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Mark's Sanctuary; Free admission. For friends only.
Topic Started: Aug 27 2009, 06:00 AM (326 Views)
Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
Here's my work. There's some unfinished, though. Enjoy.

Quote:
 

'Tis a favourite project of mine,
A new value of pi to assign.
I would fix it at 3,
For it's simpler, you see,
Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9


Quote:
 

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.


Quote:
 

Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd,
Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud.
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream,
While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the old Gulf Stream.

I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame;
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price of shame;
But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit craves,
Where the rainbows play in the flying spray,
'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves.

Then it's ho! for the plunging deck of a bark, the hoarse song of the crew,
With never a thought of those we left or what we are going to do;
Nor heed the old ship's burning, but break the shackles of care
And at last be free, on the open sea, with the trade wind in our hair.


Quote:
 

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires - and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings, the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forest were set on fire but hour by hour
They fell and faded and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremolous; and vipers crawl'd
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless, they were slain for food:
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corpse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress, he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies;
They met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath


Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Wich was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and
Each other's aspects. saw, and shriek'd, and died, beheld
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death, a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon their mistress had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them. She was the universe.


Quote:
 

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?

The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.


Quote:
 

Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale,
He ate his egg with a ladle in a egg-cup big as a pail,
And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,
But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine,
"I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink
As if it would wash the stars away as suds go down a sink,
The seven heavens came roaring down for the throats of hell to drink,
And Noah he cocked his eye and said, "It looks like rain, I think,
The water has drowned the Matterhorn as deep as a Mendip mine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
But Noah he sinned, and we have sinned; on tipsy feet we trod,
Till a great big black teetotaller was sent to us for a rod,
And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,
For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God,
And water is on the Bishop's board and the Higher Thinker's shrine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine.


Quote:
 

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream and not make dreams your master;
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


Quote:
 

Now must I these three praise
Three women that have wrought
What joy is in my days:
One because no thought,
Nor those unpassing cares,
No, not in these fifteen
Many-times-troubled years,
Could ever come between
Mind and delighted mind;
And one because her hand
Had strength that could unbind
What none can understand,
What none can have and thrive,
Youth's dreamy load, till she
So changed me that I live
Labouring in ecstasy.
And what of her that took
All till my youth was gone
With scarce a pitying look?
How could I praise that one?
When day begins to break
I count my good and bad,
Being wakeful for her sake,
Remembering what she had,
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart's root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.


Quote:
 

William Butler Yeats - poem

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. 
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
A poem for Malaysia's Independence Day:

Quote:
 

This is the day,
that our nation sings
this is the day,
that the liberty bell starts to ring
this is the day,
we all start to remember
what we stand for
and to celebrate our independence
we stand up high, as we
all start to cry
as we think about,
all that died
for you, for me, for our whole country
risking there life,
each and everyday here's a solute
to all that lay


Quote:
 

Independence to you means parties and plans
Independence to me means sorrow and death
how far the fireworks display flies and spans
so much blood and tears for hope's breath

You see this day as one to frolic and play
but I see a document that some men boldly signed
to host barbecue's and soak in a sun ray
for liberty and justice were they all straightly aligned

This day means nothing to you but pomp and parade
I see liberty, justice, for every man, woman, and child
a flash of fireworks blast through that night's charade
the burning remembrance should be anything but mild

In the end all you see is parties, get together and fun
finally i see fires, war, death and despotism's cruel hand
you only see a founding, you care not how it was won
they stood for you and your parties in their small band

Remember the Father of Independence on the 31st of August, remember their sacrifice for our future...


Quote:
 

We fought hard
we fought long
now you'll hear our freedom song
we're not bragging
we're not mean
sorry to say
its our time to gleam
freedom we wanted
freedom we got
everyones hardships will not soon be forgot
we help you
you help us
time has made us all strong
with a light heart
and happy soul
when its needed
will tear thee apart
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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DigDog
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Pantsman
Quote:
 
Here's my work. There's some unfinished, though. Enjoy.

I don't understand that part.
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Lord Crepe
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Ain't I a cool cat?
I gave my word I would come here and so here I am for a REAL MAN is a man of his word.

I'm no expert at anything so don't take my opinion too seriously.

For starters I'll tell you the same I told SI, titles are your friends, especially since you have quite large chunks of text there. In my humble opinion short poems can work without titles, long poems cannot. Since you haven't put titles you should have numbered them so it's easy to follow or just to comment on one at random. I'll do it in order then.

---------------------------

I and II were fun. I liked those and have nothing special to say. I has quite the unorthodox rhyme structure but it's not a problem.

----------------------------

III is good to but some details bear comment:

"Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd,
Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud.
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream,
While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the old Gulf Stream."

Pining and then later on pine = not good. It's nowhere near enough to ruins things but in poems word repetition in such a short span is to be avoided like the plague unless the repetition is an integral part of the poems structure (for example when you start one of every two verses with the same word) so keep that in mind in the future. Also "the soul may think aloud" ? Meh, I'd go with something of a more lyrical verb to go with the soul but that's just me. No big.



"I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame;
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price of shame;
But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit craves,
Where the rainbows play in the flying spray,
'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves."

Nice, except "nor do I shirk the blame" ? Where's the first negative that leads to that "nor"?

The rest is good, don't see any problems with it.

----------------------------

IV. I'M NOT READING THAT ONE RIGHT NOW THAT THING LASTS FOREVER MAYBE SOME OTHER DAY WHEN I HAVE MORE TIME.
Even without reading it it's clear that one poem that long needs a title immediately.

-----------------------------------

V. Pretty good this one. And I'm sincere when I say that. No further comment necessary. Huzzah.

------------------------------------

VI.
"And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,"

Here it would need to be "THE fish he took" otherwise it's bad grammar so correct that.

"But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,"

Do you mean "the cellar he took THEM TO"? Or it's just an absurd detail and he's actually taking a cellar around? Also, the correct form would be "all were small FOR the cellar". This sentence confuses me, can't say for sure if it's bad grammar or surrealism. Think on it yourself and correct it, or not, depending on what your true meaning is.

"The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink"

If my opinion this would sound much better if it said "heaven's cliff"


"And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,"

What's a PSA? In my mind it's Public Service Announcement but I doubt it's that here.

"For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God,"

Don'like that "because of" it's....inelegant. Can't think what could replace it though, especially since you must not modify the rest of the line. Hmmmm.


This was again really good. I dig the "I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine" thing. Good contrast of grave circumstances and slightly comedic element. Dig the curse of water too. At first the food thing seems misleading in the sense that it lures you to think it will be a poem about funny animals and foods and then it shifts into an apparently completely different gear wih the flood's description and water and so on. Actually it's a setup for the overarching subject is " Noah only cares about his meal in the face of disaster" or something of the sort. The first part and second parts are just variants of the theme depending on specific moment of Noah's story. First part embarkment: he eats animals. Second part: Flood, he drinks wine which contrasts with the water. Plus it's a nice touch for as you must know since you wrote this wine and watered wine have biblical connotations. Blahblah, but you must know all this since I you wrote it, DUH! My do I ramble.

Other than the part I mentioned with the weird possible grammar error this was excellent. Nice job.

-----------------------

And that will be all for today. You're really good, power to you, kudos . Huzzah and so on. I'll be checking ou the rest some other time.
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DigDog
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Pantsman
While I admire your commitment LC, I have to add that Mark is unfamiliar with the term "plagiarism".

I dare to say that none of these poems were made by him.

Because I'm bored I will list the original authors:

#1 is a mathematical limeric you can find on 5k sites via Google

#2 was made by Robert Frost

#3 was made by Eugene O'Neill

#4 by Lord Byron

#5 by Emily Brontë

#6 by Gilbert Keith Chesterton

#7 by Rudyard Kipling

#8 by William Butler Yeats

#9 Oh look, he even forgot to remove the name, it's also by William Butler Yeats


I wouldn't have a problem with quoting poems, but writing "Here's my work. There's some unfinished, though. Enjoy." is pretty impudent.
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
Oh yeah Diggy. For your information, poem #9 has the name of the poet, not because I forgot to remove it, but to honour the poet whose poem has been used liberally in Malaysian textbook.

And "here's my work" refers to the compilation, not the poem itself. Don't get it wrong.

I just love to see what's Lord Crepe's comment on these poems. I'm just plain busy to go through all the poems or make new ones. Thanks for caring though.

Ah, I just noticed that the second poem for Malaysia's Independence Day is not even the tiniest definition of "plagiarism". That's the one special, I guess.
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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DigDog
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Pantsman
Oh, so your "work" consists of copypasting the poems from the internet into this forum?
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
Yes, except for one.

I'll try to make original ones in near future, though.
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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Spanish Inquisition
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Killer Queen
Atleast now I don't feel bad about LC thinking your poetry was excellent and mine okay.

Poetry isn't right or wrong. It's art, a painting with words if you will. Some people will like it, others won't. There's no right or wrong really.

I forgot to add: Mark, if you post someone else's work, it is customary to give THEM credit for it by stating so (adding their name as the writer).
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Lord Crepe
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Ain't I a cool cat?
Great....what a shameful gaffe of me...*sigh* this is what I get for being nice.
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DigDog
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Pantsman
Welcome to life.

Heh, funny. I just found out this forum even has a forum rule against plagiarism. I didn't knew that.
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
I'm so glad I didn't say "poems made by me". And I don't think I will, though.
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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DigDog
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Pantsman
But you do realize that everyone except you thought that you actually made these poems?
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Liveman Ieb
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Something bad happened in Paxia? I did it.
When you start a thread with "here's my work", it usually is taken as "here is material that I made myself".
Quote:
 
Goro was admitted to the hospital after the incident, and was pronounced paralyzed from the neck down. In 2016, he was outfitted with a prototype robotic replacement body. He quickly conquered the world through superior firepower.

All hail our robotic overlord, King of the World, Gorobei.
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
I guess I've learnt something:

Vagueness is DANGEROUS.
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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DigDog
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Pantsman
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No, it's the fact you copy and pasted a bunch of poems and called them your work.
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Spanish Inquisition
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Killer Queen
Thank you Mr. Two weeks later.
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DigDog
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Pantsman
Don't make fun of him because he's slow.

No, I don't mean his physical speed.
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Mark Chung
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ULTIMATE DOOM MOGLINMASTER!
Meanie.
Let it spin, let it spin, let it spin...
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Liveman Ieb
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Something bad happened in Paxia? I did it.
But 2 weeks is rather fast in Hive-frequency.

2 months is a tad slow.

A year is slow.

Two years, "what".
Quote:
 
Goro was admitted to the hospital after the incident, and was pronounced paralyzed from the neck down. In 2016, he was outfitted with a prototype robotic replacement body. He quickly conquered the world through superior firepower.

All hail our robotic overlord, King of the World, Gorobei.
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DigDog
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Pantsman
That means Mark was pretty fast with his "Meanie" reply one month later.
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Liveman Ieb
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Something bad happened in Paxia? I did it.
Debatably so.
Quote:
 
Goro was admitted to the hospital after the incident, and was pronounced paralyzed from the neck down. In 2016, he was outfitted with a prototype robotic replacement body. He quickly conquered the world through superior firepower.

All hail our robotic overlord, King of the World, Gorobei.
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