Yukon Takes on More Poetry

Somehow, and we don't know precisely when it occurred, Yukon became the Witchly Guardian of all things Poetic. Run and hide, ye generators of pointless verse.

Our author for today has chosen to justify her point of view with some rather lengthy Author's Notes. Of course, Yukon will pounce. We know you wouldn't want it any other way.

Keywords: MSR is hinted at, not very much romantic content though (Yukon begs to differ. This entire thing is one big shmoopy gak-o-rama.)

Summary: Scully's thoughts after a hard day. ("Change clothes. Make dinner. Pine pointlessly in bad rhyme over perfectly available partner.")

Disclaimer: Do I own 'em? Am I making any money off of this? Am I CC or 1013? No, no, and no. Guess that's covered. (Thanks for the clarification, author. Many very talented writers were actually concerned there for a moment that you were making a living off this travesty.)

Author's Notes: Hey, guys, I just felt like writing this. (Okay, duh. That's why anybody writes. Why bother the readers with this?) It's about Scully. (The "Scully POV" was kind of a giveaway, author. Are you just writing these notes to see yourself think?) I guess I should tell you that from my perspective Scully is essentially an emotional person who has learned how to repress these emotions out of neccesity. (Okay, except for the misspelling, this observation makes sense.) I also think she just wants to be held. *Waiting to get hit by any number of books.* (Last time I suggested this theory to someone, I ended up getting my head cut off by everyone who heard it.) (Then you're talking to stupid people. Or dead ones. Only a corpse would fail to see that Dana Scully is an exceptionally emotional person who has difficulty handling her emotions.) I personally believe that Scully is a very strong individual. (Wow. You think? What an insight!) Wanting to be held does not meant that you are weak by any stretch of the imagination. (Veering dangerously close to Mary Sue turf here, author.) I consider myself to be strong, but being held is my favorite thing anyway (Ask my boyfriend, Chris). Woah, this is really long, sorry guys. (See, at this point, you can edit. YES! It's called a delete key. Don't apologize, author, just FIX the rambling. Does NO ONE beta read for you?) Anyway, here's the poem. Hope you like it.

Original, Painful Poem from Hell	Yukon's Response

I can see the pain behind your eyes.	Yukon's pain has just begun
I put it there with my unspoken lies.	YOU put it there, and this ain't no fun

You want to know why I don't share.	You want to know why I critique?
Do you really think that I don't care?	Bad poetry makes our community weak

If I showed how I really felt,	If I showed you how much this hurt
My career as a whole would melt.	My arteries would open and blood would spurt

Shy and fragile, weak and scared,	Horrid and trite, cliche and tired
My entire reputation would be scarred.	If this was your job, you would be fired

All this for being a girl in here,	Your years, be they tender or no
It is the boy's club that I fear.	Are no excuse to let this go

If it got out that I could cry,	Perhaps you're concealing that you are smarter
My whole life would shrivel and die.	And you're actually a disguised Chris Carter

I act as if I'm cold as ice.	Couplets are fine, and so is a rhyme
Can you tell that it's only a device?	But contrivances are a waste of our time

What I really want, you want to give.	If you claim to understand Scully
Just a little hand to help me live.	Prove it and don't make her speak so dully

Put your arms around me and hold me tight.	I'll buy self-protecting, and I'll buy lonely
I might just make it through tonight.	But not that those feelings are it; those two only

Nothing you do scares me as much,	Scully values her privacy
At least, not like the feel of your touch.	So this yearning is mostly contrivancy

Draw a deep breath, one and then two,	Her time alone gives her room to think
In and out until I'm over you.	NOT to shrivel and dry like a Shrinky-Dink

I will not come to your side today,	She loves him, heck, she loves him not...
If I did, I don't think I could stay away.	It'll work if you'll eschew this rot

Think of me as I think of you,	She's a complex and layered, intelligent gal
Just hold me tight and we'll make one of two.	Your handling is superficial at best, dear pal

We'll make the problems go away,	Scully doesn't believe in magic potion
We'll finish this up our way.	Curing all is a silly, juvenile notion

I can't let you in, it would burst my shield.	Here's the one couplet that almost works
Can I possibly convince YOU to yield?	But sadly it's lost in the rest of these quirks

I know you're concerned and worried about me,	Borrowing, are we, from all prior fic?
But try to understand, this is the way it must be.	Cloning is shameful and makes readers sick

You should know that I love you, that's all I will say.	She's willing to tell him she loves him? No way.
I adore you more each passing day.	You said just before that she's too scared to play

I cannot show this to you though,	The hackneyed "Our Mission Is Not Yet Done"
We've still got miles left to go.	Is annoying as "Sig" when the author means "gun"

Yet through the travel, in your arms,	Show us depth and strength of emotion
I feel protected from all harms.	Instead of this list-flooding self-promotion.

	The Witch of the Yukon is exhausted and sad
	Unaware before this that poems could be this bad

	She'll rate this then leave, to her lair she'll retire
	'Til another bad posting provokes her great ire.

None evident in the poem. The desperate plea for attention in the author's note is a different story entirely.

Fine, no problems in the poem. One misspelling in the unnecessary author's note.

Scully isn't quite this afraid to show how she feels. Did you actually *watch* "Amor Fati"?

Rather horrid. It's a poem - it requires more work than a story. That means original views, a clear voice, a true sense of who's speaking. And OH, the rhymes were stinky. Ick.