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Post by PokerKitten on Jun 28, 2003 13:50:38 GMT
nightnurse sent me a really lovely poem about JM, but I really don't put RP stuff up in the fanfic section at Bloody Spike. HOWEVER, this is such a pretty, warm piece that I think everyone should see it. Anyone care to add their own James poetry, please do - NO STORIES PLEASE! And I personally think this is a great candidate for the album for James in 2004:
JAMES by nightnurse He's a poet His words can inspire All the passion and fire In your soul He's a singer He sings from the heart Songs that tear you apart With their longing He's a lover He's tender and wild With the eyes of a child Or a sinner He's a man He's strong and he's weak He caresses your cheek And you’re melting
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Post by Incogni2 on Jun 28, 2003 16:30:36 GMT
Oh, sooooooo nicely done, NN! Of course you must do MORE now!
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Post by Ditto on Jun 29, 2003 19:24:10 GMT
Totally excellent.
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Post by Incogni2 on Jul 4, 2003 16:44:21 GMT
Well, this isn't a pretty poem, don't seem to do those... shall have to try sometime, anyway, here it is in one color.
As One Human to Another…By Incogni2
A Master of Disguise Broiling just below the surface Game face presented to the world Comically teasing…a whore of emotion
You’re an actor Own no natural feelings Tune words to song Resonating notes of solitude
Eyes penetrating Seeking a set to match Thrilling to discover a twin depth To fill and languor therein.
Ever sharing darkness In hope of finding light Slapped with misunderstanding Watch salvation fade in retreat
‘Tis a fine line traveled Living passions to extreme Easy to step from love to hate ‘Indifference’ beyond comprehension
Walking too many false trails Overlaying the one you crave Look within to discover without The home of your redemption
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Post by nightnurse on Jul 4, 2003 18:58:50 GMT
;D 12 , THAT is brilliant, I loved the whole poem, especially 'the whore of emotion' I think that captures the life of an actor perfectly.
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Post by Incogni2 on Jul 5, 2003 18:27:55 GMT
Thanks NN! In a bit of a goofy mood...or something... wrote this one this morning...with a certain BS'er in mind Kilt by James’ Kilt ...By Incogni2[/color] It was just a PR tool For the Scotland ‘Liquid’ gig James donned a kilt and an impish smile Causing Eve’s eyes to grow ever so big
And then to make matters worse His knees he kept apart Exposing tight muscular calves Eve’s heart now battling to re-start
Not finished yet, that whorish tease A Lollipop he then employed Lolling, lapping, licking lasciviously Catapulting Eve into a phantasmagoric void
Job now done, James hurried on home Not knowing the cravings he inspired But BS reverberates with Eve’s Hallow moans still In lollipops & kilts…she languishes…forever mired
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Post by HallowsEve on Jul 6, 2003 19:30:18 GMT
Gee, I2....I don't know what to say....'Cept I never realized what an inspiration I could be! First, I get a lovely avi as a gift from Cyrus. And now odes are being written for me...or, for James...James and me. ;D I think it'll have to be a song from the man himself next..."I Lost My Tartan Clad Head to a Woman".
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Post by Cyrus on Jul 13, 2003 6:46:32 GMT
I've been meaning to write this, and tonight my sister came up with a line that just cracked me up, so I had to write the rest. It's the "Ghostbusters" theme (it helps if you listen to it while you read this; makes more sense) with a few new words. This is the original song by Ray Parker Jr.: If there's something strange in your neighborhood Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters! If there's something weird and it don't look good Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!
I ain't afraid of no ghost I ain't afraid of no ghost
If you're seeing things running through your head Who can you call? Ghostbusters! An invisible man sleeping in your bed Oh, who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!
I ain't afraid of no ghost I ain't afraid of no ghost
Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters! If you're all alone, pick up the phone And call Ghostbusters!
I ain't afraid of no ghost I hear it likes the girls I ain't afraid of no ghost Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters! If you've had a dose of a freaky ghost You'd better call Ghostbusters!
Let me tell you something Bustin' makes me feel good
I ain't afraid of no ghost I ain't afraid of no ghost
Don't get caught alone, oh no Ghostbusters! When it comes through your door Unless you just want some more I think you better call Ghostbusters! Ow!
Who you gonna call Ghostbusters!
And here's mine: If you're bored to death and you need some fun Who you gonna call? James Marsters! Got a kinky thought in your twisted mind Who you gonna call? James Marsters!
I need a man like that I need a man like that
You got naked men running through your head Who can you call? James Marsters! Need a man sleeping in your bed? Oh, who you gonna call? James Marsters!
I need a man like that I need a man like that
Who you gonna call? James Marsters! If you're all alone, pick up the phone And call James Marsters!
I need a man like that I hear he likes the girls I need a man like that Oh, oh, oh, oh
Who you gonna call? James Marsters! If you've had your fill of other men You'd better call James Marsters!
Let me tell you something Spankin' makes me feel good*
I need a man like that I need a man like that
Don't get caught alone, oh no James Marsters! When he comes through your door You're gonna want some more I think you better call James Marsters! Oh!
Who you gonna call James Marsters!
*line by my sister; I had a different idea for that line, but it's kind of um... Sorry, this one kind of falls into "piece of meat" category... I'm gonna try to write a better one. Something that's completely original and nicer. I wanted to put the two songs side by side, but tables, especially one that big, are a pain here! Oh ! This takes up most of the page! PK, do whatever you wish. Maybe take out the original lyrics?
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Post by PokerKitten on Jul 13, 2003 11:08:00 GMT
I'm LMAO against my better judegement ;D
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Post by Incogni2 on Jul 15, 2003 4:00:21 GMT
Rather popped into my head while I was out and about tonight...
A Sense Of It By Incogni2
Went for a ride And took you along To share the end of day And find a sense of it.
Pass a scampering squirrel A barking dog gives chase Wind whistling through hair Can you hear it?
Summer’s flowers in bloom Freshly cut grass Dinners sizzle on the grill Can you smell it?
Legs pumping hard Sweet air cleansing lungs Heart racing to the strokes Can you feel it?
Bask in the colors of sunset Azure of your eyes Blush pink of my cheeks Can you see it?
Your sun in my West Evening solitude redefined Pursed lips blow a kiss Can you taste it?
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Post by nightnurse on Jul 15, 2003 22:47:03 GMT
;D That's beautiful I2, nothing more I can say.
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Post by strutsandfrets on Aug 23, 2003 11:09:59 GMT
Delurking because this thread is calling me. I wrote my little thing last year, when I first discovered all that is Spike/James. I was in a man "funk", and "hello cutie" just perked me up out of a 2 year men-suck seclusion. So, here's my Ode To Spike (and by association, James).
Ode to Spike or How to Finally Stop Nursing a Broken Heart and Decide Men are Ok again. (With apologies to Poe)
Once upon a midnight dreary While I drank a lonely beer, he startled heart’s emotions that I heretofore had thought were dead.. Clothed in pain, I’d huddled, swearing, Cold inside and way past caring yet his eyes now have me daring, baring thoughts of thaw instead. Maybe there lies hope ahead.
Suddenly a “hello cutie” Opened up a world of beauty In the face and body of a lean and cranky vampire guy. Curling toes and stomach flutter Came each time I heard him utter with a voice like melting butter, butter dripping down my thigh, “Hello cutie” (Heavy sigh)
Warily I mused “who’s blondie?” How is it that he has conned me into thinking that perhaps I’m not extinct-girl after all? This is fun! I feel I’m waking as from sleep. Life’s for the taking! What’s a heart if not for breaking - One can’t risk life at a crawl. Sometimes soaring’s worth the fall.
I watched on. Oooh, sexy kissing! God, that’s just what I’ve been missing… Time for moping’s over missy, get thee hence out on a date. James’ Spike, so unrestricted, Makes me crave like one addicted- Positively feeling wicked - Hell, I’m only forty-eight! I’ve got things to celebrate.
So, dear James, your craft’s a gift, It gave this southern gal a lift- A jumpstart from the foggy, painful murk a broken heart can bring. I understand Spike’s only fiction, But you see, that British diction Brings to me a certain friction, causing inner cores to sing. Thanks to you, I’ve taken wing.
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Post by PokerKitten on Aug 23, 2003 11:47:48 GMT
Whoa! Another "Hello cutie" devotee! That's when I fell too ;D Excellent stuff, and excellent screen-name too! Welcome to the board
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Post by Incogni2 on Aug 23, 2003 12:46:04 GMT
Nice poem S&F and oh, how so many of us can relate to your ponderings!
I'm I2 (for short) and glad to have someone else posting here, been feeling a bit hoggish!
Didn't see the 'Hello Cutie' ep til after I saw Buffy and Spike get it on...(my screen name should be a 'day late and a dollar short' but that is too freakin long)...'twas that 'look' on his face that got me hooked and to thinking..."oh, yeah, I remember that.. ought to give it another go before I die!" LMAO.
Hope to see you about and welcome aboard!
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Post by Incogni2 on Sept 4, 2003 11:12:27 GMT
Ok, ok, so I'm double posting....**ducks flying broom** ...can't help it if I was the last to post here...
Anyway, wrote this last week thinking about the cons and what must be going thru peoples minds...hehehehe
Stolen Moment (Or A Con-goers Fantasy) By Incogni2
Eyes sustain a stolen moment Two pair smiling in mischief Issuing a dare Yet seeking solace.
‘Twas virginal soft A first meeting Brushing gingerly Hinting a promise of…
Breath caught and held Suspending time to savor A fantasy realized Basking in its sublime tastes.
Tracing lines lightly Tentative turns tantalizing Pulses quicken in tandem Mutual depths to explore.
Tender yields to hunger Breath vocalizes in sighs Color explodes beneath closed lids Empty cravings scream to be filled.
And…”1, 2, 3, smile for the camera!” “Nice to meet you” says James Marsters As you stammer, blush and turn to go “Next”….
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Post by Incogni2 on Sept 28, 2003 23:26:58 GMT
Keeeeeripes PK! I know it's 3 posts in a row...but, er, well I am the DG's Unholy Trinity am I not? course if someone would post in between I might shut up!
Can't help it if words keep rolling round in my head... anyway, this is actually dedicated to ALL the DG's of the 39ish range (yeah, that means you too Ditto!) So, here goes:
September Woman By Incogni2
Circling the playroom floor Lunchbox ripe with evil yellow fruit and plum Can’t comprehend why the girls score poorly Why they leave your senses ever numb.
The blush of spring lies not Upon her time soft cheek Yet her eyes dance mischievously Shining with the answers you seek.
Summer was a passage of fire It’s heat yet to abate One clasps the key to unlock secrets Wields the power to satiate.
She is the September Woman Though born all months of the year ‘Tis the crispness of fall she carries Her touch sure to soothe your fear.
‘Tis still a long season ‘ere winter But the days will blur should you not take heed. Stop wasting time in the schoolyard A September Woman has what you need.
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Post by nightnurse on Sept 28, 2003 23:34:32 GMT
;D Absolutely fabulous, and oh so true! Keep writing..look forward to your odes, I manage about one a year..but I'll see if I can come up with something to save your head from flying broomsticks
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Charlie
Rev Harding
"The difference between courage and cowardice is what you do when you're afraid." (James Marsters)
Posts: 11
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Post by Charlie on Mar 21, 2004 20:43:52 GMT
Another parody, a little out of season though...
'Twas the Night Before Christmas or Account of a Vampire Visit according to Buffy Summers
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the flat Not a creature was stirring, not even Amy the rat; The stakes were all hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that some demons soon would be there;
Cordy was nestled all snug in her bed, With visions of Powers-That-Be in her head; And Dawn in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long Summers' nap,
When out in the cemetery there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a slayer, And out on the street I beheld a new player.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to zombies below, When, what else my wondering eyes should desire, But a corroded old car, and a gorgeous vampire.
A Greek god in a duster, that's what he looked like, I knew in a moment it must be St. Spike. His eyes cold and blue, yet they burnt like a flame, And I felt I was dying as he called out my name;
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, I needed to run, but had no reason why. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, I invited him in and was just like spell-bound.
He was dressed all in leather, made me shiver with lust, His black duster was tarnished with vampire dust; I won't talk of toys, but I had just seen His darkness could take me where I'd never been.
His eyes -- how they sparkled! His forehead so scary! He had cheekbones to die for, I'd never grow weary. The smirk of his lips, every move a big show, And the hair of his head was as white as the snow;
The glow of a cigarette he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; His fangs, how they lengthened, his gaze cold as a stone, And yet for the world I would not be alone.
He was graceful and deadly, yet I could not return, His skin was like ice, yet each kiss was a burn. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had so much to dread;
He spoke not a word, yet his eyes made my day, And I knew I was helpless, he would have his way. As dawn was breaking, he fled from the sun, Leaving me to my thoughts, couldn't change what we'd done.
He sprang to his car, turned the radio on, It was Radio Sunnydale with its most famous song. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "SCARY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A FRIGHT-NIGHT!"
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Post by Pixie on May 15, 2004 10:47:03 GMT
Aha! I've found an appropriate place for my poem (which I mentioned in a different post about writer's block, and said I would post somewhere!)
So here's my little poem, a homage to James, for obvious reasons (read on)... and yes, I know he's not sporting the black-and-gold hair any more (I was at the concert last night, hurrah!)... but this kind of occurred to me at the concert, and thinking back to the one in Paris 2 years ago, where he DID have the half-and-half hair.
So, here goes.
Pied Piper
Summer night, a light hum in the dark air, Warm and cold, mixed together bitter-sweet, Yin-and-Yang contradiction everywhere.
Like a snake charmer, he makes us sway To his tune, following every movment Of the dark and light, even to the grave.
Ivory-skinned, ebony-clad, and hair Of black-gold, he moves with sinuous grace, The snake and the charmer, entrancing care.
Velvet voice against harsh guitars, he sings Of love and death, life and hate, his music Soars high above, setting our hearts on wings.
He dances away, out of reach ahead, Making us dance and follow, carnival Of sounds, colours, on wings of music sped.
We follow in the dance, the Pied Piper Leading and tempting us further, Yin-Yang Embodied in the form of the Piper.
Px
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Post by Pixie on May 15, 2004 10:51:51 GMT
Sorry for double-posting, but... had to say, Charlie, I loved the poem! I liked the original,too, but I'll have a little chuckle to myself every time I read it now! Thank you! And to S&F... OMG, that's BRILLIANT!!!! I loved it. Know how you feel, too, dammit. Px
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