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paladin
Främling


Ble Medlem: 26 Jun 2005 Innlegg: 19 Bosted: Spydeberg
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Falkens Sølvtårer
Vaktsomme øyne
Blindet av
sorgens sølvtårer
VÃ¥kne av
hatets uendelighet
Falken seiler i natten
Over blankt
måneskinnsvann
Under jordens vakre tak
Vingene slår
i takt med vinden
slik hjertet
banker som stormens øye
Stille er hatet
Som evighetens
svartmalte lilje
og dråpen av en sølvtåre
faller til slutt
og lager en liten krusning
på vannets blikkstille skjønnhet
Sørgmodig
fortsetter den
sin livslange ferd
Til stedet lyset glemte
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_________________ Never knock on death's door! Ring the dorbell, and run!
Skrevet: Man 11 Jul 2005, 00:15 |
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Gnomulfen
OoaHelaNatten


Ble Medlem: 15 Nov 2005 Innlegg: 497 Bosted: Bergen
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La oss komme oss tilbake til dødsdikt
Walt Whitman
O Captain! My Captain!
1
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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_________________ I was going to say something witty, but then I suddently realised; I couldn't be arsed.
Skrevet: Lør 04 Mar 2006, 13:25 |
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Karete
Varm i trøya


Ble Medlem: 03 Feb 2005 Innlegg: 77 Bosted: Kolbotn .. ^^
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Gro Dahle's dikt "Moren min er en saks" anbefales sterkt! Det er altfor langt til å skrive det inn her, men det er utrolig fint og bør allikevel finnes og leses.. 
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_________________ My doctor tells me I've got a weird personality..
But that''s okay - I've got four more!
Skrevet: Fre 21 Apr 2006, 10:35 |
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mathianus
l33t


Ble Medlem: 19 Des 2003 Innlegg: 1370 Bosted: I'm sooo outta here
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Pff, finnes ikke noe som heter for langt. Bare sjekk "The Highwayman" jeg posta her for en stund siden.
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_________________ Any and all material contained within this post that makes any kind of sense or serious point is completely coincidental and should not be taking as such.
Skrevet: Lør 22 Apr 2006, 00:21 |
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Karete
Varm i trøya


Ble Medlem: 03 Feb 2005 Innlegg: 77 Bosted: Kolbotn .. ^^
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mathianus skrev: | Pff, finnes ikke noe som heter for langt. Bare sjekk "The Highwayman" jeg posta her for en stund siden. |
Hrmf, okei da Men når sant skal sies, så finner jeg ikke diktet på Internett heller, og norskboka mi er igjen på skolen.. Men en dag jeg har norskboka, og gidder, så skal jeg skrive det inn!
Imellomtida får dere kose dere med dikteregenskapene til min venn Erik;
Karete er barsk, Karete er tøff!
Med henne er det ikke noe bøff
Vi digger hennes smil og stil
Hun er tøffere enn en neglefil!
(de er faktisk borti føtter hele nesten dagen,
da må man være tøff for å klare å holde maten i magen)
XD
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_________________ My doctor tells me I've got a weird personality..
But that''s okay - I've got four more!
Skrevet: Lør 22 Apr 2006, 09:19 |
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Gnomulfen
OoaHelaNatten


Ble Medlem: 15 Nov 2005 Innlegg: 497 Bosted: Bergen
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Signior Dildo
Lord John Wilmot
You ladies of merry England
Who have been to kiss the Duchess's hand,
Pray, did you not lately observe in the show
A noble Italian called Signior Dildo?
This signior was one of the Duchess's train
And helped to conduct her over the main;
But now she cries out, 'To the Duke I will go,
I have no more need for Signior Dildo.'
At the Sign of the Cross in St James's Street,
When next you go thither to make yourselves sweet
By buying of powder, gloves, essence, or so,
You may chance to get a sight of Signior Dildo.
You would take him at first for no person of note,
Because he appears in a plain leather coat,
But when you his virtuous abilities know,
You'll fall down and worship Signior Dildo.
My Lady Southesk, heaven prosper her for't,
First clothed him in satin, then brought him to court;
But his head in the circle he scarcely durst show,
So modest a youth was Signior Dildo.
The good Lady Suffolk, thinking no harm,
Had got this poor stranger hid under her arm.
Lady Betty by chance came the secret to know
And from her own mother stole Signior Dildo.
The Countess of Falmouth, of whom people tell
Her footmen wear shirts of a guinea an ell,
Might save that expense, if she did but know
How lusty a swinger is Signior Dildo.
By the help of this gallant the Countess of Rafe
Against the fierce Harris preserved herself safe;
She stifled him almost beneath her pillow,
So closely she embraced Signior Dildo.
The pattern of virtue, Her Grace of Cleveland,
Has swallowed more pricks than the ocean has sand;
But by rubbing and scrubbing so wide does it grow,
It is fit for just nothing but Signior Dildo.
Our dainty fine duchesses have got a trick
To dote on a fool for the sake of his prick,
The fops were undone did their graces but know
The discretion and vigour of Signior Dildo.
The Duchess of Modena, though she looks so high,
With such a gallant is content to lie,
And for fear that the English her secrets should know,
For her gentleman usher took Signior Dildo.
The Countess o'th'Cockpit (who knows not her name?
She's famous in story for a killing dame),
When all her old lovers forsake her, I trow,
She'll then be contented with Signior Dildo.
Red Howard, red Sheldon, and Temple so tall
Complain of his absence so long from Whitehall.
Signior Barnard has promised a journey to go
And bring back his countryman, Signior Dildo.
Doll Howard no longer with His Highness must range,
And therefore is proferred this civil exchange:
Her teeth being rotten, she smells best below,
And needs must be fitted for Signior Dildo.
St Albans with wrinkles and smiles in his face,
Whose kindness to strangers becomes his high place,
In his coach and six horses is gone to Bergo
To take the fresh air with Signior Dildo.
Were this signior but known to the citizen fops,
He'd keep their fine wives from the foremen o'their shops;
But the rascals deserve their horns should still grow
For burning the Pope and his nephew, Dildo.
Tom Killigrew's wife, that Holland fine flower,
At the sight of this signior did fart and belch sour,
And her Dutch breeding the further to show,
Says, 'Welcome to England, Mynheer Van Dildo.'
He civilly came to the Cockpit one night,
And proferred his service to fair Madam Knight.
Quoth she, 'I intrigue with Captain Cazzo;
Your nose in mine arse, good Signior Dildo.'
This signior is sound, safe, ready, and dumb
As ever was candle, carrot, or thumb;
Then away with these nasty devices, and show
How you rate the just merit of Signior Dildo.
Count Cazzo, who carries his nose very high,
In passion he swore his rival should die;
Then shut himself up to let the world know
Flesh and blood could not bear it from Signior Dildo.
A rabble of pricks who were welcome before,
Now finding the porter denied them the door,
Maliciously waited his coming below
And inhumanly fell on Signior Dildo.
Nigh wearied out, the poor stranger did fly,
And along the Pall Mall they followed full cry;
The women concerned from every window
Cried, 'For heaven's sake, save Signior Dildo.'
The good Lady Sandys burst into a laughter
To see how the ballocks came wobbling after,
And had not their weight retarded the foe,
Indeed't had gone hard with Signior Dildo.
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_________________ I was going to say something witty, but then I suddently realised; I couldn't be arsed.
Skrevet: Man 29 Mai 2006, 22:37 |
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Corvus
OoaHelaNatten


Ble Medlem: 13 Feb 2006 Innlegg: 599 Bosted: i en hjerteformet spilledåse
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Egenkomponert:
BEDRAGEREN.
Hun så på drømmen som en sannhet
i sitt forræderiske speil
og med forvrengningen komplett
så hun ikke hun tok feil
Hun trodde på
en dødfødt fantasi
en elsket parodi
en løgn
et selvbedrageri
Ved tjernet sang hun som sirene
til mystikkens fiolin
hun lokket menn til elskovs scene
med et utspekulert grin
Men nå er drøm og løgn forbi
det grydde morgen
han gikk lei
og hun forsto
det var i
nøkkens bekk
hun speilte seg.
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Ellers ligger jeg ute på Dikt.no som Corvus7, og som Winterflower på Deviantart.com , hvis noen vil ha mer...
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_________________ Everybody's Fool
Skrevet: Tor 22 Jun 2006, 23:02 |
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