Peredhil

(Conversion Confusion, this is actually the third post in this thread) Peredhil comes in. Wishing he could make haiku. Leaves in sad defeat.

From "Knight or Knave" by Andre Norton and Sasha Miller "Though caution and common sense are certainly important, sometimes a risk is called for... If you laugh, you risk appearing a fool. If you weep, you risk appearing sentimental. Reaching out for another is risking involvement. Exposing feelings is risking revealing your true self. Placing your ideas, your dreams, before a crowd is risking rejection. Loving is risking not being loved in return. Living itself carries with it the risk of dying. Hoping is risking disappointment. Trying is risking failure. Nevertheless, risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard, pitfall, and danger in life is to risk nothing. If a person risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, that person becomes nothing. He may avoid present suffering and sorrow, but he will not learn, feel, change, grow, love, or live. Chained by his fear, he is a slave who has forfeited his freedom. Only that person who dares, who risks, is free. Peredhil closes the book, bows, and ponders what he's read.

(conversion confusion, this is actually the third post) Peredhil looks at Zool with a peculiar expression. Erm.. yes. Geriatric Ancient (It's not my fault and I'm retired) Peredhil the Polite

(conversion confusion, this is actually the first post) Like a diamond in the rough I fearfully conceal my beauty, I need you to be strong enough That I may gain my luster. Like an astronaut I keep running into asteroids, I need you to be my Mission Control And bring me back down to earth. Like a block of marble I’m just a smooth veined bust, I need your chiseling creative eye To give me a head.

Ever hear the Rolling Stone's Requiem for the Devil? Fun parody - I like it better than the original... -P

Peredhil drinks his enormous bottle of Mountain Dew and pities those addicted to Coffee... You summed it up methinks. Sleep: noun The inferior substitute for caffeine.

Peredhil laughs in delight! What a babe!

(Conversion confusion, this is actually the second post in this thread) hmmmm, you write well... But it's rather traditional not to mention names... A Polite Thing about the potential effect if current feelings ever change. Kinda burns bridges, ya know? Peredhil thinks about the number of times he had to learn the lesson about the difference between honesty and tact, and the pain he's caused over the years. Sometimes, time can heal enough that former enemies can become acquaintances or even friends...

Sometimes Manners conceal feelings we'd want to express, but that would not be best in the long run... Extremely well-done. poignant and aching. My 'read-aloud' test flowed smoothly, I didn't have to guess where the stresses and emphasises were to go. You really write some good stuff. Hugs

Oh! I LIKE this one! And you prolly think it applies to you. It's really about me! Nice of you to write it.

Peredhil rushes in and reads RAH! Using a talent like yours for a Happy Thing, now that makes my morning bright. Thank you! Thank you very much. I like it!

Interesting imagery. Complex read. But then, I can't write either. I'll be quiet now...

Peredhil wishes he could free-style rap, but all his stuff sounds the same to him. That was really neat. Rapping about MOLES(?) on request? I'm impressed!

As you know, I'm sucker for Fantasy motifs. But I'm big on loyalty as well. You really know how to jerk my chain! fun read, well done

Good meaty subject, dealt with well... I sometimes confuse dost and doth myself - perhaps some checks are in order? One suggestion I've been given: write it in modern English and then translate back to Middle English. Ensures flow and correct usage. For me, it also ruined the mood (something important to my writing), but I pass the idea on for your consideration.

Peredhil looks at Ozymandias respectfully. Thank you for putting your finger on it! Every one hurts. The Chosen Few (or Cursed Few) express it in verse or rhyme. But not many show the indomitable spirit you show, Rahsash! You show your weaknesses and pain, yet transform it into a form of strength, giving hope to all who read. Good Reader's Insight, Oh Founder! Great writing Rahsash!

Peredhil melts. Oh... That is so sweet! Reminds me of the kittens I have. Looks over at his eighteen-year-old lazy cat, who distains strings. Suddenly I want another kitten. I like this.

graphic. Rather evocative of Joan of Arc, but of course, she was burnt. Nice meter, easy to read aloud. -P

Your honesty was a mallet While my heart to you was glass Now we're dealing with the shards Of betrayals in the past. We still love one another That at least is true But how do we piece together Shards without some glue? We eye each other warily And use care when we embrace Scintillantly shards of pain Are difficult to face. And so we circle endlessly At times it looks quite bleak We tread lightly in this dance Shivered shards are no gleek. 'Tis time to look directly Perhaps sight's been too peripheral We need to see more deepily Not develop defenses pharisaical. I sit here gathering slivered shards Hands bleed but they'll suffice To forge once more a working heart To be love's sacrifice.

Two small white mice dressed in poorly-fitting suits, obviously stolen from a Ken and Barbie doll set, scamper in squeaking nerviously. Looking around, they spy their mystic Parasol, and quickly run their way over and then up the coat-rack to hide in the Parasol's Politely Protective folds.

I don’t want to be the one, Who only meets a need - I want you to need me. I don’t want only to be your refuge From the world’s pain I want to build a home. I don’t want you to give up yourself I want you to become you And we can build We. You offer what I once wanted, I find I’ve grown beyond that, I want more something deeper. I wonder if you can understand, Something so outside you, When your own pain is so blinding?

(Date stamp/conversion confusion, this is actually the fourth post) Painfull...raw...and very well written. Good work, although I'd wish you peace. -Peredhil

Gary Larson had a cartoon once, in which their were two panels. In the uppers panel, a young man lies on his bed, the full moon shining through the window. His thought balloon shows him agonizing, Something to the effect of: "She likes me. She doesn't know I exist. No, she looked at me in the Hallway! But I'd sneezed. Maybe she likes me! She just smiles at everyone." Etc. The bottom panel shows a young lass in her bed. The same full moon shines through her window. Her thought balloon shows the text: "I think I like vanilla best." The cartoon caption reads: "Same Planet, Different Worlds." I used to think, all those years ago, in High School, that I lived that cartoon. The agonies through which I'd put myself! Have you tried talking to the fellow? It collapses so many probabilities into a reality, which then can be enjoyed or survived as the case may be... Hugs For what it's worth, Peredhil

Peredhil reads and gets starry-eyed. I love love poetry. It's the Elf in my I suppose. I vote a 'well-done' myself. It's hard enough to stay vulnerable to one's love, a little sincere cloaking behind hyperbole is just fine. -P

That's really really impressive... How in the world did you get EZBOARD to center for you! No, seriously, that's really neat - word art that mimics poem content. Nicely done Wyvern. -Peredhil