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Topic ClosedScribes of Allembine Poetry Contest! Ends 5/18

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Lyken View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 15 May 2012 at 23:51
Originally posted by Turtie Turtie wrote:

I'll be entering quite soon -- and not to poopoo on anybody's creativity. . .but if you call it a 'series of haikus' perhaps they should BE haikus. . .

syllables ought be 5-7-5 right? 


Traditional Haiku is indeed of the 5-7-5 on (like syllables) form, but not all Haiku is.
For the record though, I've been counting too! =P


Edited by Lyken - 15 May 2012 at 23:54
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 03:24
please read the wikipedia page on Haikus and return with enlightened wisdom. 
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LordOfTheSwamp View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 10:15
As an Orc, poetry does not come naturally. So, to enter this contest, I had to embark upon a creative process which could be describes as, well, tortuous, maybe even painful. The process, however, yielded a poem which is uniquely reflective of the creative process without becomingintrospective, and begs the post-structuralist question of "who is the author anyway?"

[Spreads feet apart and thrusts hips forward in dramatic ac-tor stylee, and begins to orate...]

...

The once was a very big Orc
Who was stabbing an Elf with a fork,
Shouting “write a poem that rhymes
Cos I don't have time,
So do it, you wimp - ****ing talk!”

The Elf he replied as he cried,
“Violence will only yield lies,
But poems, true art,
Can't be some warlord's tart
To be won as a torturer's prize!”

The Orc, he would not be put off,
Shouting “Cut the excuses you toff,
You've been to pricey schools
Been taught by posh fools,
So write poems, or I'll pull your ***** off!”

But the Elf groaned as he expired,
“My head swims, I'm feeling so tired.
That spike in my rear
Brings unconsciousness near.
Do I now smell my own funeral pyre?”

The Orc he shouted with glee,
“Well, that'll do it for me!
Those lines there rhyme,
Most of the time.
Now, grilled Elven kebabs for my tea!”


"A boy is building sandcastles on a beach. You go and kick down his castle. You could say that it only reflects how you play with sandcastles. Others may think it reflects who you are." - Ander.
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Gilthoniel View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 12:44


The Pathfinder


A pathfinder arrives upon the sand
The ways ahead are many
Which way to take? Which road to tread?
Which path fulfills your destiny?

King Sigurd rules Illyria
Statues of his ancestors testify
A quest you have to find them all
To preserve his dynastic line

Much gold you may acquire by trade
A guild is yours to build
A master of merchants you may become
Or a pauper who squandered and failed

Beware the path of the warrior
Who lacks diplomacy veil
For the overmighty may falter
Where honeyed words prevail

A thief, A mage, A pirate king
All these paths and more
Await the pathfinder who stands alone
On Illyra's mystic shore




Edited by Gilthoniel - 16 May 2012 at 12:45
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 13:17
On being a Scrib

I focus on my quill, which expresses my knowledge to parchment. It is safe, here, in my hand.

I focus on my parchment, upon which I write my valuable research. It is safe, here, on my desk.

I focus at my desk, which so sturdily supports my works. It is safe, here, in my chamber.

I focus in my chamber, which so comfortingly affords me privacy. It is safe, here, in The Tower.

I focus within The Tower, its bound stonework gives me security. It is safe, here, in the City.

I focus in my City, its walls under siege from trebuchet fire. It still feels safe, here, in Elgea.

I focus on the Trebuchet, its piercing red eye sending me discomfort. My walls, here, feel thin.

The eye grows bigger, a threatening heat. I no longer f



Edited by Albatross - 16 May 2012 at 15:49
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latoo View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 13:52
i can hear your feather writing, i can feel your allembine search
hope im not going crazy since is my screen 
that shows your franciscan face, 
better hope to be dreaming
and join your quest

Latoo
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 14:33
Haiku entry #1)

Illyriad found,
Glorious races abound.
Hail, all Elgea!




For the Glory of Æsir!

~TKM
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Auraya View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 14:43
I wrote this a while ago so people in nCrow will have already read it:

I am but a humble crow,
Not the prettiest bird - I know.
I lack in strength, my song is not sweet
And yet a crow you're lucky to meet.
We value intellect, our wings fly true,
We uphold our values and respect other's view
And while we may not be the best,
We stand united in our nest. 

~Auraya 

Not the longest or deepest of poems but it's actually one of my personal favourites so I hope you enjoy :) 
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 20:29
heeeeee, lol
Illy Illy Illy
I bet it is silly
Been playing and in intense pain
My cavalry got lost n vain
Who sent them in?
Little commander Thin
The jungle ate them all
You dumbo, you definitely had to fall

Illy Illy Illy
You bet it is silly
Them changed the maps, them dug out walkie skeletors all around
Glowing stones and all that crap
My hard-earned gold went in to the trap
Them skeletors ate my army all
And then I had another fall
Yeah, them gave me commander points
I had pain in my joints
Sitting whole day playing Illy
Hunting them meatless morons
My Gf started calling me Stupid Silly
You bet i looked like one rilly
Eye bags and what not!
Ewww Illy! NOT AGAIN!

And then I got this alt
God promise, it's not my fault
Named him Crazy
As i felt like one
Ten cities! and i started with none...





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Auraya View Drop Down
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Direct Link To This Post Posted: 16 May 2012 at 23:05
Originally posted by LordOfTheSwamp LordOfTheSwamp wrote:

The once was a very big Orc
Who was stabbing an Elf with a fork,
Shouting “write a poem that rhymes
Cos I don't have time,
So do it, you wimp - ****ing talk!”

The Elf he replied as he cried,
“Violence will only yield lies,
But poems, true art,
Can't be some warlord's tart
To be won as a torturer's prize!”

The Orc, he would not be put off,
Shouting “Cut the excuses you toff,
You've been to pricey schools
Been taught by posh fools,
So write poems, or I'll pull your ***** off!”

But the Elf groaned as he expired,
“My head swims, I'm feeling so tired.
That spike in my rear
Brings unconsciousness near.
Do I now smell my own funeral pyre?”

The Orc he shouted with glee,
“Well, that'll do it for me!
Those lines there rhyme,
Most of the time.
Now, grilled Elven kebabs for my tea!”

Can I put this on my profile? xD (With full credits, of course) 
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