in a bubble.
Every day they blow around
Pushed by the winds of 'progress',
Every day the same as the last.

But once in a long while,
A bubble pops
And the person inside can see
The faithful blue sky for the first time.
Sometimes the person gets crushed by this new world,
Sometimes he finds a new bubble to be protected by.
But once in a very long while
He pops someone else's bubble
And shows him the way the world really is.
I guess that, even in this land of lonliness,
We can find a place where we still discover.

... I miss my creative writing class.

[tushantin]

@Bard_of_Time: Your writing has more meaning and less art. No wait, before you judge anything, I just wanna say that it's a complement.  I, for one, jumped into art before meaning.

I was wondering what your next path would be to writing (or re-writing this), especially when improving the art-side to make it a little dramatic. Would you follow the traditional rhymes? Or would you try something different, like those alliterative poetry?

[Bard_of_Time]

I honestly have no idea. I'm not much of a rhymer, because it feels like it limits me. I just want to get my ideas out there and not sound too cutesy. As for alliterative poetry... same thing. If I want to use one word and it doesn't fit the form that the rest is going for (like I want to describe the sky as orange in a rhyming piece or if I use the word xylophone in an alliterative piece), then I get frustrated. I know what I want to say, but I can't say it. Free formed is better for me.

[ZeaLitY]

Fine. Here's an original:

If You Ask Me To

A pool of water platformed on the bay –
Soft blue that emanates behind the clouds
And carries moonlight through sweet summer air;
The pleasure of an ivory display;
Of arches; glasses; ocean columns roused
To gently host enchanted evening scenes;
Enwrapped in your embrace and loving care,
Your form a cherished glow from starry fays,
Your face, the highest arc of beauty's essence found,
I know that fantasy cannot compare
To our experience in night serene;
To passion; warm desire met and sewn
In kiss – our feelings rise among our dreams,
And disappear into the tender morn.