Heh...it seems my small poetry thread here was deleted during the attack. Oh well.



Anyway...(considering that I'm sometimes obssessed w/the subj. of death)...I've decided to write another poem. (This...by far has got to be the best one I've written on the subject).



Death & Dying:



Death?such a scary fate & reality

And a hard way to accept.



We wish for our loved ones to be with us forever

But we know that cannot be.



We sometimes think life is unfair,

Yet it?s a lesson we have to learn.



It comes unexpectedly; we hardly notice it?s there,

Some people think it?s nothing, they really don?t care.



Yet once it happens, we can?t stop it,

The realization, the shock, the news?is just too much to bear.



We?re filled with a sense of emptiness & grief,

Like a stab through the heart, like our lives are incomplete.



Yet through the grief & despair comes a ray of hope

A hope to see them again, someday.



Death is like parting, but it won?t be forever

So don?t feel down & keep grieving.



Instead, remember them for all the good they?ve done,

How they impacted your lives.



Memories are your partner now; they?ll never die,

And even though they?re not with us physically, but in spirit?



There?s always a special place for them in our hearts.

I liked it Yuki-san =)



I'm not much of a poet (far cry, actually) so I can't really give any constructive criticism. Keep writing though!

Anyway...here's another one I've made:



Falling Leaves:



There goes another leaf falling from the branches of an old tree

Changing color throughout the seasons, falling to the ground

It covers it all around

It shrivels up as it gets to fall,

And renews itself in the spring

It clings to the branch whenever the winds blow strong

And sometimes floats in the air or stumbles when being carried by the wind



And as soon as the wind stops, it falls everywhere

But sometimes it's dehydrated when there's noth enough water to help replenish it.

There goes another leaf, from the branches of antoehr tree, changing & falling.

It kind of has the same theme of death, but uses the changing of the seasons as a metaphor for life. Those of us that believe in the afterlife see spring as the same renewal after our own winter of death.

Heh...sou ne. (thinks: No wonder I'm a bit obssessed w/that subject).

Kewl poems, Yuki-san. Speaking of leaves (Falling Leaves ) I wrote this one poem about Autumn, 'cuz it's my favorite season. Here it is: (hope it's okay if I post it here )

The Beauty of Autumn

O! For the beauty and wonder of all!
O! For the colors on leaves in the Fall!
How blessed and magical all of it seems,
When even it fills our quietest dreams.

O! For the mist in the bright, early morn'!
O! For the beauty I still have to learn!
The enchantment, the glory, the look on your face.
The magical moments that make my heart race!

O! For the beauty when Autumn is here!
O! For the wait until it comes next year.
How sweet are the moments in Autumn, fair!
If only this season were not quite so rare.

O! For the beauty and wonder of all!
O! For the colors on leaves in the fall!
How blessed and magical all of it seems,
When even it fills our quietest dreams.

Presea, that's wonderful. Do you know the meter that you use? (it's wonderful how each line is in the same meter) I can't pinpoint it at the moment...I also like your rhyme scheme. As for the subject, there's this sense of yearning that is well expressed through the exclamation points and word choice. Overall great.

I can't post any of my poetry here because either one, I don't want it to be seen, or two, I don't have anything to post. I'll get back to it later, but I normally write on the spot...

Hey guys. Haven't posted in this one for a while.

Here's one that I created a few weeks ago. I think of it as interesting to write something on this particular topic.

Rage:

Anger, such a harsh word
Yet easy to let out at others

It?s like a raging beast being caged in
But cannot be kept in for long

Or like a time bomb
Slowly ticking away

We sometimes have control over it
And times we don?t

There are times we just feel like we want to vent
Other times hit something or yell to express our anger

Some have it temporarily
Others?have it longer

They say to be angry is to be human
And there are times people fear you because of it

We?re told not to kill
Because it first starts with anger

When is enough going to be enough?

Do we really control the anger within?
Or does it control us?

Wow, it had been more than a year since anyone had posted anything in here. I'm awful at writing poetry myself so I'll not force anyone to endure it ... it even makes Vogons cringe ... v_v

I wish that I knew that you could write so well Presea-chan, because I would've asked to see your stuff much sooner. Your poem gives me a feeling of calmness and contentment, yet also a sense of something missing, like Kyouka-chan said, a longing for something more. The execution is utterly flawless Presea-chan and very professionally done! Nice work! You'd get an A+ from me if I were an English teacher ... well I'm not ... in case you didn't know ... ;;

Yuki-san's is much different and the feelings that I get are quite the opposite of Presea-chan's. Some of your metaphors are really wonderful for describing rage as raw emotion, hiding just beneath the surface. Rage really seems like that to me and all that it takes is a tiny little disturbance, a wrong word at the wrong time to set it free upon an unsuspecting victim. A good question at the end as well.

Thanx, you guys. I had always wanted to use the whole "O!" thing in a poem before, so I finally got my chance to do it in that poem. hehe Oh, and Yuki-san, you're Rage poem is good. It really describes rage well--especially that one line at the end:

Do we really control the anger within?
Or does it control us?

Nice work!

Ah, there we go, I found the ripped out pages of my journal, but don't wanna post the poems I wrote. ^^;;

Anyway, I like using "O" also, and it's all thanks to Latin class. XD

"O natura! mundi pulchrum!" etc. etc. ^^

Here's another one I just made the day before yesterday:

A Snowy Night

Outside my window, cold and dreary
Snow is falling, soft and weary.

Frost adorns the window panes
And ice cords dangle from the frames.

Across the street, a snowman stands,
A sturdy broom clutched in his hands.

He does not seem to mind the weather,
As Autumn fades into the nether.

Embracing cold, while darkness reigns,
He gazes on the snowy plains.

Where snow and ice enfold the hills
And all is frozen, cold and still.

This wintry scene has me entranced,
Though it was meant a simple glance.

I lingered far too long on this;
This winter scene of snowbound bliss.

So through the glowing candlelight,
I bid goodbye this snowy night.

I'm prolly going to make a poem for all the seasons. In case you couldn't tell, this one's for Winter.

Very nice, Presea.

Your rhyming technique is very good.

Here's another that I've written yesterday:

Heartache:

A familiar pain we feel when there?s a breakup
Or when parting seems imminent.

Such a thing is difficult to handle
Sometimes even beyond our control.

There are times we have to accept the fact that it will occur no longer
Other times we have a sense of hope.

A nearly endless struggle that most lovers & couples face
When relationships get rocky or slowly crumble
Yet it?s the aftermath that creates the real struggle

The pain is so intense we wonder if we?ll be able to find love again
Or were we ever meant to.

Yet we always have a sense of longing & yearning to be with that person
No matter the time that has passed

However?

Will we ever find that same feeling that was once cherished long ago?
Or will we be forever suffering in this continuous cycle of pain, sadness, & longing to be loved again chain?

It's cooies, Yuki-san. You know what I've noticed while writing poems? It's really important, and seems to leave a better impact if you have a steady rhythm going throughout the poem. Sometimes it's soooooo hard to keep up that steady rhythm, though! Also, it always seems so hard for me to find words that rhyme and still go along with the rhythm! I'm serious! You wouldn't believe how long it took me to find a rhyme for this line:

Embracing cold, while darkness reigns,
He gazes on the snowy plains.

It took me forever to think of plains to rhyme with reigns. And, technically, it doesn't even really rhyme! It's a 'slant rhyme'. Anyhoo, I'm ramblin' here, so I'd better stop before I get too far.

I would actually think "reigns" and "plains" to rhyme, since we basically have the same sound, simply spelled differently... In the slant rhyme I've seen, it's normally the ending consonant sound that differs (though the last sound is most likely to be of the same "family" thingy like nasal, fricative, labial, etc.) or an obvious vowel difference...like...

It was not 'til evening that he came,
Walking, weary 'cross the plain.

...in which I believe that "m" and "n" are both nasal sounds in English. Or in terms of vowel slant...

A very circle this one ain't,
'Tis a single line to itself but bent.

Note that "very" is an older way to say "true" (comes from Latin "verus"). "Ai" and "e" come from about the same formation of the tongue, and I believe can be considered slant rhyme in poetry analyzation.

At least that's how I understand slant rhyme. Might be wrong. XD (And...yeah, I made both up just now. X.x)

Yeah, I s'spose that's a more accurate description of a slant rhyme. Have u ever considered writin' poetry, Kyouka-san? You'd prolly be pretty good.

Yeah, I write little things here and there. I normally use very free verse, with no constant meter or rhyme scheme...it's been a while since I've written something though. I'll post if I come up with something. ^^

Coolies. I like your new username. It seems to... fit better.

Oh, thanks. ^^ It's my old username, that I kind of stopped going to after I disappeared from the board for a really long time...when I came back I was using Kyouka-chan (I had temporarily forgotten my password, and remembered it right after Kyouka-chan was created XDD), then 'cause I didn't want to just get rid of the thing Harken made for me, I just switched back to Shirotatsu and put my new signature/avatar set here. ^^

smart!

*sighs*. I haven't been here in a long time. Anyways...just wanted to put up 2 of my current works.

Here's the first one:

My Inspiration, My Hero:

They say heroes come in all shapes & sizes
And is an inspiration to others.
They do deeds big or small,
The main point is to make a difference in the world,
But usually they make a difference in someone?s life.

I remembered the time my grandmother used to sometimes visit me
I was very small back then, however sick throughout my time
She spoiled me sometimes, but also supported me through my rough times.
She taught me & told me the importance of prayer,
And I try my best to understand that importance.

As time passed, I would sometimes wonder how she is doing
And I remembered the first time I visited my hometown
Being able to see my people, and I got a totally new perspective
I heard from my mom on how my grandmother was so generous
How she used her time to help the poorest of the poor.

Now?as I reflect on her story, I remembered the time she struggled
How she fought through her tough battles, from her work and faith in God
Yet she never showed any fear of dying, as she lay in her hospital bed.
As I think back, her story gave me courage and inspired me to help others.
That is why she is my inspiration, and why she is also my hero.

And the second:

Raindrops:

Cold & damp it was, I sit & ponder
Staring at clouds, with different shades of gray
As time passes, my mind starts to wander
Thoughts drifted back to one particular day.
I hit reply, to an e-mail she had sent
A chance to say I miss her & like her
I start to sweat as time came & went
As I read the words, it looked like a blur.
Worry clouded my mind, I could not explain
She wants to stay friends, I could not comprehend
A pang in the heart, I knew well this pain.
That?s past, as I look at raindrops on the street
Thinking of the right girl I would hope to meet.

This...is a very imaginative piece that I explained to Yuki-san as being a "poem" that tries to express feeling with sounds only. The two stanzas in English are just me when I got really tired of making up random syllables...and to insert what should be felt at that time in the poem. The first English stanza introduces a conflict. The second English stanza almost acts as if the conflict never happened, since the conflict itself is resolved in the sixth stanza (ashana, ashana, etc).

If anyone wonders what the accents are for, they're there to indicate emphasis on that particular syllable. The meter of the gibberish is made of dactyls (stressed-unstressed-unstressed), trochees (stressed-unstressed) and iambs (unstressed-stressed), with the last line as close to trochee, trochee, dactyl as possible. The English stanzas have no real meter, though one should be able to feel the rhythm.

I know it won't make too much sense, but I really wanted to experiment with my idea of feeling without (real) words and this is what came of it:

"Words are not enough" (or "?nnara, ?nnara" or "Girl by the Lakeside")

?nnara, ?nnara, ?nn'asono
Ts?vuye, ts?vuye, ?t! tasuyo.
S?yari, s?yari, h?p'? pururo?
Haasa, haasa, haasa, o.

P?lulo, p?lulo, ?~ rifuro
?ttana, ?ttana, ?! ma-iro!
M?-iro, m?-iro, m?? m-m-mo?
Haasa, haasa, haasa, o.

?nnira, ?nnira, ?nn'isuya
S?vuye, s?vuye, ?t! dasuyo.
S?yari, s?yari, h?a? uyuwa?
Aasa, aasa, aasa, yo.

Oh! It's so beautiful, the way the two dance!
How I wish I could join them in such a gay prance.
But you know by the lakeside, there seems an old lance
Of a branch, to be there, to put an end to their trance.

S?yari, s?yari, krk! aruro!
K?shara, k?shara, w?! pururo.
T?ruye, t?ruye, n?? ikuho~?
Aasa, haasa, aasa, oyo.

?shana, ?shana, h?~ rururo
H?haya, h?haya, h?! kiriyo.
K?riro, k?riro, ?i? yasono?
Haasa, aasa, haasa, oyo.

?nnara, ?nnira, ?nn'isono!
S?vuye, ts?vuye, at! dasuyo.
S?yari, s?yari, h?p'? pekuro?
?saha, ?saha, ?saha, yo.

And so is the story of the two who did meet,
By the lakeside, indeed, far away from the street.
Did you know, did you know? That to her, 'twas a treat?
Yes, today was the day that she met her dear sweet.

The sky is brown.
The sky is the ground.
To the sky I am bound.
In the sky...
In this sky I'll never be found.

Hi guys. Just came up with another poem. This time, it's an ode. Not sure if there are many familiar with this type, but one poet as an example would be John Keats.

Anyway...this is what mine is on:

Ode to My Mother:

I:

Thou hast watched over me since I was born
Even though tiring & difficult, you never stopped praying
Despite my difficulties and trials, this bond was hardly torn
It was you that stood outside the ER waiting
You said I was your miracle
You overcame many barriers & went through many trials
You always cared for me, despite me being small
You made me laugh whenever your reaction looked hysterical
I was your only child for a while
You always told me to try and pick myself up when I fall.

II:

When I was weak, you made me strong
You told me to keep going at it, even though I was tired
You were patient at times with me, and explained what I did wrong
It was your words that got me inspired.
Even though I had a problem, you were there to lend a hand.
And there were times I had you concerned
As I progressed, I knew you had for me many expectations
Even though I was sometimes clumsy, and things sometimes don?t go as planned.
You told me I should always try & continue to learn
In order to do that I had to have a lot of time & dedication.

III:

Now that I?m older, I know that you have had much strife
Having to take care of me & my brother
And showing me the importance of life
You were special to me, and are like no other
You told me I could always do better
That I should try and go the extra mile
When I was stressed, you told me to do my best
Your words I try to remember
Though I had to be reminded once in a while
Thanks a lot mom, you?re always the greatest.

Hey guys. Here's another one I've made.

Outcasts:

A person that is shunned from society
Sometimes they feel ignored.

Some of us know they have their reasons for being away from society
And some want to be accepted by society for who they are, not what they are

They are people we don?t see very often
Yet we know they are there.

They are sometimes looked down upon, scolded, leered at, made fun of
And very few do a thing about it.

Very few discuss about it, but we seldom acknowledge them
Unless there are some of us that were once like that

People that are overweight, have physical deformities, are gay
Why do we sometimes exclude them out of society?

Why are we focused too much on ourselves & yet not help them?
Is it hard to accept one who?s an outcast? Are they not like us? Human beings?

The least we can do?is try to do so.

A poem written for a noble cause. I'll give it that.

Here's another ode that I've made. This time...to honor teachers.

Ode to a Teacher:

Teachers prepare us for what lies ahead
Helping us every step of the way.

Each has a different personality
As well as different methods of teaching.

Teachers try to help us learn from our mistakes
They care for their students.

They always offer assistance
To help us succeed in what we do.

Teachers show concern for those with problems
Letting students know they care

Teachers encourage us to learn something new
So that we may continue to grow

And they love what they teach

But teachers can only show us the door
We have to open it and walk through.

And even though there are times we tend to drive teachers nuts
We should still appreciate the time they put to help us learn.

Because without them?we?d be lost.

I learned about a style of poetry today in class called the villanelle (go to Wikipedia if you don't know what it is) and immediately fell in love with it because of its complex style. I have yet to write one of my own, but I have written a translation of Thomas Hardy's "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night" into Latin. (A friend of mine suggested I write my first in Latin, but I can't think right now...). So, my translation of the poem.

Noli tu ire facile in noctem bonam illam,
Senectus arsura et saevitura est pavoris fine;
Fure, fure contra morientem auroram.

Etsi sapientes viri fine sciunt caligonem esse rectam,
Cum dicta nullas ignes iniecissent ei
Non eunt facile in noctem bonam illam.

Boni, ultima unda fracta, clamantes illustrius quam
Fragilia facta possisent in verido laco saltare,
Furunt, furunt contra morientem auroram.

Feri viri qui solem rapiunt cantantque in fugam,
Et discunt, nimium sero, se dolere eam itinere,
Non eunt facile in noctem bonam illam.

Graves viri, morientes, qui vident caecis oculis eam
Caeci oculi potuit ardere ut faciunt faces sunt laetique,
Furunt, furunt, contra morientem auroram.

Tuque, pater meus, ibi triste altitudine iam,
Exsecrare, benedice, me nunc, oro, flendo atroce.
Noli tu ire facile in noctem bonam illam,
Fure, fure contra morientem auroram.

I checked on the explanation of this type of poetry writing...and all I can say is...wow.

Now, the task is mine to write one. ^^

...I have a number of ideas, either I talk about Aeneas difficulty with his mother Venus, or what Aeneas ought to do with the Sibyl's orders, or just some other piece of emotion I have hidden in that mind of mine...

Anyway...just came up with another poem a few minutes ago.

War:

Such a terrible thing, war is.
Sometimes used as a last resort.

Full of anger & rage on both sides.
Always seeing the other as an enemy.

There are intentions that are good, and those that are bad.
Then there are those that have no meaning at all.

Bombs howling, guns firing.
People yelling, people dying.

Their lives are forever changed.
The memory will never fade.

The sheer tragedy & unexplainable horror
Forever etched into the minds of those in battle.

The pain indescribable, the grief unbearable.
Soldiers who watch their comrades die.

Those who can hardly imagine it.
And those that don?t want to even try & describe it.

What point is there to fighting?
Why even do so at all?

What is there to achieve in war?
What is trying to be proven?

Is it not true that hatred breeds more hatred?
Then why even show it?

Who is our real enemy? The one causing problems?

Or is it ourselves?

What is more important? The war outside?

Or the war within us?

Lots of rhetorical questions there...

So here's my first of such villanelles.

"On the True Origin of Epic Poetry"

Through thee, thou Muse Calliope,
Yes, along with the great Vergils and Homers, your media,
We men have composed through aweful poesy.

Often, you know, modern men cannot see
The beauty and wonder made in such artistic phenomena
Through thee, thou Muse Calliope.

Such things like Aeneas "prithee" said he,
To the Sibyl in Cumae about the journey to Tartara
We men have composed through aweful poesy.

And others like men and perils and many a journey,
They'll start at the beginning, no, in re media
Through thee, thou Muse Calliope.

Ah, you must see that the insane are many,
Whe'er crazed by composition or reading the loca
We men have composed through aweful poesy.

But you know we live in modern times truly
And I, like many, not polytheistic, know it is not vera
Through thee, thou Muse Calliope,
We men have composed through aweful poesy.

Notes:
Since there are only two rhymes in the poem, those ending in the vowel sound "ee" and the other in "a," it was necessary to use some Latin words - the last usage is incorrect, but who cares?
1. Media - the plural of Latin "medium," or one who is spoken through by the gods, etc. Think of a psychic medium = fortune-teller.
2. Phenomena - the plural of Greek "phenomenon."
3. Tartara - a Latin word for Hades.
4. In re media - a singularized version of Latin "In medias res," meaning "in the midst of things."
5. loca - a Latin word meaning "passages of literature."
6. Vera - true; actually, it should be verum, but because English words are really genderless, I'll choose the grammatical gender of the Latin word as I like.
7. Hopefully, you know that "awful" originally meant "full of awe," or "awe-inspiring." In order to distinguish between the modern interpretation "horrible" or "bad," I have written it as "aweful."

Here's another war poem that I wrote:

Middle East:

A country that has many conflicts
Its inhabitants have different ideals.

Muslims & Jews, two different religions
Their ideals in disarray

They have different views on issues
Which constantly clash at each other

Americans try to lend a hand
Yet there are terrorists that hate their ideals

What is with the wars raging there?
Why do they hate Americans so?

Why do they refuse to let Americans help out?
What makes their government get out of hand?

What causes them to turn on each other?
What gives them so much anger & hatred?

Why are we fighting a war that has no meaning?
That?s what it seems to be in the Middle East.

Hi guys. Here's another poem I wrote:

Sakura:

Its branches sway gently in the breeze
The petals falling gracefully on the ground
Slowly winter comes to an end
A sign that spring is around the corner
Have you ever seen something so profound?

Beautiful during the day
Even more during the night
Such elegance, such beauty
What power it has to leave one speechless
Have you ever seen a more wonderful sight?

Sometimes has a meaning for romance
As I watch a petal fall slowly to my palm
The scenery just leaves you in surprise and awe
Just looking at them
It makes me feel somewhat calm.

As the sun sets and I take my leave
I take one last look at the cherry blossoms, and feel at ease
Being able to see them
This memory I will not forget
As the cool air brushes upon me from the night?s breeze.

Here's another that I made a couple of days ago:

Journey?s Beginning and End:

A Journey has a Beginning and End
Full of its own comings and goings
How this concludes is how we choose to spend

As a child, we are innocent and carefree
Enjoying life and having fun
Our eyes are filled with glee

As we continue to progress, we all carry a different load
Having to make certain choices as we grow
On what path to take, looking at a diverged road

We become surprised on how fast time went
While we go on with our lives
We also wonder if our time was well spent

Time starts to change, as we get older
Yet we sometimes like to look back through the years past
And when times get rough, we all need a shoulder

A Journey has a Beginning and End
We?re told to live life to the full, with no regrets
How this concludes is how we choose to spend

Shiro-kun...I know you told me before to not double-post, but...couldn't help it.

Remember when you told me of that Villanelle poem structure...well...after some thought...I've finally come pu with one of my own.

How great is a Father?s Care:

How great is a father?s care
One that shows compassion and concern for their child
Trying his best to always be there

A father tries to comfort their child when filled with despair
To show how much they love them
How great is a father?s care

A father tries to show the child what is supposed to be fair
By trying to set a good example for them
Trying his best to always be there

A father tries to tell the child the importance of prayer
And how having faith in God is important
How great is a father?s care

A father tries to teach the child how to prepare
To help them try and succeed in life
Trying his best to always be there

Dad, I know you always tell me that I should always not compare
I?m glad to be your son and for that I?m grateful
How great is a father?s care
Trying his best to always be there.

(By the way, double posting doesn't matter anymore. This board is way too slow to reasonably follow that rule all the time.)

Now I must tell you that it is quite an effort; I praise your work. Unfortunately, it is but an imitation of a villanelle, and not a fully developed villanelle. If anything, I can call it a semi-villanelle. There's a reason the villanelle fascinates people - it's quite difficult to create. Not only is there the matter of rhyming lines 1-3-4-6-7-9-10-12-13-15-16-18-19, and 2-5-8-11-14-17, but there's also the matter of making sure the repetition of lines 1 and 3 as the ending of each stanza creates a certain feeling unique to each stanza. Here are the first two stanzas of your poem:

How great is a father's care
One that shows compassion and concern for their child
Trying his best to always be there

A father tries to comfort their child when filled with despair
To show how much they love them
How great is a father's care

One of the reasons it's hard is that there are only two rhymes per villanelle, which is set up in the first stanza. That means that, according to your first stanza, the two rhymes you wished to use were the sounds "air" and "aild," the second being fairly unwieldy in poetry. Yes, "care" rhymes with "there" rhymes with "despair" and rhymes with "care," again, but "child" does not rhyme with "them." In comparison, here are the first two stanzas of my poem:

Through thee, thou Muse Calliope,
Yes, along with the great Vergils and Homers, your media,
We men have composed through aweful poesy.

Often, you know, modern men cannot see
The beauty and wonder made in such artistic phenomena
Through thee, thou Muse Calliope.

In mine, I decided to use the rhymes "ee" and "a." "Calliope" rhymes with "poesy" rhymes with "see" and rhymes with "Calliope," again, as well as "media" rhyming with "phenomena." In comparison again is Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night." In this poem, the rhymes are night-light-right-bright-flight-sight-height. The second line of each stanza ends in the same sound as well: day-they-bay-way-gay-pray.

Since there are nineteen lines in villanelle, the rhyme scheme should go like this:
ABA-ABA-ABA-ABA-ABA-ABAA.

So as an example (I'm just rewriting it):
How great is a father's care
One that shows compassion and concern for his child
Trying his best to always be there

A father tries when they're filled with despair
To show them his love with a few words most mild;
How great is a father's care.

At best, perhaps, you've copied the style, but haven't nailed it. It's up to you whether to revise it so that it works, or to keep and I don't know what you'd call it. Still, unlike mine, it conveys an emotion, something much more valuable than talk of Calliope. Depending on what way you understand the words in my poem, you can discover either a hatred for poetry or my love for it - but you can figure where I might have implied such a thing on your own.

I suppose I could try and revise it...but...not sure as to how.

Anyway...I wrote up a poem in regards to senior year.

Memories of Senior Year:

They say that the end of one journey,
Is the start of another.
Such is the case of the senior year.

Being crazy & rowdy
Staying bored and lazy
That?s how it is with ?senioritis?.

It?s our final year in high school
A set of mixed emotions fills us
That?s how most of us feel as that day draws near.

Our last chance to spend time with friends
Our last few tests to face
Then comes that exit interview

Friends come and go in our lives,
But the memories that we have of them don?t leave.

As time goes by, we should take time to look back
Over the accomplishments made throughout the year.

So while we?re still young, enjoy these last few moments
Because spending it with your best friends
And cherishing them is what makes this year worthwhile.

As we will go our separate ways and take different paths
And then that time we come back for reunion

One thing is for certain?

The memories that we have of high school will never fade away
But remain alive in our minds and hearts.

I wouldn't have ever guess it would be you that I told all my dark secrets to.
I would never have dream we could be such good friends.
And I hope we stay this way to the end.
Never will I ever let you push me aside.
Cause for you I would lay down and die.
No sexual relationship in between us.
But for you I have lots of love.
We shared laugher and we shared tears.
We been through a lot over the years.
Some were good some were bad.
But I would not trade nothing for the times we've had.
I wish I could take away all your hurt and pain you hold inside.
To dry your eyes from the tears you cried.
I would give anything to see you smile again.
I wish the best for you my friend.
I believe in the person that you have become.
And I have a lot of faith in you.
I know you can do anything you put your mind to.
If you ever need a helping hand.
I will always do what I can.
No longer the boy I met.
But a young man trying to do the best in life that he can.
And I will always stand behind you when you try something new.
Whether you fails or makes it though.
Cause that?s what good friends does and that is what I'll do.
I will for ever be there for you.

hehe i thought this was a very nice poem i found on the internet

hope you enjoyed ^^

This is a good poem you found Kagura-chan. Do you remember where it was from?

This is just one of the latest poems that I managed to come up with recently.

One Life:

What is it about life that makes it so mysterious?
What is it about life that makes it so beautiful?

What makes life so fragile?
What makes life so compelling?

Is it the wonders of the world or perhaps the boundless intricate creatures that inhabit the Earth?

Life can be precious and beautiful at the same time
From the blossoming of a flower, to the birth of a newborn child

Yet there are times life is also taken for granted
In this technological modern world, constant worries plague this planet.

Some people have the luxury of time, others don?t.

But for those that does, why not enjoy and notice the beauty and simplicity of nature?
Like walking through a forest, or smelling flowers?

Just as humans come and go in this world
So to does time and life.

Life is precious and limited. How would one choose to spend it?

Going through the worries of the world?
Or try and cherish the moments that are given?

To think on what lies ahead?
Or to try and make the best of what time is given?

Life is short, don?t waste it on the worries of the world or throw it away.

Just as time can be limited, so to is life.
How can a person cherish life if not to try and live it to the full?

Because don?t we all have one life to live?

Snowflakes are frozen memories.




Did you know?
Snowflakes are frozen memories.
Forgotten dreams,
Falling slowly,
To the ground.
Someday they will melt,
And be swept away
By the current of time.
They will merge together,
To form the Lake of Broken Dreams.
But somehow the warmth of love
Will help them evaporate,
And they will once again
Float in the sky.

Eh, why not? This is a poem I had created in the beginning of the last school year. It's about the sunset or the evening, unless you see something else.

Hmm...very interesting, Itena-chan.

Anyway...I just came up with this poem while reading the latest transliterated chapter of Vampire Knight volume 9 online. (Tried to make it from Kiryuu Zero's POV)

Sono Kao, Sono Chairoi Hitomi (That Face, Those Eyes)

I know I should hate her
For what she has now become
Yet even as she stands there before me
With my gun pointing at her?

Memories of her before that time
Still lurk within my mind.

Memories of her smile, her kindness
Memories of her gentle, caring heart.

Why can?t she just kill me to get it over with?
She has a more important task to deal with.
Yet, she still decides to stay by my side.
That gaze, that expression?

So sincere, unwavering
It still hasn?t changed.

Why does it bother me so?
What is causing me to feel so much anger towards her?

Is it because of that pureblood that with her?
Is it because another one of those pureblood beasts appeared again?

Or is it that pureblood who has taught her to have a gentle, caring heart towards all of us?

I realized that I?m no longer human?a beast in human form, just like them.

The problem isn?t with her?it?s with myself.
It?s those arms that I can never seek that prevent me from leaving.
Sooner or later, my fears might come to pass, and she will eventually fear me.
But even still?how will I ever be able to forget?

Will I ever be able to forget?the past?
Or am I just a prisoner?

A prisoner that recalls that face?and those brown eyes.

That face and those eyes that gaze that is so sincere and unwavering
Which has never ceased to give me strength.

She makes me feel safe that it feels cruel?
And even as she stands in front of me, scythe in hand
With my gun pointed at her?

Her gaze?sincere and unwavering as before, as she looks at me?

It?s as though nothing has changed.

Difference Between Dreams and Reality

When I close my eyes, there's something that I see...
A wonderful dream because you're there with me
A glorious day for I hoped that never ends,
Since I was standing next to one of my dearest friends.

Then I look in my heart to see what's inside...
I look deeper and deeper, and find you by my side.
I think to myself, can this be really true?
Then I wonder, what's it mean to you?

My eyes only open for a short, little trice;
I lose my favorite dreams, and my heart is like ice.
I close my eyes once more and no one was there.
It was just me sitting in my lonely chair.

Does going away really that big of a change
That makes us so distant and out of range?
In my heart, I guess it seems
That meeting you was just in my dreams.

Written by me

It's very pretty and delightfully bittersweet Haine-chan. Very nice work.

Why thankyou Shii-chan...I can call you that cant I??

Oh yes, you're very welcome to call me Shii-chan.

Last Minute:

As I lay bedridden with wires attached to me, I keep thinking of how I had spent my life
The only sounds within my room are the beeps of the machine and my breathing.

There is very little light within the room
The only light source being the one on the ceiling and the lamp beside my bed

My mind wanders aimlessly with thoughts of the past, present, and a possible future if there is one
My heart aches not from physical pain, but from the list of regrets that I have within me.

As the minutes tick by, so does my life
A life that I tried to live to the full, only now is it hanging by a thread.

I feel that there is more that I want to do with the remainder of my life
Yet I have not the strength to move.

I feel drained of energy
The cool air hitting my face

Outside I hear cars passing by, dogs barking, and some children laughing
Within the hospital, I can hear some groans from other bedridden patients like myself

My mind now drifts to memories of what I once was, to my family, friends, and finally my partner
I only wish I could tell you how sorry I am for making you suffer this much
If I was given a second chance, I would take it in a heartbeat
But some would see it as nothing more than wishful thinking.

The clock continues to tick by and suddenly, very slowly?darkness starts to creep in.
A part of me is saying that I don?t want to die yet
Yet who am I to choose?

The monitor starts to go from steady and then turns into a long beep
My breathing starts to slow down

I can faintly hear a nurse shouting for assistance and other voices of doctors and personnel
They surround my now-dying body trying to bring me back

As the darkness starts to envelope me and my conscious self starts to disappear
I hear very faintly your beautiful voice as you run to my side

You tell me that what I did wasn?t my fault but yours and then you apologize for how you treated me
I hear faintly your pleading cries to not leave, but it is not for me to decide.

As my eyes begin to close and I breathe my last breath
My final thought to you at the last minute is:

?I?m sorry?and I love you.?

Finally?my world fades to black and I?m free at last.