The Last Homely House
General => Council of Cobra => Topic started by: Elendil!Urukfear on November 21, 2008, 03:17:54 PM
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Hey peeps, it's me again. Trying to figure out how to make the coolest threads. This one is for anything that you want to share to the public. Poems, short stories, made up songs ect...
Just thought it would be cool. I'll even start out with my own poem (and for guys it's totally cool to have something like this, don't worry, I am the highest supprano pitch in my school chorus.)... here goes:
Time
What do we know of this despondent thing?
No sign no sound no tranquil ring.
We try to tell what quant it is yet fail to see the point.
Only one can know of it, to this eternal joint.
Power of it would seem an illusion.
For though we try there is no solution.
We cannot control but only can wait,
Inside the heart so dimly lit.
And see the destined we aren’t allowed,
for time will always conceal it.
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Who are you?
Who are you?
So lost within the sea of faces
So alone in crowded places
No matter where you come from,
Here's where you belong,
Harmonizing with a Voice
That sings a different song.
Skipping rocks across a lake
Each one farther than before
But they never reach the other side,
They woefully fall short.
Then towards us came a perfect stone
Thrown by a man who stood alone
Who are you?
Who are you?
Here's where you belong
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Suh-weet!!! I like it. When did you make that? Or did you get it off the I?
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i wrote it just a couple days ago. i have a bunch of lyrics without music.
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Awesome! I have a nice voice for singing, and I'm starting a band but I can never finish song lyrics, I always get the chorus and that's it.
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About falling in love:
Fork in the Parking Lot
You told me I could really turn a phrase.
I told you that you could really fill a frame.
Our patient words are still unheard;
The other doesn’t hear. The other doesn’t hear.
The fork’s in the parking lot with the moon up in the sky.
Daydreaming on high midnight watching spaceships floating by.
Something’s slipping underneath, I’ve fallen in again…
Catch me glove, catch me love, I’m falling in again.
I try my hand at speaking plain and find things to be worse.
The straightest words sound to me so hollow and rehearsed.
I resort again to complex metaphors hidden in the verse:
Stocky gout is proving the lion’s den.
Oh, where can I begin? Oh, where, can I begin?
I skip ahead to see myself settled down up to my knees
In the land of dreams where the wild things are born of fancy wings.
Will you please come with me as I dream the dream of the dreaming you and me?
The fork’s in the parking lot with the moon up in the sky.
Daydreaming on high midnight watching spaceships floating by.
Something’s slipping underneath, I’ve fallen in again…
Catch me glove, catch me love, I’m falling in again.
Here's a poem I wrote from the perspective of the "bad" guy in my book:
Haymaker
Painfully keen and it’s all-too aware
Crouching in front and I just cannot stare.
Intimidation lingers, shocking defined
Sight without seeing, I am survived.
The future, rescinding.
The future is ending.
Finding hidden the haymaker inside
Shining beams assaulting the hide
Forever’s turmoil and eternity’s grief
Standing sullen, fallen streets.
The path is retreating.
The path is believing.
What trust has been becomes trust undue
Corners and stones, chipped but new.
On the slippery slope: destiny.
Through the sinister scope: prophecy.
The choice is reminding.
The choices are binding.
The future is coming.
The path is retreating.
The choices are binding.
The present is living.
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Well...I thought about posting my essay on Libertarianism vs Communitarianism and the origin of comtemporary American political philosophies.
Then I saw the poetry...and decided....
To yell for AD.
AD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah, I prefer wasting my time writing a fiery manifesto that makes people want to destroy stuff vs fluffy poetry and songs.
There was this really dumb song that my brother and I wrote. It was seriously stupid. I sang it real slow into Sound Recorder on the computer, then sped it up so it sounded like a mouse singing it. It was a song about a mouse, a cat, a dog and a horse. Yeah...that was 5 years ago. Go figure.
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I want to see that essay.
all I have is a cwuddy story I wrote a while back. I mean...REAALLLY cruddy. and steroetypical.
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There was this really dumb song that my brother and I wrote. It was seriously stupid. I sang it real slow into Sound Recorder on the computer, then sped it up so it sounded like a mouse singing it. It was a song about a mouse, a cat, a dog and a horse. Yeah...that was 5 years ago. Go figure.
Lol! :lol: That's hilarious! Have a :gp:.
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Well...I thought about posting my essay on Libertarianism vs Communitarianism and the origin of comtemporary American political philosophies.
Then I saw the poetry...and decided....
To yell for AD.
AD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You called?
Okay, fine. 3 poems.
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The explanation for this one is that the Northern Lights are sometimes associated with the Valkyrie. Actually, we're not certain if this association actually existed in the Norse Myth; it depends on how a particular passage in the Eddas is interpreted. Anyway, I used the assumption that the Aurora Borealis IS the ride of the valkyrie for this particular poem.
Valkyrie
Blades Flash,
Blood Flows;
Shields Clash,
Broken Bows;
Raven Feeds,
Battle-web Woven;
Slaughtered Steeds,
Helmets Cloven.
Burning Pyre,
Beneath Emerald Fire.
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For this one, NOLINKHugin and Munin are two ravens of Norse Myth who serve the chief god Oðinn. NOLINKHugin means "The Thought" and Munin means "The Memory". I wrote this at 1am one morning, so I was tired. Don't blame me. Actually, it ended up being a lot more upbeat than I had intended, but whatever....
NOLINKHugin and Munin
NOLINKHugin
One Raven flies from the North.
Swifter than the stream, he cries:
“I am the dancing dream,
The emissary of the Mind.
I stir hands to build halls;
To forge thrones and burn thorns.
My wisdom uncovers the unknown.
I am NOLINKHugin – I am Thought.”
Munin
One Raven flew from the North.
Swifter than the stream, he dies.
And now speaks another bird,
Sitting beneath darkened boughs:
“I am the Shadow, all that remains.
The emissary of the Lost.
I build halls to stir hands;
To forge from loss and burning years.
My wisdom is all that remembers.
I am Munin – I am Memory.”
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This one's pretty self-explanatory....
No Lost Songs Here…
I sit here,
Staring at a blank screen.
The cursor blinks coldly
Over a waiting white sheet.
Empty of any mighty epic,
Or soul-stirring elegy,
I wonder vaguely…
…now what?
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This one is about a time when i was walking in Washington DC (the capitol building by the trees and fountain) at midnight, while it was raining. i was with my friends johnny, and a girl we had just met.
There we were
Walking in the rain
The clock struck midnight
A witness to the flame
Then what happened?
It seems we tripped and fell
Am i drowning in the ashes?
Or burning in a well?
Do my emotions lie to me
When they tell me I'm OK
and though i know I'm blindfolded
I still try to see
Sometimes when life is rough
We've got to simply be
The wheel of our sincerity
Has flung right off the track
Now our love is crashing down
Is there any going back?
Tried to help you do what's right
But it seems i made you miss
Didn't know the tendrils of my actions
Could have spread as far as this
Do my emotions lie to me
When they tell me I'm OK
and though i know I'm blindfolded
I still try to see
Sometimes when life is rough
We've got to simply be
What have i done to you?
Did my words lead you on?
I got what i never wanted
And what i want is now gone.
We each held a corner
And ripped our love apart
Did we have a chance together?
Or were we doomed right from the start
My fingertips touched you once more
To say what i have never spoken
I stand here knocking at the door
Of Lost, of Sad, of Broken
Please give me one more token
To know our love was truly real
Give me something i can feel
Before it fades away,
Before you fade away.
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Just a reminder. not everything has to be a poem... you can put horror stories and what not, if you like.
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Just a reminder. not everything has to be a poem... you can put horror stories and what not, if you like.
yeah, see i never wrote any horror stories... i'm trying to write a thriller novel, but haven't wrote in months... i know, i'm lame...
i have some essays from school, one is about beef jerky. that might be interesting, but...
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Just a reminder. not everything has to be a poem... you can put horror stories and what not, if you like.
My Life- by Elf Lvr
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Quick question: why does everyone take a shot at EL? ;) I know why I do, of course! :P Just wondering...
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Quick question: why does everyone take a shot at EL? ;) I know why I do, of course! :P Just wondering...
Emos are easy targets.
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yeah, see i never wrote any horror stories... i'm trying to write a thriller novel, but haven't wrote in months... i know, i'm lame...
i have some essays from school, one is about beef jerky. that might be interesting, but...
Yea, it don't matter, just put in anything you think is interesting.
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there once was a dark forest. it was very dark. so dark, that the darkness couldn't be seen because of the utter darkness.... then there came a light into this dark, dark forest of darkness. and the light frightened the mewlips, who preyed on passers by... in the darkness, in the dark and black of night...
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Interesting... what happened when the blinding lightness appeared in the dark dark forest?
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i'm not quite sure about that. it was very dark...
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:uh-huh: hehe... I gotcha. I'm starting to write a short story about who knows what. You guys wanna hear it?
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yes
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Here it is. Sorry about the page breaks, I tried to make them smaller but it's kinda hard on this kind of program.
The secret of Hornas
By: John Pierl
Prologue
Aaron (the first character you will see if you actually are interested enough to read to the first chapter) was a normal kid. And I know that’s what they all say but it’s true, as if the term normal applies to someone who gets D’s in two major classes at school, has a younger brother who, to be honest, is an absolute pest, is an okay football player, and has divorced parents. If indeed that is what you consider normal. But anyway, Aaron is one of those guys who doesn’t know if he’s going to see past 30 years (and no he’s not emotional and doesn’t intend to commit suicide). He just kinda sort of doesn’t know where his life is headed and why he would want to go through so much suffering for so long. But this is all soon to be altered.
Chapter 1
Bzzbzzbzzzzzzzz. Uggggggg! Just shut up for like two seconds will yah, you dim-witted piece of pre-historic garbage called an alarm clock. Aaron thought grudgingly. He reached for the snooze but awkwardly lost balance on the side of his bed and slammed into the floor. Bzzbzzbzzzzzzzz. Growling at the shock of the fall and the fact that his bothersome alarm was now increasing its volume with every ring, Aaron shoved himself against his night-stand causing the alarm clock to fall off of its perch and hit him in the head. This in turn made him tremendously angrier and caused him to begin shouting at the clock and beating his fists into the side of his bed. This whole time he had been fussing around and had not noticed that he had been moved to a different room than he had begun sleeping in the past night. He pulled himself up and looked around; the walls were painted a Columbia blue, matching the pillow and sheets on his bed. There were some posters of old movies, a computer, and a TV set. “This must be one of the rooms in dad’s new house.” Aaron considered. He opened the door and found a carpeted, empty hallway with stairs at the end. Wandering around he found a red travel bag and opened it to find his packing stuff. He thought of brushing his teeth and washing, but he would usually do that after breakfast.
Venturing down the stairs Aaron found his dad eating cereal on the kitchen counter and reading the newspaper. “Hey dad” Aaron said, trying to make the morning light. He waited and found no reply.
“Soooo, this is your new house, eh?”
“Yeah,” Mr. Mason replied, avoiding eye contact.
“Cool...”
Aaron then decided to stop the non-advancing conversation and find some breakfast. Opening a cabinet he found three boxes of cereal: Cheerios, Captain Crunch, and Frosted Flakes. What am I, a toddler? Aaron pondered why he had to choose a cereal from three such hackneyed brands of breakfast meals. As if knowing what he was thinking about Mr. Mason commented “There are waffles in the bottom cabinet to your left.” Wow! How does he do that? He thought in overwhelming admiration for his father. It seemed that every time he was dumped at his dad’s house it seemed that he always found his old man to know exactly what he wanted. In fact, waffles were a part of his dream last night. But who’s crazy enough to think about that right. Anyway, Aaron found the pre-frozen waffles and a toaster and went to work heating them up and finding what types of sweet things to lather on top of his tasty treat. In the end he had compiled syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles, caramel sauce, and a cherry. “Perfect” he sighed as he dug into the overloaded toaster treat. After eating he washed up and went back into his room to watch TV. But, seeing that it only had about 5 channels he set outside to see if he could find something to occupy him for the summer.
Looking around he found a shack in the backyard and, being as curious about it as anyone would be, he ventured inside it to find that it was only a normal shed containing a push mower, weed-whacker, and the basic gardening utensils. Bored as ever, Aaron sat in a lawn chair on the front porch to watch the casual car, truck, and van roll by. “Oh, wow! A red truck” said Aaron sarcastically “and look at that a grey car, fascinating. Such a great way to spend the summer,” Then something in the middle of the road caught Aaron’s eye. It appeared to be just some litter or junk or something, but it was enough to make him curious. He wandered out to the edge of the road and could make out that it was some kind of stuffed toy. This, of course, was not enough for Aaron. Looking both ways to make sure that there were no vehicles coming around the curve, he strolled out into the road to find that it was a doll, A rag doll to be exact. But, as soon as he got the chance to bend down and look at it he heard a roar getting louder and louder and turned to find a large truck driving at an abnormal speed in his direction. Before he could jump out of the way, the truck was on him (not literally). Knowing that he had no chance Aaron ducked down to the side of the road as far as he could go. Then, right as it was about to hit him, the truck veered away into an oncoming car, and another car crashed into the mix creating a dog-pile of steaming massed vehicles. Aaron, still on the ground, looked up to find that the entire mass of vehicles, the road, house and everything that had been there before was now gone. Unable to stop himself Aaron voiced his thoughts.
“Is this heaven?”
“Far from it,” replied a voice behind him.
Aaron turned to find a stranger standing a few meters away from where he stood. The stranger was a midget of a man, about five feet tall, and wore some type of cloak that reached to the ground. He had an extremely large beard that hung past his chest, and carried a battle-axe that was almost bigger than the man himself. Before Aaron could say anything, the man spoke again:
“The name’s Baroin.”
“That’s a peculiar name.” Aaron said not knowing what else to say.
“So is Aaron.”
“How do...?”
“I’d rather not explain right now, because I’m in a rather big predicament at the moment, and so are you.”
“I’m in…?”
“That’s right, and we’re not exactly safe here.”
As if proving the smaller man’s point, hundreds of little hatchets, similar to Baroin’s, nailed into the ground all around them. For the second time in a row, Aaron had come so close to death that he was almost paralyzed. Jaw dropped full open, eyes bigger than golf balls, Aaron stared at the hatchets as if they had pierced his flesh to the bone. Baroin, in the meantime was throwing the hatchets back at the invisible foe, who were really only concealed by trees. “Aaron we gotta’ get out of here! Follow me.” But seeing that Aaron was stock still in awe and terror, he decided to make things forceful. He grabbed Aaron by the arm and forced him in front still picking up the little hatchets and throwing them back at the on comers. Aaron finally managed to break free from the Baroin’s iron grip and, terrified, he ran for his life not knowing where he was going. Seeing this, Baroin gave up throwing the hatchets and ran after him. The enemy pursuing them was no match for Aaron’s ever strengthening acceleration, as horror gave speed to it. As for Baroin, he was having trouble keeping up with Aaron, but he managed to out-match them. After a while of prolonged running Aaron came to a stop. “Where… are we?” He gasped barely able to mouth the words. “Somewhere… outside of the Kingdom... I think.” Baroin, trying not to hurt his image, made these forced tones as if he was in shape.
Up ahead of Aaron and Baroin were two roads that lead of in different directions. The sign read: Left- Ahmorai village
Right-Tuetanlient forest
“Right” Baroin said, already heading that way himself. Along the path they came to another fork and again they went right. This eventually led them to a little cottage surrounded by trees and streams. The forest hut was made out of wood and solid stone, along with some straw for a roof and clay chimney.
“Welcome to my home.” Baroin said in a cheery tone.
“Why is your roof made of straw and not some wood planks or something?”
“Straw? That’s lomondice, and it happens to be a very strong weed. Besides, the forest creates enough shelter if ever it rains.”
“Ahhhh, lemondice. Never heard of it.”
“Why would you? You humans make your homes out of metal and have no cares for the woods growing outside them.”
By then Aaron was at a lost for words and did not intend to fight back. After all he had absolutely no idea what he was doing here and how this place even existed. Maybe it’s all a dream, Aaron thought maybe this little man is just in my head. He began pinching himself. Nope, definitely not a dream. He soon entered the cabin to find that it was almost empty. There were no ceiling drapes and no decorations just a chair, shelf, and a fireplace with a boiling pot hanging in the middle. Aaron walked around to find that there were a few old books on the shelf, and a large colorful stone in the pot of boiling water. “What’s this?” asked Aaron, poking the stone.
“An egg.” Baroin answered.
“An egg?”
“Yes, a dragon egg,” replied Baroin quite casually.
“Ha,” Aaron laughed. “Where’d you get it, Toys R’ Us?”
“The Black Market actually.”
Aaron was starting to get a little scared, even though what Baroin was saying was nonsense, the way he had said it was so calm and even that Aaron was starting to believe him.
Just then, snap! He looked down to see a small dent at the top of the ‘egg’ leading into three little cracks, crackle snap! The cracks were getting longer and splitting into more and more cracks into the crust. One of the top pieces of the egg flipped off and into the boiling water. Aaron could then see that, inside of the egg, there were two pale blue eyes staring evenly back at him.
Chapter 2
For a moment, and a moment only, Aaron lost all train of thought. It was as if he was not on earth, which technically, he wasn’t. The two sets of eyes were locked for what seemed like a century, and then the creature spoke.
“Da”
Though it was just a gesture that probably meant the baby dragon needed food, but Aaron thought differently. “He thinks I’m his daddy” he giggled as the mortal was attempting a climb out of the egg. “Wheellllllll. I hate to say this kid, but… you are.”
“WHAT?!?!?” Aaron exploded, even though he liked the thought of being a dad.
“According to my manual here, the first being that a new born fire drake looks upon and finds trust in (don’t ask me how) is the temporary mother or father.
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So far, so good.
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Just wrote this. 'Tis a good one.
Meander
You’re doing me a great disservice;
You are a test of my endurance.
Time betrays what it always knew… me and her.
I cannot see through the sight of you… meander.
Why are you here, what are you now?
How can this be that you’re real somehow?
I meander in canter from behind in a stride
As the encounter-empower passes through where I tried.
Your vision is keen to see something in mine
That finds deeper in yours the source of the brine.
We’re reading the souls in the opposite’s keeping:
Here are two people trapped meandering, screaming.
Why are you here, what are you now?
How can this be that you’re real somehow?
I meander and scamper from behind in my pride
That in December’s winter I found the spring of my mind.
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Just wrote this. 'Tis a good one.
Meander
You’re doing me a great disservice;
You are a test of my endurance.
Time betrays what it always knew… me and her.
I cannot see through the sight of you… meander.
Why are you here, what are you now?
How can this be that you’re real somehow?
I meander in canter from behind in a stride
As the encounter-empower passes through where I tried.
Your vision is keen to see something in mine
That finds deeper in yours the source of the brine.
We’re reading the souls in the opposite’s keeping:
Here are two people trapped meandering, screaming.
Why are you here, what are you now?
How can this be that you’re real somehow?
I meander and scamper from behind in my pride
That in December’s winter I found the spring of my mind.
YO DIGGY DOG IF YOU REALLY WANT TO DIG GET A SHOVEL!!
Job well done =D>
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Hey people, I've gotta couple of lyrics I made for my band, And I need you guyses help coming up with names for the songs. I won't post them quite yet, because I don't have my notebooks on me, but sometime in the near future.