Poet's Club

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

Wow, the club has been inactive for awhile. Let's choose another theme. How about we do a tribute to the best princess and make this week's theme the moon?

Edited June 8, 2013 by Mellon Collie

[Technicolour Dream (Sunny) 38]

Wow, the club has been inactive for awhile. Let's choose another theme. How about we do a tribute to the best princess and make this week's theme the moon?

LOVELY IDEA MATE! i love the moon! good ol' artemis keepin' a watchful eye o'er the wee mortals below. im in, and will have a new one up in a day or two.

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

If we really are going for the moon, then I'll offer this piece which also has a reading.

 

The Full Moon

 

 

Let sit, let rot my intention.

My views are led askew by the very feelings that derived them.

This accursed moon is of no help, it's light is all too inspiring.

I find myself staring away at the beauty that beholds itself to be this moon.

This moon, whose light grips me tight, not letting me continue my destructive self-loathing.

This moon, this wonderfully awefull moon. Why do you shine on me?

I am not worthy of a grace of light that you reflect so elegantly unto me.

My words do little to compliment the wonders that you bring about.

My words, taken aback, as I find myself unable to speak.

 

I attempt, mostly in vain to stray away from the moonlight.

To continue what i must do, to continue hating myself for my gifts and flaws.

Oh but how the moon shines!

It breaks my heart, and fixes it all the same.

I cannot feel myself witholding anger at any force whilst in this light.

I am sorry, I cry for you, this beautiful moon, it blesses my heart and cures my ills.

No longer do i feel the need that i started this poem with.

True, no longer must I feel such a way knowing that the moon slowly arcs this sky.

I watch it, never faltering, never pausing in my admiration.

 

But, I find that this is where my life halts, for this is when the moon sets.

No longer do I see the full moon, but rather a blazing orb of fire.

I attempt to look at it as I looked at the moon.

Trying to take in its beauty, so that I can feel that joy again, Butr I cannot.

The Sun does not wish to be seen, as she refuses to allow mortal eyes to gaze upon her.

So I feel this blatent disredard for my own pitiful life.

I find myself wallowing once again in my own despair

Loving nothing, and missing the moonlight, I cry, tears of such a pain.

I find myself writing of these turmoils, of these wallows, of these feelings for the moon.

I know not what to think, so I cast it all aside, and wait, miserably, for the moon.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Sky Warden 2,243]

So, uhm guys... I love writing since it's the only art I can do other than martial art.  You can see that writing thread which is pinned on the Creative Resource sub section. Honestly, I'm terrible at poetry, and the poems I wrote at school were... well, be laughed at. Then I started playing with it, using a traditional style of my culture. This poem isn't finished yet. I still need a better closing.

 

Please give me your opinions on this, but be gentle please, writing poems gives me the headache.

 

 

 

The world laughs, a mortal laugh.
Hatred came, kindness ends.
Behind the cries, be hidden laughs.
Behind the smiles, be hidden blades.

The world laughs, a lonely laugh.
To the one who raises love, be given hatred.
To the one who raises nostalgic, be given revenge.
Souls praise for nothing, but the wrong heaven.

Shines the bright moon, far is the road.
Can't love, can't let go.
The heart is too high.
It can't be reached.

It seems a flower, yet is not.
Appear as mist, yet is not.
People grow old, the heart does not.
The rushing river, can't be stopped.
 

 

 

[Feather Spiral 1,892]

Of such a thread I heartily approve

Soon as I saw it, I swear I grinned

C'mon Mods, help us spread the groove

I kindly request that this be pinned

 

I'll also post a couple poems of mine, of which I'm particularly proud. They're available on my DA gallery in a folder named "Songs and other poetry", and the descriptions always provide some insight as to how they came to be.

 

 

DRAGON TAIL

 

 

There is not much more I still desire,

It's a quiet and beautiful night;

Bathing in the heat of a campfire,

We're all gathered up in the starlight.

 

It feels so warm, in my body and soul,

With these sweet songs, but I hope it's not all

I need a story,

Adventure of epic fantasy.

 

 

So let me tell a tale, dragon tale, I will if you ask me;

They are such great beasts;

I will, if you please,

Tell my very best stories.

You wanna hear a tale, dragon tale, come on everybody,

I know you'd love to,

I really want it too;

So here's a dragon tale for you.

 

 

Check the bestiaries 'round the Earth

And see how the same creature comes up;

Even way before their cultures' birth,

People talk about how they showed up.

 

Terrorizing killers and tyrants,

Or protecting watchers and guardians,

Always dazing,

Fascinating, simply amazing.

 

 

So let me tell a tale, dragon tale, make you feel the hot fire

Blazing through the skies

And teach you to fly,

Or at least give it a try.

You wanna hear a tale, dragon tale, just a humble desire,

Oh I understand;

They span through times and lands,

When everyone else falls they stand.

 

 

They may not always look quite the same,

Yet they're still a constant of cultures;

They may sometimes bear a different name,

But they're still the most common creatures.

 

Some of them have specialties, hidden skills;

Others love to try and tease, give you thrills.

They always seem

Real yet beyond your wildest dreams.

 

 

So let me tell a tale, dragon tale, set us all in motion,

Fly and dart around,

Blazing roaring out;

But that's not what it's all 'bout.

You wanna hear a tale, dragon tale, cross the lands and oceans,

Islands and countries,

To follow their stories

For more secrets and mysteries.

 

So let me tell a tale, dragon tale, come on everybody;

I know you'd love to,

I really want it too;

So here's a dragon tale for you.

 

This one is all about me, it illustrates the reason I chose my various current usernames also.

Dreamer with a Quill

 

 

I've been opening my mind

Taking one small step at a time

Once in my body tightly imprisoned

Minding my own selfish business

Now to my friends deeply devoted

Though still clumsy nevertheless

 

Most want the sun and burn their wings

I aim for the stars where I'm meant to be

Wisdom and love infuse my writings

If you understand that, you know me

So let me show you how it all rhymes

How I express my best and worst times

 

Your mind must actually be real narrow

To find any of my words a tiny bit hollow

Because here is how I use my poetry:

Weapon against hatred, idiocy, bigotry

Occasionally I'm uninspired or confused

Then I just wait to hear from my muse

 

Best way to think is with your mind free

Let it touch things you may not even see

Moderation is best in any discussion

I praise reason without much sanity

Listen to judgment rather than passion

I accept self-confidence, not vanity

 

It's quite hard to become a true friend

You need to gain some love and trust

But know that it's worth it in the end

Because my friendship has no other cost

With that, don't mix up favor and demand

Take without giving, you will be banned

 

This one, French-speaking people should understand. The title is the name of the myth at the origin of the sheep metaphor.

Moutons de Panurge

 

 

Les prétendus maîtres poussent leurs beuglements,

Leurs élèves les vénèrent aveuglément;

Aucun d'eux ne croit que son maître ment,

Puisque l'opinion suit l'enseignement.

 

Ne sachant pas vraiment mieux, on les urge

A devenir des moutons de Panurge.

Ainsi, les vraies causes d'une récession

Peuvent subsister, bloquant toute concession;

 

Mais quand l'on pense, les certitudes fléchissent,

La lumière vient à ceux qui réfléchissent.

 

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

I have a couple poems related to this weeks topic of the moon/the night. Here they are ordered from my personal favorite to my least favorite.

 

"A Glossy Night"

 

 

I lay my cheek down upon frost bitten glass,
The clouds up above contorted in sinister smiles,
Glimmering moonlight from their watery whisps,
As its source stares with an ominous aura.

A purple sky for a blood-red Moon,
Twinkling stars for a dying street lamp,
And a wary nature for my blistering soul,
Which is purged up and out of me in horrid relief,
Letting go of all that makes me me;
Cold and miserable,
Dead and alive,
Unsure, but determined for failure.

I enter a new world of space and possibility,
Yet up above this shimmering Orb fights off the night,
Holding back all of the howling and calls,
Fighting and bleeding,
Uncertainty if I will lose my very life.

It breathes out ether,
Filling my lungs with pain, hope, death, and love,
Leaving me a shell of my former self,
Yet I will forever cherish every haunting breath.

I lie,
I faint,
I breathe,

I exhale warm vapor,
Fogging up the forgotten window pane,
As I pass away into Peaceful slumber.

 

 

 

"Night"

 

 

There is a coolness in the air.
All the earth fades to grey.
But there is a kind of beauty there
As the stars begin to play
Amongst a field of darkness and the unknown
As I sit here, alone.
The moon glows eerily above
Reflecting the sun's rays,
Yet it is somehow more wondrous;
Independent from the day.
To others this is scary, but to me it seems
When I look into the night sky, it is like a dream.

 

 

 

"Night II" (a cinquain)

 

 

The dark,
Enchanting world;
Then soft whispering grass,
The crisp Autumn night air, surrounds
My soul.

 

 

 

"Luna" (not directly related to MLP)

 

 

An eerie glow
Through the drifting fog,
Above the meadow and the bog.
The enchanting guardian of the night
Which brings to many quite a fright.
A howling fills the chilly air
from beasts and creatures everywhere,
Praising the glory of the goddess Luna;
The entrancing stare of the moon.

 

 

[Technicolour Dream (Sunny) 38]

Well, I tried to write about the moon, and instead I got side tracked. (My internet died for a whole 2 days) But I did find an old note book with a few poems in it. Here is one of the poems on it. (I apologize it is not related to the moon  )

 

 

 

Noise, a garden, a well, and the void

--------------------------------------

 

Noise, the vibrations in my hands and feet, constant neural stimulus.

A garden, my isolation, it was best that way.

A well, my falling vision, down which i jumped.

Void, null, the inevitable apotheosis of noise.

 

We look inwards and never pull away.

But for the ones who pull away,

noise awaits a listening ear,

the garden awaits the hungry eyes,

the well awaits the heavy of heart,

as the void continues to consume.

 

For all we are,

we are noise.

For all we once were,

we are noise.

For all we create,

we created the void.

 

(yes I made the image myself)

 

 

This one was mostly about the sensations I first experienced as I was just introducing myself to harsh noise. The very first artist I delved into was Merzbow.

Edited June 11, 2013 by Technicolour Dream (Sunny)

[CamRad18 337]

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT (sort of)

 

Hey guys,

 

I know that I've been almost nonexistent on this thread for a little while now. As lord of this miniature plane, I know such behavior is unacceptable. However, I have a good excuse:

 

FINALS

 

Seriously, I've been studying, doing study guides, and writing papers for the last week or two. As of late the work load has been a little too heavy for brony stuff. I haven't even had time to write a poem! (sad face)

 

Before I go, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for helping to get this thread off the ground. My (quite lofty) goal is to get poetry a separate section on mlpforums (similar to the fan fiction section) and that's only possible with the support of a great poetry-loving community.

 

Regards, best wishes, and all that jazz,

 

CamRad18

Edited June 16, 2013 by CamRad18

[CamRad18 337]

I already posted this one on the first page, but it fits so nicely with the theme (and I haven't had time to write another).

 

Have some mildly reposted Luna

 

 

Midnight's Burden 

 

Each night I raise failure;

beauty, scarred.

My artwork corrupted;

essence, marred.

 

My Magnum Opus;

night’s gem, dusk’s pearl.

a former prison;

greed’s wings, unfurled.

 

Black canvas flaunts ego;

power, abused.

The dreamer’s haven;

sanctum, misused.

 

Come dawn I snuff exile;

choices, bold.

My signature piece;

distant, cold.

 

Edited June 12, 2013 by CamRad18

[Technicolour Dream (Sunny) 38]

I wrote this originally as a song but I've converted it into a poem format. (STILL NOT ABOUT THE MOOOOOOON)

 

 

 

 

Appendicitis

-------------

 

The air feels elastic,

the bed is a river.

And my lungs feel just like a balloon.

 

My fever is skittish,

and my face is a mask.

The monitors won't stop their beeping.

 

My tears burn like lava,

though my eyes are dry.

Though my have eyes have been dry for a while.

 

My body is aching,

and I need some rest.

The hospital is open for me.

 

You wrote me a letter,

asking how I feel.

And I replied with a sigh.

 

We tend to our sick and,

we care for the poor.

But we can't even care for ourselves.

 

Now the air may be thinning,

but my conscience is clear.

And I don't regret a thing.

 

Now that the air's thinning,

my consciousness slips.

The anesthesia is knocking me down.

 

I wake up days later,

unable to move.

My stomach is empty and churning.

 

I feel more sick,

than I did before.

Where are my friends now?

 

 

It's based on the 2 months I spent in the hospital in 6th grade when I got appendicitis. I remember my best friend (whom later died the next year to leukemia) told me she'd be there when I woke up from the surgery. When I did wake up, there was nobody, not even a nurse or my parents. First thing I did was cry for a while and then I tried to get out of the bed and ended up falling on my face and busting my nose.

 

 

 

 

 

[Feather Spiral 1,892]

Lemme try my hand at improvising about the moon...

I'm thinking about the time when I went to summer camp in Spain. Because of an accident, we had spent the night at a nearby campsite, and some of us (including myself) had slept out in the open.

Turned out more general than just the moon, actually. But it's more present as you progress, at least that's how I tried to do it.

 

 

 

Stargazing Camper

 

Touch, smell, sound, sight

I surrender all to the embrace

Soothing blanket of starlight

A lullaby sweeping the place

 

Peaceful island in flowery field

Where life should have been tough

A cold wind is our only shield

To me, it is protection enough

 

The darkness has been progressing

Its mystery suppressed by hers

The breeze murmurs his blessing

Among the rustling and chirps

 

Her beaming form is a spell

Others like me would resist

But I give in, she is too swell

The first lover I truly kissed

 

Gazing up at the lunar face

And bathing in her pale light

I fall to my dreams in grace

While she whispers "sleep tight"

 

Dreamer with a Quill

 

[Beyonder 46]

I'm a very avid poet, but most of my poetic thought processes happen outside of a written means of existence.

 

The few that I've taken the time to write are definitely of a very dark, somber color, though.

 

I might post a couple of 'em.

 

Edit:

 

I see that there's a topic. Pretty cool idea. I might just try my hand at it.

Edited June 16, 2013 by Beyonder

[Technicolour Dream (Sunny) 38]

I'm a very avid poet, but most of my poetic thought processes happen outside of a written means of existence.

 

The few that I've taken the time to write are definitely of a very dark, somber color, though.

 

I might post a couple of 'em.

 

Edit:

 

I see that there's a topic. Pretty cool idea. I might just try my hand at it.

Go for it lad, the darker portions of our souls must be expressed so as not to control every aspect of our waking lives. Bittersweet is better than sour.

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

Unfortunately, the OP and I both seem busy, but I'm gonna try to keep this place more active. For the next weekly prompt, I'd like to propose that we all right a similar form, rather than a theme. One of my favorites is the Cinquain, introduced by Adelaide Crapsey. I propose we do that for this next week; each writing two or three because they're very short.

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinquain

 

However, for the last subject, I have a cinquain collection about the seasons that suits it well. Don't worry, I'll post new ones for this upcoming week later.

 

 

"Winter"
Silent
I gaze out at
The falling snow and rain
Beyond the frosty windowpane.
Winter.

"Spring"
Serene,
The earth is green
As plants begin to sprout
While small creatures scurry about.
Springtime.

"Summer" (Yes, the last line is a reference to Phineas and Ferb)
"School's out!"
The children shout
And run around and play
It's time for us to seize the day.
Summer.

"Autumn"
Now all
Leaves gently fall,
The air fills with a chill
And all the schools begin to fill.
Autumn.

 

 

 

Also, on my poetry blog entry for those poems, I found a poem I made up on the fly in response to a nice comment. I thought I'd share that too.

 

 

Oh, yes, I have quite the penchant for rhyme,

And I use rhyming couplets all of the time,

But I tried once to write some sonnets for class,

And learned to respect Shakespeare very fast.

My rhymes, combined with the traditional form,

Ten syllables with meter like in "transform",

Made it quite the difficult feat

So eventually I did retreat

To write other forms and even free verse

 Because being a Shakespeare just made me worse.

I like my usual form better as well,

And to say such nice things to me really is swell.

Such kind words mean a lot to me;

Knowing folks enjoy my poetry.

 

 

 

[Nerdy Luigi 2,065]

I have written about 10-15 pieces of poetry.

 

One of my best, and also my first.

 

 

The world is falling apart.

 

We all die from warfare.

 

Derived from dishonesty.

 

Honor is a killer.

 

Never trust people with your

 

life. They will mur-

 

der. That is nature, corrupted in all ways, from apocalyptic
fib.

 

Another one of my best: (My seventh written)

 

 

My love, please pity me. Just for,

 

my own emotional

 

instability. Please, I beg.

 

For you're the light at the end.

 

You are the reason I'm alive.

 

Can't you keep me there? please,

 

I'm desperate for your sweet, life-saving affection of me. Please, I
beg.

Edited June 26, 2013 by Rainbow P.F. Sparkle

[Hemlock_Conium 46]

I wrote a Snowdrop poem, if anyone gives half of a ponytail.

 

 

I wish, I pray, I hope, I dream,
To do something right, just one little thing.
I'm a blind little bird with broken wings
And a lack of a voice, and no song to sing

The others they say I can't do anything right,
But can they hear the twinkles of the silk night?
I'm so close to giving up this one-sided fight,
But I'll wish, hope, pray, and dream with all my might

I'm a blind little bird with broken wings
And a lack of a voice, but I've a song to sing

I've listened to twinkles,
Heard the story of sparks
But I still don't know my special mark
And I cherish the night's forgiving dark
Since that's all I've ever known

I'm a blind little bird with broken wings
But a strong voice and a song to sing

I've crafted my own twinkles,
And they're sonorous, you see?
Each and every one was made by me,
Year after year, from winter we flee, but
the winters are soft, now...

I'm a blind little bird with mended wings,
a strong voice, a song to sing,
and twinkles to guide me home at night,
and although I still don't have my sight,
I've finally, FINALLY done something right

 

 

It's pretty weak, not one of my best filks. 

 

(I'm late to the seasons party darnit)

Edited June 26, 2013 by Vodka_Mutini

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

I have written about 10-15 pieces of poetry.

 

One of my best, and also my first.

 

The world is falling apart.

We all die from warfare.

Derived from dishonesty.

Honor is a killer.

Never trust people with your

life. They will mur-

der. That is nature, corrupted in all ways, from apocalyptic fib.

 

Another one of my best: (My seventh written)

 

My love, please pity me. Just for,

my own emotional

instability. Please, I beg.

For you're the light at the end.

You are the reason I'm alive.

Can't you keep me there? please,

I'm desperate for your sweet, life-saving affection of me. Please, I beg.

Would you mind putting all of your actual poems in spoilers please? It conserves space and makes it easier to browse the thread.

[Lightning Dancer 28]

Here's an original haiku I wrote! 

 

 

 

 It Blooms A New Warmth

Tulips Come Out Of Hiding

    Animals Wake Now

 

   Things Grow Dry and Hot

No School For Some People

 The World Becomes Parched

 

    A Land Of Color

Tree's Bare A New Bright Tone

  The Leaves Start To Drift

 

    

    A White Beauty Comes

Drifting Leaves Exchange With Snow

    The Cycle Repeats

 

 

 

 

 

[Nerdy Luigi 2,065]

Would you mind putting all of your actual poems in spoilers please? It conserves space and makes it easier to browse the thread.

I just fixed it, kinda sorry about that, but I was trying to figure the spolier thing out when I had posted that. Well at least thanks for telling me that so I could fix it.

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

I wanna get more requests here:

http://mlpforums.com/topic/51190-mlp-poem-requests-including-ocs/?hl=poetry+request

 

So I thought I'd post it here in addition to my poems for this week. Here are two cinquains from very important moments in my life.

 

 

 

 

"Love"
Love burns
Like a wildfire
Consuming lovers' hearts.
Know beauty as great as the finest art
And love.

"A Crash"
A crash
Scent of sulfur
The smell of gasoline
The sight of glass mixed with my red blood
I scream

 

 

 

[Oddgob 56]

There is nothing here.

Edited April 15, 2017 by Oddgob

[CamRad18 337]

Hey guys, just a quick reminder to any newbies who might show up...

 

Theme of the week is NOT mandatory. Write whatever the hay you want and post it. As long as it's legit (a.k.a. you actually put effort into it) then it's perfectly welcome here. 

 

--------------------

 

My submission today comes in two forms; non-cinquain and cinquain.

 

Non-cinquain

 

 

 

The clock on the wall

is quite shifty indeed.

 

He goes back on his promises

forth on his greed.

 

He’ll yell out the hour

then, just as you turn.

 

The minutes will crumble,

The seconds will burn.

 

 

cinquain

 

 

The clock

Selfish and cruel

A prank where you’re the fool

Addictive to submissive

tick tock

 

 

Edited July 16, 2013 by CamRad18

[Feather Spiral 1,892]

My attempt at a cinquain, I think you'll recognize who I'm referring to.

 

 

Trust me

Come fly with me

To pick up the pieces

Turn devil to princess

Maelstrom

 

 

Theme of the week is NOT mandatory. Write whatever the hay you want and post it.

With that said, it does inspire people sometimes. I wouldn't have thought of writing poetry about my night at the campsite, and later a cinquain on Viscra, if I hadn't seen the weekly themes. Frankly, I'm pretty proud of the former. Edited July 19, 2013 by Feather Spiral

[Slaigh 118]

As soon as I saw "Butterfly Cinquain" I knew exactly what I had to write about!

 

 

 

Butterflies

I fell.

This place below,

Beautiful in design.

So much to explore! So many..

Wonders.

Creatures I've only wished to see,

Now here to befriend me,

And give me a

New Home.

 

 

 

~yay

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

Well this thing goes inactive a lot, so why not contribute now? I've been in a creative slump for a while, and recently I finally managed to write a new poem. It's not very good compared to a lot of my work, but I figured I'd post it anyway. Fair warning, it's a sad one.

 

"The Weeping Tree"

 

 

 

 

I crawl beneath The Weeping Tree

When life is dark and Blue,

I curl my broken, bending knees,

Knowing not what I can do.

 

My eyes fixed in the distance,

As this dead tree hangs above.

I think of my blank future,

And the Failure that is Love.

 

I ponder all my tired thoughts

That man can never know,

Still under this old, ancient tree,

'Neath this proud, old weary willow.

 

My mind is blank and empty;

Not a single tear I shed,

But inside I'm overcome deep down

With an overwhelming dread.

 

Can I live my life like this?

I wonder, can it be?

I look up at the broken boughs

Of the sad, old Weeping Tree.

 

A thought inside consumes me,

And I know just what to do,

But I stood beneath the Weeping Tree,

For a minute, maybe two.

 

My heart is full of Kindness;

This world is pain and death,

So I sit beneath The Weeping Tree

And breathe a slow, Last breath.

 

 

 

 

Hey guys, I have an idea that can help unite us as brony poets, while also giving us a challenging bit of practice. We should do bouts-rimés. What is a bouts-rimés, you ask? Basically two poets write out lists of words with some kind of rhyme scheme (they need not all rhyme, nor do they have to be couplets or anything), and then they exchange the lists. Each poet must then write a poem around the other poet's list with the words at the end of each line. It's a fun activity I've done before, and I think we should do that as a theme of the week. What do you think?

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bouts-Rim%C3%A9s

 

@@CamRad18,

Edited July 20, 2013 by Mellon Collie