[Baverel]

women love power, Chaos

[Baverel]

wait for me to find time to read what u posted, orfantal! hehehe

oh, n farad's comments don' count, he's just a creep

[Baverel]

*looks around* who you callin mighty? heheheh

twice my age...at least.....well....umm..it's not THAT bad is it.... ...look at farad for example...
ok ok, sorry guys u kno i'm just being stupid (not sth hard at my age eh? )

[Aimless]

I remember one sleepless night when I spent three agonising sleepless hours trying to remember what the clinical term for memory-loss was. I ended up forgetting the word "insomnia" instead

[Orfantal]

Sorry Bavvy baby

had my laptop nicked and have been busy at work, and now I'm being distracted by the footie. But I'll do my best.

[Orfantal]

Bav - glad you liked the improements to Flights of Fancy. As to Roundabout it seemed a good idea at the time but now seems a bit lame.

Never mind here's another couple:
The Willow

I heard my daughter laugh
last night and turned glancing
at her so poised and elegant.
A willow, tall and graceful,
glowing in the spring of life,
not bowed or bent by any breeze.
My breath caught a moment as
I was clasped in the gentle grip
of warm contented pride.
But still a single tear of cool
regret tiptoed it’s silent path past
the dimpled hillock of my smile,
remembering a bounding breathless
child that used to sit upon my knee.

My Late Demise

I want my death to arrive like a
Virgin train, shuffling shame-faced
into station, from a journey more
stationary than loco motive,
guard glumly apologetic
and morose, glibly muttering of
leaves lain in wait upon the lines.

I’d like it served cold, fast food
gone slow, a rusty rundown car
stalled in the drive through lane,
apoplectic parents weakly
pacifying sullen baying brats.

I’d like it absentmindedly
overdue, a well liked and leafed
library book, long loaned
literally lost and alone,
left out of sight and mind.

I’d like it said a stuttered sentence,
trembling timorously behind tongue
tied teeth, sprayed staccato, saliva
drenched, through clenched jaws,
delays yawning wider into pause.

I’d like it sneaking, an errant schoolboy,
scurrying surreptitiously before the end
of registration, weaving warily in the
ink stained forest of raised desks,
wiping sticky sleep from startled eyes.

O how I hope my death is late,
not me!

[Fist Gamet]

I admit that I like this kind of simple poetry but must confess that I am not much of a critic of poetry but, for what it is worth, it's quite nice.

[Farad]

@ orfantal Troy Story – The Sillyad

[Orfantal]

still more outpourings:

The end of ambition

A butterfly pinned and
writhing, slave of necessity
in this shadowed crypt where
ambition lies buried, broken
on the wheel of disappointment.
The sharp and acrid tang of
bitterness pervades the pall
of gloom and failure rises like
burning bile in an
unrelenting flood.

Tear the jagged blade free
and exhume the rancid shell.
Slough off corrupted flesh and
breathe in new life, infuse
enthusiasm and claw through
the packed earth to freedom.

For failure of ambition breeds
failure in everything like a heaving
mass of maggots creating the
illusion of life in a rotting corpse.


Idolatry

I see my love each evening
at six, and she smiles
coquettish, an alabaster vision
of perfection I once heard
someone call her. She says
she’ll see us all tomorrow
but I know it’s me she means,
it’s just that she’s shy and
doesn’t like to make it plain.
I love the way she smiles, coyly,
even though she talks about such
sad things. She’s brave and
resolute and I think that makes
me like her even more.

I’ve noticed that she looks a
little pale lately, a gentle tremor
in the fingertips, some minor upset
and I guess that might be why
she hasn’t mentioned my letters.
I’ll just have to teach her
good manners when I see her,
I’m sure she’ll understand.

I wandered in her house last
week, picked up a few keepsakes.
It’s always handy to know the
layout and security’s a joke, you’d
think a star would know better.
It doesn’t matter as we’ll be
together soon, she may argue at
first but she’ll come round,
they always do in the end, and
when she’s taken me into
her, I’ll reverse the roles
and take her into me
and then we’ll be complete.

That reminds me, I’ll need to
make room so I’d better clear
the last one out of the freezer.



By the way this one's a joke - do you get it?
Roundabout

The vicious circle turns,
a wheel of thought unique.
The tired tread of
discarded somnambulists
in pointless perambulation,
around the moon’s perimeter.
Sir, come for enslavement,
ready us for measurement.
I waltz ermine clad
a spin, sigh calling,
come past me in my dream.
Playtime dishevelled,
learned by rota,
bled by your example
or bitten by discussion.
So I laugh inside and pay
you with this crooked coin.

[Orfantal]

why not - I like chips, low fat oven variety of course.

[Orfantal]

Bav - what manierism?

Ugly is not a word I would associate with you. I am sure that the spiritual and intellectual beauty we see you demonstrating here on the forum is matched by a similar physical beauty.

ps was that a nice or nasty or coy or angry or neutral glance. I couldn't see - I was hiding behind my hand.

[Baverel]

get a poetry thread in the discussions forum orfantal!!!!! oh hood...

[Baverel]

Dancers all fall over
in a sickening piruet

Humiliation can flower
with twisted petals of hate

Steps will be forgotten
spontanious hateful ballet


Movememnt with no sound
Struggle against a song

With no one to guide me
will my steps go wrong?


Tired dancers on a battered stage
their breathing loud and fast

They ask themselves a question
for how long will this dance last?



all comments welcome...

[Aimless]

Okay, I'm back, what've I missed? (apart from more Goth poetry)

[Baverel]

well...not soon i'm afraid..i mean, i could post sth old, but i don't really have time to write anything these days...

besides...my comp is crashing...the mouse just crashed, so i'm stuck in this window writing this sh*t so i hope you lot won't or won't mind reading it damn.....went to lichen today....twas amazing, meaning as in damn beautiful....might get a topic on architecture actually, but dunno where...fatasy art? damn, not quite the right place eh?

[Apsalar]

*lurk*

Hi. I'm Aps and I'm an...damn that's been overdone. I must find a new writer. I'm thinking of slowly...oozing...my way onto the writing board and I figured I start somewhere eventually. But until then I decided to compose a poem. After much deliberation and opening and closing of windows I have produced something that isn't complete tripe. It's the next best thing. I'm not sure what that is though. I must warn you. I talk a lot whn I'm nervous. It's the only time that my mouth gets going. Saves me from thinking.
Yes well um...yeah
-------------------------------------
Perched upon a single blade of grass
A light breeze
A flare of colour
Against a green backdrop
The child takes a cautious step
Then another
The screams of other children
The smell of freshly mowed grass
Another step
Then crouched
Leaning forward
Wide eyed
The sun stares down
Unhindered
Checkered shadows
A chain-link fence
The child reaches out
Slowly
Carefully
Gasps
The butterfly spreads its wings
And flits away

[Orfantal]

Bav - I did say at least twice your age, but definitely less than three times your age, but you're kind to say it's not that bad. I'd say I'm young at heart.

[Orfantal]

well you know I'd hate to disappoint you my little pumpkin. I'll do my best.

[Orfantal]

farad orp'han - thanks, glad you liked them.

Altahn - cheers, liked "The Past Against The Present", nice and dramatic, with feeling.

Bavvy - when are we going to see something from you gal?

[Baverel]

no fantasy theme needed, sod fantasy