Concurs de Craciun cu premii

sincer... nu ma asteptam la reactiile astea...

adica manea SW... hai ma sa fim seriosi ....

 

Pai versurile sunt bune, dar ar trebui sa te omor pentru conceptul de manea...

 

Mi-a placut balada asta sub forma de manea. Bravo Arapila!

 

Ti-a iesit super maneaua, Arapila! De vreo zece minute nu ma pot opri din chicotit!

 

tare rau...dar nush de unde idea cu maneaua). Cred ca avem un nou tip de opera literara

 

apoi din cauza marei am facut manea ... si dejan m-a ajutat cu vre-o doua versuri... si un fost vecin, care e manelist de cariera

 

OK.. Binisor.. Numai ca urasc manelele...

 

din ura se naste dragostea

eu astept poezia Marei... Mara, cand e gata?

 

Nu stiu... Sper ca inainte de expirarea termenului. Desi nu va fi o poezie lunga, momentan sunt in pana de inspiratie.

 

Eu cred ca tie iti trebuie o muza... ca mie sigur mi-ar trebui vreo doua

 

Si eu care credeam ca ai prea multe, ca tocmai voiam sa-ti cer sa-mi imprumuti si mie una!

 

Maine va fi prima zi oficiala de concurs. In 5 December sa incheie totul si votam

 

asculta mai omule

When you're hot, you're hot.

 

yeah baby! She loves me!

 

Iubiti-va si voi pe ascuns pana ma fac si pe mine astia popa Sa imi iasa si mie ceva din afacerea asta

 

Dom' parinte, nu profita de pe urma necazului altor oameni!

 

In sfarsit, mi-am adunat toate ideile si mi-am facut suficient curaj ca sa postez si eu poezia mea. Nu voi spune decat trei lucruri:

I - vroiam sa scriu ceva umoristic, ca majoritatea, dar nu prea mi-a iesit, asa ca m-am orientat catre intunecat si adanc (stilul meu caracteristic
II - scuze de lungime, dar Inspiratia m-a trasnit cu o bata de baseball in cap si m-a amenintat ca ma loveste a doua oara daca nu scriu tot ce imi dicteaza
III - poezia este scrisa in stil postmodernist (fara rima)

Well, enjoy!


Drowning in Memories



Time always passes me by; these unending days seem to turn into hours,
The hours seem to be mere seconds to my fleeting mind, scattering madly
As I stand still and watch the stars slowly shine and dim, on the black sky.

They speak, but I can never hear them, deafened by a lifetime of lies.
They smile, but it only makes me feel chilled to the bone, deader than I am now.
But if I try and turn my gaze away from them, shunning them away from my thoughts
Everything around me only seems to get much colder and darker, as my world fades.

In hyperspace, between worlds, when crossing the void that divides the stars,
I feel closest to myself, alone with my mind for company, my coldness for support
Surrounded by crew and staff, but separated from the world by a veil of shadows.

Alone, in a void of darkness, unrestrained, my once chained thoughts can run free.
Not even the Dark One will be able to feel any of them, know of my transgressions
And make me pay dearly for my lack of foresight, that endangers his orderly plans.

There was once a time when watching the stars brought me unbridled joy,
But the fear of the dead, black sun destroyed what once had been whole in me.
It spawned the cold dragon that took refuge inside my heart, that burned in the core,
Waiting, gnawing, whispering, lying, growling and consuming me from the inside.

Was it my choice? Or had everything been already decided by Fate?
Were my steps only a chaotic mess ? or had they been planned ahead?
Much as I would like to forget these questions, bury them in a grave,
They keep tearing at my mind, a second withered dragon, come to life.

Everything that I was had been so very simple only a few months ago:
Do your Master?s bidding, kill, maim, satisfy the hunger for even more,
Work to make the Galaxy a better place, crush all those that stand in your way.

Then he had come along; the Cherubim, the small, blue-eyed boy.
It was he who threw my once orderly word into chaos, turned night into day.
What had been only white and black split in a thousand shades of grey,
All that had been simple, set in stone, was smashed in the span of a second.

Was he a part of me? Could the light come from darkness, like a forgotten dawn?
Why could I not hate him, when he was the one responsible for my present misery?
Why could I not destroy him, as I had once destroyed the one named Skywalker?

For he is Padme?s child as well, a long-dead conscience seems to come back to life.
For you could not destroy the last part of her that still exists in this cold world
For you would rather give away your own life, than know the little boy dead.

Crushing it under an iron fist, mercilessly pushing the voice back among the ashes,
I tell myself I do not need something to remind me of the past, of all I had tried to forget
And of all that I had shattered, with my own hands, without a care.

But, still, the boy lives, despite my hate, despite awakening my dormant wrath.
We fought only once; even then I could see how strong he was, as I had once been,
Before the fire, the darkness, the lies, the betrayal tore my once whole body asunder.

He was defiant; he refused me, even when faced with certain death
And that he ultimately chose, falling through the clouds, rather taking my black hand,
Refusing to listen and believe, foolishly throwing away all that I was ready to give him.

How would I have felt, if his fingers had grasped mine, if he had believed?
If h

 

Foarte frumos.
Felicitari!

 

Interesant... lung, in engleza... dar interesant.
Felicitari.

Nu pot zice decat: Vote for me !

 

Excellent!

 

Minunat.

 

well cred ca ar trebui sa stiti:

am incercat si eu
care inseamna ca am parodiat coolio cu gangsta paradise(acum e jedi paradise)
dar nu a iesit nimic
nu am gasit rime la vreo doua versuri asa ca nu l-am postat

 

ok
i am in a loss of words

a-ti cistigat
o meritati
tocmai am verificat mail-ul si daaaam that **** is wack
dude bravo ****
il meritati

 

despre ce vorbesti?

vedeti sa nu ajunga in mainile celor de la seminar, ca ma omoara Tezeu

 

Chiar v-a placut? Am fost foarte ingrijorata cand am postat-o, este prima oara cand ma apuc de o poezie asa de lunga....

Mara, tu cand o termini pe a ta?