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Author Topic: Grim Noire's Writing  (Read 7135 times)

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January 02, 2017, 05:35:55 AM
Reply #100
This is so great.

I honestly don't know what else to say about it. I just love it so much. It's confusing and weird and surreal and perfect and it makes me want to learn all about everything I didn't understand in it.

I'm glad you enjoy it. The most fufilling thing for me as a writer is when people get interested in my ideas. In my opinion, questions are the highest form of praise, as they represent intrinsic value which people hold for a specific work.

Concerning this poem, each line is a card from a tarot-inspired deck of my creation. Like tarot there are high and low arcana or trumps and suits. In my deck, the high arcana are the 16 names listed. Each represents a role or archetype which has mythic significance. The Old Man for instance will manipulate others as though they are pieces on a game board, and The Machine will bring power and influence at the behest of a wicked ruler, in this situation a, "Red Queen" a queen bathed in blood. The deck itself is called a deck of position or just a position, as it lays out how each of the high arcana, which I call greater mysteries, interact with one another and shape the fate of the universe. In other words, they show what the position of the universe is.

The greater mysteries are only half of the position however. The other component is the suits or courts as I call them. There are five: Nights, Knives, Plates, Masks, Crowns. Each court has ten cards: 2-8, Jack, Knight, Lord.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

January 03, 2017, 01:04:54 AM
Reply #101
I'm glad you enjoy it. The most fufilling thing for me as a writer is when people get interested in my ideas. In my opinion, questions are the highest form of praise, as they represent intrinsic value which people hold for a specific work.

Concerning this poem, each line is a card from a tarot-inspired deck of my creation. Like tarot there are high and low arcana or trumps and suits. In my deck, the high arcana are the 16 names listed. Each represents a role or archetype which has mythic significance. The Old Man for instance will manipulate others as though they are pieces on a game board, and The Machine will bring power and influence at the behest of a wicked ruler, in this situation a, "Red Queen" a queen bathed in blood. The deck itself is called a deck of position or just a position, as it lays out how each of the high arcana, which I call greater mysteries, interact with one another and shape the fate of the universe. In other words, they show what the position of the universe is.

The greater mysteries are only half of the position however. The other component is the suits or courts as I call them. There are five: Nights, Knives, Plates, Masks, Crowns. Each court has ten cards: 2-8, Jack, Knight, Lord.
:D
L̻I̙̫̗͇̲̞̹F̥̭̰͇̖̟͈E̹̼̳͕ ͇H͓̼͇͖͎͓A̟͖S͎ A̞̖ ͇͍M̦͇̙͓̦E̞̳͔̱̼̩Ḷ̻̯O͕Ḏ̮̱̲͉̠̭Y

January 19, 2017, 09:25:37 PM
Reply #102
A prose poem about things:

The greatest feeling in the world is:
When it's too loud you can turn it down.
When it's too cold you can turn it up.
When it's too bright you can turn it off.
When it's too dark you can turn it on.
When it's too hard you make it easier.
When it's not going your way you can make it.
When you want control its yours.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

January 21, 2017, 07:12:19 PM
Reply #103
I do like it when a writer can explain what they're talking about without directly saying what they're talking about.  Takes talent of subtly to that.  Good work.

You wouldn't happen to have some Lovecraft-inspired stuff, would ya?

January 21, 2017, 08:27:34 PM
Reply #104
I do like it when a writer can explain what they're talking about without directly saying what they're talking about.  Takes talent of subtly to that.  Good work.

You wouldn't happen to have some Lovecraft-inspired stuff, would ya?

The Far Places is partly inspired by him, yes.

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

January 29, 2017, 06:23:40 PM
Reply #105
The Far Places is partly inspired by him, yes.

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i l o v e i t
L̻I̙̫̗͇̲̞̹F̥̭̰͇̖̟͈E̹̼̳͕ ͇H͓̼͇͖͎͓A̟͖S͎ A̞̖ ͇͍M̦͇̙͓̦E̞̳͔̱̼̩Ḷ̻̯O͕Ḏ̮̱̲͉̠̭Y

January 30, 2017, 12:08:41 AM
Reply #106
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

March 29, 2017, 06:16:32 PM
Reply #107
My mom was going to a synagogue sisterhood meeting and called me, asking if I'd written any poems about Spring. I told her I didn't have any, so she asked me if I'd write one that she could read at the meeting, so I wrote a poem about Spring. Here it is:

"Persephonopsis"

Still the morning soon the sun,
Atop the sky of heaven’s dome,
The aphids weaving ‘tween the grass,
Looming blades unsheathed from loam.

Calid cantatas buzzing, sing,
Cicadas midst their oaken shrouds,
As Blackbirds glide like flotsam on,
The unseen rivers ‘neath the clouds.

Heralds soft, the rains of March,
The hushed voice of Persephone,
Polaris bound from Crux they sail,
Messina eagles o’er the sea.

So come what will: the shining hours,
The noonday storm the midnight pall,
The sun’s tide waxing, glory!
Blazing glorious upon us all.
« Last Edit: April 18, 2017, 06:42:19 AM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 18, 2017, 04:51:38 PM
Reply #108
Dunno why I haven't posted this yet. I wrote it last December.

Ruros' Love Letter to Himself:

Oh, the comedy.
As I walk the earth and you the sky.
If only instead we could swim the sea.
I would give my arms to hear a single of your thoughts.
And my legs to be the mind thinking them.
Do you see me watching you watch me?
Or do I stare into yet another mirror?
And there is no you at all.

I fell sick and stared into a seed pod.
And felt the murderous weight of the universe on my back.
But such a fever reminds me.
That should one of my breaths stir a single strand of your hair,
It would be a kiss deeper than any root.
For then I could fall drunk off this dizzy sphere.
I would sigh in joyous apathy.
While the cold Unknown tore me to minutes.

To be nothing.
To be nothing.
To be nothing.
To be nothing.
To be singular.
To be nothing.
To be nothing.
To be nothing.

That I could streak across the ceiling.
That you could blaze upon the stage.
That the tide could wash us to silence.
Let their hearts fall.
Let their bodies break.
Let their eyes distort.
All of the world for you.
That we could cease.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

April 19, 2017, 10:35:30 AM
Reply #109
My mom was going to a synagogue sisterhood meeting and called me, asking if I'd written any poems about Spring. I told her I didn't have any, so she asked me if I'd write one that she could read at the meeting, so I wrote a poem about Spring. Here it is:

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

That is beautiful! So lovely. Did they like it at the meeting?
To love another person is to see the face of God


April 19, 2017, 12:23:41 PM
Reply #110
That is beautiful! So lovely. Did they like it at the meeting?

They did. She told me that they read it three times and couldn't believe it only took around an hour to write. That made me feel good about myself for a few minutes. More importantly it was the first time I wrote a poem after being told to do so as opposed to waiting for inspiration to strike. It proves that I can find my own inspiration without needing it to randomly occur. With enough motivation I may be able to finish a book of poems sooner than I thought possible.

Thank you for reading my poem too. As always I am grateful that you take the time to read and comment on my work.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

June 09, 2017, 08:41:31 AM
Reply #111
Whoo! Finished another poem this morning!

The House of R:

Along the farthest shore beneath a sun forever setting,
A land of gods who can't remember what they keep forgetting,
Amidst the tide a door will stand, inviting and ajar,
Beyond the threshold secrets wait inside the House of R.

Secrets 'neath the flesh, etched into the world's bones,
Which take from men their sanity and rob kings of their thrones,
What place is there for those whose minds are left a twisting scar?
In gibbering hordes they come to dwell within the House of R.

The walls between this world and that of myth are ever thinning,
The end of time is hard to tell apart from the beginning,
And when a final ember flickers from the northern star,
Another candle lights the hallways of the House of R.

To those for whom reality is bland and unredeeming,
To dreams no longer needing dreamers to continue dreaming.
The hours fall like dying leaves towards a time not far,
When judgement calls the world to stand before the House of R.

The lying gods, their broken oaths will know the fate of liars,
The laws of man will meet the fickle mercy of the fires,
A mad phantasmagoria, blazing brilliant and bizarre,
A masquerade loosed on the world from within the House of R.

But after chaos ushers in its final storming gust,
And Creation goes up in cloud of thick elegiac dust,
A new world sleeps amnesiac midst the falling ash and char,
And waiting too madness anew sleeps in the House of R.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

June 18, 2017, 04:54:02 PM
Reply #112
I'm over a week late but i love it as always!!!! <3
L̻I̙̫̗͇̲̞̹F̥̭̰͇̖̟͈E̹̼̳͕ ͇H͓̼͇͖͎͓A̟͖S͎ A̞̖ ͇͍M̦͇̙͓̦E̞̳͔̱̼̩Ḷ̻̯O͕Ḏ̮̱̲͉̠̭Y

June 18, 2017, 06:57:53 PM
Reply #113
I'm over a week late but i love it as always!!!! <3

Yay! I'm glad you like it. I'm pretty proud of this one.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

August 16, 2017, 04:47:33 PM
Reply #114
Holy shit guys! I accidentally found a poem I'd written five years ago which I hadn't saved anywhere and thought was lost forever.

Wasted Sky Theorem, Act II Scene IV "The Cardsman's Song

I tell you Kings and honored ones,
There soon will come a day,
When all your gold and splend'rous things will swiftly slip away.

Your shining baubles,
Petty squabbles,
Totters wobbles,
'Gainst your fobbles,
Though you yell, roar, scream, shriek, bawl and bray.

And who'll be left to tell your tales?
And who will sing your gallant songs?
Of grander deeds and foreign lands with yonder kings you'd slay?

For many years from now oh Lords,
Far past your curtain call,
They'll speak of ages silent,
And not speak of you at all.
« Last Edit: August 21, 2017, 02:05:07 PM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

August 16, 2017, 09:43:02 PM
Reply #115
Holy shit guys! I accidentally found a poem I'd written five years ago which I hadn't saved anywhere and thought was lost forever.

Wasted Sky Theorem, Act II Scene IV "The Cardsman's Song

I tell you Kings and honored ones,
There soon will come a day,
When all your gold and splend'rous things will swiftly slip away.

Your shining baubles,
Petty squabbles,
Totters wobbles
'Gainst your fobbles,
Though you yell, roar, scream, shriek, bawl and bray.

And who'll be left to tell your tales?
And who will sing your gallant songs?
Of grander deeds and foreign lands with yonder kings you'd slay?

For many years from now oh Lords,
Far past your curtain call,
They'll speak of ages silent,
And not speak of you at all.
I really like this one!
Dumb question: was this part of a play you were working on?
Avatar pic provided by bumbrwby12 on twitter.
Sign Image provided by Andrew's Miitopia playthrough.

August 17, 2017, 12:34:34 PM
Reply #116
I really like this one!
Dumb question: was this part of a play you were working on?

I wasn't working on it. The play mentioned is something that fictionally exists inside that world. This poem was the introduction to a story I started in 2012 and had plans to keep working on, but the site I was writing it on shut down, and I didn't have it saved anywhere else. I'm still bummed about it.
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

August 21, 2017, 01:41:28 PM
Reply #117
Holy shit guys! I accidentally found a poem I'd written five years ago which I hadn't saved anywhere and thought was lost forever.

Wasted Sky Theorem, Act II Scene IV "The Cardsman's Song

I tell you Kings and honored ones,
There soon will come a day,
When all your gold and splend'rous things will swiftly slip away.

Your shining baubles,
Petty squabbles,
Totters wobbles
'Gainst your fobbles,
Though you yell, roar, scream, shriek, bawl and bray.

And who'll be left to tell your tales?
And who will sing your gallant songs?
Of grander deeds and foreign lands with yonder kings you'd slay?

For many years from now oh Lords,
Far past your curtain call,
They'll speak of ages silent,
And not speak of you at all.

This reminds me of Shelley's Ozymandias!!
L̻I̙̫̗͇̲̞̹F̥̭̰͇̖̟͈E̹̼̳͕ ͇H͓̼͇͖͎͓A̟͖S͎ A̞̖ ͇͍M̦͇̙͓̦E̞̳͔̱̼̩Ḷ̻̯O͕Ḏ̮̱̲͉̠̭Y

August 21, 2017, 02:03:26 PM
Reply #118
This reminds me of Shelley's Ozymandias!!

Ah! Yes, I can see that! The theme is definitely the same. That's one of my favorite poems too.
You get an A+
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

September 28, 2017, 01:45:18 PM
Reply #119
Chapter 1: The Old Man and the Clock part 1:

There once was an old man who built a clock.
It had four hands which spun around it's hub,
And the clock's hub spun around the center.
He'd wind it up, look into the center,
And then the center would look back at him.
The clock wouldn't tell him what the time was;
Instead, the time would tell him what he was.

he old man smile as he watched the four little hands each with its own little arm and luminous little orb whirl about to the sound of so many little gears. It sounded like a symphony of ticks and tocks with just a few metallic tinks that echoed through the wooden box like a small chorus of miniature bells. Oh, what a sight the inside of that box must have been! There the steel mainspring within its brass barrel, the gear train slowly feeding energy over multitudes of cogwheels. There were so many, that if one were to look away and then back it would seem as though another had just been added. After all, while there were only four hands, each needed to be told where to go, how fast to move, and at times, why such movement was even necessary in the first place.

One wheel for the minutes, another for the seconds, two for the hours, three for the days that were and thirty-three for the days gone by. The old man had yet to count the number for the days yet to come and the days that could have been. Ah, but there to one side spun the balance wheel! One swing to the right and back to the left, oscillating with ceaselessly accurate purpose while the hairspring twisted and released, expanding and contracting like the beating of a heart.

Then to one side labored the escapement: back and forth, driven by an impulse pin near the center of the balance wheel shaft and pushing a dual-pronged forked lever which locked and released the escape wheel in perfect rhythm. Locking, the energy of the mainspring was held in check; releasing, some of the spring's tension - just a bit of it - from the teeth of the barrel, through the gear train of so many cogwheels was allowed to escape. In escaping, the balance wheel turned anti-clockwise, and that bit of energy was gone - clockwise and the hairspring contracted where a moment earlier it had impelled the forked lever.

"Let me escape," said the energy in the mainspring.

"Tick," replied the escapement.
« Last Edit: September 28, 2017, 04:24:07 PM by Grim Noire »
See the bunny bees and puffs of steam from singing kettles in the trees. Bread and butterflies with fork and knives who like to make a meal of time.
Life is clockwork quick - lightning slow. Faster on your toes, so eat your sugared dream and taste the day before it runs away.
Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.