TheDwarfyOne

In response to:

Ahh, I see. I was a bit confused. Either way, keep writing. It's something more people should be encouraged to do!

Thanks, Rogue! I believe I am simply going to have to wait patiently (perhaps passive-aggressively?) until you post a poem or two yourself.

That duet made me chuckle

Oh, hey, another poetry person. I quite enjoy writing those too. Love the art on this thread. I'll post some of what I've written in a bit, by way of application. Edit: put in the following. And then the ones I posted concerning Cosmere here.

A Tolkien-esque one based on the Hobbit: If more of us spared thought for home Instead of glist'ning gold The world would be a better place Once all the tales were told. A tear would fall down craggy face For comrades slain in war And monuments of thanks and hope Would crowd the cavern floor. No more the shoulder coldly shown And sneers beneath a crown, No more would suffering and pain Be met by callous frown. I know my home by sight and smell, The oak tree at the gate And sounds of laughter echoing Though it be morn or late. The green fields roll in subtle lines Down to a pearly lake And all the land shines forth a glow That gold could never fake. This is my home, I cherish yet Each touch which makes it mine And mourn each step that leads me hence Beyond its Welcome sign. So not for gleaming falls of gold Nor weapon laid in hoard Would I your venture take to heart; Nay, you would lose my sword Were it not for your home you sought. Though it be hewn of carven stone And hold a mighty throne, Though it may hold kin's buried bone In tombs of crystal grown. Aye, even though it echoes tones Of piping's airy moans Amongst the pillars' fluted stones Shaped like the forest's boles - I'll help your cause despite such charms For it is dear to you And all should have a home to speed Their steps when day is through. The world would be a better place If gold had never shone But I will help to bank the flames Which faded with you gone And watch the anvil, pounding proud! To see the sparks ensue For this is not what I'd call home And yet... it is to you.

Beneath the great oak-wood The god named Pan is dying In the wheat fields of the West His folk are dying, In the great old tundra of the North And the crest of the midnight wave All nature’s folk are crying. And yet we are his people too Who left his house and went forth, Digging burrows of our own for iron. Bringing out the fox and hare with skill All for the visceral knowledge of the kill. Grandfather Pan is dying, and all in pain Becomes profane. Hear them swear. Again. Again. The wind is whispering curses And the beechen leaves are scared That when they touch the ground No comfort will be found. And so they rustle their lament For their already-fallen leafy fellows Silent to the human ear, which will not hear. Even I, writer of the tale, who thinks he can Does not believe the Great God Pan can fail But must instead appropriate autumnal glory, Rise in ashes and majestic wings of flame And being the world once more again Into his arms, his old arms, his farming arms And we with him will all be crying, flying. But Beneath the great oak-wood The god named Pan is dying.

Haiku, you say? The darkness stirs wings About an empty bright throne The gods have left us.

I can't believe I've not heard of him; that looks great. Not that I should trust someone known as "Truthless," of course. Still, thanks.

That is particularly good. Was it part of a book? By me: Hear now the lyrics of my heart The apple tree with golden fruit The hidden mountain, standing tall. The cliff face doomed to fall. It pierces through the land In fold and fallow dwelling long And in that music’s hand We hear a sieving song. “Where grows the smiling woods And badger wheels his way Where groves of elm are basking In the daylight’s gentle sway. “There, there my humble friends Will hearts once more be free To gather up their ragged ends And simply be.” Then tap your feet in time to it And hear its glad refrain; And if you hear it, oh my heart, Ignore the hidden pain.

So, I've already done something like this related to Cosmere poetry. Thought I'd make one for people to generally get poetical in. Here, share your favourite poems or release your own into the world. So, to start off, here's one I wrote this morning; I woke this morning Fire in my head And walked into the wood. The trees were standing Lit with light On water fed. I fancied saw the inward Flame upon a bud And reached my hand above. But it was lying When it glowed. As it should. For love is flaming On the treetops' tips While I'm below, disgraced. Inferno blazing In my head On my lips. Hold, hold, my inner conscience Let me not release The thoughts inside my heart That drives me out here In the calm Without ease. Let not the wishes dreamed of In the darkest night Come out amongst the light. That fire ought not Be released Blazing bright.

I'll give a hand.

Honour. It carved the face Of Dalinar. A god in majesty admired It from afar. Lights bloomed where Thunder boomed; Stormfather knows That it is doomed. And in the darkness, Tiny thing Sylphrena curls A silver wing In void and emptiness She dreams. And her thoughts Are on honour In the hearts of man. Her hopes laid down Against all hope. Surely man can Once more uphold The vows Of old. And Kaladin Stormcursed Feet before The endless void Looks down. Chasmfiend's den, A place of death... And yet, deep down A gleam. Life spren. A tear is on His face And choices On his mind. Honour, oh honour Or a trip to where All honour's blind. His muscles twitch Jaw hardens Life revolves Around his grave, Earth's schism. Where is he? Honour chasm. A breeze Of silver Passes. His heart Within him Pounding. He steps back From the edge And leans against A ledge. Exhausted! Yet determined, Mind drilling sinew, And honour bringing Purpose. He greets the dew.

I'm writing one too. Only 18000 words in, though.

Yes, that's precisely what I was thinking of! Dyin' shouts ring out on the battlefield, Enter Heleran in full shardplate Kal sees him charging t'wards Amaram Cries out "My God, he's killed my men." Here comes the story of the Stormbless-ed, The man that Meridas came to blame For somethin' that he never done Put in a prison cell, and branded he might-just-be The Champion of the World. Three bodies from his wagon Stormblessed sees And Heleran, a Shardbearer, moving around mysteriously “I didn’t desert”, he says and he throws up his hands, “I was only saving Amaram. I hope you understand. “I left him bleeding,” he says “in his shards, “Hey, why are you calling out for the guards.” And the Brightlord calls the guards And they arrive on the scene With their spear-heads flashing In the wet Rosharian night. One time long ago in another battlefield Kaladin Stormblessed and squadron fight fiercely shield to each shield Number one contender for the Shattered Plains fight Had no idea what kinda crem was about to go down When his curse pulled him from his fantasy of good Just like the time before and the time before that Like when his brother Tien was laid down low If you’re darkeyed, might as well not show up on the field ‘Less you wanna be a shield. Amaram had got a partner he went by the name Sadeas Him and his honour guard men were just out fighting around He said, “I saw one man run away. He looked like lower dahn. He took a red chull and left as fast-as-he can.” And all of the army believed what he said. Guard cried, “wait a minute, boys, this one’s not dead!” So they took him to the infirmary And though this man could hardly see They told him he could identify the guilty man. Four in the morning and they haul Stormblessed in They took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs The wounded man looks up through his one dying eye Says, “Why’d you bring him in here for? Kal ain’t the guy!” Here’s the story of the Stormbless-ed, The man that Meridas came to blame For somethin' that he never done Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been the champion of the world. Four months later the slavers are in pain Stormblessed’s in plantations fighting for his name While Torol Sadeas is still in the killing game And the guards are laughing with him over Kaladin’s befouled convict name “Remember that desertion that happened in a war? Remember you said you saw the getaway chull? That’s how a man can play ball with the law! Amaram, was it that darkeyes that you saw running that night? Don’t forget that you are Bright”. Meridas Amaram said, “I really don’t care.” The guard said, “a lord like you could use a Shard. We helped you with the killing job and we’re talking with Sadeas Now you don’t wanna have to lose some face, be a weak Brightness. You’ll be doing society a favour. That son of a cremling’s brave and getting braver. We want to put his chull in stir. We want to pin this desertion on him. He ain’t no Lighteyed lord!” Stormblessed could take a squad out with just one spear But he never liked it for in his heart he had one fear “It’s honour,” he’d say, “and I do it for all. But when it’s over I’d just as soon forget it all And have some paradise With my bro alive and the slaves all safe Away from where the slavers trail.” But then they took him through the fire Where they tried to turn a Knight into a Squire. All of Stormblessed’s cards were marked in advance The trial was a cremling-farce. He never had a chance For Amaram had no concern for witnesses – they’re duns! To the light eyed who watched he was a revolutionary bum And to the darkeyes he was just a lower dahn-er No one doubted that he was a deserter And though they could not prove the crime The Bright lord said he was the one who did the deed And the all-bright army agreed. Kaladin Stormblessed falsely tried The crime – desertion, ‘done’. Guess who testified? Meridas, Torol, and they both baldly lied And the Rosharians – they all went along for the ride How can the life of such a man Be in the palm of some fool’s hand? To see him obviously framed Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed To live in a land Where justice is a game. Now all the Brightladies in their havahs and gloves Are free to drink the violet and paint out doves While Stormblessed sits like Nalan in a ten-foot cell An innocent man in a living hell Yes, that’s the story of the Stormbless-ed But it won’t be over ‘til they clear his name And give him back the slaving done Put in a wagon cell but one time he could-a been The champion of the world.

It's a bit too specific to fit Kaladin perfectly, but it still reminded me of him.

Surely it is possible to "sate your yearning for divinity" rather than "[Something] sated your yearning for divinity"? I do agree that that line seems clunky, but I don't see that it being in the active voice is the issue.

By the gods, yes. I have changed my mind. Dalinar can keep it, so long as Sanderson puts out a second edition of OB wherein the event described by that link is used.

Ah, to quote Hopkins - "to mend her, we end her." Yea, I kinda liked the meaning behind the original ending too, but figured I was sacrificing it on the altar of poetic cohesion.

I absolutely love constructive criticism. It's hard to get a lot of the time; for some reason, most people don't read poetry. Who knew? I completely agree about the last bit. I had some issue with them, then finished them and had a moment where I could no longer tell if it was good or not. Hard to be impartial when you're the one that wrote it, I suppose. The second line, I didn't read as falling flat, but I do now. Hmmm. I'll change it a bit. Oh, as for the last line breaking meter, it's probably because I pronounce it 'Ray-ah-din.' No idea if that's the right pronunciation; I now think not.

I enjoyed reading through this thread. For some reason, I can see Moash sitting at a campfire singing "Eye of the Tiger." Edit: As an aside, there are Hamiltons in my family tree. Apparently, Alexander was a core family name they used over the generations. Makes all the Hamilton references extra amusing.

Can highly recommend Wheel of Time. I wouldn't say it's the series that got me into reading fantasy, but it certainly figures largely in my list "Why Fantasy is Great." Said list does not exist, but now I wish it did. Hmmmm...

Not sure what 17th Shard policy on doubleposting is, but ah well. So, I recently read Elantris (there are a few Sanderson books I haven't read as a kind of back-up in case I need to read something good, it was one of them.) Wrote this afterwards:

Hmm, I have read some of his more academic writings as well. They're revealing - his 'the Monsters and the Critics' was particularly interesting.

Indeed. He saw her dancing in the forests, and must have felt like Beren. It's part of why I love it, too; the true love written into every word. It is more than touching. And I'll need to get into reading the Silmarillion some time. I do have it, it just hasn't really been opened. I am continually put off by everyone saying how hard it is to read, but I really should find out for myself.