This is a static copy of In the Rose Garden, which existed as the center of the western Utena fandom for years. Enjoy. :)

#176 | Back to Top07-09-2011 04:15:56 PM

Iris
Queen of the Video Box
From: The whispers of twilight
Registered: 12-28-2006
Posts: 2124

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Satyr, I really enjoyed that little story.  Bravo, it was well done.


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f29/IrisBeloved/piano.png

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#177 | Back to Top07-11-2011 01:08:56 PM

Hiraku
Easter Elf #40
From: Singapore
Registered: 02-21-2007
Posts: 6342
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Full circle, there, Satyr cool

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#178 | Back to Top10-15-2011 10:50:39 PM

Hiraku
Easter Elf #40
From: Singapore
Registered: 02-21-2007
Posts: 6342
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Wrote up something this afternoon. To the new joiners of the Garden: If you ever feel creative, come here and post something! We all love to read them cool

In any case, here's something I wrote, which I also posted on my deviantart:

Lil Johnny

Hop on by, hop on by,
on the hilltop covered in
thin sheet of white snow
was Johnny the bunny.

He is as clean as the
White earth beneath his feet.
'til one day when Johnny
found a gray, furry coat.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Lil Johnny the bunny
found a gray, furry coat.

Hop on by, hop on by,
Left a trail across the white earth
by the long furcoat
was Johnny the bunny.

And as he found himself
Deep inside the forest,
That e'ening was when Johnny
ran into the wolves.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Lil Johnny the bunny
Ran into a pack of wolves.

Hop on by, hop on by,
When the hunters found Johnny,
They took a sniff, and
Simply went on their way.

Unhurt and unharmed,
Lil Johnny followed,
To the deeper ends where
The stars do not cry.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Lil Johnny the bunny,
To the depth he shall go.

Hop on by, hop on by,
Walking in the forest
With a pack of hungry wolves
Was Johnny the bunny.

With the moon in the sky,
While the stars do not cry,
That e'ening was when Johnny
Went on his first hunt.

Da-dam, da-dam; Da-dam, da-dam,
Lil Johnny the bunny
Went on his first hunt.

Hop on by, hop on by,
Wolves scurry on and there they are,
Having found their first chase
of the long winter night.

And as it was about
To make its escape,
With a howl and a lunge
Off, its head flew and fell.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Bleeding on the snowy ground,
A severed rabbit's head,
Little Johnny had gone and
Snapped the lil rabbit's head.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Draped in the gray furry coat,
Was none but Lil Johnny.

Da-dam, da-dam; da-dam, da-dam,
Stained the white into red,
Was none but Lil Johnny.

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#179 | Back to Top10-16-2011 05:16:50 PM

Honey Bear
Sunlit Gardener (Prelude)
From: England
Registered: 08-01-2011
Posts: 173
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Seeing as I found this thread immediately after finishing my poem, I figured it was a sign I should put it up. I don't usually write poetry, but... *blushes*


Cosmology


And with a spangled brush full of stars
the night sweeps away the debris of the day
our pretences
our lies
made pale in moonlight
casting sails across the sheets
wrapping you in the hammock of midnight
a spell
woven into your night-dark hair
flax on the pillow
eyelashes of silver cobwebs
skin of egg-white mystery
like the moon
you are my centre of gravity
you pull
and tug
all of the secret tides in my body
but
this bed is far too large
trembling secrets
safe in the calm bay of night
trivialities only for the hot shock of daylight
whispers, shared like shooting stars
and all that I am is aching
to close the light-years between us
to touch the tips of your fingers
against mine
the rotation in the heavens
even gravity
nothing
compared to your hand, closing
the sweetest oyster, over mine
the ebb and flow of galaxies
in our entwined fingers
even though
when the cold grey dawn
rises, pressing like mist against the window
you’ll let go
I’ll remember it still
even when all else is erased
by the scorching baptism of sunrise.

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#180 | Back to Top10-16-2011 08:42:17 PM

satyreyes
no, definitely no cons
From: New Orleans, Louisiana
Registered: 10-16-2006
Posts: 10328
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Honey Bear, apart from the remarkable consistency of your symbolic universe, I love how your poem is bookended by the night sweeping away the day at the beginning and the day scorching away the night at the end.  That and some of your metaphors reminded me of John Donne's "The Sun Rising," which is one of my favorite poems.  etc-love

Hiraku, sometimes I've heard the expression "a wolf in sheep's clothing" and wondered what it would be like for a sheep to be in wolf's clothing.  I think now I know.  You should put this one to music; it feels like it wants to be a song emot-smile

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#181 | Back to Top11-30-2011 04:51:56 PM

ArsenicForBreakfast
Pathtracer
From: The Destination of Your Fate
Registered: 10-14-2007
Posts: 340
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Circa '06...I thought rhyme schemes were for wimps back then.

My Venomous Bea

There were we all; at the table round
We poets, philosophers, priests and kings
The sober choir of wise men
Who speak a thousand tongues

But I, I heard none of that
Too deep ensnared by another force
And that was you, dear Bea
Who sat aside, winding together roses
To hang in a crown about your tanned brow

That eve, we two walked in the garden
Far from the dinner hall
You asked me if I knew of the serpent—

I said, “A garden is fitting for snakes,
Though of demons in disguise, I should think
Such evil would not venture to this place
But stay in the dark, cold valleys
Where the wind freezes.”

Those days, I was young (though not so young as you)
Too much a fool to see the cruel
Soul behind the smile

How eagerly I leapt; into the jaws
Of the tigers and wolves in the mountains
Where lie the secret gates of savagery
How eagerly I journeyed, how proudly
Into the dripping fangs of the beast
Paid no mind to the warning:

“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here”

And now I learned (though much too late)
That you, my venomous Bea
Rip like a whirlwind through men
Through skin
Through flesh
Through bone
Until the marrow shows

Pristine, the delicate blossoms wreath
Your shadow in the garden
By the midnight moon,
As you lap the blood from each crooked finger
The wind whistles through my hollow bones
The voice of a fool:

“Paradiso”

Oh Bea, is it feast enough?


I'm a fan of pessimism: if you maintain the lowest expectations possible, they'll always be met or exceeded.

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#182 | Back to Top12-02-2011 11:50:08 PM

ArsenicForBreakfast
Pathtracer
From: The Destination of Your Fate
Registered: 10-14-2007
Posts: 340
Website

Re: Poetry Thread... (Critiques and Creators welcome!)

Grim shines the red moon
Over fragile skeletons
Of trees once mighty

Watching shooting stars
Awestruck; I remind myself
They're just god's litter

Cold can't permeate
This cloak of isolation
Still my heart's freezing


I'm a fan of pessimism: if you maintain the lowest expectations possible, they'll always be met or exceeded.

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