Asylum Haiku (aka Lester's Doppelganger)
**lester:** whatever you say, benjamin franklin, master poet of our times... **guard:** oh, please! in fact, i've just remembered this one that i had made up recently.
Where do we fit in ?
Nothing special : i'm not part of the town, not born to be king just somebody hopelessly in-between i'm the scholar, they are the athlete, the poet i'm the screw up, don't i know it why do they keep wanting me to compare?
Short Poetry Collection
I was a poet long before i ever wrote short stories much less furry smut. digging through my laptop i found some old poems i wrote during my senior year of high school. one of them compares me to transforming into a tiger. that's kinda yiffy i guess.
Moon Phased (Imported from FIMfiction)
"i had no idea you were a poet." you nod your head weakly, struggling to find words to say. "i also had no idea you wrote romance..." she adds with a quick wink. you blush so fiercely you wouldn't doubt you were glowing.
The Far Side of Immortal
Nick tried to remember some of the songs he'd heard in his life, before songs and their singers were erased completely, before the bones of the last poets turned to dust.
Intimate Lessons
You're not a professor, you're a poet, and you're smitten by little old me?" tik tik slams the book shut and closes her eyes, taking a quick few gulps of her drink before she slams it down. "if you must know.
Jo'akora The Dragonmage
As a summary, from our collective experiences with jo'akora, i can write with confidence that he is a powerful mage, a mighty warrior, and a writer and poet. a khajiit of many talents.
Just Once: HOUSE HUNTING!
Anyways, every single owner was a romantic poet, and there were 32 owners. none of them were single when they died, but they all were when they moved in. life can be fucking insane sometimes, with these coincidences."
Hitting the Town
I tried my best to get back into a good mood as i proclaimed: "one of my ancestors was a fairly well-known poet, and i wanted to go to the bookstore and see if any of his works are there." i said enthusiastically.
The Guide
I plodded along mile after mile, cursing the beloved new england poet, and searching for familiar landmarks, only to find none.
War's Oversight - Chapter 00 (Prologue)
The philosophical poet, trying to find the moral lesson in such a thing, might point out, "the bullet, if one ever whizzed by the collective head of the human species, was something cast, jacketed, loaded, and fired by humankind's own steady hands."
A Word From Our Sponsor
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