ACCUSATIONS at the general Poetic Masses hereabouts, TorF?

You do not Duel because...

you despise Mahayr.	4.2%	[ 1 ]
you despise someone else in here.	12.5%	[ 3 ]
you are, as accused, CHICKEN!	8.3%	[ 2 ]
it is beneath you, you are just that good. BUT too chicken to prove it.	0.0%	[ 0 ]
you have too much on your plate for lowly duels, and are CHICKEN!	4.2%	[ 1 ]
there is not enough to be gained, you are greedy.	25.0%	[ 6 ]
Other... post your own answer.	45.8%	[ 11 ]
Total Votes:			[ 24 ]

[Zero is an Integer]

caffine

Zero whats the background thing you have on?

Gimpi. It's one of the most versatile items I've ever payed for. Hell, if I could afford it, I'd have ten of these things. I mean, you should really see some of the stuff that it does. I cannot sing it's praise enough.

[Vespertine]

Andrew 01.01.09 - 02.04.09 Long Nights, Love Songs, and Talks of Ocean Shores

Body between me and the window, moon-
fleshed he knows how to eclipse
the morning thoughts, turn dark lines
into dark corners; make my fingers ache to trace
the craters of his limbs, hollows of his face.
He speaks and the gravity moves the sea-

water bubbling up my spine. I can't see
the frosted cars or still lingering moon
past the halo of morning ringing his face.
He leaves whispered pearls at the corners of my lips,
smiles as his body is burned into eyes, a trace
silhouette flickering along my line

of sight. My body screaming "Touch me, read the lines
of my hands, find my creased future, tell me what you see."
He has the fingers of really decent saints trickle-tracing
my palm; pulse caught up in the mound of venus, heel of the moon.
His breath brushes the small hairs; still, this is an eclipse
and bodily he moves on. I remember his face

as a time of day; without him here, I can't find my bed, face
the window and wonder and whine, the telephone lines
cutting the sky into upper and lower lips.
His shadow sits behind my eyes; I'm hoping to see
that drowning blue mouth swallow the moon,
but moon knows it's course, the tip of a finger tracing

those trembling lips, the way he used to trace
my trembling hips. From my window I watch his face
sink beneath the trees as if they were legs, moon
shining under my sheets, between branches and the lines
of the street, fighting the flickering V and C
on the vacancy sign down the block, and the ellipse

of light from the last streetlamp. I lower my head, lips
on the chill glass, trying to see deeper into his shadow, trace
the lines of his body, or those he walked to leave, or left me with: see-
sawing cracks that shimmy up my spine and skirt my face;
trying to find an orbit, or a place to sleep, following the line
of the horizon lightening after claiming the moon.

Under my skin there is moonlight, and between my lips
saltwater mixes with lines of old poems, traces
of half-remembered songs, his body, and the face of the sea.

[Zero is an Integer]

Waiting for Isis.

[The Love Mutt]

@woop- does it have to be about fire in specific, or can fire be a major symbol in the poem (have someideas in mind already, yay!) Also, Why don't we leave the form open. I'll probably do free verse, but it doesn't matter to me. I may play around with form throughout edits.


@Mahayr- GOOD LUCK!!! -hugs-

@zero- Hey handsome!


I am in such a fantastic mood today- it's the sun, the warmth, my not being as sick (although I'm still stuffed up like crazy xp ), and just a good day in general.


^_^

[Eilianna]

The Fantasy of a Winter Rose.

Come cover me with your light-weighted confines
and unveil the beautiful silhouette of my inner vines.
Take in my perfume scent and adore it like I have
you for so many years, maturing from my canvas-solitude.
I feel vulnerable around you as I do underneath galaxy-dust
where my bramble of vines are pelted with a chilling breeze.

Savor my flawless vanity as I ignore this breeze.
I cherish fantasies of your breath taking seduction down my confines,
like a sight of shooting stars, for you and I, plummeting into silver dust.
There you are with your iron blade, lance-sharp, slicing vines
in the midst of privacy, away from your home in perennial-solitude.
I want your touch to trace my insides like botanical lines have

so that part of you may fill my lonesome void. You may have
me for your own delight. We can bask in a breeze
underneath stars that constellate our universe with moonlit-solitude.
My chest pounds throughout my confines
in Fibonacci sequence. Please nurture my vines
with your eyes the way you stare into cosmic-dust.

Travel deep into my core past microbe-dust
into my image-bound river of substance, and have
a glance at the source where my petals and vines
grow with penumbra-luster. Protect me from any breeze,
and let me wrap myself around your bodily confines
starting with my warm breasts, so our chests beat in resonating-solitude.

I want our tissues to seam together in silent solitude
the way our galaxy connects with pinhole-dust.
This is how I envision us, your fingertips around my silk-bound confines
tracing up and down my hips. As you have
your feel, my body is protected from another wintry breeze.
And in appreciation, I would caress beneath your body with my vines:

a lover's chill sent down your spine with nurturing vines.
I want you to myself underneath silvered skies in solitude.
Protect me from all danger in this garden of wintry breezes,
and I'll be your romantic rose, flawless, and free of winter dust.
Let me revel beneath your eyes, and let me have
a chance to linger on your outer confines.

I want to enter your inner universe in solitude
alone with you so I can be your whole world and have
you as my protector, so I may confine you forever with my bramble of vines.

[Zero is an Integer]

The Love Mutt

@zero- Hey handsome!

Howdy.

[jillian truant]

hey zero, I'm almost done. :]

[Good Bean]

I am SO sorry! i got nailed with three exams on the same day... crying

Its no as great as i would have liked but here ya go. (i also made it ryme so it would match theme with yours ^^)

Love Walks Away

Why do things turn out this way?
You just go while I stay?
You leave me behind here all alone;
While you move on, free to roam.
Bleeding heart in my hands I slowly die
My last breaths utter "Oh why oh why?"
You didn't give me a second glance;
Why did i ever take this chance?
To have my soul escape from me,
I wanted only for my heart to be free.
But you took it and tore it and left it here,
Without a regret, apology, or tear.
I die of a broken heart this day
I wonder why did things turn out this way?

[Zero is an Integer]

cafebrulot

hey zero, I'm almost done. :]

Okay.

Do what you do.

[Adimurti]

:gets judging:

[Mahayr]

I wonder what has happened to Sera... *frets*.

[Zero is an Integer]

Vespertine

Andrew 01.01.09 - 02.04.09 Long Nights, Love Songs, and Talks of Ocean Shores

Body between me and the window, moon-
fleshed he knows how to eclipse
the morning thoughts, turn dark lines
into dark corners; make my fingers ache to trace
the craters of his limbs, hollows of his face.
He speaks and the gravity moves the sea-

water bubbling up my spine. I can't see
the frosted cars or still lingering moon
past the halo of morning ringing his face.
He leaves whispered pearls at the corners of my lips,
smiles as his body is burned into eyes, a trace
silhouette flickering along my line

of sight. My body screaming "Touch me, read the lines
of my hands, find my creased future, tell me what you see."
He has the fingers of really decent saints trickle-tracing
my palm; pulse caught up in the mound of venus, heel of the moon.
His breath brushes the small hairs; still, this is an eclipse
and bodily he moves on. I remember his face

as a time of day; without him here, I can't find my bed, face
the window and wonder and whine, the telephone lines
cutting the sky into upper and lower lips.
His shadow sits behind my eyes; I'm hoping to see
that drowning blue mouth swallow the moon,
but moon knows it's course, the tip of a finger tracing

those trembling lips, the way he used to trace
my trembling hips. From my window I watch his face
sink beneath the trees as if they were legs, moon
shining under my sheets, between branches and the lines
of the street, fighting the flickering V and C
on the vacancy sign down the block, and the ellipse

of light from the last streetlamp. I lower my head, lips
on the chill glass, trying to see deeper into his shadow, trace
the lines of his body, or those he walked to leave, or left me with: see-
sawing cracks that shimmy up my spine and skirt my face;
trying to find an orbit, or a place to sleep, following the line
of the horizon lightening after claiming the moon.

Under my skin there is moonlight, and between my lips
saltwater mixes with lines of old poems, traces
of half-remembered songs, his body, and the face of the sea.

I love the way that you seem to always put the reader right there in the moment. It's almost as though you're in the room, reading the poem to us. While, admittedly, this isn't my kind of poetic marmalade, I'd have to say that it most certainly tasted better with my breakfast than plain toast would have. The only real things that i had problems with, were the line breaks in some areas, and the fact that you use the word Venus, but did not capitalize. (You know Venus is a proper noun, boy, but I'll overlook it.)

isis79

The Fantasy of a Winter Rose.

Come cover me with your light-weighted confines
and unveil the beautiful silhouette of my inner vines.
Take in my perfume scent and adore it like I have
you for so many years, maturing from my canvas-solitude.
I feel vulnerable around you as I do underneath galaxy-dust
where my bramble of vines are pelted with a chilling breeze.

Savor my flawless vanity as I ignore this breeze.
I cherish fantasies of your breath taking seduction down my confines,
like a sight of shooting stars, for you and I, plummeting into silver dust.
There you are with your iron blade, lance-sharp, slicing vines
in the midst of privacy, away from your home in perennial-solitude.
I want your touch to trace my insides like botanical lines have

so that part of you may fill my lonesome void. You may have
me for your own delight. We can bask in a breeze
underneath stars that constellate our universe with moonlit-solitude.
My chest pounds throughout my confines
in Fibonacci sequence. Please nurture my vines
with your eyes the way you stare into cosmic-dust.

Travel deep into my core past microbe-dust
into my image-bound river of substance, and have
a glance at the source where my petals and vines
grow with penumbra-luster. Protect me from any breeze,
and let me wrap myself around your bodily confines
starting with my warm breasts, so our chests beat in resonating-solitude.

I want our tissues to seam together in silent solitude
the way our galaxy connects with pinhole-dust.
This is how I envision us, your fingertips around my silk-bound confines
tracing up and down my hips. As you have
your feel, my body is protected from another wintry breeze.
And in appreciation, I would caress beneath your body with my vines:

a lover's chill sent down your spine with nurturing vines.
I want you to myself underneath silvered skies in solitude.
Protect me from all danger in this garden of wintry breezes,
and I'll be your romantic rose, flawless, and free of winter dust.
Let me revel beneath your eyes, and let me have
a chance to linger on your outer confines.

I want to enter your inner universe in solitude
alone with you so I can be your whole world and have
you as my protector, so I may confine you forever with my bramble of vines.

I can honestly say that this was better than I thought it would be. At least i don't have to worry about the fact that you're a mule anymore...Now I know that you are. it's just a matter of putting together who. This was beautifully written, and I really like the way that imagery kinda seeps in, permeating the mind like the eventual rot in an old wooden coffin. More than once, I feel like there was something sad in this: a bit of longing for something that cannot be had. I may be wrong, but that's what I took from it. On the other hand, I'm not sure that I like the use of the word "constellates," as it just sounds choppy and unnecessarily wordy. You also had some line-break issues.

This was a lot harder to judge than had originally anticipated. I wasn't expecting Isis to bring it to the table like that, so I will most certainly learn to stop underestimating people. Unfortunately, I had such a time with it, due to my friendship with Ves, that I was reduced to flipping a quarter to decide the fate of this duel. With a pure 50/50 chance of the outcome, it ended up being a "tails" for Ves. I would like to state, for the record, that I was amazed by the skill of Isis, and wouldn't mind judging for him/her in the future. Losing this duel was strictly due to a coin toss, with no bearing on the skill of Isis, whatsoever. In fact, I wish all of the duels that I have judged in my time could have been with the skill level that I witnessed here. Thank you both so much. Those were a blast to read.

In the duel between Isis and Vespertine, the fates have decided Vespertine to be the victor.

[Sin Apophis]

I read both of the poems as well, Zero, and I have to agree. They both did a wonderful job. They're both great poems.

[Zero is an Integer]

Sin Apophis

I read both of the poems as well, Zero, and I have to agree. They both did a wonderful job. They're both great poems.

Yeah. sweatdrop

I was like, "What do I do? What do I do?!?!" gonk

[Sin Apophis]

zero the last decepticon

Sin Apophis

I read both of the poems as well, Zero, and I have to agree. They both did a wonderful job. They're both great poems.

Yeah. sweatdrop

I was like, "What do I do? What do I do?!?!" gonk

Ahahaha. I wouldn't have flipped a coin, though. I favored Ves, though that was a hard decision even though I wasn't judging them. I loved them both.