Welcome to Gaia! ::

Wow, I thought that was Kristy too. xDDD H'omg.

What a wonderful poem, Kristy! =oo Oh em gee. xD

Uh. -thinks of a poem-

The RPing thread
Is now dead
And I just rhymed
Without meaning to.
RPing is fun
But now it is done.
No one is there
To post anymore.
To now quote our not-beloved
George Bush
We have misunderestimated
The thread
Of RPing.

EDIT: Okay peoples, changing my color post-thingy from red to purple. xD It matches my av better anyways.

[ Message temporarily off-line ]

I really like the idea of that onion poem smile It's a neat idea, and totally metaphorial. I wish I could write poetry - it'd be the talent I'd want biggrin I think I'm too literal and clear about my writing to do it seriously. I'm more of a facts, arguments and descriptions kind of writer, stylistically. I think we're doing a unit on poetry later this year in English - that should be interesting. I love reading poetry. Hope she doesn't make us write much razz

I have my english stuff home with me today.

Valentine

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

Carol Ann Duffy


I think it's growing on me. It's quite difficult to do notes on it though. I know theres lots but it's more a general feeling than anything I could put into words. Which doesn't help for essays.

Poetry is love. Here's a poem I found and loved:

-----

"Solitude" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, and it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

-----

*sigh* Gorgeous, isn't it? And so painfully true...I have more poems that I love, but they're packed for the moment.

Ashlie: An Inventory of Being


My name is Ashlie.

I am 16 years old.

I am a high school student, but I’m more of a woman than I need to be.

I love chili on my rice and ice cream is my guilty pleasure.
But not chocolate – I like strawberry.

The smell of roses on a summers day is my favourite smell in the world.
But too many make me choke.

I love all things to do with the Supernatural.

Especially the show.

I work constantly and never receive a dime.

I write from my soul but my words never hold a meaning.
Sometimes I believe that if I could just say what I mean everyone would see me.

So I never do.

I don’t want a white wedding.
I want color and laughter.
Not pure and innocence.

I help old ladies across the street
Then I go home and write poetry and stories about death.

I am pink outside, but black on the inside.

I read Nora Roberts but hate Danielle Steel.

I am my mother’s best friend but she doesn’t even know me.

I listen to punk music
But my radio is set to Cat Country.

I can’t go to sleep without music
But if I let it play all night, my head hurts.

I prefer smoothies to milkshakes
Black to white
And friends to loneliness.

But loneliness comes anyway.

I giggle, but only when I know someone isn’t listening.

My skin is yellow
And sometimes I am in so much pain
I think I’m dying.

Sometimes I wish I were.

But I never tell anyone that.

I write stories in my mind
But when I put them on paper they don’t make sense.
I can think up an entire novel
And never get out of my bed.

My greatest writing happens when I’m in a bubble bath.

Sometimes I cry for no reason.
But most of the time I smile.

Always with a reason.

I like being me but sometimes I wish upon a star to be someone else.

I believe that all dreams can come true
And that all sad people just need a hug and a friend.

I’m a sucker for a good romance
And take it as a personal tragedy when it doesn’t work.

I like high heels
But I stumble and trip when I wear them.

I may be an outsider
But I like it.

I prefer night to day
But I’m scared of the dark.

I’m deathly afraid of heights, specifically falling
But someday I really want to go bungee jumping.

I know that if I wish hard enough I can beat anything.

I cry over TV shows.

I take everything to heart and it hurts.

I don’t have a style
But that’s the way I want it.

My greatest fear is that
If I was to conform to everyone else, I’d lose what little hold I have on me.

And then I’d truly not have a voice.

Someday I want to change the world.

But right now all I want is to laugh a little.

My motto is that to truly be individual you need to understand what’s inside you.
And I do.

My name is Ashlie, and this is 2006.

That's the chain letter poem!

It's very well done, even if it was just a vehicle to annoy people through spam messaging.