The Writing Thread

Musicman408 · #1 09-05-2010, 07:25 PM

Dani, two pieces in a day? That's AWESOME!!! I'll read them tomorrow morning since I've been working on school work ALLL day today.

I'd posted this earlier, but thought I'd repost to get some feedback!

The Regathering
Verse:
She speaks some slower,
so no one hears what she's thinking.
To playfully ride in the back,
of somebody's fulsome gray stagecoach.
The bar's been set above the Lancaster ceiling.
Yet she could only imagine where to begin.

He stares behind the stark white sand of September.
Pretending on why, for years it's been alone.
The handsome skies, are bleeding such crimson right now,
As he hands it all on the plaster wall.

Chorus:
The same old story's the show now.
With the same talented players, with the same parts.
Some stately man sits upon the window.
As he watches the glass reform after the fall.
Everyone else runs together, joining hands, laughing.
Two unmet lovers decide upon the regathering.

Her thoughts grow slower as she steps onto the stage.
She sets the pages down, the yellowing with age.
He's nearly on the other side of the Rudy long mile.
Sitting back at home- he begins to write awhile.

Chorus

The story transpires- like it's never been done before.
Mr. Rudy falls down, but then he meets Eleanor.
They run into each other like some pre planned meeting.
Then they hold hands atop the Lancaster ceiling.

So, what do we think??????

daniellaaarisen · #2 09-05-2010, 08:33 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Musicman408

Dani, two pieces in a day? That's AWESOME!!!

Haha, sorry to burst your bubble but nope-- I just forgot about this thread until now.

ButterCookie · #3 10-18-2010, 11:22 AM

First pop at a sonnet.

So as I stop to tie my shoe,
The rain does fall upon my back.
I look up to the swing which I outgrew,
and then glance to mine own name carved upon a weathered plaque.
The wind whips my florals about my knees,
The tired old swing creaks and groans.
Whilst Mr. Wind whistles to a gentle breeze,
Yet still he rattles through my aching bones.
As I press on, my skin cracks,
My lips blister.
and I think of my kingdom and that which it lacks,
My mind wrought in a deep, gray twister.
I wish for a bed under the stars, on which Mr. Wind can steal my woes,
calmness upon me, he bestows.

daniellaaarisen · #5 10-18-2010, 02:06 PM

A Nautical Room

Your sweet breath swells
into mine, fills a sail
softly undulating as if
the winds of the world
waned away. So you

blow heavy on my back
when the sound of your
discomfort fills the room;
you slip into
my sheets and watch
them billow above us,
giving half-satisfying
direction towards a
horizon lost. So we

sail on, buck up,
tie our shoes and wait
while sea water slaps
against the hardwood floor
and the breathless coastal fog
hovers above our bed. So we

wait for the instant when
I can make you better, wait
for when ecstasy isn’t
a curse, wait for
the moment when you can
finally love me, wait
for the day
I raise mast by myself.

GODDESS6 · #6 10-18-2010, 02:13 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

A Nautical Room

Your sweet breath swells
into mine, fills a sail
softly undulating as if
the winds of the world
waned away. So you

blow heavy on my back
when the sound of your
discomfort fills the room;
you slip into
my sheets and watch
them billow above us,
giving half-satisfying
direction towards a
horizon lost. So we

sail on, buck up,
tie our shoes and wait
while sea water slaps
against the hardwood floor
and the breathless coastal fog
hovers above our bed. So we

wait for the instant when
I can make you better, wait
for when ecstasy isn’t
a curse, wait for
the moment when you can
finally love me, wait
for the day
I raise mast by myself.

that is beautiful~

daniellaaarisen · #7 10-18-2010, 02:19 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by GODDESS6

that is beautiful~

Thank you!

daniellaaarisen · #8 10-18-2010, 02:14 PM

Glass Messiah

I have a crown of thorns twisted in my side, its
bleeding and festering
and somehow healing me from
the inside out, wrapping
its arms around each
muscle and vein, stretching
and squeezing until
I stop. I stop
fighting back, stop asking you to
make me holy again, stop
begging you to give
me a reason to pull
this tiara out of me, wash
it with some holy water and
wear it on my head
like the messiah
I was meant to be.
I stop bathing my own
feet, kissing my own
footsteps, weeping
in my own untimely death and all
because I’m not as satisfied
as Jesus was to be
naked and forsaken.
I can’t pretend to love myself
well enough for you
to love me, too. So please
leave me on a dirt road,
make sure I’m shoeless.
Break both my legs
and say, “walk.” Break me
beyond recognition,
enjoy the clamor of
the shatter. F*ck me up
so badly that I have no
choice but to start
from the ground up.
Douse me in self-loathing,
wrap me in the ugly truths,
believe that I shouldn’t
be believed in.
Because I’ll never make myself
into anything until
I’m absolutely nothing
to you.

chelluversu · #9 10-23-2010, 11:09 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

Glass Messiah

I have a crown of thorns twisted in my side, its
bleeding and festering
and somehow healing me from
the inside out, wrapping
its arms around each
muscle and vein, stretching
and squeezing until
I stop. I stop
fighting back, stop asking you to
make me holy again, stop
begging you to give
me a reason to pull
this tiara out of me, wash
it with some holy water and
wear it on my head
like the messiah
I was meant to be.
I stop bathing my own
feet, kissing my own
footsteps, weeping
in my own untimely death and all
because I’m not as satisfied
as Jesus was to be
naked and forsaken.
I can’t pretend to love myself
well enough for you
to love me, too. So please
leave me on a dirt road,
make sure I’m shoeless.
Break both my legs
and say, “walk.” Break me
beyond recognition,
enjoy the clamor of
the shatter. F*ck me up
so badly that I have no
choice but to start
from the ground up.
Douse me in self-loathing,
wrap me in the ugly truths,
believe that I shouldn’t
be believed in.
Because I’ll never make myself
into anything until
I’m absolutely nothing
to you.

My God woman. I love this.

daniellaaarisen · #10 10-18-2010, 02:22 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by ButterCookie

First pop at a sonnet.

So as I stop to tie my shoe,
The rain does fall upon my back.
I look up to the swing which I outgrew,
and then glance to mine own name carved upon a weathered plaque.
The wind whips my florals about my knees,
The tired old swing creaks and groans.
Whilst Mr. Wind whistles to a gentle breeze,
Yet still he rattles through my aching bones.
As I press on, my skin cracks,
My lips blister.
and I think of my kingdom and that which it lacks,
My mind wrought in a deep, gray twister.
I wish for a bed under the stars, on which Mr. Wind can steal my woes,
calmness upon me, he bestows.

Well it's not really in sonnet form BUT I really like it anyway. Haha.