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Post by shinigami345 on Jun 1, 2010 21:58:40 GMT -5
A certian uncertianty filled my heart just as my world began to fall apart. Peradventure, I go back to the start then I would lose my culinary art.
My culinary art was amazing then you took it away like a fire blazing. You were just envious of my glazing you started my iron curtain rising.
My iron curtian was like a tin wall you tore through it at the masquerade ball. I wore a mask ,and you wore a sage shawl we got home ,and --for me-- you bore it all.
After that night, I still look back; betwixt us you're my beautiful damsel in distress.
What do you guys think of it? It's like a sonnet or something. Written entirely in Iambic Pentameter(what Shakespeare used).
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earth
Moon
the awesome
Posts: 245
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Post by earth on Jun 1, 2010 22:02:30 GMT -5
thats good i can rhyme and make poems and raps but iambic pentameter is freakin hard for me. once i get started i can continue. but its hard to start. good job!... though its kinda random... haha
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Post by shinigami345 on Jun 1, 2010 22:11:36 GMT -5
www.rhymezone.com/?loc=bar That's where I get my poetry steroids. I tried to make it not random, but for the most part it seemed to transition well. Culinary art ends the first quatraine and begins the second that type of thing.
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Post by mashuga31 on Jun 2, 2010 21:54:28 GMT -5
I like it *Ultra thumbs up in RL*
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Post by shinigami345 on Jun 4, 2010 1:48:06 GMT -5
As the radiant moon turns sanguine, I masticate my tangerine, and still I imput data into my old Von Neumann machine. The crimson rain began; it was upon me like a submarine seemingly out of nowhere it transformed into a deep sanguine. As I finished, almost diminished; my tangerine and typing there came a bombardment at my bedroom door. Thus, I walked gently swiping towards my bedroom door. Thither I found a flaming moltres, piping. The moltres came and ate; we talked about the external hyping. The moltres spread its wings and the sanguine colors left us in peace, I mounted the moltres and we flew to the capital of greece. Moltes was confiscated by the Royal Greek Mounted Police. It rose up and smote the royal police and we left for the Suisse. We arrived in Suisse and lamented for the smitten police, Moltres said, "sorry"; we gained politcal assylum in Suisse. Sorry about the pokemon, I was dared I couldn't incorporate pokemon into an Iambic Octameter poem and I proved them wrong
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Post by bathanie on Jun 6, 2010 13:47:25 GMT -5
Not bad.. not bad at all. (:
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Post by Kevak on Jun 17, 2010 1:45:45 GMT -5
there is a poetry thread already if you could go post there?
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Post by MusicIsMyLife4Eva89 on Jun 17, 2010 11:57:47 GMT -5
I loved it! I can't write poetry worth crap, so props to you!
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