The Poetry of Stardestroyer.Net

[Kuja]

You write limericks.

There once was a guy from Nantucket...

[haas mark]

It is actually a hard concept for me....I can't force a poem....I have to let it ....flow.... You make it sounder easier than it is!

Okay, it's not easy to do imagery-filled, metaphorical poetry. I'm not capable of hidden meaning and flow, bizzare imagery and the like which shows off the hidden textual face of human emotion. I write short rhyming stories about kid-eating ghoulies and women with large boobs.

LOL. But seriously, some people just have a different style of writing poetry. Limericks and short couplets and quatrains are good for beginners.

[Lagmonster]

You write limericks.

That's not something to be ashamed of, is it Kelly?


On an old web-board was a girl named Kel,
and all the lads were under her spell.
And though the lads were far away,
that girl named Kel called them out to play.
They smiled and laughed as she flirted and teased,
That girl named Kel they all fought to please.
And she's still at that board, that girl named Kel.
With all the lads still under her spell.

[Kelly Antilles]

Not at all.

[haas mark]

Very....interesting....variation of the Limerick. But good, no less! lol

[Shinova]

Kelly posting in this thread has inspired me to write this:

The Disparity of the Boys-to-Girls Ratio on Sci-Fi Message Boards

Onto a message board you login
And find yourself surrounded by boys,
You, one girl, in a world of boys.

How should you feel?
Should you feel at unease, worryful of
monsters like Azeron(Was it him?)
Is there something to being alone that
tears and rends at the gates of our emotion?
Wishing another was there, wishing to be un-one.

Or is being one like being one shining star in
a sea of just stars?
Even if one is only you, only you and nobody else to
shine beside you?

What is there to being a shining star?
Is it that you shine in a sea of isolated darkness,
Or is it that at least you shine while others can
be content as they are?

The disparity of the boys-to-girls ratio on sci-fi message boards,
How troubling it is.

How will you feel?

[Shinova]

In my way of writing poetry, I try to put in as many small "quirks", hidden or embedded themes.

Or I weave a huge theme with big impact, a theme that the whole poem is written out to convey to the reader.

Insomniac and the Kelly-inspired ones are like the ones filled with small themes, and you have to look for them. "The Heart of Darkness" is the one with one big central theme, and the whole poem supports that one theme.


There's that on how I write poetry. Not too detailed, yes, but I hope it helps.

[haas mark]

Shinova, you make me think of this (I am writing this on SD.net, so this is pure inspiration)

Poem 6A.

Shinova, the poet.
Writes pure inspiration.
Every little thing,
Every little thread,
Something to inspire him.

Every person,
Every comment,
Every new post
Will inevitably arouse
Something in his mind.

Every time Kelly or I
Or Iggy or Stravo
Or anyone else
Leaves a little snippet,
Shinova waits,
For his muse,
To tell him what
He will be writing next.

Shinova, the poet.

Writing inspiration
Is what he does.

Writing inspiration,
Doing as his muses ask.
Finishing the burden of the task.
Lifting, uplifting, praising, flattering.

That is Shinova.

SD.Net Official Poet.

[Shinova]

Even just a little bit

One word for the ears,
One short line for the eyes,
Whatever form it may take
Even just a little bit,
Can be the greatest thing.

----------------------------------

Thank you, verilon! Thank you, everyone! Thank you!

[haas mark]

Thank you, verilon! Thank you, everyone! Thank you!

You're welcome! And it is IMHO that you should be SD.Net Official Poet.

[Shinova]

That for a custom title would be great. The only problem would be if Wong allows it or not.

[haas mark]

That for a custom title would be great. The only problem would be if Wong allows it or not.

True...whenever your pc gets high enoguh, though...

[neoolong]

Since I've posted in nearly every other forum, I've decided to dig out my collection of Drunken Love Poetry Crap(TM). Yes it is crap. I post it so that people will tell me it is crap so that I will eventually be dismayed enough to never try again.

The Fight

The light is bright and the sweat cuts deep
I stand alone your honor to keep
He comes forward and his fist comes down
My face connects, my mouth a moan

The light is bright and the blood colors all
My sight is red, and I still feel the call
Your honor I hold within my fist
My fist comes up and yet I miss

I fall and he stays strong
Despite the honor I am the wrong
I try to stand and my knees nearly fail
Your smile is all and my spirit does sail

I am beaten and he is there
I have failed the maiden fair
Yet I see the loss too steep
So I rise into that bright light,
and the blood cuts deep


And on a lighter note here's something for the people in the cheap seats.



The Fool

Once there was a time
And in that time there was a mime
And with that mime lived a cat
Upon that cat there was a rat
And that rat said, you will talk
The mime replied, I will not balk
The cat exclaimed, Mime you did just fail
The mime thus realized and then did wail

The rat said that we have won
The mime did speak and now we are done

And if you read this pointless duel
Then that makes you the bigger fool

-HaHa

[haas mark]

Duuuuude. I love that first one, esp the half-rhyme in the first stanza and the broken rhyme in the last one.

And lol on the second one. But good poems, why do you think they are crap?

[neoolong]

Duuuuude. I love that first one, esp the half-rhyme in the first stanza and the broken rhyme in the last one.

And lol on the second one. But good poems, why do you think they are crap?

Because that way I lower people's expectations so that relatively speaking, they turn out good.

By the way, thanks.

[Shinova]

The poems aren't bad, neoolong.....I think

[Shinova]

Oh, and I think the first one's better.

[neoolong]

The poems aren't bad, neoolong.....I think

Thank you. Yours are good too.

Did you actually read the whole second one? Mu hahahahaha. Just kidding, that one was written on a lark and too much Dr. Seuss influence.

[haas mark]

Duuuuude. I love that first one, esp the half-rhyme in the first stanza and the broken rhyme in the last one.

And lol on the second one. But good poems, why do you think they are crap?

Because that way I lower people's expectations so that relatively speaking, they turn out good.

By the way, thanks.

lol...I didn't come in expecting them to be anything but poems. In fact, I hate it when someone tells me "it's crap." Besides, I am not going to judge a poem until I've read it. And to agree with Shinova, I like the first one better.

[Edi]

On writing poetry, here's my thoughts: I've never been able to write anything that I can't see first in my mind's eye, but just seeing isn't enough, there must be something else attached, emotion, mood or atmosphere. If you can get those into the picture, lock down the image, so to speak, then it's just a matter of shaping the words to match the image. At that point they can be forced, in the sense that you can try different ways of saying something until you find the one that fits, the line that feels just right. Oh, btw, I'm unable to write any poetry that doesn't rhyme.

A couple of examples of my work that reflect this approach:

Ravens are ugly, right? Scavengers with horrible voices, bad, evil and whatnot? I don't think so. Sure, they're not flashy like peacocks or all those colorful parrots, but they've got a beuty of their own, and their voices are way easier on the ears and even beautiful if you can appreciate them. But not all that many people see that. I've also got a friend who's always described herself as a crow or a raven, and she has been at times severely underappreciated by others. Well, I've seen ravens up close, and I certabily appreciate her friendship, so I wrote this one for her.

The Raven

They say there's no beauty in the Raven,
That it's a bird of ill omen, messenger of doom;
They would rather watch and hear a songbird,
Listen to its trill where the flowers bloom.

Shows they've never really seen a Raven,
Feathers gleaming like a rainbow;
Sunlight playing on the darkness,
Beauty more than enough to lay a songbird low.

They say the Raven cannot sing, but only croak;
Fools, for songs come in many kinds, not just one,
And there is beauty in the Raven's voice,
Just like dark feathers shine in the sun.

Fierce and wild is the Stormcrow,
Proud where the songbird is vain;
Never content being tamed or in a cage,
For the Raven such a fate would be pain.

To find the favor of the Raven, remember:
That black feathered bird, mischievous and clever,
Values respect, kindness and a heart true;
Showing those will make you a friend forever.


***********************

And which one of us hasn't had been rejected by the person who they thought of as their heart's chosen at that particular time? And who doesn't remember the feelings of devastation left in the wake of that rejection, the feeling that the world is surely going to end and nothing will ever be right again? And how perfectly ridiculous they look when you re-examine them after a few years? Well, I decided to write something about that one time, to try to portray it in images that would convey the feeling. You judge if it was any good.

Renewal

She comes in many shapes, She has no single form.
Like Her sister, the Sun, the soul Love can warm.
Ah! But so hard! So difficult to learn,
That if you fly too close, the feathers on your wings She will burn.

She'll become a raging inferno, like a poisoned arrowhead,
Scorching away all, shattering your heart, she leaves it dead.
A garden, once proud, the cradle of life and dreams of the just,
Is now a parched, barren desert full of strife, an endless plain of dust.

Until the sky fills with clouds, to weep a rain of Sorrow,
A downpour of agony, that lasts until the morrow;
The clouds scatter, rain ends, the earth's a field of mud,
Drowned, cleaned and scoured, washed by the waters of the flood.

But the seemingly dead garden, like the desert after rain,
Shall from the seeds of springtime bloom... dissipate the pain,
Growing grass and flowers, till on some morning wet with dew,
You'll see Her dancing in the meadow, the cycle starts anew!

*************************

Oh, and by the way, I will damn well contest anybody's claim to the title of Official SD.net Poet! I'm not letting that slip by without a fight, even if I have to post all of my poems here! (Not that there are too many of them or anything, I'd probably run out sooner than Shinova...)

Edi

[haas mark]

On writing poetry, here's my thoughts: I've never been able to write anything that I can't see first in my mind's eye, but just seeing isn't enough, there must be something else attached, emotion, mood or atmosphere. If you can get those into the picture, lock down the image, so to speak, then it's just a matter of shaping the words to match the image. At that point they can be forced, in the sense that you can try different ways of saying something until you find the one that fits, the line that feels just right. Oh, btw, I'm unable to write any poetry that doesn't rhyme.

I think you just summed up writing poetry, my friend.

A couple of examples of my work that reflect this approach:

Ravens are ugly, right? Scavengers with horrible voices, bad, evil and whatnot? I don't think so. Sure, they're not flashy like peacocks or all those colorful parrots, but they've got a beuty of their own, and their voices are way easier on the ears and even beautiful if you can appreciate them. But not all that many people see that. I've also got a friend who's always described herself as a crow or a raven, and she has been at times severely underappreciated by others. Well, I've seen ravens up close, and I certabily appreciate her friendship, so I wrote this one for her.

I know exactly what you mean...the Raven is one of the most extraordianry birds, and one of the most appealing to myself. If I had to choose a bird to describe me, it would have to be the Raven.

<snip>

And which one of us hasn't had been rejected by the person who they thought of as their heart's chosen at that particular time? And who doesn't remember the feelings of devastation left in the wake of that rejection, the feeling that the world is surely going to end and nothing will ever be right again? And how perfectly ridiculous they look when you re-examine them after a few years? Well, I decided to write something about that one time, to try to portray it in images that would convey the feeling. You judge if it was any good.[/quote]

It is not our job to judge your works; if you like it, that's what matters. But if you insist, I liked it very much. It was very good...a bit enigmatic, but good nonetheless.

Oh, and by the way, I will damn well contest anybody's claim to the title of Official SD.net Poet! I'm not letting that slip by without a fight, even if I have to post all of my poems here! (Not that there are too many of them or anything, I'd probably run out sooner than Shinova...)

Edi

lol. I think it's quality that matters, rather than quantity...and we shall see....we shall see...

[His Divine Shadow]

For the little ones whom you hold dear shall curse
you and be repulsed by the thing that the ball of lead
has transfigured you to be

Uhh, thats really horrible, the kids will curse the cat?
Thats beyond horrible, I would never do that to my cat if it lost an eye, infact I'd get my shotgun and find the person responsible.

[Shinova]

I'm gonna try writing something severely dark. Here goes:


A Knife to Happiness

I have lines across my wrists,
My mother six feet under, and my
father swimming in an endless sea of beer.
My brother always looks for new veins in his arms,
And my sister goes to work in some shady place,
And has had three abortions already.

I think I see hope,
Over on the other side of that fence,
And all the happy...so happy kids like my age
Or younger or older.
They can play with her,
But I can't I guess.

I do have one friend though;
His name is knife, and I cradle him lovingly
in my hand, his beautiful silver skin glinting as the
sunlight shines down on his face.
A sunlight that has never shone for me.

He is my first and last friend.
I think I'll share my heart with him.

Heart, say hello to knife,
And knife, say hello to heart.

The two say hello and come close,
And swimming in a sea of red,
They embraced.

Oh how beautiful their love is.

[Shinova]

For the little ones whom you hold dear shall curse
you and be repulsed by the thing that the ball of lead
has transfigured you to be

Uhh, thats really horrible, the kids will curse the cat?
Thats beyond horrible, I would never do that to my cat if it lost an eye, infact I'd get my shotgun and find the person responsible.

That part and the part that follows is actually talking about how most people will often judge others by their outer appearances. The cat has lost an eye and the kids, like typical humans, will shoo it away because it looks ugly.

This isn't always the case, but that was the theme behind that poem in that portion.

[haas mark]

Shinova.....that last poem.....very touching and moving. Especially since I felt that way at one point in my life. It surprised me, I thought it would be more about cutting than about suicide in the way you showed it. I am glad now that I didn't do what I wanted to so long ago......and this poem just reinforces why...