Ars Poetica - Total War Heaven Forum

Topic Subject:

Ars Poetica

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 09 September 2009 11:49 EDT (US)

Welcome, fellow Bards, to the Poetry Thread.

Seeing Andalus's thread, specifically reserved for his own poetry, I thought it was high-time someone opened a thread devoted to all poetry. Anyone may share their poems here - except Andalus of course.

So what are you waiting for? Get writing!

edit- *cringe*

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Lord Eddie (edited 07-01-2014 @ 09:28 AM).]

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Replies:

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 09 September 2009 14:16 EDT (US) 1 / 18

I originally posted this on another thread, but that one died a long time ago, so...

The Price of War

Long they fought and bravely,
And in the end victory was theirs;
But many a noble youth and a strong
Fell, and their lot Fyn now shares.

The Winter saw blood and violence,
The Summer means life returns;
With life came home the army
To where many a lover yearns.

At fair Samrobriva
O! Samarobriva fair,
Remained Cardua long in earnest,
awaiting her loved one there.

As the warriors marched into the city,
At the roadside she stood,
And watching the fallen carried in she saw
What she feared
Fyn lying,
drench�d
in his own red blood.

Their son she raised by herself,
Dochas she named him, or Hope;
But, ever seeking her lover,
For death would she always grope.

So this is the Price of War,
The death of our loved ones dear;
For such a principle, however glorious,
Is sure to bring many a tear.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 09-09-2009 @ 03:20 PM).]

JrvUnleashed
Legionary

posted 09 September 2009 15:59 EDT (US) 2 / 18

Nice poem!

I'm only 16, so I don't have the greatest poems, so constructive criticism is welcomed. I'm pretty new to poetry anyway, and I find it fascinating.

This poem takes perspective of a young English boy in the late 19th century, although some of his thoughts are similar to revelations I've had myself:

Old Man in The Night

I looked upon the midnight street,
watching an unfamiliar sight,
Where the sidewalk and the black road meet,
An old man wanders in night,
Tattered clothes and a rugged beard,
And no possessions with him,
He scratched his head and hopelessly leered,
At my window of the Inn,
I looked upon him and he looked to me,
Our eyes fixed hard on each other,
He was unable to pay the Inn fee,
While my fee had been payed by my mother,
What, I wondered, had this man done,
To deserve his place in society,
I have all and he has none,
Is this really what he wants to be?
Where�d he go wrong, where�d he lose hope,
Of a life that could be more?
Where did he begin to stop climbing the rope,
To get to my current floor?
What had he done, did he have a profession?
Did he have friends or family?
What did he do, what horrible transgression,
Had he done this action readily?
He shrugged and coughed and removed his gaze,
And continued to walk down the road,
I leaned back and began to daze,
And thought about what the man showed,
I may never know where that man fell astray,
Or what he had not done right,
But I will never go another day,
Without remembering his gaze that night.

Here is another. It's free verse, and it's heavily based on dialogue. I wrote it with a similar moral to the first, only with a darker feel:

Two Men in the Street

He walked along the moonlit road and looked for where he had parked,
There was no sign of his new shiny car that he parked farther than normal,
He loosened his tie and looked at his Rolex, and pondered where it could be,
Then suddenly from the depths of the shadows a figure emerged in the night,
It approached the man snarling and cursing and flailing a small metal object,
It stopped about 10 feet in front of the man and pointed it�s metal at him,
As the man�s eyes adjusted to the night he could see the figure was a man,
The two stood opposite each other and looked into each others eyes,
One with a suit, Rolex and tie, the other with a T-shirt, baggy pants, and a gun.
The man with the Rolex shouted in an angry manner with in confidence and might.
�Move out of my way you pathetic little rat, I have more important things to do,�
The man with the gun continued to aim and replied very quickly to this,
�What makes you think you are better than me and you can boss me around?�
The man with the Rolex paused for a moment and looked on with strength,
�You are nothing to me. I own a house, car, and a whole lot of money,�
�What do you have, some baggy pants, a gun and some drugs?�
�I struggled my whole life to get where I am and you simply failed at it all,�
�You lie, cheat, and steal, and now you�re threatening my life�
The man with the gun found within him words he had not heard of before,
He paused for a moment and began to chuckle to himself, then he replied with power,
�Why does that matter? Yes you succeeded where I failed, and yes you have a better life,�
�But don�t you see the irony, you�re no better than me!�
�You�ve struggled all your life to make it to the top, like a tractor through corn,�
�Stepping on people, hurting people, and cutting people down to get to where you are,�
� You�ve sold your soul for money and you stand here today and insult me!�
�You�re disgusting. Your greed is insatiable, always wanting more than what you have,�
�I don�t care what you say, you�re no better than me,�
The man with the Rolex stepped back a little and thought for a moment,
�Look here,� he replied with less confidence, �I�m not the one pointing a gun!�
�You are clearly the one doing wrong here, not the other way around,�
�Maybe I�m not the best person, but I�m still greater than you. I am a powerful man,�
�I am the best of the best! You are scum. Nothing but a twig under my foot!�
The man with the gun laughed harder now and calmed himself to talk,
�Powerful? You are standing on a street with no defense with a gun pointed at you,�
�I don�t care how much money you have, it doesn�t make you bullet proof,�
�You see, when you take away the money, the car, the Rolex and the suit,�
�You are nothing but another man, just like me,�
�You live, you breath, and you can die with ease,�
�When we�re both dead who will care that you had more money than me?�
�We are one and the same. Two men in the street.�
The moon lost strength now and the darkness grew,
The two opposing figures began to fade,
All that was left were two black entities in the night,
Two snarling beasts, one and the same.

"Communism is like a Mistress you later learn is a Mister and no amount of showers will ever wash away the shame.
Capitalism on the other hand is like the bosom of a women fresh out of the kitchen with sweat on her brow and enough milk to feed a village of children for weeks. And I'll tell you something: I. Want. That. Bosom."

Gallowglass
Legionary

posted 09 September 2009 16:28 EDT (US) 3 / 18

I'll read the rest of that poem later, but from what I read it actually seemed pretty good.

Prince we called him, for prince he was,
The High Prince of the Seed of Conn,
King of the Hebrides, King of Mann,
King of Antrim, King of Kintyre,
From the edge of the world to moonlit sands,
Son of world rulers, and the Lord of the Isles.

An unexpected and exquisite thought,
The fruits of wealth had their efforts brought,
An isle Paradise, a precious diamond,
The wealth earned by the nobility of the poor,
From ocean to ocean, island to island,
No long with the banners and drums of war.

A bewildering maze of opinion and fact,
A convenient makeshift martial dance,
As bloodless as a diplomat,
Makes men beat both drum and man to glass,
Those who poured the drink never bring it back;
Who drinks victory is but who stood there last.

So long as nations are mistresses in their own midden,
The mother looks after those of her own litter,
Those who come uninvited must sit down unbidden,
But against the banners and drums of war, such bitter,
Disputes and disagreements are a good mirror.

------m------m------
(o o)
(~)

Monkey beats bunny. Please put Monkey in your signature to prevent the rise of bunny.
m0n|<3yz r 2 pwn n00b

[This message has been edited by Gallowglass (edited 09-09-2009 @ 04:32 PM).]

Andalus
Legionary

posted 12 September 2009 07:42 EDT (US) 4 / 18

Good poems, all!

so constructive criticism is welcomed.

Since you ask, you shall receive.

I prefer the first one. Some good imagery in there, with a strong message. I particular liked the metaphor of climbing the rope to your floor - good combination of metaphor and reality. One comment is that some rhymes seem a little forced. e.g. "To deserve his place in society," and "Is this really what he wants to be?". You have to look at more than the last syllable. Try and make the couple before fit as well. So a better rhyme for society might be 'piety', 'anxiety', 'variety', etc.

For the second, my first thought is the format should be sorted out. Try and put some spaces in and create stanzas - it makes it clearer to read and understand, particularly as this is a dialogue. My second thought is that is loses something in the middle. The start and end are good, but the middle part becomes very prose-like. Also, although poems do not have to rhyme, even if they don't, try and maintain a rhythm in the lines. I do very much like the end though, an excellent image in the mind's eye.

[This message has been edited by Andalus (edited 09-12-2009 @ 10:08 AM).]

JrvUnleashed
Legionary

posted 12 September 2009 12:09 EDT (US) 5 / 18

Thanks, I'll think about that next time I write a free verse.

Gallowglass
Legionary

posted 13 September 2009 11:18 EDT (US) 6 / 18

O mother mountain glare,
The sun across the windswept snow,
The wild eastern burning flare,
The crimson ocean's morning glow,

The unbroken mountain wall,
Crowned by quartz-veined cliffs and ancient roads,
Carved by frozen waterfalls,
On which the birlinn's shadow's thrown.

The civilising scenes of unknown value,
With mountain walls like those of ancient Rome,
With what zeal do you defend yourself, and do you
Of the wars for your honour know?

A constant source of surprise and laughter,
The clachans through which your rivers run,
But what of the war, and what of after,
The soldiers, their families, their homes are gone?

A treasury of curious information,
The knowledge of stories told in words and song;
But what if the merchants, their wives, their workers,
What if kings, parliaments, and politicians are wrong?

An unknown opponent of hidden intentions,
Whose objectives are those of sword and gun,
Whose employers wealth ensures are never mentioned,
When their bloodstained treasons are done.

A state of sponsored insurrection,
A species of moral usurpation,
With propaganda and misdirection,
Hold their subjugated population.

When do the designs of a twisted imagination,
With delusions of the government's conscience,
Make a thousand years of meditation,
And an endless amount of blunders?

A less revolutionary innovation;
A simple rule of political fact.
No amount of compensation,
Can change a single barbaric act.

------m------m------
(o o)
(~)

Monkey beats bunny. Please put Monkey in your signature to prevent the rise of bunny.
m0n|<3yz r 2 pwn n00b

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 15 September 2009 14:22 EDT (US) 7 / 18

~~Andalus, you didn't sticky the thread!~~

I can't blame you. You're probably feeling left out and jealous.

I'm only 16, so I don't have the greatest poems,...

Heh heh... no worries. I'm only 14.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 16 September 2009 07:45 EDT (US) 8 / 18

Forget the Feeling

It is six cycles of the moon ago now
That I first realised how I felt for you
But time passed and I never went up to you

I forgot the feeling.

Your hair is a cascade of midnight
Your eyes are twin pools of the moon
But i told myself that you're just a girl

I forced myself to forget the feeling.

In my mind I swore it wasn't true
Tried so hard to convince myself it was a lie
Deep within me I knew it was more than a crush

But I begged myself to forget the feeling.

Now my days are dark, and my nights are a torment
When I'm near you I'm on fire, when you're not near me I despair
You're a goddess of beauty, but beyond reach of mortal man

But I just can't forget the feeling.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 11-18-2009 @ 09:59 AM).]

Andalus
Legionary

posted 16 September 2009 12:26 EDT (US) 9 / 18

Great work! Very powerful poem, and nice stanza progression, it works well to convey the emotion.

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 16 September 2009 13:46 EDT (US) 10 / 18

Why thank you!

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 23 September 2009 13:04 EDT (US) 11 / 18

I should be studying my Latin, but I thought while I'm here I'll just share this poem I wrote. It is based on my own feelings: in real life, she didn't die, but she moved to the US, and never replied to any of my emails or texts, never picked up the phone... I could make a lot more of that. Maybe in some future poem.

Anyway, this is about her. If you're out there somewhere, Ceira, I won't forget.

I hope my girlfriend can't see this

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

Long Way To Nowhere

You're gone, out of sight, out of mind
Into the realms of the dark
You moved on, but you left me behind
I'm facing the road alone.

Plans forever we made together
We'd've been hand-in-hand all our lives
I open my eyes, my hand falls to my side
I bow my head and set out alone.

Without you I'll be lost all my life
You were everything that I ever loved
Cursed to live, decades alone
God damn me, but it's a long way to nowhere.

With love, Edorix.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 09-27-2009 @ 02:05 PM).]

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 03 October 2009 15:11 EDT (US) 12 / 18

Into Memory

Happy moments spent with you
Kayaks and swimming in streams
Drying off on the grassy banks together

Now passing
Fading
Slipping away -

Into memory.

Sweet moments in your company
Hand-in-hand, walking by the sea
I hold you close, lovin' that I'm livin'

Now passing
Fading
Slipping away -

Into memory.

Joyful moments with you by my side
In a forest, under dappled green light
Oh so perfect our first ever kiss

Now passing
Fading
Slipping away -

Into memory.

For the first time I remember
I felt whole, but now you're going
Departing, away to where I cannot follow

I'm grasping
Snatching
Losing you -

Into memory.

There's no way back down the road that we took
Now you're almost nothing.

You're passing
Fading
Slipping away -
Falling

Into memory.

I won't forget.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 10-18-2009 @ 12:17 PM).]

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 08 November 2009 03:22 EDT (US) 13 / 18

Let's try something lighter... sorry it's in Latin.

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

Bibant

bibat ille, bibat illa
bibat servvs et ancilla
dvm omnes vinvm bibimvs
ocvlis domini nemo servvs!

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

In translation (accurate but not as fun as the original):

Let them drink

Let him drink, let her drink
Let slave and slave-girl drink
While all of us are drinking wine
To the eyes of the master, no-one is a slave.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 11-08-2009 @ 03:26 AM).]

Lasting men
Legionary

posted 08 November 2009 12:58 EDT (US) 14 / 18

English is gone forever! At least it sounds nice

.

[Edit] Heh I just found the translation...doh!

�We call Japanese soldiers fanatics when they die rather than surrender, whereas American soldiers who do the same thing are called heroes� - Robert Maynard Hutchins

�The notion that human life is sacred just because it is human life is medieval.� - Peter Singer

[This message has been edited by Lasting men (edited 11-08-2009 @ 01:02 PM).]

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 18 November 2009 09:51 EDT (US) 15 / 18

You want English, huh? Fair enough.

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

Man in Time

or,

On And On

Looking back
At the stream of time
Is like flying
Flying above
An imperfect world.

The Colosseum
Stonehenge, the Parthenon
Monuments of the past
To mark our place
In time.

Progress
Relentless research
Like a justification
For what we do
With what we make.

A superweapon
Dropped on Mumbai
Fourteen million
Deaths at once
We could.

This is what
We call technology
Skill, science
Of twenty thousand years
Progress.

Man in time
What we do
We get better and better
At finding new ways
Of killing each other.

Up and up
Reach for the stars
Down and down
Six feet under.

For better or for worse
We go on and on.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

[This message has been edited by Edorix (edited 11-18-2009 @ 09:56 AM).]

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 10 December 2009 14:07 EDT (US) 16 / 18

Wow, I thought we had a lot of budding poets round here.

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 31 January 2010 16:12 EDT (US) 17 / 18

Okay, no more corny love-poetry about made-up girlfriends.

I think I'm going to use this poem for my profile.

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

Cowards from Gaul-land, Rome-dun
They conquered us
Saxons from Jutland, Angles
They butchered us
Normans and Norsemen from across the strait
They mastered us
Why did you not leave us just alone where we belong?

This is our land
The Island of the Mighty
You do not come from here
Across the sea you should return
Do you think that the Empires you conquer
So far from home
Justify your right to rule o'er those who came before?

Fear us, foreign men,
For our strength is not yet spent!
We are the sons of Don,
The Painted Ones, we'll beat you yet!
This Island belongs to us!
No force of arms can drive us back!

Though in time our memories wane
Our will to be free remains the same
Through all the sorrow and the pain
You wrought on us for material gain
Despite all this, our faith remains
In the knowledge that someday we'll reclaim
From you, this island with no true name
Someday, we'll see it free again.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

Edorix
High King of Britain

posted 04 February 2010 13:21 EDT (US) 18 / 18

Aeons Ago

Aeons Ago

Kings we had, both strong and just
Our warriors were never laid low
Our Druids prayed, our bards told tales
Aeons and aeons ago.

From the White Cliffs to Celydon Forest
Our ways were shared by all
Oh Albion! Where are th' proud Painted Ones
Of aeons and aeons ago?

Our ways are lost, our faiths forgot,
The lands we knew are gone
Our leaders dead, our warriors fled
Aeons and aeons ago.

� EDORIX �
~ ancient briton ~

/\
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(dis ma house)

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