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Mosqui

PostPosted: Sat Sep 01, 2007 8:41 pm


Just a silly little poem I put together for lack of any other material. Kind of puts a serious spin on a game that doesn't have a serious bone in its figurative body.

Ode to Digital Friends
A towering and eccentric king
And a small and obedient prince
Sit in their glittering domain
Dressed in flamboyant garbs

The prince a key
To expanding his fathers domain
Is also a tool
For gaining popularity amongst his people

So the king sits on his celestial thrown
And the prince wanders the earth
Always under the watchful eye
Of his overbearing father

A ball as gaudy as his dress
Pushed eternally fourth
To gather
And to create
PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2007 12:03 am


Hmm... I seem to notice that my poems generally have 4 lines per verse. Why? I guess you guys can't really explain it to me since I'm the one doing it.

The Most Beautiful Ugly Thing in the World
So many songs try to explain it
Some say it’s a second-hand emotion
Some ask where it is
And some ask if you can feel it

But still no one seems to be able to explain it
How warm it can make you feel
Or how terribly bitter
It’s all just snippets of the whole thing

Maybe it’s too complex
Or maybe it’s overanalyzed
And I guess it’s really better to have it and lost it
Than to never have had it at all

Yet I seem to be conflicted
Over whether I can find it again
After I had it
And lost it

But I want it back so bad
And nightly it’s on my mind
Sometimes I smile in remembrance
But sometimes I cry until I can’t feel

Mosqui


Mosqui

PostPosted: Mon Sep 03, 2007 8:58 pm


Chained to the Mortal Coil
A man falls to his knees
Crimson soaking his clean, white, dress shirt
A hole gaping on the left hand side of his chest
No cry escapes his lips
Only pitiful gasps as he gazes down at himself

And his hands clutch at the hole
As if willing it closed
Will cause the wound to miraculously heal
But it won’t
And yet this man won’t die

You see, the one who inflicted the wound
Really didn’t do anything
And the hole in the chest
Is something of imagination
But the damage is literal

Two eyes
Glassy and glazed over
Stare out at a cold world
And the constant shadow of a smile
Is just a clever façade
PostPosted: Tue Sep 04, 2007 9:20 pm


Trapped
Sometimes I’m suffocated
By the four walls that I call home
I sit and stare at the white paint
And I’m in the apartment alone

I try to drown my loneliness
By playing my guitar
But I know that solace
Will always be too far

I think I might fill my mind
With all my spare time
It’s not long that I realize
My mind is not sublime

I can’t seem to elevate
Myself beyond my thoughts
And mostly I just feel
Like I can’t but sit and rot

I try to tell myself
That I’m the only one
Who can change these feelings
But I feel no better when I’m done

Mosqui


Mosqui

PostPosted: Wed Sep 05, 2007 8:19 pm


Short of Breath
I can hear a steady breathing
In my ears
As my feet contact the pavement
Leave it
Contact it again

And the crickets chirp
While the clouds cover the moon
But I never have a loss of light
For the lights of the city
Illuminate the gloom

The energy I have built up
From my days of doing nothing
Slowly drain from me
And the end result
Is a feeling of floating in a tub of endorphins

The emptiness feels good
Leaves me feeling sated
Even when I’m sad or upset
The music keeps time with my feet
And the road is my companion
PostPosted: Thu Sep 06, 2007 7:46 pm


I very seldom view the world the way I describe it in my poem. The message however, rings a certain chord. Hell, non-Euclidean geometry would literally drive us insane. Mostly though, this was a poem constructed for two reasons. First, I wanted another rhyming poem. Second, I wanted something "different." It's not good, but it meets both criteria.

A World of Varied Shapes
Most see the world in simplistic ways
This is a chair and that’s how it stays
I see the world in a series of shapes
The chair’s a triangle and the rectangles are drapes

It often seems to me
That shapes are the simplest things to see
And I can’t seem to understand
Why I say that’s a box and you say it’s a band stand

Geometry can be a beautiful thing
Shapes are things that can shine or make your ears ring
Take a minute to look around and you’ll see
Changing your point of view allows your mind to be free

Mosqui


Mosqui

PostPosted: Fri Sep 07, 2007 7:19 pm


This poem is an ode to my favorite book series, "The Dresden Files." Alas, I must wait until April of next year for the 10th book to come out. It's not much of a poem for originality if you've ever read the series, but regardless...

If you've never read the series at least it's something original.

Magic Touch
The air shimmers
A barely detectable aura
And then the sky rips open
A tall man steps through

His duster reaches to his ankles
And in his left hand he holds a .44
His cheek is scratched and blood drips from his sleeve
But not a tear can be seen on his leather shell

A much shorter woman stands by his side
Blond hair cut short
A pleasant face
But hard eyes

And behind the man in the coat
Stands a pale raven haired man
Who looks like a male model
And his skin glows with an eerie luminescence

Before them stand unbeatable odds
But they work as one
Friendship and blood hold them together
And nothing stands in their way

The man in the coat controls fire and wind
The pale man strong many times over
And the short plain vanilla beauty is a weapon in her own right
But in all their chests beat strong and honorable hearts

A war rages between human and the supernatural
And they stand as the key pieces
The queen, the knight, and the rook
And they need more than just checkmate to win the game
PostPosted: Tue Sep 11, 2007 10:34 pm


My internet connection has been on the fritz, so I haven't posted in a couple days. I think I needed the break anyway. Don't be expecting poems from the days I was missing, because I didn't write any. Perhaps some extras will come in the future, but for my non-existant readers, don't get your hopes up.

People Aren’t Rocks
You think you never need help
Sitting there and reading your book
You think you can learn it all yourself
Well you’re wrong

You can teach yourself the basics
You may even get kind of good
But you’ll never know what you can know
Unless you ask for help

Open your arms
To the people
Who are reaching out for you
Don’t just shove your hands in your pockets

I know you think you look
Like you’re stoic
And as you pretend you're looking off into the distance
I see your eyes flicker to the group

You don’t need to take all the burdens on yourself
After all
You’re not a super hero
Everyone needs someone else sometimes

Mosqui


Kali Eyad

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PostPosted: Thu Sep 13, 2007 11:11 pm


Mosqui
Perhaps some extras will come in the future, but for my non-existant readers, don't get your hopes up.

Hey, I'm not non-existant. I'm just easily distracted and not very reliable. xd

The Most Beautiful Ugly Thing in the World is good. It's ambiguous, and doesn't actually explain what the most beautiful ugly thing is.

People Aren’t Rocks is also really good. It's something that's easy for a bookworm like me to relate to. I'm generally more of a people watcher than a joiner. I'm not quite sure about the rocks reference in the title... But that doesn't effect the quality of the poem.
Edit: Fix the tense on "looks" in the fourth stanza. It should just be "look."
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Poetry

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