Poetry with Parm

Writing is a passion many people experience after reading Tolkien's works. Come here to discuss and share your experiences with writing.

Postby prmiller » Sun Mar 06, 2005 8:21 am

Again the hall is silent,
and only embers glow,
I look beyond my window
to paths I used to know.
I look for friends long parted
and hope my little spot,
will be a place of welcome...
but looks like it is not.

So, here and there I scour,
all ash and cobwebs, go,
new logs sit in the fire,
while flames begin to grow.
Some stews are set to simmer,
good tea is left to steep,
the ovens burst with pastries,
and cease to creak and weep.

Rich light and scent are mingled
the floor to ceiling shines,
each fixture, dulled with sorrow,
now gleams as mithril mines.
Though guests may fail to venture
to pass these doors today:
my duty lies in making
a place where all can play!
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Postby prmiller » Mon Mar 07, 2005 7:47 am

A poem for today

like pushups,
situps, jumping jacks...
the old
5BX thing
or
10BX
program
for the really
buff,
i am writing
in poetic
OK it's stream-of-consciousness
style
passé
but hey
it works for me
because i like the whole idea
of writing bravely
like
this
b
reaki
ng
up my sentences
as i choose
ooh dear...
grammatical
rebellion
scary
but so much...fun
there i said it.
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Postby Dubatuluk » Mon Mar 07, 2005 2:54 pm

Why is it, that when Life slaps you in the face,
You get back up again, pay the bills again,
SHOW your face again?

Why is it, that when Sorrow knocks on your door,
You cry, but face it anyway, and go right
Back to living?

Why is it, that when Death stalks the streets,
You get up anyway, go out your door,
And face another day?

Why is it, that when Hope is lost, you do what you
Always do, get up and go out, pay your bills,
Cry a little, nothing fancy, no frills?

Why is it, that Life goes on, whether Sorrow, or
Death or lost Hope, and in the end
Is washed with Divine Soap?

Ok, that was weird. I don't know where THAT came from...maybe because I was rejected for health coverage again...hmmm...oh well. :D
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Postby Dubatuluk » Mon Mar 07, 2005 3:02 pm

Here's a poem written about a random word in the dictionary. (I open the dictionary and the first word I see, if it isn't bad, I write a poem about.) Fun huh?

The Looper

I sit and watch the ceiling,
It isn't very fun.
The ceiling looks just like it did,
When I was only one.

But then I see a looper,
Round and round it goes.
This is kinda super!
It hasn't any toes!
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Postby Dubatuluk » Mon Mar 07, 2005 3:22 pm

This one is based off of the stories of men being captured by fairies who stayed a night at the fairy dance and went back home to find a hundred years had passed.

Stranger, stranger look away,
Before you feel the dancing day.
Swift, and fleet, the tiny feet,
Dance away the years too neat.

Stranger, stranger, walk away,
Before you cannot pull away,
Swift, and fleet, the tiny feet,
Dance away the years too neat.

Stranger, stranger, go away,
Before you dance your life away,
Swift, and fleet, the tiny feet,
Dance away the years too neat.
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Postby prmiller » Mon Mar 07, 2005 4:57 pm

I am surprised...and honored that Minas Morgul alliances have found
their way into this humble place. Draw up a chair, enjoy the fare,
and thanks for the poems left in there.

Bright blessings,
Parm :)
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Mon Mar 07, 2005 5:13 pm

Parm, that's Sekmet in another guise. :D Dubatuluk is her TORC name. :)
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Postby prmiller » Mon Mar 07, 2005 8:09 pm

Ah! Well, whatever the disguise,
and though now I am wise,
may all who write their hearts in verse,
find welcome, though, an empty purse.
Enjoy the gladness set within
and bring your songs and lyrics in.

Bright blessings,
Parm :)
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Postby Dubatuluk » Mon Mar 07, 2005 8:46 pm

Why thank you Parm! I am honoured to be here!

Chants:

Round the fire we dance and sing,
Isn't fire a lovely thing?
To dance, to sing, to complete the ring,
Isn't fire a lovely thing?
To worship, praise, and ever sing,
Isn't fire a lovely thing?


Pater noster, qui es in caelis:
sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum fiat voluntas tua,
sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum
quotidianum da nobis hodie; et dimitte
nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus
debitoribus nostris; et ne nos inducas in tentationem,
sed libera nos a malo. Amen.
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Postby prmiller » Tue Mar 08, 2005 7:51 pm

in that vein
of welcomes
and other stuff
which people say
when things get rough
i come with hands
and arms
stretched wide
and gladly
for my part
draw friends inside.
no pretense
subtle webs
no sycophantish
obsequious
grovellings
for friends
why try?
fair-weather friends
sail out on the
fair tides
the house of cards
of
hearty compliments
and
diamond smiles
falls part
when pushed and shoved
in the rough and tumble
bump and grind
cliche upon cliche
of life
so all who venture here
be well met
enjoyed
for your poetry
not your piety
nor your credentials
just come
leave the parchments
of your musings
let us have these and
you
to savor
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Postby Dubatuluk » Wed Mar 09, 2005 10:33 am

All two of my sonnets. ever. I can't believe that Shakespeare wrote 150, two made me dislike the writing of sonnets.

1
That everyday I should see thy eyes,
Which bore into my pestered soul.
Everything else doth seem to die
At the lovely sight of you.
The ocean that in your eyes dost move,
Moveth me by the shore of your face,
And in the foam the gulls do love,
I lose myself in sight of grace.
Swimming in the cool, brawny waves
I see thy soul encased in heart,
And surely as the Spirit doth save,
Yours in kind would'st take the part.
Though, as ever quiet thy heart's secrets do claim,
Inside your eyes, they are not tame.




2
Long into the darkest night,
As blackness covers all my heart,
Your eyes do shine the beacon light,
And pierce the darkness, all with a start.
Like bright Lucifer before he fell,
And the celestial sun on his bold throne,
Your eyes shine on and toll the knell
For the dark to quit its gloomy tone.
Blackness flees at sign of your eyes
Letting my heart breathe again,
And as the moon brings light to skies,
Still they shine on—not lame,
Yet bringing my heart a royal glow
That I should see and others not know.
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Postby prmiller » Wed Mar 09, 2005 7:29 pm

Dubatuluk...you're going to even hate sonnets more, when I tell you
that they also need the iambic pentameter rhythm as well.
daDUM, daDUM, daDUM, daDUM, daDUM
shall I comPARE theeTO a SUMmer's DAY ?

rough WINDS do SHAKE the DARling BUDS of MAY
...and on it goes.

I feel I am no help or encouragement when I tell you
that I wrap many of my thoughts in sonnet form.

If I can be of any aid at all
I trust my words to you will bring relief,
write on, my friend and let frustration fall,
give shape to thoughts that mirror each belief.
There may not be a bud you see in May
and all the winds about you bring but snow,
look for the spring for it shall come some day
and soon the buds of sonnets bloom and grow.
Despite your irritations of this form,
for other ways you have to share your heart,
may you find helpful respite in the storm,
that threatens to pull all your rhymes apart.
Come let us share the sonnets scribed in life,
and step aside from all poetic strife.

Bright blessings...ever,
Parm :)
Last edited by prmiller on Sat Mar 12, 2005 8:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby ladyofrohirrim » Thu Mar 10, 2005 3:06 pm

Hello all,

I found myself wandering into the Scriptorium today because I was inspired by what my English teacher had us complete in class. I am in an AP Language and Composition course, which normally focuses on prose, but we were running low on time so my teacher read us some poems based on typically "non-poetic" subjects, such as particle physics. She, never good at math in school, had one of her students try to explain a theorem of calculus to her, and she wrote down her impressions. Not having a true idea about her subject, she constructed a beautiful poem that related these ideas to what she understands. The class was instructed to take out one of their other subject's books (mine was Organic Chemistry) and write about that.

I am posting here in hopes of getting a little feedback since I don't think it's that good but others liked it. The reader shouldn't have to know the subject to get the feeling, but if you are confused you can ask me.

alkanes, alkenes, alkynes, arenes
compounds react violently, lovingly
lovingly violent or violently loving?
electrons pushing
pulling
attracting
repelling
chemical romance doomed to fail
fickle induced dipole-dipole breaks and forms
controlled movement
random emotions
colliding against my head
these structures can't hold me up
I am drowning in napthalene
with two benzene rings wrapped tightly


Thanks for reading, and great poetry thread parm!
LadyRoh

Edit: TORC posting must not like me because there are supposed to be spaces between certain words within the poem, so to retain the form I will put in underscores later.
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Postby Dubatuluk » Thu Mar 10, 2005 10:01 pm

I think it's great, LOR!! You can really feel the power as the different parts collide! Good work!!

I know, Parm...I just couldn't seem to get it quite right. My Eng. Teacher helped me (these were for 200 pts. extra credit in Eng. 12) and she didn't seem to mind, but then she taught freshman as well and her brain was about fried...hmmm...any help would be appreciated
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Postby prmiller » Wed Mar 16, 2005 7:50 am

LOR...that was delightful! :D
What fun I had reading that!
*********
I'm sorry, but my skin is not as tough as I had thought.
From here and there colleagues have brought to my attention three things:
1) I write purple poetry/prose which means ornate and flowery writing.
"Examples of that are abundant throughout your time on TORC
and that other TST place."
2) Think of yourself less as a 'mentor' and more as a mime...someone
imitating but not really doing anything substantial or worthwhile.
3) How many "pro" writers have written you and commented on your
skill? Mass appeal does not mean anything. So you may have a
fan club, but poet laureate rarely attract "fans", they garner praise.
***********
So, on one hand, someone is asking how to be a poet, and on the
other hand, colleagues are reminding me how far I have to go to
be thought of as being anything more than a wannabe Hallmark greeting
card writer... as one other person observed.

Forgive me, but I am really too tired to fight that.

Instead, I'm merely going to be here and write.
If people like it, fine.
If they don't, fine, too.

No pretentions...I am not a pro.
I am, however, employed as a teacher, and I am wondering, really
wondering what that really, really means.

hide
candles
break
bulbs
plunge me into dark
ness
numbing
fjords
where
iceanddarkareone
mute
midnight
me
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Postby Cerridwen » Wed Mar 16, 2005 10:00 am

You cannot hide your light my friend: Don't try.
There is a skill you have, to bind, to heal,
This being your intent, as time goes by,
You gladden all our hearts with grand goodwill.
Your teaching does not nullify your heart,
And good instruction must be joined by skill;
Thus do you school those forming words as art,
And now you may be tempted to think ill.
For not all ways of penning like you best.
You choose a medium, and so you write,
And merry go, forgetting all the rest.
It is this thing that causes critic's spite.
But that you do not choose variety,
Should not make you believe a vanity.

In honor of Parm, my first sonnet. No, I haven't ever written one, that I can recall. I think I'd remember, because it would have been a big deal.
Cheer up old boy. [hugs]
Love,
Cerri
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Postby prmiller » Wed Mar 16, 2005 4:03 pm

Dear Cerri,
That was both remarkable and healing.
As I was doing some reflecting on the story of Elijah,
I was reminded that he was both emotionally and physically
drained after the incident on Mt. Carmel. As a result,
he did not have the perspective to deal with Queen Jezebel's
threat because of exhaustion. In one place I read, this
was called "burnout".

Mrs. Parm reminded me that I have been so much inside the
hurricane of many conflicts, that I have not seen the toll it
has taken. It was suggested that I take a time of rest,
rather than participate in the teacher development week
coming up after Easter during the Easter/Spring break.

May I ask for prayers that this will be acceptable?

Again, thank you so very much for loving wisdom and
the tremendously moving gift of your very first sonnet.
Bless you, dear. Bless you, bless you!

Parm...who has gone to rest.
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Postby prmiller » Thu Mar 17, 2005 9:08 am

A word to the the non-TORC lurker...

I know that you will venture here,
to see if you have had effect,
to find more flaws, egregious slips,
uneven rhymes or some defect.
I ache for you, though you struck first.
I shall go on, let this be known,
and do not think I bear ill-will,
despite bi-polar feelings shown.
You have, in fact, made me aware,
that I, indeed, should hone my craft,
though you had sought to hurt and slur,
and in some distant corner laughed.
I have learned something through this pain:
it's try and try and try again.

Please do not leave more e-mail notes
or scribbled memos on my door.
Write poems, then. Your heart emotes.
But leave off hurting me somemore.

I sign off, as you have seen me do,
countless times:
Bright blessings,
Parm :)
...and this I truly mean.
...my hand is offered to reconcile.
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Postby prmiller » Sun Mar 20, 2005 7:53 am

time
to move on
time
to sit still
time
for a walk
time
to look hard
time
to look on
time
to let go
time
to move on
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Alas by alias

Postby darûkûrz » Sun Mar 20, 2005 9:24 am

- -
Last edited by darûkûrz on Tue Mar 22, 2005 12:14 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby The_Gypsy_Scribe » Sun Mar 20, 2005 9:50 am

Parm,

Forgive me if you would for straying a bit off topic, (and I want to say that I think your poetry is most sublime.) But I have heretofore been a writer of prose who wants to now incorporate more poetry into my creative forum. I have written poems before, but despair at their quality. You have also said elsewhere recently that you are a love of words. Can you advise me on any practices you may use to not only edify your vocabulary, but enhance memory retention of new words you come across and how you implement it all so adeptly into verse?
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Postby Dubatuluk » Mon Mar 21, 2005 9:08 am

I'm sorry to hear about that Parm! :( why do people have to be mean? It's not nice! *duh!* :D Cheer up!

I can’t find my muse.
You wanna know why?
She left me for that one with the slicked back hair.
Every time I think of it, it makes me cry.
Where did they go?
What do they do?
Do they even care?
Once upon a time, my muse was so sweet.
She’d dance a fairy dance on quick-fleeting feet.
But now that slick-haired young hooligan,
Has spirited her away.
Probl’y shimmying and shaking her stuff on the street.
Although maybe I will, I can still dream,
Write a poem about her and see her again someday.
Maybe it’ll happen, and maybe it won’t,
But don’t you think my muse needs to come back now
For all the bad rhyming and all the bad rap
That’s happening in this so-called poem today?
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Postby prmiller » Mon Mar 21, 2005 9:43 pm

The_Gypsy_Scribe:

When one edifies one's vocabulary, it is a shift from something that
does not build up, or encourage, to something that does.

To do that takes lots and lots of practice. However, sometimes the
longer the phrase, the gentler it may be: You are often late >>
It tends to be your habit to appear at a time a little after the one set for
others to be present.

Long-winded? Perhaps, but the message is not a shade different in
meaning. Some appreciate candor, others may not. The more and more
I spend time among students in Japan, I realize how very tender their
spirits are. They are a delicate as cherry blossoms -- possessing breathtaking spiritual beauty but also startling fragility.

Now, if you meant to increase your vocabulary, I often tell my students
three things...Read, write, then read and write some more.

Read excellent examples of literature: plays, poems, essays, criticisms...
my absolute favorite is Northrop Frye, who was still actively writing when
I was blessed with the opportunity to attend university. My professors
brought us samples of his work and I must be honest, if ever he had a
distant fan, well, I was such a fan!

As for retaining the words and ideas that catch your attention, spend time
with a journal and write about them, write those excellent phrases and ideas down, collect them and go over them again and again.

I sometimes have the time to go back over my journal entries and notice ways I have grown, and ways that I have not.

Even as I write these words, I sense eyes looking over my shoulder,
agreeing or disagreeing with what I may write. What I have suggested
has helped me in many ways, and I have watched students grow from
this as well. Perhaps they had the talent all along, and I was merely a
push, but I have been among professional writers, and I have often
heard that writers are readers and readers that write. A clever turn of
phrase, true, but the esteemed glooskap seems to embody the spirit
of a writer who reads and reads and reads, transforming what he has
read into his own voice and treating us to his insights.

I hope this a bit of a help. I am eager to encourage, nudge, coax and
spread the evangel (good news) of literature and the joy of writing...
note, not the happiness of writing...it is not a happy task to write, and
rewrite, and do that over and over. However, if, when you rise, you find
yourself yearning to write...that, then, is the joy of it!

Bright blessings,
Parm :)
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Postby Cerridwen » Mon Mar 21, 2005 10:03 pm

It was offered in the spirit of one
Who sits at another's feet,
And listens.

Love,
Cerri
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Postby prmiller » Tue Mar 22, 2005 4:47 am

:)...and it is with similar gladness, and eagerness that I submit my
simple ideas.

May all who venture here be encouraged to do more, and push
themselves to great levels of excellence. I shall be cheering you
with great enthusiasm! :D :D
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Postby Cerridwen » Tue Mar 22, 2005 1:16 pm

Oh yonder sits that little turtle dove
In yonder high tree.
A-making a moan for the loss of his love,
As I will do for thee, my dear,
As I will do for thee...

Hardly original, but the gypsy in me has come out to pull the skies down in showers, and recks not of where the verses come from. [sniffles] We're singing this in choir, and it's all I can do some days to keep singing and not burst into tears! :shock: :P

Feeling a bit misty today, along with the skies and the rains here in the not-so-sunny south.
:D
Cerri
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Postby prmiller » Wed Mar 23, 2005 5:18 pm

A Passion Week Reflection

Lord, at this time when grey turned gold,
when hearts burned hot that once were cold,
when all hopes lost, rose bright as suns,
when joy cut short, now freely runs,
do to my soul what then transpired
that Easter-fresh, I be inspired.

My Master, how I stand in awe
that pierced and whipped and bloodied raw,
You chose all this, all this for me,
before you left eternity,
and only heaven could applaud
when you set by your rights as God.

O Lamb, O Price, set down for sin,
our ruined lives you came to win,
then grace on grace, what gifts are formed
that we by You, are faith transformed.
My Lord, My God, My truest Friend,
before this day draws to its end,
may I hold tight this single thought:
How loved I am, and precious-bought.
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Postby The_Gypsy_Scribe » Wed Mar 23, 2005 5:29 pm

Parm.

Excellent Passion poem, I have one I composed for Christmas, that I would like to humbly share when the time comes.

Also, I wanted to thank you for your advice and perspective. I believe you have an excellent resource thread for those who harbor a poetic wind.

:)
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Postby Navi » Thu Mar 24, 2005 6:56 am

My Mercurial Soul

Silver washes through the sea
Veins trace life deep into me
White transpires, falling free
From this Tree of Mercury

Thus have I seen love's bright sheen
Shining forth the last sunbeams
One white light 'midst all the sea
This crying Tree of Mercury

Orbs of sunlight drip to dirt
Where veins of life spread through the earth
Searching, blindly, for the rain
That seeps up to drip down again

These silver veins stretch through the sea
In search of sunlight as it fades
And all across the crimson waves
Is falling rain, sorrow to sea
Tears of the Tree
Of Mercury

A sunset slips so slowly to
A garnet rain with silver strewn
These crimson tears of love for you
Fall as the sunset fades.
The moon
Now rises, shines so pale upon
A night that never will know dawn

So still, alone, I'll always be
This crying Tree of Mercury
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Postby Navi » Thu Mar 24, 2005 6:58 am

Caelum Noctis

A sea of seething, frothing sky
Condensed, concluded by the night
No point of reference, and no self
Can lie undrowned in these soul-wells

A faded light
Yet fades from sight
Is lost within the self-same rain of sky
The misty veil that shrouds all earth tonight

The sea of tufted, densed elixir
Floats beneath me as I see
The earth now fade forever from my sight
As I rise, and rise both from and into night
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