Vlad

Blondie- don't worry about it. I write all my poems in the space of 5-10 min. 20 max. And I never go over them. Why? Same reason I don't check my answers on tests... (My head still hurts from 7th period biology today) First instinct is the right instinct. Sure, I proofread so I don't look like an dumb***, but I don't change the content. Also, I could really connect. Rune - Remember "I.C.C." should be "I.C.r.C." Why didn't I put the r in originally? too lazy. and it's optional.

I don't know if you did it on purpose, but I like how you didn't use any capitals... Reminiscent (sp?) of E.E. Cummings... or rev... gives it a smooth, hushed feel about forgetting unwanted memories.

Live forever, see the world, Sounds like a good deal, Lose your body, sell your soul, Hey, that's all cool with me. Skeletons, there all too skinny, No meat, just bones, And it gets kinda cold, Plus, too easy to spot. Zombies, now their differents, Always groggy, not just in the mornings, Moan a lot, just complain all day, Naw, too slow. Hmm, mummies, I like them, Never had a daddy, but its all fine, A bit stuffy, all those wraps, But you could get used to it, I suppose. But vampires, that's the life for me. Free to go wherever, simple really, Just drink some precious life. And stay out of the sun. Oh yeah!!! My first poem in a while, that I actually like!!!

Wyvern a vampire??? {edit... *whistles innocently} well, I guess I need to say something about you Gwai... Named after Gwaihir in Lord of the Rings...

OOC: I may add to this later... @#%$, I am in pain... Oh well, the writing must go on. IC: John hesitantly took the bag from Kasmandre, and steadily took out the contents. First a small knife, then an oaken short staff. He studied the staff, as it seemed to have a great mysterious power emminating from it. Most wouldn't be able to tell what it was, but John was that greedy. He was one of only a handful of creatures in this world who could extract value from such an object. An almost dragon creature was another, but he was still back at his office. As John inspected runic markings on the staff, his eyes lit up. The staff had come from deep within the forest, nature's energies flow though it. It was one of the limbs from the forest's mighty protector, Einos. A treant that rarely left his homelands, far to the West. This heavy weapon was ripped from its creator's soul causing sheer agony at the price of life. Einos had died in a battle, but this staff had then been hardened over the burning remains of his desecrated body. As a final tribute, Einos' successor, Einol, had put the the old treant's powers into the one remaining branch. John's normally aquamarine eyes flared to a lush green, as he entered a trance-like state. He read aloud the inscription in the language of the treants, which he previously had never even heard of, much less learned. "...and as the night fell and birds and beasts and men were lain to rest, the staff of Einos was beeing imbued, for which the great treant gave his life so that whoever shall posess this runic weapon of days of old, when mountains were but hills and forests were alive, shall be spared from eternal torment of passage through the lands the birds and beasts and men, and shall weild the aid of nature to create a delicate equilibrium of life and death, blood and bone, flesh and steel, so that his existance be without troubles of the mind or body or spirit, but bewarned you who would dare take advantage of this sacred opportunity to be a protector of the grove of Einos, that wrath is swift and let those that fell before you to be an example to those that shall fall after, and take great caution so that the mourning of the loss of Einos shall be a call to legions of the..." John then suddenly snapped out of the trance, and found himself confused and lost, as to where he was. As he looked at the faces of the comrades who had stood shockingly still while listening, he found no answers. As he looked to the horses who seemed dazed and aloof, he found no answers. As he looked, he found no answers, and thus glared at the staff his white knuckles were so desperately gripping. OOC: Ow my back hurts. I was going to add more, but somebody else can do it. I'm in no mood for writing right now...

the person above me is finnish(?) and can planeswalk

Very good.

I'm sure many people can relate to this, myself included

This is another excellend one, o evilest of evil duck poets...

Who dare this mortal be? A puny man from lands, Distant though they are, To face the anger of my wrath. Who dare this mortal be? He who challenges the gods, Must surely be a reckless fool, Not fearing for his life. Who dare this mortal be? Brave of heart, not sound of mind, Those who blind my son, Shall not live through the year, Who dare this mortal be? I will send my beasts, Keep them at bay no more, Send them out to feast, Who dare this mortal be? Believing he is mightier, Than the father grieving like, A mad dog longing for his master, Who dare this mortal be? Escaping my clutches, Finding his home at last, Fleeing from my power, Who dare this mortal be? Oppose the mighty god, Poseidon.

eggs but no chicken

*hugs* I needed a poem like that to cheer me up...

Isn't Wyv everybody's hero? He should be!

lol

Arch: good Wyvy: really good too lazy to type more...

good story, sound like something I'd be telling people at a party... If I was ever invited...

I don't really know what to think... It's good descriptive-wise, and kinda funny (Note: I'm still in puberty...)

I like this poem, It has a serene feel to it... Just what I need. Thank you.

Take a candle, Warm your life, Get away from the handle, Of that glistening knife, Relax and enjoy, Your stay at the pen, Venting's a good toy, But to stop, you must know when. I don't mean to discourage, Nor be a bad influence, Just don't lead a scourge, Past the holy fence. This is my favorite of your poems so far...

Why can't we all be friends? Why must you be a fiend, Take life as heaven sends, With the wind as I have leaned.

You want proof that I got it... proof, but no logic suffering, but no pain an ass, but no mule A butt, but not rear As you can see, if you're not blind, No friends or strangers, but a ... frogger game?

This is really harsh, and like someone else said, a bit to powerful for me. Too much anger, too much hate No girl will go with me, on a date A lesson to be learned.

cheese, but no crackers

*scowls* Finish it... Wyv-don't accept her until she does... This is really good! I.C.C. W.O.W. (figure it out)

what exactly does the (sic) mean... sorry if I sound n00bish...