Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

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Re: Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

von khezef » 31. Mär 2014 17:44

Oje, ich werd rot :lala:

Re: Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

von Thefalus » 31. Mär 2014 17:21

Ja, habe ich wirklich sehr genossen! Und definitiv besser als alle Gedichte, die Crowley je geschrieben hat! ;)

* Lieblingszeile: I saw a deer, dear sign to me.

Chapeau! Bild

Thefalus

Re: Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

von Tsaphyre » 31. Mär 2014 17:12

Huhu,

ich habe gestern Abend das Gedicht Thefalus vorgelesen und konnte dabei so richtig schön im Stabreim schwelgen. Ein sehr stimmungsvolles Gedicht. >:->

Tsaphyre

Re: Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

von Azazel » 31. Mär 2014 17:07

schon allein die Tatsache dies in englisch zu tun nötigt Respekt ab

Khezefs literarisches Versuchslabor

von khezef » 30. Mär 2014 19:08

Ich hab mich mal am Stabreim versucht:

Laziness lasts long
a kick in the butt, but not
unreasonable but with understanding.
Take the stick and go!

Up the high hills,
grapes growing on green grounds.
Vineyards, great colorful view,
blooming flowers and towering trees.

In blooming flower garden, by the fire
with butterflies and bottles of met.
Drink and sing, shattering and shivering
possessed and pushed by power.

What I learned during the lesson,
and again, hope I won’t forget;
that environment is also living,
the young spirits taught me that.

Not old ones, no trees,
young ones, singing, dancing, sailing
with the wind far and further
taking me along with them.

Standing there between
bottom and the top.
Force from above
Force from below.

Being one, celebrating
on my own holy ground.
In the middle of the garden,
other guys and girls appeared.

Young spirits all around me,
wise and wrathful both at once.
Honest anger washed through me,
and with grim I stood up.

And so sudden came the anger,
spontaneous and strongly.
With the stick stuck in my hand,
I started to sing a song.

I sang from the cloudy heavens,
from growling howling thunderstorm.
From shivering shattering seismic movement,
when mother earth shakes loud and strong.

With wonder and with growing fear
all they left my sacred ground.
Leaving from the howling madman who
sang on with soul and sound.

And so sudden as it came,
so sudden it was gone.
And again I heard their voices,
spirits singing shaking dancing.

As the blot was over now,
I could still the strangers voices.
Far away from holy ground,
but blocking passage and path of mine.

I followed the intuition,
ignited my inner spark.
Through the vineyards and the hills,
hidden hallways, safe and sound.

I saw a deer, dear sign to me.
Hugin sitting next on a tree.
I wondered and wandered in awe
through sacred fields.

In a rush down a hill,
blue bruises and hidden laughter
later I arrived at home
with fun and joy.

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