Poemscroll

[Varun]

Here's another.

‘Tis Should Happen Before Life Jars Me
‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.
I should take a sword,
And a belt and dagger,
Having adventures, and
Having the cares of a maggot.

‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.
I should become a horse,
Carrying many,
Poor and Rich alike,
Jumping above a dyke,

‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.
I should become water,
Which would a lot matter,
Quenching thirst and outrageous outbursts,
Being tempered in ice,
In ice’s frigid heat.

‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.
I should be a good book,
Armed with the Sword of Words,
Friend of all and companion of many,
You best mate on life’s journey.

‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.
I should be a mountain,
Proud and supreme,
Touching clouds of rain,
Holding realm eternal,
‘Tis should happen
Before life jars me.

 

[Varun]

Here is one more.

Sticks and Stones
Aye, you say we stand,
But not free,
We are but slaves
to the ones that chained us,
with glee.
They came in hordes,
Down from the mountain; and
Through every node.
They took it all,
Wives, women and children most of all.
While we watched our citadel fall.

But a day shall come,
When strength is granted,
By Heaven come;
Sticks and stones were sowed;
And so shall they reap.
With courage as food,
Knowledge as strength and
Wisdom as a shield;
Our rage morphed;
Into spears and swords;
And so shall their life we rob;
For sticks and stones did they sow and
Sticks and stones they shall reap.

 

[Varun]

Language

You wander down the street,
Looking to eat,
That chocolate bar,
Or that fruit tart.
You walk to the shop,
And ask the man,
Given me the bar, pops!

Perhaps the story,
Should begin more evenly;
Long ago, that is
A very long ago,
Man lived in caves,
Or in trees or mountains,
He was very lonely,
Wanted to be a family,
But how could he do it?
When he had no way to tell it?

So he invented gestures,
But that couldn’t tell everything,
Others began to look up to him,
Feeling glad,
Since he made sounds that were rad,
He got the family he wanted.

His son later thought,
What his father had brought,
And decided to advance,
Creating sounds,
That became his venture.
He began slowly,
Talking with sounds,
Only with his family;
And so came sounds,
And he became famous in a glance.

Later his son,
But unfortunately a bum,
Spent his time,
Sounds mumbling away,
But he discovered,
That which we have mastered,
Language.

That’s the story of language,
But it may not be true,
For if you know what’s true,
You can make it true,
For language is flexible,
And it is evolving,
So will its past and so will its future.

 

[DeletedUser]

Hey Varun, I must say I really appreciate your poems, and they are amazingly good! Also, good luck in the Creative Writing Comp, you seem a good poet! +rep!

Cat

 

[DeletedUser8396]

As a general statement, I find something interesting about most/all of your poems. You and I differ INCREDIBLY with style. You tell a story in poetic form with specific characters and plot, while I generally tell a story in a round-about way with philosophy intertwined. Your style takes a great deal of skill, because not only do you have to come up with a story to tell, you must find words to tell that story in a fluid motion. Most of your poems do, which is impressive.

Your general rhyme scheme is also generally different from mine. You mainly rely on meter with subtle rhyme, and maybe add in a bit of direct rhyme (or just make the entire thing rhyme directly).

I can't go through all your poems at the moment, as there are so many and I am busy atm, but I have read these (I'll read/review more in time):

Darkness in our Heart

This poem intrigues me. Why? Well, a few reasons actually: darkness (I absolutely love that genre), warriors (again...love the genre), warriors (physical) fighting a non-physical (darkness) as if it were physical.

Words

'talked with words' lol...duh

All kidding aside, this poem teaches a wonderful lesson: to shut up, to be kind with words, and to treat others fairly. WHile I may be off on your intentions, it is how it speaks to me.

Nostalgia

The grass is always greener, eh? I love the flow this poem has. It has a bit of subtle rhyme in it, which helps it move along.

___________________

Thats all I could do for the moment. I'll work on some more later/tomorrow.

 

[Varun]

As a general statement, I find something interesting about most/all of your poems. You and I differ INCREDIBLY with style. You tell a story in poetic form with specific characters and plot, while I generally tell a story in a round-about way with philosophy intertwined. Your style takes a great deal of skill, because not only do you have to come up with a story to tell, you must find words to tell that story in a fluid motion. Most of your poems do, which is impressive.

Your general rhyme scheme is also generally different from mine. You mainly rely on meter with subtle rhyme, and maybe add in a bit of direct rhyme (or just make the entire thing rhyme directly).

I can't go through all your poems at the moment, as there are so many and I am busy atm, but I have read these (I'll read/review more in time):

Darkness in our Heart

This poem intrigues me. Why? Well, a few reasons actually: darkness (I absolutely love that genre), warriors (again...love the genre), warriors (physical) fighting a non-physical (darkness) as if it were physical.

Words

'talked with words' lol...duh

All kidding aside, this poem teaches a wonderful lesson: to shut up, to be kind with words, and to treat others fairly. WHile I may be off on your intentions, it is how it speaks to me.

Nostalgia

The grass is always greener, eh? I love the flow this poem has. It has a bit of subtle rhyme in it, which helps it move along.

___________________

Thats all I could do for the moment. I'll work on some more later/tomorrow.

I would appreciate it!

 

[Varun]

Hey Varun, I must say I really appreciate your poems, and they are amazingly good! Also, good luck in the Creative Writing Comp, you seem a good poet! +rep!

Cat

Thanks Cat!

 

[Varun]

Long Gone, Long Lost

O, what is Music?
What is Laughter and what is Happiness?
What is Love and what is Sadness?
Thus I wonder for
My Life is Long Gone, Long Lost

I spent my time,
To be the best,
Buried in wakefulness,
And not enjoying rest.

The others celebrated,
While I deliberated,
I was lost in the pain of past,
To the fury of my wrath;
But forgot Life’s path.

I made it very high,
But felt very low,
For neglecting life nigh,
Imbibing Sadness’ bow,
While sleeping on deathbed’s row.

So, know this my friends,
Do you charts and graphs,
Read your maps and its harps,
But never forget,
The joy life begets,
Before it is Long Gone,Long Lost.

 

[Varun]

Here is something that I composed for a friend of mine who has recently gone through a series of ups and downs in his life. Please read this everyone. I know that it is not a biggie but if this changes your life then it might be worth it.

Become the Sculptor
You think that you are wrong,
Everything around you causing to moan,
You think that no one believes,
And that you are not a relief,
But count your blessings, count your blessings,
Just believe,
Nothing around you can go wrong,
That you are okay,
Everything around you is right,
The sun is out, and the day is bright,
The night is young and the evening is just right,
Life is good, life is beautiful,
There are a few bumps,
But, hey
Who am I kidding?
What would clay be without a few lumps??
For the lumps are which disfigure,
And the lumps also give figure,
It depends on the sculptor and that's you,
Shape the lumps into a figure,
And become a beautiful sculpture.

 

[Varun]

Hey there guys!! Its been long since I posted. So here it comes...

Oh, btw. This was also my entry for the Poetry Competition in the forum, so enjoy

Life till Death
The journey began,
In the mother’s womb,
Of little Ella.
Out she came, head first,
Then her body and her toes.
Beautiful she was, than the others,
And more beautiful than her mother.
Out came her first breath,
Into the glorious life that comes,
With time as a companion

She grew with time,
And time grew her,
Grew her beautifully,
Inducing the mortality
Of human life.

She turned one,
And talked her first word,
Walked her first steps,
Sang her first tune,
And, made everyone proud.

She turned two,
Walked around a lot too,
Walked her walk on the ground,
And made her folks proud.

She turned three,
So her folks decided,
That it was time,
That she learnt about the world.
They took her to kindergarten,
Of course, she didn’t want there,
Which child would like,
To be away from mother’s care?
But she discovered the joy,
And oh boy, oh boy,
Did she enjoy!

She grew up further,
Time shaping her farther,
And faster.
She became prettier,
An apple of the eye,
For her mother and father.

She went to school,
Made great friends,
Learnt friendship,
To make or mend;
She was smart,
And learnt quickly,
All following Time,
Her faithful friend.

She grew elder and went to college,
Met her first guy,
Had her first date,
Shared her first kiss,
Felt heartbreak and
Found reunion.
The boy proposed,
She was indisposed,
He pleaded,
She agreed.

There was great joy home,
And so did Time rejoice,
That its years of penance,
Had found its voice.
They got married,
Had their first child,
A healthy boy,
Who was named as Roy,
There was jubilation,
And Time felt elation,
That here was the one,
Who would pass on the story to a new generation.

Roy grew elder while his parents, older;
Time was nursing both,
The young and the old,
In the same direction,
But one faster than the other.

Ella and her husband grew old,
And eventually they died......
But Time made sure,
That their legacy would continue
From Life till Death; and
Life till Death and forevermore.

 

[Varun]

Music

It is Music,
The intangible thing
Cannot be seen,
Cannot be touched,
Can only be heard,
Can only be felt.

It can endear you, hearten you, beseech you,
It can rock you, shock you, make you go wild,
Its untamed and certainly not mild,
Something loved by both adult and child.
Always making friends,
Gaining popularity in its wake,
Without so much as turning a rake.

Life without Music is lost,
It’s worthless and meaningless,
You may ask why,
Or ‘How can it be!!’ you may cry
But remember this,
Music is in heaven so it is in Hell,
The Nine Muses play for Zeus and Poseidon,
So do they for Hades.

 

[Varun]

Love

Oh, what art thou, love?
Thou hast no boundaries,
Thou not care surrounding,
Thou move in gay abandon,
Honored and mesmerized,
In thy nation.

Thy affect ages all,
Men, children and women fall,
Thy art graceful, yes
So maddening, so wonderful,
Sweet as the bride’s dress.

Thou hast the power to destroy,
Thou hast the power to create,
Thou can make or break,
The hearts of the many,
And the heart of one,
And that can be,
Even me.

 

[DeletedUser8396]

Music

It is Music,
The intangible thing
Cannot be seen,
Cannot be touched,
Can only be heard,
Can only be felt.

It can endear you, hearten you, beseech you,
It can rock you, shock you, make you go wild,
Its untamed and certainly not mild,
Something loved by both adult and child.
Always making friends,
Gaining popularity in its wake,
Without so much as turning a rake.

Life without Music is lost,
It’s worthless and meaningless,
You may ask why,
Or ‘How can it be!!’ you may cry
But remember this,
Music is in heaven so it is in Hell,
The Nine Muses play for Zeus and Poseidon,
So do they for Hades.

You and I have such different writing styles its insane

In this one I liked the slight repititions (with the cannot/can and then the 'endear, hearten, shock, rock' you).

The only thing I didn't care for was the intermittent rhyme scheme (if there was one ). If there's rhyme, generally I prefer it to be consistent (even though some of mine dont...but still). Either way, thats a minor thing and only personal preference

 

[Varun]

Gratitude

It is a word with not many syllables.
But is a word that is careable, for
Tis a heartfelt feeling from deep within,
That sets your heart in a sweet rhythm.
It is unlike love,
But just as graceful –
This feeling of being grateful.

It endears and heartens,
It cheers and enlightens,
A feeling full of mystery,
And shrouded with history,
Such is gratitude –
A winning attitude.

So be grateful for the Sun and the Moon,
Be grateful for the Earth and the stars,
Be grateful for your body parts,
Be grateful so that your health lasts,
Be grateful to the Creator above,
Be grateful to the Devil below,
Be grateful to all you thoughts,
Even be grateful to those thoughts which rot,
Be grateful for everything around you,
Be grateful for that missing something too,
Be grateful for everything you have,
For long life and eternal last.

You many ask,
“Oh, why this tedious routine?”
I say –
“Gratitude is the greatest vaccine”;
Such is this eternal maxim.

 

[Varun]

Dive deep under

The meaning is clear,
Of your stupid fear,
You are afraid you may screw up,
Or give up with your hands up,
But get this message clear,
You gotta dive deep under.

Dive into yourself,
And try to understand the topic ‘About Myself’
It will be hard, I know,
For the truths you face,
Will be a deep blow,
But you can know your fears,
And never will have to worry,
About giving up or screwing up,
Or whining like a pup.

Dive deep under,
Take heart and have courage,
Know your history and know your rage,
Know something of your life’s maze,
And you shall improve,
And other will approve,
Then you can let go
Of the fear of a fatal blow.

 

[Varun]

This one's dedicated to Liam. Let's hone his memory in Forum Grepolis.

Memories and Knives

Memories are like knives,
Smooth to touch and feel,
But razor sharp,
And difficult to heal,
Both underestimated much,
For such a cut is one of a kind,
One of skin and other of mind

Both be cared,
And well you will fare,
Both give joy and both feed,
One feeds the mind,
While other feeds the stomach.

Tend them not,
and they lose their edge,
For their edge is dangerously safe.

Hone them, care them,
for they bring satisfaction,
Without any side-reaction.

 

[Varun]

Gravity - Blast From the Past

We asked -
O, why do we need gravity?
Why, this depravity -
For it prevents us to fly like birds,
Binding us to -
Overpopulation's mule herds.

We can fly high,
Let natural disasters go by;
and make Death sigh,
Finally stopping helpless cries.

So we experimented,
and debated,
Found a way,
To send gravity away.
We jived, but God cried,
For all he created,
Was about to go goodbye.

Shortsightedness blinded us,
Succumbing to our little fuss,
and made a big mess.
We made a record - fair,
But forgot to find a way,
To hold in all the air.

Out went the air,
Into emptiness of space,
Leaving us in a daze.
Still, we are writing this,
For we want you to know this -
"Please put a stop to this.
Do not make -
God's Creation go 'pop' and amiss."

 

[Varun]

Doorways of Life

Life is not circular,
Nor is it linear.
Life is not smooth; and
It will never soothe.

It is severely criss-crossed,
You will be turned and tossed,
Always in purposes cross,
Life will be your boss.
But never worry,
Since life is also very merry,
With sweet wine and sherry,
For something is always there,
A path where you are the heir,
The only question is where.

So keep looking, keep watching,
For the Doorways of Life are always matching,
You to a path and -
A path to you.

 

[Varun]

How about some reviews?

 

[DeletedUser8396]

How about some reviews?

You don't know how much I'd love to review every work submitted by everyone. Hopefully I'll get to a point where that is possible (maybe by New Years).

I'll be working on reviews for your new poems (and a few of your old ones), but no promises about time