Gwaihir

Just a little thing. I didn't post it in his thread though, because it's in a different spirit. I advise that you read or have read Dylan Thomas' 'Do not go gentle into that good night' first though. Do not go gentle Old man fighting, although he has no hope Like a Priam, he can’t give up, or win. He lifts his sword, weakly, tries to make his hand stop shaking, not that he feels afraid, but that it’s been too long, he’s just too old. He may be weak but he’s tenacious too. So he totters his sword and shield in hand Running to face the dying of the light. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

How splendid. I see many layers of meanings. A neat poem. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

I always like being surprised. Traditional, almost ballad like. I like it! ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

For once Myth was caught off guard. This she hadn't expected. "Sounds good to me, shall we start tomorrow, it's getting kind of late for searching for anything today." That settled everyone went off to sleep. Myth, however couldn't. Things were wrong, her plan had been anticipated and spoiled. For hours she lay awake worrying, annoyed, Y'Tren was a fit opponent. "Well, at least he can't guess my idea from me, it being nonexistant" she grumbled. Suddenly, around two am an idea struck her. She got up, when to her bags, and grabbed a few cheap shirts. "If there's one thing I can do, it's gag people quickly and quietly." Each of the party had an room off the same hall. Myth's was at one end, and Reyn's at the other. The first room next to Myth's was Y'Tren's, she skips that one for now. Next though she goes to the darkelf's room. His door is locked but easy to pick. When she enters, he is still asleep, and before he's awake enough to fight or yell he's gagged. Then she purposefully turns on the light, and peers at him. "Yes, it's the right guy." She slits his throat, and then having, removed the key from his pants, glanced through his belongings (puttinig them back afterwards), turned off the light, and locked the door (keeping the key). Next the ogre's room, same drill, but as she gags him, he kicks the wall next to his bed (the wall adjoining to Reyn's room). Hurriedly Myth kills him first, then checks the identity, and goes through the rest of her drill as mentioned above. On leaving the dead ogre's room, Myth finds a problem. Reyn's room is empty, he seems to have jumped out the window stark naked, having heard the noise, because all his clothes remain and the window is open. "@#%$. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now, delay can't be brooked." So, Myth looks through Reyn's things breifly, adn then putting them back as they were, leaves. "Now's the hard part, I just hope this goes well." Concentrating a moment, Myth casts her chameleon spell, now no one would notice her without a special sense. Quietly unlocking Y'Tren's door, Myth tiptoes in and standing over Y'Tren. Pulling a vial out of her pocket, she pours a bit on Y'Tren's forehead and in his mouth. As he jerks awake, the power of the strong sleeping vial pulls him right back down, before his head has even lifted. Next, Myth searches quickly through Y'Tren's belongings. "Now where are the danged artifacts?" They aren't in any of his things, or on him either. At first Mythh is stumped, but then she reaches deep into the back of her cloak adn pulls out a small blue gem. "My teacher's last gift." she grins to herself. Looking at the gem she concentrates on the artifacts, for almost six minutes she sits completely still suddenly the gem puts out a beam of light towards the wall. Myth, blinking "I would never have thought of that." lightly taps the blank wall there. Sure enough, it comes open revealing the artifacts. She pockets them. Last of all she pulls a note out of her pocket, she reads it over: Y'Tren, If you get this note it's because I've succeded. I'm not going to try to fool you, and tell you that Reyn did it, though I sincerely thought about doign that, because you might not believe it, and I'd rather get along with you and your contacts. Except for the two of us, the rest of the party is dead adn I have the jewels. "That part's not true now, but no matter." I'm going to the honest adventurers to bargain. I'll cut you into the deal I make if you wish. I have left you alive, because I hope we can remain on good professional terms. "No need to mention how much I respect his defenses." I hope to see you soon. Myth Leaving the note in an obvious place, Myth takes off to find the adventurers.

Wyvern I just want to say that I really support your accepting Orlan as an initiate. That post he made was hilarious, and he's written many other entertaining things on the UBBs and in other places. I strongly support his application! ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

I think I like Shades of Grey best, though the one about dog hair is pretty funny. The first stanza has an easy, snappy rhythm, and then as things become less clear to the writer, everything else smooths out too. A poem well worth a reread. (portends is a great word, not often enough used) ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

I think I like Shades of Grey best, though the one about dog hair is pretty funny. The first stanza has an easy, snappy rhythm, and then as things become less clear to the writer, everything else smooths out too. A poem well worth a reread. (portends is a great word, not often enough used) ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

I've heard that phrase 'shame on the moon' before, and never understood it. Nice poem though, it makes me think of similar people. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

Neat. I like the sudden short manner in which everything is conveyed. They feel like exclamations. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

not a bard, but I'm on #thepen pretty often. I think we have different times though. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

There is a pause, while everyone thinks. Myth calculates to herself: If the dramatists have it we're screwed they're stronger than we, and I doubt a monk who hated the pool would carry anything pertaining to it on his body, hence I'll bet that the honorable adventurers have it. However if I say that explicitly then we should all go find the adventurers. The less of that idiot Reyn I see the better, heck the less company the better. However it's nice to have backup, and Y' Tren has the connections, and he seems pretty on top of things, I don't really want to backstab him. He's probably out for his own interests... I've got an idea.. Myth takes a breath, stands up, and begins speaking "There wasn't anything else in the fat monk's room when I got there, and I didn't delay. There's a group of honorable people looking for the pool too, but because of their morals they couldn't have stolen the rest of the stuff (who'd be dumb enough to forget half the goods, and anyway they probably wouldn't steal I think.) There are some other people who know about the pool, but they seem rather fond of dramatic displays, and very intelligent so taking just the crystal doesn't quite seem their thing. However, the point remains that wasn't in the cathedral unless it was on someone's person. (I searched, and I don't make mistakes). That leaves three options, the honorable party has it, the dramatists have it, or Jakob had it. The honorable party did know something about the pool, they could easily have come to Jakob for his supplies, already possesing the crystal, though that leaves me wondering why Jakob had a fake. If the compass is not magical, which I don't know, then the dramatists could have copied the maps, possesed their own compass, and switched the jewels. This though, is rather complicated and we have no motive for it. If Jakob had it on him, it may still be there, searching through rubble takes time. Even if it was taken off him, there woudl be hope of tracing and recovering it. I really don't think we can easily discover which of these three parties has it (if anyone else has it, we're back at stage one) without just investigating all three. Hence I have a proposal. To discover if the honorable party has it requires a spy, if they do we must negotiate or steal. (Stealing may be hard, unless they're idiots they know what they have). I've already watched these people so I propose that I go as spy, and I since Y'Tren has the most power to negotiate, I propose that he comes with me in case they have it. If the dramatists have it, they have to be found (getting it from them would be hard so maybe we should put that off until we know more about them) Reyn's already seen these people, and Gallaros is a bit tougher and a good investigator, so I'd suggest sending them to see what we can find about the dramatists. If the crystal was on Jakob's body, and has passed to kin or friends, it'll take a tough fellow to get it back. Looking imposing would help (the fact that you (looking at the ogre) are tough might help more) so I would think of you as doing that. I say that we meet back here in a week (that leaves time to get our stuff done), but that if anyone has a strong lead that won't wait, then they should follow that rather than making the meeting time. The rest of us will wait. Ok, that was a lot of speaking for me, what does everyone else think?" ---------

To My Twin They glanced at us-We seemed the same. We looked and dressed and played the same, The same interests, the same buddies, And hell!, even the same haircuts. We looked at us-we were the same. Later, in school, in our classes, My toughest rival, closest friend. No one could beat The Twins in math. Always the same, always allies. Together, we'd have fought the world And dammit bro, we woulda won! We never knew ‘myself’ from ‘you’, Because we never needed to. When they said you, and looked at me We knew they meant you too. Of course! But now I stand, cold and lonely Yet still I think these thoughts to you, There’s no one else who’s me. I’ve never lived without ya twin, So hard to be just half myself. Now you've left fighting, grasping For 'I' when all I know is 'we'. I don't think this is quite right yet, but I'm having trouble fixing. Any criticisms are highly welcomed. "I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark Edited by: gwaihir1 at: 2/5/02 12:55:58 pm

Conversion Confusion - this is post Two neat! I love when someone takes a normal idea, and makes a mystery and a thing of beauty out of it. I think this is one of my favorites of yours. It gets better as it goes on I think, the imagery gets clearer. I think, that's because I don't know what you're referring to at the beginning, then when I'm able to place the imagery, it seems more vivid. (also thanks for the sig quote : ) I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark

Walks in with a roll of parchment, which he unrolls dramatically Oyez Oyez! The following have been promoted! New Quill-Bearers: Foe Calibur Balladore Falcon2k1 Lady Celes Crusader Valdar and Astralis New Pages: Belizean Bhurin Damienn Ravencroft Excedrin Justin Silverblade Nyyark Rahsash Geldich Tralla Turi

Cute, would not have expected that ending

what a cheering poem, and a happy attitude! fun to read

Gwaihir hears the racket, word that there's a thief around the pen Great!, I'd better look around my belongings! It takes a very short glance to see that the painting entitled School of Athens (Rapheal) is gone. Gwaihir glares. As long as... Gwaihir checks one of the drawers in hisdesk quickly. Gwaihir stops DontyelldontyelldontyelldontyellDontyelldontyelldontyelldontyellDontyelldontyell dontyelldontyellDontyell Gwai bites his lip to control himself. The thief had taken her picture. It had been a Long time since she'd left this earth, and Gwaihir had resigned himself to the loss of a miracle. Gwaihir was an elf who often kept his sorrows, and even tears to himself, none of his friends here had even heard of her. The thief can't have taken her painting because he knew her, it must have been because he thought it was valuable. Walking out find out what's going on, Gwaihir laughs dryly to himself Whoever the thief is, he must have, among other things, a good taste in art.

I like it! Someone else who likes to write in iambs "You took all the color, but greys are pretty too." I really like that line!

Meanwhile... "Reyn, you're a fool, bolted out of there without thinking, completely out of character. What if somebody noticed? We need to hurry to Y'Tren, and our backup. At the moment there are more of them than us, and the risk that one of them saw you bolting. Myth wonders to herself WHY in the name of heavens she showed Reyn the artifacts. Oh well, but now if they surround us, I have a coward who knows my secrets. But wait!, I know. "Umm, Reyn I'm going off into the bushes for a moment to be private, don't go anywhere." As soon as she's out of sight of Reyn, Myth looks around, and deciding that the area is free of any sentient beings, takes out the artifacts. Now, he saw me put them in my cloak, that's where he'd assume they were. Then Myth does something that she almost never does except at night, she took down her hair. It was ALways up, most people assumed it was relatively short. Myth would have liked it shorter if it was up to her, but practicality trumped taste anyday. If one knew how, hair that was in a bun (curled up on top of the head) was a great place to hide small things) Then, seperating things out, she puts one paper that one might believe belonged alone, and the jewel, back in her cloak. Next, rolling up the other papers, she puts them with the compass in her large bun. She pats it to check anything showing, no all was safe. With that she hurried out to join Reyn, wanting to reach Y'Tren as soon as possible.

This is another poem I've posted before (though maybe not here), but it's rather revamped, so I'm posting it again. Depression When all your dreams seem like a pack Of trash bought in a candy store. It doesn’t matter what you say, You may Not get another chance. You may have failed, and failed for good. There just isn’t always Tara. Maybe you’ve only got your friends, Sometimes you’ve just screwed up too much- You’ve lost them too, along the way. You pinch yourself repeatedly, Maybe this mess is all a dream, But hope’s the only dream you have.

Repentant You’re mad at me, because I slipped, I was doing a job for you, I guess my loyalty wiggled. If I could just be mad at you, Say that you were unfair to me, At least being too relentless, That wouldn’t sting me half as much. I pass you in the halls, mentor, I can’t avoid glancing at you, Wishing for a cheering smile. I know you won’t, at least for now, But still I can’t resist. What if? Maybe now, you’ve forgiven me. I’d hear you want information. It doesn’t really matter what, Say you wanted someone followed. I enter your office, hoping, You look at me and shake your head. In truth you’re mad at me fairly, But that’s why I just can’t stand it!

Don't disapear too far.

I like the slight change brought about by the last line.

I really like the constant movement, it's really well done.

I posted a really awful first draft of this a few months ago, but I finally decided to revamp it recently. Last year you were all that counted, I used to pray for you daily. It cut my heart to see you there, Blank face, dead eyes, a vegetable. I remember the days when you Were everything that could ever matter We loved each day as if the next Wouldn’t come, and then one day it didn’t. A great party, a great drive home, Till the river drove into me. Next day they said they there was no hope. Probably you’d never think again. For all those years I spoon fed you, Wiping your face after you ate, Hoping there could be a morning When you would wake and know your name. You’d start to speak, I’d hold my breath But then you’d say Gaga, I’d cry. And then, last month you said “Hello”, Asked me if the car was ruined. You found that you’d lost half your life, That my drinking had taken it. I think you could have pardoned that, But not Rosie, not your baby. I didn’t mean to drown her dear, It was so many years ago. I spent so many years nursing, Hoping for your return to me. And now, I wish I never had!