Hall of Inspirations 2005

last SG · 2005-04-04T21:51:37+00:00

By peebrain posted on 22 December 2005 the faces of god My god is never your God never is a personification of something impersonal like dull newsprint tra...

DeadPoet SG

REFRESH BUTTON

Am I mad, or does the Muse call out to me?
Don't you hear her? Don't you hear her
in the rustling leaves, in the wind's soft voice,
in the water's laughter? Don't you hear her?

If this is madness, let me go insane!
Let me go in search of her, calling out
to the bright sky: descend, singing goddess,
descend! Bring us your immortal music:

the sound of flutes playing like wind
over bending grass, the sound of strings
plucked like sudden sunshine, the clear bell
of your voice thrilling through the world.

from The Odes of Horace

The Muses are the nine daughters of Mnemosyne, Memory the expression through the arts of humankind's deepest memories and visions. Each Muse gives the gift of inspiration in a particular artform. Often depicted as accompanied by Apollo, who represents discipline and application of the arts, the Muses thus offer both the first spark of creativity and the focus to see it through to completion.

The Muses are:

Calliope, epic or heroic poetry
Clio, history
Erato, love poetry and flute-playing
Euterpe, lyric poetry and lyre-playing
Melpomene, tragedy
Polyhymnia, sacred music and dance
Terpsichore, choral music and dance
Thalia, comedy and idyllic poetry
Urania, astronomy and cosmological poetry

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THE POETS CONNECTION 2004

MetalGear First poet to post in DPS (S) on 1st February 2004 · 05:27 PM and retired Moderator of DPS (S)
Dead Poet Current Moderator of DPS (S)
True_Xerion Winner of DPS (S) 1st Poetry Writing Competition
the_don
the Bear Judge of DPS (S) 1st and 2nd Poetry Writing Competition
ratinacage
Devil1976
KittynMeow Current Moderator of DPS (S) and Judge of DPS (S) 1st and 2nd Poetry Writing Competition
[email protected]
Jda
oceanic
AdAptAlis
En
[email protected]
archdoinky
GwenSilvz
MoonIce
Hocklez
xking
shifeng
tare Current Moderator of DPS (S), Winner of DPS (S) 1st and 3rd Poetry Writing Competition and Judge of DPS (S) 2nd Poetry Writing Competition
weidev
LazerLordz Current Moderator of DPS (S) and Judge of DPS (S) 2nd and 3rd Poetry Writing Competition
hell_jul
poetic_soul
gay boy
pipi & poot-poot Winner of DPS (S) 2nd Poetry Writing Competition, and Judge of DPS (S) 3rd Poetry Writing Competition
serash
ratslen Winner of DPS (S) 2nd Poetry Writing Competition
jusgal
Asfi_Kay
heavenTears
foxwalk
skeujin
I_am_PeTe_Parker
Master -__- Winner of 4th DPS (S) Poetry Writing Competition (Open Category)
sillyme
King Utter
Origami
Ito_^
asplooh
Otingocni
jolin80
LeftBallBigger
fallin
eskyhastofall
fudgester
SingaporeMacross
cutepixie
O'ren
Crystal_Dumpling
Nelstar Judge of DPS (S) 3rd Poetry Writing Competition
Tragic Clown
choco B
leong_tx
fonts
_Aaron_
Daemon's Quill
ironoxideman
OrpheusRegret

We have 60 poets in 2004 Very Happy

The other two judges of DPS (S) 1st Poetry Writing Competition

jOhO
Yunhaier

THE POETS CONNECTION 2005

spaded First poet to post in DPS (S) on 1st January 2005 · 07:15 PM
care bear
fabioxiv a.k.a. sammy
droopyeyes
Rhonda
Gerald T Seah
salty_businezz
Alexander_Jude
The man who was death
phanta5y
dsnake1 4th DPS (S) Poetry Writing Competition (Judge's Choice - Gilbert Koh)
FireIce
F.O.S
dragg
RaTtY81
DriftingGuy
BigDaddyCool
Rockhound
Othello_Red
SilverRevo
ShrodingersCat
panicTheory
Kimosabe
Bluesky_Liz
preya
delonicdevil
darkprince88
Xiao Jun Winner of 4th DPS (S) Poetry Writing Competition (Open Category)
peebrain

P.S. THIS IS A VIEW ONLY' THREAD Very Happy

DeadPoet SG

By Daemon's Quill posted on 1st January 2005

2005

Two thousands and five ones,
There are many things that everyone wants.
The fifth year of the twenty first century,
And two thousand and four became history.

Yet the nightmares of yesterday was still fresh,
Like a thorn in everyone's flesh.
The rumbling of the tectonic plates,
And the destructive waves that wrecked the coastal states.

Sorrows and pains that many had shared,
Donations and charity to victims by people who cared.
Too little time to celebrate the joys but too many tears,
Too little enjoyment to take away our fears.

Let's hope for a little miracle for all,
If there was a god that he will heed our call.
A better year in two thousand and five,
And also for everyone, a better life.

DeadPoet SG

By spaded posted on 1st January 2004

Creatures called Humans

We're like mice
No better than lice
Slogging in our lives
Just to earn some rice

Seven sins we commit
But nobody forbids
We all have bad habits
But nobody gets rid

Everyone wants pleasure
And makes it seem so casual
Men get the gain
Women take the pain

Sometimes we will cry
Some may want to die
But hey, this is life
So try to make it fine!

DeadPoet SG

By spaded posted on 1 January 2005

Forgotten Friend

Withered roses
By the window
I sat there
Like a widow

I remember
Our past
So beautiful
And young

I wouldn't forget
Never will I
Our summers
And our laughter

I really hope
You do remember
All the fun we had
Until you left

Where are you now?
I'm so lonely
I waited for years
But you never came back

One day
If you recall
I'm your teddy
Your forgotten friend

DeadPoet SG

By LazerLordz posted on 2nd January 2005

Here Lies a Lion...Dead

Inky nights sleep like dust
gathered on the mantelpiece of
my youth, my former playpen
which seemed a dream
but now is a cage
of padded spikes
and unfeeling caregivers.

The immaculate roads snake with
a purpose known
only to those who see the plans;
which wizened warlocks
have crafted in their
exceptional cranial
spaces.
You never really leave
for it merely takes you from
one place to another
while the tar snake
grows unsatisfied
crushing the little
unyielding wildflowers.

When I turned on that box
of packaged information,
all dolled up and sugared,
my soul's liver took a jolt
of emotional diabetes.
Somehow the masquerade
was a wafting smell
of dead ideas and
dying lions,
all embalmed with the garish
pink and wanton gold
of funerals.
But this was not for any human,
but a lion whose collar has begun
its deadly silk
strangulation.

DeadPoet SG

By care bear posted on 4th January 2005

NOTHING

There was nothing in the Garden last night,
and unless I'm losing my sight,
there was nothing again this morning.
It must have been there ALL night.

Its hard to see a Nothing,
or even where its been,
This was the longest Nothing I've ever ever seen.

I locked all the drink in the cupboard
so no Nothing could get to the gin
but by some o'clock in the morning
something had got in!!

I bolted the doors and windows
so nothing could escape.
in the dead of night I quickly called my sgforum mates
who came armed top to toe
with helmet and cape...

"We heard you had a break - in
and might have lost something,
can you describe
the intruder" they said

Well yes...its hard to explain, it was quite a pain
it lasted the whole night through,
but now that you are here its cool...

I guess it was just a big Nothing

DeadPoet SG

By care bear posted on 4th January 2005

The Blossom in Waiting....

the blossom in waiting....
sways in the breeze ever so gently....
it bends to us just so kindly
to show us its glory......

its petals are opened oh so softly...
and it blushes very sweetly
sharing with us its quiet beauty...

it will pass to nothing quickly...
but for now it is still pretty
and it holds on stongly....

for its dragonfly

DeadPoet SG

By Daemon's Quill posted on 20th January 2005

Never meant to be

We were never meant to be
When in your heart there is no space for me
You were everything but a million miles away
Will you beckon me to stay?

So I cried and tears eventually followed
To take you out and have that space in my heart hollowed
Melting every memory of you from the day we part
To leave myself with an empty heart

Yet a shard of ice still pricks my soul
That lies deep in my flesh leaving me cold
I shy away from your shadow to keep myself sane
But fate keep bringing me back to this narrow lane

Though I saw you again after such a long time
Our friendship was already past our prime
I bidded goodbye but you couldn't hear
We are so far yet so near

Someone had already replaced you on my mind
Yet I still hope our friendship will rewind
Even though we were never meant for each other
We can still be friends together

DeadPoet SG

By [email protected] posted on 30th January 2005

Alienation

Swirls of water, cold and blue,
Rush against weary battered hull.
Lone ship in the vast vast sea,
A speck of light in the dark loneliness.

Ahoy, what is there, a pinprick of light,
Could it be another ship alone like us?
We've not had another soul in sight,
It would be nice to meet one tonight.

A signal is flashed, a reply is given,
The other ship draws near.
As she pulls up alongside,
Men on both sides heartily cheer.

It's been a boon, we've had no company for months,
We can sail together, the loneliness is not fun.
Both Captains have some rum and a friendship is sealed,
Both crews feasts into the night, nobody knew.

For days and months, both ships sailed together,
Glad for the friendship on the cold dark seas.
It provided a warmth to the soul of the lonely,
And comforted men in times of crisis.

But slowly, a terrible change begin to happen,
An alien change came over men on the other ship.
Their eyes glazed over and they became pale,
It looked like death himself had marked those men.

The men on the healthy ship looked on in horror,
As their newfound friend turned into a zombie ship.
Their Captain, with a heavy heart,
Let out the order to alter course and separate.

I only wanted to be friends, more if I could,
If not, happy to remain friends if I should.
Yet I have not drifted away without reason,
It is your alienation that has made me gone.

DeadPoet SG

By LazerLordz posted on 24th January 2005

Never yield before the wind

When the wind is cold and dark
and the beasts surround you
like the ravenous feasting of vultures
and the sky is dark like the evil
of our world unsurpassed..
Fear not my brave paladin,
my standard bearer of yore
now affixed with the armor
of the new, and the soul of the few.

There will come a time
where your burnished gun
will be raised in defence of the few
who chose to stand with you
against the tide of unspeakable acts
all unhindered and unheralded.
As Durendal was the right hand of Roland
now a plasma powered weapon of mystical might
shares your soul.

Wield this into battle,
and when the night falls
around you and covers you
God be with you brave Marine,
for you bleed for freedom
and for humanity unclothed
like a fragile baby.

Stand tall upon the wall
and may your diamond lance scythe
the ones who would ruin this world
into the despondancy of defeat.
Be strong,never yield before the wind,
And if you find yourself alone,
riding through green fields
with the sun on your face,
O not be troubled,
for you are in
Heaven,
and are already dead.

Let the last bolt fly,
the last warhead explode
into a flower of a million stars
and fear not,
for what you have done in life
will be echoed throughout eternity.

DeadPoet SG

Posted by fabioxiv a.k.a. sammy on 30th January 2005

My Advocates' Complains

Tell me something my man
what is it with you these days;
you have doubts more than the grains of sand,
more than the hellish scorching glints of ray,
more than the mortals on this rotting land
or the autumn leaves that withers away;
more than all the crows in my orchestra band,
more than the elves in the Enchanted Woods far, faraway...

Doubts? On what?
Have I not let you into my abyss-deep cellars,
or peer into my darkest chamber?
Have I not let you take the reins on my mind's pillars
and cast all the others asunder?
Have I not jolly well fool around with you in your parlor,
or ride with you on the highways of meander?
Doubts? I doubt so...

Well, you see not what everyone here observes;
Your train of thoughts've gone real askew,
very much getting on our nerves;
Really, your misdeeds are not few,
and such treatment is not what we deserve;
think of how we refresh you daily like morning dew,
how you have had divinely exciting times in our turf
where everyday's joyous thrills are new...

So I see what you mean my dear advocate;
it's not that I'm shunning you or anything of that nature.
Just that things have somewhat complicate,
or rather simplify this mystifying, abstract picture
which I have painstakingly perused for so long my mate...
for in it lies the exceedingly crucial juncture
where I can find the trident key to abate
the raging storms that my mind's agendas so perpetually feature...

Well then, however disappointed we may be,
keep in mind we're always there,
faithfully standing by in the deepest, coldest valley
ever ready with our concern and care;
with lanterns that never burns out easily
to light your path and expose the craftiest snare;
for whatever you desire, we aim to fulfill readily,
for whatever you want destroyed, there's nothing we won't dare...

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Christina

Wish I could, if I have again the chance
to sit in the same old chair,
with my mind in a dance
when out of the blue she came to me
with a beam on her face so lovely
into my hands she shoved a piece of paper
an ad from a journal it was, for me to ponder
"I know you love to write...
it's a small writing school
looking for people to groom, pretty cool"
"Er...oh, yep, gosh...thanks, really,"
was only what I could mumble
darn I wish I had killed myself for that fumble.
Well, that was just an instant of many others
in which I did not dare to express much either
call me a fool, I would not protest;
instead, I pretty much detest
myself for being such a coward,
never dare to take a step forward...
Anyway, it's all too late to say anything now
for no shrub can be reaped
from a land not plowed
no autumn leaves sailing in the wind
would ever stop and turn
no wet embers can once more start to burn
I can only keep her
in this secret closet in my heart
of which I hold not to fall apart,
and wish her well in her blissful marriage life
I wish her love , to live and thrive
though my fire for her I shall always keep alive...

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That will be the day...

That will be the day,
when the moon shines no longer the intoxicating light
when the birds' chirping becomes an irk
when sunrise is no longer a beautiful sight
when Spring resigns from his routine shift work

That will be the day,
when the rainbow no longer bends a classic arc
when the waters of the stream gush so erratically
when no leaves dance no more in the lushy greeny park
when there lovers loathe to cuddle so intimately

That will be the day,
when my heart flutters no longer at the your smile so lovely
when my ear tingles not a bit at your whisper
when my chest warms not when there your head rests so cosily
when my pale face flushes not as I let it your ebony smother

That will be the day...
that I say I don't love you...

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The Muahaha Song

There's this little imp called Tralala
bouncing here and there singing a looney song
this song he named Muahaha
yes, the looney Muahaha song...

So here's how it goes...

"Muahaha i go, as i see the guy in the Hugo Boss suit
swaggering down Shenton Way,
his haughty eyes hint of his pride in his pursuit,
that meaningless pursuit of a so-called Elite Way;

Muahaha i go, as i bump into this chick so voluptuous,
all glitters of Tiffany's, her ivory arm clutching the renowned checkered bag;
but like a supposed-to-be masterpiece ruined by an error so preposterous
her other arm's around a confounded, lascivious old hag;

Muahaha i go, as i overhear these four single ladies bantering
of the hunks they drool over and dream about
of men they need not, they concur though, so firmly
when intense yearnings harbor in those lonely hearts, no doubt;

Muahaha i go, as i see the pompous yuppie
lavishly spending on designer brands and classy dinners
so wanting of respect with his cheapened money
bah, those cheapened money from his forefathers.

So there goes Tralala,
bouncing along
happily singing his Muahaha song...

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the tramp

the wretched tramp, slowly he trudges
in the muddy path to NoWhere Land
his tattered trench coat so artistically fudged
it accentuates his story-telling tan
he drags his feet forward as such
like a leaking, blotching manuscript pen
many a times he stops to sigh
wondering when his journey'll end
he looks at the eagles soaring high
to fly he wishes he really can
each step he takes, some pieces of him die
like the colors that fades at the rainbow end
how he wished of his sorrows he could cry
but his eyes're as dry as Sahara's sand
how he wished he could just drop dead and die
but his life's not his own, he knows his stand
O lonely tramp O wretched tramp
why does he live on so wearily
why does he drag his feet on anyway
he knows not what's it to be happy
he can never fathom the meaning of gay
he will never know of peace and harmony
of love and tenderness there's no need to say
but relentless angst and agony
shall always paint his skies so gray
woes and blues are his company
warmth and tenderness keep him at bay
the devils spite him with sarcasm and mockery
the angels from him with disgust shun away
there's no meaning in this life anymore
ah, anyway there may not be any before
like a sailor overboard who'll never see the shore
like a trapped child who can never find the door
his future will be bleak and unsure
there'll always be much to endure
so very much to endure
endure...

DeadPoet SG

By droopyeyes posted on 1st February 2005

if tears can speak my thoughts,
i am never a quiet person by nature.

times and times i see you there,
but have you ever look up and acknowledge my presence?

i yearn for the care you've showered for others,
no doubt you will not do the same for me.

forever i will not wait,
eternity is what i'll do.

Happy Birthday to DPS! First poem contributed to DPS as a present Very Happy

DeadPoet SG

By Rhonda posted on 3rd February 2005

Standing by the open window she weeps
Cold wind slashing her mercilessly
Streams of moonlight gushing right through
Illuminating her tears...

Broken shards of her dreams
Shatter all around
Fresh wounds, old scars
No ending
Hurts deep...
Deep...

DeadPoet SG

By LazerLordz posted on 2 February 2005

Hunting the Devil

Sometimes I look back
and I see the fleeing man
running his lungs out
barely cognizant of his climate
as if Lucifer was at his tail,
demanding payment wrought
of greed and humanity.

Sometimes, I see you in Imperial Rome
Alexandria and Constantinople
a Hyksos princess or a Byzantine harem-girl
who is not who she seems.
Everytime my feet step near
the dwelling place where
you have made holy
you vanish.

I see you in the shells
that bury my feet in My Lai,
the metal that sears my black buddy
into a pale ghost
and a Jell-O eternity of his mind.
You have been there
everytime those rockers saluted
your name
yet you did not care
for you had a grander design

And I saw your masterpiece
when the concrete fell like bullets
and fire consumed above itself
your cackling heard for eons
but as I stood there
mottled in the colours of
my earthly army
i swore that you
will
not
have
my soul
nor the one I have chased
for years.

She was killed
the day the Sun shone
on the fields of Auchswitz.
and little poppies grew
as rebels against your cause.

DeadPoet SG

By Gerald T Seah posted on 7 February 2005

Cleaning Signboard

A little beacon announces to the world
- the danger to all so bold
on the perils beyond its hold.

Like a little pimple all told
except to those beyond the world
it reminds the reckless and unwary of Cleaning in progress.

From avenues titanic to commodes modest,
it stands an unsung hero and guardian to all
from the awaiting slippery floors.

©2005 Gerald T Seah

DeadPoet SG

By Daemon's Quill posted on 1 February 2005

Will you wake me up tomorrow?

Time has slipped
Beyond my grasp
Into the distance
Away from me
Will you listen
To my plea
Wake me up
Tomorrow?

Time has passed
Ages from now
Into the future
Beyond my knowledge
Will you understand
My sorrowful woe
Will you please
Wake me up?

Time has ticked
Without a halt
How am I
Going to stop
Can you help
Waking me up
From this dream
This horrible nightmare.

Time has ran
Far too fast
Years had flown
Without my consent
Will you try
Even a little
Wake me up
Before too late.

DeadPoet SG

By salty_businezz posted on 13 February 2005

Clubbing

feeling estacsy high,
letting my soul fly high.
moving lights,
flashing bright,
shaking to the sound of the night.
legs swing wild,
hands high up,
enjoying the sensation,
cloud nine.
gulping down,
concoctions of desire,
in tune with spirits of the night.
Fantasy?
or reality?
sober mind we are not in.
savouring the excitment,
grew,
and grew it did.
never cease,
never fade.
and when it did,
so did the rhytmn.
rhytmn of the night.

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In the game of love

selfish is what i am known to you,
but it never cross my mind before.
you placed your importance above all,including the me,
you claimed you loved the most.
The words i said is not what i meant,
yet took it to heart you did.
temptation is luring me,
in times i felt defeated,
in my heart u soared,
making it difficult to forsake you for it.
i longed u so,
but is that true?
or loneliness make me do.
am i the one?
or are you the one?
pondering in my mind it did.
struggling against how i really felt.
in time i hope,
winter will turn spring.
melting my doubts as ice turns river.
for that time to come,
i really yearned

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Actually

Devil's a plan(.)
Hell's a place(.)

Heaven is fair(?)
Angels are saints(Mostly)

Holy's pure(.)
Evil beware(!)

What are we(?)
Pawns of them(.)

Actually Yes(?)
Actually No(.)

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

Promises

"Gods may die",

"Sea shall dry",

"My love for you,"

"Will never die."

Streamed my blood,
Warmed my heart.

All is heard.
None is done.

Words like this,
Doubt my heart.

Scribbled on sand,
it is not?
Carved from rocks,
i think not.

Gone with the waves.
Gone with the wind.

Perish to void...
I whispered: "Jerk"

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Mary

Mary had a little lamb,
Shear the wool she needs to do.

Colour white not her like,
One whole lamb become two.

Wool is dyed.
Red is like.

Mary had a red dyed wool.

DeadPoet SG

By LazerLordz posted on 28th February 2005

Desire

Saw your picture just the other day
and
it spoke to me in a voice
like the familiar warmth of granny's
apple pie and ice cold
lemonade.

Four years have passed
and still I stand
deep in the shadows
only reaching the light
which you hold in your hands;
so slightly, that even a flower
would not survive this winter
inside.

So many have said
or preached of love unbending
like a reed in the wind.
Say not but act.
For the reed is tiny
and his chances reflect his size
but when the day comes
they stand together in a bond
fierce as people might
cannot put asunder.
The reed in the storm
and the calm before my heart

Four years in passing,
even forty
is not enough
to embrace
the light within
your hands.

Love.

DeadPoet SG

By LazerLordz posted on 5 March 2005

Grief and Rage

And when you're old and infirm
and the white cars speed by
in a hail of muddy waters
that coat you and stick
to you
like the sins of children before
and scholars who work
on empty skulls
because someone has taken out
their programming.

I weep for you
weeping for the men on
the stone benches
snoring away their lives
a quilt of life fading
into the sunset.
And no one seems to care
whether you live or die.
Inside the darkness..
there is no such thing as
poverty.

So stare hard and long
gather you wits of yore
announce your plight
to all and sundry.
The newsprint your sword
and torn mats your shield
against
imperial aggravation
that seeks to wash
you and I
out of the picture
for good.

DeadPoet SG

By xking posted on 16th March 2005

To see my home again

How much more time do i need
How much more further
Wat else do i seek
Wat kind of an answer

As i'm laying down to sleep
A thought came upon me
Was it me that i'm dealing with
or just plain uncertainty

One day when it's half way there
On a one way trip
Maybe it's me i found again
Its me and the road i lead.

I move further, deeper still
until i lost my way
if i can't found the right door to you
Nothing gonna makes me stay

And so i'm moving on
No time there is to waste
Each step i took is a long way home
But soon i'll find my way

And i'll walk right through the day.
To see my home again.