Alaeha

Personally, I'd recommend an alternative outfit: matching Bathrobe and Pants. Preferably several sizes too large, and definitely in flannel. Failing that, you could try doing martial arts in a Toga? *Is very much a not-martial-arts person*

Hmm... I was just going to guess that Sal took too much sugar with her morning beverage...

Female who shall remain nameless: "I couldn't change my clothes this morning. It wouldn't save."

"He's a far better illithid than we." -- My DM quoting something. "Jessica, you're on top." -- My Choir Director "Will you put some clothes on and stop poking her?" -- My Father

Well, it would if you were dealing with a greek city-state of Bloodsucking Vermin.

Bwahaha! And I'm 45 minutes early yet! Happy Birthday!

Fascinating, Rev. Within one breath, you completely negate any semblance of credibility you may have attained in that post. Toss in an implication that anyone disagreeing with you is blind and only those who agree with you are reasonable -- but the poor morons would be fine if they'd stop being childish -- and we've got quite an interesting message. *Shrugs* That's why I typically stay out of these threads. Alaeha wanders off, muttering, "Discuss the ideas, not the people who have them. Is that really so hard?

Nice. I'd have to say that I like it better than any of my "romantic" poems. The pace is fast. Very fast. It seems like you took three sonnets' worth of material and crammed it into one -- which I'd have to say is a good thing, since you did it well. One of the greatest strengths of poetry is brevity. A good novel is roughly 300-800 pages, typically. A good poem is roughly 10-30 lines, typically. (Because it takes more effort to crank out a solid page of decent poetry than two solid pages of decent prose, for the average person) As for whether or not to show it to the girl... Couldn't say. It depends on the girl. And no, Romance isn't dead... it's just pining for the fields. ;P Good luck. I, for one, would be honored to have someone write a poem of this quality for me.

Wheeeeee! A flying Alaeha tacklehugs the Loremaster, knocking him off of his swivel chair with a loud crashing noise. There. That should keep your tacklehug supply up until we can get the big guns in here.

Legendary, but yet... remarkably weenie-like. Welcome back!

You could write about a Dungeon Master who's possessed by a Fiend, and runs around throwing dice at people for real damage (tossing a six-sided die at someone, hitting them, and creating a ten inch long gash in their arm if when it lands, a six is face up.) His former players are then given "Holy Dice" which can damage the fiend possessing him without harming the DM himself. At the end of the story, the DM dies and the players are plane-shifted to a world bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Forgotten Realms. Or you could write about a couple of people who go off on a mission (sponsored by some higher power or another -- Extraplanar Beings or the Government, I'd think) to eradicate Porn. Or a story about a Guy (or a Girl,) who goes around Redeeming sappy romantics and teaching them to see reason. "If you feel like you need a girl to validate your existence so that you aren't a waste of oxygen, I don't care how many amazing girls like you == you ARE a waste of oxygen."

Honestly, it doesn't seem terribly poem-y. More like a recording of your stream of thought -- though I'm sure I don't sound like that when I'm thinking... though I don't have streams of thought so much as hailstorms. They go all over the place with no apparent pattern. Good vocabulary to it, certainly... and it doesn't usually feel like you were flipping through a thesaurus to find a way to sound like an "intellectual." Were it longer, I'd honestly recommend putting it in the Assembly room, though. (I'd suggest considering it anyway.) *Shrugs* It's interesting, one way or another.

Stu...dy...? Is that that thing that the people do with the looking at the book and the looking constipated and the looking at the book some more and the muttering and the throwing the book across the room? *Hopes Mynx hasn't been horribly cruel to her books... unless they deserved it.* Good luck!

I'm afraid I don't have time to come up with an elaborate post and/or party, but I'll kick things off anyway. Alaeha sends an army of Tiny People out to hunt Jonathon Wolfe down and tackle-hug him mercilessly. That'll teach you to go and get older on us. Silly person, turning 21...

Of the two sonnets, I'd have to say I liked the first one (Part 2) better. It was, on the whole, better done. It adhered to the form of a Shakespearean sonnet more closely, though I have to admit that when I first scanned it, I was expecting a Petrarchan/Italian sonnet, based on the formatting. The third quatrain in it was definitely my favorite part of it, though I'm not sure whether that makes me a disturbed person or not? For the second poem, I've got a couple of suggestions... In the second line of your second stanza (A simple poet) "trying" throws the rhythm off a bit (it puts an extra unstressed syllable into the line) You could avoid that by either chopping the extra syllable there somehow (choosing a monosyllable to replace it) or by altering "to make" in that way. I'd give a couple of examples, but the best I'm coming up with right now is "struggling through" to replace "trying to make". I like what I'm reading here, for the most part... but the rhythmical difficulties and the imperfect rhymes (I'm-Line, and awe-pure) distract a bit. Any time you change the form you're using, it draws the reader out of the text and makes them look at the form of the text for a minute, and you don't often want that. Keep working at it, though. You're off to a good start.

I have to admit, I'm a little confused, Rev. Check me on this if I'm wrong, but from what I can see, what you're saying is that a rhyme which is not immediately followed by a pause is probably forced? Admittedly, most of this poems is slightly forced, (and it's certainly nothing I'm immensely proud of,) as I'm just starting to work some of the kinks out of my system again... but I wasn't aware of any official decree being put out mandating end-stopped lines. ;P But then, I wasn't aware of any particular pause between nouns and verbs anyway. Or am I just completely misreading your post? Yui (and Drummondo)-- Hmm... Where there any rhymes that seemed particularly contrived? Or were you referring to the fact that typically people don't have conversations (let alone arguments) in quatrains? As for the required explanation, I'd have to say I think it's a bad thing. (That doesn't surprise me, though) And the ending... I suppose I could have extended it further, but I couldn't think of a good way to convey the idea of blue slapping red and running out of the room crying. I hadn't really considered the possibilities of Schizophrenia. I viewed it more as "Blue is incredibly codependent, Red tolerated blue but never had much to do with it because red doesn't want to get caught up in the drama. (and is afraid it might be contagious) But then blue decides that red is the new "Knight in Shining Armor" model of hero/heroine. Assuming that they don't censor themselves, what happens?" Unrealistic and improbable, but it made for an interesting contrast of characters and ideas.

Heh, I'm long overdue for a poem, so I'll present this (and hope that I still have some remnant of ability with poetics.) Red and Blue are two different voices, representing two different kinds of people. Red talks more, but mostly because blue doesn't have much to say. ;P I love you, every piece you've shown. How sad. You make me sick, for that. But why? Love conquers nothing. Tone your rubbish down. Truth is, I've sat through all this nonsense far too long. You lie.I don't! Your flaws do not detract or even mar You see? You lie! You see (or saw) a flaw. Imperfect parts detract. I'd love you less without it, so It's not a flaw? Just stop the act. You may be blind, but I still know myself. Stop lying. You're a fool. You've tricked yourself. Go think things through. I'm not a liar, as a rule. So I am? Is your "love" that true?

I know the feeling of the poem. Personally, I'd recommend that since there's no apparent structure to the piece, you re-reverse "me desert" back to "desert me". The former makes the last line somewhat Iambic, to match the first, but I'd rather read something intelligible. Personally, I'd always thought the title-phrase made more sense if you said "Sleep is for the Week," as that left the weekend for playtime, but that's just me.

Woo! Happy Birthday Tralla! You never get to be called a "Stupid Teen" again. *Hugs*

Hmm... Bleeding to death always seemed like a kind of nifty way to die. Though, admittedly, not as nifty as falling into a vat of molten plastic. I'm hoping to be beaten to death by the people who come to my funeral and find out that I'm not actually dead, but I just aimed for about a week early to see who would come. Honestly, one of the things that horrifies me is the idea of being one of those Overly Romantic (Read: CoDependent) Saps who defines their existence in terms of someone else, and hates it when said person is not around. Second would have to be finding anyone who defined their existence in terms of me. After that comes the experience of being lost. After that comes losing my sense of control over my perspective and identity. Took me a while to take back the ability to decide for myself whether I like something or not. I'm not giving it away again.

And the mass of gender confusion which can never figure out which to call itself online (even with those who know its real gender) is 17ish. And my friends in the 19-20-some range keep forgetting that. Go figure. I must be wearing Pants of Nondescription?

Hmm... I was expecting something like "You overclock my CPU, my chip is set aflame, my screen is turning white and blue. It makes me feel so 14m3!"

Maybe they just don't want to be eaten by Canids. ;P

Umm... yeah. Just pretend that I said what Gwai said, but in a much more eloquent manner. Even though in reality all I can think to say right now is "Happy Birthday!" ... But that's ok, because I'm creating a massive army of colossal huggles to swarm you when you read this thread again.

Yeah. They are hard. That's why I've only ever been able to make myself sit down and write two. You did a pretty good job with this, I'd say. The rhythm is rough, but over-all it's better than the average of what I've read here, I'd say.