Thread: Do you have a poem to share? - Undale (ALL POEMS HERE, PLEASE)
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Hehe, Sprodo, that was quite tricky, but well lined. And oh, welcome to PT.
Btw, folks, where are you all? These halls have been silent for so many days, if not for weeks, and I'm getting sick of this wine I'm drinking all the time, while I wait for ye others to come back for some poetry and bonfire singing. Please do so.
Meanwhile, I've a grand story in progress. At one point, I created the lyric series 'Tales from the realm of secrets and legends', and I'm going to write the next five parts as a one whole lyric/story.
Longer parts than usually, and more storytelling and speaking parts etc.
I've set up an interesting entitle, which is:
'The Mirror of Serpent's Eyes'
It will consist of five parts (as I already said), and I think this will be something interesting.
So, follow the thread, and I'll try to keep you updated.
I'm also going to tend to some of my unfinished stuff later this month.
Oerath Windsoul, thanks. Ive been getting impatient too. Its been some time since I have ben on a journey. I would like some visitors and mischief. I wonder if Gandalf is around. Maybe I will go to the Prancing Pony today to check out Buckland......
Don't bother, Sprodo. Gandalf is not there. I came the whole way to Buckland to see him and he is not here. The halls in Moria are empty and lonely too, so I went on a journey to the Shire.
well hello to everyone, it has indeed been quiet and i myself have been too, lots of brilliant thoughts going through my head kept me away but i'm back! welcome sprodo
Thank you Lady Alyss. This place is nice. Mim, have you heard any news of where Gandalf may be? Or any dark shadows to worry about? I propose to all who wish to join, that we go on a journey somewhere? I was thinking Minis Tirith? Im open to other places too. Its been a while since I left the Shire. My feet are now getting ancy, and my mind restless. Fresh air would do much good for my health. ???
Yes, Minas Tirith sounds good. I have no idea where Gandalf could be. Last I heard he was in the Shire, but I proved that wrong. Maybe he is visiting Tom in the Old Forest. I know he talked about that last time I met him. We could take a trip there maybe?
Some hc Tolkien fans, eh?
You two seem to be much into Middle-Earth, so why don't ye guys write something and share it with us. I would be very glad to read something new and fresh.
Btw guys, what are your opinions and thoughts on 'A Funeral of Evening Rain', since I think it to be one of my best works about love and sadness.
I'll definitely keep writing more works in the same vein, 'cause I find it very relaxing and soothing to write about those subjects. Natural, some would say.
I could not find 'A Funeral of Evening Rain'. Please post the link. Do you think we should write a fanfic?
Try page 10. ^^
You can find all of our past poetic works from page 4 onwards, that was the moment when I joined in, and the moment we activated this thread, I believe.
I am back. really really really really back. Dearest, kindest, wondrous Vir, he told me how to restore me to Planet-Tolkien.
Hello Mim and Sprodo, what a joy to be able to welcome you to our patch of Middle-Earth. It is a nice thread in which exceptional people, for all who come here are in one way or another, where they meet and share thoughts of all sorts, wondrous thoughts of all aspects of the world in which our beloved professor Tolkien himself dwelled for many years as he wove a story unparalled. Feel free to share and enjoy. i am very grateful to the Prince of poems our esteemed O'erath and Lady Alyss, Odette, Brego and the other beloved friends that come here and share.
I went through some of the poems once more or for the first time the other day and was so struck with the glittering or sombre or dark imagery created by words that I took time to jot different word groupings together. I wanted to remember them, perhaps even put them to drawings, paintings when I get the time.
Dear, Leelee, welcome back! I've missed your comments, your elegant words and your kindness to welcome each of the younglings and the way you always rate our works. It has been silent without you, and I'm more than glad to know you're back. Let it be known that great magic is at work in my mind at the moment, and I'm just waiting for the right moment to write (tomorrow, perhaps).
Anyway, if you like to read something that you know me for, check the tenth page, last bits.
Hear the funeral chimes, my friend.
Thank you all for your warm welcomes. Mim, I would like to get a story going with you in a role playing guild. Or maybe we could start one of our own? Anyone would be welcome to join, and all input for a newbie here would be welcome. I have been a little excited by all the Tolkien fans, and I tried to start a few new story lines in a couple different threads. I apologize for any confusion. I will try to keep a story to the proper thread. Sprodo
You can start the thread if you would like I will pitch in.
,I can scarce wait until more magic begin. Let it soar thru the window of the window you have created for us to go thru and we shall pick a spot on a tree limb, or jutting grey rock or grassy knoll listen and ponder and the night and the day shall be as one, so rapt are we in your words.
I am dreadful at role playing games but Ishall give it a try anyway.
How very sad Oèrath. I should like this to be epic, a part two if you will wherein the impossible happens and our hero finds that in fact there is hope, unlooked for. It would be great to see his enemies conquered and he to be set free and to soar to a height he has never even dared dream For it seems to me that once in a while such miracles of deliverance and freedom do come along, thus changing for good the lives of all.,.
Heh, thanks, Leelee, I've always thought that this one and two more of my works deserves a 2nd part, but well, I'd like to inform now that I've written some bits of the first part of these new working titles.
And here's the result of my mind.
Tales From The Realm of Secrets and Legends
The Mirror of Serpent's Eyes
The Legend of Serannah, The Dark Sorceress of Three Moons
I am going to lengthen the whole story a bit, to total of 6 TFTROSAL parts, so the actual series may even continue after this one, who knows. But I'll post this first part in the next few days.
Hello my friends... I was gone for two weeks with scarce but none connection to access this site. Now that I read back at the pieces written in my absence, I do agree with Oerath, It is very lonely on this thread... but it does seem now that we are all able to come back. I do have a poem that I would like to share, but I am having some complications... I wrote it while I was away but the device I wrote it on, in blunt words, crashed. So for the moment I thought I would comment on your works.
Oerath: 'A Funeral of evening of rain' was a great piece. It was very inspiring, I was captivated through the whole thing... The next question to arise is, will you write about what happened before the death? It leaves you to wonder about the real back story... Just a thought.
Sprodo: Welcome to this thread! I very much enjoyed your short piece! It gave me quite a chuckle Feel free to post more!
I wrote a detailed post to the three of you this morning and then just as I went to post it it vanished and I could not retrieve it.
Oerath, have you considered illustrating your poems, even simply like our beloved professor Tolkien, If you could get into a good paying and honest as possible house, there would probably be a demand for your body of work, with good royalties. But you would have to polish evereything, tighten it up and make them sit up and take notice. A great book cover and a stellar first poem is a powerful attraction. i would look into it down the road and get a good agent.They are worth their weight in gold and get in where authors simply can;t except for one in a hundred thousand.
Fav, from the first time you gave us a poem I felt you had so much to tell and you are a complex individual. In one of my little one's books, it says in the front that a library is full of windows, the windows being books. Step into a window and you walk with the hero or heroine, or the villian or perhaps just an onlooker.You go on a journey and when you step back out of the window you know something or feel something you did not before. I think you have many windows you could take us through, and I should like to see you do it.
Sprodo, I have never read poetry like yours, and it is both sad and funny at once. I would like to see you flesh out your work, take it to a second and third stanza, tell us why you feel life is a dance, why there has to be sun in order for your spirits to rise, that sort of thing. We see the shadows and long to see up close in color, Odette back dearest Odette amd Ladyalyss and Brego, all of you come back, I miss you terribly.
My beloved council members, do step over and write down your thoughts in a poetic manner or a prose manner, only let us delight in your thoughts. I personally consider each and every one of you a hero to me.
Leelee, thanks for your kind words. I just finished a new poem and hit some button and erased the whole post.....So here I go again:
Me the Sun and the World
The suns rays shine for endless days
The suns rays from unknown ways
Who knows the ways of the sun?
Who knows from where it's come?
So close yet so far
A distance measured by the stars
I sit on the ground and wonder how?
How is it I came around?
Why is it I go on and on?
Who sets each new days dawn?
How is it such things can be?
A mystery unknown to me
I love the grass I love the ground
I love the wind that blows leaves around
I love the trees I love the bees
But I really love the summers breeze
Walking around I roam the town
For things that can't be found
Still I love the people I love the dogs
The creatures are great even the hogs
Life is a mystery and now this moment is history
So it's good to live and love
It's good to sing songs that rise above
Yet I always get caught in the in-betweens
Then I wonder what life really means...
A mystery that will soon take us all
And make us ancient history
Ye, wise words, O' Leelee, but to be honest, I do not have the skills of an illustrator, so I best not try to do it by myself, but I could ask from someone capable to work with me.
Nice one, Sprodo. You've brought something new with you, and I liked of it.
I'll now complete the first part of this new work as I write to you guys.
So, it may take a little while to be posted.
Tales From The Realm of Secrets and Legends
The Mirror of Serpent's Eyes
Part I : The Legend of Serannah, The Dark Sorceress of Three Moons
'Much isn't known about her.. But these are the things that can be told about her days as a mortal..'
She was born under the blackened skies
Under cold and nameless stars
Her fate was to become the greatest sorceress of all times
And the prophecy of three moons would become true in one night, so swift and dark
She never knew her own parents, and her mentor tried to keep all of her gifts and powers as a secret
But even he was afraid of her unknown past, a feeling so chill.. a thought that would become his last..
And when she fulfilled eighteen, she left her home and decided to follow the forest stream
It led her to a place of magic and power.. And there she saw a creature so vile and enormous..
It was a giant serpent of fire and wisdom, and as it began to speak, drops of venom fell from it's mouth
And as that venom touched the ground.. everything in it's area died within seconds..
'Do you not know what I am, mortal child? I am the oldest of serpents.. The most powerful being of old times.. I've lived for long enough, and now.. You're here, and you're the one who will carry on with my wishes and deadly plans..'
And so the serpent casted a spell on her, and a red burning mark appeared on her left arm, and she screamed as it burned her skin, but soon the pain faded.. And then she looked at the snake, and it said:
'Now, you're not alone, child. You're not a weak mortal anymore.. You're now one with the serpent of three moons!'
And then the serpent's body collapsed and fell as dead to the ground, but it died on a purpose..
It had become one with Serannah's mind and soul, and from that day on, it would try to find it's way to interfere with her thoughts and try to find a way to control her will and her new powers..
But without knowing anything about this, Serannah quickly arose and ran back to her home as quickly as she could.. She was afraid, and for a good reason, but she couldn't understand one thing, and so she asked from herself: 'Why did the serpent die?'
And when she told about this to her mentor, he looked terrified, backed away from her and said: 'You're not Serannah. I know what you are! Leave her now, or I will cast a spell on you!'
And then her eyes began to glow as the serpent took over, and it hissed as the old man tried to cast a spell.. But he never made it in time, and then she casted an unknown and forbidden spell, which released hundreds of venomous spikes at him..
And in a passing moment of grief, she saw how he fell, and she now knew what she had become.. And as her hands trembled and tears fell down from the corners of her eyes, her mentor suddenly grabbed her hands and spoke to her..
'I've failed you, my child.. that vile serpent.. it controls you now.. but know this, Serannah..
You're not evil.. you can fight it, but do not let it to erase the real.. you..'
And so he died, and she ran away, she ran away from the home of comfort and hope
She wanted to find answers to her questions, she wanted to find a new path, which to follow
The serpent knew that when her mentor's body would be found, they would begin to chase her
So it tried to take control of her mind, but she just kept fighting back, until it would be too late..
And soon the news spread about the death of her mentor, and they blamed her for his death, and the council of powerful magicians gathered a meeting, where they found out the true cause of his death.. It was dark magic of the serpents. And they decided that she cannot live, because.. if she gives in and begins to learn from the serpent, she could become more powerful than anyone in this world..
And that is the legend of Serannah, and though now over a hundred years has passed since of that tragic and fateful day, many of us still believe that she lives, and has lost the battle against the serpent.. And if that is true, then she is now more dangerous than any other being, and she has to die.. with any cost.. But for now, let us enjoy of the peace as long as it just lasts..
To be continued..
Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
Because I am a Messianic Jew I have always held the thought that,while someone, as Tolkien showed, be beaten down until broken and nearly mindless, at the very core of our being is what we truly believe and that cannot be changed or taken from us unless we give consent. With this in view I am quite certain this maiden , who loved her mentor, who willingly allowed him who taught her right from wrong to be her master, well I believe that she would always have that home of comfort and hope in the depths of her being, and it is my thought that she would awaken from the spell at some point and fight to the bitter end and win. It would be as if her master lived on in her, not because he forced it, but because his guardianship would leave a lasting remembrance of what is good upon her and that in the end would win the day.
Well, I hope you liked of it, Leelee, but this is only the first part out of six (or more) possible parts, next one will be a bit longer, it will contain much more poetry etc.
Sadly I cannot reveal how the story will evolve.
But yeah, she is still there somewhere, trying to fight against the serpent's will, but only time will tell will she succeed in it.
But I'm glad I finally found a way to bring up this story. I've been thinking about this for a very long time. Main character and all.
Overall, I think it will be a good epic work. Some of you guys always keep telling me to write something that continues, has parts with plots and stuff, so here it is.
PS. I think, after all, that I may owe some of the main idea to Stargate franchise, which is one of my all-time favorite tv shows. It's kind of funny, since I just realized the connection. It must be, 'cause I've been watching the seasons all over for a while already.
Good evening, folks. I'll start writing my next part to that story tonight. I've some good ideas and now I just have to see how it evolves. Tomorrow I'll go out for a walk on a few occasions. It's a good way to gather more inspiration and new ideas. Trees around, birds in the sky, wind blowing softly, it all helps!
This should be something different, I'm working on that second part to my current story too, but I thought that I need to do this, so, this is for you all, and especially for you Fahvier, since you were the one, who requested a second part to that work.
A Wedding of Morning Rain
'There's something in this world that makes you to wonder about certain things.. About life, how it's wheel spins forward, will one spin last for ages to come, and will it grant us a chance to do something important and meaningful with our own lives.'
'Forever is too long time to wait, take your chances, and act before it's too late.'
I don't know what I should say to you..
This is a great day for both of us, and you know it too..
But here I just stand, I'm speechless like always, I cannot find right words to tell..
I don't know, will I ever be able to express all of my feelings for you, but know this..
For you.. I would even walk through the gates of hell..
Come, my love, the time is at hand, close your eyes and take my hand
I want you to accept this ring, it's a token of love, a token of time and eternity
After this day, our fates will be sealed forever, after this day, we'll always be together
For the rest of all days, I want you to stay here with me, under this sky, so blue and free
'Can't you hear the wedding chimes?'
And as we now stand in front of the altar of love and light
We came here as lovers, but we'll depart from this place as a husband and a wife
Even the god of sun smiles at us from the high above
Soon it will be our time to step through those heavy doors
Don't you ever wonder why we both chose this path
After tonight, we'll turn a new page in our lives
We'll start a whole new chapter, in the book of our joined memories, joys and delights
There's no turning back, this is the moment of happiness, not a moment of sorrow and pain
I want us to look forward to the shades of future, I want us to leave this town, never to return again
This is the reason to each of our decisions and chosen ways, this is a wedding of morning rain..
'Can't you still hear the wedding chimes.. I think I know, why you're now deaf, and why I'm now blind.'
'Love can smother all of your senses, and make you vulnerable to tears of life.'
Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
Oerath, that was very emotion charged and I very much loved the freeness with which you spoke, it was to me the real you speaking in a real conversation to your beloved. Thank you. I myself just love literal morning rain. The deaf and blind words hurt my heart and I was thinking maybe those very tears that brought the grief and the results, in the right setting could heal the eyes and the ears.
Oh thank you, Leelee. That felt very good to write, incredibly good.
That was something very new and different, and this one is not an exception.
Two Days Before The End
And so the world was cloaked with mist
'And so it all began, and the first day of doom arrived, yet there was still something left of hope, and we wished that it would ensure our salvation.'
A morning came, so cold and full of dying light
it changed all of the landscapes and even the face of the sky
A mist, so pale and thick, through it no eye could ever see
and so the world was cloaked with mist, nothing, but a lightless dream
There's something in this world that wants to be found
there it lies in the eye of the mist, or under this sinister ground
If there's still hope left for us, who walk amidst all of the shadows
then tomorrow will certainly come, and with it comes the winds of north
We can either choose to walk towards the vanishing, but powerful light
Or we can follow the moon, and see all of the shapes of the night
We can either bury all of our doubtful thoughts, and face our inner fears
Or we can let them to control our minds and souls
and so everything that is sane to us disappears
It is so cold, wind no longer breaths
and so the world was cloaked with mist
It is so dark, so silent and distant
and so the world was cloaked with mist
And so the sun disappeared from the sky
‘And if we did follow the path of moon, then we’re responsible
for the coming of this second and final day of doom.’
And so the sun disappeared from the sky, and suddenly it was so calm
There was nothing left, but silence, and even the clouds ceased to move
There they were still in the sky, awaiting for something to arrive
But soon all of that silence turned to something much more, to thousands of shivering screams, and as we looked up to the skies, it’s colours had changed from blue and white to red and grey, the colours of blood and mist.. And I believe that this is how it was meant to be, but why we were created, if we weren’t even supposed to exist?
These were the two days before the end
And after all life ceased to exist, something new awakened
And so the mist descended upon all of the lands of this world
And so the world was reborn from the ashes of all purity and redemption
To be dominated by who, if not by the gods?
Are we only machines, ready to be shut down at will?
If I save someone, will someone else save me?
Is the end near, or is it just my imagination, a forsaken feeling of fear?
Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
Oerath, there are too many things I could spend an hour talking about from this tremendous offering of yours so I shall stick to a few. If this were a strictly middle-earth piece I should answer that the something waiting to be found was rather Someone, Illuvatar, waiting in the hushe after math, waiting to be listened for , called upon just as the elves did when they lay down their weapons and called for help; And the part where you mention taking care of , sort of saving one another reminds me of the sentiments of our beloved Professor Tolkien. He talks of his mother and father having saved one another. lovely
Thanks, Leelee. It's quite a different work, but well, all of my works differ from each other in a way or another. It's just how it's meant to be.
That one had a specific feel of the world ending, but something new arose from the fading shadows, a new glimmering light, a new order of beings who will rule the world after the chaos and destruction.
But what caused the two days before the end, what is the true meaning of it all?
But who is the one to rule that world, maybe none, and that is the mystery I want it to be.
To think of it, my writing style is a bit mysterious, but I only do what I love to do, and I cannot think of anything better than writing and sharing these works with you guys. Though I do not have much time to participate on many other threads, I'll always stay in this thread. Always.
Have a good evening, all of you.
Good evening, folks. I'm going to write some poetry, and later due to night/morning, I'll post my new journal entry tomorrow. It will be a token of honor to my grandmother, who passed away two weeks ago.
@ Leelee, got your message, and yeah, Celeborn's acts are too harsh and weird, and I have never been more upset about these kind of things, 'cause I really value those old stories of mine, that's how I started in first place, and I consider those stories holy, and though not so good as my more professional works, but still..
I'm glad to hear that the matter is solved.
And Leelee, frost has claimed the landscapes as it's own. And I'm going to write about it.
But a bit later, so waitie, waitie.
Edit: I fell asleep, so I'll be able to finish my current poetry and writings today. The poem itself will be divided to three parts + one last epic part, it will be called: 'My heart was made of ice and snow'
Have a good day.
I miss you guys so..love and hugs everyone.Oerath I'm so sorry about your grandmother.She would be so proud if you dedicated it to her.
I really have not had time to write,especially the Tolkienish ones,which take extra care and style.But I would love to contribute a little sad thing I wrote after I got a nightmare a few days back ....
In ordinary spaces stand ordinary people
And there is nothing remarkable about the way the sky or the river is
But somehow I believe that behind every closed mouth
Are laughter and words, engaging and disturbing
I writhe at times with voiceless and faceless fears
And sometimes I’m afraid of you
At times I don’t even hear you
So bothered I am with your ceaseless stare
Good to see you again, Odette, and thanks for your words.
I'm sorry, but I've had to delay my newest poems, since I had my birthday party last night, and this day has been full of stuff.
But I'll try to post some new stuff tomorrow.
Should work out finely.
I also started to post some poetry on the site called: allpoetry.com. It's my try to become more popular in poetic ways, so if you want to follow my posts, go there and check out my account of same name.
Have a good evening and sleep well! - Oerath.
Odette, you have come home for a little. Thank you.
Happy belated birthday Oerath, may the blessings of Illuvatar overwhelm you this coming year and lift you on wings of eagles in joy peace and productivity.
Thanks, Leelee, and sorry for my absence due to past 1-2 weeks.
By the way, I'm going to write sequels to both 'The mirror of serpent's eyes' and to 'The gathering of lost spirits'. And some other poetry during the next days or weeks.
I'll do this some day, but more presently, I'll start writing a horror themed piece, and it will be my first novel in ages, so let's see what happens to it.
It'll contain some of my usual fantasy though, but in a dark and somewhat mysterious way.
I've some really good ideas, since I'm a very long-time horror movie fan, though nowadays I get scared more easily, if it's a book, a movie or a song, or a game, it doesn't matter, anything that's dark and creepy sends chills down my spine, but it's a good thing.
It is valuable in terms of experience and feeling, and this shall be my advantage as I write this tale, which will set motion in late 17th century. A little homage to Amnesia: The Dark Descent in some way.
I am not sure about the entitle, but I'll tell something as I get to it, but this one will be most likely some 'try and publish' material.
Yikes, if it is too scary our little Odette will be in a bad way for weeks.Oerath don't apologize for any time away, like real families we can't all be in the house at the same time, no worries there. However that does mean that the other nine thousand of you reading this are being appealed to , come on then, give us a wee poem to brighten your and our day. pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez.
Odette I reread your little poem and honestly there is a great deal of depth and meaning in it for me and it made a lump in my throat and tears to my eyes. I am sorry you had that nightmare and hope for no more to trouble your dear heart.
She walks back and forth,
A fragile shadow in ink.
And then she pauses
And listens for a faint sound.
Could it be the hour
Both terrible and wondrous,
The Prophecys Time?
Have the years passed by
and the moment at last come
for battle, for blood?
For Truth to Conquer
The stench of sulpher and lies?
Yes her heart cries out.
She turns at the brush
of light feet on the pathway
Her eyes fixed on his,
Under the starlight
His eyes, full of pain and joy-
He is at home here.
She bows before him
And he does the same to her.
"Arwen,I am come.'
Elrond half elven
emerges from fragrant doors
A soft cry of joy.
She, Lady Arwen
Is bathed in a gentle peace;
Whatever comes next
She will now be calm.
Her heart's desire now fulfilled
She has seen His face.
I'm sorry for my inactivity, but I guess we all do need our breaks. I'm starting to write that horror story tomorrow, and though I cannot share it here, I'll try to give some parts of it away on this thread.
This one is dedicated to my grandmother, who passed away a bit under month ago.
It's not anything groundbreaking, but something I thought to share. In a bit fictional way, or in a way to remember, how important life is to us. If someone close to us dies, it's not a reason to succumb to despair and depressing thoughts.
A Moment of Remorse and Grief
So many unspoken words.. I only wished you to hear my prayers..
But I was too late.. And when I heard you passed away, I knew that it would change my life..
So here I stand, praying to your gods, I want them to release your soul, I don't want to let go off you..
I've so many things left to say, this life is too dark and grey, so please return..
Release your spirit.. Fly towards the sky, I don't want you to burn..
I still remember the day, when we carried your coffin across the misty fields
I heard the chimes, it made me to cry, but I still wanted to honor your memory
So I did it all with honor and pride, and I even smiled for one more time..
When we laid your soul to rest for eternity.. It was a moment of remorse and grief..
I want to close my eyes.. But I cannot wipe my eyes off these tears..
Why I've to go through this pain and torment, I don't want to cry, I don't want to feel any fear..
I wish you were here to comfort me, I don't want my soul to get lost, I want it to be free..
But if I cannot make it to shades of a new day, then this isn't my world.. this isn't a place where to stay..
But it doesn't solve anything, if I take my own life..
It isn't a reason to run and hide, I have to face all of that sorrow, it's not my time to die..
Then one day, when I'll find that realm of yours, I want you to whisper these words to my ears..
'I'm glad you didn't give up in your life.. I'm glad that you're now here, and now you've seen what happens.. When you'll shed the last of your tears..'
Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
Sad to see so much silence around these corners of the hall.
By the way, Leelee, well written. I forgot to mention that in my previous post.
I'm now done with the entitle and first three pages. It's going to be something different, and my imagination wishes me to take steps that involve more difficult and professional words and linings, so from now on, I have to think carefully.
And since I'm trying to write this one as a novel, I've some personal expectations for this one.
I'm going to write this bit by bit, starting from tonight.
This is the official entitle, and it ain't going to change.
'The Old Mansion of Silvershade Hill'
Well, I finally have a poem to share... I have another one in progress, (mostly in my mind) So I hope to be able to have that done soon too. I am so glad winter is coming in, time to wrap up everything... enough talk, here it is.
A soul; so precious, so fleeting,
Like a whisper of wind,
A hearts single beating.
A life; so short, so subtle,
Like a flowers bloom,
Or the drop of a petal.
Oh' what shall I do with this tick of the clock?
For all seems vanity, this journey we walk.
One word to the world we've granted to say.
Then echoes, echoes, as our imprint in life.
Are the shimmers of hope worth all the strife?
As the mark we've left starts to fade away.
But what of the ones who've lived it strong,
Through hurt and death still sing the song,
Of joy and life and things that grow.
Those who see the real beauty in things we know.
Do they live to see an extra day?
To them does life still fade away?
In naught we answer,
In joy they proclaim:
A single flower is worth all the pain.
Ah Oerath, that poem of your nan is a great and beautiful work of art, I can almost see her through my tears, smilling at you, her own dear eyes shedding tears of joy and pride in such a grandson. Thank you. I can't stop crying.
And YOU, Fahvier, that was absolutely stunning. What an essay on the value and beauty of this life we live. I would like permission from both of you if I may to print out your poems and put them on my wall. They mean so much, they need a second and third and fiftieth reading to drink in all the subtle nectars in each word. Thank you for contributions from the bottom of my heart. If only Odette and Brego and Sprodo and the others could read these.
Thank you so much for the kind words Leelee! They mean so much to us all. Truly. By all means you can use the poem in whichever way you desire
Fahvier, i am surprised you have not written a lot of poetry here. your poem is beautiful, you have a brilliant talent!
I was reading about the wars in Afghanistan and Israel recently and it saddened my heart. i thought of this poem, it's not much but it's what i think...
Lights fill the sky,
The only sounds are screams
People fall around me,
Am I alive?
Everyone is in pain,
I cannot find anyone,
Another bomb falls,
Am I alive?
Fire lights up the blood red sky,
I cry, tears and smoke in my eyes.
I don’t understand any of it,
Am I alive?
Why is this happening?
Why are we killing each other?
What has happened to sanity?
What has happened to love?
I thought we were human,
The world is like hell
Fire is the sky and bodies are the ground,
I thought we were human….
by Lady Alyss
Welcome back, Fahvier and LadyAlyss. There's much for you both to dig, I'm sure of that. ^^
There's some poetry here and there, since you two have been away for a long while.
Anyway, I enjoyed of both entries, so keep it up.
I am a bit bored at the moment, so before I go to sleep, I want to write something that fits. Something that describes all of the nights, when I just lay on my bed and do some whispers and stuff.
This chapter shall be closed
This long case clock.. It ticks and it ticks, I fear that it won't ever stop..
Why all of these mirrors are broken.. What lies behind all of these doors..
Am I all alone in this hall of madness and silence.. Am I lost without a source of light..
What if this all is just a part of some strange plot.. What if this is the worst nightmare of my life..
Candlelights are fading out.. I hear a scream, but I don't want to hear anything, I don't want to doubt..
I believe that there's something sinister and evil in these paintings.. Something is crawling towards me..
It's a being without eyes and it's missing a part of it's chest.. Markings of torture.. Scarred and burning flesh..
I've to close my eyes.. I don't want to be a part of this insanity.. Not this time..
I want to run.. And jump from the edge of that bridge..
And always when I close my eyes and enter the realm of sleep..
I see my own death.. I see myself.. I'm ready to take the one and last breath..
I see a open door, but I'm afraid to walk through it, I've seen this vision once before..
I see a crow, it tries to fill my mind with darkness and lies, it wants me to fly..
But I only want to put my hands on my ears.. I want to close my eyes and face all of those fears..
But can I do it before it's too late.. If I decide to end this, will it all stop..
And what will become of this place?
This house is so old and weak, it is just like me..
I believe that none of us can deny what we hear, and what we see..
This chapter shall be closed, none shall stand, none shall bow..
I believe that my body is no more..
I believe that it was devoured by the being that entered to this world..
Through my mind and those closed doors..
They say that darkness is worth living for, but are they wrong?
Is it a curse to live in this twilight world?
Is it right, if the beating of your heart cannot be heard?
I cannot see my own reflection in the mirror..
I cannot see my own shadow, nor the air I breath..
Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
Lady, thank you thank you for coming to us if only for the twinkle of a distant star, it really matters.You speak with the heart and soul of countless girls and women , worn out by the hate that never accomplishes anything. I think that Arwen would have greatly appreciated your words, and Aeoyn too. Oerath so much of what you write, not so much how the words lay against one another, but the stark keen feelings remind me of the crazed grief experienced in tragic and jagged moments in the lives of those in the Unfinished Tales and the Silmarillion. I have no doubt that the Professor might have given you pointers which is not and never will be done on this thread, to tighten your work and be on par with the highest minds in Oxford. You always have a story to tell, an epic story to tell. Such was the stuff of all the ages in Middle-Earth.
Thank you Fav, I am using both poems, Oerath I do not have your permission yet, and will put both in a frame and put on the wall for discussion in our family. And one by one use one from each person if I might so I can sho my family and others the high calibre of thought on this poetry site. All of you are like the silmarillion, there is no one like any of you and I am always enchanted.
Thanks for your kind words, Leelee.
And well, I've one request: could it be 'Unknown Star'
PS. There was no text in that message of yours back then.
So if you want me to receive it, write it down to a message, and then I can copy it to desktop of my own computer.
Seasons change in a green world.
Rain from the West refreshes my home.
From the mould on the rocks.
The moss on the bole.
From root to tip of the forest towers.
The tiny flower close to the ground.
The acorn dropped from the heights unknown.
Yavanna knows and unlocks them with love.
For the life of Eru she guides without thought.
In Ages long passed it began with speech.
From Oak to Ash to forest Beech.
The Elves of twighlight with Maian Queen.
She began it at first with patience and knowledge.
To learn and to listen Not too hasty now.
We loved the Elves voices for years uncounted.
Awoken by voice where before the were none.
Our voices remained hidden until we were sure.
That our language would be heard and understood.
Slowly we woke to look at a world.
Under starlight and twighlight.
For she slept for a while with her cousin Isil.
Anar the day star born of the West.
Born of the bosom of The Land Undying.
From West to East and Back to West guided anew trailed by Moon.
He loved her before and follows for ever.
A new road was chosen as even now is followed.
Growth and life was changed forever.
For great light was received with joy and love.
Our flocks grew and flourished and became strong.
A balance of life of renewal was made.
Over ages uncounted we grew and watched.
As the powers ebbed and flowed.
Now the Men have come with there hasty lives.
The Elves have gone home and my world is dimmed.
We shrink and wane as the Powers had planned.
What now for me and my world of green.
Will the dark lord finally succeed in his plan.
For his use of those who grow green will mean.
That Ages old balances will fail as my forests fall.
Look twice at a tree in a forest tall.
For we may look back before the fall.
Whisper close and slow and speak with your heart.
Perhaps you will hear an answering voice.
From Fangorn of old the voice will echo.
Brego, I read your work twice a nd each time I had the same unreal profound sense as the first line sunk into my mind of a deep silence such as mankind now could not possibly comprehend.. A silence pregnant with the thought of Eru, and a world so green, so brown, so blue, such silver bubbling brooks, such immortal beauty that i saw it each time as a complete oil painting. Stunning . Well now, we may not be many in this thread but such talent I pray will not go to waste, but be used for the blessing of all.In my opinion the world is far better off with one line of immaculate beauty of thought than ten Alexandrian libraries heavy with so so words. Thankyou for such a contribution. And I will certainly share this with my family as well. Being of the House of David, the royal line of Judah our family, small in number is greatly interested in recapturing the remnants of what was, the beauty and wisdom and cherished arts and one of my family is becoming a gold smith. So we have always considered ourselves Elves, primarily concerned with slowing the decay, preserving what was while there is time. Your piece so fits in with our lives, and especially Yavannah and the acorn and the tiny flower, that is powerful. Thankyou so much and please, like our Prince of Poems Oerath who , no matter what he endures or what comes to snatch his time just plods ahead little by little, please I beg of you, of this little assembly, do the same. One of my family carries about a tiny notebook, and when he is at coffee or having his tea, will whip it out and add a few lines a thought or two to a book he is writing, . He even took plastercine in hand and made a tiny version of the great city he envisioned for his story. He looks upon it there on the desk and a little more verse comes to him. And Agatha Christie, so her grandson said , often would hear a snatch or two of conversation from here or there and quickly dig into her pocket or purse and take out pen and a scraps of paper to scribble them down so she should not forget. Later hen time afforded she would take them out and put them on the table and see what she could come up with. All of us can do that I am sure. And remember how many years it took our beloved professor to write his master pieces. The germaine point dear ladies and gentlemen is he wrote them.
thank you all for your kind comments I saw a white rabbit the other day and wrote this...
The ghost rabbit
I saw it upon a winters eve,
Sat by the light of the moon
Staring sadly at the rose.
She heard a rustle and turned to see,
But found nothing but dead leaves and trees.
She turned again unto the rose.
It lay glistening, as red as blood,
As cold as ice, in its frozen bed.
The snow starts to fall again.
She knew she had to leave,
Tomorrow night, she’d come again,
The white, ghost rabbit…