Wednesday - poetry

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Onto day three, still doreyg And today our theme is poetry!

Whether it's characters from a poem, a quote for a poem or even characters reciting poetry to each other. Today simply take your inspiration from the poetic side of life!

The rules:

* Five prompts in a row, no more than three from one fandom and if you get a prompt filled you can leave a new one.
* No spoilers until a week after air-/publication date, if you're wondering if something's a spoiler it probably is.
* Follow the examples for correct formating:

My Last Duchess - Robert Browning, The Duchess, innocence.
Historical RPF, Isabella of France, "You may shoot me with your words ; You may cut me with your eyes ; You may kill me with your hatefulness ; But still, like air, I'll rise."
Vampire Babylon, Claudius/Costin, "the master mistress of my passion"

Have fun!

tag=Poetry

Comments

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

My Last Duchess - Robert Browning, The Duchess, innocence.

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Historical RPF, Isabella of France, "You may shoot me with your words ; You may cut me with your eyes ; You may kill me with your hatefulness ; But still, like air, I'll rise."

No fic but

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

That's eerily beautiful. What's it from?

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Vampire Babylon, Claudius/Costin, "the master mistress of my passion"

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Historical RPF, Caligula,

"This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper."

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Othello, Iago/Desdemona, "Appalled by secret want, I rush ;
From such assault of radiance."

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

SPN, Gabriel/Sam, may came home with a smooth round stone, as small as a world and as large as alone (e. e. cummings)

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/any angel, Hope is the thing with feathers (Emily Dickenson)

The Thing With Feathers

[jadaryl.livejournal.com]

He remembered back in college how he'd taken that poetry class one semester. This line from one poem stood out in his mind's eye. "Hope is the thing with feathers."

Semi-hysterical laughter shook through him at the thought as strong hands pulled his arms back against feathered wings. Tears streamed down his cheeks as a matching pair of hands played him like an expertly strung harp. He no longer knew where pain ended and pleasure began. He did know he didn't want any of it. No, if hope was the thing with feathers, its feathers had been stolen decades ago and woven into the wings of despair that constantly surrounded him.

He no longer fought for hope. No, it was now despair that drove him. He deserved this. He'd opened the cage the first time. He'd gotten Ellen and Jo killed. He'd nearly gotten Dean killed. Whatever Michael and Lucifer did to him, he deserved it. That's why he fought as his arms were pressed harder the razor-sharp edges of those stolen feathers. Because the more he fought, the more he suffered like he deserved for nearly destroying the world.

[obsessed-psyco.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack, Jack is a closet poet

[veleda-k.livejournal.com]

White Collar, Sara, "Out of the ash I rise with my red hair, and eat men like air"

[badgerling.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1, Jack/Daniel, Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold (William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming")

[clwilson2006.livejournal.com]

SGA, Lorne/Parrish, Roses are red

Fill: Roses Are Red (Lorne/Parrish, G)

[pandionpandeus.livejournal.com]

"Roses are red, violets are blue--"

"Actually, they're more purple than blue," Parrish interrupts. "Thus the name violet. And roses come in a much wider variety than most--"

"Parrish," Lorne says. "Let me finish."

Parrish blinks. "Oh. Right. Yes, go ahead."

Shaking his head, Lorne glances down at the paper he's holding. "Anyway. Roses are red, violets are blue. I figured it was time that I said--"

"Time!" Parrish exclaims, jumping up from the stool he. "That's it! Lorne, you're a lifesaver!" He leans over to plant a kiss on Lorne's cheek, then rushes off into the depths of the lab.

"--I love you," Lorne finishes, speaking to empty air. He sighs and sets the paper carefully on Parrish's tablet, the poem scrawled across it. He stares at it for a moment, then sighs again before turning to leave the botany lab. Hopefully, Parrish will see it before dinner time and they can still have the steaks by candle-light that Lorne has planned.

[badgerling.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1, Jack/Daniel/Cameron, They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm (Dorothy Parker, "Fair Weather")

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

Any; Any, "I love you, your beautiful shape excites me, and if you won’t come willingly I will use force." Goethe, 'Erlkonig'

Fill: "Do Not Welcome Domination" - PG-13, Fullmetal Alchemist, Kimblee->Hawkeye, 1/?

[seta-suzume.livejournal.com]

She was an extremely capable woman. Certainly, that was part of what drew him to her: Riza Hawkeye, the sniper, the lone cadet he had met on the field. They had spoken a total of two times, but that was more than enough for her to hate him. ...and for Kimblee to want her.

But unless she liked her sexual encounters laced with a healthy dose of anger and self-disgust, his odds of charming his way into what he wanted the way he usually did were slim. He had revealed just a fraction of his true feelings toward the war in her presence and in doing so had hinted at a side of herself that she didn't care to see. Wasn't pretty little Hawkeye familiar with the expression "the truth hurts?"

He would have to approach her carefully, at the right time. She was pragmatic. He couldn't trust her type not to put a bullet through his head if they were alone and she felt threatened. Officers had fallen to victim to the men beneath them for less than he intended.

Anyway, there were surely facets to Cadet Hawkeye he had yet to be exposed to. Perhaps she would show him a side of herself still unfamiliar to her doting defender Mustang- they were more than just strangers who had met on the battlefield, Kimblee was sure of that, but what that something was, he couldn't tell.

He would come under cover of darkness. Like the desert creatures that rested while the sun burned down overhead, the night was Kimblee's friend. He took what little rest he needed in preparation for an unofficial night sortie. Cadet Hawkeye would be alert as ever and it was up to him to make sure he was up to speed to match- and then beat- her. It was all too easy to keep on going here without pause, without sleep- add a drop of coffee to the thrilling rush of adrenaline brought to him by making and witnessing his bursts of light and sound along Ishval's sculpted skylines and he could carry on eternally, until dehydration or exhaustion or the insanity of sleep deprivation brought him to his knees. "Stop," he had to remind himself, "Sit down. Close your eyes. Sleep."

He had fallen asleep with the coming of the dusk and awoke in the dark. He had dreamt about her- the curves of that body she hid beneath her uniform becoming clearly defined by the removal of her cloak and jacket and the touch of his hands. She had strong arms, as toned as any military man's, but lusciously wide hips and breasts that he greeted as handfuls, spilling out as she unhooked a serviceable, frill-less, black bra. One couldn't expect all the vagaries of dreams to be anything like reality, but Kimblee liked what he had conjured up. He had a keen imagination when it came to seeing to his own entertainment. As a result of this, he was rarely bored.

There was at least one element of his fantasy he felt comfortable in assuming was accurate. Cadet Hawkeye was no squeamish virgin. It might not be his touch she desired, but along with that eagle eye and steady hand, she had a woman's yearnings. To the best of Kimblee's knowledge, Roy Mustang was making no efforts to fulfill them. In desperate circumstances...when one might not live to see the following day...might one not want to compromise, to best enjoy what little pleasure one could have?

"Cadet," he greeted her in the darkness, fresh from the showers. There was an extra bit of allure in his cleanliness, wasn't there? There were hundreds of options out here for a woman interested in men to slake her thirst. Therefore, it was up to Kimblee to present himself as one of the more appealing ones. The small things he did for his own pleasure- maintaining his long hair, the fresh handkerchiefs, a dab of cologne when he could manage it- might hold some charm, however small, that would help ensnare her.

[badgerling.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, John/Vala,

By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying,
Lady, make a note of this —
One of you is lying. (Dorothy Parker, "Unfortunate Coincidence")

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

Any; Any; "down in the forest dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep" from The Poor Little Rich Girl

Fill (original)

[ciaranbochna.livejournal.com]

They all came to her. For five hundred years they stumbled through the trees, falling against her door with the last of their will. Love. Revenge. Power. The came to her for control over their lives. She gave them charms of gold and silver bound with twine she spun herself (pride in one's work, after all). The charms never worked the way they wanted them to. She gave them what they needed. Confidence in themselves, rather than notice from another. A nod of forgiveness in place of revenge. A push here, a nudge there--little enough for each.

There is no path to her house. A cottage wrapped completely in ivy and roses. Those that need her find their way. She is happy at her loom, seeing the world in her weaving. Spinning thread from the possibility between worlds. A choice is a heavy burden and each man, woman and child set their feet to its path of their own free will.

Her forest remains with her, though now she hears the world around her borders. Once, it was so quiet. When she has no more favours to grant them, when they stop searching for her, she follows the trees down.

Follow the roots below the earth to a cave built of time and silence. She will listen to the leaves follow the path toward air. She is not too old to learn, even as she dreams.

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, main six,

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

You have no idea how much I love this prompt *SQUEE*
Filling as we speak.

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. ~W.B. Yeats

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

PotC, any/any,

'One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.' -'The Highwayman', Alfred Noyes

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

any, any, A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. - Robert Frost

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

any, any, God is the perfect poet. -Robert Browning

[blue-sunflowers.livejournal.com]

It really is the tree, he thinks. The sturdiness of the trunk, the beauty of the leaves; everything is perfect- right down to the subtle intricacies of the veins in the leaves. That the pattern is repeated throughout nature, from the butterfly to the human body, only further validates the brilliance of a Master who uses life as His ultimate form of poetry.

[effingeden.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead - Wilde, Ballad of Reading Gaol

[hawk-dancing.livejournal.com]

CM: Suspect Behavior, any, the unsub leaves bad poetry at every scene

[straydog733.livejournal.com]

Any, any, "She said 'Tell me what gods you believe in. I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.'" - Andrea Gibson

No fill, but...

[veleda-k.livejournal.com]

OH MY GOD ANDREA GIBSON, YES.

I adore her.

[pandionpandeus.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, any(/any),
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. (W.B. Yeats, "The Stolen Child")

[obsessed-psyco.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack,
"And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?" - Shelley

[mithrel.livejournal.com]

He’s seen sunlight on a thousand planets–sunlight falling on rocks, grass, ice. Sunlight in yellow and red and green.

He’s seen moonlight on a thousand planets–single moons, double moons. Moonlight reflecting off the ocean, off sheer cliffs, off the trees.

But he’s never seen anything as beautiful as the sunlight of Earth on Sam Carter’s face, never wanted her more than when the moonlight turns her skin opalescent.

But even that pales the day he finally takes her in his arms and kisses her, and she kisses him back.