The Forum's Scriptorium

[Snoots Dwagon]

My pomes not all so eerie.   That one just popped to mind.  Figured I'd try the shocker first. Mwahahahaa...

[Róisín]

Was Ogden Nash perhaps a formative influence on your verse?

[Snoots Dwagon]

Dunno who Ogden Nash is.  I just write stuff.

[Róisín]

American humorous and satirical poet. Blackly funny, and given to cautionary tales. Another poet you might find interesting was Hilaire Belloc, also given to blackly humorous moral tales.

[Windfighter]

Wrote another Avengers fanfic I'm stupidly proud over, mostly because it was pretty much the opposit of my comfort-zone and it still ended up pretty well!
(what even is the opposit of whump? Hopefully this)

Shut up and dance with me
 It's time for the Avengers to retire and of course Tony sets up a huge party in order to see them off.

[JoB]

I've never done much creative work in the first place, but this week, I had to do a long-distance car drive with nothing to do but strangling the steering wheel for a total of ~12h ... and somehow got hooked on the idea of "if someone where to spec these two protagonists and the basic plot between them, but forbade the story to ever say any of that out loud, would it be possible to still get the message across in just one of those short short stories you wimp max out at?" So - have fun, and a guess!

King Wincent the Nightmared and His Bestiary

Verdine looked down at the figure helplessly suspended in front of her chest. "The proper place for the entire lot of them," my brethren would say, she thought. She did not share that opinion, but this one of the rare half-eyed among the blind had tried nothing less than to make her into his tool. That should certainly earn him an exception.
She had been so surprised at this audacity that she didn't even think of fighting back at first, and once she had regained her senses and noticed how inadequate his means were, she had continued to play along. As she had suspected, it took only a couple more days until he grew bold enough to seek out and intercept the local king's caravan, thinking the crown up to him for grabs.
While the fool yelled out his challenge, having brought along nothing but Verdine to back his threats, she had had a long look at the chariots slowly, one after the other, grinding to a halt. Once she had decided that they were standing in front of a satisfyingly large audience for a reminder of a couple things they are not meant to meddle with, the "enthralled beast" had simply dropped the charade and interrupted its "captor" in mid-sentence.
"Now, you robe-wrapped wannabe," she spoke again, mixing smoke and embers into her breath so that his kinfolk wouldn't mistake her unchangeable face and voice for an absence of anger. "Do you have a wish as to how many triplets of legs you'ld like to have, once I'm done making you into an example of what can be done by wielding the powers properly?"

[Keep Looking]

Roisin recommended I put my poem about hydrocarbon fuels here as well, so I may as well do it.

And yes. It’s a poem about hydrocarbon fuels. Semi-inspired by all the poetry in the comments, and also my brain thinking ‘my science class won’t see this coming.’ And they won’t.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VL_khLgR88rWEaPy_aYYWlGYhXH1uMXQr5vOYsEW9zI

[Keep Looking]

I was walking down by the beach this afternoon and for some reason I started composing a poem. Interpret its vaguely ominous words however you wish.

Don’t tarry in the woods alone
For sharp is leaf and sharp is stone
And sharper still the shadows’ bite
Before the seeds of dawn are sown

Don’t tarry in the fields at night
For though the stars may cast their light
Their shine does naught to banish those
Who only flee from sunlight bright

Don’t tarry by the shore at dawn
When wind and waves will softly mourn
The ghosts of mem’ries passed away
In songs alluring, long forlorn

[Snoots Dwagon]

Ohhh likes that one Emily.   I especially like the unusual rhyming scheme which gives it an even more odd feeling.  Well done!  : )

[Róisín]

Emily-Rose, your last two poems are lovely, with this new one being beautiful, meditative and creepy.

[Keep Looking]

I wrote some poetry while I was away.

This one’s inspired by a late-night beach trip:

The wave-tops crashing whisper low
On pale and powdered sand
The water dark, it twists and flows
As by the shore I stand
On this still and slowly greying night
In this dim and ever-darkening light

The half-moon casts a golden glow
On sand and sea to lie
Like the port-lights down below
The hunter in the sky
On this still and softly flowing night
In this dim and ever-distant light

And soon, too soon, the dawn will break
Though here it seems so far
But as for now, I’ll stay and wait
And watch the waves and stars
On this still and swiftly passing night
In this dim and ever-dreaming light

...

This poem was written at sunset. We were staying in Esperance, and quite a lot of the smoke from the fires in the Goldfields and the Nullarbor had blown over, so the sky was very hazy. Thankfully those fires were not in very populated areas, but the Eyre highway, the only sealed road that connects South Australia with Western Australia, was blocked, so a lot of people and trucks got stuck. This also gave me some interesting driving experience involving winding country roads and large convoys of road trains going the other way.

Fallen from a browned and hazy sky
Across the waves a glist’ning ribbon lies
That shimmers in its golden, twisting dance
And sends its sparks like embers set a fly

And like a trail, it leads into the west
To touch the sun ‘til ‘neath the hills it sets

...

This poem was written while I was staying at a friend’s vineyard near the town where I grew up and lived in for eleven years. It’s a place that I still love, but it’s also a place where I experienced a lot of pain and loneliness, so my feelings about it are... mixed. I don’t think this poem is as well-written as the others, but it was something I needed to write.

I miss the streets I saw each day
   each house and turn I know
I miss the forest paths well-trod
   where young and bright we’d go
I miss the flowers rare and small
   the trees with reaching arms
I miss the quiet of the night
   the bright and glitt’ring stars

And coming back, I miss them even more
For this is not the home it was before

I left the places that I loved
   the people that I knew
I left the ones who saw me as
   the brightest in the room
I left the twisting social dance
   that always felt quite wrong
I left the lonely girl behind
   who never quite belonged

And coming back, the things I left behind
Will haunt me still, though futures I will find

I am the girl whose heart belongs
   to friends and city lights
Yet also still to forests tall
   and quiet, starlit nights
I am the one who’s changed so much
   while much here seems the same
Not many here will know me soon
   though most still know my name

And coming back, I know my heart still yearns
For what I miss, but I cannot return

[Róisín]

You poetry is very fine. You catch well the feel of the land.

[wavewright62]

These are all excellent poems.  I think you should take the spoiler off, though.  I've taken to heart a complaint someone made in the Art Museum thread, about their frustration in going back at another time and finding a work they loved.  They felt frustrated by having to stop, find the spoilers, and take time opening and closing them. 
For this work, a quick scan past would look like a reply post, and perhaps miss some mighty fine poetry.
YMMV.

[Snoots Dwagon]

I agree.  Providing spoilers is a kind thought (especially on a board like IMDB) but I doubt is much needed here.   If people find these forums... they likely have already read SSSS. 

[Keep Looking]

Thank you, Wavewright and Roisin! Wavewright and Snoots, I’ve taken your advice and removed the spoiler. I guess I like them because I ... ha ... like the feeling of clicking it and having it reveal stuff, but what you said makes sense, and looking at it now, the post wasn’t that long.