cryptomancer

drive

Any amount of actual taste can attest,

That taste bud temptation is their domain.

Sinful names, and neon explains

The seven deadly sins taste best.

Combiningly intricate, flavour omnipotent,

Each recipe a true delight,

But nibble a bit on the hellish ribs,

And you will soon recognize my plite.

(OOC: Visit www.hell.co.nz and you shall understand.)

"Percolating on a tray of silver"

Rabbits fled into their holes; the man revved up his car,

Spitting up the desert dust, the gravel flew quite far,

Gunning the engine, gunning the bullets,

Grinding the gears, firing the pellets,

Bunnies laugh at the silly show,

Deep in their borrows, hidden below

"Shards of turmoil on the ground, scatter in the rain."

artillery

The prey among the wolves,

Dancing through fools,

Pirouetting through the glades of light,

Entrancing the waiting beasts.

Slipping softly from grasp to grasp,

Evading capture’s snare,

Gently flowing through the crowded room,

Attracting more than stares.

Like mist through curtains of vine,

She softly disappears,

The crowd calls to her departing shadow,

Appetites acutely aware.

"Kisses of frozen dew, beheld my lover's form"

tasty

sneeze

Fuse

The void draws me in, bleaching my soul,

Each sparkle of definable beauty spent

Making the radiant dark my whole.

Essence of forced mortality,

Binding the whims of flesh,

Each glimpse a startling reality,

Echoing secrets of nature's beast.

"Why was the smiley face yellow?"

termites

steak

As I lie lifeless on the floor

Bathed deep in the rainbow blood

Filtering my essence through the prism shard

Lost to the life that was.

Lungs breath air no more,

Color of life exhaled in full,

Clouds of un-resurrected love,

Dispelled, amidst my broken form.

Bodiless, broken and vanquished,

Floating free from restraints and mortal pain,

I’m lost without my lovers caress,

Without her, I am dust yet again.

Woken by the silence of day

owww!!!!!

cream

Baking bagels for your birthday,

Broiling beef and buffalo,

Burgers beautifully BBQ braised,

Beets and broccoli boiling below.

"subtle shift of languid light"

Caramel

Two ends meet and join

Easier said than to do,

Parted by fate’s chasm

No nearer to me than the moon.

Accepting fate’s offering,

The moonlight became my day,

Hour on hour, bleeding the dark

For the time that fades to gray.

Ends joined by the ether,

Clinging to dark in despair

Eternal kiss of blue white flame,

Woven in fate’s black hair.

Hands clasping through distance,

Breath of a whispered kiss blown,

Moonlit silver our hope together,

Two ends meet and join

"fluttering feathers fan the furnace"

Albatross

As the requiem sets in

Streets melted in fire,

Kiln flame caressing,

Ash to dust reborn.

In cold rest imprisoned,

Touch of the Divine given,

Life bound to live,

In the eternity of hope.

March was sounded, low and matching,

Truncated steps of 6 bearers tall,

Tears echoed, each drop shattering,

The silence of eternal rest,

Grant them O Lord.

"Swift on wheels of flame eroding"

*waves at sweet*

Very good question. *becons to the other guild leaders to answer as well.*

Maybe the guilds needs to clarify what they want to do as guild leaders? and what they want from the Pen?

I started writing here because it gave me a place to get feedback in a rather non threatening way. From there I progressed to joining in, for the sake of writing more. I tried new things and started to get better at what I already did (hopefully).

I wanted to join the guild for the chance to improve more, but the main reason I didnt was because they seemed to just be running games and events. There was the suggestion of more to come, or things to help, but these things either never happened, or I just never saw them when they did.

I was offered the chance to become a guild leader. I oringinally said yes for 2 reasons. I wanted to give back something to the Pen, after all that it has given to me since I joined, and secondly I have 'Ideas'.

The Guild should be true to its name. Guilds are a gathering of those that want to excel in their chosen path, a place where talent and skill are groomed to become better. I would like to see this happen again.

But does the pen want the guilds? That debate and the large and very vocal anti guild sentiment have made me hold back from even learning to run the AAA as it is.

But here is the short answer: I want to be in a guild to improve. If that means learning stuff elswhere and practising, by teaching others, at the pen through the position as guild leader, I will happily do so, it will just take time.

The guilds can help organise events, but the members should be doing this, coordinated by the leaders. Because events are a way to practise the things you wish to improve on.

Suggestions?

Right.....

First, Have a go at what Psimon Suggested.

I love the structure of couplets and quatraines, easy to write things and to get into a rhythm, allowing thoughts to flow. However from the point of view of the title, and the content, free form may work better.

Should you choose to stay with the structure that you have now, the thing that I find helps me a lot, espesially in wording and reworking each stanza of my own poetry, is syllable counts.

Try to word the lines in each stanza with an equal number of syllables, this will generally improve the flow and feel of the poem, from a structure point of view, the challenge is to get the same meaning across after altering the wording.

The others, (Rev and Sweet) both made some fantastic suggestions, so keep going, and I look forward to reading more of your works in the future.

Ps: The flow in 'this' post is much better.

OMG!!! I'm about a third of the way through reading the insanely funny A Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson for an upcoming class, and I just learned that Bunnies really are evil.

 

 

rev...

I know Aussies that hunt rabbits with explosives, mostly dynamite and hand grenades.

but read up on the mouse plagues that Australia has, the pictures are wondefully amusing.

In the middle of the table, the raven sat, looking rather confused. Someplace in the depths of the avian mind, he had an idea that there was more to it than just missing the ground.

He sat and watched the attempts, the slow clearing of the booth, and the cheerfeline’s sudden departure.

In fact, most of the next few nights the raven sat huddled in the booth, confused and cold, and still trying to figure out if this was quite the right method. The knock on the head had rattled too much sense out to allow complete memories, so the raven just sat, and contemplated the true depth of what needed to be done.

After just under a week, the raven wondered cautiously to the edge of the table, glanced at the ground.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, and toppled forward, plummeting to the ground…..

Within the split second of freefall, the raven’s instinct took over and opened the wings, eyes snapping open in time to see the ground rushing towards him, the instinct failed and the wings snapped in and covered the eyes of the falling bird. The pinion feathers of the wings sharply poked the raven’s eyes before he could close them again, the squawk of pain distracting him at a crucial time, and as he tumbled in his confused and eyewatering fall, the raven failed to notice the ground, and missed.

The raven bobed and inch above the ground, wings folded, eyes watering and blinking to clear them.

He hovered confused……

And pondering the dilemma of insanity vs instinct, floated slowly back to the keep, weaving through the feet of the pennites that wondered the halls.

Love the signature pic too, man it is fantastic, where you take that?