Poetry and Potpourri .... October 3 - 4 - 5, 2003

10-03-2003 | JustAmy, St.Louie1 and Mama_Bear

[Mama_Bear]

Awwwwww........that was such a sweet story. :-)

[Darksheare]

Well...
I usually write gothic dark stuff.
But I do try once in awhile to write other style or 'feel' stuff.

[Billie]

What a sweet bedtime story, and the illustrations are just wonderful!

[MEG33]

I really liked the one about the winter walk with magic light on the icicle.

[Billie]

Well... I usually write gothic dark stuff.

Of course.....hence your name. :)

[JustAmy]

Night
By Louis Drumond

We are free to fly at night, where there is no sun to melt the wings of Icarus, to blind our sensitive eyes and fill our souls with the brilliant glare that only those who have died, who are going to Heaven, should
Though we are vampires, I have nothing against the idea of Heaven, personally. However, I have never found much that is sublime in the loud din of light, even before receiving the Dark Gift which opened my eyes and heart to who I truly am.

I have seen too much darkness hidden by the light. The insincere smile might be missed if one admires her shade of lipstick instead. The fact that he doesn't meet your stare might be overlooked if his countenance is handsome, and the color of those turned-away eyes are like blue ocean. The ocean conceals both dolphins and sharks, native intelligence and teeth that bite -- bite with far greater ferocity than I've seen before -- including my kindred.

Some say shadows hide evil and light does not. I say I can gaze into the shadows as long as I want, not going blind, and what happens to exist there becomes clear to me, be it "good" or "evil".

Thus Evangeline and I fly amongst stars, sometimes being blessed with the silver perfection of the complete moon. Other times, a silver scythe hangs there, as if waiting to cut down the celestial crop of the heavens. It never does, however: the stars can see it, which they could not in the full glare of day, when the white light would blend with the heavenly weapon and conceal it until it is too late. . .

Remember, we always see the red eyes of the foe after dark.

[Darksheare]

That was my (failed) attempt to describe something I saw firstand while walking at night after getting caught 'out there' in an ice storm.
But it was such a haunting thing to see.

[JustAmy]

Hello, Mama_Bear!!

You have mail and I'll see you tonight. LOL

I know how busy you are, but I'm so glad you found time to stop by!

[JustAmy]

"I Remembered You" is beautiful, Darks.

Guess I shouldn't have posted the above poem to you .... I'll find another for you later.

[Darksheare]

Well, the name came about because I was in a chatroom at the time (early 1995) and I was writing somewhat in Shakespearean English.
Thankfully, for time sake, I don't write that way anymore.
(Takes forever to come up with the proper structure and wordage. Especially once you're out of practice!)

Some people in the chatroom called me 'Dark Shakespeare'.
I had been thinking of Shere Khan, and an archaic word for hair color.
It all eventually evolved down, in about 12 hours time, to "Darksheare".
That has been my moniker ever since.
*chuckle*

The gothic writing didn't start till LONG after that chatroom closed.
(jerryzentropy.com/5080..etc etc)
It was 'Rysher TV chat' AKA 'Highlander chat' where people who were fans (or not) of the TV series 'Highlander' could prattle and prance.

The goth writing got MUCH worse after personal tragedy three years ago.
And the stuff won't stop coming out of my head.
*ugh*

But I once in awhile come up with some nice stuff.

[Mama_Bear]

You have mail and I'll see you tonight. LOL

Thanks, I got it. See ya.

[Darksheare]

I love it!
Thanks!

You like "I Remembered You"?

Those three are somewhat the rarity at the moment.
The other stuff is dark in form.

[JustAmy]

Thanks for that story, Cal. Such a nice story it is.

[JustAmy]

Thanks for that story, Cal. Such a nice story it is.

[JustAmy]

It was such a nice story, I decided to tell you twice! LOL

[JustAmy]

The Pains of Sleep
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
It hath not been my use to pray
With moving lips or bended knees ;
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose,
In humble trust mine eye-lids close,
With reverential resignation,
No wish conceived, no thought exprest,
Only a sense of supplication ;
A sense o'er all my soul imprest
That I am weak, yet not unblest,
Since in me, round me, every where
Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.
But yester-night I prayed aloud
In anguish and in agony,
Up-starting from the fiendish crowd
Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me :
A lurid light, a trampling throng,
Sense of intolerable wrong,
And whom I scorned, those only strong !
Thirst of revenge, the powerless will
Still baffled, and yet burning still !
Desire with loathing strangely mixed
On wild or hateful objects fixed.
Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl !
And shame and terror over all !
Deeds to be hid which were not hid,
Which all confused I could not know
Whether I suffered, or I did :
For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe,
My own or others still the same
Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.

So two nights passed : the night's dismay
Saddened and stunned the coming day.
Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me
Distemper's worst calamity.
The third night, when my own loud scream
Had waked me from the fiendish dream,
O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
I wept as I had been a child ;
And having thus by tears subdued
My anguish to a milder mood,
Such punishments, I said, were due
To natures deepliest stained with sin,--
For aye entempesting anew
The unfathomable hell within,
The horror of their deeds to view,
To know and loathe, yet wish and do !
Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me ?
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed.

[Darksheare]

Hmmm...
Interesting.
I like it.

[Aquamarine]

Beethoven's Ninth

Click on the pic

[JustAmy]

Thanks for bringing us Beethoven's Ninth!
We love the music that you bring.

[lonestar]

I'm going to read your story when things quiet down.