Music and Poetry - What do ya got?

[Xtreme TACTICS 101]

Hey everybody,

I know the 405th is primarily for costuming, however I’m sure that in this mass of artistic talent there are some poets and musicians. I personally write my own music, and as a result, poetry.

So, if anybody feels like contributing a bit of their own works of poetic and musical art, feel free to do so in this thread. I’m sure that it may serve as a form of inspiration to another member to continue their own work weather it be music, poetry, or even costuming.

I’ll start by posting one of my own poems that I wrote recently. It ties into the Afghanistan and Iraq conflict to an extent as I typically like to write about current events on the news so people who read my work can relate to it in a way. Hopefully you enjoy it, and feel free to constructively criticize it.

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

Conflict

Though our kevlar vests are shattered
And our ammunition low
We shall fight to our last breath
Ensuring we cast the final blow

Although our victory is not certain
Regardless we'll leave our mark
As those who fought brave and true
Repressing terror to a dying spark

With casings flying high and low
And bullets striking their marks
We proudly proclaim to this day
Our victory is worth the price

Although our guns may never be silenced
As wars continue to rage
For those who died the war has ended
Their spirits forever un-caged

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It’s no Homer’s Iliad or Odyssey, but I believe it’s a decent start.

If you would like to offer any constructive criticism to an individuals work please do so, but only if they ask for it.

Also, no excessive violence or explicit content should be posted. Keep it PG / PG:13 everybody.

Let’s see what you guys and galls can come up with…

Stay frosty,

Jake
Xtreme TACTICS 101

 

[rundown]

deep in the heart of autumn
were silent spaces for fifty
of the ones that need no name

from this celestial bough
all but one did fall into
the pitiless fires of reach

a soldier's ignominy
to have dreamt while brothers bled

but oh, for the rest of us
his shame was our salvation


- unknown author, late 26th century

Found this a wile ago, halo related though. I kinda like it.

 

[Ithica]

I actually have a published book of poetry after my first tour during the War. It is called Chamber of Thoughts. Here are a couple Poems from it.

COLD TOUCH​

​

A cold touch on my shoulder, I turned to see the floor​

I tried to understand; now I face a closed door​

Locked by the only key in my mind lost in confusion​

Blinded by what I wanted to see, a self created delusion​

Reality is perception and my perception is tainted​

Like an abstract still life my views hopelessly painted​

Help from this destructive way of life is what I require​

Daily I face the hate and fear dancing in a ring of fire​

Death rings its bell and I surely must face my fate alone​

Where have I gone, am I decaying or have I grown​

Here all the answers and salvation I seek I will find​

I’ve learned growing in years is not growing in mind​

A cold touch on my shoulder, I turned to see the floor​

I tried to understand; I finally unlocked the door​

SORROWS OF A SOLDIER​

​

A child looks at me with confusion on his face.​

Thankful yet angry that I am here in this place.​

His father was a great soldier and a great man.​

Now the child reaches for me to take his hand.​

“You came here to help us so you can’t be that bad?”​

How can I forgive myself for I am the one who killed his dad!​

MASTER​

​

Sitting, watching the illumination in an endless sky.​

Glancing at a cloud thinking of you as time passes me by.​

A never ending cycle that will not end.​

I do this for my family, but in the long run their hearts I must mend.​

“Daddy must not love me, he doesn’t care, and he leaves me behind!”​

Laying at night my mind flooded, searching for something I can’t find.​

She is alone so many times with the weight of the world on her shoulders.​

Baby this is for us why I live the life of a soldier.​

A life of happiness and love is what I try to give.​

All in vane because alone is not how they want to live.​

They have needs and desires that I am not there to fulfill.​

The thought of losing them enters as the tears start to spill.​

Now I understand as I sit and watch the bird as it flies.​

I am the master of my own demise.​

​

Please feel free to leave comments.

Ithica

 

[Cirkob5477]

That "Sorrows of a Soldier" poem is really sad....

I'm not that much of a poem guy, but I'm good with words... and the ladies :cool

 

[Toacrabman]

I only write either really cool, or really funny stuff, this one i more funny.

"He is our medic, and our sniper,
He kills with surgical precision."

 

[Omega Ravager]

Madness of the Only One

Every day a heart is dreaming of a thirst throughout unending
Always living without redemption
Always this, no, never ending
Dreams of life that has been lost
In the darkness far across
Screaming out in last reaction, as the one, it feels no pain
The madness of the night is growing
Always from it’s brain is flowing, as the dark, it’s ever growing
Cross the road a car comes veering
Headlights through the night are peering
As they break into the night
Upon it’s last uncovered flight
Here the soul cries out in passion, of the hatred of inaction
And Earth it wears and hearts it tears
Bleeding, torn, by beastly bears
So the artwork now is ending
So the time comes gently bending
Out the souls of greed and envy
For this madness passes by, but still the heart it cannot fly
For the soul leaves it to die
And in this night I do not cry
-------------------------------------------------------------​

A little something I wrote about being lonely (and depressed), and of feeling like a single individual standing out against the rest of the world for my beliefs some days. . .

(written at approximately 3 am)
Not a poetry guy at all, but this was an outpouring of my soul. . .

Hope you enjoy it.

 

[ventrue]

You don't read, read, read and read
Then, when you try it, sweat and bleed
Cut out for what feels like ages
Get sensitised to solvent agents
Paint it up in countless hours
Decorate with light red flowers
Get beat up in some assault
and in the end
it's our fault.

Written at 6am! Ha! ;-)

 

[Sangheili811]

Your work is impressive, Ithica. Bravo!

I don't make a habit of writing poetry, but when an academic assignment calls for it, I'm think I'm decent, anyway.

As a gearhead, derelict old vehicles always strike a chord with me. I wish their fate was always as happy as in this poem, but sadly, that's largely not the case.

If the Old Truck Could Talk

I wait in back of my old owner’s shed –
A derelict truck, given up, left for dead.
Today I remember (though it is hard)
When I coughed to my last stop in the old man’s backyard.

The cost to move me is too much for my master,
And to try and repair me is a certain disaster.
So I wait here as weeds tether me to the ground,
And corrosive rainwater turns my white paint to brown.

I wait here for something little more than a dream –
That, in me, some potential a buyer might see.
My master is trying to sell me to someone.
The metal scrap merchant – I hope he’s not the one!

But the metal man comes, and I look in his eyes.
They are an owl’s: cold, hard, and wise.
He looks at my dents and my bent cooling fan,
And I shudder at the fate awaiting me with this man.

“Sure, I’ll take it– ” says the metal scrap merchant,
“–next week. I have collections that are much more urgent.”
Next week – that’s bad, but at least not too late
For someone to save me from my melted-down fate!

And then next morning, to my gleeful surprise,
A young man appears with a fresh look in his eyes.
He studies my condition, from dashboard to tire,
And knows, with his help, my pistons will fire.

He hasn’t much money, but that doesn’t matter –
My master doesn’t care if I’m fixed up or shattered.
So he pays him the money and calls in a tow truck.
As it backs up before me, I can’t believe my good luck!

And with a glad heart, I’m connected to the cable,
And, like an old racehorse, I’m towed out of my stable –
Off down the road, with my new home before me –
And grateful you’ve listened to this rust-bucket’s story!

I've written others, but I think that's my best.