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Epitaph for DOS Gamer
Author | Topic |
Posted - Sat, 15 March 2008 @ 07:13 So, when the site was down, oh so briefly, I was worried that it might be gone forever. So I wrote an epitaph and posted it on my geek poetry blog. Here it is, (parodying Elegy Written in a Country Church-Yard): Epitaph for DOS Gamer Here would rest his head upon the lap of Earth Many were the games, and their replay value sincere, No player seeks his games to download, Stefan wrote one too, but he will have to post his own. | |
Posted - Sat, 15 March 2008 @ 07:14 If you enjoyed my poem, feel free to check out my others: Geek Poetry | |
Posted - Sat, 15 March 2008 @ 07:54 Yeah, it was a bit of a shock... I didn't know what to do, I got cold sweats and everything! But anyway, this was my addition to the poem! It seems apt to join in this lament May we find comfort just to know So join us one and join us all | |
Posted - Sat, 15 March 2008 @ 22:46 cool heres mine Im a poet and i dont know it... OOOOH that owned!!!! | |
Posted - Sun, 16 March 2008 @ 20:16 I don't know if this rhyme has a use, I've just read too much Dr. Seuss. | |
Posted - Sun, 16 March 2008 @ 20:52 Here is mine its a sequel to a classic
Return of the Eyes: The Raven II
While reading books of the English literature within thy weary dorm I was pondering to myself, for what would happen next As the pages folded back revealing newer text Sipping my Earl Grey tea through my porcelain cup I say For only thy would know what would happen on this dreary day I heard the sound of hammering thunder To myself I have to wonder What was that sound all about For should I be in total doubt Maybe it�s a noise at the door, for thy should ignore Slumber to lumber, for the wood will burn Ashes to Ashes, but what will I learn I get up from my comfy red chair To go and stand to get some fresh air For then I heard another sound of hammering thunder Again to myself I have to wonder I look at my portrait of my beloved Cecilia For some say she is a dark witch With thrilling powers of black magic That makes the city destruction very tragic I do not believe those rumors, for those are vague My beloved Cecilia you my dear are not a plague I get up and sat back down on my comfy red chair A chilling draft came through my hair, but I read my book with a blank stare For this is not a sadistic lair However I love thy animals of habitation, for my curious kind is a bear If I shall say thou so, for my conscious must fold This story of wretchedness must be told I felt a pounding in my stomach, I felt hungry, wanting food Getting off my comfy red chair I say, for what would I do today Creak the door open I did, and onward I went Halls are looking gloom, however it is lacking the style of a room As I got to the kitchen I say to thy self �Such wonderful food I seek, for I shall feast� My stomach still growl with ravaging hunger like a beast I checked thy cabinets of thy house, � I shall find my cheese like thy mouse.� A loud noise of hammering thunder again arise Thou noise of thou sound caught me by surprise I jump down to the textured floor Only to be looking at this chamber door Is it an illusion �I thought to myself�? Could be magic that can force me to dwell But only thy know what this story can tell I venture back to my hall of study Sitting again in my comfy red chair Only then I hear tapping at the stair Thus I look on and said, �Who goes there show thy face for I do not fear thou presence�? Standing I did, and clench my fists I must to venture this madly dusk Storming the stair I must for I am as sharp as an Elephant tusk I dared and said, �Show yourself madly presence�! Nothing yet nothing has occurred instead it is still a storm In my homely abode but yet still a tale of lively form I then hear the howls of wolves, howls worst than a thunder I leave myself saying, �What is thy noise I wonder�? Near my closet getting my coat to warm myself, which is a brown winter coat of fur Aiming for thy door open I must, but my vision started to blur Winds were pushing me back, but forward I must go, for the tale to be told This is the day, for thy will tell me thy time of existence For thy would will tell me that I must wield persistence I went to leave thy house the sky of day ventures into the day of night Still I must go on forward I must go on, for the tale to be told Through the forest I go, and howls I heard louder than before Stopped myself to listen my heart beat, but I venture for more Finally I reached thy cabin I love enter I did I shut the door locking it well Being nervous I looked around, but then I tripped and fell I stared towards the small hall looked and said, �My second chair smiles upon me I see�? I moved forward to sit in chair but then I stopped I looked into the library I had in my Cabin Looking through my section of Literature, Music History, Puritanism and Fantasy Out of all I ventured through I chose Puritanism I looked and started to read one of the novels from Nathaniel Hawthorne His stories are as good and loud as a dragon horn The one I picked to read is that of Young Goodman Brown That good story of a young puritan man who assumed that people were loosing faith In the Puritan religion and that of everyone was worshipping the devil I open to read pondering about Goodman, which then I heard tapping I pulled myself straight looking all around To thou end there was not a single sound What is this I say, is it a ounce of black magic, or is it a drench of oil My blood started to run through veins almost to the point of boiling I thought to myself �Tis a visitor I assume�? But there was no answer, so I waited then kept reading While I read I heard thy noise at my cabin window, and thou came a bird A black colored bird with eyes that could pierce through the heart This bird was shaped, and was sitting on my statuette like a work of art It stared at me and called out �Cecilia is nevermore�? I try to ignore the wretched bird, but it said again �Cecilia is nevermore�? Then I heard footsteps and a shadowy figure stepped in It said to me �Stop that wretched bird for it took my dear Lenore�! I looked and it was man wearing a reddish robe with a book in hand What seemed like a rather disturbing trend seemed quite bland I asked this man �Who is this Lenore�? The man then replied �Lenore! Lenore! My dear loved one Lenore�. �That damned bird drove me to insanity don�t let it do the same to you�. I looked at the man then the bird it was sitting on my shelf I said to thy bird �Be gone! You devilish bird you, and rid me of this nightmare�! Then there was a sound of hammering thunder similar to before For this bird is not on thy chamber door, but yet on my Cabin door The bird looked at me as though it is testing me then it said �Nevermore�! If I were to rest tonight it would be satisfying to see that bird dead in my arms It would be very sweet and unique, so Heaven in thou would grant my charms The raven stared and flapped it wings, only to say �Nevermore�! I was in rage and said �Get thy behind wretched creature stop ye from thy skin�! The bird chuckled and laughed then it said �You disappoint me thou nave�! The bird repeats itself saying �Nevermore�! �Nevermore�! �Nevermore�! Flying around the bird does, for death do it part it must The red robed man try to grab the bird but yet cannot do to his form A ghost the man is, and even he cannot help, for he is torn That damned bird says more, �Lightly, Lanky, Lenore for she would be ignored�. I start to loose focus and then I picked up thy book clenching it like a hammer My time is of the arousing so I must do something quick Again there was a hammering sound of thunder To myself again I have to wonder For a day to be folklore must make me feel old I must go on for this tale must be told Nothing makes me angry then this wretched raven that I shall put to its grave Which behavior must I use for this time I should crave The red robed man said, �Kill! Kill! I say kill thy black bird of witchcraft�! What could I do for this bird is on thy cabin door While I stand and stare at the thy bird my feet stand on thy floor I feel as though thy wretched chance has been stretched For my bold fists have been clenched The birds eyes glowed as though it were to shoot blazing fire It then said �Cecilia! Cecilia! Is she what thy desire�? I pounded thy ground replying back �Raven! Bird! Devilish creature turn back I say�! Again another hammering sound of thunder occurred This is not a matter that I can secure I took thy time and waited for the raven Thoroughly speaking of a witches haven For this bird has derived me and I can speak no more This is not a tale of folklore, but I feel like my veins have tore I have this one chance to strike this raven and strike it well This can be the finale, for it is grand, and it will make me tell I looked to thy ground, for I find nothing to bound This raven again antagonizes me and says �Nevermore�! I jump at thy bird with thy stick in hand I missed thy raven for it is grand �Nevermore�! �Nevermore�! �Nevermore�! Die wretched bird for you will die in vein I heard thy voice from somewhere a sweet and soft voice The voice says � Never give up on thy hope have faith in thy self thy will do the rest�. I smiled and said �Cecilia is that you my dear�? And the voice responds, �Yes! It is I come and together we defeat thy wretched menace�. I felt the light like no other and start to wonder Thy stick became a sword for I said, �I shall defeat thy bird of evil�! The raven said, �Stop! Do not shed thy blood, for it is a sin against thy lord�! I then raised thy sword and said, �Raven! You are nevermore, for it has been told�! The raven splits in two pieces a light sheds down and the deceased raven vanishes Cecilia looks upon me says, �You have done great deed vanquishing thy raven�. Then she says to me �Farewell! For my heart will be go on and be inside of you�. The red robed man stared at me and said �Thank you! Thy kind stranger, for ridding thy bird you are, indeed a great man farewell for we shall watch you from above�. The sun showed its face as I sat on my chair in heavenly grace With pride and joy I lived in thy house for my life was gloom What of my cabin door, thy door is well For I gave one last look at thy spirits and bid them farewell
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Posted - Sun, 16 March 2008 @ 22:46 | |
Posted - Tue, 18 March 2008 @ 19:42 here's another one I could fly high in the sky like a bird screaming soars of jetstreams is what I heard Like a swift draft that is bold These wretched stories are fiendishly told For again and again I am a soldier thats heavenly old | |
Posted - Wed, 19 March 2008 @ 15:54 You are quite the lyricist, Zeon566. My computer won't be back till the 25th! Though I am sure there are a couple of people who have been a bit relieved by my not being able to post as much. I guess I will remain a groupie for a long time. Oh well. It's a good thing Cyberaxe looks good in a gimp suit. |
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