Rhapsody

A belated happy birthday, Cyril!

May all your deepest desires come true.

*Rhaps*

Awwww, thanks guys! Lovely poem, Cyril.

So anyways, I'm 19 now. This was my first birthday away from home. And what a birthday! I watched a friend from overseas do a strip show for me (on a webcam). I got a pair of lacy black panties stuffed into a chinese food take-out box (from my roomie) and then my entire floor treated me out to dinner. And then they all surprised me afterwards with a chocolate cake. Plus, yesterday I got a bunch of red envelopes (cha-ching!) from my family in San Fran. It really pays to be born on the second day of the new year. So we're all headed for Chinatown this weekend for massive shopping sprees! Wee!

I love college!

Thanks for the birthday wishes, y'all.

The Pen is my haven.

The Pen is my Heaven.

Amen.

*Rhaps*

To add to the potential apologies thread, I must say I'm in the midst of moving into my dorm room for the first time. College packing is eating me alive. I, too, am uber-busy. But I'll try to get in and write ASAP.

*Rhaps*

Happy birthday, Icarus! Hope to see you around soon.

*Rhaps*

I'm praying for everyone in SE Asia.

And I'm requesting that everyone here prays for my family in Burma. Electricity is a problem there even under normal circumstances, so we can't even dream of contacting them in these emergencies.

*Rhaps*

*sings "happy birthday" in the Old Cymrian tongue to lend it extra power*

Hi there Finnius. I don't know you that well, but happy birthday nevertheless. As a person who has just recently been acquainted with a Finland native on another writing board, I send extra blessings to you and your country.

*Rhaps*

Awesome idea, Ayshela!

No need to give me any geld, as I'm not much of an RPer.

To Peredhil:

For shadowing everyone's steps within the walls of the Pen. For replying to nearly everyone's posts. For always having a stream of supportive words to share. For having the patience to answer the questions of a novice. Master Elrond, you truly are the most polite ancient bard I have ever met. And I'm blown away that you're attempting to write love letters to every single member of the Pen alphabetically. Master Elrond, you really push the envelope at times. lol.

To HappyBuddha:

Dude, thanks for all the time you spent helping me set up my IRC stuff. Like I've said before I'm computer illiterate. You truly have a talent for deep, multifaceted poetry and I cannot wait to see more of your work. You were the first Pennite get closer to me, what with the IM and all. Thanks to you, I visit this keep much more often than I used to. Congrats on your promo...maybe we should do a Quill Quest together. Anyways, just thought I'd spread the love.

To Reverie:

I've always admired your work and I jumped at the opportunity to be able to work with you on Sand and its splinter poetry. You taught me a new term! I must say it was cool to meet a fellow Asian-American on the board. Good luck at school, whichever path you choose to take, and a happy holidays to you.

More coming later!

*Rhaps*

Rhapsody, the Lirin Namer (Singer), finishes her vespers and catches sight of a colorful flyer on her way back into the conservatory. Grinning devilishly, she pulls out a quill and scrawls her name in musical notes onto the parchment.

Suddenly, she blanches, fearing "losing something" and nearly scratches out her name. After a moment of musing, she decides the Pen men must honor a fellow Pen woman. She leaves her name up on the flyer, singing a few verses about honor while underscoring her name, just to seal the pact. She finishes with a brief prayer hoping she isn't selling her soul and saunters whistling into the Conservatory.

*Rhaps*

Whoa, Ozy, etymology is so cool.

Just as a note, I read somehwere that "Leif" also means "beloved" in Scandanavian.

Congrats to all everyone promoted. Y'all deserve it!

*Rhaps*

Thank you both for your help as I was getting cross-eyed trying to figure out what language they are in.

Now for translations....lol

Lady Celes, how can you tell its a mixture of Spanish and Italian? You would think they'd use French into the made up languages, as they are Canadian based, but guess not.

*Rhaps*

So I've got these songs from Cirque du Soleil, and you know Cirque - they're WEIRD. I can't figure out what language these lyrics come from; i had one helluva time just finding the lyrics. There are a few songs, all from Dralion. The first one sounds Hindi, so maybe Indian, phonetically? The second song sounds tribal, very rhythmic. And the last song was performed while Chinese children skipped rope on stage. But I can recognize Chinese, as I am Chinese. So some other Asian language, spelled phonetically?

(1) Spiritual Spiral

Imsigo vailen so

Imsigo vailen so

Ueiram devuedim vol

Imsigo vailen so

Imsigo vailen so

Imsigo vailen so

Ueriam devuedim vol

Imsigo vailen so

Aya ya ya ya yay, aya

Aya ya ya ya yay, aya

Imsigo vailen so

Imsigo vailen so

Ueiram devuedim vol

Imsigo vailen so

(2) Ravendhi

Sori, lofirre desore

Mose, lavide cierrose lodi,

Sofirra degonse

Indigo yavandeo,

Lavendi somde

Umyame yamelo reidighela

Umyame yamelo reidia

Umyame yalemo

Lai lai lai lai lai…..

Umyamelo reida

Umyame yamelo reidia

Umyame yame

(3) Kamande

Kamande, kamande

Kamanyero

Donze, Lucite

Jarondhiri ghetzero

Mastudire erite, yivandhe

Jarondhisi fedhero

Kasondire rite, yasanase

Kamande kamandayero ton,

Kamandayero

Gonzenghozdi de,

Kamande kamandayero con,

Masugalhiero, yavandhe

Hambandhe leritei isiero,

Hambandhe esnute, konzhero

Lambambhe kerite, sinero

Lasudhame konze sibores,

Ma….

Jarondhiri ghetzero

Mastudire erite, yivande

Jarondhisi fedhero,

Kasondire rite,

Jarondhisi fedhero,

Kasondire rite, yasanase

*Rhaps*

Happy 20th Zariah!

Falcon, I'm completely blown away by your skill. You totally merit your poet standing. I love the way you are able to put concepts into words (and yes, Eternal Sunshine was an incredible movie, but so sad). I've always had this theory that memory is all we have, and that our past is the only indicator and justifier of who we are. Wipe that away, and you've got nothing. Or you've got a clean slate. However you wanna look at it.

Would the rose's petals of crimson hue

Still be that way, if not gave due?

I don't know if you meant to imply this in any way, but I was tickled to death that "due" could be a pun on "dew".

If we were both to forget our time

Would our lust have burned so high?

Love your implications here, but I suggest replacing "lust" with something that doesn't carry such a negative connotation. Unless of course, you're going for that purely physical desire-of-the-flesh thing.

Would instead the fire be put out

From merely the forgetting of all throughout?

Something about the way you worded this really chilled me (in a good way). I think it had to do with the contrast of "merely" and "forgetting" cuz forgetting is a huge, not mere, deal. And it was also something about the rhythm of the lines, how they rolled off the tongue. I LOVED how you put the verb forget in the present tense.

Right, and the heather thing. Nice rhyme.

Brilliant poem, rather thought-provoking. Kudos, Falcon.

*Rhaps*

Lol. Oh, I get it now. I just re-read it with new eyes and saw it in a whole new light. Talk about epiphany.

Very clever, btw, to entitle it night walker. I've never thought of strumpets that way.

*hugs Wren back*

I love how the poem starts, what with the silence of the birds...that's always creepy, and the feeling that the air 'sways'.

to make some space for

the clouds to exhale long and slow

Wow, the imagery!

where the wind is keeping time

to that muted drumbeat

behind those purple folds

where the thunder's fixing

to dance for us tonight.

Again, I can just picture the sky. The poem seems almost ritualistic...what with the thunder dance and all, and the "muted drumbeat". But it also sounds kinda southern to me: "fixing to dance...."

Kudos.

*Rhaps*

My path crosses none

Save the diminishing threads

Of my backtracked wanderings

Opening to the wastes of spiritual solitude.

Wow. I think my fave phrase was the "diminishing threads of backtracked wandering". Talk about despair!

Where the dreams of my longing

Find hope, and with frail wings

Carry my blackened heart

Home.

I absolutely love how you end it. And I love the "frail wings" part. The entire poem conjures to my mind an angel who has lost his love. I was really disturbed by the beginning...the loss of the soul part. But bravo! I hope to see more of your work in the future!

*Rhaps*

Lol, that's not what I meant, Quincunx. The poem has more than one part and I just wanted to indicate that's its been updated in the title. Yeah, I'm proud to have bought off my weenie-ness. That part definitely stays.

Thanks, Lady Celes, for the info.

Is there a way to modify the title of one's post? Or is only the text allowed to be editted?

Thanks to a certain Elf king and raptor. Much appreciated! Please check back for final installment.

2) Antistrophe: Post Parade*

Now on the track

Ridden by Fate.

Fate holds the reins;

She deigns

To choke my pride

Check my stride,

Curb my will

Break me in*, until

Cowed, I trot past the crowd

Crest down, head bowed.

Feel on my hip

The ready whip.

In this test

Am I merely

To be

Her conquest?

With each hoofbeat,

A puff of dust, a cloud of gold,

Let the heat

Melt the mold, make me bold

Unbridled*, never stifled

In this, the Sport of Kings*

I shall spin my own wings,

Take the bit in my teeth* and leap!

Away with the blinkers*

I am a wind drinker*

Growing rank* with sweat

Go place your bet.

Let me run. Gun. Stun.

Quicken my gait.

I see the starting gate.

*Post Parade: Pre-race warm-up in which all the horses step onto the track (single file in post-position order) and the announcer introduces each horse and jockey. Horses "parade" before the grandstand, where the majority of the audience sits.

*break in: Old West term. The brutal process by which wild horses were forcefully familiarized with the saddle and rider. Also "breaking the spirit".

*Unbridled: Free, without restraint. Also, the winner of the 1990 Kentucky Derby.

*Sport of Kings: Thoroughbred racing. Originally only nobility were wealthy enough to breed, own, and race Thoroughbreds.

*bit in teeth: Racing jargon. The forceful seizure of the bit (small metal bar of bridle, used to control the horse) by a horse while running, thus giving the horse, not the jockey, complete control. The bit usually rests atop the tongue, well back in the horse's mouth and out of the reach of the teeth. Only a careless jockey allows a horse to take the bit in its teeth.

*blinkers: A pair of leather flaps or cups attached to the bridle to limit a horse's peripheral vision, so it will not spook at distracting shadows, etc. (Concept: what a horse can't see, can't scare it)

*wind drinker: The Arabian horse, ancestor of the Thoroughbred. Often called "drinker of the wind" to indicate their speed and endurance. Bedouins believe Allah created the horse from the wind itself. Arabians have large flared nostrils, large windpipes, and deep chests to facilitate breathing and help endure desert races that were often 50+ miles long.

*rank: Racing jargon. Adjective used to describe a horse that is becoming uncontrollable, often due to overactive nerves (during a race) or a nasty temperament. Going rank is often marked by excessive sweat and lathering around the loins.

*Rhaps*

Let's see. I like the rhyme scheme, the whole ABC, ADC, etc. It gives the poem an interesting rhythm.

I gather someone is having a tryst with someone else late in the night? Is one of the lovers the night walker of the title?

No pride left to pass to kin

All is just automatic

Pressed up against the wall

I think I understand this verse, but not completely sure. I think the second line threw me. Is she (I'm assuming a girl cuz of the last line in the stanza) ashamed of what she's done; hence whatever she passes on is "automatic" - numb, devoid of emotion?

Now starts the tempest squall

The "tempest" - someone's guilt? Or reality?

I loved the last line. Some light after all the melancholy dark imagery.

I think my favorite lines definitely revolved around the rain and the sensory imagery surrounding it, a small part unrelated to plot, but so evocative. Bravo, Wren!

*Rhaps*

YES, I OGLED HIS ASS! --from an AIM conversation

*AIM is the spawn of Satan.* Just thought I'd share.

*Rhaps*

1) Strophe: Morning line odds*

In the course of life

I step into stride everyday.

Everyday—a day at the races.

I go through my paces,

Expected to run the usual distance.

Fight the resistance

Of lead* on my back,

Doubts weighing my saddle pack.

Feel the burden as I prance,

A nervous dance.

Before you and them and God,

All perusing the odds,

Willing to wager against me.

So easy

To be

A longshot.

Bet the blue-bloods,

The bluegrass-fed*, the better-bred.

Watch the studs,

The front-runners, or late-gunners.

Trust the well-conformed*, the well-informed,

The rich, the credentialed,

The connected, the substantial,

Those pre-stamped with the look of champs.

Future Hall-of-Famers?

Against me, the claimer*,

The dark horse

Who must stay the course.

Run the heat. Get beat. Repeat.

About time.

Go check the morning line.

*Morning-line odds: A handicapper's predictions on what each horse's odds will be come race time. Usually published in morning edition of the Daily Racing Form.

*lead: Lead weights inserted into saddle bags; theoretically equalizes the field (proven horses carry more weight, unproven ones, less) so that the horses should finish in a dead heat

*bluegrass: highly nutritious fodder for Thoroughbreds that grows mainly in Kentucky

*conformed: how a horse's parts are put together (long legs, sloping shoulders, broad chest, etc), often a good indicator of on-track performance

*claimer: The lowest rung of racing, claiming races are where underachieving horses run, who can be purchased or "claimed" by anyone with cash after the race. Generally have defects, which is why trainers put them up for claim.

*Rhaps*

Hmmmm, very sad.

I like the reference to the muse. What happened to her? Gone? Of was she always just an inspiration for the writer?

Love the light imagery in the first stanza.

Once I stood alone upon a sheltered cliff,

I looked to the sea, seeing once again the majesty of nature,

Humble before the power of the Creator's works.

This seems like a key location. Site of loss?

Lost to my thoughts I write, my heart burning

As the black flame of ink scorches the page.

My favorite lines. The "black flame of ink" especially effective. Nicely linked to the "heart burning".

Interesting that you opted for no rhyme scheme. It does have a certain rhythm though. Effective. Bravo.

*Rhaps*

LMAO!

How else to keep the little Weenie

and all of its folding skin clean...y?

Now that's my kinda rhyming!

Yay for a fellow Weenie! It's so true...life intrudes. Wow, sounds like your life is increibly busy. Are you in med school? But it sounds as if you're enjoying yourself with the Japanese sword fighting.

Come back soon and a happy Thanksgiving to you.

*Rhaps*