Alaeha

Alaeha wandered into the Cabaret room, taking a seat quickly, as she was still weary from her recent travels. Even tired as she was, though, she could see the long parchment hanging from the board, and the group of people around it. She forced herself back to her feet, curious as to what such a parchment could say. "A Seeress?" She chuckled to herself. She'd heard of Madame Quixotic in the past... she'd most certainly heard of her. She'd told tales about the Madame on more than one occasion; usually when passing on a horror story to young children, to be told around a campfire, or when someone needed a good joke. Then her laughter died in her throat as she read the list of those who had signed up. So Peredhil was being read... and Salinye as well. They had really meant it when they said that they wanted to show respect for the Seeress. "I suppose I might as well get a reading as well." she sighed. "The worst she can say is that I'll be getting more of the usual... and I already knew that..." Hastily scrawling her name on the bottom of the list, Alaeha went back to her seat and her brooding, setting the matter of the visitor to the side within her mind for a time in favor of more troubling matters.

So... I have finally started writing poems again. My apologies for my absence. I was in the midst of a huge bout of depression spawned by having trusted the wrong person. Anyways... this poem took longer to write than most, as I started it some months ago, forgot about it, then finished it the other day. Lost Purity I know that you have seen the lands, from rolling sea to mountain height. I know you've seen the rainbow bands of prisms breaking up the light. But have you ever seen the mane of glist'ning, silk-soft pearls? The show'ring of the tear-drop rain from eyes with mystic whirls? Oh, have you seen the Unicorn, its beauty unsurpassed? That creature with a healing horn... I knew it could not last. The world has grown too harsh for such a pure and wondrous life as hers, and now it ne'er again shall touch the hooves on legs of snow white furs. A horrid storm, a flash of light... I lost her, though I tried to bring her back into this night 'mid day. Tears came, I cried. The world can not support itself. The Unicorn has died.

Hmm... the rhythm could use some work... but that's to be expected with something that's just being begun. Perhaps it would be improved by changing: With a few sharp words you broke my heart to With razor words, you broke my heart. or cold, sharp words, or some such. Not sure what sort of effect you're trying for with the second bit, though... Whether it's supposed to be verse or free form. I like this, though. *Hugs*

Well, "In the End" and "Easier to Run" (By Linkin Park) are closer than Government Work has ever required... and "My December" is closer yet. But if I have to make one up... It'd have to be done by Weird Al, parodying Evanescence's "My Immortal". "My own Chortle" or some such. "I laugh at the world because I fear that if I did not laugh, I would cry." (A misquotation of David Edding's Silk, in the Malloreon)

Happy Birthday Tass! May your penguins multiply like cancer cells. ... Or not, if you don't want an avian tumor. It's up to you. But either way, I hope you had fun. My apologies for my tardiness. *Hugs*

Only one of that sort that I know of offhand is a Limerick (I know... Insert groans here) which has a syllable count of 8 8 5 5 8. Though I did once write a poem with quatrains wherein the A lines were written in anapestic pentameter and the B lines in anapestic trimeter. It was an interesting poem. I'll get to work on it. I've had an... interesting past couple days. Wound up spending large amounts of time in a group of people who included my ex. (Who, of course, being the one who did the dumping, is quite ready to go on with life and be "just friends". *Sighs*)

Well, it's logical that you'd "see" black, because black is the absence of light and color. With your eyes not registering anything, it would seem to me that such would constitute an absence of color. Thus it would be black. Though I see what you mean... The question, then, is whether you cease or continue to exist when you die.

*Laughs* I like that.

I'd pretty much run out of ideas and have been unable to write much of late... but with Salinye's return has come mention of these, so I may as well at least try to continue these, as it appears that they haven't universally faded from memory... though I'm ashamed to admit that I had forgotten them myself with everything else I've been trying to sort out of late. I'm just trying to get this thing going again at this point, so I'll take something cheap and easy. It's a good exercise though. Make a stanza of at least four lines with an even rhythm (a rhythm of your choice) with a rhyme scheme (if you can call this a scheme) of AAAA etc etc ad nauseum. (Every line rhymes with every other rhyme) Preferably perfect rhymes, such as Shock, Rock, Walk, Caulk, Chalk, Chock, Lock, etc. (As opposed to imperfect rhymes, such as Time, Sign, and such) And with little further ado, my poor example: Regret is such a burden, I can't bear to think of what I had. Love is so rare. You can't change feelings like the clothes you wear, much as I wish I could, for then I'd tear myself from this depression. It's unfair that one can crush another without care (or nearly so) like shedding so much hair. But this is getting boring, I'm aware, so now I'll end this demonstrating dare. (Not that good, but it's hard to say much within such confines. It's easier to write a sonnet)

Momentarily stunned by her promotion to Quill-Bearer, Alaeha first sought out Salinye. After breaking the wonderful news to the sleepy wizardess, she then proceeded to hunt down Ayshela. "You see? I keep telling you that you're better than you think you are..." She murmured to her friend amidst a congratulatory hug. Sorry to see this late, but I've had difficulties with my computer that have only recently been fixed. Congratulations to all!

I thought it was "Mahwedge" that bwaught us togevvuh todeh. Love is the most misused word in the english language.

Happy Birthday! *Hugs*

I Heart Alice in Wonderland. I always wanted a dress like hers. And the movie had some of the zaniest little ideas... Never had the patience to read the book, though.

What rule set are you referring to? The Wizard's First Rule is "People are stupid". Just ask Terry Goodkind. He hasn't disclosed the second, yet, though.

Unless, of course, that was a typo and you really meant "Internet from 2 to 10"... In which case, I've done that on more than one occasion. But if you really do get things done in your sleep, you must tell us how. I, for one, would triple my productivity... during summer, at least.

Interesting... But isn't it redundant to call something a poem and say that you made it up as you went along? A good poem, though the rhythm could use a bit of work... perhaps it's just me (and feel free to ignore me or shoot me down here if that's the case) but the pace of this seems too hurried... It's in the third lines that it always seems to get me. Not sure why. For the lines to work for me they wound up coming out as "and try to drown", "[i}'cause[/i] you can't die" (or "you cannot die"), "is falling down" (or "you're falling down"). That sort of thing. Perhaps I'm just being overly critical. My apologies if that's it. *Hugs* My penny's worth.

Heh, impressive... Not many people even experiment with writing in the second person. It's an interesting look at a somewhat disturbing topic... Bleh... I've got nothing to say. *Sighs* I liked this... But then, I'm somewhat demented at times, myself.

18? Really? I know I've got a bottle of Ye Olde Fart cologne around here somewhere... Happy Birthday... *Hugs*

Might as well continue the trend of poetic response... Even though I've never done good work on the fly like this. Want to be there for you, e'en not knowing you that well. Wish that I could undo it so that you never fell. Life strikes us all at once, for half the people that I know are shattered, and that shunts the burden onto those who show no sign of knowing how to act. They don't know what to do. All I can do is state a fact... I'm hiding here, with you.

Might as well toss in my penny's worth... Don't think I have two cents left anymore... Anyway... Whether someone can be taught to write depends on what you mean by teach. You can certainly show someone the forms of poetry, for example... and you can critique. But to give someone a step by step outline of how to write in Dactyllic Hexameter? Not likely. The best you can do is show them examples of it and hope they get a feel for it. Likewise with prose. The best ways to learn to write prose are to read, and to write. There are some things that need to have attention called to them, but style can't really be taught. Laws of Magic are often overlooked... There has to be a price to Magic. So now you have my penny...

*Sighs* Well, there's no way that we can keep you here... And it wouldn't be "write" to keep you against your will. But make sure you check in from time to time. And don't you dare leave without a hug... *Hugs*

Alaeha tries to join into the group hug, only to find that, having arrived too late, she can't actually reach Vincent. Thinking for a moment, she climbs gently onto Ayshela's shoulders and, with mumbled apologies, joins the group hug from her new position. Sorry about that... I suppose it's a good thing I'm an Elf, rather than an Ogre. If you ever need a one on one, Vincent (or anyone else) I'm more than willing to be your listening ear.

Alaeha struggles to rein in a smile which threatens to run rampant, sending her into a fit of laughter. Ok... I'm fine. I was saying that Religious Doctrine and High School Education should both be taken with a bit of salt, which is to say Skepticism. I refer, of course, to the doctrine which is given, unsupported, by a fellow human. Humans are, after all, prone to making mistakes. Crap, on the other hand, should be taken with a shovel, and placed in a field some place. Or alternatively, if in the form of young children's diapers, it can be placed in a trash compactor, placed in a very strong garbage bag, and dropped on the capital of an enemy nation during times of war. Though I have suspicions that such an attack would be considered use of Biological Weaponry, and be in violation of the Geneva Convention. My apologies for the disturbance and confusion.

Don't feel bad... I've been blocked for quite some time. The most creative thing I've written lately was the farce I wrote for my Creative Writing Class when we had to write mysteries. I skipped straight to the stereotypical "Unveiling" scene, and mocked the whole thing every step of the way.

Happy Birthday! And in the words of Bing Crosby: "May your days be merry and bright... And may all your Christmases be white." Err... Ok, that last bit is optional. You may mentally amend that to Birthdays if you'd like a White Birthday.