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I opened up a topic for my old writings.
I realise I'm not that good, but I got some positive comments a few years back. Maybe you'll enjoy this.

First off, one of my last writings (A bit strange to start with the last, oh well):

Quote:

Fissures

It is all but to inspire,
* when shadows cloud your world.
Yet, strange it is,
* how your world can turn around it,
* * how it can become your life in times dire

The pen is cold and confronting,
* trying to draw near the soul, in vain.
I would go and forget
* myself in a way so easily set
* * but losing yourself within is no answer
* * * for pen and paper offer little to the seeking.
Only to those dying.

Am I then struggling against my peace of mind?
It seems strange to me,
* this leap of faith.
But, in fact, it is very much familiar,
* as those familiar with it can quickly see.

And thus I wonder,
* why I do not throw down this pen;
* * or, why I remain chained to every piece of paper,
* * * asking why I still flee in words?
It might be because of this addiction I yet grow fonder,
* it might be, because I really can…

And a little doodle:

Quote:

It is that I in wonder stare,
* because lye lies but the yonder
* * and the horizon lies everywhere.

There's more, if you're interested. Don't be affraid to give fair (harsh) comment; I can take it, and it's the a really helpfull sort of comment as well :ok:

-Doubler

For those interested I'll continue this thread. It's here now :unsure:

First another of my last writings, to clarify the first and possibly explain why I haven't really written for a while.

Quote:

Broken

The light lands on paper,
* touching some crude, black lines,
* * glittering in my pen.
A face shows in the cold flash of reflection,
* I do not recognise it, perhaps I never can.

Am I that writer then?
Some words are empty, most are true,
* yet they remain but words,
* * and none succeed to describe you.
Never can I describe you with paper, ink and pen.

And so I end up cutting that what before seemed most important,
* now making little more then sense, outright,
* * something cold and rational,
* * * in darkness lit by an electric light,
* * * * and thus the result is entirely inconsistent.

If only I could make paper understand,
* tell it of my deep desire.
But with paper one cannot truly converse,
* and it does not even offer true comfort in times dire,
* * as much as this broken heart it can never mend.

And an entirely different one I hope you'll understand.

Quote:

Solace of this dreamer

There are people so alike
* The winds,
they appear fleeting and unreal.
And of these people,
* fleeting and unreal,
* * some posses the power
to make us feel;
* they’re there.

There are people akin to
* the flickering flame,
striking fear and awe into the heart.
And some of these people,
* evoking fear and awe,
* * grow ever greater,
since I saw
* they’re there.

And a few people are as
* a careful song,
blessing you with both laugh and tear.
And a few of these people,
* making you laugh and cry,
* * can be with you,
making you sigh:
* ‘they’re there.’

And when you see,
* and when you feel,
* * and when they’re willing to share;
sighing for the dream,
and finally you know,
* she’s here.

Cheers people ^_^
-Doubler

Nice.

You're talented, your poems are a bit weird though.

All for the better :D .

Thanks Blood-Pigggy (Wow, I'm talented :D ).
I'm a freestyler, and I write what I need to get out of my system, in a way that pleases me. That might explain the weirdness; I'm a weird person :tease:

Things I write usually go through a few revisions, and the oldest have been revised many times. Here's the first 'serious' thing I ever really wrote (don't laugh LOL). It's the version I pretty much settled with in the end. I should have the original around somewhere, and if I can find it I'll post it some time :)

Quote:

Will I shed ten tears?
Ten tears where there were none before.
One tear, surprised, for love and all that it may bring.
Two tears, reluctantly, in pity of myself, for what I feel.
Three tears, in horror, in self-contempt, for what I am.
Four tears, dreaming, for her and her duress.
Ten tears, where there were none before.
Ten tears have finally been shed.

Allthough most of what I wrote is in English (it's very easy to express yourself in English), some are in Dutch, and there's even one that's partially in French (don't ask :P). Here's one in Dutch.

Quote:

Als ik in mijn wereld zou leven,
zou ik leven in een wereld
die leeg en verlaten zou zijn,
vol met wind en zand,
vol met stroming zonder leven,
vol met schaduwen,
meer schaduwen dan dingen,
schaduwen van mensen die hand in hand lopen met de mijne,
mijn schaduw die heel andere dingen doet dan ikzelf.*

If people like, I'll translate it.

Right now I'm preparing to go on a short two week vacation, and there's a lot to be done. I'll see when I'll find the time to update again. In the meantime, here's a Paint picture of our backyard :P
http://img353.imageshack.us/img353/3...kedited4sw.png

:cheers:
-Doubler

I really do like your poetry, Doubler :) Translate the Dutch one, pretty please? :angel:

As for your backyard... well... it's rather dark :P

Quote:

Originally posted by Doubler@Aug 15 2005, 03:31 PM

Quote:

Als ik in mijn wereld zou leven,
zou ik leven in een wereld
die leeg en verlaten zou zijn,
vol met wind en zand,
vol met stroming zonder leven,
vol met schaduwen,
meer schaduwen dan dingen,
schaduwen van mensen die hand in hand lopen met de mijne,
mijn schaduw die heel andere dingen doet dan ikzelf.*

If I'd live in my world,
I'd live in a word
That would be empty and deserted,
Filled with wind and sand,
Filled with flows without life,
Filled with shadows,
More shadows than things,
Things of people who walk hand in hand with mine,
My shadow that does very different things than myself.

Edit: fixed a typo and some meanings

Thanks Tai.
It seems that Kon-Tiki's already translated the poem. Thanks :ok: . But eh... put a 'd' after 'san' and I used 'stroming' more in the sense of 'flow' or 'motion' then as 'streams'. It's a very good translation, though!

The backyard thingey was a small joke :P. It's not that I pretend to be skilled at Paint. But if you want to know: it's our backyard at the very last moments of daylight, when the sun has already dissappeared, but darkness has not yet set in entirely. :)

You would live in the deepest, darkest repressions of depression? That would suck man.

It is an awesome poem though. :ok:

Thanks Blast.

Surprisingly enough I've got absolutely nothing to do at the moment, so I decided to look for that original version I promised (I had to dig deep for this one).
This should be it:

Quote:

Ten tears have never been shed.
Ten tears, where there were none before.
One, the largest, for love and all that it may bring.
Two, reluctantly, in pity of myself.
Three, in horror, for self-disgust and self-contempt.
Four, the most, for you and what you did.
Ten tears.
Ten tears have finaly been shed.

I must admit that I was in doubt for a while about whether I should post this :unsure:. I'd say the current version is a lot better, right?
Especially now that I've fixed that awfull typo :P

And I'll add this little thingey.

Quote:

Where’s your shadow?
I know, I’m in it.
A deep dark crimson.
Did you know such is the darkness,
* you leave behind?

I'll see if I can move on to something else next time.

:tnx:
-Doubler