| Users Online Now: 1,214 (Who's On?) | Visitors Today: 33,603 | |
| Pageviews Today: 53,558 | Threads Today: 21 | Posts Today: 332 |
| 12:34 AM | ||
| Users Online Now: 1,214 (Who's On?) | Visitors Today: 33,603 | |
| Pageviews Today: 53,558 | Threads Today: 21 | Posts Today: 332 |
| 12:34 AM | ||
Whispers From Heaven... | |
| Saddletramp Offer Upgrade  User ID: 740208  Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:09 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 27381766  United States12/23/2012 12:13 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | |
| CeeLite User ID: 30147653 United States12/23/2012 12:16 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:19 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Gracias... I usually write short stories and novels, but occasionally I write poems that I put in my short stories or novels... Glad you liked it... Last Edited by Saddletramp on 12/23/2012 12:19 AM "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 22665853 United States12/23/2012 12:27 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Whispers From Heaven Quoting: Saddletramp by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. turrible |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:28 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:29 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Whispers From Heaven Quoting: Saddletramp by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. turrible Maybe you'll like the poem about the Orgasm I wrote...The Hook... Last Edited by Saddletramp on 12/23/2012 12:30 AM "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 22665853 United States12/23/2012 12:31 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved,  |
| CeeLite User ID: 30147653 United States12/23/2012 12:33 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, Wow!  |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:33 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, Harsh critics on GLP...  "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 27381766 United States12/23/2012 12:33 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | But your poem is a pisser-offer. We are not here now and will never be here again and I can prove it ! A: You (and I and everyone)Have been here before. B: We Can be here again (without the A-holes),It just takes a little study and prompting towards the HIDDEN TRUTH. Hear me out,it will benefit you, substantially. Grab a Bible,KJV original is your best bet. Book of Genesis,first line indicates that God created the Heaven and the Earth and seems to say that the Earth was void. Void = Blank,nada,zilch,etc. When translated to ancient Hebrew it actually says that the Earth "WAS MADE VOID". It helps to have a STRONGS CONCORDANCE AND a COMPANION BIBLE,Suppressed documents! I will be back in a minute as I type more! |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 22665853 United States12/23/2012 12:34 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, Harsh critics on GLP... No, just terrible writers such as yourself. |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:35 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, Wow! Thank you again...  "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:41 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | I have read a lot of your posts and am aware that you are a very smart bloke. Quoting: Anonymous Coward 27381766 But your poem is a pisser-offer. We are not here now and will never be here again and I can prove it ! A: You (and I and everyone)Have been here before. B: We Can be here again (without the A-holes),It just takes a little study and prompting towards the HIDDEN TRUTH. Hear me out,it will benefit you, substantially. Grab a Bible,KJV original is your best bet. Book of Genesis,first line indicates that God created the Heaven and the Earth and seems to say that the Earth was void. Void = Blank,nada,zilch,etc. When translated to ancient Hebrew it actually says that the Earth "WAS MADE VOID". It helps to have a STRONGS CONCORDANCE AND a COMPANION BIBLE,Suppressed documents! I will be back in a minute as I type more! Actually that poem is not meant to be particularly religious, though I am a Christian, the poem itself is meant to be more spiritually inclined, it's from a Novel I'm working on is titled Whispers From Heaven as well, and it's about a person restarting their life in the middle of it...so it kindof fits when you put it in that context... But I am more than willing to hear your theories and evidence thereof for some type of reincarnation... That sounds pretty interesting... Last Edited by Saddletramp on 12/23/2012 12:46 AM "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 12:43 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's one I wrote for a short story I was commissioned to do about a Vampire... Quoting: Saddletramp The Hook a poem by...Me again Drifting over you, like the sands of time; Invading tender reaches, a hands soft touch, enduring tastes so sublime… This is the longing sigh from a needful mind. The heart cries out, like a feather on the wind; Soft veils of lace give way, a lingering breath on yearning skin… This is the maddening touch of a lover’s hand. For she belongs to him, but not him to her; The eager quickening of her pulse, his hearts deafening purr… This is the fools promise of love without allure. Trapped here in this picture, this window in time; Seeing, tasting, touching, feeling everything, two hearts entwine… This is the fleeting moment of release so divine… Copyright 2011, Me, All Rights Reserved, Harsh critics on GLP... No, just terrible writers such as yourself. Those who can't do, are teachers... Those who can't write, are literary critics... "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 27381766 United States12/23/2012 12:58 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Genesis begins with a seemingly duplicate account of the creation of Adam ,however the Hebrew usage of the word Adam are subtle, the first meaning man and the second meaning (e'ha'Adam),Ruddy complected,able to blush, a white man. This is confirmed by Cains expulsion from Eden where he ventured to the land of Nod. Populations pre existing outside of Eden,He got him a wife and built a city? Cain slew Able, his brother. God said his father was the Devil? Kicked him out! Shortly afterwords in Genesis you will find the genealogy of Adam and of Cain! in separate places,Cain was the fraternal twin of Able. Brothers ,not of the same father, Eve was seduced,suckered, got shagged. Able has no genealogical account in Genesis because he was DEAD. On the 7th day God rested AND HE REALIZED THEIR WAS NO MAN TO TILL THE GROUND ! ON THE 8TH DAY. You can Goog 8th day creation for further info but some are culty. You will notice that the end of Cains geneaology says "and these are the Kennites" the Kennites are re appearing in Jeremhia as hired scribes and Jesus is gettin violent with them moneychangers in the Temple? Ben Bernanke,Kissinger,Ashkenazi, ringing any bells yet? |
| Yes I Did !!!! User ID: 30676500 United States12/23/2012 01:06 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Whispers From Heaven Quoting: Saddletramp by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. turrible Maybe you'll like the poem about the Orgasm I wrote...The Hook... Here's mine. LOL A Ship Named “Desire” I could barely endure the brunt of the force, That moved me so, and completely off course. My face was wet, my skin was burning, My legs were weak, my stomach was churning. I held on tightly, to what I could grasp, I could scarcely breathe, I could only gasp, A deluge of waves washed over my core, Drowning out prudence - on the bow, at the fore. Torrents of the onslaught intensified feeling, Assaulting my reason, and leaving me reeling, When all of a sudden, the world was exploding, As white-hot lightening, tore through my foreboding. The thunderous shudders, after those lightening bolts, Echoed through my soul, with deafening jolts. My blood was boiling, my heart was on fire, I love storms at sea, on my ship named “Desire.” © 2010 by ME - all rights reserved "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~ Albert Einstein |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 01:14 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | The Earth MADE void describes the end of the first Earth age and the war in heaven, an angel and his fallen followers gone astray,it can also be accounted for in the Vedas,you already know this. Quoting: Anonymous Coward 27381766 Genesis begins with a seemingly duplicate account of the creation of Adam ,however the Hebrew usage of the word Adam are subtle, the first meaning man and the second meaning (e'ha'Adam),Ruddy complected,able to blush, a white man. This is confirmed by Cains expulsion from Eden where he ventured to the land of Nod. Populations pre existing outside of Eden,He got him a wife and built a city? Cain slew Able, his brother. God said his father was the Devil? Kicked him out! Shortly afterwords in Genesis you will find the genealogy of Adam and of Cain! in separate places,Cain was the fraternal twin of Able. Brothers ,not of the same father, Eve was seduced,suckered, got shagged. Able has no genealogical account in Genesis because he was DEAD. On the 7th day God rested AND HE REALIZED THEIR WAS NO MAN TO TILL THE GROUND ! ON THE 8TH DAY. You can Goog 8th day creation for further info but some are culty. You will notice that the end of Cains geneaology says "and these are the Kennites" the Kennites are re appearing in Jeremhia as hired scribes and Jesus is gettin violent with them moneychangers in the Temple? Ben Bernanke,Kissinger,Ashkenazi, ringing any bells yet? Interesting, Genesis and Revelations are two of my favorites chapters in the Bible, so many esoteric meanings possible from those texts, it's interesting to think of all the possibilities... "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 01:16 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Whispers From Heaven Quoting: Saddletramp by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. turrible Maybe you'll like the poem about the Orgasm I wrote...The Hook... Here's mine. LOL A Ship Named “Desire” I could barely endure the brunt of the force, That moved me so, and completely off course. My face was wet, my skin was burning, My legs were weak, my stomach was churning. I held on tightly, to what I could grasp, I could scarcely breathe, I could only gasp, A deluge of waves washed over my core, Drowning out prudence - on the bow, at the fore. Torrents of the onslaught intensified feeling, Assaulting my reason, and leaving me reeling, When all of a sudden, the world was exploding, As white-hot lightening, tore through my foreboding. The thunderous shudders, after those lightening bolts, Echoed through my soul, with deafening jolts. My blood was boiling, my heart was on fire, I love storms at sea, on my ship named “Desire.” © 2010 by ME - all rights reserved  "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 27381766 United States12/23/2012 01:20 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Poetry is a load of pretentious cack ! So here is my poem. DOG. I took my dog for a walk, on the path he found some Pork. But to my surprise and amazing my eyes,I saw that the Pork could talk. The talking Pork said his name was Ingleburt,and i asked him if anything rhymes with Ingleburt and he said "hell no" but i just got divorced and stuff and I'm a bit whiteman wrangled. Wake up dude. |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 01:33 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Poetry is a load of pretentious cack ! Quoting: Anonymous Coward 27381766 So here is my poem. DOG. I took my dog for a walk, on the path he found some Pork. But to my surprise and amazing my eyes,I saw that the Pork could talk. The talking Pork said his name was Ingleburt,and i asked him if anything rhymes with Ingleburt and he said "hell no" but i just got divorced and stuff and I'm a bit whiteman wrangled. Wake up dude. All writing can be pretentious. I happen to like good poetry now and then. Edgar Allen Poe wrote entire short stories through poetic prose, I'm no where near the poet Poe was, when I write a story I still write mine in story format, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good poem... And some folks seem to like my little poems, though like I said, I've never tried to sell them individually of my Short Stories or Novels. If it's just poetry in general you have a problem with, my advise would be to not read poetry... "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/23/2012 02:10 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Well I'm off to bed... G'Night everyone! Sweet dreams and may peace and love follow and find you all of your days... "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Woot Woot User ID: 29998379  Canada12/23/2012 02:30 AM  Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's mine. LOL Quoting: Yes I Did !!!! A Ship Named “Desire” I could barely endure the brunt of the force, That moved me so, and completely off course. My face was wet, my skin was burning, My legs were weak, my stomach was churning. I held on tightly, to what I could grasp, I could scarcely breathe, I could only gasp, A deluge of waves washed over my core, Drowning out prudence - on the bow, at the fore. Torrents of the onslaught intensified feeling, Assaulting my reason, and leaving me reeling, When all of a sudden, the world was exploding, As white-hot lightening, tore through my foreboding. The thunderous shudders, after those lightening bolts, Echoed through my soul, with deafening jolts. My blood was boiling, my heart was on fire, I love storms at sea, on my ship named “Desire.” © 2010 by ME - all rights reserved Cigarette my lady? |
| Yes I Did !!!! User ID: 30676500 United States12/23/2012 03:14 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here's mine. LOL Quoting: Yes I Did !!!! A Ship Named “Desire” I could barely endure the brunt of the force, That moved me so, and completely off course. My face was wet, my skin was burning, My legs were weak, my stomach was churning. I held on tightly, to what I could grasp, I could scarcely breathe, I could only gasp, A deluge of waves washed over my core, Drowning out prudence - on the bow, at the fore. Torrents of the onslaught intensified feeling, Assaulting my reason, and leaving me reeling, When all of a sudden, the world was exploding, As white-hot lightening, tore through my foreboding. The thunderous shudders, after those lightening bolts, Echoed through my soul, with deafening jolts. My blood was boiling, my heart was on fire, I love storms at sea, on my ship named “Desire.” © 2010 by ME - all rights reserved Cigarette my lady? LOL LOL LOL !! - For sure !!! "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~ Albert Einstein |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 15044657 United States12/23/2012 03:46 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Poetry is a load of pretentious cack ! Quoting: Anonymous Coward 27381766 So here is my poem. DOG. I took my dog for a walk, on the path he found some Pork. But to my surprise and amazing my eyes,I saw that the Pork could talk. The talking Pork said his name was Ingleburt,and i asked him if anything rhymes with Ingleburt and he said "hell no" but i just got divorced and stuff and I'm a bit whiteman wrangled. Wake up dude. All writing can be pretentious. I happen to like good poetry now and then. Edgar Allen Poe wrote entire short stories through poetic prose, I'm no where near the poet Poe was, when I write a story I still write mine in story format, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good poem... And some folks seem to like my little poems, though like I said, I've never tried to sell them individually of my Short Stories or Novels. If it's just poetry in general you have a problem with, my advise would be to not read poetry... Ugh. Edgar Allen Poe is exactly what comes to my mind when ANYBODY posts poetry... and probably the exact image that person had when they used the word "pretentious." Fine if you want to write for your own amusement/enjoyment/whatever, but come on... to bring up Poe you sound like you are 14 years old, going through your goth phase. It's a very specific stereotype that many buy into... bleeding hearts with "so many" emotions.... gack. Not that there's anything wrong with feelings, it's just when they are directed outwards towards others as a means of showing off to garner favor from others (to gain flattery from man)... nobody needs a pat on the back for having human feelings, so this is WHY shit like this gets shot down fast. It's ego. I'm not really speaking directly to you (I was, afterall, going to take your side on this one UNTIL you brought up Poe), but I'm talking to everyone. This Poe thing is a special sort of disease that afflicts the minds of the "I'm special" crowd (whom are probably also alcoholics). I actually keep a notepad document where I jot down certain cliches I notice (I like to categorize things because people really ARE that transparent) and I shit you NOT "Poe kids" is one of them. Along with a bunch of stupid other insignificant categories people fit into... not just people, but media as well... I don't feel that "genres" and "sub-genres" fully describe some types of things, so that's how that began, but anyways, I've said too much. Poe? Please. I have no words to express my disgust. yack yack yack. garbage. fuck anyone who calls themselves an "artist" too, while I'm on it. |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/24/2012 12:43 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Poetry is a load of pretentious cack ! Quoting: Anonymous Coward 27381766 So here is my poem. DOG. I took my dog for a walk, on the path he found some Pork. But to my surprise and amazing my eyes,I saw that the Pork could talk. The talking Pork said his name was Ingleburt,and i asked him if anything rhymes with Ingleburt and he said "hell no" but i just got divorced and stuff and I'm a bit whiteman wrangled. Wake up dude. All writing can be pretentious. I happen to like good poetry now and then. Edgar Allen Poe wrote entire short stories through poetic prose, I'm no where near the poet Poe was, when I write a story I still write mine in story format, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good poem... And some folks seem to like my little poems, though like I said, I've never tried to sell them individually of my Short Stories or Novels. If it's just poetry in general you have a problem with, my advise would be to not read poetry... Ugh. Edgar Allen Poe is exactly what comes to my mind when ANYBODY posts poetry... and probably the exact image that person had when they used the word "pretentious." Fine if you want to write for your own amusement/enjoyment/whatever, but come on... to bring up Poe you sound like you are 14 years old, going through your goth phase. It's a very specific stereotype that many buy into... bleeding hearts with "so many" emotions.... gack. Not that there's anything wrong with feelings, it's just when they are directed outwards towards others as a means of showing off to garner favor from others (to gain flattery from man)... nobody needs a pat on the back for having human feelings, so this is WHY shit like this gets shot down fast. It's ego. I'm not really speaking directly to you (I was, afterall, going to take your side on this one UNTIL you brought up Poe), but I'm talking to everyone. This Poe thing is a special sort of disease that afflicts the minds of the "I'm special" crowd (whom are probably also alcoholics). I actually keep a notepad document where I jot down certain cliches I notice (I like to categorize things because people really ARE that transparent) and I shit you NOT "Poe kids" is one of them. Along with a bunch of stupid other insignificant categories people fit into... not just people, but media as well... I don't feel that "genres" and "sub-genres" fully describe some types of things, so that's how that began, but anyways, I've said too much. Poe? Please. I have no words to express my disgust. yack yack yack. garbage. fuck anyone who calls themselves an "artist" too, while I'm on it. Yeah that's me...Mr. Goth Last Edited by Saddletramp on 12/24/2012 12:45 AM "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 11391214 United States12/24/2012 12:50 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Whispers From Heaven Quoting: Saddletramp by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. turrible damn, tough crowd  |
| Anonymous Coward User ID: 1333814 Canada12/24/2012 12:53 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Let's do something a little different tonight, I'm gloom and doomed out for the week... Quoting: Saddletramp Whispers From Heaven A Poem by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. Song lyrics. Dude learn an instrument. |
| Saddletramp (OP) User ID: 740208 Puerto Rico12/24/2012 12:58 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Let's do something a little different tonight, I'm gloom and doomed out for the week... Quoting: Saddletramp Whispers From Heaven A Poem by...Me The Sun goes down, the Moon comes up, You slowly close your eyes, And somewhere deep within your mind, the shadows start to rise. You can dance with them upon the moon, Or on the head of a pin, While laughing at whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… The days were long, the nights too short, Still you joined the noble fight, You took the time to thank your maker for his eternal light. But whether you danced among the stars, Or on a line drawn with a pen, You can still hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… You didn’t give it up easy, But you wear your guilt upon your sleeve, Sometimes it’s hard to remember those for which we grieve, So whether you dance for his glory, Or believe it is a mortal sin, We all hear whispers from Heaven that we will never be here again… Copyright 2010 by Me, All Rights Reserved. Song lyrics. Dude learn an instrument. Thank you... I actually play a little guitar, but I've never tried banging out my own tunes on it... I'll try that...might be fun. "And how can a man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods..." ~ Horatius "Because he told the truth, and once you've heard the truth, everything else is just cheap whiskey..." "We don't rent pigs!" |
