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  1. I just wanted to add in my praise for this remarkable book. Reading it definitely wasn't easy, but it was like (some) poetry -- you can't always put into concise sentences what the poet meant, but you do understand, somewhere inside. And the prose is beautiful. "So spake Scrotes, and having spoke he smole a smile and home to raven regions lonely stole." Sigh. dcorvus
  2. God Damn It I. No one says it anymore, no one With all the necessary zest? Like GOD DAMN IT, all three at once, All three to grab then punch then fuck The living daylights out of air, Or sunlight, or passing cars, or this Thing called life I need someone to say it, To me or let me hear it Because I can?t say it, I can?t. It?s Only damn it for me, only damn it II. To the mirror, to these features I know So fucking well. I want to yell, scream at it, Cry and claw the smoothness With my fingernails, he won?t even flinch. Bet he won?t be there if I punch him Crack that glass? Le
  3. OUROBOROS QUESTION dcorvus God is dead ? Nietzsche Nietzsche is dead ? God And so the question runs around its head, To slink down years and prowl from mind to mind. What rage to thinkers young and old you fed And bade them peel the everlasting rind! Now fallen unto me; I saw you from Afar. No tragic thinker will I be, Who sought the wise but played in end the dumb When tangled in your mired philosophy. It had been said by Socrates that there Must be an absolute, and therefore you Must hence exist to guide with hemlock fare The soul down paths both beautiful and true; And our R
  4. Hey, I was browsing the forums and I thought that there definitely wasn't enough activity going on here. So I decided to toss in a few topics that I thought would be interesting; feel free, forum masters, to split this into different threads if the need arises. 1. Pet Peeves. This is a fun one. What makes you slam the 'back' key on your keyboard as fast as you can? What ruins a story in the space of a phrase? Basically, what do you really hate to see in writing? Is it terrible grammar? Cliches? Cheesy names? 2. The Power of the Heart. It is a truth universally acknowledged that we love roma
  5. Aww, this is nice. It's not obscurely profound or deeply symbolic, but it's more than enjoyable; and the use of repetition is effective and powerful. But I think that the middle stanza is a bit extraneous; in conjunction with the last stanza, it sort of sounds like you're abandoning your parents for your partner. Nice work, dcorvus
  6. Last Wish Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me. Winter creeps through walls and floors And sends it frosty fingers over windows, over skin; It hardens earth where flowers bloomed, And freezes bark of trees That once were wreathed in leafy boughs And murmured to the rhythm of my heart. Before the snows had touched my soul, I lived in green Arcadia, Where future sprawled as avenues Of sated days and half-mad nights. The course of true love never did run smooth, But in chase and destination was promised Our warm, eternal summer. Fall could be shuttered by these l
  7. This is my response to Yeats's "Leda and the Swan." Less a response, really, and more of a... er... imitation, I suppose. But those of you into Greek mythology will know that Zeus, as a swan, managed to copulate with Leda, the queen of Sparta; the resulting brood included Clytemnestra and Helen of Troy. You might also know about the story of Ganymede and Zeus, wherein Zeus became infatuated with a beautiful Trojan boy, swooped down as an eagle, and brought him up as the cup-bearer of the gods. It's a manifestation of "the unspeakable vice of the Greeks." This is really only an idea I put rathe
  8. Wow, it looks really awesome. The graphics are really cool, the bios look excellent, and it's easy to get around. I have only one nitpick: that on the 'poems' page, the graphic seems to be attributing that bit of 'Stolen Child' to Nicholas Nurse, when it should be to W.B. Yeats. *cough* Is one a hypocrite for needling others' mistakes while totally not noticing one's own? dcorvus
  9. dcorvus


    The tepid moon is frozen where it hangs Behind the still and musty curtain. The headless worm of nightmares yawns its fangs And curls itself in sleep uncertain. The restless soul with restless dreams make fight And wearies wars in clouded sleep. What haunts the sleeper must with muffled sight In troubled slumber nightly creep. ----- All things begin somewhere, and I think this poem began with not being able to fall asleep. 'tis very frustrating. Then I had the vision of a sleeper, tossing and turning and sweaty in his bed, with moonlight falling on him, almost coiling around him like
  10. I. While strolling in the neighborhood, I see my neighbors going by, some with dogs and some with cats and some with faces smiling and I see some people walking with their heads here there and nodding as their words come flowing like an empty wind that catches leaves and brings them to my face, and I am smiling over hollow flames while someone screams and breaks the walls but they?re really singing to themselves, and in a corner she knits a noose he cleans his father?s gun, but maybe it?s just me seeing things that don?t exist and yes of course I need new contacts, I do agree wi
  11. Hey, I like this. When I read it the first time, I didn't quite know where the poem was heading until the last stanza, which was very well done because it really does capture the situation. And on second reading, things get more cleared up, and the poem feels stronger. My interpretation is that the speaker is encouraging us to continue fighting, but that, in the end, the fight isn't for the fight, or for the ring -- it's for the right to simply "hold his hand." I also like your flow and rhythmn, how you try to keep it structured. Good job! dcorvus
  12. SAND CASTLE The answers beg the question; The question finds no respite. Why are we here? What purpose do we serve? We: the great charade, the marchers in a grand parade. Sometimes we find a grain of truth And base a castle on the sand; We build it up, stone by stone, And hoist the banners to flutter in the wind: Here’s the parapets of hearts, The turrets of the jacks; The queens lounge in wave-washed chapels by The keep of suicide kings. But when the spilling currents Flood the moat and break the wall, We see at heart a single grain of crumbled sand— We know our world is dead
  13. Hey Graeme, From what I've read, you just switch back. For example: Michael said, "And then he said, 'John told me, "Don't go there!"'" I (think) I'm basing off of Tolkien; I seem to remember a similar situation came up in Gandalf's long narrative, and what Tolkien did was to switch from single to double back to single quotes. (Of course, he being British, started with single quotes.) Hope that helps, dcorvus
  14. I read this story all in one gulp and found it very enjoyable. I certainly would *not* want to be in such a school, though... It seems filled with really rich kids who would grate on my sensibilities; and the class and group divisions are lethally sharp. Ethan is shaping up to be a very likable character, and the complexities of all the romances/lusts/intrigues are interesting, to say the least. Update soon! dcorvus
  15. I, too, would like to add my thanks. And -- this may sound rather corny -- but in my opinion this site is the sort of thing that we really need, that transcends itself. There are many folks out there like us with stories to tell, and many times it's difficult to find an appreciative forum and/or audience. This site allows for connection and expression; it helps alleviate two of the most terrible things to feel: loneliness and repression. There will be times, I'm sure, when sailing becomes rough, but what doesn't break us will make us stronger. Okay. I'll shut up now. In any case, thanks! If t
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