Hello, I'm Jas. I've been a member of FanFiction.net for more years than I can count (on varying accounts).
I'm predominately interested in Harry Potter, but I dabble depending on my Netflix Que. I love Doctor Who as well, but I don't think I have the skill to write too much in that. I've got plenty of ideas, but I publish very few of them, if any.
If you need to reach me, you can do so at jamoia@. You have a better chance of getting an answer there than you do with a PM. I'd love to talk to any of you, especially if you're interested in bouncing around ideas.
Below are some of my favorite poems and excerpts.
Hope is the Thing with Feathers; Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm,
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
The New Colossus; Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch,
Whose flame is the imprisoned lightning,
And her name Mother of Exiles.
From her beacon-hand glows world-wide welcome;
Her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!"
Cries she with silent lips.
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Rain; From the FanFiction "Unintentionally Yours by Dinkel"
One wise old man once told me that waters are like tears,
And tears, despite their sadness, are nothing you should fear.
The wise old man said to me, they wash away your pain,
And fears, despite your struggling, are going down the drain.
So you as well stop fighting, and hold your head up high,
Cause rain is just like teardrops, falling from the sky.
The Fifth of November; English Folk Verse
The Fifth of November;
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot.
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes and his companions,
Did the scheme contrive,
To blow the King and Parliament,
All up alive.
Threescore barrels, laid below,
To prove old England's overthrow;
But by God's providence,
Him they catch, with a dark lantern,
Lighting a match!
A stick and a stake,
For King James' sake!
If you won't give me one,
I'll take two,
The better for me,
And the worse for you.
A rope, a rope,
To hang the Pope;
A farthing worth of cheese to choke.
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
And a faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar,
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head,
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!
The Matt Silver (4)
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