goldvermilion87: (Default)
"What pain it was to drown"

Beneath the winds and waves of stormy night
Lies water cold but peaceful, in which I,
Recoiling from the thought of any fight
Might lose my soul to deadly fantasy.

Both corpse and open coffer lie below
And sapphires shine where once were living eyes
But, poetry-beguiled, I do not know
That metaphors incarnate are vile lies.

My mind and senses numb, I reach to touch
A coronet of gold on weed-wreathed hair
I pry a scepter from a corpse’s clutch
And will not recognize my need for air.

So that I’ll seek the true, immortal crown,
Lord, let me feel what pain it is to drown.
goldvermilion87: (Default)
"What pain it was to drown"

Beneath the winds and waves of stormy night
Lies water cold but peaceful, in which I,
Recoiling from the thought of any fight
Might lose my soul to deadly fantasy.

Both corpse and open coffer lie below
And sapphires shine where once were living eyes
But, poetry-beguiled, I do not know
That metaphors incarnate are vile lies.

My mind and senses numb, I reach to touch
A coronet of gold on weed-wreathed hair
I pry a scepter from a corpse’s clutch
And will not recognize my need for air.

So that I’ll seek the true, immortal crown,
Lord, let me feel what pain it is to drown.
goldvermilion87: (Default)
But pretending to have an English accent is FUN!  So I decided to record myself reading a poem with my best shot at an English accent. 

This is "God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins, which may be one of the most beautiful poems of all time.

God's Grandeur on... chirbit?

(Fear the day when I decide to inflict my TOWIE impression on you.  FEAR IT!)
goldvermilion87: (Default)
But pretending to have an English accent is FUN!  So I decided to record myself reading a poem with my best shot at an English accent. 

This is "God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins, which may be one of the most beautiful poems of all time.

God's Grandeur on... chirbit?

(Fear the day when I decide to inflict my TOWIE impression on you.  FEAR IT!)
goldvermilion87: (Default)
One of my students recited this for Poetry Out Loud yesterday.  It's such an interesting poem:


In the Desert
By Stephen Crane


In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
"Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”





goldvermilion87: (Default)
One of my students recited this for Poetry Out Loud yesterday.  It's such an interesting poem:


In the Desert
By Stephen Crane


In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
"Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”





goldvermilion87: (Default)
For challenge #27 at [livejournal.com profile] watsons_woes.  Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] labourslamp who handed me this idea on a platter after I epically failed at writing a drabble...



Aftermath


Brown-black greased white box
Half chewed prawn on sticky rice
Chopstick snapped in two.

Puddled pillowcase
Fed by fount of saliva
From a snoring face

Blinking message light
Hiding in the brown leather
Of sofa cushions
goldvermilion87: (Default)
For challenge #27 at [livejournal.com profile] watsons_woes.  Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] labourslamp who handed me this idea on a platter after I epically failed at writing a drabble...



Aftermath


Brown-black greased white box
Half chewed prawn on sticky rice
Chopstick snapped in two.

Puddled pillowcase
Fed by fount of saliva
From a snoring face

Blinking message light
Hiding in the brown leather
Of sofa cushions
goldvermilion87: (Default)

A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 







Mission Aborted

There once was a Vulcan named Spock
Whose heart was as hard as a rock
Then Nurse Chapel came by
And he started to cry...
 
"Captain, this verse form is highly illogical."
goldvermilion87: (Default)

A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 







Mission Aborted

There once was a Vulcan named Spock
Whose heart was as hard as a rock
Then Nurse Chapel came by
And he started to cry...
 
"Captain, this verse form is highly illogical."
goldvermilion87: (Default)
A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 






Assy-thingummy

"Some kids who played games about Narnia
Got gradually balmier and balmier"
What Scrubb might have said
Will never be read
But I’m sure that it ended in “barmier.”


A/N:  For any who might not be aware, the first two lines are from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Eustace Clarence Scrubb says them, and Lucy says "First of all, 'Narnia,' and 'balmier' don't rhyme.  Eustace says "it's an assonance" and Edmund says, "Don't ask him what an assy-thingummy is.  He's just longing to be asked."

If anyone else wants to take a crack at finishing Eustace's limerick, please do.  :-D

 


goldvermilion87: (Default)
A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 






Assy-thingummy

"Some kids who played games about Narnia
Got gradually balmier and balmier"
What Scrubb might have said
Will never be read
But I’m sure that it ended in “barmier.”


A/N:  For any who might not be aware, the first two lines are from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Eustace Clarence Scrubb says them, and Lucy says "First of all, 'Narnia,' and 'balmier' don't rhyme.  Eustace says "it's an assonance" and Edmund says, "Don't ask him what an assy-thingummy is.  He's just longing to be asked."

If anyone else wants to take a crack at finishing Eustace's limerick, please do.  :-D

 


goldvermilion87: (Default)
A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 







Not always greener

There was a detective of note
Who hated what his Boswell wrote.
But after he read
What some fangirls said,
He cried, “Watson, your fic gets my vote!”

 


goldvermilion87: (Default)
A limerick for Challenge 003 at [livejournal.com profile] great_tales 







Not always greener

There was a detective of note
Who hated what his Boswell wrote.
But after he read
What some fangirls said,
He cried, “Watson, your fic gets my vote!”

 


goldvermilion87: (Default)
I wanted to post a poem or something for the new year, and this is what came to my mind.  It's not my birthday, but I, too, am 23. 

I know it doesn't sound uproariously happy, but I think it's hopeful, and it's something I'll be thinking about throughout the next year.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on wtih full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.

-John Milton
goldvermilion87: (Default)
I wanted to post a poem or something for the new year, and this is what came to my mind.  It's not my birthday, but I, too, am 23. 

I know it doesn't sound uproariously happy, but I think it's hopeful, and it's something I'll be thinking about throughout the next year.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on wtih full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.

-John Milton
goldvermilion87: (Default)
The bride eyes not her garment,
But her dear bridegroom's face.
I will not gaze at glory,
But on my King of grace;
Not at the crown he gifteth,
But on his pierced hand.
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel's Land.

-adapted from Samuel Rutherford.
goldvermilion87: (Default)
The bride eyes not her garment,
But her dear bridegroom's face.
I will not gaze at glory,
But on my King of grace;
Not at the crown he gifteth,
But on his pierced hand.
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel's Land.

-adapted from Samuel Rutherford.
goldvermilion87: (Default)
These were written when I was in high school.  I find them embarrassing now.   I  mean it.  But I am putting all my fanfic here, so here it is.

Two VERY CHEESY poems )

goldvermilion87: (Default)
These were written when I was in high school.  I find them embarrassing now.   I  mean it.  But I am putting all my fanfic here, so here it is.

Two VERY CHEESY poems )

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