Post by Not-Garr on Sept 7, 2005 12:06:55 GMT -5
I seriously don't usually like poetry at all, but I've been in sort of a creative flow lately, so bear with me... The first one could be a sort of ballad, I suppose, the second one is about my morning, it may be a bit disgusting, but it's not horrible.
----
The Fox and The Dragon
The fox was happy, always making jokes.
The dragon was sorrowful, dwelling on his past.
The fox worked to uplift his friends.
The dragon unwittingly dragged them down.
The fox could be annoying.
The dragon was annoyed.
The fox hugged the dragon.
The dragon sighed.
The fox made fun of himself for his friend's benefit.
The dragon made fun of others for his own benefit.
The fox and the dragon never got along well.
The dragon yelled at the fox, and injured him.
The fox killed the dragon.
The dragon died, and was happy.
The fox lives, and was happy.
And all was well, the boy had learned a lesson.
He was never meant to be a dragon.
---
Wednesday's Harpies
I open my eyes, free at last from the foul harpies who refuse me more than a few minutes at a time with the sleeping maiden of the night.
Bile in the back of my throat, I spit, but the foul venom remains.
I stumble to the bathroom, and begin to pray to the spirit of the porcelain throne, it does not listen.
More than bile now, my throat is tingling with the hellfire of my stomach, my mouth is watering.
I spit.
The spring of the porcelain god turns red, and I begin to heave.
Those foul harpies!
I never do finish, and that taste remains, I look over at the glowing green signboard, dictating my schedule to me.
@#$%!
I lay back in bed, ears singed by my own foul uttering, throat burning with the harpies of the pit.
Closing my eyes, I attempt to kiss the beautiful maiden once again, and driff off, free of the harpies for now.
I never did notice, that the sand pit was soiled, and I never journeyed, this day, to the big stone beast of education.
----
The Fox and The Dragon
The fox was happy, always making jokes.
The dragon was sorrowful, dwelling on his past.
The fox worked to uplift his friends.
The dragon unwittingly dragged them down.
The fox could be annoying.
The dragon was annoyed.
The fox hugged the dragon.
The dragon sighed.
The fox made fun of himself for his friend's benefit.
The dragon made fun of others for his own benefit.
The fox and the dragon never got along well.
The dragon yelled at the fox, and injured him.
The fox killed the dragon.
The dragon died, and was happy.
The fox lives, and was happy.
And all was well, the boy had learned a lesson.
He was never meant to be a dragon.
---
Wednesday's Harpies
I open my eyes, free at last from the foul harpies who refuse me more than a few minutes at a time with the sleeping maiden of the night.
Bile in the back of my throat, I spit, but the foul venom remains.
I stumble to the bathroom, and begin to pray to the spirit of the porcelain throne, it does not listen.
More than bile now, my throat is tingling with the hellfire of my stomach, my mouth is watering.
I spit.
The spring of the porcelain god turns red, and I begin to heave.
Those foul harpies!
I never do finish, and that taste remains, I look over at the glowing green signboard, dictating my schedule to me.
@#$%!
I lay back in bed, ears singed by my own foul uttering, throat burning with the harpies of the pit.
Closing my eyes, I attempt to kiss the beautiful maiden once again, and driff off, free of the harpies for now.
I never did notice, that the sand pit was soiled, and I never journeyed, this day, to the big stone beast of education.
