Falcon2001

Sinking into a bathtub filled with solid cubes of ice The cold sunk into my skin already I stare alive at the ceiling And wonder how long it's been since I died. I walk through halls filled with vitality And wonder when it happened. Did I drink something that disagreed with me? Was I poisoned covertly in my sleep? Or did the novacaine set in at the dentists And never decide to fade? Where did all the feeling go Why is my world painted in gray? Why don't I feel afraid or disturbed Why can't I remember your smile What happened to my memories When did I die? The boxes I place upon the shelves Are they merely a dream, a fantastic vision Somehow my soul persisting yet Though it died so many days hence Why doesn't the music revitalize me anymore Why do the memories fade What happened to all the greens and blues Why did they have to fade In a world of shadows and twilight Why am I not afraid I must have had feeling once Else how would I know what was gone Will I awake in a wooden tomb Or a watery grave 'neath the sea Have I already died and just kept going When did I become so numb?

For someone who adamantly refused to write any poetry at all for such a long time, your initial venture for The Pen is an amazing piece that reminds of several different artists, including some of my own work. Analysis part one: The freeform style of this works extremely well - there is a structure to it, but not one a structure that confines, but more of one that defines. The second stanza also interjects with the ending line of the first stanza "And now it's over" very well. I find myself thinking that you're moving on and then suddenly realizing that the writer was just saying that logically while emotionally the moment was still extremely vivid and real. The feeling of "Oh god what did I do?" are clearly intermixed with "Oh god it's already happened, why did I do this, but I'm already onto the pain part - I guess I have to deal with it." I'm going to do analysis of more later, I have to leave just now. Just so you know, I think you are brave, and strong, to go through this. *hugs*

Excellent responses, Tralla and Stick *applauds*

William Azunost, Cioden Darkeye, and Caryon Megeta are all up for auction, the winner gets to pick one of them for a date that you will surely remember, if only for the missing limbs

Edit: This song is sung to the tune of The Postal Service - Sleeping In. I just realized it a bit ago when I was looking at it. Packing up dusty memories The good and the bad call to me I sit down among the many brown boxes And remember how I used to be A report card I forgot existed With warnings oh so very insistent High school was such a fleeting image How do I move away from the instant A picture curling at the corners From lying dormant in a dank drawer The smiles on the fading film call How am I supposed to leave this all As I pack up my many possessions I'm forcefully reminded of lessons I learned over time as I acquired All the stuff that I used to admire And now it's all going to come with me But still my life seems oh so empty So many questions come to mind I'll find the answers at the end of time And so I'm sitting here surrounded By memories and moving boxes I can move myself and these fantasies But what could possibly move me? Packing up ancient memories The old and new they call to me I lie among these many brown boxes And remember how I used to be

Good story. I like the twisty ending a lot, it's a good take on the situation. The capitalizations there as well as the sentence itself seems awkward. I'd take another look at it and see what you could change.

it seems like this is the first time realizing that this isn't just a game have i ever done this before or was it a charade have i danced my way through life on silly strings of my own design deciding that i must have designed christianity just so i could do it my way i wanted to be open minded so i turned a blind eye to the bible i wanted to be accepting so i refused to accept myself i took christianity and picked it apart like a hamburger layer by layer discarding the judgement and the morals and the guidance inside i kept the guilt, though slept with it under my pillow and took it with me everywhere it was my greatest friend so now that i realize i was wrong is this the beginning of something new how can it be re-ligion if this is merely the first time for me

Hmm... You know, I really don't like the whole sin bit. Could I get it on the side? What? What do you mean, I can't? I ordered this, this is my religion. It's my own decision. I can do what I want. What do you mean I didn't order this? Of course I did. Now give it to me without punishment for my sins. Look here, let me speak to your manager. Bloody fools. Now see here, I just want it this way. I don't want any of this responsibility bullshit. I want Heaven and charity. That's it. Well of course I know that Jesus died for my sins and all that. But I've got my free will, and this is what I'm choosing to do. Now that's complete crap. Why should I have to take the whole thing? This is the age of science and reason and technology. I can get my burger without a bun nowadays - I can damned well get my religion the way I like it too. Why would I do it that way? I don't know...I don't really agree with some of the ways it talks about behavior such as drugs and homosexuality. I have friends who do that stuff and they seem alright. Okay, I guess my dad seems like a nice guy too, and he killed people...but that's different, right? What do you mean, sort of? I suppose all of it is disobedience of God's laws, but I don't really like those laws. Get rid of them. I can't get rid of them? Fine, I won't believe in them. They'll still be there? That's complete crap. ...I suppose you've got a point, but they're not like traffic laws. I can't stop believing in traffic laws like I can religious laws. Well I could but it wouldn't do anything. I'd still get in trouble for speeding. I mean "I'm sorry, officer, but I don't believe in the speed limit" sounds pretty lame. So you're saying God would say the same thing? Erm. Look here, where do you get off being all high and mighty anyway. Who died and made you the son of god? Oh. Sorry about that Jesus. I'll, uh...I'll have the cheeseburger.

I agree with Peredhil on this one - I'm mildly annoyed at how nowadays Christians are automatically defined as Close-Minded and Atheists and people who don't apply to a more standard religion or are homosexual or non-conventional are defined as open-minded. I myself am definately christian and very conventional in my morals and values, but I know many "Open-minded individuals" who have just as much trouble accepting new values or looking into subjects beyond their personal beliefs as I do, if not more. My ex-girlfriend was the vice-president of the Gay-Straight Alliance at our school, her mother was a lesbian and she had several bisexual friends. She was about as Open-Minded as one could get at our school, but she vehemently lambasted Christianity on a daily basis, refused to accept differences in people, and condemned all statistics published by Christians as "Biased" and "Untrustworthy" while immediately believing any statistic released by the Gay Task Force. She went so far as to discredit several reports by the University of Michigan that debunked the 10% Gay statistic because "Someone on the team must have fixed it, or fictionized it." In such, she was deliberately more close-minded than I was, a christian who was a member of the Gay-Straight Alliance for a short while of my own accord before doing some research into it. Anyway though, what I'm saying here is that I'm extremely disappointed in the way the words Open and Closedminded have been twisted. Oh yeah, and I thought the story was written just to be inflammatory. Good writing but ultimately wasted effort, I suppose.

Thanks everyone, I was pretty bummed 'cause I wasn't doing anything for my birthday. Having everybody wish me a birthday like this kicks ass. Thanks everyone

Whoo! Salinye's hot!

Well ya know we generally put them out before feeding them to Waterlily, poor thing has an aversion to flaming objects.

I dunno, I kind of find it entertaining, like l33t romeo and juliet (which is actualyl pretty danged funny, scarily enough.

Excellent poem, Dustin. I really think that inviting you to the Pen has helped you increase your poetic horizons a lot - watching you grow is a rewarding experience. The overall tone of the poem is one that I feel that I've explored a few times - not only questioning the purpose of life but questioning whether we truly exist or not and if we do, whether we're just figments of some imagination. My favorite theory is that there's a large orange and white tabby dreaming us and one day he'll wake up and we'll all evaporate. As to the stylistic side of the poem, I like the repitition and the free-formishness of the poem. I always was a fan of the style myself, and it works well with this poem, though I think it could work with a formatic approach. Keep writing, this is some good stuff.

I really liked it - good poem. I also liked the way that you used the I've been drawn lines - it ties the poem together and adds a very loose but solid form to it. I like the tone of the poem as well.

Roll - You got a 6 Paradigm shift, paradigm shift What's that? Things are different? I adjust. Shuffle, pile, cut, draw Assign a new value - the remainder is rounded. Re-assign. I prefer redheads. What? Returning? Check discard pile - status How can she? Her value is hate. I assigned it myself. Women = evil. Sheet confirms She remembers? Value is incorrect Does she remember? She broke my machine Error in sector 4. Reassigning variables. into a million pieces. I tried to make her fit but new sheet needed, processing she was so different. Beauty. Beauty = eye of beholder. Does she remember that day? accessing memory - unlocking When we explored each other's bodies level 5 security - unlocking When we kissed with hungry mouths and explored places we had yet to see? Does it burn inside her? error in shift.dll, reassessing values Like it does inside me? Should I call? Or leave her be alone? Life is different. Confusion. Paradigm shift complete. Have a nice day.

Jeral was startled again as suddenly the man in black seemed to materialize again from nowhere, speaking with a loud voice. Wait - was this one different...he sounds different - "The different name assignments are as follows: Jack is the leader of Clan Chimera. Lehrit is the leader of Clan Lotus, and Clan Phoenix is led by Jeral. If you have any issues with the name assignments, you will write them out and give them to your educational co-ordinators at the Clan meetings." With that he turned around and just melted back into the crowd. Jeral tried to follow the man - he was huge, how could it be so difficult - but he was yanked around by Irene, who looked at him shyly. "I didn't know you were signed up to be a leader, Jeral," she asked, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "You don't seem like the sort to be in command." Jeral shook his head. "I'm not sure either, it's a very strange choice nonetheless. Either way we'll have to get some order together." He turned to his co-captains, but they were both focused on something out the window of the bus. Jack was the first one to notice. "Hey, it's the school!" He shouted, and suddenly everyone was crowded over to the right side of the bus. Jeral momentarily had a vision of the bus tipping from the sudden weight transfer until he saw the school and suddenly his attention was completely contained by the building. The Oroborous Academy was built partially into the bottom of a sheer cliff that looked as if a mountain had been cleaved in half, leaving a large flat plateau at the bottom. The sheer majesty of the gigantic rock wall silenced the students, sending them into awed silence as they were suddenly in its shadow. The buildings that clustered at the foot of the cliff were all extremely beautiful, seeming to be made of blue crystal or glass that refracted light at crazy angles to a beautiful effect. What wasn't blue crystal was a white marble that shone brilliantly. Irene drew close to him and Jeral idly put his arm around her. "It's beautiful, Jeral." she breathed, staring delightedly at the shining buildings. He smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. For a split second before they drove across the bridge leading to the academy, the crystal buildings looked like the teeth of a giant trap, waiting for the students - then they drove back into the sun and it was innocence and sparkle again. Jeral shrugged.

Very musical - I like it. It imparts the whole frustrated feeling that comes with enlightenment. And we all wonder why the monks are always so quiet

I agree with the Quincunx's evaluation of this poem - good form. I'm not a huge fan of the freeform style, myself (of course I still write in free-form, but I am in all things mysterious and fickle). In the words of X-Sabre: OMG AWESOMEEEROCKSX)R!!! ^____^

Yeah, very excellent poem, especially from someone who doesn't consider poetry his 'forte' - the web proxy has been blocked at my school so I figured that I'd get in some valuable commenting time while I could. I also thought that it was about overdosing and drugs, though I didn't catch it in time to post it to do anything cool. Excellent poem again!

Don't worry about it - I'm still recovering from the MSBlast worm. I still want to do an in-depth study of the culture of hackers and virus programmers - MSBlast was the most tenacious thing I've ever dealt with in my life, though easily fixed if you're fast + leet enough to deal with it.

*Cioden perches on his precious rank* Mine! BACK OFF! Bloody new talent trying usurp my power! YEARGH!!! No, seriously though, good job. Congrats to all.

Cioden grimaced. "What do you mean, underwear? I am above such petty trivialities. Let me through." Melba stared him down and Cioden rethought his stand on the situation. "Melba, you'll let me through that door, or I'll reduce the door to it's base atoms and walk through of my own volition. If you happen to be in the way, you'll also join the atomization process." Cioden mentally checked - yeah, he could do that. Melba squared her shoulders and whistled. There was a tromping noise, then a muffled roar and silence. Melba's eyes flickered over to the left, and Cioden looked as well. Falcon came out of a nearby door, grinning foolishly but kind of sheepishly. "Really, Melba. You should teach those trolls something about dicing. They just got all up in arms when they lost." Behind him, William Azunost wiped blood from his sword and resheathed it, glowering at Falcon. "If I have to save your tail one more time, Falcon, I'll seriously reconsider your friend status." Cioden hissed. How dare these fools show up to this damned party. Falcon grinned widely and tossed Melba a pair of black and white boxers that shone with the light of...well something that would inhabit boxers, obviously. The trio immediately nodded and walked through the door, past a startled Melba, who grabbed Falcon. "Wait - your friends didn't pay their way in." she said, narrowing her eyes. Falcon smiled enigmatically. "Who says we didn't pay?" For a second there she could have sworn she was talking to Cioden and William at the same instant, then suddenly he was Falcon again, and walked off. Melba sighed. Mages are so annoying.

on the table there stood a fainted rose surrounded by nothing at all discarded by nobody wanted by all but everyone had the courage i stared upon the scented petals and wondered how it had appeared with faithless love and faulty tones did it expand from love reached toward it my hands alone and longed to caress but deigned not to life ends so quickly the rose still there discarded

I must apologize, as this stands mainly on the merit of it's musical tonology and not the sheer lyrics, but I'll let it go and see how people like it. Btw, each line is a new measure, and the longer measures are written so that there are two syllables per beat instead of one like the normal ones - the line "It was two" is a pickup, the last 1 1/2 beats of a measure. The last syllable of the last line of each piece is beat one of a new measure which contains the pickup to the next verse. Observe: [--------]in this there are eight eigth notes, each of which is represented when silent as a - [-----ooo]<--- in this there are three eighth notes at the end representing three notes. Anyway, here's the composition of each stanza. [-----ooo] [o-o-o-o-] [oooooooo] [o-o-o-o-] [o----ooo] The last line beginning the next stanza with it's pickup. Got it? Of course not. Where's the damned poem. Anyway, enjoy. It was two days ago last Night I left you standing all a Lone all by yourself But every Thing I ever Wanted, needed, lusted, hoarded I gave it to you Now I am Broken, shattered Crying all alone up in my Bedroom in the stars I raise my Head up to the Sky and wonder what I have been Missing all along You were so Perfect, Gentle Subtle, kind graceful beautiful Lovely to behold And I say I could never Stand to see you in the arms of Someone I despise And when I Die will no-one Cry at the loss of just one more Body to the grave And so I Listen gravely Hoping that you'll finally come back To me, please my dear It was two Days ago last Night I left you lying in the Moonlight all alone