Official Poetry Thread

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by See Emily Play, Mar 17, 2010.

  1. Why has no one thought of this? I've seen a lot of threads with people's poetry, and I thought it'd be kinda cool to have them all in the same place..

    Post your poetry and/or lyrics, poems you like, advice on writing poems - Anything goes:)

    Couple of mine:

    Reach for the Stars?

    Little girl, jumping on the trampoline
    Each time higher, reaching for a dream
    Little girl, so drunk on freedom
    Willing to leave this world for a piece of heaven
    Trapped in a moment of glowing bliss
    Arms outstretched, begging for one last kiss
    Little girl, your legs will tire and your heart grow cold
    You can't run on magic and fairy dust until you get old
    Numb feet hit cold, dark plastic
    False hope - Almost there; almost ecstatic
    One jump higher 'til you reach the sky
    You don't care where you land or how high you fly

    Little girl, look closer at the world you've given up all for
    The moon's smile has now turned scornful
    The once welcoming stars are whispering, laughing, mocking you
    That world's filled with lost souls and broken dreams; none of it was true
    Intoxicating ambition, but you're no longer welcome
    They knew all along you'd never reach their kingdom


    Going Nowhere Slowly


    A pair of shoes that I'll never grow into
    A dusty guitar that I'll never sing to
    A thousand page book that I'll never read
    I've got all I want,
    I want what I don't need

    A dream too big to fit me
    Not enough ambition to get where I could be
    I'll curl up tight in my little box
    And forget what I never had, and all I ever lost


    Flawed Logic

    You said two and two is always four
    The sun always smiles
    And the rain never pours

    Left is never right
    And right is never wrong
    Up is never down
    And short is never long

    You used small words to tell me
    And reassured my worried frown
    Left will never be right
    And up will never be down

    I can't find the numbers, letters or words
    I've lost all my nouns, adjectives and verbs

    The sun is crying
    And down is learning to fly
    Left has started writing
    Poems in the sky

    The roof is collapsing
    Inward eruption, my mind's relapsing
    Everything has disappeared without a sound
    Your ABC's can't save me now
     
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  2. #2 epiq, Mar 18, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 18, 2010
    Here's mine that I posted in a thread I made. Only had a couple of comments.

    Your poems are great, the last one is my favorite.

    1

    I soar with angels, Yet I walk amongst men.
    My soul is alive, Yet my body is dead.
    My eyes see the world, Yet my mind rots away.
    My hands preform miracles, Yet my muscles are weak.
    My heart tries to run, Yet my legs come undone.
    I could do so much, Yet I do nothing at all.

    We soar with angels, Yet we walk amongst men.
    Our souls are alive, Yet our bodies are dead.
    Our eyes see the world, Yet our minds rot away.
    Our hands preform miracles, Yet our muscles are weak.
    Our hearts try to run, Yet our legs come undone.
    We could do so much, Yet we do nothing at all.
    We could do so much, Yet we do nothing at all.

    2

    Send me away, I can't be here
    I'm lost in my own mind
    I'm bound to sounds, and words
    Only what's heard
    If only you could know, me
    Be, me
    Feel, me
    Taste, me
    Free, me!
    My mind needs me, I must be more than I can be
    Kill, me
    Thrill, me
    Fill, me thoughts and emotions
    I'm, me
    See, me
    Please, me why cant you be, more than you can, be
    Go
    Go away
    I can't stay
    The day is the night
    The wrong is the right
    I must take flight
    Our Minds unite!

    3

    Friends
    Friends come and go
    Trust me, I'm the one who would know
    You do something they don't like
    They tell you to take a hike
    Put your mask on and cover up the truth
    No one needs to see the real you
    Except friends and family, maybe not even them
    Live your lie every day knowing you will be exposed
    The day you do something that resembles the real you
    They all will know the truth

    4

    Who says the blue sky is normal
    I want a black sky
    I want to be free from the majority
    They tell me what is right, what is wrong
    I sing my own song, a song that is
    Long, my song fills your mind, your thoughts
    Everyone says I am not normal
    Bug why says a blue sky is normal
    Fuck social disorders they just think different
    They are normal, not freaks, fuck you
    Institutions to change me, copy and paste motherfuckers
    I'm a damn wingbat, you flaunt your fonts but I'm unique
    I'm the one you seek, to set your mind free
    The company tries to buy me, fuck them
    I'll sell my soul to get my message through
    Don't let them edit your mind
    Control the world around you
    Don't let them impound your creativity
    You must think vividly

    5

    I never knew that life could be so easy
    I always thought it was so complicated
    But when you just slow down and relax
    Everything goes so smoothly

    Kick back with a girl you like
    Drink some beer with your friends
    Smoke some weed with your buddies
    Hang out with your pals

    Nothing should ever ruin your day
    But one way or another, you screw things up
    Don't get to mad, everything passes in time

    6

    I'm going to sleep, because I'm done with today
    Today can just fade away, into the abyss of my life
    And I ask myself, what life is it that I had
    Was my life good or bad
    Happy or sad
    Or was it just a life, life anyone elses
    People make mistakes
    Mistakes are forgiven and forgotten in time
    But time is the most important thing in life
    You only have so much time
    And this is mine
    I choose to forgive myself
    This time
    I just hope others will follow in my line
    This time
    This time

    7

    I'm going to die tonight, Inside and out
    Can you hear me shout, can anyone help me out
    I can't think anymore, everything's messing with my head
    The drugs and the booze, everything's making me loose
    My mind is not mine, It's what you make it
    So if you lead me on, With your sex song
    I might just do something wrong, Someone might get hurt
    I cant control my actions, Or the reactions
    Please help me see who I am
    I'm not who I want to be
    I'm who you made me
    I hate you
    And I'm your fucking puppet too
    You played me like a fool
    Like a tool
    Fuck you
    Now I have lost friends, Made ends
    To something that is good, Now burns with the wood
    Because that's where this all started and stopped
    At a fire, That burnt so hot
     
  3. I really liked Going Nowhere Slowly :)

    I don't really write a lot of poetry, but here's one I wrote a while back.

    Insomnio Anxiety

    It would be beneficial to end the
    Negative thought
    Patterns behind my eyes, the
    Pressure of two thumbs,
    Two extremities,
    If only we could find a
    Way too much to think about.
    Way too much to worry about.
    I'm tired and I can't sleep.
    Fuck.
     
  4. i dont know why i wrote this much less why i'm posting it.

    Season of Death

    I was wrong
    I have more lives than life is long
    Standing in the twilight, the voice I once heard
    Telling of the end, instead of demanding strength
    So absurd
    Now in the season of death, year's third
    as I happen upon that strength, it is despair that dies
    fading in the traveling colors of endings
    carried in the stream
     
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  5. Ok so I was staring at my background earlier this evening, its covered in red skulls and bones. So i began to squint and picked up some interesting visuals and text dependent on the shadows.

    LAKE
    012
    484
    144
    (Observation: A nasty face, very reptilian in nature, evil eyes)
    (Observation: Lot's of animals and skull people)
    (Observation: A dead RAm's head very demonic)

    I then drew a very crude drawing of what I think I saw.

    After flipping through some pictures I came upon the Sabbatic Goat, It caught my attention, something about what looked like a lake...

    ===

    Brutal Except More:

    1:44 on the Left
    In a lake
    a hole beneath lies a pillar, 2 4s (force x 2) surrounding two 8th

    In a face of venom lays the crying souls from above, dwells the demonic ram's head

    -The Sabbatic Goat
     
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  6. #6 AHuman, Mar 18, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 18, 2010
    Loved this, fucking props on some great writing!

    Here's one of mine (lyrics to a song - it doesn't work as nicely simply pasted, need my dry Australian drawl and dusty acoustic guitar to compliment it :D), a fantastically wonderful prize should anyone guess who it's about...


    FRED

    What a poor little boy,
    All bloated and writhing with torment,
    Reverently tracing his malice,
    You’re nothing but the vermin of yesterday spent.

    Shaking and drenched wet in sweat,
    Raving “It’s too late to repent”,
    Little boy, you ain’t no prophet of God,
    You’re nothing but the vermin of yesterday spent.

    Fred,
    The sooner you die, the wider I smile.

    You know you’ve got a right,
    To picket and present,
    Your closeted congregation’s warped dogma, little child,
    You’re nothing but a dirge on the air that you rent.

    You know God has a plan,
    He don’t need my consent,
    The devil does though, little fella in the chocolate dip,
    You’re nothing but a dirge on the air that you rent.

    Fred
    You harder you fall, the higher I soar.

    You just want your mother,
    Who you’ve grown to resent,
    Oedipus, Judas, hound and hypocrite,
    You’re nothing but the dregs of the lies you invent.

    You liked to preach Deuteronomy
    From a platform of holy cement,
    You hate freedom to love but love freedom to hate,
    You’re nothing but the dregs of the lies you invent.

    Fred,
    The day that you die, I will walk unweighted.

    Now, I recognise your freedom of speech,
    And it’s worth every cent,
    But I reject your hateful and backwards agenda,
    You’re nothing but a failure of your master’s intent.

    Now, I’m gonna tell you
    You will die without lament
    We’ll picket your funeral and spit on your grave
    You’re nothing but a failure of your master’s intent
    And I despise everything now that you represent.

    Fred,
    The last breath you draw will be the sweetest I breathe.
     
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  7. April 26 2009 my brother, pictured below (middle) passed away from a drug overdose. He had a rough life but has produced some beautiful, intelligent, empathetic children. This poem is a letter from him to his youngest daughter who is now in our sisters custody (pictured below, left). I wrote this poem from the heart because I couldn't find anything like it... please PM me or comment if you have ever been in a similar situation, or fear you may one day find yourself, a family member, or friend, in the same situation. Support is the key to continue living.



    I Did Have a Plan...
    [​IMG]

    I'm writing to my daughter,
    Who has just turned the age of two!
    Isabela Denise, your daddy misses you!
    And even though I may seem to you,
    As just a distant dream, there are some things
    I need to tell you; baby, we're still a team!

    There were ups & downs in my life
    But what is a life lived slow?
    Some things you cannot change,
    See, and for this I had to go.
    There were things I couldn't risk;
    Like your health and well-being.
    I had to get you to a safe haven,
    I promise – I wasn't just fleeing.

    Your surrounded by love & support,
    Something I thought I always needed.
    And when you may forget this,
    just reread at your convenience.
    See, those who are there for you now;
    Were always there for me,
    For that I am forever thankful,
    So I left them my little Angel!
    Don't worry, sweetheart,
    That you may forget just how much they care-
    Daddy was blinded by a deceitful world,
    One of which I pray you never go near.

    I know it will hurt sometimes,
    And you'll need your daddy there…
    But remember, sweetheart, at every show,
    So long as you have your reflection,
    I'm already there.

    I would like to say I'm sorry, I know you may not understand.
    Though for you, darling daughter, I did have a plan.
    A life of happiness and laughter and success aplenty,
    Self-sacrifice is just one act of my love for you,
    Just one of many.



    - To Isabela Denise Landers, with love.
    - Written by Matt Landers.

     
  8. Hopelessly Paranoid

    among the trails of afterthoughts
    my irrational fear of that which might eat me emerges

    from my rocking chair battle station
    I see sharks swimming in the streets,
    butter cream and saliva dripping from their jaws,
    hoping to comfort the part inside them
    that is nothing more than a child drinking from the toilet

    needless to say
    the masses eat the matted dingle berries of this beast
    pan seared, encrusted in dove feathers
    hoping to get a taste of butter cream
    while they forfeit their left brain
    and their right to pursue intangible dreams

    so that leaves my kind
    but a quivering hole amongst lonely prisoners,
    hopelessly paranoid
    while some people stereotype me as a free man


    TV Generated Resistance

    dead for no reason
    naked and stiff
    worms squirm within infected pus bubbles
    or something

    85 rebellious words
    in an anarchic poem
    various opinions about black and white

    big men
    with swords and pens
    writing about
    the man
    with the biggest sword

    writing about when they were children

    writing something about information
    and its effect on reality

    but as I sit here
    I am of the opinion that
    the elite and the poor should interbreed

    not by force
    but with imaginative bliss

    or something

    Evolved Monkey Boredom

    I like killing time

    with my index finger I
    motion come hither
    like a feather upon oxygen

    each second moans its way past
    as my impatience controls me,
    the intangible infuriates

    I have a switch blade in my back pocket
    borrowed from the fifties
    I use it to cut myself
    shedding blood on the month of May

    when winter rolls ‘round
    he keeps me saturated,
    hate-filled and gray
    I eat his children
    as if they were my own

    if only I could get my hands on that fucking groundhog
     
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  9. Just one to add.


    Now it gets a little deeper. Perhaps time is our father keeper.
    Device designed to hold our world?
    Inside the mind, a turtle shell.
    So question this and ponder deep.
    What doth death rend, and does life keep?
     
  10. You all have some great poems. I hate how people think poetry is gay. It's just music with out tunes. A way to express whats going on in your life, and help others because they can interpret it in different ways.

    Keep writing blades!
     
  11. #11 See Emily Play, Mar 18, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 18, 2010
    Word dude, every time I see a new post in this thread I'm like :yay:
    I agree, I've never been able to understand how or why people think poetry is gay. I know a lot of people feel that way because they were force-fed Shakespeare in like, the 8th grade, but I truly pity people who write-off poetry because of a shitty English teacher or a poem they didn't like.. Oh well, their loss:)

    EDIT: I've been reading some of Jim Morrison's poetry lately, and I'm really digging it. Here's a couple: :D

    Baths, bars, the indoor pool. Our injured leader prone on the sweating tile. Chlorine on his breath and in his long hair. Lithe, although crippled, body of a middle-weight contender. Near him the trusted journalist, confidant. He liked men near him with a large sense of life. But most of the press were vultures descending on the scene for curious America aplomb. Cameras inside the coffin interviewing worms.

    ---------

    There are no longer "dancers", the possessed. The cleavage of men into actor and spectators is the central fact of our time. We are obsessed with heroes who live for us and whom we punish. If all the radios and televisions were deprived of their sources of power, all books and paintings burned tomorrow, all shows and cinemas closed, all the arts of vicarious existence....

    We are content with the "given" in sensation's quest. We have been metamorphosised from a mad body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes staring in the dark
     
  12. clouds shroud the clarity of every sense's sensitivity,
    - hence a bitter me.
    i patiently await their relinquishment
    as i shroud myself in more clouds - clouds of smoke,
    which sweeten bitterness and lift me atop them.
    sounding quotes and syllables out - a therapeutic gift to me.
    soon the clarity will return...
    until then i mimic drifting seas.
     
  13. My second poem was inspired by Jim.

    I have a lot more, but those are my favorite. Maybe i'll write more soon, or pick a couple more from my notebook to post. A lot of stuff I have are written for songs, or can be used for songs.
     
  14. Once I was fannyin around with mates and said(whilst high and smokin in the woods btw). Shit guys, lets bail, its the ostrich police! basically at first it was a joke, but then the ostrich police now have taken the embodiment of all that conspires against bud/personal freedom, so i wrote a poem, its actually turned out to be a song with guitar, melody etc but heres the bare words (market st is where i used to buy bud btw):

    Hark! the ostrich police
    make haste in market street
    throw down your tools
    this time is for bein neat
    i see your chequered flags
    death rags and coins
    leave them they mean nothin
    your morals are only toys

    it's hard bein free
    they are the noose around my neck
    my soul ship is at sea
    and im flat out on the deck
    the ostrich police are vile
    people think they dont exist
    but theyre no imagined guile
    they come straight from satans fist

    sometimes they hunt like wolves
    comin in packs of ten
    they feast till their stomachs are full
    then they start over again
    no room for sleepin suns
    or the beauty of a womans face
    cos the ostrich police are beating nuns
    and leaving a sour taste

    you're charming ive already said it
    when you touch me i want to take
    fishmonger give me some credit
    fuck me i bet i wont break
    the ostrich police might catch us
    but i'll give you a good old time
    we'll weave trees like the thatchers
    until you cant see the fold lines

    most of the stuff i write is songs though, cant get much publicity, but check out my myspsace, i have loads of stuff thats been written and isnt up there, recording restraints etc are annoyin as fuck, but i reckon given some time in the studio my music could find a gd direction, cos i feel like i always express myself through my music and lyrics, rather than just having really normal lyrics and a shitty repetitive type base for the song. sorry if that sounded very arrogant btw, but im just sayin i think if i get my stuff out there, folk might like it

    the link is:
    Josh Fuchs op MySpace Music

    as i say, would be ace if anyone takes the time to listen and/or comment, but i know how it is, everyones tryin to get their stuff heard so theres loads of homemade music on myspace!
     
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  15. Some poems of mine, these were a couple months back when I was pretty good at writing, but forgot how to since I took a break for school, etc.

    Anyway here's some now!

    Trauma

    As I walk down nostalgic alley
    I think you've come to hurt me
    Only to realize I'm alone

    For I haven't forgotten the blood-stains
    That is my tainted soul
    How will I move on from
    Deaths cold hand abducting our
    Lives, our innocence
    How do you forgive those soulless devils
    Who soaked us in anguish?
    Never
    Will they be forgiven
    Never can I see the day without freedom
    From my prison of distress
    For my innocence was shot
    Just as my prudence has been burned
    With the seal of hysteria

    The High Life

    As I retreat to this portable home
    I extend my hand unto this glass vehicle
    Loaded already with extra fuel
    Insert the key
    Away I go

    Hours later a crash ensues
    Dawn erupts I'm already past due
    Dazed and confused I fall to the ground
    I jump another way with this pill anew
    Energy's made as
    I climbed in their shouts
    Hugged by the music
    I live without doubt

    Burden from Birth

    Listen to her shouts
    Listen as he doubts
    Hear him as he mounts
    Smell them as he counts

    Smell the stank in the air
    Taste it all without a care
    Savor and enjoy, that's a dare

    Let her burden await
    From her unfortunate mate
    Watch her soul torn
    Feel his offspring born




    My love

    As I cover my face
    My lungs fill with tears
    Constricting my vocal folds
    As my chest screams in pain
    Questioning myself why I
    Choose to suffer in agonizing pain
    As I keep hidden in the dark
    To stay strong
    For love is the end of all great men
    That was once true
    As I was once great
    But as I burned away inside
    I'm no longer great as I was
    Now I'm just a mere shadow of my former self
    For what I said was true
    Love is the end of all great men
    Once a great man with love
    Never had bespeak what he truly felt
    Is now a shattered soul leaving
    Me to rot in this godforsaken sun


    I'd like some feedback on this cause I know I can improve, so please say good/bad, I'd appreciate it, thanks.
     
  16. Wrote this 5 seconds ago.

    Light up a cigarette and step outside
    The sun is shining bright, as you look up at the sky
    Today's already a good day, maybe later you'll get high
    Go to work every day, just to get by
    To be happy, all you have to do is try
    Don't worry about death
    Don't worry about goodbyes
    Live life in the now
    Be happy with the sky
     
  17. The Seed

    Do you see that tree?
    I do not.
    Tell me what you see.
    Alas:

    I see a seed
    Turning to root
    Turning to sprout
    And despite all odds
    All forces of nature
    Unnatural though some may be
    Thickening and toughening
    And reaching for the stars
    Or one star in particular.

    Does this Being weep?
    Does this Being dream?
    Many of its brethren are no more.
    Many have fallen
    Both literally and figuratively
    And how does this Being reply?
    It accepts.

    This Thing accepts.
    It accepts all who accept it in return.
    It will provide you shade,
    Though you will not return the favor.
    It will watch over you
    Protect you from wind and other harshness
    A rock in a raging storm
    An anchor in a tumultous sea
    A constant in the midst of chaos
    And all it asks is acceptance.

    "Accept me for who I am!"
    Cries the Being.
    Silently.
    "Do not change me."
    "Do not try and cut me down to size,"
    "Do not take me from my home,"
    "Allow me to sire and be,"
    "For I," Cries the Thing,
    "See a seed."
     
  18. A drug which enlightens and elevates, our very being and articulate,
    Bringing on a new state of mind, Incandescently illuminate,
    The world around us and how we view our fate,
    A path inwhich trancends a current state, of asphyxiation to the mind, lungs and blood circulate.
     
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  19. Nice.:smoke:


    When the Time is Right

    She walks slowly
    A little too slowly for me
    barefooted
    she impresses the earth
    with only her toes
    keeping her heels for followers to see

    she walks so slowly
    as if the dirt between her toes
    were pieces of clouds with nowhere to go
    a most patient angel

    and she arrives as always
    a moment too late
    just in time
    to watch me sleep off
    my drunken sinfulness

    and I awake to watch her
    walk slowly away from me

    Free Days


    My nose becomes
    a fingernail magnet

    I scratch it red
    until scabbed and bloodied

    I break off a piece of dead skin
    caked with blue mucus
    and throw it away

    forgetting to say good bye

    these hours (perhaps days)
    I lay vulnerable
    on the floor
    making love to my nose
    are wasted away

    and I come down once again
    from this hillbilly euphoria

    forgetting to say good bye


    Inspiration from a Horny Beast

    The painter looks away from his canvas
    in a quest for inspiration
    he focuses on his best friend
    fucking his leg

    he thinks it queer
    but beautiful as well
    as the panting beast moans
    at the hole in his corduroys

    then his eyes return to the canvas
    and he paints the most life-like asshole
    I have ever seen
    one that could fool the dirtiest of mutts

    with tears in his eyes
    and semen on his left knee
    the painter thanks his best friend
     
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  20. Work in progress... working with a title we'll call... Mini Angel. Yeah, that works for now. I posted it in a thread but I'm just sticking it in here - deleted mine. S'all good.

    --------------------------------------------------------------

    I know you are there.
    My eyes cannot see directly
    But my mind's manifesto paints
    An idea; a perception of who you
    Might be.

    My fingers shift from first to last
    With each gentle, tacit stroke reassuring
    Me, that you, are watching through the window.
    You too, are blind in the way I wake to
    Every morning.

    The brilliance of the sun making its stop
    In the sky, tearing through the wedge in the curtains
    Teasing my eyes open.
    Lazily, I roll over onto the floor, for my bed is so small...
    I suppose I will get up now.

    She visits me when I lay me down
    Dead - for another day, I.
    “Neigh”, I say. “What are you?”
    I cannot be sure of what's said, for I was told
    You exist but in my head, and only there...

    Bah. I know you are there.

    Trapped in this one-horse town, a stallion stirs the dirt
    'Round his hooves; dusty sneakers, mechanized.
    Nervously, he watches as the sun sets in preparation...
    Will she appear again tonight, this night-mare nightingale?

    This lone unicorn stampedes past,
    Leaving me in her wake - but not before
    Stunning me with her lustrous halo, as it orbits
    About her horn, straying not from its rigid spire.

    'Round and around it goes: my eyes strain to follow
    Until no longer the blinding light allows.
    I pick a cell – my restless head spins dizzily
    'Till I drop down; fleeting glimpses of each dark memory
    Detailing the stable. Again, dead for another day.

    A smile shrouded by shadows
    Laughter, rebounding off of the silence
    I reach out to rub the smudge on your face
    Hoping that you aren't ticklish.

    We are linked; hanging on, by a thread, taut and tight
    Skilfully, you weave together the web of empty space
    I find through common place, familiar face.
    I suppose I will get out now.

    Ach, I bleed! – my tongue aches, but these are
    Your words, oozing through my seamless smile.
    I cannot speak now – my spool has run dry.
    You have an inkling of what I am thinking, no?

    The signal is fading... this silicon lady has
    Kept me up again, all night.
     

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