MademoiselleGrief• Show poetry

I'm lonely, quiet, creative, friendly. My mind is always somewhere else... ^_^
I'm a big fan of JKR and her books, the films too XD

WEEE GO HARRY POTTTER!!

I also write stories, I draw, and do photomanipulations on the computer when I've got writer's block.
My poetry is based around the topic of fantasy and dark things, it rarely is personal but I write better when it's all made up. I like to show my poetry to others and I like to know how it makes them feel and what they think of it.

I really value what I write, my poetry is the most precious thing to me. To steal it would be like to steal a piece of me. I's say that when writing it all comes naturally, sometimes it flows beautiful, sometimes it's really hard to get it out of my pen. Depends on what type of day I'm having. I'm Portuguese, not English and I'm always on the look out for new words to add to my vocabulary. I think the English language is the most beautiful thing ever, all those words... I feed off them like juice hehe.

Currently trying to write humurous poems. (getting nowhere with that) but I have to try. Can't write "negatively" all my life.

My poetry tells you enough about me

Please read my poetry; I'd love to know what you think. Thank you for taking time to read this ^_^

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My favourtie poem so far:

The Laboratory by Robert Browning
ANCIEN REGIME

I

Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
May gaze through these faint smokes curling whitely,
As thou pliest thy trade in this devil's-smithy—
Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?

II

He is with her; and they know that I know
Where they are, what they do: they believe my tears flow
While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear
Empty church, to pray God in, for them!—I am here.

III

Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,
Pound at thy powder,—I am not in haste!
Better sit thus, and observe thy strange things,
Than go where men wait me and dance at the King's.

IV

That in the mortar—you call it a gum?
Ah, the brave tree whence such gold oozings come!
And yonder soft phial, the exquisite blue,
Sure to taste sweetly,—is that poison too?

V

Had I but all of them, thee and thy treasures,
What a wild crowd of invisible pleasures!
To carry pure death in an earring, a casket,
A signet, a fan-mount, a filigree-basket!

VI

Soon, at the King's, a mere lozenge to give,
And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!
But to light a pastille, and Elise, with her head,
And her breast, and her arms, and her hands, should drop dead!

VII

Quick—is it finished? The colour's too grim!
Why not soft like the phial's, enticing and dim?
Let it brighten her drink, let her turn it and stir,
And try it and taste, ere she fix and prefer!

VIII

What a drop! She's not little, no minion like me—
That's why she ensnared him: this never will free
The soul from those strong, great eyes,—say, "No!"
To that pulse's magnificent come-and-go.

IX

For only last night, as they whispered, I brought
My own eyes to bear on her so, that I thought
Could I keep them one-half minute fixed, she would fall,
Shrivelled; she fell not; yet this does it all!

X

Not that I bid you spare her the pain!
Let death be felt and the proof remain;
Brand, burn up, bite into its grace—
He is sure to remember her dying face!

XI

Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose,
It kills her, and this prevents seeing it close:
The delicate droplet, my whole fortune's fee—
If it hurts her, beside, can it ever hurt me?

XII

Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill,
You may kiss me, old man, on my mouth if you will!
But brush this dust off me, lest horror it brings
Ere I know it—next moment I dance at the King's!


ATRUM SENIOR EXSISTO VOBIS - The Dark Lord be with you