Essential starter tools for poets:

http://rhymezone.com/

http://dictionary.reference.com/

As many of you know, I just love wordbanks: What they do are this! 1 - They invigorate ideas 2 - Put words in your mouth 3 - Design your poem in a way 4 - Cure brainblock 5 - Lead you into other areas of writing 6 - Discpline your writing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, you have a go!

cascade, spiritual, verdict, drama, pretext, ferment, nominal, euphoric, sensual, cameo.

 

I shall add a poem with these words later, to show you. 

 

My mother suffered and died during the last year of my education. This made it quite difficult to carry on with my studies. While my father was busy working, I remained to look after my brother and two sisters.

Since then, I have persevered by educating myself and reaping the benefits from where I left off. English, Maths and Science in particular are my specialist subjects. Titus 

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My Darkest Fear of Death  By Titus Llewellyn

   

Fear! - Nervous as ever, verily the motion seeking still, pervades  alluring thought, as if from swift imaginations either sway of head, to this or that. Darkness severs the capability of sight your hearing heard, and only then do voices of a kind rekindle new, -
That from a view, illusions dreadful future saw. How the dull din of close proximities our judgments choose, for, things we cannot answer to. It brings this kind of adage that concludes a lesser fate, for that we hoped was simply there, and shown upon deaths face. 

How then can one feel so alone, but let allow, that two exist, an evil force in tune with this, exactness such as near. A bristle with a dreaded whim, a moment saw for certain brought, those brief requisites bats detest, detect this vast abyss. 

Selected is the greater sound depicting views that intrigues move, rekindles death that overheard me missing by mile.

Now at this point, retrieval had  indeed the need for day denied fear of night had softened......., died in fact for daylight lied.
While getting used to dark too soon, the optimum of light would tell enough of these few greyer cells, illusion cannot fix. As wisely said to poke this place that even now seems more like space, I feel sufficient source be found from whole, and the siphon sped. How physics can regenerate like muscles do, so propagate, reversal led, then hibernates.., extinction did.

 

 Poetry is like a lovers' tiff, a simple action known for making up - 

                                                           ~  Sir Titus Llewellyn. ~

Essential starter tools for poets:

http://rhymezone.com/

http://dictionary.reference.com/

You have all given me some beautiful memories!

There has been one obstacle recently,

it seems to have destroyed the very meaning of life,

and my being miserable for it doesn't help,

although I recieve much fondness from you all.

                                                 Titus

All written by Titus 

Welcome to my page  ...

　

                                                                                  

     

   Acrostic for Titus

        

         

Tormented! I have words but no way out In spite of the encouraging conveys Towards me, that this darkest hour plays Unusual, how much emptiness is about, Should read no more, by ending all this praise.   This quite direct proposal finds myself, In retrospect, a fool with not a worth Transcending thought and should I say, what wealth? Unrest, with all this literature at girth So I may ascertain my mental health. Tremendous time and patience do you all In time, deceive yourselves a crying shame To think compared with effort you are small Unsure, as well, for greeting all 'this' fame, Surrounds us with a promise to enthral.

                                                                                      

      

                               Mysteriously, Tithonus enter a modern day scene from the epic poem, "EOS           

                  

Having named himself after the Latin poet and philosopher, Titus

Lucretius Carus, then the name Titus shall inspire an equally long

exponent of the atomic feature, De Rarem Natura, and both writers

alike shall similarly, have nothing known of their lives.

Titus has written a book titled, Eos, where in it, William accidently

swallows some poison, and this is also similar is description of

Lucretius's insanity from a love potion and is supported by a passage

at the end of book 4, or De Rarum Natura, (incidently as Titus does in Eos), 

in which the poet violently attacks the lovemaking of men and women -

which he describes rather fully.

Weeping on Ripples                            Haiku                                                         *                           * *                                      saturated tears                                    as those outside have fallen,                                    disturb the water.                                    and as ripples pull,                                 the extended woe they bring                                       optimise return.                                     where, subtle at first-                                  the gradual flow shall cease,                                   making it better.                       * *                       *

quotes by Titus                                                                                 

____________________________________                                     

By invitation, does this mean I have to ask,                                   

or mask my intentions?

 It hastens me to stop and this has caused

the mammoth task of feeling less equipped.                    

my comfort zone would ask if it my turn
to write, but nothing altered the mistake.

If in between the love I grieve,
A friendship waits the pain I leave
The glory in you prides those I retain.

It lingers while this love sustains as time
And sleeps while we awake no time at all.

____________________________________

  At last, the lamp from which elusiveness
                                       Seeks love and from this fairytale, I've found

Jointly we have words to share all day
Instead of reading in between the lines
Not, that there are any to convey
Suppose there were, I'm sure you'd see the signs.
And if the coded message be unknown
Yet due to these suspicions some may say,
Seduction is but subtle, yours alone!

Since I joined allpoetry, I have had the pleasure of knowing some mighty fine people, and I say people instead of poets, because over time, affections have been mutual in respect of closeness and loyalty. Sadly though, many have gone on to hopefully better climbs, and sadly, I am at loss with many of them leaving. I haven't left as such, but I think my love for them intrigued me to write many a momentous urge in writing. I owe it to all of you whom I have taken to my heart, the loyalty of words have owned, and reading some of my works, you will see some of those who I have shared my soul with.

Of course, there have become new friends just recently to the repertoire of respect. Those who've amounted as ever, over time, reminders which have become a full time hobby including them in the fourth volume of my epic, EOS as souls.

~Sir Titus Llewellyn~

 

Sonnet LXX

Longevity My Mistress Pt i

Let it be known that naissance is of late
significant that this longevity
shall live as long as these words shall donate
Affairs of the heart in their brevity,
Not a thought nor a whim should a thief
though if renditions are morbid as bleak
fully aware that due to mere relief;
in as much that if as old as antique
Thou hast with heart in this old oak of thine.
Lest not we forget the marriage of will,
though it is fixt that the next birth of time
should the shroud of an existence so thrill.
Could those legions who've augmented claim
Mediocrity, forsakens his name.  

Sonnet LXXI

Longevity my Mistress Pt ii

 

Thou hast paraphrased a psalm though as a chime
which has altered this, the scenery as such
therefore proceeding with his life and time
Can bring, so it appears, a Shakespeare touch
his versions up till now have been bestowed,
though this upon suspicion how we grieve
protected by the way we read each ode
Like any mistress decoy, should she leave.
That death be the upheaval from this urge
of beneficials openly seduced,
For future ventures death within a surge
that loving brought, existence introduced.
Fruition, in that acorns reimburse
The moving apparitions plays rehearse.

 

A LOVE TRILOGY

Sonnet - LXXIX

Have slunk into the warmth of mere regards
with men, whom fond affection for you seeks
and yet, not lost for words, the smaller shards
convince me that they pierce through trend techniques.
A modern day transfixt to troubadour,
has murmoured such endearments barely hatched,
that words alone shall mimic the allure,
they've practiced yet too soon become detached.
I open hearts for preferences to soul,
which trade awareness through until one day,
Accept it that to token myself whole
wil't never disavow intentions sway.

Where love has gripped a heart pledge to explore
I feel non-touched more smitten than before.



Sonnet - LXXX

First oft, if sideways glance has signified,
attention to elusive pass by states
sees surely, that one second of it died,
before she turns again thus conjugates,
a bearing, I exist, if not for more,
Containing smiles forelorn to one accept
that turmoil shyly plays - not to ignore
more suffering with my worship wildly swept.
Approach that through awareness beauty steeped,
in envy from a mans's eye point of view
shall focus, unlike them adorned and heaped
with praise that shows us holding hands imbue.

Where eye to eye, does lovingly invite,
the Everest, our reading souls would write.


Sonnet - LXXXI

The visual first love options mingle trade,
where less than five mere seconds of it rides
on laughter, not intelligent degrade
whose practices that cannot thus provide,
Intentions weak on promises for more,
though freely to acceptence, thwart it sings
the spirited but featureless adore,
of numbing the effect the outcome brings.
An edge to this prevade has brought us near,
from this obscurity, that just by chance
became the notice of, not disappear,
but stand the end of time as pure romance.

Longevity shall grace the faith of some,
as long as we're together, both become.

 

       Dust to Dust

* * * * Origin means it came from the unknown, Death returns it back, the rest is bone. *  * * *

Love at Arm's Length - Sonnet LXXXVII

Just touch, and if the grace of God be known, should tenderness to reach our souls desire appendage reaching out, please raise them higher the invitation blossoms, love has grown. To greet the said sensation touching palms could be that fingertips have found a way, combining two as one and to this day I feel the soft sensation stroking arms. How eagerly the warmth of one embrace, slide easily, intention to the feel for distance cannot be, I want to trace the wishes unobtained for your appeal. My treasured words of telling you at length that patience can but promise me new strength.  Inspired by Lord Byron    RECITAL TO A LOVE VOUCH                         1   Then praise thy love vouch honour thee,        Thy queen from this romantic tale, Shall smooth to mellow melting spree        contained within by each detail       Quadrupled by the smile, if not by manner! Though soften'd let politeness proves,       She'd raise my status, Lord of manor       To please this gent, he thus approves,       The way in which not once I judge Nor otherwise shall he likely be!       Complacement, nor should she begrudge This man thy pleasure courting she.                          2 Our love shall vouchsafe both as one,        If woeful bridge so separates; Where parting brief like love begun,        For springs eternal season waits; It seems inspired to having made us wanton!      Our bliss, be this on earth as these desires,      Should loving her be due to this divine  Whilst caring all the while, should she dismay      Discover that for always she is mine, When love far much conveys me to assign.

From volume iii, EOS 'tishoo, tishoo, all fall down' verse 7035 - 7070   A silence that portrays the end of time has signalled it a fairytale to those who wrote, creating what we call sublime, the tendency to dream what we dispose. The fears and revelations we foresee, are dreams to which escape is nothing more than differs us awake when fantasy appears for waking up the soul's explore Languishing in scent filled sulphurs near, an escapade of pixies walking through the dimly lit where futures would appear sprinkling all the woes of those who do. Amy had indeed prevented this, the compensation left from early days, when pixies had to venture the abyss stealing mystery and the magical conveys. I thought it was a dream but it was not, if pixie dust was made from human skin forbidden rules became which I forgot contain the fate that put all answers in. I hastily retreated knowing praise, would make a wish come true for the demise, of grinding ash evolving rot decays who stole our love away in fond goodbyes. The ease with which I took the pixie dust was suddenly a breeze which gouged the lead contained it not much longer, merely rust, confusing their depiction of the dead. An earthquake had erupted forming depth, to which almighty natures took their course, I for one give thanks for length and breadth dreams like this are real and come from source. And if by dying now, if we respond, to prove before our world has found an end, I'm sure that souls selecting the beyond are verging on the cusp playing pretend.                           ~ The End ~

 *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

As I languish far behind this meaning, 'love',
You! Become the rose that beauty wears,
More handsome than awaits this treasure trove
And far more irresistible than tears.........,

.....Of joy these life long wishes often well-
When someone else can feel and often know
Exclaims that what is lost can never tell,
Next time hath need to prune to further grow.
Where love can further tune converge to this
The subtle way it finds a place to sleep,
Discovers what is found as pure and bliss
To simply ask again and take a peep.
By her giving up the priceless wares inside-
The pollen grains of love have reappeared,
To scupper up the nectar both shall hide,
What love decided first was next, hand reared.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

HESITANCE

Part One: The Illusions of Society I LIFE becomes sudden and as swift To curiosity as we learn; What society wants, we drift Fingers shall burn.    For it is our decision,                5 That resurrects our being And made from the derision Others are seeing. Step by step by this intrusion We form ourselves as either,    10 A thing of past, or an illusion Or simply neither.                                                      by Sir Titus Llewellyn

From Eos; Volume ii

Spilt are the tears of respite that can no longer hold a prelude
Before the audience a premise of concerning adulations
Simmer over Greek tragedy where our two lovers were that night.
Disdain flourishes mayhem over envy, equalling flight of fancy.
Tangible allures as the insufficient energies amalgamate,
Seemingly not knowing how close they were, indeed had part.
Were, in large amounts, notorious overwhelming contemplates.
Trading thoughts for the fury of rages, understanding lost,
It seems that love absconded where the friendship began.

Two actors whose lives overflowed with feelings of candour

Similated apprehension from the form they were sharing;

A make believe world in a far away state, chained them together

For the sake of some genealogilcal disorder, accompaniment

Proceeded for a few days a week, enchanment each month. 
Intimidated by the strength of Aphrodite, singled on a thread.

You could not help believe that both escaped to the real world.  
Heroine by nature, the natural hero Tithonus, envies the sun,

In stark contrast with any hero worship I have known

Dwindled so professionallly, not one single person saw unlike,

The stardom in her eye, was seen full blown:

Like the manifestation of souls introduced from the night,
A setting of suns whose chief spot light was a sympathetic faun
Whose contentious image of moths flutter distinctively
Mere mortals who turn into paupers lose ambition for love,

Tithonus was unique that he was awful a curse to ones bearing

Offering the transformation needed to be handsome again. 
And as the imaginary ovations tumble with mind bending pain,
It roared, "and again", the all too different assumption, a nonentity.

Last night, chapter and verse trembles to the hilt in denial,
As the lingering embrace shares the race for the exits,
Single file becomes cliché to the maddening crowd waiting for buses

Not realising how much in love they were.
While the exodus of one epic poem canoodles with another
Eos, represents that unattainable quality, the unknown.
The subterfuge in which we seek such stardom,
One chance is all you get with  fewer moments to move it.

~~~~

Loving you is as much like breathing,

as dying would be if you were gone.

~~~~

Ego Dilecto Meo

by Sir Titus Llewellyn