Abandoned Forum

[Bomadeno]

This isn't really a poem, or anything, just a thing i wrote on my phone once, and, thats its life story really. Well, it has a reason and st00f, tub thats another story altogther.

Across eternity the clash of two souls echoes, resounding through time and removing distance, and as the sun sets, those souls sing.

[Pimienta]

that is lovely

I want to hear the other story

[Bomadeno]

Well, the other story isn't finished yet... or come to a point where it can be clearly told. Tub when it has, I shall most likely tell it.

[nil]

It sounds as good as a poem...

[punk04]

lol

[Bomadeno]

Thanks, tub I still refuse to call it a poem

And still, I cannot tell its story underneath, as it is yet to be completed.

[Bomadeno]

On a semi related note, heres a story I wrote...


Somewhere, under a cold barren sky, the rain was falling on a database system. Nobody was sure how it ended up there, but most likely, the reason was that its creator got bored, and decided it was time to leave it. It left it in a tall, walled fort, where no one would be able to help it. Every day it woke up to the cracked limestone walls, knowing that its destiny was not a joyous one. It would wake up to the same routine every day, it would stand up, painfully, like its legs had been damaged by some intangible force, and drag its rotting corpse towards the shattered basin that provided the murky yellowing water upon which it managed to cling to life.

The fort had no roof to protect its prisoners from the brutal elements, only leviathan walls to protect the world from its contents, and thus the rain fell upon that one inside without remorse, saturating the creature’s clothes, and making its existence continually damp.

Today, something was different in those walls, something amiss. As the creature pulled itself over to the basin set into the wall, its face registered a look of surprise, when it found that the dank trickle of water was not there. After pawing at the wall for what seemed like a lifetime, the creature found no more than a few drops of water, and swallowed them down quickly before they evaporated in what was, somewhat ironically today, a full sun that made the smells within the walls rise, and the lips of the creature parched and dry. With resignation, the creature realised that its life source had gone; the one consistent thing in its life vanished, leaving only a mouldy stain where its once bountiful flow of muddy, polluted water had once flowed.

As it dragged itself to the shade, the creature thought many thoughts. It thought about its life before it had been entrapped within these stone walls, this prison of gothic masonry. It thought of when the water had flowed pure from the stream running through its lands, and how the land had been damaged and scarred by the trials of time, nature, and, worst of all, its own kin. As it thought of this, it saw a small tree it had never noticed before, growing in the far corner of the enclosure. The tree was had pure white bark, interlaced with blue and green fibres, that seemed to twist and contort from under the eyes gaze. It stood in stark contrast to the barren land that it grew out of; it did not have the cracks, the mould and look of disrespect that its surroundings bared, all standing, seemingly proud of their mutilated appearance. Nevertheless, the tree stood quietly, not proud nor vain, it merely stood there, casting a gentle shade over the desolate ground. The creature, in what it felt like fear and apprehension, approached the tree slowly, and as gracefully as its wrecked body would allow. The nearer it got to the tree, the more comforted it felt, as if the tree was offering it consolation from the world that surrounded it.

Indeed, the tree seemed to emanate a glow that permeated its surroundings and gave them life, and so the creature continued to approach. The closer it got to the tree, the more comfortable it felt, and the happier its tormented soul felt. The creature, standing tall now, reached the trees shade, embraced its cool, reassuring shadows, and leant its weight and troubles upon the smooth bark. As the creature was coming to a rest, truly happy for the first time in its memory, it was suddenly thrown back by a wave of defence, thrown back out into the glare of the unforgiving sun. Stunned, but still content, the beast dragged itself back into the shade, and again tried to rest upon the tree, to take solace from it, and draw from its life force to provide its own. Again, the tree threw it backwards into the glaring sun, back under the gaze of the glowing, pulsing orb of light and unbearable heat. Realising that it could not yet get so close to the tree, the beast pulled itself into the shadows, and curled up there, happy with what was better than his dusty lifeless bed all his past life. However, the allure of the tree’s cool bark again proved to be too great, and the creature again tried to draw close to it. Again, the creature was repulsed and thrown into the daylight, dust in its eyes and grazes on its elbows.

Turning, the creature looked again upon the tree, and realised that it could never be happy knowing it existed, but not being allowed to draw close and drink from its fountain of life, and so instead decided to erect walls of stone much like his own, around the tree, to prevent him from knowing it was there. And so, that night, when the sun had set, and the temperature was tolerable, the beast set about gathering all the materials it could find within the walls enclosure, and started building the wall.

He toiled through the night, regardless of the midges and other small creatures that were trying to draw their own life from him, and built the wall high, until not even the tallest branches of the tree could be seen. Forlorn, the creature turned, and dragged itself over to its bed of dust and ash, and rested its head once more upon its own arm, uncomfortable, forlorn and lost, the creature waited for the bliss of sleep to descend upon it, and take its troubles, to give them to the stars that watched over their child continuously, caring, forgiving, steadfast.

[Pimienta]

that was lovely

well a bit sad but still a good story

[Bomadeno]

Thankee, its quite a meaningful sotry - at least it was earlier this week, it would be slightly different now.

[Bomadeno]

I'm just sticking all i write in here now...


Every thought I take, a reminder of you, not bad, but sometimes painful, sometimes cruel, every yellow car, every person with wonky glasses, hair blown by the wind, smelling of whatsoever it is that you smell of, that smell catches me most, turns me round as I walk, and in my hand I imagine yours, I gasp for air, grasp the air where your hand never was and wish, wish it was there.

[Astarte]

Across eternity the clash of two souls echoes, resounding through time and removing distance, and as the sun sets, those souls sing.

It reminds me of a Haiku, although it isn't one. And it is lovely!


I found this Haiku at: http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/#computers



alone, on the web,
drops of sensitivity
embrace an eyelash - Chris Spruck

I think the delicate use of words is similar to your own. Isn't it strange how just a few words speak absolutely volumes?

[Bomadeno]

Its kind of like a whisp of smoke, the words of those haiku's just tickle your mind, very dreamlike.


In a continuation of attempted plooky creativity:

Burning thoughts,
Wandering gale of passion,
Tearing through me oh so gently,
Protect me from my mind

[Astarte]

You have a lot of good work here Bomadena and a computer smartie like yourself should have no problems in whipping it over to the Inkwell....




^ Mr Bomadena says "HI!" to the Hamster Inkwell!

[nowhere man]

I don't have time to read the second one ( i will later of course) but i realy did like the first one. It should be a refigerator magnet