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[Pillemarisk]

We are the hollow BSN
We are the stuffed BSN
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow BSN
The stuffed BSN.


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty BSN.


Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

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.

[rapscallioness]

well done.

[Miserybot]

Well then, thank god I still have a humanity left.

 

That's a uh... a Dark Souls reference. Maybe you've hear of it.

[GoldenGail3]

Good job OP! You deserve a bow!

[Tantum Dic Verbo]

You can have all my like for the Eliot reference. Bonus likes if you do all of The Waste Land on Aug 25.

[Dobbysaurus]

Did all the loonies escape from the loony bin at the same time as the BSN closing announcement?

 

 

It's mayhem all over the forum right now..

 

Spoiler

...and it's glorious!

[Remix-General Aetius]

If by hollow you mean most people's skulls around here........I'm with you.

[Vit246]

This is 2deep4me

[Donk]

We are the hollow BSN
We are the stuffed BSN
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow BSN
The stuffed BSN.


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty BSN.


Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

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.

I'll have what you're having.

[AtreiyaN7]

Surprisingly, that actually sounded a lot better than at least 95% of the bad poetry that I end up having to format (self-publishing poets are almost uniformly terrible and so are their manuscripts, imo). *polite applause*

[Pillemarisk]

Surprisingly, that actually sounded a lot better than at least 95% of the bad poetry that I end up having to format (self-publishing poets are almost uniformly terrible and so are their manuscripts, imo). *polite applause*

 

Thank you.

[Serza]

No wonder you're all soft.

Too busy writing poetry about waterfalls.

*Sips Ryncol*

 

'SCUSE ME, ZIP. I'M TOO BUSY WRITING POETRY ABOUT KILLING STUFF. Needless to say, I find it easy to find the words... a little harder to make them rhyme. Seriously, "death" and "blood" don't rhyme very well!

[Zehealingman]

Guys, I got my first warning point in this thread. Thank you all so much!

[ZipZap2000]

'SCUSE ME, ZIP. I'M TOO BUSY WRITING POETRY ABOUT KILLING STUFF. Needless to say, I find it easy to find the words... a little harder to make them rhyme. Seriously, "death" and "blood" don't rhyme very well!

Death rhymes with breath.

Blood with mud.

Cuts with guts.

Eviscerate with commiserate.

Decapitate with cap his mate.

Kill with thrill.

*Shoots you for being a poet*

Edit: I just received a warning point . Apparently I was making provocative posts. Abandon thread.

[Serza]

Death rhymes with breath.

Blood with mud.

Cuts with guts.

Eviscerate with commiserate.

Decapitate with cap his mate.

Kill with thrill.

*Shoots you for being a poet*

Edit: I just received a warning point . Apparently I was making provocative posts. Abandon thread.

 

A bad one at that. Much better at killing everyone who dares call me a suit rat in my face.

 

By the way, that Claymore bounced clean off my shields.

[Element Zero]

And yet the thread remains. It's somehow not "off topic", or whatnot. You'd think some tiny concessions could be made, given the reality facing this place; yet, threads are getting locked pretty swiftly, again. If only the forum had been policed so zealously during the days of mayhem (DA2, ME3), maybe things would be different now. Sigh.

[Arcian]

Well then, thank god I still have a humanity left.
 
That's a uh... a Dark Souls reference. Maybe you've hear of it.

You're not fooling anyone, synth.

[KaiserShep]

Guys, I got my first warning point in this thread. Thank you all so much!

 

 

I think that every single active user on this forum should get a warning, and when we look at the actual details, it just reads "For old times' sake".

[BioWareMod02]

As this thread is off-topic it is being closed.