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THE FRAY / Fan Poetry, Prose and Other Forms of Literature

off topic chattery

Postby queenofnerds on 13 Dec 2011, 10:17



Aww thank you!! :D


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby queenofnerds on 14 Dec 2011, 18:54



Is it normal to spend all day just thinking "what have I said? what have I done?"
when not one word has passed his lips.
Tripping over my feet, when nothing I do has a consequence.
So I can push it further.
And I do.

Oh well sometimes it goes well. Sometimes not so!


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby queenofnerds on 20 Dec 2011, 10:43



Can't help but try, go the distance,
been half show a safe home, forgive my persistance.
Took a few winters for my cherry to grow, chilled to the bone.
Polaris rolled on her tracks many times to crack that stone
and let the earth in, cotton limbs mark the birth
of my doomed love, without worth.


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby wiggle on 31 Dec 2011, 19:34



When a songwriter and a poet fall out over the extent to which their respective arts overlap

It looks very much like
This dispute will rage on,
In the meantime,
I say to the poet:
Write your singer a poem,
And to the singer:
Write your poet a song.

http://thesensitivebore.blogspot.com/20 ... -over.html


My music/film/poetry/fiction blog:
http://www.thesensitivebore.blogspot.com
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Postby queenofnerds on 04 Feb 2012, 00:01



Set me off to claw greedily at your chest. You're mine, I'll coil myself around you.
Beat my breath against you.
Pull at your hair, lazily swept over your brow. Don't say don't kick against me, i'll kick out, just to watch you go.


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby queenofnerds on 16 Mar 2012, 22:51



Ok need to write... do first think later that is my moto


How did it come to this in just one week
my hands are steady, my words easy to speak
Though you are quick to force my hand, make rash decisions
you can't change my latest visions, a life and mind all of my own.
Day to day I find solutions, learn and grow from these contusions (sorry)
you were so desperate to hide me from, but I don't need it now.


Well I will keep filling the thread with nonsense till someone else steps on up!!


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby dwaink on 17 Mar 2012, 01:42



queeny relationship strife is the heart and soul of poetry sometimes, by this i mean many writers are driven to write when they are outside of a relationship, or falling in love and yet when in a stable relationship sometimes find it very hard to write(no muse). work it, keep a diary of stuff, milk that stress and strife for all it is worth.Find a poet whose work u really like, and plain copy it in yer own words, suss out the style, the metrics, the sound of words he/she uses...try to make what u are writing exactly like that poet. Now this is just lessons, just working the trade, because once u are able to do that u will have begun to master at least that little slice of the grand area that is poetry. If u really want to be a poet study poetry, read poetry, copy poetry until u find yer own voice...then sing...

dwain

it is against my better judgement, and kind of a no no on public forums, but i think in this case it may offer u some good, hang on to yer tits(something my wife used to say to one of her over endowed friends when they were out "runnin" wild driving back roads about to hit a bump), cause it will be painful and a poet needs to develop a thick skin when taking criticism.
see Workshop:


The thing i like best about deciphering Joanna's songs...i'm always wrong.
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Postby wiggle on 17 Mar 2012, 02:02



The Observations of a Little Boy As He Looks Through the Train Window

Sheeps!

It’s not sheeps.

Sheeps, mum!

It’s just ‘sheep.’

Sheeps!!

There’s no such thing as sheeps.

Sheeps, sheeps, sheeps!!!


…………...

………


…..


A cow, mum!

That’s right.

Two cow…



…Three cow



…Four cow…


My music/film/poetry/fiction blog:
http://www.thesensitivebore.blogspot.com
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Postby rainbowdash on 18 Mar 2012, 18:33



"Diner"
There is a man who visits the diner every night
he does not go in
he stands outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of the waitress, his “girl”
she works the late shift and the fluorescent lights buzz against the grease on the tables
her name is sometimes “rosey” sometimes “jackie” sometimes “florence”
he knows she is beautiful but he can’t remember her face
her hair hangs like yarn and her eyes look like they’ve been crying
when she is going to her car she looks back and forth and walks with brisk steps on the asphalt
she wears high heels
there are cracks and he waits for her to fall.


And he used to make me pray, wearing a mask like a death's head. When he put me there in the back seat, and he said, "Jesus save me, Jesus save me."
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Postby Jordan~ on 17 Apr 2012, 16:01



I wrote a Latin translation of Solidarity Forever, the union song, (for fun, practice and in case I ever get a time machine) ages ago, and translated it literally back into English.

Cum potestas unitatis operarios nutrit
Nusquam sub sole potestas antepollere possit;
Tamen quid potestas inferior illo uni est?
Sed caetus nos roberas!

CHORUS:
Solidarietas aeterna!
Solidarietas aeterna!
Solidarietas aeterna!
Et caetus nos roberas!

Quid est hirudinibus usquam sicut nobis?
Qui nos subigat servito calcatque saevitiis?
Quidquid absque estne nobis conferre et pugnare
Dum caetus nos roberas!

Chorus

Nos est qui arvis aratro laboraverunt;
Nobis basilicas mercatorum semper structus sunt;
Tanta opera posita: nunc fami abicimur,
Sed caetus nos roberas!

Chorus

Diciones magnae pigrarum scurrarum noster sunt.
Funda latissima labore nostro surrexerunt:
Nostra sunt quibus non servire sed regere,
Dum caetus nos roberas!

Chorus

Divitiae immensae indignae rapierunt,
Sed sine opera nostra nullae rotae verterunt.
Superare sua vires possumus et paramur
Quod caetus nos roberas!

Chorus

Manibus potestas maior sua ponitur
militbusque, maior immense quam illum robur.
E cinere mundi antiqui novum defingemus
Quod caetus nos roberas!

Chorus

(ENGLISH:

When the power of unity nourishes the workers,
Nowhere under the sun can a power surpass it;
But what power is lesser than that of one?
But the union makes us strong!

CHORUS:
Solidarity eternal!
Solidarity eternal!
Solidartiy eternal!
And the union makes us strong!

What anywhere is to us just as to the leeches?
Who would subjugate us into slavery and clap us in chains with savageries?
Is anything, whatever it be, for us apart from to come together and fight
while the union makes us strong?

Chorus

It is we who have worked the fields with ploughs;
By us have the basilicas of the merchants always been built;
Such great works laid down: now we are cast out in famine,
But the union makes us strong!

Chorus

The great domains of lazy dandies are ours.
The very wide foundations rose up by our work.
They are ours in which not to serve but to rule
While the union makes us strong!

Chorus

They have seized vast, undeserved riches
Yet without our work no wheels turn.
We are ready and able to overcome their strength
For the union makes us strong!

Chorus

In our hands is placed a power greater than theirs
And than soldiers, vastly greater than that strength.
From the ashes of the older world, we will fashion a new
For the union makes us strong!

Chorus)


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Postby queenofnerds on 18 Apr 2012, 20:20



Today I saw a man with one killer claw
But I can't tell you any more
Can't tell you of his murderous hand
Though you alone would understand
I think you get how I can be
Still dumb though you have set me free.
I know I can't turn a screw by hitting it
or make a stand from
where I sit
For 2 years I have stolen your ears
And I've filled um up full my heart brake and tears.

Ha!
Last edited by queenofnerds on 20 Apr 2012, 05:57, edited 2 times in total.


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby dwaink on 19 Apr 2012, 22:36



"or make a stand from where i sit"? i like this piece


The thing i like best about deciphering Joanna's songs...i'm always wrong.
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Postby queenofnerds on 20 Apr 2012, 05:54



No way! Thank you :D I shall correct....


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby wiggle on 08 May 2012, 21:19



Subseqent to Easter Monday


Opening the door, it’s the smell of stale grief
that greets me. As my eyes refocus, there’s dad,
fixed to the computer screen for I don’t know
how long. As he turns, unfamiliar ripples form
in his shirt. He breathes me a hello; knotted,
impersonal, like some stranger on a sound check.

I found two clues in the kitchen. The first,
a hotel booking, countered by a cancellation
number across its top. It was dad’s hand,
though wrought in a heavy biro that needed
throwing out. I accepted this: its prominence
there to make a point on the kitchen table.
But it was the second that concerned me more:
there – right there next to the sink – a packet
of McCoys, adjusted to its half-eaten limbo.


My music/film/poetry/fiction blog:
http://www.thesensitivebore.blogspot.com
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Postby queenofnerds on 24 Sep 2012, 21:06



Ok.... I'm doing it. I've had trouble sleeping so this happened.

When switching off my lights I swear I've seen the corner darkness creep,
So I have learnt the art of sleeping with peeping stars through clouds that sweep.
I'm starting to forget their names, and patterns charting, changing skies.
So subtly they drift and shift their feet from left to right. While I leave these unfinished stories,
little worries, the maps above change every night.


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby Ququuluru on 25 Sep 2012, 02:59



queenofnerds wrote:Ok.... I'm doing it. I've had trouble sleeping so this happened.

When switching off my lights I swear I've seen the corner darkness creep,
So I have learnt the art of sleeping with peeping stars through clouds that sweep.
I'm starting to forget their names, and patterns charting, changing skies.
So subtly they drift and shift their feet from left to right. While I leave these unfinished stories,
little worries, the maps above change every night.


Nice verse, Laura! The internal rhyming reminds me a bit of Joanna's style on Ys


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Postby queenofnerds on 25 Sep 2012, 05:45



:mrgreen:


And every little gust that chances through
Will dance in the dust of me and you
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Postby wiggle on 04 Oct 2012, 08:19



The Student Knock

Untroubled, unhurried,
Loyal to the knock,
Silent - they waited.

Time passed.

Should we go? I asked.
James turned, looked at me.
What for?
We haven’t spoken to them yet.
We’ve knocked, I said.
Yes.
And they’re not in.
He looked at Will,
Will turned, looked at me,
I looked back at Will,
Will turned to James.
I thought you said they’re BCU.
They are BCU, James said.
Will turned back to me,
Smiled, nodded.
They’re BCU.

Another knock.

They’re in, James said.
They’re BCU.
They’re always in.


My music/film/poetry/fiction blog:
http://www.thesensitivebore.blogspot.com
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Postby ribbonbows on 15 Oct 2012, 22:09



...
Last edited by ribbonbows on 10 Nov 2021, 20:58, edited 1 time in total.


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Postby dwaink on 16 Oct 2012, 02:29



is that link right? i get an error ribbon


The thing i like best about deciphering Joanna's songs...i'm always wrong.
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