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Author Topic: The Poetry Thread  (Read 27610 times)

Th4DwArfY1

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The Poetry Thread
« on: August 06, 2014, 03:35:47 pm »

What? Why, yes, I know this thread ain't going to be popular. Still, nice to have it lying around, no?

So, this thread is to do with all things poetical. (And as of Reply 155, lyrics as well, it would seem!) Want help writing a poem? Ask here. Written one? Post it here. Want to discuss one? Post it here. Have a favourite one? Post i....

You get the picture. To start off, I'll post my favourite poem: The Listeners, by Walter de la Mare.

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If posting a favourite/favoured poem, giving the author would help me to accredit it properly.

All poems so far posted. Those written by the poster will be noted with a "Written by himselfthemself"(Because I realised the gender problem writing "himself" poses):

Edmus
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Azkanan
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Th4DwArfY1
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I post too much, so if you want to see anything else I post, you'll have to read on through. I'm too lazy to put it all here :/
T-Mick
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Fabulous death bringer
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Arx:
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Cmega3:
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Talvieno:
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Audioworm333
Vlob:
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Urist Mc Dwarf:
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Tiruin:
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sjm9876:
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Mastahcheese:
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Silthuri:
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Loam:
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Apiks:
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Tomasque:
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NRDL:
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« Last Edit: November 15, 2017, 08:29:23 am by Th4DwArfY1 »
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Poetry Thread

Edmus

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Re: The Poem Thread
« Reply #1 on: August 06, 2014, 05:24:50 pm »

Here is my nature poem from english.
(to be read aloud in a southern accent)

Y'all ain't never seen
Such nature as in the places I've been

Babbling brooks,
and flittering finches
Hidden nooks
and noble beeches

So shut y'all face hole.
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Azkanan

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Re: The Poem Thread
« Reply #2 on: August 07, 2014, 04:20:34 am »

"A dwarf, a dwarf,
My kingdom for a dwarf!"
Cried the lord of the high dusty hall,
Little did he know though, this lord of the high dusty hall,
That a coarse dwarf called Porf lived in the high dusty hall,
Below the throne with a crone called Eeborf.
"The king," said Eeborf, "Calls for dwarf,
You should call all the dwarfs who built the high dusty hall."

Porf wrinkled his nose like crushed in pantyhose,
His beard like black bows and cheeks of rose.
"I'll call the dwarfs," said Porf, "and call the lord of the high dusty hall."

So Porf climbed to the roof with mountain goat hoofs
and from a horn was borne a call across the lands of Gorn,
"THE KING!" HE CALLED, "THE KING CALLS FOR A DWARF!
I AM PORF THE DWARF WHO LIVES UNDER THE HIGH DUSTY HALL,
UNDER THE THRONE WITH A CRONE CALLED EEBORF,
I CALL ALL DWARVES IN THE LANDS OF GORN,
TO COME TO THE HIGH DUSTY HALL TO ANSWER THE CALL!"

And in the high dusty hall sat the king of Gorn,
And much did his eyes not bore as Porf the Dwarf
and Eeborf the crone walked in alone.
"My king," kneeled Porf the Dwarf in front of the throne,
"I am torn and forlorn," he said with a tear of lead,
"I am the last dwarf, my kin are all dead."
« Last Edit: August 07, 2014, 04:22:17 am by Azkanan »
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poem Thread
« Reply #3 on: August 07, 2014, 09:03:03 am »

XD

Liked that one. Shakespeare would be proud!

Here's one of mine:

When in your heart a gloom descends
And all seems black and dead,
Forget just what that thing portends
For this is what is said:

“Ah, music, music of my soul
Be calm, be still, be pure!
No grievances or pettiness-
My heart will not abjure.”

Take not the bristle of a thorn
And pin it in your flesh.
Take not the sting of living hell
And seal it in your breast.

Just harken, harken, hear my call
That through the darkness comes,
Don’t leave, don’t die, don’t fall
Live here where life and glory runs...

What’s this? The heart that beats is weak?
Just what is it you seek?
Some earthly gain? An end to pain?
Mayhap a shelter from the rain?

Death is no shelter. Death is no refuge.
If life is made of chains,
Then they are holding you aloft-
Go not where He in Evil reigns.

“Ah, music, music of my soul
Be calm, be still, be pure!
No grievances or pettiness-
My heart will not abjure.”

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T-Mick

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #4 on: August 08, 2014, 10:44:31 am »

This little excerpt is from "The Ballad of the White Horse". It's an epic ballad, detailing King Alfred's victory over the Danes at the Battle of Ethandune. It is highly legendary in nature, in the sense that many supernatural elements contribute to the forces on both sides. In this part, the Blessed Virgin gives a prophesy to King Alfred, which turns out to not be what he was expecting.

The gates of heaven are lightly locked,
We do not guard our gold,
Men may uproot where worlds begin,
Or read the name of the nameless sin;
But if he fail or if he win
To no good man is told.

The men of the East may spell the stars,
And times and triumphs mark,
But the men signed of the cross of Christ
Go gaily in the dark. . .

The wise men know what wicked things
Are written on the sky,
They trim sad lamps, they touch sad strings,
Hearing the heavy purple wings,
Where the forgotten seraph kings
Still plot how God shall die. . .

But you and all the kind of Christ
Are ignorant and brave,
And you have wars you hardly win
And souls you hardly save.

I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher.

Night shall be thrice night over you,
And heaven an iron cope.
Do you have joy without a cause,
Yea, faith without a hope?
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Fabulous death bringer

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #5 on: August 08, 2014, 11:21:20 am »

My peom
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My favorite peom: Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #6 on: August 08, 2014, 11:34:26 am »

The mountains rose as jagged teeth
Above the land my fathers knew.
The rivers ran in frothing fonts
And all I saw was good and true.

The vales were green and emerald,
The sea was slate grey and free
And all the while the trees arose
And spread their leafy canopy.

The forests rolled from shore to shore
And boats abounded on the waves.
There birds of green and vibrant red
Were in the scree and hollow caves.

I wish to wander longer there
And see the land my fathers knew.
I want to know the yellow flowers
And see their golden coloured hue.
I wish to look upon the scene
Where all my kin have ever been,
I wish that I could breathe that air,
That lingers there, fresh and fair.
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Doomblade187

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #7 on: August 08, 2014, 11:56:33 am »

POSTING TO WATCH THIS THREAD BECAUSE COOL POETRY!!!

That will be all.
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Arx

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #8 on: August 09, 2014, 04:59:57 am »

Behold from the past, a post arises;
Ancient and pow'rful, carried through ages
The post of warding, waiting, watching;
Cried by the masses, mindful of prizes:

Posting to watch.
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #9 on: August 09, 2014, 07:12:18 pm »

The dogs of war are nigh, are nigh
The horns of Satan ring.
The dogs of war are baying death
The Heralds praise the king.

Of carven throne, of yellow bone,
The king of death and war.
The heralds praise his strength of arms,
Which I myself abhor.

The gongs all sound the close of day,
The gates are closing fast.
The dead no longer need our fires,
Nor love to take repast.

You see them on the battlement,
You see them on the ground,
You hear their bays and calls
And fear that dreaded sound.

Some call them living men, the fools
That see such men wreak woe.
They say that they are men in suits
Made hard to kill their foe.

I care not, nor heed not, these words
For they have brought me pain.
You see them on the battlement?
Their strength seems not to wane.

For the dogs of war are nigh, are nigh,
And night is closing in.
So seal the gate, so seal the gate,
And then absolve our sin.

The blast of war has sounded now,
The gates are manned by Beasts,
And I must wander down the way
Where life and darkness meets.

The dogs of war are nigh, are nigh
The horns of Satan ring.
The dogs of war are baying death
The Heralds praise their king.
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #10 on: August 10, 2014, 09:56:19 am »

My thread.

I can double post if I want :P

Ilyenor and Alveron

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« Last Edit: August 10, 2014, 03:43:45 pm by Th4DwArfY1 »
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Caroline

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #11 on: August 10, 2014, 03:42:23 pm »

One of my personal favorites, by Emily Dickinson IIRC

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops- at all.

And sweetest in the Gale is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea
Yet never, in Extremity
It asked a crumb of me.

Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #12 on: August 10, 2014, 04:23:42 pm »

Ah, Emily Dickinson. That's a very nice poem by her, here's one I like:

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Hemlocks burn—
How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder
By the Wizard Sun—

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet
Till the Ball is full—
Have I the lip of the Flamingo
That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows—
Touching all the Grass
With a departing—Sapphire—feature—
As a Duchess passed—

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village
Till the Houses blot
And the odd Flambeau, no men carry
Glimmer on the Street—

How it is Night—in Nest and Kennel—
And where was the Wood—
Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing
Into Solitude—

These are the Visions flitted Guido—
Titian—never told—
Domenichino dropped his pencil—
Paralyzed, with Gold—

The last stanza is just lovely.
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Talvieno

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #13 on: August 12, 2014, 07:45:43 pm »

I have a poem I wrote a while back... DF-related. I guess I might as well.

http://goo.gl/qcO3T
Tim Denee illustrated a picture for it (in Tiny Pirate's "Getting Started With Dwarf Fortress" book):
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And then I guess there's my tumblr, which I haven't updated in... forever. Talvieno.tumblr.com.

My poetry is very much substandard. :P I'm not good at rhymes or keeping time. I tend to mess up any meter I try to use, too.
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #14 on: August 12, 2014, 08:01:58 pm »

I've read that poem, and there is nothing substandard about it.
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