Okay I’m coming out of the closet with my extraordinary nerd-i-ness. I’m a gamer, but not a gamer in the really cool RPG sense but more in the Simulation sense, sometimes I get addicted to the nerdiest of games, but I recently found a new game that is really different, hard and just taking it’s baby steps into the world. It’s a game about evolution over time (lots of it) you grow from the Stone Age to Present time. I find it cool, you may not, but it’s worth a look.
Post modernism
Semi-viscous matter,
unsure of the state it stands.
Fluid, then abrupt,
obstinate and yielding.
Contradicting contradictions.
Breaking down walls.
Building shields out of
cellophane.
Nothing stands straight,
everything slouches.
Shoulders shrug indignantly,
Caring of it’s carelessness.
It stands for everything,
While justifying nothing.
Love everybody,
hate no body.
Never disagree,
peace, love, unity.
Minds of loose leaf.
Blank. But for lines
waiting to be filled.
Written by Candice
I wrote this poem for a class so the format is a little different than most of my work but see if you can figure it out.
The Sword
Hark but my sword, love, see this now.
It is likened to me as much as God allows.
In it holds power, which I wield with skill,
With only a flash, I move in for the kill.
Those fairer and meeker look at it with lust,
But only with man did it’s power God trust.
Their hands reach out, fingers of envy
Ah, but true power isn’t for many,
Though they yearn hopelessly.
The strength in the steel, this sinewy knife,
Tears out the heart, with the same stroke gives life.
Why should I sheath it in something not flesh?
Swords are just metal, unless blood and steel mesh.
My skill is so great, weak run into my blade.
Pride only heightens, as each of them fade.
Many impaled at just the tip,
Wounds fresh as rosy lips
From them I see moisture drip.
Those whom I chose will die many deaths,
The honor of my sword, heightens their breaths.
O, I yearn to meet myself in my glory
What luck! By my sword, for those it makes gory.
