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[Parsely]

An Anapestic poem:

Give me torch and crowbar. Off to scorching sands far!
We shall seek such treasure of no equal measure.
Ours is that ancient gold, and all what we can hold.
"To the desert?", I say. Who "I" says, will find pay!

I like it. Adventure is fun.

[Tomasque]

 Thanks!

[Tomasque]

Question poem:

It's shown to those worthy in the line.
Tell me, have you seen the Yellow Sign?
I myself was shown it when I read
the manuscript which its secret said.
In "The King in Yellow" it is found,
and I'll be that King once I am crowned.
But first, there are others whom I fear
are worthier than me from their years.
I shall find them to make them decry
their succession or  to make them die.
So I do ask you now one more time:
Tell me, have you seen the Yellow Sign?

[TD1]

I've neglected this thread. My apologies.

I'll go now to see God
With you dear, for I must
But here, now, you alone
Are deity of life.

And I spit into death,
I cry love into night
To lend tears to all hope,
Give our blindness new sight!

You cry, sweet as thorns fall
And our love resides deep
I had wished to give all,
And now...we....as one...sleep.
----
Wow, that was weird. I'm so used to Iambs that I really had to make myself think. Definitely glad I made a stab at it, no matter how iambic it seems in places

An Anapestic poem:

Give me torch and crowbar. Off to scorching sands far!
We shall seek such treasure of no equal measure.
Ours is that ancient gold, and all what we can hold.
"To the desert?", I say. Who "I" says, will find pay!

This was well done, though. I can definitely see its anapestic nature, without it being a burden to the actual poem.

Question poem:

Did he who made the lamb make thee?
What hand dare frame.
Who art thee?

You burn tenacious, life is your coat.
Where came that fire?
Who spoke?

What words trembled the darkness
And formed a man?
What is life?

Who first sharpened a stone, a knife
And did he do murder.
Why give death?

Who are you, strummer of lives
Why do you ignore me?
Do you exist?

Please, give me an answer.


----

I'm interested, Tomasque. Most of your poems have a certain style to them that reminds me of that Jester poem. Is that that poet's influence, or did you like the poem/poet because his style appealed to yours?

For tomorrow: Adventure!

[Tomasque]

I'm interested, Tomasque. Most of your poems have a certain style to them that reminds me of that Jester poem. Is that that poet's influence, or did you like the poem/poet because his style appealed to yours?

You're referring to the Fool's Prayer, right?  It's the latter. I like it because it appeals to my love of Jesters, and  it has a consistent rhyming scheme and tempo, which I value above all else. Hell - I don't think I've made a poem without it!

 However, recently, I've had another inspiration from a favorite poem of mine - the poem you introduced to me: "The Listeners." I love the idea of a mysterious "Traveller," unnamed but with some deep purpose, travelling far to complete some quest known only to himself. I've even made a few poems about it - complete with my consistent rhyme and rhythm, of course.

 BTW, I'm still waiting an action for Storm. I can't wait to see what you'll do next - for reasons yet to be revealed.

[Tomasque]

Welcome, travelers, to my home.
You'll die within these walls of stone.
A misstep here will seal your doom
and yours shall be this Horror's Tomb.

You've entered through the proper way,
yet danger still before you lay.
Deadly pits run down the hall,
and a demon who hungers all.

You'll find a me that isn't me
and gargoyle with arms just three.
A fallen corpse and crimson stains.
"Look to the fourth to find your gain."

If you are brave and wise and fast,
you'll reach my secret tomb, at last,
but take the gold and leave me then,
else not return to world of men.


 If I wasn't tired, maybe I'd actually look at the module and make a more in-depth poem, but bed awaits me, so you're stuck with this. 

[birdy51]

Life is made of expectations defied,
Until our final fate is realized.
We seek one truth, then experience another.
In far-off lands, we find ourselves a brother.

We as kindred souls who walk this path so bleak,
Never quite with full knowledge of which we seek,
Are but found and bound in self-same surprise,
When fickle fate doth say, 'Try this on for size.'

We find our lives do not go the way we planned.
We find our dreams are but palaces of sand.
But of ill days from that which we run in fear,
There be our greatest memories we hold dear.

So! An ode to adventure, both planned, and not.
And the lonesome road with many dangers fraught.
Gladsome travelers along that winding way,
Treasure when expectation is held at bay.

[Tomasque]

May I suggest a new prompt?

 Masquerade

That should be fun. I'll make a new poem once I have the time.

[birdy51]

Agreed! I'll give-er a day as per usual, then I'll give it a shot.

[TD1]

Feel free to post whenever and however often is wished. It's at least one per day.

Hrm. Or. You know. Is meant to be

Also, Masquerade is certainly interesting. I think I'll do one for that as well. First though, adventure:

We three by three are seeking thee
Or more particularly,
We wish to find what we will mind;
The jewelled laughter laugh of thee.

Once heard upon a breeze, the trees
Carried it to us. If we receive without a fuss
We'll leave, we three by three,
Your laughter as our albatross.

We've waited long without a song
The earth's grim turn abiding -
But we have heard it from the trees
That in your soul, one is still smiling.

We've come to claim your laugh, you see
It is most precious thing to we.
Give it to us, without a fuss;
Too long we have been we, yet still melancholy.

I'll edit in Masquerade later tonight.

Monarch and ape, butterfly damsel
We're lost within the shade,
The hue, the brilliant bloom.
Is that my love, my father, my foe?

Is that the exit, or just another room
Echoing to the beat, the heart string tempo
The thud-thud capering of meat
Resounding to the foot falls of the damned.

I put this mask on, white with pain
To hide my past, my previous shame.
Now I can see the colour, the honour killing
Dance of green on blue on purple wings.

The music rises, pitch increases, fiddle sings
Hair flings in rising arcs, and do I see a grin
Stuck in its place, as with a pin?
Flash of sabered eye, a tear I'd like to cry
The room is spinning, spinning with brilliance
With its own transcendence proliferating its essence,
Out of control it swirls and mixes, seething as a cauldron
Steeping itself in darkness that shines so bright.

Who hides behind the mask that holds my arm!
All damned we are, all damned who hide our faces
From the shame we should know! Crying, I tear away the swirl
And bustle, the bubble-glow like oil. I throw it on the floor,
Cold face bared, empty eyes staring up. All watch, and don't.
All see this one who stands revealed, yet stare, so bitter-cold
From out the darkened caves of eyes. None stop the dance.
It was a futile chance. A lone human amongst the vicious flowers,
I drown in monarch, ape and butterfly damsel.

For tomorrow: two strangers help each other on the road.

[Urist Mc Dwarf]

A mountain stands
Forbidding and grin
Two climb high on it
Their breath growing thin
One surges, forward, turns
Offers their hand
The other reaches for it
Oh, isn't it grand?
When two who are
Nothing to one another
Suddenly start acting
Like they are brothers

For tomorrow: Chess

[Tomasque]

Dwarfy: I don't understand your Adventure poem. What dies it mean?
 Also, how should I read the Masquerade poem?

[TD1]

The Adventure one is essentially three by three seeking the smile of thee. People seeking happiness, in other words, but incapable of finding it in the traditional sense, so they attempt to "take" it. The Masquerade one was basically trying to give the event a feel of claustrophobia and sinister intent. People hiding from themselves.

I should mention that I'll probably not be posting in this for a while. I've got essays to do, texts to read, and exams to prepare for. I'll return to it after the 13th, no worries.

This also applies to Storm, if you don't mind, Tomasque? I'll continue doing it of course, if you want to continue.

In regards to this thread, feel free to continue without me for a bit.

[Tomasque]

This also applies to Storm, if you don't mind, Tomasque? I'll continue doing it of course, if you want to continue.

I'm alright if you take a few weeks off from the game. It'll give me more time to concentrate on some stuff I've been wanting to do, which should wrap up by the time you get back.

[Tomasque]

Chess

The old king points his weary hand
ahead into the no man's land
He tells him, "You must make a stand."

The child stares in disbelief,
like at a vagrant or a thief,
if he died would he have no grief?

But he's a pawn, and must obey.
He steps forward to join the fray,
and hopes that he won't die today.

Before him lands a tower black,
but he's not in it's deadly track
- and it's in his path of attack!

The pawn took out the rook this game
or, said differently - still the same -
the childe to the dark tower came.


Here's the next prompt: A poem based off of a story