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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 3:55 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 4:04 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 4:06 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 7:11 pm
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Gazing upwards, Her green eyes swept accross the clouds in melancholy. A small tear fell from her eye and slid down her cheak, leaving a small trail of wet fur in it's past. She lifted her small but strong looking hand to stop the drop in it's flight for her red tank top. The wind blew her butt length hair accross the lush green grass she was sitting on as her orange tail danced behind her. A sigh pushed past her lips as her longue slipped out to moistenize them. The tiger lady got up and looked down at her boot clad feet. Beautiful leather pirate-like boots adorned her lethaly clawed feet. Moving her gaze up, she noticed wrinkled on her blood red capris and tank top. She swept a frustrated hand through her hair but stopped short when coming to a knot. Clenching her teeth, the pulled her hand free of her mass of red hair. Her green eyes looked about fervently, searching. For a moment, she simply stood there, her gaze frozen on the floor before her, her hand coming up to push back her silver-rimmed glasses. Petals of diverse flowers lay scattered about, seemingly all around her. But what lay between the mass of petal, the object there, is what caught her attention. A plush, deprived of it's mushy insides. A small tiger. The one she had offered to her lover. Sonya stared at it with a frustrated gaze, the events coming back to her.
{Flash back}
Sonya had been chasing the same little lion cub for the past three hours. Her legs were getting tired but the little baby seemed quited happy to be running around the forest with her intended's plush in it's little fangs. The thing was mocking her! She was frustrated, so much that she threw the bouquet of various flowers at the cub and hit it square behind the head. The lion tripped and dropped the tiger plush, making the lion trip over it. The cub rolled down the hill with the flowers and plush in tow, Scattering petals and inerds everywhere. Sonya jumped forward and caught the baby before it got hurt but soon noticed, it was simply having fun. She growled low in her throat and let the cub go before an accident happened involving claws and tree branches. Sonya sat on the ground, looking mercilessly at the crime scene she had practically produced herself and let a small frustated tear fall down her furry cheek before she whiped it away.
{End flashback}
Thinking of the precious events made a smile crawl into her face suddenly before she cracked into hiysterics. It was really a funny situation come to think of it.
~~Fin~~
***Just something I made up, considering Doomie's mood isn't getting any better anymore...***
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 12:42 pm
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I am watching the skies as I lie on my hard metal bed (at least it's not cold) and I see a falling star. Ah, pretty and then I remember. Doesn't a falling star mean death?
I watch it and the star comes down falling whistling pop, like a firework, quiet, off in the distance. I ask: whose house? Whose parent or whose child was under that man-made falling star?
And my friends have seen it too. We see where it came from (the radar helps) It's time to get to work. Quickly! Get in! Start the engine again! Turn over that way! And that's exactly what we do. We are a machine. It is our job. My job. Load! Lock! Clear! I have strong arms and clever hands I can do this in three seconds and keep on going for over an hour (we don't need to tonight, twice a minute will do) And so I load, and lock, and clear and load again Every falling star hand-delivered He who sends may also receive.
It's funny because it seems, it was forever ago there was a girl who lived next door (her father owned an orange grove and we would sit together and talk of childish things) but she was the Enemy, I learned and now I saw her again on TV she spoke of resistance and self-defence and doing unto others She wore a mask, but I would know that voice anywhere. (My boss says they build rockets in their garages you know) Perhaps it was she who delivered the first falling star of the evening and so I return the favor.
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(I'm going to get the other poetry thread killed, since it's a repeat.) (I don't actually like this poem. It's very sad.)
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 3:31 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 3:56 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 4:44 pm
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Meh, I've only written a few poems in the last couple of years, but here goes:
Only far enough to see And not of where she wished to be The heat should only paint a painted sand, but since a faulty look misunderstand, She thought perhaps, a sign of native land.
But three times false, a superficial love Lost be she as of Eight moons and yet behold a poem blue Ill met through which a yellow forlorn thought Forsooth, again! No promise true.
Hope of which there's no beguile, she would in the stead find juster herd to be A new hope forth, and fair, a different group had gathered there.
Though inviting, life anew, She took a mate, relations grew, Never forgot, her origin knew, Remembered pale where birthed was she Now not of where she ought to be.
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Posted: Mon Jun 05, 2006 4:32 pm
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Well, might as well post my short story.
Hannah shuffled her feet against the cracked pavement, looking downward. She was alone, and Joanne was walking beside her. The pair scuttled their way through the school parking lot, silence hotly balancing between them.
"Are you still mad?" Hannah asked Joanne in an awkward spurt of silence breaking.
"Mad about what?" replied Joanne, raising an eyebrow yet still lost in her own thoughts.
"Good," answered Hannah. She looked up. They were almost at the park where they would ride the tire-swing like children. It was in fact a very grown up thing to do, to act out of your age group.
The pollen was visible in the air, and the faux windmill that sprayed a mist of fine water so mercifully during those scorching cross-country days was malted with rust. The winding trail of the park reminded Hannah too much of cross-country, she still had nightmares. Particularly that one day when Coach Evilhead had assigned them to run the course, then the eliminator, then whistlework, then striders. She was certain he'd assign the death trap run, but too many people were crying already.
"I'm gonna go chase the ducks! Look, they're all lined up for me already in a flock of inviting waterfowl!" grinned Hannah.
"You're freaking evil," replied Joanne with a contorted smirk.
"Chaaaaaa!" Hannah charged at the ducks like a happy-go-lucky bull. She simultaneously was able to grab a chance to use her catchphrase. Just as she had suspected all the ducks angrily waddled away-short of an inspirational flock of pigeons exploding into the air, but it involved moving birds nonetheless.
It seemed one duck was even more lethargic than the flock, as it just stood there, bouncing a little, and quacking like a mother who just doesn't get it. Upon closer inspection, Joanne found the problem.
"Hey dude, is this duck missing a foot?" Hannah tilted her head.
"I think it is! Creepy!"
"Wonder how that happened."
"Quack."
The two girls were able to approach the duck; it was going nowhere fast.
"Quack, darn you, Quack!" it quacked.
"STOP HARASSING THE DUCKS!" cried a heroic but clearly deranged young woman from a car in the parking lot.
"Uh, what?" Joanne was caught off guard.
"I don't know what she means, but something tells me she thinks we're harassing the ducks," Hannah intellectualized.
"But we're not!" Joanne denied instinctively, and turned to Hannah. "You might be. I ain't."
Gallantly the woman retreated from her car and stormed towards them. Hannah grabbed Joanne by the elbow and took off, leaving the duck to make friends with the defender of the waterfowl.
"Holy carp," Joanne breathed after she was sure the lady was out of range. "I think I learned something today."
"So did I," agreed Hannah. "People who live in the park are crazy."
"Hannah, perhaps ducks do have feelings. It's not like we were hurting it or even laughing at it, but would you point it out to a person if they had one foot?" Joanne reconsidered the question. "Don't answer that. The point is it's not polite, and I'm sure that duck was trying to tell us that through its quacks."
"Do chickens have feelings too?" inquired Hannah.
"It's a possibility. Look, all I'm saying is that we should respect all of Mother Nature if we want Mother Nature to respect us. Ok?"
"Will it keep crazy people from yelling at u-"
"Yes, OK? It will. You'll get everything you want if you shut up and listen to me. Deal?"
__________________________
Six weeks Later
The sweat stung Hannah's eyes. Cross-country had started. Summer was slightly slower at the start of practice, but she knew that eventually Hannah would be the one trying to keep up.
"Erik is so hot, he can punjab me all he wants!" Summer joked.
"I hope Erik's coffin is big enough for both me and him!" Ooh, daring word choice.
A few more remarks on how hot this "Erik" is, and a few insults slung at "the fop" before Hannah saw something disturbing. There, on the little mound by the random building in the park, a female duck stood. It quacked at approaching geese, and Hannah's eyes didn't leave it. She searched its orange legs to find-yes, it only had one foot. The episode from six weeks earlier rang in her mind. This duck should have flown off to some other pond by now!
Summer didn't notice at all, of course. "Did you notice what Erik was doing at the begginni-"
Hannah blindly smacked into an oak tree.
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Posted: Mon Jun 05, 2006 4:44 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 05, 2006 5:29 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 05, 2006 6:45 pm
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And a poem I wrote...who knows how long ago
A Soft Goodbye by Rain
it's an odd thing, love is, a soft goodbye, in the way of words.
Not a forever, but a sign of goodnight, a greeting of good morning, a hug and a kiss.
We say i love you, every day, a soft goodbye, in the way of words.
We rub furred bodies, a more intimate feeling, claws trailing down skin, a shivering touch.
Although we are different, far away, we are akin, kindred and everything alike.
It's an odd thing, love is, a soft goodbye, in the way of words.
I love you, that is all I can say, all I can give, I hope it is enough.
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Posted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 4:15 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 08, 2006 11:20 pm
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Watership Down themed Poem. Closest thing I have to Furry writing is my Watership Down fanfics.... I've been writing them for the last six months, mostly based on the Character of El Ahrairah, the great Rabbit Folk Hero.
Anyway, onto my first Watership Down poem.
El Ahrairah Silflay under the moon, Unafraid of the dangers around him, Elil, canines who desired his flesh. He raised his ears, listening carefully, And when he was done, he simply ran away.
El Ahrairah, Prince of 10,000 enemies, Sat carelessly amongst them. With his wits intact, They could never catch him anyway.
(Elil-Enemies. Silflay-Food, above ground.)
Anyway, here is the Ballad of Alicord, from a story I am sometimes trying to write. A really dark fantasy story. Let me explain: Alicord is the King's Pirate, a mercenary who does only the duty of the King. He is a half elf, who fell in love with the full elf, Asphixis. He also has issues regarding his mother who died in Childbirth and his human half sister (Grieka) who blames him for her death.
Asphixis Decided that since he was this great Criminal, he needed a ballad. So she wrote him one.
The Ballad of Alicord
Alicord awoke one morning, Under Grieka's watchful eyes, She told him not to leave the room, And to beware of her spies. She could not forgive he him, for what he hadn't done, It's been seven years, and now he's on the run.
He plunged a dagger into her chest, and left her for dead, The Lawman found him right outside, And the saw his hands were red. Red as the devil with whom he made the deal, The devil who made his dark fantasy real, The fate of nations in his hands, He could start wars across the lands,
He took the prize of Garimon, And the great Treehold deed, He returned to Lasata with great speed, To save the face of the King, For whom he'd waged the Holy War, Without him the people would roar, and stand up and break down the door, But the King had lived his private life, And made Alicord the target of strife, And crooked deals were hidden deep in his chambers.
He stole my land, now I give him my hand.
"That's a bit short for a ballad," Alicord said, laughing, "And I think it's the wrong key as well."
Asphixis dropped the dagger from her side. Like in a painting from Lorelei, the sun opened up through the trees, turning the green grass gold. Asphisix feel to her knees, and Alicord moved from the shadows that had turned his brown hair black, and his pale skin grey.
"You are worried that I did not understand," he said, "You are wrong, I understand perfectly. But I cannot marry you, not yet."
"An Elf," Asphixis said, "A pure elf lives a long time. And, a pure elf can wait a long time."
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