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| Red Violin in the Volcano; anger+angst=bad | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 27 2006, 07:52 AM (104 Views) | |
| Holocollector | Apr 27 2006, 07:52 AM Post #1 |
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Christmas is Coming
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Ok with this poem I think I have officially gone to intermediate skill level of making poems. This a poem I did a project on volcanos. I gave female friend Of mine this poem to read, we worked on the project together. Anyways It has anger and angst we worked Together on the project and I was bored. Did this all myself. And the message Is clearer than water, and the Rthyme scheme finally got it down. This is a supernatural poem, my new favorite kind of poetry. Red Violin in the Volcano Sometimes I have a time of Stillness, but everyday I wake, And I stare at the walls, But the walls seemed to Be too binding, of my Yellow hotness, the walls bind me, And keep me away from Everyone and lock me, my Anger locked deep inside me Hurting from pain, and the strings Of my heart played softly, Like a Red Violin. So I go outside today, The strings of anger and Sadness play, and I flood The land. Clambering through Ten-foot thick tall weed. And Everyday I run as fast as I can, red-headed from anger, Tumbling down forests and Trees. So everyday when the Volcanoes erupt, the redness on My face, reddened of anger. Sweat pouring down my orifices, Like red-hot magma pouring down My long face. And that was when I Fell down from anger. As if Weak, unable to move, maybe I had nothing more to say. The people ran away from Me again, the trees grew taller Where they hid, the forest That grew several meters bigger Where they lived, and the Ocean water seemed to come In huge curly waves, of very Intelligent sea animals Isolated Stuck at bay. Really were They afraid of seeing pain? Only fate could be keeping them Away, when I seeped through My cracks and shacked, it was A fiery earthquake. But why I asked were they afraid? Were they like me? Angry, Misguided locked away, in walls Of stillness? Laws that binded my Anger, so when freedom called For me from anger, like a Whistle calling they ran away? Hearing The eruption coming again. It could be that they were afraid? The strings inside me seemed to Vibrate, and it seemed to play, Like a violin, noisy, quarrelsome. But then it had began, to rain Blue rain, people that had ran away From me, came out from tall Trees of jade, but the ocean was Calm, like sets of graves, and people Were Far away concealed. I shivered and shacked, With wintry vibrations, or So it seemed or could it be? Were they hurt? But who Really cared anyways? The planet Forever mine. Would be land Maybe someday. I would beat up Anyone away. Just once more, Once again, and then silence Would fall again. Lava all locked Up in these grim walls, and still They would be free once more, Pouring hot burning lava down trees And then, and then, it would rain Blue rain, and blue coolness from these Strings, would wash this yellow anger Away, from my soul, buried for Many years. Where there beated Very deep underground, A red violin. |
| Note: My english writing skills need work so donīt even think of asking me to change it entirely or relearn my english (the impossible). I donīt like the signature, I willl eventually add a picture. | |
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| Deirdre_the_Sorrowful | May 24 2006, 09:31 AM Post #2 |
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Summoner
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i like. for some reason "tall trees of jade" stuck out in my mind - it's a good phrase. the violin sections are my favorites; i think the language and symbolism used are powerful. |
![]() The road to glory is unnecessary for those with wings. | |
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12:55 AM Jul 11