|Poetry from yours truly|
Shadow of the Colossus poemHear this the tale of a lost soulShadow of the Colossus poem by shehrozeameen
Long live he, the Wanderer and his steed Arbhach
For they ventured past the transcending bridge
Into the valley of the shadow of the colossi
Entered he the halls of stone, and bartered with Dormin
"Pledge thee, in return for thine bidding, the maiden's life shall be returned"
And Dormin spoke
"Verily, it shalt be done. But the price to pay shall be heavy"
By Dormin's command he pledged to vanquish
The sixteen gods of stone
In the hopes that his maiden's life
A promise only possible in the Valley of the Shadow of the Colossi
With Arbhach his steed, and siúinéir solais his sword,
And love strengthening his will
He ventured and fought these God's of Stone
Attacking at the mharc ar an clocha Dia
But the price was heavy indeed
For these sixteen were portions of a single whole
But the Wanderer knew not
Aye, that Dormin once was a Damned God
Overwhelmed by the Wanderer's Clan
Shattered into sixteen pieces
He was spread to the eight e
amor vincit omnia - read descriptionIn nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sanctiamor vincit omnia - read description by shehrozeameen
My dear heart,
Forlorn have I found myself drifting between Scylla and Charybdis, ne'er a comforting pasture on which I may reside myself and my lonely wearisome soul, set adrift onward to the path of no return... I ache inside, so blistered is my plight, dearest, that I am unable to describe this gnawing thorn edging its way through my already ruptured spine - Alas, I am unable to fight it no longer.
Suffice to say my love, you would have out grown me, for I was always in your eyes a cynical old Bard, constantly badgering you with praise o'er your finesse and elegance; alas, my heart, my dear heart, I am unable to change - once the withered leaves of autumn have become senescent, they cannot become their former selves. Such am I, a fallen leaf of autumn, waiting by the forest shunned by the moonlit sky. Verily, oh dearest bird of paradise, how you would love these serene constellations that decorate the night-time, much as you would like to
|Poetry from yours truly|
Uno - A Halloween storyUnoUno - A Halloween story by shehrozeameen
Goody and Happy laughed the while away while driving through the serene streets of their town, the countryside a lavish coloring of gold and brown. The sun shined, shining the houses with their occupants busy with so their daily lives on a holiday, which in essence was every day since every one put through the daily ups and downs of life with a smile and a hearty laugh. The neighborhood, with its eight houses, were very close the Rays of number 4 and the Sunshine of number 6 were the favorites with their traditional holiday cuisines, while the Regal of number 3 were renown storytellers, whose healthy competition with the humor of the Jays family of number 5 was a hilarious treat for the eyes and music for the ears. But within this tranquil society, the least known was number 1 who was never seen, but whose house had been on rent since its inception and carried with it its share of ghost stories the Regal told with relish and spice.
Of course it didn't matter to Goody
A Boy and A PuppyIt was something like 7.38 in the morning. I'm standing outside on my house's lane, waiting for the van to come and pick me up. I'm looking at the cars passing through the main road, not bothered by their honking and at times their horrendous driving. I don't blame them - at 8 in the morning I'd be as reckless as a platoon of green clothed jarheads trying to conquer a mountain on a molehill, apathetic to the cumbersome protocols that have been broken in achieving that rather awkward and pointless goal. This isn't sarcasm; this is the way life works. You have to be faster than the ordinary fast, or you'll wind up in the tail end of the rat race.A Boy and A Puppy by shehrozeameen
Come to think about it, this rat race of mine isn't going anywhere I see the same vehicles and the same people passing through the same route day in and out, as if the traffic's on auto-pilot and somebody forgot to turn it off. But then again, it's better this way. There's nothing stopping you from winding up with an odd occurrence from ma
|Short Stories from Yours Truly|
|My Quatrains in the Rub'iyaat format made famous by Edward Fitzgerald.|
Happy Reading <------- he's a pervert.
Critique Department Update: Critic Openings!EDIT: Duties of Critics have been added in this notice. Thanks fernknits for pointing that out. Appreciate it.
Hey Everyone! My name's shehrozeameen and I recently became the new Head of the Critique Department of PoeticalCondition.
This was an administrative decision taken by our boss RiseandBe. I'm succeeding NotenSMSK, who started the critique department. A gem of a boss honestly - punctual, very dilligent in his approach, and particular about how the department was being maintained. Suffice to say, life is more than dA in the end.
Me and NotenSMSK keep in touch outside of dA, so rest assured he's doing well and is in good health - but he's become busy post-graduation due to a job and other non-dA related exercises which require his fullest potential. It was a mutual decision from all three sides.
And thus, ladies and gentlemen, I have something big to tell all of you:
WE HAVE OPENNINGS AVAILABLE FOR NEW CRITICS!
Commissions OpenName of commissioner: shehrozeameen :iconshehrozeameen:and its only for 20 (my cut is 16 , if you want it in real life amount).
Type of Commission: poetry (though epistles are also included)
Number of commissions done: five
From the commissioner:
I love writing poetry, frankly speaking. I can write a poem between 8 and 19 lines. Provided that the theme has been carefully told by the customer, I will send drafts of my progress as often as I can. I can write in both traditional and non-traditional formats.
So far as traditional are concerned, I am not particularly good with sonnets, but I have a decent assessment of syllable count. I don't follow meter. Having said that, I have written terza rimas, rub'iyaat, villanelle, ottava rima, triolets, blank verse, and quatrain style poetry.
So far as non-traditional formats are concerned, I would like to be told what the approach has to be. I'll follow it to
Some Thoughts About Friendship ..."Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart."
:::My Secret Friend:::
"True friends stab you in the front."
"A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world."
|Critique is such a hard job - but somebody's gotta do it. I for one, am proud of my critiques.|
Unappreciated Works Feature #15The new feature is up now! The works for the month of April 2014 are:fav.me/d7d3jrb - FOR THE CRITIQUES!!! (and you get them as well!)
New Prompt!Hey everyone!fav.me/d7cvxpf - Submit your to the prompt (described in the journal)