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Sat, Jun. 4th, 2005, 05:13 pm
meliss_: Poetry Fans! :) :) :)


My grandmother's dying wish was to publish a book of her poetry, and the day before she died she was told from the publisher that her dream was going to come true. 2 months after she passed away, the book is published.

If we sell 500 hardcopy books, it will appear on the shelves of Barnes and Noble. So please, consider buying this book. It truley is amazing, and it would mean alot to the memory of my Nanny.

I think this book is amazing. It is poetry about spirituality, love, and life. I have grown up around my grandmothers poetry, and I have always found it so emotionally moving and inspiring. I honestly think that others will love it just as I have.


One Light by Norma Hantson

Thu, Apr. 28th, 2005, 01:04 pm
goodgirl2u: I ...

I wrote this for someone very special to me..

My Heart

My heart runs over with love
And I have now found someone that was sent from up above.
Who knows how long this relationship will last...
I hope it can last forever as long as I don't live in the past...
My heart is filled with joy
And No, it is not from some boy...
It's filled with the Joy from your love.
You are my very on personal Angel sent from above...
My heart runs over with love
And now you know why.
This wasn't written to make you cry...
This was written to make you smile.....
I hope that I will always be in your heart (at least for a while)

Thu, Nov. 25th, 2004, 10:59 pm
artsyirishchick: (no subject)


I couldn't help it...haha. Man, we need to get this thing running again O_o

Wed, Jul. 14th, 2004, 11:59 am
puccadoll: storyfusion

This is an experimental page for an ongoing communal narrative (or anti-narrative) which can include any narrative (or non-narrative) form such as prose, poetry, lists, scripts, tables, images and surveys, etc. It is intended for anyone willing and interested in contributing to an ongoing piece of art (with periodic digressions). There are no restrictions but that contributions be a part of the ongoing story. It is hoped to develop a fusion of widely varied voices and styles and media within a somewhat coherent framework. The ridiculous is highly welcome. Please edit your contributions.

The idea is that the story is not planned, it evolves. So, if one writer or artist introduces a character or theme the next writer or artist can develop it, or not, as she or he chooses, as long as there is some kind of coherent link that makes it 'readable' (in the broadest sense of a readable 'text').

The idea partly came from a party scene in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, where characters' personalities are developed, and contemporary reading habits explored, through a joint storytelling game. I was thinking along the lines of Pynchon or Rabelais or Perec or something anti-novelistic when I thought of doing this, but perhaps an avante-garde soap opera could also be an apt description. I am reminded of a drawing game I learned in primary school where each child draws a section of a body, folds it over to conceal it, and passes the page onto another child who contributes the next section, and so on, until the page ends and an inconsistent creature is revealed which doesn't conform to any kind mould other than that the pieces fit together. Also think: serial, like Dickens or Conan-Doyle, where each contribution to a larger story is written periodically (The Pickwick Papers), or each short story contributes to a larger reality (the myth of Sherlock Holmes), but with different authors (as in a television series) and, of course, with different media.

Illustrators, digital artists, graphic novelists, photographers, cartoonists, poets, writers of any genre, scriptwriters, non-fiction writers, copywriters, painters, embroiderers, sculptors, artists of any description are welcome and encouraged to participate.


Wed, Apr. 14th, 2004, 07:18 am
forxyou: (no subject)

i think i'm going to try and get some of my poetry published, i don't care where. i might try to find some addresses online, if anyone knows you can hit me up and help me out.

also another question.
i need some structure.
i know the haiku format, but i was wanting like a sonnet or any other structures that you kids wanna help me with! thanks!


Fri, Feb. 6th, 2004, 01:59 am
wulf_gallant: Anticipation

Here I sit
I'd knit
No inclination
I guess I'll wait
For you to come
For you to walk throught that gate
For you to hum
Sweet tunes
In my ear
Many moons
Us, here
Seems like never
Here comes the sun...

^_^ - Fun.

Mon, Jan. 19th, 2004, 09:12 am
forxyou: (no subject)

is my anticipation showing through?
can you taste my sweat?
my veins pump only battery acid.
my heart shakes with fear.
making it to the end of the hall.
seems harder than it ever was.
the door is always closed.
there's never an open exit.
the handle is covered in splinters.
my hands too tired to move.


Tue, Jan. 6th, 2004, 10:00 am
tyskkvinna: n00b entry

I'm new. I want to play. So here is my shot.


my head is in the clouds
and my mind is in the sky
my hands here down on earth
working hard as they can
to recreate the heavens
to represent the sands
of the alpha of orion
of the capricornus sun

fleeting moments gather
the anticipation of dawn
new universe arising
giving birth the virgin to
explosion beneath
above beside around
inspiration abounds
before the rain comes

[copyright 2004 by lis bokt]


Sat, Dec. 27th, 2003, 01:06 am
pinklacedcorset: Word up.

New word... ^_^


No definition becuase I'm lazy. XD

Sun, Dec. 21st, 2003, 11:02 am
daylight_burns: yO.

Okay, I'm Jade, I'm new here...let's give this a whirl...


A dollop of sunfire
Confined to one square inch
A miniscule pyre
Lit with a simple pinch
A lick of yellowed promise
Introduced to the skin
A melding and a welting
Let the swift relief begin
A trial of volcanic pain
Diluted by emotion
Proceeds to leave a crimson stain
In bitter locomotion
And now the lighter heated up
Like immobile desert sand
You let your shaking grip go slack
Wouldn't want to burn your hand
And later on the small scar aches
And crackles and the skin, it breaks.
Now you bang your head against a wall
And curse the insanity of it all
And wish emotion would not strike
As pain and sorrow and the like.

I watch from the sidelines with terrified eyes
If I could, I'd bear your cross and let my own soul die
The demons in your soul, they rage
And I am standing in a cage
But someday, I pray, you'll hear my small voice
And you'll be granted a different choice...

I wonder which you'll choose.

I wrote this with a friend of mine in mind...some people won't, or can't be saved...idk, comment if you'd like.

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