poetry and stuff

[flygirl2000]

Well done!

[texasgal]

Very good, Lom. No, poetry doesn't have to rhyme, and it doesn't have to rhyme to be good. It's just easier to remember poems that rhyme, that's all.

[Lom83]

Thanks Its too restrictive having to fine rhymes I think, I remember at school when we had to write and I had lots of thoughts but I'd always be told it had to rhyme and that made it alot harder to think of something that I thought sounded good - bah school! that was when I was quite young though lol

[texasgal]

I read a short story by Arthur Gordon where, as a young man, he had met Rudyard Kipling! They talked about poetry and rhyming, etc.

8-)I've lost the book that contains that story. I must have taken it to the used book store to sell. That had to have been a mistake! I loved that book and have missed it so much that I've re-ordered it from Amazon.

[Lom83]

aw, oh well at least you managed to find it for sale! I remember reading the just so stories when I was younger... think my mums got a copy...

[texasgal]

I read a couple of Rudyard Kipling books when I was in high school. I liked them very much. The book I was referring to above is a collection of short stories all written by Arthur Gordon, an American author.

[Lom83]

Oh well I was just being random lol

[texasgal]

No problem. I get random too.... ;D

[Lom83]

lol not as random as me I bet though!

Oh and if anyone is interested, I found my old poetry webpage. The info. is kind of out of date, I haven't updated it in ages but it has practically all my poems I wrote as a teen, mostly talking about made up stuff or how I felt as a bit of a lonely teen and stuff like that, if anyones interested you can read them all here:-

www.angelfire.com/pop2/blacknblue/Isla.html

people used to say that they thought the second poem called 'Man Of The Night' was my best one... which, if you don't want to scroll through the site for it, goes:-

The Man Of The Night by Isla Scott

As I stare at the waters edge,

the waves gently distorting my reflection,

I sigh and close my eyes,

taking a deep breath to let the tranquility flow into me.

As I slowly re - open my eyes,

I see to my surprise,

alongside my reflection are another pair of eyes.

He sits down next to me,

surveying the landscape as if to say

"I'll make sure we're not watched"

We sit together watching the sun set,

and the lingering breeze I let

play about with my hair,

as if it was human.

He puts his arm around me,

and I turn to see,

A single tear drop from my eye

into the water below.

My eyes lock on to his,

and it is plain to see

this night was meant to be.

"Your...crying?" he asks concerned and I nod my head,

"I'm crying tears of happiness" I said

quietly. He nods in agreement

and understanding.

I stare down at my reflection once more,

and he gently kissess the side of my face.

With this, my heart starts to race,

and a smile of wonder spreads on my face.

A million questions start to race

all around me. But before I could say a thing,

be put his finger over my mouth

"Quietness is the magic of the night,

stay here quiet and I'll hold you tight"

he said so quietly it was as if the breeze had said it.

Whether it was trust,

or perhaps lust,

I do not know,

but as soon as I felt his strong re - assuring hold,

It was as if I'd been sold

to his command.

It started to get late and clouds covered the sky,

like curtains for the night.

The next thing I know,

I regret to say,

Is that I wake up the next day,

to this day I've never seen him again,

but something of his I can feel is always around me.

Permanently settled in my soul,

like the night I saw him.

[texasgal]

Oh yes, as random as you! You don't know how many times I've written something to post, then deleted it because it was way too random... It doesn't take anything at all to get me yakking... and I wander off in more directions than exist.
;D

Beautiful poem... it looks like it reflects the likes of your fellow countrymen Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, and Donovan Leitch...

[Lom83]

lol well im similar then
thanks, I wrote another long poem last night, this time all in one 'sitting'. It was therapeutic, I was writing about how I feel about myself at the moment, so I don't know if it will make a great deal of sense to other people but I don't mind sharing it, perhaps others have had similar worries/thoughts etc... this is it:-

Here I am,
older, wiser,
I sit, in the knowledge,
all the times that have passed me by,
every mistake made,
many friendships forged and lost,
truths found to be flawed,
sadness and happiness, both leading me
here, to where I be today,
yet where am I now?
I cannot help but feel lost,
having realised my one true love
of music, the group that I felt were somehow 'there'
when I was younger, the 'job' I gave myself
as obsessive fan I discovered was truly killing me
but now, what am I left with?
My identity, a struggle, money I can use
for games, hardly played, movies, TV shows
all the escapism, still I feel
beneath me and within,
there's always that hollow,
will I ever fill it?
As a child, this story is true,
I made to myself a promise,
one to stay that way forevermore,
but its the child inside that really hurts,
the self conscious, shy person
that still seems to haunt within.
If I could just forge past, to have the trust
that I can go out and somehow become
the motivated, headstrong, assured
and somehow socially equipped adult
I feel I should deserve the right to be,
I hope I would then be whole indeed,
or is this how it is? do we all hide away
the longings to be someone else,
our faults all too obvious in our own eyes,
are we all secretly scared children inside?.
I don't ask for any sympathy, help even,
for this I've learnt,
through days and years gone by,
no matter whats suggested,
who points out the things I lack and how to acquire them,
without the real confidence and motivation
within myself,
these will never change.
I can only hope for the future,
I somehow manage to show myself
I can do more, be more,
forge a new identity,
start friendships that stick
and work towards goals, move out
and be able to proudly declare
hello world, this is who I am.

I haven't thought of a title for it yet...

[Lom83]

I just wrote a new poem tonight, kind of a spur of the moment kinda thing... this is it:-

Adventurous Author by Isla Scott

Sitting on the back of the truck
breathing in the exhaust fumes that smelt of freedom
she wondered to herself
about her journey ahead.
Looking back at where she had been,
alot was clear,
she had no interest in the real life,
instead she lived in her head, for the freedom and excitement
that came from being somewhere different each day,
living a life of freedom,
she might not have much to her name
but with a writing book and her trusty pen,
everything was faithfully documented,
all her stories, stories of fascination,
stories of African jungles, Indian palaces,
stories from the Wild West, Victorian London,
superheroes, damsels in distress
and everything and everyone inbetween,
her pen was her most powerful tool.
So through the towns and countryside she travelled,
as the truck moved on, watching her landscape pass her by,
the more she saw, the more inspired she felt
to start a new adventure.

[texasgal]

Lom, it looks like a really good start to a story. You should continue it - either as prose or as an epic poem.

[Lom83]

texasgal said:

Lom, it looks like a really good start to a story. You should continue it - either as prose or as an epic poem.

Thanks I like thinking about that sort of thing, like the basic premise but often don't know where to go with it... (well all over the world but you know what I mean )

[Lom83]

Okay I wrote a short poem tonight, though I don't know if it makes any sense lol... I kind of rushed it esp. the end, where I was suffering from writers block a bit, it kind of changes but I think it sort of works, in a sort of, sort of way lol! this is it:-

Look in my Eyes by Isla Scott

Look in my eyes,
deeper,
what do you see,
colour, shape,
meaning, feeling,
hope, faith, belief
or questions?
What is hidden,
beneath this exterior,
we all contain so much,
but how to know what exists
within the shell,
the potential and the heartache,
only you can change,
what lies within.