Mardrax

"Gnomes?"

A fluttering of robes follows the question.

Mardrax, his hair tightly bound back into a braid which hangs down over one shoulder, staggers into the garden. His eyes darkly rimmed, shooting this way and that, as if looking for something. Looking far ahead of him, into the smallest spaces. Under that brush over there. Way up in the top of that tree. In between Flamingo Mack's toes. But never at his own feet.

He trips, falls, hits his head into stuff.

Standing up, he makes three feeble swipes at his robes to remove the grass on them, then looks forward and repeats the question.

"Gnomes? I know gnomes. Wait..."

One hand disappears into the pocket it was swiping at.

After a few moments of rummaging, it emerges, holding a book.

A depiction of a forest gnome - front and back view - fills the entire cover, together with some small scribling saying "Forest gnome, 275 years of age. In the prime of life. True height (without up): 15 cm.", amongst other bits of trivia about the gnome.

In large, swirling letters, the word "Gnomes" lines the top of the page. "by Rien Poortvliet."

He puts it down on the thingies and staggers away again, mumbling something like: "...everything you've always wanted to know. And more."

Non-fuzzy? From where I stand, sunlight can very well be fuzzy.

Think that "heavily clouded sunday morning sun shining through light curtains" feeling. You may find different words to describe that, I will use this one.

That said, my use and interpretation of the word here differs a whole lot from the way Appy used it in Fuzzy. I'm just painting a bit of environment with it, she's describing an entire situation, the entire memory of a considerable timespan, with that one word. I quite agree with that descriptor as well Never did it become a synonym for good though, as far as I know.

That bit of explanation aside, I do apologise for delving into subjects which are a tad difficult, if not impossible to understand for "outsiders" with both our works. Then again, I do still think poetry in essence is meant for the reader to think about his own interpretation of what's written, not wonder about what the writer meant. As long as something makes sense to me, it's all valid as far as I'm concerned.

I'm deeply sorry if, through writing things both she and I understand, I (or we) make anyone else feel alienated, but I see no reason to treat these works as any different than any other poetry.

Let it mean to you what you feel it means

Het papier is leeg

Waarom?
In m'n moedertaal komen m'n woorden niet als water
In m'n moedertaal mengen m'n woorden niet als eieren
In m'n moedertaal verblinden m'n woorden als meel
In m'n moedertaal kneed ik m'n woorden niet als deeg

Het papier is leeg
en
het papier blijft leeg

M'n moedertaal rot weg,
verzamelt stof in een hoek.

___________________

A rant on my frustration with being unable to write anything decent in Dutch. And here's for a rough translation:

The paper is empty

Why?
In my mother tongue words don't come like water
In my mother tongue my words don't mix like eggs
In my mother tongue my words blind like flour
In my mother tongue I don't knead words like dough

The paper is empty
and
he paper stays empty

My mother tongue rots away,
gathers dust in a corner.

*points right back at Thingy and embraces them together to create Stuff with an equal smile*

There is; just live it. No fear, just love, and grandma Death on the sideline

Teachers and students might no longer apply
when you hold the mirror allow me to scry
blurring the lines that faintly divide
the ever-present bound'ry 'tween you and I
and our other sides

-

While I'd pledge this smile to wake you up every time
the sun's fuzzy rays light up the sky
While I'd hold you nigh every time you would cry
gently caress the last tear from your eye

-

That would all go awry
so I will just lie
just let your thigh
for now support mine

until we will awaken
let this never die

Bad spirits

rising

through good spirits

sinking down the throat

as the anger rises

ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall

ninety-nine bottles of beer

and if one of them

would happen to fall

a look

a slur

a swear

and a brawl

Good spirits

drowned

by good spirits

rising to the surface

as the spirits sink

ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall

ninety-eight bottles of beer

and if one of them

would happen to fall

a look

a shrug

a laugh

would be all

updated link to that song, especially for all the non-Dutchies out there, but for all the Dutchies too of course

it's evil realplayer stuff though.

http://cgi.omroep.nl/cgi-bin/streams?/vara...kvk002_video.rm

tuck your head in here

only there to reappear

Reaper

harvest yielding

but a single straw to clutch

yet clutch in vain we all shall

clinging to our mortal shells

Sower

paranoia

distrust and dismay

which of them did fail their jobs?

would it all just be the crops?

Farmer

fail to tend

and you will rend

all our actions futile

_____________

edit: Question marks. Feels empty without, yet still far too full.

I welcome the Dark Passenger

All aboard my light train

For she might be the messenger

through which all stand to gain

Dark harrier, my harrier

may you be the carrier

to carry our confusion

beyond all our pain

My last stop is before that

but you're a runner by name

without me, you can last

Pass the torch

keep up your game

___________________

All behind a veil of glass

I wouldn't have quoted it if it wouldn't have made sense to begin with

Everything alien in there is because it's a whole lot of incrowd talk, and the last two lines only seem bland because you don't know the song they were translated from

http://www.liedjesland.com/Liedjes/kvk/op_...oond_eiland.htm

*jiggies*

I won't be revising it as it really is as perfect as I can get it. I might well be taking the first stanza and expand that independantly though.

Scent marks;

Tracing pheromones

years back

Electric goosebumped spines

Seen before

passing memories

Intoxicating through

a feline Jugend craze

Nucking futs

and daring socks

On a deserted island

All days are good

_______________

Might very well toss this one a revision some time I'm actually sober and awake.

Otherwise, live with the seeming incoherentness

Thanks

And don't ever let my outward rigidness hold you back. Though I might very rarely actually agree with your ideas, they always succeed at setting my mind working on the right tracks. I haven't specifically asked you to take a look at my stuff several times because I don't like your comments

Punctuation wouldn't work very well in this case I think, as they aren't actually necessary to get either the message or the image across, and adding it would just add more than is needed, which I stayed far from with this one.

Minimalism ftw

alright then, revision:

know eachother

as little as we

know eachother

fear eachother

show eachother

hear eachother

won't ever

revere eachother

slow eachother

endear eachother

know eachother

near eachother

there will never

be another

quite like us

for me

And you're complaining about supposed non-appropriateness of some of Wyvern's friend's establishments?

Hope you had a good one, and a happy birthday in advance for what must be 363 days from now

How you manage to hit the notes I agree upon

The throw, I have no idea how it got there. Looking at it, I would say I was out of rhyming options. Might be, though it wasn't a conscious decision then, as this thing hit me entirely in the shower yesetday morning. My best bet is it's probably a derivative of "throw away", but I don't like it much myself. Will see if something more interesting hits me.

The "quite like us/for me" is the only thing added on a more conscious note, as an afterthought. A final thought too. Something like a "having your head up in the clouds isn't too bad, as long you keep your feet on the ground". 'Sides that, I won't be as bold as to speak for others here.

Thanks It's equally good to get your comments. (and that does mean the lot of you )

know eachother

as little as we

know eachother

fear eachother

show eachother

hear eachother

won't ever

revere eachother

throw eachother

endear eachother

slow eachother

near eachother

there will never

be another

quite like us

for me

___________

Says enough, I'd think.

How long shower-springings can linger 0_o

An email messiah and an internet god

They're after our money, more often than not

International stocks, and unlimited wealth

Pills everyone needs to keep up their health

or enlarged private parts

Oh no, they're not done yet

That's just where it starts

When we don't remember poor Richard or Kate

Our saviour will help us, no minute too late

(S)he'll probably even ask you out on a date

But before you jump in and try to relate

I implore you, find out what meat's on your plate

For all too many times, we think we're dealing with ham

When all it really is, is just trash from a can

_______________________

Again, stuff from the shower, albeit cliche 0_o

"Ignorance flaring in blue, green and red"

Picking up on that unused line of mine I said I'd leave for any takers to take up, as it was haunting my head while in the shower just now.

Waves of anguish, drugged relief

"Don't leave now", I told the thief

Take my sorrow, hide my grief

Shedding memories as tree sheds leaf.

As oaken giants eventually bald,

is how I would prefer grow old

Leave my stories yet untold

Watch how my new life unfolds.

As for messiahs and gods, my current mindset doesn't quite reach that, so anyone who does: take it

Leaving my other last line for anyone who would take it up as a secondary

-------------

A line of grey, a line of storms

Mackerel clouds in countless forms

Float across the sky this night

While flashes set the sky alight

Column of smoke, column of fire

Burning now to raise my ire

I won't fulfill my desire

Escape this mental quagmire

Won't flee now into sleep

The flickering will keep

reflecting in my eyes

As line and column rise

To meet

---------------

Candles wound around their wicks

I haven't started on it yet, though I've been promising myself I would for quite some time now. Doesn't look like I will to after New Year's though. Will be tied up in partying until the 2nd.

In the meantime though, feel free to PM me anything you might want to, because I really haven't decided yet on which character I would base it on. I seem to like biting off more than I can seem to chew though

Also, Tani, I think I'd need to give you just about the same as Katz gave me If you want a more detailed description about the character I'm using than the few rather hazy bits he's let go about himself up to now, I'd be happy to PM you what thoughts I have.

topic title: ( -> You must enter a topic title longer than 2 characters

*shrugs*

Uniform filler material. Might have used empty characters instead.

About my using writing symbols as titles (~ in the WW, for example). I do that all the time.

For one because mostly I can't be bothered to come up with a title for the things I write, and if they don't come up during the process of writing, I don't make one up by force.

Second the power of both suggestion and imagination that stem from using such a symbol can be much greater than a word.

Third, which really is the case here, it indicates the meaning of the poem is too important for me to be distracted by a title.

edit:

The ecstatic cloud of doubt:

Ecstatic, a state of ecstasy.

Ecstasy:

1 a : a state of being beyond reason and self-control b archaic : SWOON

2 : a state of overwhelming emotion; especially : rapturous delight

Emotion, overwhelming or not, need not be joyous by any means. Look beyond the usual.

*sigh*

(

offend

lament

my actions rend

disappointment

bitter ointment

ancient wounds

do not single

let thoughts mingle

let them be

apologetic

automatic?

near ecstatic

cloud of doubt

offend

lament

my actions end

)

Taking the pipes from the gnome with a grunt, Guerrero barely pays attention to what the rest of the blatter was about. He certainly wasn't in a mood to care the moment he stepped up to the platform. Moments later, with the reeds in his hand and his stage character subsiding, he still couldn't be moved to care.

The moment he sees the water he takes a few steps back to lean against the trea he'd climbed.

Hell no, I'm not getting wet.

He'd never touched water that was more than foot deep in his life and he intends to keep it that way.

Instead, with a dismissive gesture towards Nabeshin, he sits down against the tree and tentatively blows into the pipes a few times to find out their tuning.