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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword
Mardrax

Challenging myself

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Theme 19: Grey

 

Undefined

 

Even, the songs I hear

Even, the food I eat

Even, the walls around me

That seem to dampen everything

A slight background hum

Of sensations, undone.

Even.

 

Everything equal.

Balanced, flavourless

Gruel of sensations

Watered down and boiled

Free of all taste

 

Please, for all your highs and lows

They reverbrated with mine

And your colours mixed

With my black austerity

And oh so white moods

 

I gave you brightness

You gave me contrast

And now that you're gone

All I'm left with is grey.

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Theme 20: Fortitude

 

Go With The Fall

 

In my mind's eye

I still see you racing

On two crutches, that one day

 

Living out of the back of your car

Your foundations smashed to smithereens

In oh so many ways, the extent yet unknown

And still you went racing, going with the fall

As you called it. A tough chick.

 

Nevermind that might be the day

That you made things much worse than they were

That you tore at bonds further, with your boundless

Will to push, harder. You can do this. Have to

Do this. No one else will.

 

And still, I walked beside you

And still, I always will

And still, I'll keep saying that

Sometimes it's better

And takes the stronger one

To sit

Still.

Edited by Mardrax

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here is my contribution to the project:

 

 

What we are

 

We are the uttered words of the Great

We contain wisdom, love, and hate

We come to you and then flow away

We delight you, but seldom stay

Encouragement, sadness, and joy

You name it, we bring them all

We are sweet music for those who know us

Welcome and listen to our divine chorus

We are just ghosts without shadows

We roam the mountains and the meadows

We try to quench our lifelong thirst

To drink from the wells, to be the first

But then again when the dark sets in

We find no essence deep within

Running after sensual pleasures

Is that really all that matters?

We want to ask from one another

What will it be when it's all over?

We can't spare a moment, can't take a rest

Don't know for sure, but we hope for the best

We are the morning dew on the trees

In the garden we befriend the breeze

Loneliness, and to save it from worse

We are the guards when nature slumbers

Born before dawn and die at sunrise

A human ego we wear for disguise

We are frail and just for the fun

We can't win, but we challenge the sun

Eternal nomads of the land

We leave our footprints in the sand

We traverse deserts and seas

We make the stories and mysteries

A restless search and so much despair

But we must see what is out there

We must find it at any cost

Something that has never been lost

Veres Zoltan

2009. February 18.

Seoul, Korea

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Great stuff Mardrax, you never fail to amaze!

 

RamblingHun, awesome to see you around - gotten a little busy, but I check out bits and pieces of Hungarian history when I can!

 

I'm nowhere near a scholar on it, but you did get me interested.

 

I like your post.

 

I see it credits Veres Zoltan, is this the Taekwondo expert or perhaps the pilot (though the pilot is Zoltan Veres, I'm not sure of Hungarian name structure)?

 

Just curious!

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Snypiuer: This and this might get you a bit further. ^^

 

Theme 21: War

 

Corruption Part 1: Child's Play

 

Kids running through the streets

Chasing eachother with make believe

Rifles, grenades, they are the elites

Since you just can't misconceive

"Ratatat BOW! You're so totally dead!"

"No way pal, you missed!"

"It was right in the head!"

"What? Through the car? Give me a break!"

"Are you coming in kids? We're having cake!"

Edited by Mardrax

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Theme 22: Mother (Yay, week 3 done!)

 

Corruption Part 2: Peace of the Pie

 

She turned on her heel

Her summer dress whirled

The kids ran with a squeal

Back into mommy's world

To sit down at their table

And gobble their cake

With whipped cream, if able

And as mommy opened the window out wide

They looked at the brightly lit playground outside

 

And heard the phone ring, heard it ring twice

And saw that expression upon mommy's eyes

And they heard daddy's voice grow ever so grim

"Hello honey, kids. It's over. We've got him."

Edited by Mardrax

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Theme 23: Distasteful

 

Corruption Part 3: Wrongful Decompression

 

Mothers and children of quiet suburbia

Since this war started we've barely heard all o' ya

But now that it's over, you all rush to the streets

Cheering and hollering over some old man's death

While all are unseeing that is you he defeats

Why don't you remember there is always a Seth?

 

Are these now your values, so pure and so just

That you cheer as a life is ground into the dust?

Are these now the mores, so free and so true

That you'd wish for your children to carry beyond you?

 

I sit here, laugh quietly, ashamed of my mirth

Ashamed of my uncaring, unfeeling smile

As the earth's 'proudest nation' shows off its dearth

I might chuckle and snicker, but I still cough up bile.

Edited by Mardrax

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Great stuff Mardrax, you never fail to amaze!

 

RamblingHun, awesome to see you around - gotten a little busy, but I check out bits and pieces of Hungarian history when I can!

 

I'm nowhere near a scholar on it, but you did get me interested.

 

I like your post.

 

I see it credits Veres Zoltan, is this the Taekwondo expert or perhaps the pilot (though the pilot is Zoltan Veres, I'm not sure of Hungarian name structure)?

 

Just curious!

 

 

Snypiuer,hello again.

hungarian history, ha? it is perhaps the most distorted history you can find. however, you still can find enough to be amazed.

yes, the TKD guy, that's me. the pilot isn't. in hungarian too the family name comes first , so it's veres zoltan then :)

happy that you like my post, thanks.

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Mardrax, good as always. Your last poem makes me want to start a political debate, which shows how good it was.

 

But, this is not the place!

 

Keep 'em coming!

 

RamblingHun, I actually came across your name a while back while looking for an old roommate.

 

His name is Jon Ross, his father was the HIGHLY respected Judo instructor John Ross.

 

Jon, along with R. Lager and I took over his fathers' duplex when he left the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, CO.

 

*For anyone who may have been around back then, Jon went by 'Dragon', Lager went by 'Wizard' and I was 'Snypiuer' (but, I was 'Snypiuer' even before that time) on the old Bulletin Board Systems in Colorado Springs, CO. back in the mid to late 80's - 'Control' was our favorite.*

 

I couldn't find anything on Jon, but heard his father had gone to Korea and I ran across your name while searching for Martial Artist and Martial Arts Associations in Korea.

 

What interested me in YOUR name was that I had heard of the PILOT and wondered if it was the same person.

 

I'M ANOTHER DEGREE CLOSER TO KEVIN BACON - YEAH!!! :w00t:

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Theme 24: Want

Weeks without end I've lulled myself to rest
That empty grey feeling inside
Me prevailing
And crushing out all
Will to live and to laugh

"What do you want?"

The question burned on
My lips, trembling in the twilight
Of my saviour and my scourge
That soft white
That shone through the pane
That separated us
With means beyond mere distance

No matter how close you chose to come
No matter how hard you tried to shine
Your gentle, self conscious light could never
Hope to penetrate my wall of self raised black
Mixing to a dull grey of mutual misunderstanding

Saying I lied in saying you'd be home
While the pull of you caused tides in me
And still I resolved, each and every day
No matter how distant you were
No matter fow faintly you shone
No matter the pane between us
I'd reel you in one day.

Keeping casting out my nets
Hoping you'd choose to be caught
And show me glass walls can be shattered
And the dimmest glow's a floodlight up close.

But as the moon cast her image
On the waters of my roiling seas
I'd have to take solace in drifting there
A boat in her shadow.

And still, every night, I raise my head
Let my hair tickle the small of my back
As I inhale sea air with the salty pang of tears

And howl at her, before jumping in
To swim, basking in her glory.

Edited by Mardrax

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Also, yeah. That. Amongst other things.

I've had the deepest dip I've gone through in years, with no desire to fuel it by solidifying it into writing, and the knowledge that if I would put pen to paper, I would.

 

I'll catch up, dear friends. I promise.

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Theme 25: Lurking

It hangs there In the back of my mind
My confession
It hides there

Not wanting to be seen
But it burns

I keep it there
Since despite the pain It warms me.
I hush it

Still your roar, dear one Don't spoil this.

Edited by Mardrax

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Theme 26: Europe

 

All your base

 

Oh bright and shining

-Example of the west

While somehow in the east

Even that follows - and you them

 

What has become of your so proud cathedrals?

Testaments to your ability to climb, to a spire

Of latching on to your neighbour and pulling

Him down as you climb his shoulders?

For giants you have never been, but shoulders

Of a million men, tamed the land, raised

Everyone after you towards new heights

 

I look at you now, quibbling, amongst you

Those would drive out the base of our spire

Those who think painted glass in fancy windows

Will provide a lofty perch for a rosy view

Without having the columns to support it

 

"We do not want these," you say,

"They steal from our world of brilliant white."

And yet you do not see the stone you've charred

Is the stone we've built on, every time

When someone thought to burn our towers

Lying buried deep in solid foundations.

 

While your scope may have broadened

Terra Incognita now lies 'neath your feet

And those who don't look where they tread

Will most surely look where they fall

So keep on riding that bull, dear girl

But know where it takes you

Edited by Mardrax

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Theme 27: Foreign

 

What we don't know

 

The kids in the playground outside my window

Shouting loudly amongst eachother

Arguing the merits of football players

Stacks of supermarket stickers in hand

 

That one girl, a chromosome too many

Running down the stairs in shocked amazement

"Oooh, so bad," As she stares at the ruin of my door

"We're okay, dear," and instantly that smile on her face

 

That woman from upstairs, her cooking must be awesome

As she drags a behind that could fit me thrice

Up three flights of stairs every day to get it

And still finds energy to greet me brightly every time

 

All of these people kind, outgoing

Nary a one of them afraid to speak out to his neighbour

I walk among them in austere black, secluded

And people call them foreigners?

Edited by Mardrax

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Glad you're back! ^_^

 

And I want to say that I really like the last one, both the message and the way you wrote it.

 

Keep at it :D

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Theme 28: Sorrow

 

Roaming No More; Lament For A Phone

 

My head rested 'gainst the plastic seat before me

Tried in vain to block out the sound of babies -

Crying their lungs out as mommy tried to hush them -

Echoing like bats hunting in my cranium

 

That familiar, empty feeling presided, mixed

With that other familiar friend; self-contempt

Never far away, but on these days it can't

Help but stay away from the front of the stage

 

The stage where I

Stood, grasping, touching

Myself, looking, seeking, frantically

That one bit of - No, it couldn't

Be gone.

 

In that one moment, I saw

All of my friends fading

All of my brainchilds dying

All of my feelings passing

As I felt my pockets,

Once, twice,

Three times over

Nothing.

 

An hour of frantic searching later

And boarding the tram in defeat

I was still roaming

But no one picked up on it

As I faced the loss of the world

By myself, utterly.

Edited by Mardrax

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"Echoing like bats hunting in my cranium"

.... spectacular image. I feel your pain.

 

"That familiar, empty feeling presided, mixed

With that other familiar friend; self-contempt"

.... somewhat weighty in the wording and I feel a more concise version might be in order, but I enjoy your line breaks. Something about the way they play with eachother puts the right tone together.

 

"An hour of frantic searching later

And boarding the tram in defeat

I was still roaming

But no one picked up on it

As I faced the loss of the world

By myself, utterly."

.... perfect. Roaming. Such an excellent double entendre. And the ending, "utterly", is exactly timed. While revamping of some timing/verbage might be in order to improve overall flow, your message transmits intact.

 

Nicely done,

Tav

 

 

Theme 28: Sorrow

 

Roaming No More; Lament For A Phone

 

My head rested 'gainst the plastic seat before me

Tried in vain to block out the sound of babies -

Crying their lungs out as mommy tried to hush them -

Echoing like bats hunting in my cranium

 

That familiar, empty feeling presided, mixed

With that other familiar friend; self-contempt

Never far away, but on these days it can't

Help but stay away from the front of the stage

 

The stage where I

Stood, grasping, touching

Myself, looking, seeking, frantically

That one bit of - No, it couldn't

Be gone.

 

In that one moment, I saw

All of my friends fading

All of my brainchilds dying

All of my feelings passing

As I felt my pockets,

Once, twice,

Three times over

Nothing.

 

An hour of frantic searching later

And boarding the tram in defeat

I was still roaming

But no one picked up on it

As I faced the loss of the world

By myself, utterly.

 

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