Punish Me . . . - Page 7 - EvBoard

SangReal · 07-29-2004, 03:43 PM

Much, much better. My eyes were bleeding. Periods and commas I can handle. I really do appreciate that you didn't get all pissed off or anything. I really respect you for that, and if I hadn't already repped you, I would do it again. Thanks too for your comments in my thread.

<3 Mary

Nameless · 07-29-2004, 06:46 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by axeslinger0u812

well, quite eventful in my absence.

I always thought you posted that way because you liked it, and while I always wondered why, I figured you had a reason.

either way, I always enjoyed your writing, and am really loving the most recent ones.

Yeah, I guess you could say that I liked it. Some of it was just my style, but there was a lot of un-needed stuff too. I was just too lazy when I first started posting here to really pay attention.

Most of my songs, and some of my poems, I typed to be centered on a page anyway. I feel kind of stupid now for not just looking up and realizing that the control was rite there. After I centered the ones that were supposed to be that way, I saw a lot of things that I should have cleaned up earlier. I hope it looks and reads better now.

I'm also glad that you liked "Obscurity." It took a long time to make that song, because we started with the music first and the rhythm is just crazy. I usually write lyrics first anyway. I'm hoping to get a server, and start posting some links to some music too.

Quote:

Originally Posted by SangReal

Much, much better. My eyes were bleeding. Periods and commas I can handle. I really do appreciate that you didn't get all pissed off or anything. I really respect you for that, and if I hadn't already repped you, I would do it again. Thanks too for your comments in my thread.

No way. I love to hear it when there's something wrong. It helps me to fix it if I can. And if you guys are honest with me like that, then your comments mean a lot more when they're good.

I use a lot of different styles of writing, and sometimes I get all jumbled and confused while I'm typing. I've been writing for so long now, that I find it interesting to test myself by experimenting with lots of different things. But sometimes I just get out of control.

And I was more than happy to comment on your work. I think it might have been Robert Browning that it reminded me of now. He's one of my favorites.

Thanks so much for your comments. It means a lot you guys.

Nameless · 07-30-2004, 09:13 AM

Perhaps another love poem. So everyone knows that I do feel happy sometimes. Including me.

Silk:
------------------------------------------------------------

Silken lips,
Caress my cheek.
Been lain upon your sofa;
Been lain upon, oblivion.

Hovering, above my face.
Moving slowly,
Brow to brow.
Gently, guiding me,
Back from the abyss.
Gently, loving me,
Kiss after, sweet kiss.

Silken, fingertips.
Swept across my shoulder blades.
Gazing up into your eyes.
Gazing up, into oblivion.

Hovering, across my chest.
Moving slowly;
Breast to breast.
Gently, guiding me,
Into the abyss.
Gently, loving me,
Kiss after, sweet kiss.

axeslinger0u812 · 07-30-2004, 03:04 PM

That was awesome. Very sweet, and the way you used repetitive lines and structure, but changed things just slightly enough to create an entirely new visual, is amazing. It's funny you mentioned that you write love songs when your happy, because I could be married to Lindsay Lohan, and I couldn't write a good love song. I can't write a love song that doesn't sound like a Backstreet boys song.

Nameless · 07-30-2004, 03:32 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by axeslinger0u812

That was awesome. Very sweet, and the way you used repetitive lines and structure, but changed things just slightly enough to create an entirely new visual, is amazing. It's funny you mentioned that you write love songs when your happy, because I could be married to Lindsay Lohan, and I couldn't write a good love song. I can't write a love song that doesn't sound like a Backstreet boys song.

LOL

Hey, you never know. I didn't know that I could write about love either. I think it took a little practice at first. Now it just comes naturally like everything else.

It doesn't happen very often though . . .

axeslinger0u812 · 07-30-2004, 05:32 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Shadow_666

It doesn't happen very often though . . .

I hear that!

Shivercide · 07-30-2004, 09:53 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Shadow_666

Perhaps another love poem. So everyone knows that I do feel happy sometimes. Including me.

Silk:
------------------------------------------------------------

Silken lips,
Caress my cheek.
Been lain upon your sofa;
Been lain upon, oblivion.

Hovering, above my face.
Moving slowly,
Brow to brow.
Gently, guiding me,
Back from the abyss.
Gently, loving me,
Kiss after, sweet kiss.

Silken, fingertips.
Swept across my shoulder blades.
Gazing up into your eyes.
Gazing up, into oblivion.

Hovering, across my chest.
Moving slowly;
Breast to breast.
Gently, guiding me,
Into the abyss.
Gently, loving me,
Kiss after, sweet kiss.

Wow...that was..

*stops to catch her breath*

Really, very romantic and sensual.

The repetition of some lines just adds to the effect. It makes it seem more..."rhythmatic".

Nameless · 07-31-2004, 04:44 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Shivercide

Wow...that was..

*stops to catch her breath*

Really, very romantic and sensual.

The repetition of some lines just adds to the effect. It makes it seem more..."rhythmatic".

HA! I finally got you to comment again! Now I'm making progress.

I figured if I used enough different styles, sooner or later, one of them would get more people to say something. And look what this one drug in!

I really liked reading your stuff, and it's really cool that you like this one.

And it's funny that you said it was, "rythmatic." Especially considering what inspired this poem. Since we're all adults, I'm sure you know what I mean.

I just wish it didn't hurt so much to write like this . . .
I'd do it more often.

Thanks so much for your comment. I'm really glad that you liked the poem.

Nameless · 07-31-2004, 07:08 AM

Ok - Just in case you guys haven't noticed yet, I like variety.

So this time I'm going to share somthing different with you. Don't get scared and run off when I tell you what it is. Give it a chance; you might actually enjoy it.

This is a traditional Irish song.

It's ok . . . It'll be ok . . . Stay calm . . .

You see, most of my family moved over to the states not too long before I was born. Throughout the years, we've been back a few times, but I never got to experience it like the rest of the family. Never the-less, it's always felt like home to me.

Music is about the most influential force in my life. I grew up around this kind of music, and it always makes me feel closer to my ancestors . . .

So I'm going to share one with you.

The Banks of the Ocean
------------------------------------------------------------

The Dutchman's, not the kind of man,
To keep his thumb, jammed in the dam,
That holds, his dreams in . . .

But that's a secret, only Margaret knows.

When Amsterdam is golden, in the morning,
Margaret brings him breakfast; she believes him . . .
He thinks the tulips, bloom, beneath the snow.

He's mad as he can be,
But Margaret, only sees that sometimes;
Sometimes, she sees, her unborn children,
In his eyes . . .

Chorus:
Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . .
Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee.
Long ago, I used to be a young man . . .
And dear Margaret, remembers that for me.
______

The Dutchman, still wears wooden shoes.
His cap and coat, are patched with love,
That Margaret sewed in . . .

Sometimes, he thinks, he's still in Rotterdam.

He watches tugboats, down canals, and calls out to them,
When he thinks, he knows, the captain . . .
'Till Margaret comes, to take him home again.

Through unforgiving streets,
That trip him, though she holds his arm;
Sometimes, he thinks that he's alone,
And calls her name . . .

Chorus:
Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . .
Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee.
Long ago, I used to be a young man . . .
And dear Margaret, remembers that for me.
______

The windmills, swirl the winter in,
As she winds his muffler tighter;
They sit in, the kitchen . . .

And the tea with whiskey, keeps away the dew.

He sees her for a moment, calls her name,
She makes his bed up; humming some, old love song . . .
She learned it when the tune, was very new.

She hums, a line or two;
They hum together, in the night . . .
The Dutchman falls asleep, and Margaret blows,
The candle out . . .

Chorus:
Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . .
Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee.
Long ago, I used to be a young man . . .
And dear Margaret, remembers that for me.
______
X2

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

God only knows who wrote this next song. I didn't. It's hundreds of years old and it's changed with time. But not much. It's really beautifull. That's why I wanted to post it here. If anyone wants to listen to it, let me know. And don't freak out, there's a translation at the bottom.

Ar Eirinn Ni Neosainn Ce Hi
------------------------------------------------------------

Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin
Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím,
Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair
D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn.

Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló,
Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn,
Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair,
Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

Dá ngéilleadh an spéir-bhean dom' ghlór,
Siad ráidhte mo bheól a bheadh fíor;
Go deimhin duit go ndéanfainn a gnó
Do léirchur i gcóir is i gcrich.

Dó léighfinn go léir stair dom' stór,
'S ba mhéinn liom í thógaint dom chroí,
'S do bhearfainn an chraobh dhi ina dóid,
Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

Tá spéir-bhruinneal mhaordha dheas óg
Ar an taobh thall de'n teóra 'na mbím.
Tá féile 'gus daonnacht is meóin
Is deise ró mhór ins an mhnaoi,

Tá folt lei a' tuitim go feóir,
Go cocánach ómarach buí.
Tá lasadh 'na leacain mar rós,

Is ar éirinn . . .

Ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

Translation:

Last night as I strolled abroad,
On the far side of my farm,
I was approached by a comely maiden,
Who left me distraught and weak.

I was captivated by her demeanor and shapeliness;
By her sensitive and delicate mouth.
I hastened to approach her.
But for Ireland, I'd not tell her name.

If only this maiden heeded my words,
What I'd tell her would be true.
Indeed I'd devote myself to her,
And see to her welfare.

I would regale her with my story.
And I longed to take her to my heart,
Where I'd grant her pride of place.
But for Ireland, I'd not tell her name.

There is a beautiful young maiden,
On the far side of my farm.
Generosity and kindness shine in her face.
With the exceeding beauty of her countenance.

Her hair reaches to the ground.
Sparkling like yellow gold;
Her cheeks blush like the rose.

But for Ireland . . .

I'd not tell her name.

Nameless · 07-31-2004, 02:35 PM

Succession
------------------------------------------------------------

I never wanted this.
I never dreamed, that things would come to this.
I never dreamed of this.

Not this . . .
***

Lend me an ear,
So I can cry.
. . .
I’ve never cried before.

I’ve been exposed.
I cannot hide.
. . .
I cannot bear this pain alone,
All my life . . .

It always comes around to this,
Doesn’t it?

I’ll never escape.

And if I manage to survive,
And get past this . . .

I’ll just come back to this . . .

***
I never wanted this.
I never dreamed, that things would come to this.
I never dreamed of this.

Not this . . .

Anything but this . . .
***

Lost, in a space,
Of forgotten dreams, and lost horizons.

Lost, in a space,
Outside of space . . .

Mingling with lost souls,
And lost environments.
That were lost to all our fathers,
. . .
And lost to us.

Maybe in a dream,
These things were different.
But it’s distant from our lives.

Maybe,
If I had lived;
In another place,
Or in another time.
. . .
I would have the strength I need,
To claim, what is mine.
. . .

What is mine?
***

And slipping back between the cracks,
Of the universe.
Everything, begins to merge;
Then separate.
. . .
Reality, disintegrates,
In front of me.
. . .
And I am lost,
Inside of cold infinity.

(I never wanted this.)

07-29-2004, 03:43 PM	#61 (permalink)
SangReal Senior Member Join Date: Oct 2003 Location: In Love Age: 24 Posts: 631 Points: 1,504.89 Bank: 21,023.62 Total Points: 22,528.51 Donate	Much, much better. My eyes were bleeding. Periods and commas I can handle. I really do appreciate that you didn't get all pissed off or anything. I really respect you for that, and if I hadn't already repped you, I would do it again. Thanks too for your comments in my thread. <3 Mary __________________ United States of America, looks like another silent night As we're sung to sleep by philosophies that save the trees and kill the children But You called me beautiful when you saw my shame And You placed me on the wall...anyway...

07-30-2004, 09:13 AM	#63 (permalink)
Nameless Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2004 Location: ??? Age: 25 Posts: 215 Points: 3,959.88 Bank: 0.00 Total Points: 3,959.88 Donate	Poem Perhaps another love poem. So everyone knows that I do feel happy sometimes. Including me. Silk: ------------------------------------------------------------ Silken lips, Caress my cheek. Been lain upon your sofa; Been lain upon, oblivion. Hovering, above my face. Moving slowly, Brow to brow. Gently, guiding me, Back from the abyss. Gently, loving me, Kiss after, sweet kiss. Silken, fingertips. Swept across my shoulder blades. Gazing up into your eyes. Gazing up, into oblivion. Hovering, across my chest. Moving slowly; Breast to breast. Gently, guiding me, Into the abyss. Gently, loving me, Kiss after, sweet kiss. Last edited by Nameless : 08-01-2004 at 09:33 AM.

07-31-2004, 07:08 AM	#69 (permalink)
Nameless Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2004 Location: ??? Age: 25 Posts: 215 Points: 3,959.88 Bank: 0.00 Total Points: 3,959.88 Donate	Ok - Just in case you guys haven't noticed yet, I like variety. So this time I'm going to share somthing different with you. Don't get scared and run off when I tell you what it is. Give it a chance; you might actually enjoy it. This is a traditional Irish song. It's ok . . . It'll be ok . . . Stay calm . . . You see, most of my family moved over to the states not too long before I was born. Throughout the years, we've been back a few times, but I never got to experience it like the rest of the family. Never the-less, it's always felt like home to me. Music is about the most influential force in my life. I grew up around this kind of music, and it always makes me feel closer to my ancestors . . . So I'm going to share one with you. The Banks of the Ocean ------------------------------------------------------------ The Dutchman's, not the kind of man, To keep his thumb, jammed in the dam, That holds, his dreams in . . . But that's a secret, only Margaret knows. When Amsterdam is golden, in the morning, Margaret brings him breakfast; she believes him . . . He thinks the tulips, bloom, beneath the snow. He's mad as he can be, But Margaret, only sees that sometimes; Sometimes, she sees, her unborn children, In his eyes . . . Chorus: Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . . Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee. Long ago, I used to be a young man . . . And dear Margaret, remembers that for me. ______ The Dutchman, still wears wooden shoes. His cap and coat, are patched with love, That Margaret sewed in . . . Sometimes, he thinks, he's still in Rotterdam. He watches tugboats, down canals, and calls out to them, When he thinks, he knows, the captain . . . 'Till Margaret comes, to take him home again. Through unforgiving streets, That trip him, though she holds his arm; Sometimes, he thinks that he's alone, And calls her name . . . Chorus: Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . . Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee. Long ago, I used to be a young man . . . And dear Margaret, remembers that for me. ______ The windmills, swirl the winter in, As she winds his muffler tighter; They sit in, the kitchen . . . And the tea with whiskey, keeps away the dew. He sees her for a moment, calls her name, She makes his bed up; humming some, old love song . . . She learned it when the tune, was very new. She hums, a line or two; They hum together, in the night . . . The Dutchman falls asleep, and Margaret blows, The candle out . . . Chorus: Let us go to the banks of the ocean . . . Where the walls, rise above, the Zuiderzee. Long ago, I used to be a young man . . . And dear Margaret, remembers that for me. ______ X2 ------------------------------------------------------------ God only knows who wrote this next song. I didn't. It's hundreds of years old and it's changed with time. But not much. It's really beautifull. That's why I wanted to post it here. If anyone wants to listen to it, let me know. And don't freak out, there's a translation at the bottom. Ar Eirinn Ni Neosainn Ce Hi ------------------------------------------------------------ Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím, Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn. Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló, Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn, Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair, Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. Dá ngéilleadh an spéir-bhean dom' ghlór, Siad ráidhte mo bheól a bheadh fíor; Go deimhin duit go ndéanfainn a gnó Do léirchur i gcóir is i gcrich. Dó léighfinn go léir stair dom' stór, 'S ba mhéinn liom í thógaint dom chroí, 'S do bhearfainn an chraobh dhi ina dóid, Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. Tá spéir-bhruinneal mhaordha dheas óg Ar an taobh thall de'n teóra 'na mbím. Tá féile 'gus daonnacht is meóin Is deise ró mhór ins an mhnaoi, Tá folt lei a' tuitim go feóir, Go cocánach ómarach buí. Tá lasadh 'na leacain mar rós, Is ar éirinn . . . Ní n-eósainn cé h-í. Translation: Last night as I strolled abroad, On the far side of my farm, I was approached by a comely maiden, Who left me distraught and weak. I was captivated by her demeanor and shapeliness; By her sensitive and delicate mouth. I hastened to approach her. But for Ireland, I'd not tell her name. If only this maiden heeded my words, What I'd tell her would be true. Indeed I'd devote myself to her, And see to her welfare. I would regale her with my story. And I longed to take her to my heart, Where I'd grant her pride of place. But for Ireland, I'd not tell her name. There is a beautiful young maiden, On the far side of my farm. Generosity and kindness shine in her face. With the exceeding beauty of her countenance. Her hair reaches to the ground. Sparkling like yellow gold; Her cheeks blush like the rose. But for Ireland . . . I'd not tell her name. Last edited by Nameless : 08-01-2004 at 03:45 AM.

07-31-2004, 02:35 PM	#70 (permalink)
Nameless Junior Member Join Date: Jun 2004 Location: ??? Age: 25 Posts: 215 Points: 3,959.88 Bank: 0.00 Total Points: 3,959.88 Donate	Poem Succession ------------------------------------------------------------ I never wanted this. I never dreamed, that things would come to this. I never dreamed of this. Not this . . . * Lend me an ear, So I can cry. . . . I’ve never cried before. I’ve been exposed. I cannot hide. . . . I cannot bear this pain alone, All my life . . . It always comes around to this, Doesn’t it? I’ll never escape. And if I manage to survive, And get past this . . . I’ll just come back to this . . . * I never wanted this. I never dreamed, that things would come to this. I never dreamed of this. Not this . . . Anything but this . . . * Lost, in a space, Of forgotten dreams, and lost horizons. Lost, in a space, Outside of space . . . Mingling with lost souls, And lost environments. That were lost to all our fathers, . . . And lost to us. Maybe in a dream, These things were different. But it’s distant from our lives. Maybe, If I had lived; In another place, Or in another time. . . . I would have the strength I need, To claim, what is mine. . . . What is mine? * And slipping back between the cracks, Of the universe. Everything, begins to merge; Then separate. . . . Reality, disintegrates, In front of me. . . . And I am lost, Inside of cold infinity. (I never wanted this.)

Thread Tools	Search this Thread
Show Printable Version Email this Page	Search this Thread: Advanced Search
Display Modes
Linear Mode Switch to Hybrid Mode Switch to Threaded Mode

07-30-2004, 03:04 PM	#64 (permalink)
axeslinger0u812 Fledgling Post Monkey Join Date: Aug 2003 Location: Neither here, nor there Age: 24 Posts: 1,695 Points: 564.28 Bank: 0.00 Total Points: 564.28 Donate	That was awesome. Very sweet, and the way you used repetitive lines and structure, but changed things just slightly enough to create an entirely new visual, is amazing. It's funny you mentioned that you write love songs when your happy, because I could be married to Lindsay Lohan, and I couldn't write a good love song. I can't write a love song that doesn't sound like a Backstreet boys song.

Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)