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Author Topic: Poetry Prompts  (Read 49881 times)

birdy51

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #150 on: December 06, 2016, 04:42:42 am »

Rook, king, queen, and knight,
With the good bishop, they rise.
But only pawns fight.
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Tomasque

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #151 on: December 06, 2016, 12:15:19 pm »

Well, I've been reading The King in Yellow lately, so my poem is based off one of the "mini-stories" within the Prophet's Paradise section. It is The Green Room:

The powdered Clown was sitting on his chair.
He turned to his mirror and asked,
"If it is true that to be fair
is to be beautiful, don't none compare
with me within my pallid mask?"

"Who can?" I asked Death, next to me, to learn
the truth of this from his reply:
"Who can to me? Paler am I."
"You are beautiful," said the Clown, then turned
away from his mirror and sighed.
« Last Edit: December 15, 2016, 02:40:00 pm by Tomasque »
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Urist Mc Dwarf

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #152 on: December 07, 2016, 04:41:08 pm »

Squares white and black
Bodies to fill them they not lack
Pawn and rook and leaping knight
Endlessly clash and fight
But as the game goes on and on
More and more of the pieces are gone
And for what do they fight?
They're in the same box at the end of the night

For tomorrow: A tool

Tomasque

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #153 on: December 07, 2016, 04:54:56 pm »

Squares white and black
Bodies to fill them they not lack
Pawn and rook and leaping knight
Endlessly clash and fight
But as the game goes on and on
More and more of the pieces are gone
And for what do they fight?
They're in the same box at the end of the night

For tomorrow: A tool
The syllable count is rough, but the ending is great!  :)
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Urist Mc Dwarf

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #154 on: December 08, 2016, 05:25:30 pm »

Many thanks.

TD1

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #155 on: December 15, 2016, 01:04:50 pm »

Back in business! Whoo. Okay... I have a lot to catch up with.
Spoiler (click to show/hide)
I really liked the message of the above, Urist.

Two strangers help each other on the road:

Dark and Light meet
In the woodland,
Both unsafe and
Neither knowing.

Darkness gives his
Hand. The rotten
Wood collapses.
Death approaches.

Lightness gives her
Hand. The growing
Wood is breathing.
Death is coming.

Dark gives hand, and
Light accepts it.
Both together;
Death is nowhere.
----

Chess:

Chivalry on a board.
The King protects the pawns,
The Queen is ready to defend
Against the marshalled might of wrong.

Wrong. King is saved by pawns
Who throw their flesh between
Imagined thrusts and parries.
The mind which watches all
Enjoys it, the macabre, the massacre.

The Queen does not defend, but sends
Herself into the fray, Angel of Death
Manoeuvring through the ranks,
Killing the loyal knight, honour-bound rooks.

Battle on a Board, the Master is not bored,
He revels in the flesh that is not flesh.
World falls away. All the world's terrors,
Made of wood, are here. And they will pay.

A poem based off of a story:

(Inspired by Beren and Luthien)

The wind blown Hemlock brings
The scent of bubbling springs,
Though many years have passed
Without you near, my life's repast.
Give me your hand of lily-white,
The mystery of your hair
And I will live, if living is to fight
To see your heart, and to be there.

I may be but a man, and you an elf
Who ne'er grows old, nor has bad health
But when the wind blows in the Hemlock sheaves
I hear your voice, the voice of Autumn leaves,
And in their cries, I see your eyes.
Though death may come for me, I'll give my hand
Nevertheless to one who never dies
With but one wish, and one demand.

Love me through all the years to come,
But when I am the moon and not the sun
Remember me as I am now, my hand
Dipped in the brook where nearby stand
Hemlock sheaves and the leaves,
The leaves I hear you in,
An elf with gold-embroidered sleeves.
Ah! Since when was to love a sin?
---
A tool:

Most work is simple as the day,
You do it fast and get your pay.
You put in work and get out gold,
And in this way you soon grow old.

But find a trusty tool to use
Along the paths of your abuse
And you will find that you can smile
Though pain may visit every mile.

Also, I just watched phantom of the opera. It has a scene in it reminiscent of the Masquerade poem I did for a prompt a page or so back: Most notably after 3:00.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I really like this. I have a slight issue with using pale as two syllables, but it's small.

For tomorrow: Juletide, Christmas, Winter. You get the idea. Something seasonal.
« Last Edit: December 15, 2016, 01:08:46 pm by Th4DwArfY1 »
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Tomasque

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #156 on: December 15, 2016, 02:39:32 pm »

I changed "pale" to "pallid" later, in my notes. I forgot to change it online, so thanks for reminding me.

 Also, welcome back! Do you have time for Storm again?
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Urist Mc Dwarf

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #157 on: December 19, 2016, 04:45:44 pm »

Winter wind
Blowing strong
Outside my house
It's been blowing long

The fire is glowing
Even as the snow
Builds up even higher
I'm not feeling low

Because winter's my
Favorite season
December the best month
It's the time for leaving

And finding new warmth

Tomasque

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #158 on: December 31, 2016, 01:44:02 pm »

 This needs more poetry. I'll add some later.
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TD1

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #159 on: December 31, 2016, 02:00:20 pm »

Indeed it does. I spoke too soon unfortunately in saying I was free(edited this from three. Seriously, me?). I am currently 11 pages into an essay, but once that's wrapped up I'll rejig it, don't worry.
« Last Edit: January 08, 2017, 02:55:02 pm by Th4DwArfY1 »
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birdy51

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #160 on: January 05, 2017, 12:06:44 pm »

The yuletide is gone,
Her evergreen branches, fade.
Winter doth remain.
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George_Chickens

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #161 on: January 05, 2017, 12:49:15 pm »

Darkness creeps across the land
The midnight sausage is in your hand
A pain in the stomach, boiling blood
Stool sprays free, like flowing mud
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TD1

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #162 on: January 06, 2017, 06:47:25 pm »

Christmas is here.
There are candles.
Family is visiting,
Many relatives.

They bring their gifts
Of tin and foil
For our delight
This Christmas morn.

One was born on this day
Many years ago.
He stood in a manger
And greeted every stranger.

Then when they left,
He asked his mum
If he could change his birthday
To some time other
Than Christmas day,
For who would want two
Celebrations in one?

Okay, that was terrible. Shoot me :P

For tomorrow:a scene from a book/movie which stuck with you.
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TD1

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #163 on: January 08, 2017, 10:56:22 am »

The oceans crash tempestuous,
The mountains pierce the skies
And all is lost, all feeling gone
But man's impassioned eyes.
Rage, rage against the falling stone,
The hurdles thrown and broken bone.
Take hold the system that's in place
And raise the master race.

There is magic here, yet none care
To sieve the light from darkness,
Harness all the mountain rage
Dichotomy of truth and song
To last until another age.
*
She died.
*
We must care for the ones who work
Who toil in mine, who work the vine
Who clean the house. The separation
Of idea from reality, the magic
Of love embodied individually
Within each person.
I was wrong. I was wrong.

The magic raises storms of death
And power kills the man.
And yet...and yet, what curses
Yet may bless, may raise a flower
In its stead and grant us life.
Love is the power we must grow
Inside our hearts, and that then sow.

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For tomorrow: Winter beauty.
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birdy51

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Re: Poetry Prompts
« Reply #164 on: January 09, 2017, 10:27:40 pm »

Fractured echoes scream.
Reality is broken.
Give me back my warmth.

---

Comes from a nifty concept in a game called Exit Fate, where the game explores a few 'What if' scenarios where some of the main characters choose to take a different course of action. Moments where certain characters respond competently turn out to be horrible, horrible decisions and said characters invariably end up dead for their mistake.
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