Mira

Good stuff, and I must echo Peredhil here. "Post more of your poetry. " Its so very good.

Stupid Bio Lab stoping me from tuning in Maybe if I sneek out early I can catch the tail end. Good luck Wyvern and Zariah.

Thank you all. Your thoughts and words have helped to make it a truly happy birthday.

They were watching a movie But we didn't feel like joining So we headed outside Into the cool night air The grass still tried to hold on To the warmth of the day I noticed As we lay down upon it To stare at the stars Other then the hushed whisperings Of the wind that rushed through The bare lonely branches of trees The world was silent It was not a awkward silence though It was knowing and peaceful So we held on to each other And tried to stop the world

Her hand in mine, Fingers entwined I'm squeezing too tight and I know it. She smiles at me And I loosen my grip, We rearrange hands To another perfect fit. Its so new Every second is new Every feeling the first. -------------------------- Her eyes, / They're so beautiful / as they gaze into mine. / They see past my weakness; / Past my outwardly flaws They see me. / Those are the first set of eyes. / The first set of eyes that see me. -------------------------- a kiss is an odd thing it starts in the eyes you gaze down into her eyes through them the only way to stop yourself from drowning in those eyes is to close yours and at that moment some force pulls you Eros pushes your lips to hers they are soft softer then anything you have ever felt you want to stay there forever breathing life into each other something pulls you apart and it ends where it started in the eyes

Sorry if this is a little lengthy, I guess I got carried away. Name: Kalaric Andentia Concept: Avenging Warrior Race: Human Gender: Male Eyes: Brown Hair: Redish Brown Height: 6' 2" Weight: 210 Bio: The tale of Kalaric Andentia is a sad one, though as of yet incomplete. Born the second son of a peasant couple his was to be a life of back breaking work not adventure and glory. His carefree childhood was cut short when, at the age of five, his mother and older brother fell prey to a horrible wasting plague that spread like wildfire through the farming communities and poor towns of the land. Forced to aid his father in the fields, as well as tend to his younger sister Yalanna, he quickly learned to handle his own burdens without allowing them to fall to the shoulders of others. For twelve years Kalaric toiled sunrise to sunset, and that arduous labor sculpted his body accordingly. At seventeen years of age he looked like a large man in his early twenties, and was faster and stronger then any man for fifteen leagues. It was these exact qualities that drew the King's Men to his doorstep when the time came for his father's house to fulfill its the oaths to Lord and land. Every household was called to surrender one able-bodied man to serve the King in his time of need, and Kalaric knew that it was he that must go, since his father had to take care of the farm and Yalanna. The King's Army is where he learned to handle a sword, and although he was only involved in a one major engagement and handful of small skirmishes, he managed to learn enough of war to know that he both loves and despises it. The rush of battle was almost intoxicating. While in the heat of combat Kalaric felt more alive then ever, but like a bad high, the come down was hell. He watched helpless as new friends and respected leaders were cut down like the autumn harvest. As a result of his experiences with war, he only resorts to violence as a last resort, all though he will not hesitate to draw blood if friends or innocents are in need. Kalaric's homecoming should have been a joyous occasion, but it was not so. When he returned to his village he learned that brigands had taken advantage of the lack of a local military presence and raided many of the farms in the area. The villagers had found his father's body outside of the smoldering remains of their home, but his sister was nowhere to be found. After a time it became clear that she had been abducted by the bandits, presumably to be sold into slavery. With nothing left to anchor him to the only place he had ever called home, Kalaric set to wand ering.

I would be interested in playing, doesn't matter on the setting.

Without so much as a word, Mira grabbed his belongings from the closet where Salinye had said they were and dumped the contents out into a small pile in the middle of the floor. Once he was satisfied that everything was still there he picked out his daggers from the other items, and deftly made them disappear into his coat sleeves, boot tops and a handful of other places where they could be easily hidden, and more importantly, easily retrieved at a moments notice. When he looked up again at Salinye, her eyes were shut and her head had fallen lazily to one side like some sort of overgrown rag doll. He jumped over to her and gently shook her back to attention. She never opened her eyes, but mustered the strength to pull her head back upright, letting out a slight moan that illustrated the effort of the task. The wound at her side was still bleeding, though the flow had dwindled to all but a trickle. She's so pale, he thought to himself. Please let her find the strength to make it long enough. He realized he had no idea how long "long enough" would be, but shook the thought out of his head before it was able to set roots. "We need to get you somewhere safe" Mira said as he stooped down and wrapped one of his arms behind her neck and the other beneath her knees. "If there's one bounty hunter, there could be more." Then he stood up with Salinye in his arms and turned towards the door. Since he had seen her open the door to admit Gyrfalcon and Daryl, he had no problem opening it himself, or as little problem was possible when carrying an injured elven lady. Once outside the door though, he realized he had no idea where he was going. Jokingly he said, "I bet you're wishing you had given me the full tour now", but if Salinye heard him she showed no sign. Once again pushing terrible thoughts out of his mind he tried to access the situation. From what he remembered from his brief view out of Sal's fourth story window before he was so rudely pulled back in, there was a corridor that attached Gyrfalcon's tower to the rest of the keep on the ground level. Maybe there was someone there who could help Salinye there, or at the very least, someplace where they could be safe until the fighting was done. Not for the first time, Mira wondered how he had managed to let a girl and promises of wealth get him into such a mess as he rushed down the steep stairwell and into the main keep.

Why are we asking all of these questions?

"God put me on this earth to accomplish a certain number of things. Right now I am so far behind that I will never die." -Calvin & Hobbes-

Funny I was thinking of a number of poets, and you were one of them drummondo. Besides drummondo I was reminded of the works of Cryptomancer, Cyril, Hopperwolf, Justin Silverblade, Wyvern, Yui-chan, Zadown and probably a whole other slew of poets around here.

If you're not suppose to respond to your own line I'm sorry, but she ^ forced me "Words are not enough." said the mother As she tucked the daughter into bed "Not enough to let you know my love for you." And she brushed back the hair on the daughter's head "Words are not enough!" screamed the Girl. "I hate you more then words can tell!" And the Boy just stood and watched her go, As his heart slipped slowly into Lovers-Hell "Words are not enough." sobbed the Old Man, Who knelt before the sacred stone, "I never thought it would be like this; That you'd leave me here alone." "Words are never enough," I write. "To convey the thoughts of my humble heart. I'm forced to write my half-wrought poems Or else be torn apart."

Can I pass up a line possed by Salinye? Laughter penetrates the silence That filled the space between us How long has it been since we've laughed together? How long since we've both let down our walls? Too long. The last traces of mirth seem to linger As if to make up for lost time And replacing the laughter is once again silence Accompanied with two knowing smiles. Obviously not. And now if no one objects I would like to submit the following line. "Words are not enough."

The always verbose Mira clears his throat before beginning another speech that seemingly lacks both purpose and end.

Its just a dollar-fifty to start anew Throw in your colors Or throw in your whites And add some detergent, just a cup will do. Press the black button and away we go. Now just sit back and enjoy the show. Around, around and around some more. Your foot taps patiently on the floor The buzzer sounds on the mystic machine. And lo and behold your cloths are clean. Its silly, but I had some time to kill while waiting for a dryer to open up.

Thank You for this poem; that reminds me to thank the ones I love for all they do for me.

Excellent. Short, but just long enough to be excellent.

Yes Katzaniel, both you and Zadown were absolutely correct, it was The Wheel of Time. And I know yours, but I'll PM you my guess so I don't spoil it for others

Donnie Darko? For my riddle of sorts I have created this. Be a sheephearder, to stand against the Shadow. Feel the Power, and bend the threads. Bring salvation in destruction. And let the Dragon ride again on the winds of time. Or read the book

I ran into an old friend the other day A kid I knew from a past life A boy I had laughed with growing up A man who had disappeared like fog in the Sun He said life was good Though he had lost his job Was without company at night And hadn't really talked to another soul in days But his prospects were good A new job could be found A new love would come around With whom he could confide The responses were automatic His eyes gave him away Those dull, hollow eyes I had a million questions to ask Had he talked to whats'hisface Did he know what ever happened to that girl But before I got the chance to ask He excused himself and left And faded away like fog in the Sun Can this remove my Weenie Award?

The world paused for an instant after this stanza. The way you feel like you know someone just because you see them every day, feel you know everything about them. Those simple things, as you put it, that bubble up without warning in the solitude of night, and force us to dream of what may have happened. That draws one to imagine where the people we once knew have gone. I pray for her Cyril. I don't know if the above counts as feedback, its really just what I felt and thought of after reading "Mary Beth"

Loved "Dropping Heads", but when I was on your dmusic.com page I also checked out "On Life", and I have to say that one blew me away. Your reading of it is haunting. I ment to say this earlier, but I'm glad you came over here from the Ultimante Guitar forums

With the help of Cyril's suggestions I've rewriten the second half of this peice. Oaken doors creek on dead, rusted hinges Within the deserted house of our love. This building is haunted, by ghosts of ourselves Who stumble and search for each other in the habitual dark. How did we get to this? How did we let the house, which stood so proud, fall into disrepair? With unanswered questions that poisoned the air. With sorrowful glances of fleeting despair.

The importance of this debate has prompted a friend and myself to settle it once and for all. For the next ten years we shall each scour the earth for armies of unimaginable terror. Mine is to consist of only pirates, while his will be comprised of only ninjas. When the set time period of ten years is finally at its end, we will meet on the field of battle and put this mystery to an end. Of course we could always just join forces and conquer the world with our unstopable Ninja-Pirate Army.

That's a handicapped parking sign the Calico Jack is attached to. And sorry if the picture is a little huge.