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Sweetdang

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Posts posted by Sweetdang

  1. The 'link' was the first thing I noticed! :D Very cool!

     

     

     

    @ JB - you're only in grade 8?! :O I'm extra impressed! There's no way I could have written poems like that at that age haha.

     

     

    I love everyone's poems! ^_^

    I am now going to be a genius and ask what grade 8 is.

     

    13-14?

    That's what wikipedia tells me. :D

    Hi five bruh.

  2. Maybe the Swan Princess? I'm going to keep thinking about this today. Now you've my brain working. :-)

     

    Edit: Okay just read your last post. I don't think The Swan Princess would work for that. lol

    no any works I promise!

    Pretty or not. :P

     

    Thank guys! *goes off and does research*

  3. Naw, it's a production that we're doing, which is casting a magical bird as the main characters. Thought I'd see what could research to understand the role better!

     

    Even a short bit that has birds, or flying thing that are partially human? *hopeful face*

    I know in Van Helsing there were pretty vampire bride things that turned into creepy little flying creatures. That counts, too! I'll attach the images in a spoiler below, please don't click if you're easily freaked out!

     

     

    Person form:

    imgvan%20helsing3.jpg

     

    Creepy little flying form:

    Brides-van-helsing-2617594-500-333.jpg

     

  4. Hey guys!

    I was wondering if any of you knew any movies that featured people as birds! Movies, musicals, dances, anything!

    Besides "Swan lake" and "black swan", any ideas?

    Thanks!

  5. Your poems flows so beautifully...I'm amazed. I like how you guys all have different styles, yet they all evoke a lot of emotion. I have a question, though. Do you guys use a specific structure or style, or do you write it purely from inspiration without much planning?

     

    I write a bit of poetry, but I don't have much skill in it yet, so I think I will wait on posting it.

    I have terrible poetry skills WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. :D

     

    I write without planning, but honestly, really good poems can't just "flow from inspiration", unless your inspiration is previously coupled with lots of experience in iambic and structure. I don't like planning though, so that's why they're terrible. :P At most, I write it, then go back a few week later and see how I can better the flow and/or structure.

     

    I spend time on mine, but I don't really mind either. :D

     

    JB I LIEK YOUR STYLE (returning favour of very failed crit hahaha)

     

    lalalala

    lalalala

    elmos werldd

     

     

    SUMMER

    By Sweetdang

     

    Unfold your ears and listen

    Open your eyes and see

    The patter of feet; the flutter of wings

    Her dance, yet you're blinded to she.

     

    She sends you grassy kisses

    Roses by midnight blue

    The grace from the tips of her leafy toes

    Winter's Love frost to woo.

     

    Lines of joy and sorrow

    Etched on the willow tree

    Glittering sparkles upon rippled shell

    Displayed for all to see.

     

    A cluster of Heather's petals

    A pledge of her life with you

    Sunshine piercing Morning's mist

    The baby ducklings, too.

     

    Drooping lids of a tired cat

    Dandelions floating away

    On the wind into the clouds

    On a lazy summer's day.

  6. KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

    By Sweetdang

     

    Footsteps knock on the worn-out path

    The road more-traveled

    Mistakes more made

    A sliver of sin follows

    Flickering its forked tongue.

     

    It slithers along the long grass bordering the route

    And as it passes

    The long, brown, dead stalks stand petrified

    And then crumble to dust

    Touched with poison.

     

    It hangs, also

    On the ankles of the man

    Shadowing, shadowing,

    In literal sense

    And mimicking movement,

    Learning from the damned.

     

     

    Sometimes it moves out,

    As if to strike at the heel with its poisoned fangs

    But then it retreats

    Because the man will end up in the fire

    With or without its help.

    Why waste the effort?

     

    The lines across the page are going nowhere

    Merely a copy of the story of pierced hands

    Forever etched on the bloodied back

    With skin torn and hanging in shreds

    Throwing a message at the world.

     

    But no one listens.

     

    Footsteps still travel down the road

    That ends in a consumption of fire

    Step by step

    Inch by inch

    Dragging against the road

    And knocking the path

    That is the Door.

     

    The sounds echos through Hell.

  7. *impressed whistle*

     

    That was pretty awesome.

     

    Forget that, it was amazing! I really could actually "see" it, the only line that was a little odd to me was the one bout his eyes. Cool line, but not an accurate image conjured in my head! :P

     

    But fantastic. Simply fantastic.

  8. Hello I liked that! And the simply-sad kind of shadow it cast, plus the fact it went back in a full circle. Very nice. :) I do take quibbles with the fact that it's a rhyming poem, though, because if it rhymes - it ALLLLLL Rhymes. as such I take up problem with this line: "Once we had commenced dating", if you would fit a "dated" in there if would flow more nicely. Also, the rhyming went a little off at times, and I wouldn't be so particular about this (because I'm not very skilled at utilizing the iambic pentameter myself)

    if it didn't rhyme. Again, I just have a thing with rhymes - if you want them, then they better be PURRRRFECT.

     

    Sorry haha just me. :-)

     

    But that's all the issue i take up with that, other than that it was liked a story being played out! Good job! :D

     

    Here's one that's rather dark:

     

    Fine

    by Sweetdang

     

     

    You came to me

    You knocked me down

    Shoved my face

    Straight to the ground.

    I stood up

    Brushed myself off

    I said

    "Fine."

    I came to you

    Stabbed you in the heart

    Left you in a pool

    Of your own blood

    You couldn't say

    Anything

    At all.

     

    hurhurhur don't ask.

    Okay yes both of what I've posted so far aren't "proper" attempts at writing, so when I post one, would you prefer a dark one or happy one? Mine are mostly dark.

  9. Wow you poet person.

    I think i wrote one on something like that once. Wait lemme lemme find it -

    Found it. It's a short, very minimalist one. Written a year or two ago. Kudos to you if you link up the beginning and that end!

     

    Cycle

    Boxing day

    Marks my eighth birthday

    Sun’s not yet lit

    I wake up

    And trudge across the wooden floor planks

    Widely spread

    So I can see yellow grass

    Three feet beneath

    My toes.

    Skin–thin

    Loin cloth

    Tied firmly in place,

    Back to the site

    To repeat the cycle

    Routine

    And work

    Day after day

    Just like I did

    Yesterday.

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