Reincarnation of the poetry thread

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Self-loathing
(unrevised)

Why would you think
You could be better?
Why would you act
Like you're so great?
Don't you know
Every word you stutter
Every phrase
grinds and grates?

Superiority?
Not you, sweet.
Take your complexes
And leave.
A little cut
The nose, to spite.
Damnably naive.

[Ishan]

There is a delight I feel knowing we are all inspiring each other to write. Whether we conjure a poem in a few minutes or trudge painstakingly through our vocabulary for that ideal word, it is wonderful to find expression! I like this thread ...

[cradle]

I am one.
I am one with darkness.
It envelops my soul.

This circus of hate,
Tears at my soul.


My mother,
Once beautiful.
Now covered in black hatred,
From me.
Because she fixed me,
Roast beef for dinner,
And I,
Am above such things.

My father,
once handsome,
Is now covered in,
black hatred from my verry soul.
Why,
why,
oh why,
would he not buy me the pony,
that I wanted for my birthday.

This pulchrintudinousness of my pain,
I love it.,
Yet I hate the ones that brought it upon me...
Mother,
father,
Oh why would you not buy me,
the slipknot shirt I so dearly adored?
I hate you.

All I have is my phallus,
and my slipknot CD's.
And that's certainly all I'll ever need.

[raggedyanne]

I love this thread. Everyone is so talented!

My once overlarge ego
has now be shrunk back to size
I now submit trash
___________________________

except for a minute few corruption controls this school
the eye of justice calmly overlooks a select group
where before my enemies were well contained
here they openly and cruelly rule

unconventionality is openly fought
it is a war, I am its general
they try to mop up all the ink
but I am a persistent blot

And here is my emo poem:

screaming crying lying
waiting for the light
for such a sombre dressing cround
we yearn for gates so bright

pissy looks and searing glares
warning you to stray nowhere
tumoultuous homelife unawares
so much hidden so much there

potential lost to sad emotion
built up inside
death is no magic potion
to combat looks and words so snide

[conundrum666]

I wrote a poem a long time ago, though I'm not sure poetry is my thing really.. heregoes:

A memory…once upon
A nickel calls
once upon a memory
sculpted
on the face of a water pool
fades away
in the ripples of time
No longer can it be seen
diffused
into the tides
of unconcern...

[maggot]

I wrote this for school. The Magger wants critique.

I use german for the title because german owns. And everyone suspects me of being a nazi. LOLXORZ

‘Futurkind’


I’m falling in,
I’m failing fast,
Through rings of sin,
Spite of my Past.
And when I try to rise above
I’m given but a downward shove,
I’m crushed beneath the foot of work
I brought on with my stress-based shirk.

Still, on homework, I’m not sold,
and this routine is getting old
“I need less work”
“No, can’t you see?
You’ll be a clerk
If you just flee!”
And to this, I say, without agree:
”My future’s less important than me!”

[Cele]

It was written in German but i translated it XD
I hope it has not lost it's rythm and makes sense after all.

...:::The Tree:::...(05.02.06)

Very old Oak lost all it´s green so long ago.
If life within noone can tell no more.
And yet he is the center of the scenery below
And everyone loves him for sure.

What did the fragile somethin in all the time witness?
Did Wodan hang from him to gain wisdom?
Quietly he saw the ceasars bloody murderers
And pagans fight the newly christian rome.

He never feared the cruel pestilence.
The inquistion's fires did burn him not.
Shadows he cast on the napoleon's presence.
Newton the apple from him got.

He saw Hitlers armies storm like a gust.
Their own and all europa's doom.
He saw every nation turn into dust.
And afterwards he made the ashes bloom.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Originally Posted by maggot

I wrote this for school. The Magger wants critique.

I use german for the title because german owns. And everyone suspects me of being a nazi. LOLXORZ

‘Futurkind’


I’m falling in,
I’m failing fast,
Through rings of sin,
Spite of my Past.
And when I try to rise above
I’m given but a downward shove,
I’m crushed beneath the foot of work
I brought on with my stress-based shirk.

Still, on homework, I’m not sold,
and this routine is getting old
“I need less work”
“No, can’t you see?
You’ll be a clerk
If you just flee!”
And to this, I say, without agree:
”My future’s less important than me!”

I'll critique you if you'll critique me...

I have a poem ^up there^ somewhere.

[maggot]

Your poem gets better every time I read it.

At first, it's a little hard to figure out the flow, though.

also, the first 4 lines sound a little strange to me, I think it's because the syllable count is 4,5,4,4.

Hope that helped ya.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Thanks, hun!

And because I love ya, I'll go through this quick for you.

I’m falling in,
I’m failing fast,

I like the use of "failing"... I almost didn't notice it, because it looks so much like "falling". Very subtle differences like this are good literary devices.

Through rings of sin,
Spite of my Past.

The "rings of sin" part could probably be more effective if you could imply levels of hell in there somewhere... And I'm not sure how I feel about "Spite of my Past". Do you mean in spite of your past? Why is Past capitalized?

And when I try to rise above
I’m given but a downward shove,

Interesting that you change the rhyme scheme here. Are you trying to bring the reader's attention to this part for a reason? It's not really the climax of the poem, or the most important point.

I’m crushed beneath the foot of work
I brought on with my stress-based shirk.

"Foot" could be replaced with a more descriptive synonym.

Still, on homework, I’m not sold,
and this routine is getting old

A very effective way to get to the base of the poem.

“I need less work”
“No, can’t you see?
You’ll be a clerk
If you just flee!”

Um... I'm not even sure what to say. This doesn't make very much sense. I mean, "I need less work" makes sense, but the rest of it doesn't. I think you're trying to say that if you don't do your homework, you'll end up being someone's secretary, but it's worded poorly.

And to this, I say, without agree:
”My future’s less important than me!”

You make an interesting point, but with the way it's worded it's not clear. "Without agree" is a weird way of saying it, for one, and it implies that you don't agree with what you're saying.

[maggot]

:O :O :O

Thank you's!

Now I have some corrections to make >: )


Some of them. :P

Edit:
I capitalised past because I feel like someone specific kees trying to spite me, but it's my own fault. If that makes any sense to anyone but me.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Absolutely. It's definitely a subjective opinion. Just because something sticks out weirdly to me doesn't mean that it does so to everyone, or to your intended audience. I love that you get that.

[maggot]

Can you help me thinhk of a way to remake the "To this I say without agree" line?

I can't think of a way to make it have the right amount of syllables.


It was supposed to mean that I made this reply, that they did not agree with.


And the previous thing is a common conversation I have with my teachers.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Something about, "I appeal but they lack sympathy"?

[maggot]

I had
"To this I say (they don’t agree):"


Which do you like more? I'm open to either.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

I like both. "Appeal" and "sympathy" make the writer seem more like a prisoner, or an innocent man being charged of a crime. However, the use of parentheses make the reader feel like they're being let in on a secret, like the writer is speaking specifically to them and not to the world at large. It personalizes the rant and sends it home.

[asta_tintora]

My goodness, that was painful and I'm afraid I have another floater for you kind folks. The late night hours seem to fan the flames of my mediocrity.

Internet

The virtual god makes dogs of the thralls.
They drink the sick that dribbles from its gash,
a stark portal of dead digital mash.
The deity leaves them in hard withdrawals.

Misinformation manipulates them.
It spreads through their minds with a single prick.
A solitary word starts the sad trick.
It inflames logic; renders it useless.

With logic disabled, god tells its fable.
Facts provide the basis for sound debate,
but are carnal sins to that reprobate.
God’s typed voices are not veritable.

Although “god” provides a great font knowledge, be cautious.
Its sweetened lies make both fact and logic unconscious.

Yes, I am aware it is not metered. Oh, that is entirely another beast that must be conquered, but one I've wanted to take on.

[MollyMac]

... and Saddak forgot why he sought it,
I forgot what it was I wanted to forget.

There is something specific
about driving on a cloudy cold night,
longing for stars in a city
that wouldn't show them
even if it was clear
and I asked nicely.

It's eighteen degrees out,
and I had the windows cracked
heat from sweaty legs
steaming the cab of my truck,
itching to move
exhausted again

want desperately to see someone,
want desperately to be alone
the time inbetween
the definition of flux

in that unmonumental stretch of time

it began with the first pianic trembles of Fur Elise
ended with the thought
I should check my brake fluid,
a squeak that jolted me back into the present
at Page and Beltway.

It's cold here,
cold and cloudy
and it would have been quiet
if I did not play Fur Elise again
on the rest of the half mile home,
sitting still in my truck until it ended
and Billy Joel came on afterwards
He's not Beethoven,
but he's what we got.

I find myself thinking of someone's freckles,
wanting to count them all,
all the way down,
see where they begin,
see where they end,
see the skin in between

Thinking of how people will say anything,
when they think you can't hear them.

My husband talks to me
when he thinks I am asleep
My mother did the same thing
Suwannee Jo, Suwanee Jo

But people will talk,
trying to get attention,
but I never remove my headphones
and they think I cannot hear

Just because I'm plugged in
does not mean that I am turned on
and I pull down the drive
too soon to arrive

A lady I work out near is rather chatty,
but more than her mouthing
I watch her eyes to see
watch where she is looking,

I watch her chest inhale,
inhale and
inhale.

Seeing where she is looking,
He mouth moves,
almost saying,
only speaking
everything in all the world
but one little thing,

I know that she is
just one moment of silence
just one exhalation away
from being an adulterer

I am wrong to anticipate this

But pulling in,
break in,
clutch out,
stalling

Tonight, every night as of late,
everywhere I look is lightning,
streaky luminesence
Flashes of crisp linear brilliance
not just in the corners of my eyes
but over the images that
no longer burn themselves into my mind,
no longer strike me,
for the light is too bright.

I know that there is something wrong tonight
the process of elimination
looking out, looking inside
something wrong, fight or flight

[Cyberbat]

Staring at the wall, I think to dream a vision of art
But not too sure just where to start
Too many lines and not a fine enough brush
I guess I’m just too much in a rush
Constantly told I’m just a little too impatient
But I think I always moved a little too salient
For anyone to quite follow where ever it was I was going
And maybe I just keep on running
Where ever that is I’m not too sure
And everyone seems to think that’s a little immature
But I think I’m the only one comfortable in my own skin
And that could be because I’m not afraid to sin
So maybe I should just throw the paint bowl
And loose all control
Because everything was always better when finger painting

[Mir]

Cyberbat: haha, that was nice and I love you Avatar.

[disorder]

I wrote this aaaaaaaaaagggeeessss ago, and just found it the other day.

You don’t know how much something means to you,
‘Till it’s gone.
But then it’s too late,
To say what you’ve never said,
To do what you’ve never done,
To go where you’ve never gone.

Could I have treated you better?
Paid more attention?
Taken more time to ask how you were?
Did you see the sunrise at dawn?
Or the sunset at dusk?
Or had you already passed on to a land of sunny slopes and quiet streams?

Now you are with old friends once more,
Any you have forever to talk about everything.
But I shall have to wait,
Before I see you again.
Alas, I’ll never stop regretting,
Never saying one little letter,
And two little words,
But now it’s too late,
To say the big thing,
‘I love you’.

[Mir]

Nice idea, but I'd rewrite it if I were you, just to have some semblance of a rhythm to it.

P.s Winnie the Pooh r0x0r. Please excuse my leet speak.

[HumanePain]

Disorder: your feelings of regret and missed opportunity come through very clearly.

Cyberbat: Interesting perspective of an artist!

MollyMac: A spellbinding journey, and I liked the part about the freckles!

I am so glad people are keeping this thread alive. Now I need to get up off my posterior and post some too!

[Ishan]

Alright, I've been doing a great deal of introspection since my last posting. There has been so much trauma and delight to pepper my life that I wonder whether I am really the cook or merely a lackey in the kitchen.

> I have not read anything here ... I'm just posting feelings at the moment ... let's see ...

I know that I possess a great deal of vitriol ... violent thoughts to mask the horrifying emotions at work underneath the mask of civility. There is little to explain the abstractions that emerge from any individual, though they be intellectual manifestations of all the emotions any one person may feel.

We do not feel just one emotion at a time; we only comprehend the single emotion because that is all we can articulate. Many minds race to catch up with the feelings clouding the judgement of any individual.

So we become frightened for lack of security or ego satisfaction or because of lonelineness, and our aspirations - those wonderful dreams that can exist for no motive other than espousing beauty - are smashed upon the cold reality that so frequently defines our world. Those beautiful dreams turn to horrible nightmares. The horrible nightmares are unrealized dreams and the fear the dreams were never real at the outset.

They were real. But consider this: None of us existed before we arrived ... none of us will exist after we leave.

OUCH!

[raggedyanne]

do you see the blaze down on suicide avenue
we lost another one to pain
the preacher’s screaming about hell to me an’ you
but their still dropping like flies
your fucking god won’t help you now

to knives and needles,
to ropes and flame,
gunshots and gutting blades,
they’re taking their lives

will the world be at loss without them
is that what they wanna find
is their life like the dirt in my gown’s hem,
they want to be always on ours minds
there is no hope in the mind of a suicidle beast