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The poetry topic
- Thread starter Bleach
- Start date
The Shadows Of Your Faded Soul Shall Dance On The Stone Cold Wall Until The End Of Time Comes To Claim Our Planet
this is not how I imagined our end to be
your cold grey body lying face down
the damp red floor faces you with a frown
soaked in your disdainful bloody exhibition
a monument of misery for mankind to see
natural for a suicidal predisposition.
driven away from the collision of properties
where money and fame decide imminent fate
you did not take a begging chance to be great
falling for honesty's foolishness instead
you would draw gushing blood from your arteries
to release the suffocating shame on which it fed.
without regard for who cared because you did not
the knife beckoned you to the darkest nights
illuminating the flaws of your phobic frights
you grabbed the blade to relieve the pressure and pain
it excised your brain of all its senses and thought
and waited for stimuli to vehemently strike again.
only the shadows of your memory will ever dance
forming miserable grey pictures on a badly lit wall
artificial TL-tubes shining just enough for them to crawl
and creep across the surface to scare us survivors
only lifting our eyes for another quick subtle glance
at the labour we made for the futilest of endeavours.
this is not how I imagined our end to be
your cold grey body lying face down
the damp red floor faces you with a frown
soaked in your disdainful bloody exhibition
a monument of misery for mankind to see
natural for a suicidal predisposition.
driven away from the collision of properties
where money and fame decide imminent fate
you did not take a begging chance to be great
falling for honesty's foolishness instead
you would draw gushing blood from your arteries
to release the suffocating shame on which it fed.
without regard for who cared because you did not
the knife beckoned you to the darkest nights
illuminating the flaws of your phobic frights
you grabbed the blade to relieve the pressure and pain
it excised your brain of all its senses and thought
and waited for stimuli to vehemently strike again.
only the shadows of your memory will ever dance
forming miserable grey pictures on a badly lit wall
artificial TL-tubes shining just enough for them to crawl
and creep across the surface to scare us survivors
only lifting our eyes for another quick subtle glance
at the labour we made for the futilest of endeavours.
I like the color theme and the general feel of Altmer's poem /\
also the general feeling, the sort of tingly wow-this-is-nice-but-so-gruesome feeling. :] I suppose I'll respond in kind with this little number..
No stopping this plane from going down
But it's in the news and all over town
The time cannot delay
And for all of those who think
I just doomsay
Someday
That I'll be your love some day
And I'll see that the night won't
Take you away
And I'll try
But you know that my words deny
And you know that they'll never die
Let's restart and go
"Hi, it's nice to meet you
I think I've never seen around you before"
I think
"Why, did I never notice
That you're only one my face
Will redden for?"
And then
"So, how's your day been now?
And if it feels like it's been a dream."
Then I might not be too
Far from knowing
What this feeling means
Stiff wrist
Cold heart
Sad end
Great start
And now
Unfold
Those lies
I've told
That I'd
Give up
And quit
On love
And break
The bonds
That tied
Us both
No fight
All thrill
My time
I kill
And though
It's not
I soon forgot
That you were not my...
That we were not to...
And every time pride...
Would choke me up inside...
I broke out from all the chains
And nothing else but love for you remains
I swear
It's in the air
No end in sight
And all my heart can bear
Let's give it a try
Get back to the start
"Nice meeting you here"
Though we'd seem worlds apart
And I'll give it all back
To just see your smile
Let my words reconcile
And though I can't bear to stare
Much longer now
It doesn't really matter how
Nor what I'd pay
Just for a day
That I could smile back at you
I think that this might be the end
I said a little much, my friend
Though my feelings that I lend
Break so easily, pretend
That I fixed them up
And now
They're yours again
Or not
It's your choice
The rules we bend
It's not too ironic
That this is the end
Yet the
Start-
also the general feeling, the sort of tingly wow-this-is-nice-but-so-gruesome feeling. :] I suppose I'll respond in kind with this little number..
No stopping this plane from going down
But it's in the news and all over town
The time cannot delay
And for all of those who think
I just doomsay
Someday
That I'll be your love some day
And I'll see that the night won't
Take you away
And I'll try
But you know that my words deny
And you know that they'll never die
Let's restart and go
"Hi, it's nice to meet you
I think I've never seen around you before"
I think
"Why, did I never notice
That you're only one my face
Will redden for?"
And then
"So, how's your day been now?
And if it feels like it's been a dream."
Then I might not be too
Far from knowing
What this feeling means
Stiff wrist
Cold heart
Sad end
Great start
And now
Unfold
Those lies
I've told
That I'd
Give up
And quit
On love
And break
The bonds
That tied
Us both
No fight
All thrill
My time
I kill
And though
It's not
I soon forgot
That you were not my...
That we were not to...
And every time pride...
Would choke me up inside...
I broke out from all the chains
And nothing else but love for you remains
I swear
It's in the air
No end in sight
And all my heart can bear
Let's give it a try
Get back to the start
"Nice meeting you here"
Though we'd seem worlds apart
And I'll give it all back
To just see your smile
Let my words reconcile
And though I can't bear to stare
Much longer now
It doesn't really matter how
Nor what I'd pay
Just for a day
That I could smile back at you
I think that this might be the end
I said a little much, my friend
Though my feelings that I lend
Break so easily, pretend
That I fixed them up
And now
They're yours again
Or not
It's your choice
The rules we bend
It's not too ironic
That this is the end
Yet the
Start-
to your awesomeness I answer with this...
Symphony of Misery
got lost in a stupid dream again at night
one of them old ones in black and white
and everything just seemed to fall silent
as if time had yielded to our coming end
except for the howling cold autumn breeze
and the wind stowing up the fallen leaves
just as grey as the rest of the photographs
ashen-faced like the cemetery epitaphs
the faintly coloured coats worn over pale faces
fill all the town square's empty spaces
there's an old couple sitting on a bench
withering as their last breaths are quenched
soon this grey november will turn into winter
and we'll walk under the snows of december
the clouds will make it rain for a thousand years
dropping flakes from the sky like frozen tears.
Symphony of Misery
got lost in a stupid dream again at night
one of them old ones in black and white
and everything just seemed to fall silent
as if time had yielded to our coming end
except for the howling cold autumn breeze
and the wind stowing up the fallen leaves
just as grey as the rest of the photographs
ashen-faced like the cemetery epitaphs
the faintly coloured coats worn over pale faces
fill all the town square's empty spaces
there's an old couple sitting on a bench
withering as their last breaths are quenched
soon this grey november will turn into winter
and we'll walk under the snows of december
the clouds will make it rain for a thousand years
dropping flakes from the sky like frozen tears.
Altmer, I see your incredible Symphony and respond with:
City Beauty
The darkened street is lit by orange
Streetlamps faintly doing their job
A car comes past only so often
To leave the street alone and quiet
The lamps shut off, slowly dimming
The morning comes crisp in winter air
The sun glints past the gutter-rainbows
And no one sees or even cares
Old ladies with no home or bed
Throw crumbs to softly cooing birds
The coldly sparkling air shines off
Tinted windows of five-floor buildings
Cars start past the main streets
Starting off to a brand new week
Driving past the fenced-in playgrounds
Driving past a murky river
Afternoon comes through sharp air
Kids play basketball in chained hoops
A rhythmic chant comes from the corner
A jump rope slaps the solid stones
People dance for tinny speakers
Pushcart vendors sell their wares
Children ask for fresh baked pretzels
Roasted nuts perfume the air
As the street lights come back
To the darkening streets
A single flake falls from the sky
To add with others in a shining blanket
Too soon pushed aside by giant blades
For bloated self-important men
The snow is tossed, the beauty lost
To be rebuilt again
The night falls, and on the streets
A single skein of smoke curls
Up to the sky from a manhole cover
Someone is still there
City Beauty
The darkened street is lit by orange
Streetlamps faintly doing their job
A car comes past only so often
To leave the street alone and quiet
The lamps shut off, slowly dimming
The morning comes crisp in winter air
The sun glints past the gutter-rainbows
And no one sees or even cares
Old ladies with no home or bed
Throw crumbs to softly cooing birds
The coldly sparkling air shines off
Tinted windows of five-floor buildings
Cars start past the main streets
Starting off to a brand new week
Driving past the fenced-in playgrounds
Driving past a murky river
Afternoon comes through sharp air
Kids play basketball in chained hoops
A rhythmic chant comes from the corner
A jump rope slaps the solid stones
People dance for tinny speakers
Pushcart vendors sell their wares
Children ask for fresh baked pretzels
Roasted nuts perfume the air
As the street lights come back
To the darkening streets
A single flake falls from the sky
To add with others in a shining blanket
Too soon pushed aside by giant blades
For bloated self-important men
The snow is tossed, the beauty lost
To be rebuilt again
The night falls, and on the streets
A single skein of smoke curls
Up to the sky from a manhole cover
Someone is still there
Mmm, I'm loving the scenery you paint, Torquol
All for "not"-
Not saying anything
It's not like the words count so much
Not sleeping a wink
But blinking away through life
Like a slideshow
Not seeing the sights
Nor smelling the roses
That's the way life goes
Not taking time
She gave you it all
Not getting up
When you trip and fall
So sore from a race
That you fell on your face
Venus from her shell
You wipe off the dust
And tell them you're fine
Not burning the proof
That you hoped would justify
Existence together
Not alone in loneliness
Just look behind you
And you'll find the desert
They say is full of fish
All for "not"-
Not saying anything
It's not like the words count so much
Not sleeping a wink
But blinking away through life
Like a slideshow
Not seeing the sights
Nor smelling the roses
That's the way life goes
Not taking time
She gave you it all
Not getting up
When you trip and fall
So sore from a race
That you fell on your face
Venus from her shell
You wipe off the dust
And tell them you're fine
Not burning the proof
That you hoped would justify
Existence together
Not alone in loneliness
Just look behind you
And you'll find the desert
They say is full of fish
Oh man, I adore poetry. I mainly write satire and comedy in an attempt to skewer the common forms of poetry you see these days, like Love/Romance and Angst/Emo, and all that good stuff. The following poem I wrote as a satire of love poetry and the entire concept of the "union of two souls"... I hope you enjoy it!
Let Us Be One (a love poem)
Let's be together now, dear
For the night has just begun
I am quite hungry for you
So why not let us be one?
Your taste would be complete, love
But I've cooked you far too long
You loved the wine I'm drinking
So why don't you go along?
I can't handle all your love
And swallow it while it's whole
Instead I shall substitute
All your entrails in a bowl
You have never seemed your best
You've never looked so great
I'll read The Joy of Cooking
While your head is on my plate
I'm sorry now you're gone, dear
I would think we are quite through
Something I'll never make, though
Are reservations... for two
Let Us Be One (a love poem)
Let's be together now, dear
For the night has just begun
I am quite hungry for you
So why not let us be one?
Your taste would be complete, love
But I've cooked you far too long
You loved the wine I'm drinking
So why don't you go along?
I can't handle all your love
And swallow it while it's whole
Instead I shall substitute
All your entrails in a bowl
You have never seemed your best
You've never looked so great
I'll read The Joy of Cooking
While your head is on my plate
I'm sorry now you're gone, dear
I would think we are quite through
Something I'll never make, though
Are reservations... for two
I'm a poetry nooblet, but here goes. :x
Oh, how the Willow tree weeps
Its kindred lost among the hum
Its tears falling down onto the ruined ground
Oh, how the Bird weeps
Its song a mournful glum
Its tears falling down onto the blackened sky
Oh, how the Wolf weeps
Its howl incredibly numb
Its tears falling down onto the barren land
Oh, how Man weeps
His devastation there is no escape from
His tears falling down onto the crying Earth
Oh, how the Willow tree weeps
Its kindred lost among the hum
Its tears falling down onto the ruined ground
Oh, how the Bird weeps
Its song a mournful glum
Its tears falling down onto the blackened sky
Oh, how the Wolf weeps
Its howl incredibly numb
Its tears falling down onto the barren land
Oh, how Man weeps
His devastation there is no escape from
His tears falling down onto the crying Earth
THE CROCODILE'S TOOTHACHE
Shel Silverstein
The Crocodile
Went to the dentist
And sat down in the chair
And the dentist said, "Now tell me, sir,
Why does it hurt and where?"
And the Crocodile said, "I'll tell you the truth,
I have a terrible ache in my tooth,"
And he opened his jaws so wide, so wide,
That the dentist, he climbed right inside,
And the dentist laughed, "Oh isn't this fun?"
as he pulled the teeth out, one by one.
And the Crocodile cried, "You're hurting me so!
Please put down your pliers and let me go."
But the dentist just laughed with a Ho Ho Ho,
And he said, "I still have twelve to go --
Oops, that's the wrong one, I confess,
But what's one crocodile tooth, more or less?"
Then suddenly, the jaws went SNAP,
And the dentist was gone, right off the map,
And where he went one could only guess...
To North or South or East or West...
He left no forwarding address.
But what's one dentist, more or less?
A good poem by one of my favorite poets but also an excuse for me to post this:
Shel Silverstein
The Crocodile
Went to the dentist
And sat down in the chair
And the dentist said, "Now tell me, sir,
Why does it hurt and where?"
And the Crocodile said, "I'll tell you the truth,
I have a terrible ache in my tooth,"
And he opened his jaws so wide, so wide,
That the dentist, he climbed right inside,
And the dentist laughed, "Oh isn't this fun?"
as he pulled the teeth out, one by one.
And the Crocodile cried, "You're hurting me so!
Please put down your pliers and let me go."
But the dentist just laughed with a Ho Ho Ho,
And he said, "I still have twelve to go --
Oops, that's the wrong one, I confess,
But what's one crocodile tooth, more or less?"
Then suddenly, the jaws went SNAP,
And the dentist was gone, right off the map,
And where he went one could only guess...
To North or South or East or West...
He left no forwarding address.
But what's one dentist, more or less?
A good poem by one of my favorite poets but also an excuse for me to post this:
The turtle lives 'twixt plated decks,
Which practically conceal its sex.
I think it clever of the turtle,
In such a fix to stay so fertile.
- Ogden Nash
:)
Edit:
I found this in my binder from last year, I don't remember writing it, but it's kinda nice in places. I have a feeling that it (like most of my poetry) was written more as a rap than a poem, since it doesn't follow any specific meter, and it gets a little fucked towards the end, but I like the first two stanzas.
It's math class, I'm tired and my binder's a mess.
Scribbled rhymes adorn the lines of would-be notes and failed tests.
My body's beggin' for sleep, but my mind won't let it rest.
And I'll never get a wink unless I get this off my chest.
It's a snowy day in hell and the ocean caught on fire.
Burning bridges feed the blaze and the flames keep risin' higher.
My mind is on the fritz and my life is on the wire;
Feelin' kinda like Frodo, and this planet is my Shire.
But where's my Gandolf, where's my Sam? Must I walk this path alone?
We see our destinies unfolding, but they aren't cast in stone.
We have the choice, we have the power to make our fate our own,
But we must rise above the lies before the truth can be known.
I'm dizzy, I'm light-headed, and my mind begins to slip
Into subconsciousness, my waking self can't help but lose its grip
On reality: a fading, evanescent movie clip.
And looking forward, never back; I think I'm ready for my trip.
Also: This was written by a guy who used to go to my high school, Mo Kahn. He's one of the most intelligent people I've ever met.
non-resident identity
east is east and west is west/ and never the twain shall meet// i'm running out of patience/ sense my situation/ tense, my ancient body burns/ i learn to bend and turn in self-defence/ self preservation/ cultural invasion/ ethnic mastication/ race-and-nation separation/ face it; nothing sates this age of information// second-generation asian rage/ engaged in recitation/ put my fate into rotation/ mired in contemplation/ tired of waiting for my compensation/ recompense/ i recommence/ i recommend you reconsider your attempts at reconciliation/ rehabilitation/ from your station you catch the scent of rising incense/ thick, but not disguising my societal demise/ my culture's immolation/ it's immense, but then, are you surprised?// NRI/ paradesi/ made to see my race the way they see it/ day-to-day their prostrate grace/ is what i'm faced with/ hate is hastily replaced/ displaced by warm embraces/ great/ but what's it laced with?/ wait until i'm wasted/ seal my fate// exoticize/ eroticize me/ cauterize my conscious highs/ you're carbon-copying me down to size// my star is rising from the east/ my native tongue is unleashed/ scarred/ but each and every part of my speech/ hearkens to the drone of the sitar/ aur kitna beqaraar hai mera intezaar/ it's hard// i'm yearning/ like a cut sardar returning to his turban/ disregard this urban darkness/ i'm unhesitant to learn/ and unconcerned with/ near and far/ it's evident/ that home/ is more than where you are/ a global resident/ remembering the past but living in the present// embers of your pleasant trust/ combust and turn to conscious dust/ we must adjust/ there is/ no justice./ just us.//
NRI: non-resident-Indian, common term for South Asian immigrants
paradesi: Hindi for "stranger", especially to the country, immigrant
"aur kinta ... intezaar": Urdu for "and how chaotic is my wait"
cut sardar: a Sikh who shaves and chooses not to wear a turban
Which practically conceal its sex.
I think it clever of the turtle,
In such a fix to stay so fertile.
- Ogden Nash
:)
Edit:
I found this in my binder from last year, I don't remember writing it, but it's kinda nice in places. I have a feeling that it (like most of my poetry) was written more as a rap than a poem, since it doesn't follow any specific meter, and it gets a little fucked towards the end, but I like the first two stanzas.
It's math class, I'm tired and my binder's a mess.
Scribbled rhymes adorn the lines of would-be notes and failed tests.
My body's beggin' for sleep, but my mind won't let it rest.
And I'll never get a wink unless I get this off my chest.
It's a snowy day in hell and the ocean caught on fire.
Burning bridges feed the blaze and the flames keep risin' higher.
My mind is on the fritz and my life is on the wire;
Feelin' kinda like Frodo, and this planet is my Shire.
But where's my Gandolf, where's my Sam? Must I walk this path alone?
We see our destinies unfolding, but they aren't cast in stone.
We have the choice, we have the power to make our fate our own,
But we must rise above the lies before the truth can be known.
I'm dizzy, I'm light-headed, and my mind begins to slip
Into subconsciousness, my waking self can't help but lose its grip
On reality: a fading, evanescent movie clip.
And looking forward, never back; I think I'm ready for my trip.
Also: This was written by a guy who used to go to my high school, Mo Kahn. He's one of the most intelligent people I've ever met.
non-resident identity
east is east and west is west/ and never the twain shall meet// i'm running out of patience/ sense my situation/ tense, my ancient body burns/ i learn to bend and turn in self-defence/ self preservation/ cultural invasion/ ethnic mastication/ race-and-nation separation/ face it; nothing sates this age of information// second-generation asian rage/ engaged in recitation/ put my fate into rotation/ mired in contemplation/ tired of waiting for my compensation/ recompense/ i recommence/ i recommend you reconsider your attempts at reconciliation/ rehabilitation/ from your station you catch the scent of rising incense/ thick, but not disguising my societal demise/ my culture's immolation/ it's immense, but then, are you surprised?// NRI/ paradesi/ made to see my race the way they see it/ day-to-day their prostrate grace/ is what i'm faced with/ hate is hastily replaced/ displaced by warm embraces/ great/ but what's it laced with?/ wait until i'm wasted/ seal my fate// exoticize/ eroticize me/ cauterize my conscious highs/ you're carbon-copying me down to size// my star is rising from the east/ my native tongue is unleashed/ scarred/ but each and every part of my speech/ hearkens to the drone of the sitar/ aur kitna beqaraar hai mera intezaar/ it's hard// i'm yearning/ like a cut sardar returning to his turban/ disregard this urban darkness/ i'm unhesitant to learn/ and unconcerned with/ near and far/ it's evident/ that home/ is more than where you are/ a global resident/ remembering the past but living in the present// embers of your pleasant trust/ combust and turn to conscious dust/ we must adjust/ there is/ no justice./ just us.//
NRI: non-resident-Indian, common term for South Asian immigrants
paradesi: Hindi for "stranger", especially to the country, immigrant
"aur kinta ... intezaar": Urdu for "and how chaotic is my wait"
cut sardar: a Sikh who shaves and chooses not to wear a turban
Ok, so I thought I was a decent poet, and then I read this thread! Now I'm just hoping to get some critique. I'm told I use overly verbose words too often. I also have poor sense of meter. Anyways here's something recent of mine:
Flail
Lashed out at all
Wrapping time around my finger
I touched the beginning to the end
A truth unwanted surfaced
Against which I could not defend
Vague lifetimes sped by
Driven by contempt
Propelling my embrace
Of blame; the object of my obsession
Rationale leaving without a trace
Moonlight trickled down
Sweeping fingers across my mind
Soothing my burnt being
Creeping further, my spirit touched
And I was suddenly seeing
I noticed a light had lingered
Somewhere above your grave
Throwing light upon uncertainty
Your death mine, as was your love
With this I did not disagree
And I flailed
Inwards; upon myself
Outwards; upon the world
Omnisciently; upon all being
My conscience having been unfurled
Flail
Lashed out at all
Wrapping time around my finger
I touched the beginning to the end
A truth unwanted surfaced
Against which I could not defend
Vague lifetimes sped by
Driven by contempt
Propelling my embrace
Of blame; the object of my obsession
Rationale leaving without a trace
Moonlight trickled down
Sweeping fingers across my mind
Soothing my burnt being
Creeping further, my spirit touched
And I was suddenly seeing
I noticed a light had lingered
Somewhere above your grave
Throwing light upon uncertainty
Your death mine, as was your love
With this I did not disagree
And I flailed
Inwards; upon myself
Outwards; upon the world
Omnisciently; upon all being
My conscience having been unfurled
I am not a native English speaker, so this one may seem unnatural. It is mixed poetry, half-portuguese and half-english. It might be fine for bilingual people, though. Exquisite Weirdings talks about a false friend.
Exquisite Weirdings --- Guilherme Mendes
Your gaze seemed absent of confusion
Should your ravenous role stretch the hole
Tempt my blood into deep collusion
Excavate these exquisite human beings
They used to be weird
Porque o esquisito é bonito
E não nego esquisitice alguma
Your pure soul has severed into hundred pieces
Moldered by crude limbs, cemented with hatred
Escaldado com raiva, despedaçado esôfago
Órgão do falar, henceforth não salutar.
---
Exquisite Weirdings --- Guilherme Mendes
Your gaze seemed absent of confusion
Should your ravenous role stretch the hole
Tempt my blood into deep collusion
Excavate these exquisite human beings
They used to be weird
Porque o esquisito é bonito
E não nego esquisitice alguma
Your pure soul has severed into hundred pieces
Moldered by crude limbs, cemented with hatred
Escaldado com raiva, despedaçado esôfago
Órgão do falar, henceforth não salutar.
---
"The End Foreseen"
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night,
I saw the black crow take flight.
It's wings spread out from it's sides
It's wistful self following the dark moonlight.
Following the crow down a path of darkness,
I see the crow stop to rest.
It knows what is coming next.
The crow's eyes show the pain that it suffers hurts,
Getting ready for the worst.
He drops dead, leaving his body with no soul.
The life he had is no more.
I was forced to write poetry by my English teacher. So this is what I came up with. First poem I have written in 1 year. I might as well post it here.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night,
I saw the black crow take flight.
It's wings spread out from it's sides
It's wistful self following the dark moonlight.
Following the crow down a path of darkness,
I see the crow stop to rest.
It knows what is coming next.
The crow's eyes show the pain that it suffers hurts,
Getting ready for the worst.
He drops dead, leaving his body with no soul.
The life he had is no more.
I was forced to write poetry by my English teacher. So this is what I came up with. First poem I have written in 1 year. I might as well post it here.
So close to a syllable scheme, it just hurts me that it one of the lines doesn't hit syncopation.
----
Take away the glamour
Take away the sounds and light
Copy all the minor details
Appeal the erudite
Measure all the qualities
And qualify the specs
Not to mean any disrespect
But if I was this from the very beginning
Would it all be different?
Perhaps the lion needs his mane
Much like vanity placates the vain
Sometimes poets lose their reason
And rhyme to match the season
Falling deeper into the idyllic warmth
Of somersaulting backwards into
That black abyss
Excuse me, Miss
Pardon my intrusion
Is that smile on you a kiss?
Or just my painful self-delusion
Are these wounds just merely mental
How the words and mumbles mar
Why is doubt so sentimental
When the burden is my scar?
Bare-
----
Take away the glamour
Take away the sounds and light
Copy all the minor details
Appeal the erudite
Measure all the qualities
And qualify the specs
Not to mean any disrespect
But if I was this from the very beginning
Would it all be different?
Perhaps the lion needs his mane
Much like vanity placates the vain
Sometimes poets lose their reason
And rhyme to match the season
Falling deeper into the idyllic warmth
Of somersaulting backwards into
That black abyss
Excuse me, Miss
Pardon my intrusion
Is that smile on you a kiss?
Or just my painful self-delusion
Are these wounds just merely mental
How the words and mumbles mar
Why is doubt so sentimental
When the burden is my scar?
Bare-
I really like most of the poems here especially Altmer's misery poems.
I had to write a poem for english class on goals, journeys, and dreams so I may as well post it here. I'm a noob poet so this may not be very good.
An Empty Journey
The cloud in the sky
Travels aimlessly
Through the open blue
With no destination in mind.
It looks down below and sees,
Kids playing sports, hoping to become professional athletes,
Animals scavenging the land, craving to find mates,
Buds growing, eager to bloom one day,
Trees standing proud, wishing for a long life.
The cloud is depressed
At the sight of so many desires,
So many aspirations that may come true,
Knowing that none of its own yearnings
Will ever become reality.
The cloud is fated
To voyage onward
For eternity
With no destination in mind.
Meanwhile below,
A team is rejoicing over a big victory,
Two birds are celebrating as their eggs hatch,
Flowers are blooming, finally able to show off their vibrant patterns,
And the trees still stand proud.
They are all exuberant to have reached their ambitions,
To know that their pursuit is over.
But up in the sky,
The cloud is downcast
To know it’ll never experience such bliss.
The cloud still journeys,
Doomed for all eons,
Floating on and on
With no destination in mind.
I had to write a poem for english class on goals, journeys, and dreams so I may as well post it here. I'm a noob poet so this may not be very good.
An Empty Journey
The cloud in the sky
Travels aimlessly
Through the open blue
With no destination in mind.
It looks down below and sees,
Kids playing sports, hoping to become professional athletes,
Animals scavenging the land, craving to find mates,
Buds growing, eager to bloom one day,
Trees standing proud, wishing for a long life.
The cloud is depressed
At the sight of so many desires,
So many aspirations that may come true,
Knowing that none of its own yearnings
Will ever become reality.
The cloud is fated
To voyage onward
For eternity
With no destination in mind.
Meanwhile below,
A team is rejoicing over a big victory,
Two birds are celebrating as their eggs hatch,
Flowers are blooming, finally able to show off their vibrant patterns,
And the trees still stand proud.
They are all exuberant to have reached their ambitions,
To know that their pursuit is over.
But up in the sky,
The cloud is downcast
To know it’ll never experience such bliss.
The cloud still journeys,
Doomed for all eons,
Floating on and on
With no destination in mind.
I find it easier, more cathartic, and simply more gratifying when I write poems with a bleak attitude... I have more of those. I like them the most, usually.
Juxtaposition: The Dark Side Of The Day
"Regnum qui ascendisse, peribit."
The moon is an errant thief in the night,
Swiftly stealing away the day from the earth.
Under its watchful eyes a fading world sighs,
And wearily moans at its nemesis' birth.
When the owls begin to leave their trees,
Searching for rats on the faint forest floor,
Cats prowl dark alleys in a city valley,
Frogs crawl through mud on a deserted moor.
When snakes slither and slide through sand and heat,
Wolves' lungs battle for breath as their owners howl.
And the Gods draw swords with a devilish breed.
The clash in heavens under the shining stars,
Subsides as the sun rises with a scowl,
And the kingdom of hell is forever marred.
I write them in English, without prior translations. Translations tend to look silly.
editing because I have another doom-and-gloom one
Lost In The Mirror
such a bleak vision
when you look in the mirror
do you see what I do?
such a bleak vision
and my head hangs low
the chain's 'round my neck
ever bearing the burden
under february street lamps
and lost railroad tracks
such a bleak vision
when you look in the mirror
do you see my tears?
such a bleak vision
when you look at my face
do you hate my gaze?
in the headlights I walk
yellow and blue monsters
tie me up before I die
such a bleak vision
looking out the window
do you see me waiting?
such a bleak vision
destroying a lost life
it doesn't matter anyway
they found my body broken
they see the bleak vision
but I see them no more.
editing because I have another doom-and-gloom one
Lost In The Mirror
such a bleak vision
when you look in the mirror
do you see what I do?
such a bleak vision
and my head hangs low
the chain's 'round my neck
ever bearing the burden
under february street lamps
and lost railroad tracks
such a bleak vision
when you look in the mirror
do you see my tears?
such a bleak vision
when you look at my face
do you hate my gaze?
in the headlights I walk
yellow and blue monsters
tie me up before I die
such a bleak vision
looking out the window
do you see me waiting?
such a bleak vision
destroying a lost life
it doesn't matter anyway
they found my body broken
they see the bleak vision
but I see them no more.
Hope this ones a little less gloomy and easier to comprehend =] I do consider myself a voice for the commoner, after all ^_^
Found
Abandoned again
Accused of the same
Insanity ends
Why
Did I ever try
To see through this
time and time, out of line
now I'm blind
to everything
though not anything
that I would consider as right
When was it said
I was right in the head?
and what would I do
when I can't promise you
that I'll be there all the time
that I'll balance that fine line
that I'll always be true
I'm not faithful
but neither are you
this silver lining I'm surrounded in
isn't it grand?
it makes me hate every time
and every damn plan
to hope that you put down that fence
when I couldn't even hop over mine...
I resign
maybe for once
I'll get my head out of the clouds
for that special someone
left on the ground
and I'll cherish the day
when she's...
Found-
Found
Abandoned again
Accused of the same
Insanity ends
Why
Did I ever try
To see through this
time and time, out of line
now I'm blind
to everything
though not anything
that I would consider as right
When was it said
I was right in the head?
and what would I do
when I can't promise you
that I'll be there all the time
that I'll balance that fine line
that I'll always be true
I'm not faithful
but neither are you
this silver lining I'm surrounded in
isn't it grand?
it makes me hate every time
and every damn plan
to hope that you put down that fence
when I couldn't even hop over mine...
I resign
maybe for once
I'll get my head out of the clouds
for that special someone
left on the ground
and I'll cherish the day
when she's...
Found-
This probably sucks
The Riders of The Icy Wastes
As the light of the moon emerges from night,
As the wolves of the fen begin to howl,
The blasting winds swirl in the dark,
And the icy rime scours the earth,
Riders stalk the icy wastes,
Inhuman seeming to prowl this night
Lusting and drooling for plunder and blood
To wreak destruction on the innocent and good
(note, I don't make an effort to rhyme, if it happens, it happens)
Evil their faces, red their swords
Monsters haunting the frozen fields
Advancing towards a sleeping town
To burn and kill to heart's content.
An alarm is sounded, alas too late
The raiders in force have won the night
The knights of the village were slain in sleep
Leaving but the maidens and babes.
The murder begins on the icy night
The fate of this village has been engraved
All will die, none will be spared
And none will know where this took place.
The horrors have faded with the passage of time
The fields are green, the bodies are gone
The future knows not of the demonic breed
The riders who slew in winter nights.
Forgotten forever is this nameless village
Lost to the centuries, buried under time.
Not even the spirits haunt it now.
The Riders of The Icy Wastes
As the light of the moon emerges from night,
As the wolves of the fen begin to howl,
The blasting winds swirl in the dark,
And the icy rime scours the earth,
Riders stalk the icy wastes,
Inhuman seeming to prowl this night
Lusting and drooling for plunder and blood
To wreak destruction on the innocent and good
(note, I don't make an effort to rhyme, if it happens, it happens)
Evil their faces, red their swords
Monsters haunting the frozen fields
Advancing towards a sleeping town
To burn and kill to heart's content.
An alarm is sounded, alas too late
The raiders in force have won the night
The knights of the village were slain in sleep
Leaving but the maidens and babes.
The murder begins on the icy night
The fate of this village has been engraved
All will die, none will be spared
And none will know where this took place.
The horrors have faded with the passage of time
The fields are green, the bodies are gone
The future knows not of the demonic breed
The riders who slew in winter nights.
Forgotten forever is this nameless village
Lost to the centuries, buried under time.
Not even the spirits haunt it now.
This is from my favourite song by Anastacia, my own poems I feel a bit odd putting up their just too personal. Anywho...
Pieces of a Dream
I thought I saw you late last night
But it was just a flash of light
An angel passing
But I remember yesterday
Life before you went away
And we were laughing
We had hope and,
now it's broken
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
And now I'm lost in restless nights
Just a whisper of the life
That we created
Shadows falling
I am calling
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
The faded photographs
The frames of broken glass
The shattered memories
Time will soon erase
All these souvenirs
Falls from a thousand tears
But when I wake up you are never there
We had hope and,
now it's broken
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
Pieces of a dream.
Pieces of a Dream
I thought I saw you late last night
But it was just a flash of light
An angel passing
But I remember yesterday
Life before you went away
And we were laughing
We had hope and,
now it's broken
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
And now I'm lost in restless nights
Just a whisper of the life
That we created
Shadows falling
I am calling
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
The faded photographs
The frames of broken glass
The shattered memories
Time will soon erase
All these souvenirs
Falls from a thousand tears
But when I wake up you are never there
We had hope and,
now it's broken
And I could see it clearly once
When you were here with me
And now somehow all that's left are
Pieces of a dream
Pieces of a dream.
This one's one I wrote a couple months back:
Palettes:
What can I say?
Words so unimportant that
I need to scramble the message,
SO let mii DecOrATE it in some
r1Ð1(µ£0µ$ (r42¥ m4nn3r...
[[wrap]] it in r4nÐ0m $ymb0ls
to disguise my guise,
Never really caring how I sling lies,
@|..|þ 1 r€@££¥ §|-|0µ£þ|..|'7 b€ §µpr¡§€þ..
(and I really shouldn't be suprised..)
wh3n s41d l13s
st4rt t0 c4ps1z3
m¥ dr34m sh1p,
m¥ 3nt3rpr1s3..
It's so hard on the eyes to see you flail by yourself,
Wracked with the pain from the stress on your eyes once
You cast aside that one freedom and just fuck up your
Flow.
4Ðv1(3 7h3¥ 94v3 m3 7h47
I never really understood
<<::==[...w3££ h1ÐÐ3n...]==::>>
Between shit people cant understand,
@|..|þ 7|-|€ |-|¡þþ€|..| £¡€§ ¡ þ€ç0r@7€ 70 @77r@ç7 7|-|€ @77€|..|7¡0|..| ¡ þ€§€r../€...
(and the hidden lies I decorate to attract the attention I deserve...)
Fuck who I step on, and
Fuck who I |-|µ|27...
I'll say whatever bullshit to make this work.
To make people talk, make the topic about me.
Whether proud, or
Whether they speak negatively...
TheY WiiLL TaLk @BoUt ME.
me...
Palettes:
What can I say?
Words so unimportant that
I need to scramble the message,
SO let mii DecOrATE it in some
r1Ð1(µ£0µ$ (r42¥ m4nn3r...
[[wrap]] it in r4nÐ0m $ymb0ls
to disguise my guise,
Never really caring how I sling lies,
@|..|þ 1 r€@££¥ §|-|0µ£þ|..|'7 b€ §µpr¡§€þ..
(and I really shouldn't be suprised..)
wh3n s41d l13s
st4rt t0 c4ps1z3
m¥ dr34m sh1p,
m¥ 3nt3rpr1s3..
It's so hard on the eyes to see you flail by yourself,
Wracked with the pain from the stress on your eyes once
You cast aside that one freedom and just fuck up your
Flow.
4Ðv1(3 7h3¥ 94v3 m3 7h47
I never really understood
<<::==[...w3££ h1ÐÐ3n...]==::>>
Between shit people cant understand,
@|..|þ 7|-|€ |-|¡þþ€|..| £¡€§ ¡ þ€ç0r@7€ 70 @77r@ç7 7|-|€ @77€|..|7¡0|..| ¡ þ€§€r../€...
(and the hidden lies I decorate to attract the attention I deserve...)
Fuck who I step on, and
Fuck who I |-|µ|27...
I'll say whatever bullshit to make this work.
To make people talk, make the topic about me.
Whether proud, or
Whether they speak negatively...
TheY WiiLL TaLk @BoUt ME.
me...