Parmenion

They let anyone in these days stop with those funny looks! They let me in didn't they? Welcome to the pen BehindBlindEyes! Class reply Wyvern

Initially when I clicked on this poem a mass of words sprung up into my face and I got that creepy "ew" feel. Mainly because I'm a cranky old fart who likes things being easy on eyes to read Nevertheless I read through this work several times. Its good and touches on a subject that I feel a lot of us, not only the young, have to put with. The poem itself does an excellent job of highlighting an opinion that is obviously yours but that a lot of people in general could also relate to in one form of another. That is to say, the supression of thought, behaviour or speech. I would suggest a more readable format for the poem could be something like this: Who are you to tell me what to be? Who are you to limit what I see? You who judge all that is untrue, Through the eyes that belong to you. Constant rebellion is not the way... The way to voice what you have to say. If that be so then how does one fight? Fight for whats in their opinion right! And why has originality lost its truth? Purity wasted on the youth. I guess ill just close my eyes and walk blind like the rest, Ignore my mind and seldom do my best. These lines: They are the most powerful for me. How else is one supposed to express themselves? It depends of course on a person's perspective on the word rebellion but I would feel it means standing up for what you believe in either through actions or speech. This is a marvellous couplet - very strong. Which is followed by an equally strong and sturdy couplet: touche! The second last line was too long for me and throws out the entire flow of the poem. An abbreviated line saying the same could easily be re-worked without much trouble. Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed reading this.

Always makes me feel like I have found some treasure when I randomly scroll back through old poems that I would have missed when I'm away for a while and when I come across a little gem like this! Initially the poem came across to me as a wandering train of thought till I read it a second time and found it has great cohesion and ties in nicely at the end with a love conquers all evil type feel. Well...I mean evil as society patents it today, which isn't necessarily evil depending on your subjectives views in that regard...okay I'll shut up on my tangent!! Suffice to say I enjoyed the read Falcon. Thanks for sharing.

Like Peter Andre's Insania? I kid. Thats the great thing about imagination as so well pointed out in your poem - it beats the stuffing out of reality a lot of the time but too much can be unhealthy too. Next time you're off on one of those daydreams take me with ya won't ya? *jumps up and down waving*

These feelings that you sought to hide, These feelings that you don't confide, These feelings that you can't abide, These feelings drag you down inside... Enough to make you suicide. These thoughts are wrapped around you still, These thoughts I write now with this quill, These thoughts are hung upon that pill, These thoughts seem little more than swill... Enough to know you've had your fill. Yet as you fall down to your knees, I'll catch you with my prayers and pleas, For love shares all the hurt and pain, Let this not be your refrain... For trapped within your hidden thoughts, Are countless wisdoms I have sought, Share them with me, show me how, They cause those furrows in your brow. There is much to do before we die, To lay beneath some foreign sky, To drink and laugh on times gone by, Oh how our dreams and hopes will fly! Life is short but sweet its true, A sweetness lost - without you. *hugs*

I felt on reading this poem that it had the air of a masterpiece about it. It was beautifully written and the images as Sorciere says spring easily to the mind. The work of a true bard!! I felt the fifth verse was fine and works well with the rest of the poem. The only part that let the poem down was the last verse and with a minor modification I think the idea of the last verse can be kept without dramatic changes. Might I suggest this and you can see if it works for you?: Searchers, Dreamers all, beneath Our bodies lie and press cold heath, Calm, enconced in a self made wreath, There, there she breathed a sigh, There, there I went to die. Heath works well in that your poem generally takes from the simple surrounding to paint a picture. Since heath can mean a type of grassland, it could be construed to the reader in line three on the last verse that the heath forms like a wreath around the bodies. Just a thought and hope it helps. Again, I very much enjoyed reading this poem and hope to see more from you.

If life is just a mission, To research all the pains, To beat us to submission, with no real worthy gains... Which other time would suit? Whose fault to cast your blame? This one bears no fruit? This one just seems lame? If our choices are the reasons why sometimes we feel life is not working out for us then how is it so that we can also think in the same breadth that destiny is being forced upon us. Either we are subject to the whims or fate or we are not In relation to the title itself I hope I do not seem like I am spamming if I quote George Carlin: "The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgement, more experts, yet more problems. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have manipulated our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life NOT life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbour. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. These are the times of fast food and slow digestion. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses but broken homes. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Life is not measured by the number of breadths we take, but by the moments that take our breadth away." I think he may sum up what you were trying to get at, unsure. But he certainly sums up my philosophy and response to your poem kekeke. To conclude; we may not have been born in the most exciting of times, not one in which the communal spirit of humanity is at its strongest, but we were born in this time and there ain't no changing it so we may aswell make the most of it *hugs*

Bah - insurmountable odds are what life is all about. Challenge! And dunt worry Ayshela, if you fall lass one of us will be there to catch ya, have no fear! *breaks out the safety net and follows Ayshela around for a couple o' days* Class poem hun

The lines on your brow betray you, Your honesty does too. Your screams inside can't save you, The struggle will just brew. But what if you did tell her? Let us say she knew... This battle raging in yourself, Would be halved if shared by two.

Fantastic!! I did note the whole "trust is rotting meat" and "grave dog barking" as being the author's complete and utter disdain for what he perceived trust to be. I think that the insinuations in the alternate stanzas such as the one with the shouting mother, ruling judge etc.. are exceptionally well done. The tone of the entire poem allows that when reading those stanzas you know that these people are completely "untrustworthy" from the author's perspective anyway. In places the flow was mildly interrupted such as but I understand that putting "too late to save" throws off the rhyme and so I was happy enough just reading through it. Great work sir, keep them coming

Marvellous!! I enjoyed the ying and yang feel I had gotten from the first and last stanzas with the sprinkle of the author's personal turmoil or conflict in the middle stanzas. A unique style, one which I think you should be proud of.

I slip into the black hole, I try to get in, to find your pain, But you cannot hear me, As I call out time and time again. I am coming, Bringing with me the earth, To bring you back to your true self, To show you none go through life unhurt. Yet though you think you're beaten, There's a battle chant unsung, For this cold and dreary black hole... Is another challenge to overcome. So take this staff I give you, Lean on it till your strong, And venture forth beside me, Not alone, amidst the throng.

Being Irish I can sense the same kind of jubilation running through your poem as I would imagine my own kinsmen felt soon after that date when we gained our freedom from the English after 800 years of occupation. Thank you for reminding me just how much work some things take. Thank you for reminding me just how long and hard some toiled for the world in which we live today. Thank you for reminding me that human spirit is something not easily destroyed. A great poem and story well told. Well done Krista.

I want to meet these wrong cicle types you speak of so I can fuffle some feathers Personally I thought your use of the dove with love was great insofar as i took it that it was playing upon the whole Noah's Ark storm thingy and was trying to get across just how relentless and unyielding this rain actually is. Class work again Mira. I always do enjoy reading your poems (and how often have i said that!!) Parm.

One of the most inspired poems I have read in a long while. You have outdone yourself yet again Sorciere. Impeccable rhyming setting a scene of mystery about history. All of what we do not see when we glance, but what we may think upon as we stare. You cannot ever lose what you have. Its not something that can be lost or discarded. Just another of your many gifts. Well done.

I will try to drop by more

The first poem I liked in the fashion of the switching on and off of a light effect in a play. Made for a great silliloquay for some character thinking out loud. Given that I am prone to my meandering thoughts on occasion, forgive me in indulging in some subjective reflections this poem brought to light and some interesting questions and proposed answers. Would love to hear other people's thoughts on them too... other than life itself Not sure what you mean here. What is life? Love that question! I think the only explanations possible are not all encompassing answers. The answers for me are subjective. Each person may hold a different view on what life is for them, what it means to them and why they in fact exist. I can only believe that having a set answer for yourself that makes you happy (even if it seems limited) is the truth of what life is because it classifies how you live your life, what your perona is etc.. Does the unobserved exist? Nope. Well if you look at it from a subjective view point. Nothing exists outside me tiny little world and I am nice and happy hiding under my blankie /o\ and to quote Al John(l?)son replying to your second piece (also much enjoyed the reflection of moods through weather - i like those ones! Though April showers, may come your way, they bring the flowers, that bloom in May! So when its raining, Have no regrets, because you know it is'nt raining rain, you know its raining violets! And when you see clouds, Upon the hill, You'll soon be seeing crowds... of daffodils! So when its raining, have no regrets, because you know it isn't raining rain, you know its raining violets. Its been 16 years since I learned that song, and I'm sure I have forgotten more than 70% of it!!! Hope you enjoyed ~ good to see you still posting hun *hugs* Parm.

Always enjoy reading what you write Mira. No harm in having a tangent - perhaps that was the destiny of the poem? I believe in such things immagrant and spit dont rhyme unlike the parings in the other verses - but otherwise I fell it should remain untouched... Well done, Parmenion.

Appy - you're a little gem hun (out of ptraci mask). If you disappear from IRC for too long you are always sorely missed. And when you are on the rooms buzz with activity even if they've laid dormant for hours. You're a great people person and certainly brighten up my day when I catch you around even its just to exchange pleasantries and some smiley faces RB is a lucky lad which I'm sure he knows. Go n'éirí an t-adh leat! Parm.

A real touch of class Ayshela. SO REAL! Very well laid out and a pleasure to read.

Wonder what will happen when the kidlings come to my door sating "trick or treat" and I reply "trick"?? I'll have the little one armed with water balloons at the top window just in case http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif) Thanks for a well timed poem Canid. Good work.

When Parmenion received the scroll of invitation he was pleasantly surprised. It seemed as if nobles and illustrious members of all walks from the land had been invited, from high-born elves to ancient dragons and some of the more mystical beings aswell. Having met with Ayshela on only a few previous breif encounters at more courtly functions he was greatly "chuffed" to receive such a prestigious invite. He laid out his finest robes and shined his scabbard and oiled his sword for most of the morning. He still felt he would be under-dressed as his wardrobe did not amount to much. He was usually far too busy off on one campaign or another to worry too much about the latest fashions but he had a sense of style even with simple garments. He decided on his silken white tunic. It was loose and would not get too uncomrtably warm as the evening progressed even if he decided to dance a while. He also decide on some loose black pantaloons tucking them into his high black polished boots. Standing in front of the mirror he was quite bemused. He really looked the part of a swashbuckling adventurer. Taking up his sword and scabbard he thought better to himself. It may look good and its comfort was great but not this night. Instead he chose a small talisman on a frayed piece of string and put it around his neck inside of his shirt. Looking in the mirror again he decided to undo the top two buttons of the shirt and gave himself a wry smile. He arrived at the ball when it already appeared to be getting going. He spotted several people inside which he knew to speak with but chose instead to seek out Ayshela and give her the gift he had brought along. It was a simple ointment that he had picked up several weeks previously from a shaman friend. The ointment when rubbed into the skin made the skin darker and seem more tanned. He had never really been good at picking gifts but thought she might enjoy this or at least find a use for it. As he looked around for Ayshela he spotted a ruckus in the middle of the hall. He watched feeling quite giddy as a pair of revelers crashed to the floor in front of the esteemed Peredhil. The elven one caught his eye as she hurriedly scrambled to her feet abashed. He made a mental note to wander past that one later on. Turning smartly on his heel as he dragged his eyes away from the elf he almost bowled over Ayshela. "Ha! Just the lass I was looking for. To think I was laughing to myself at that pair yonder and I nearly went and done the same thing myself!" he laughed. "Thank you for your invitation my dear. It had nearly gone astray as I was busy abroad...ah but I have forgotten my manners..." He leaned forward catching Ayshela's elbows with his hands and gently kissed to the side of each cheek. "I have brought a gift that I though might interest you". He explained briefly the properties of the ointment knowing there must be many guests seeking her out. "You will of course save me one dance tonight won't you?" he winks with a mischevious grin.

One would think they'd would get it right fifth time round hun. Apparently some people are too stupid to learn from their mistakes. Not to worry, it ain't the rest of your life. Take comfort that they'll be a very small part of your life years from now

I want to go out clubbing after reading that!!

I think that very unlikely as in these situations there are thousands of miles in between people and while humans are made up of atoms and electrons, so is everything else. May I propose another theory? Very unlikely? Not as much as you think when you throw the CHAOS theory into the mix hehe. Everything is of course made up of atoms which one may believe would distort possible outflow to the brains of others. However, one could also argue that such an outflow could conceivably pass through all atoms everywhere being passed on without end but...the only people actually getting any "readings" from this are those who would be in tune with what is being sent. Either conciously or subconciously. I don't think either theory is "more" unlikely - more that they all have merit and its fun hammering them out and sharing with friends. Peredhil - Were you a witch-hunter in a previous life kekeke?