A Thread of Poetry ( Only Post Poetry HERE!! )

[Tanzanari]

I had an English teacher once tell me that an untitle poem is like an unnamed child. Don't care. This doesn't have a name.

You were warm and here
but far away.
Too close for me to touch.
Because I cannot want
what I do not have.
And you belong to that
watercolor world, outside,
elsewhere,
not my own.
Always here in the same mess
with dirty shoes and hopeful eyes
and empty, empty hands.
You remind me of the pain,
the pain that feels so good,
to hold so close, the wicked want,
of the lover, unpossessed.

[joyslayer]

Hmmm, very true, the poem is.

[TeapotScar]

So I've really been doing some thinking and
I thought that, maybe, even though you're not always around
Sometime we could press ourselves into the ground
And make a few beautiful angels in the dirt.
I'd...

I'm not un-clean and I don't mean to be crude,
But I think we could serve to benefit from ripping grass out of the yard-
I think we both know it's really not that hard-
To get to know each other, that is.
do...

With all this pressing and ripping,
We're bound to get more than a little bit smudged,
But we won't have to worry about being judged
If we're completely alone when we do this.
anything...

Interesting adventures happen to people in pairs
But I don't think that ours would be like any of theirs
Most of them seem to play in the lake,
But I honestly think that drowning's a mistake.
for...

I could lay down a blanket, so you wouldn't get dusty
I could lay down and die, lay down to decay
You could watch me decay in a most interesting way;
Flesh, muscles, brains, bones, and soul.
you.

[Scythan]

TeapotScar, I very much enjoyed that one. Thank you, it is well done.

[rockandrose]

Originally Posted by TeapotScar

I could lay down a blanket, so you wouldn't get dusty
I could lay down and die, lay down to decay
You could watch me decay in a most interesting way;
Flesh, muscles, brains, bones, and soul.
you.

I like this part of the poem the most.

[joyslayer]

Yes, i agree. Very well written indeed.

[sensuous0mar]

just a little something....let me know what you think.



Darkness


the sun rises everyday. predictable
dependable. Someday the sun won't rise &
you'll be living in darkness.

darkness
all around
i hear the familliar sound of
darkness
falling on my world, dropping in descent
darkness is all that you have meant.

when your sun won't rise & you're surrounded
by a nothing deeper than black,thicker than
blood. Then you will feel my heartache,
hopelessness,anxiety,confusion
in the darkness

Darkness
all around
i hear the familliar sound of
darkness
falling on my world, dropping in descent
darkness is all that you have meant

[sensuous0mar]

thanks love

[sensuous0mar]

I Don't Sleep

The dark decends, quietly and heavily
choking me
can't breathe


Hair becomes a web, consuming.
Home to the spider in my mind
eight bone thin legs
eight screaming eyes


Too afraid to sleep, I lay awake
for minutes, hours - eventually days
Never closing both eyes at once.


Shaken, no- shaking
a wreck
A fear of night so sharp, like knives
I'm bleeding.


Crying now.* It's also blood.
I weep like the Virgin
Christ dies a little more every time.
My savior, weep with me.


I think I'm not the only one who doesn't sleep.
Surely He had waking nights.


I pray for you.*
You in your life of sin...
and me in mine


I pray to a dead prophet.
I bow my head to a carpenter.
I pray.
I pray, but I don't sleep.

[sensuous0mar]

a bit about my frightening teen past...i'm all growed up now, tee hee. And hopefully sane.







Slowly I pick up the blade


and place it where my hand is laid


running down my wrist I made


a cross, though I was still afraid.


This is where my life has stayed -


in darkness, with my blood I played.


Some stains and scars - the price I paid


In my bed, with a blade


*


Now I've given quite a fright


when my wrists came into sight.


No one knew my teenaged plight,


no one knew how much I'd fight


when I would turn out the light


and crawl into my bed at night.


*


Eventually the others would find


the secret world inside my mind


where I choked back the saner kind


of thoughts that wanted to rewind


the loss of blood that made me blind


to all things good as I would grind


the blade deeper into my flesh,


quietly in my bed.

[TwistedKitsune]

Smooth like jazz
Tell me it’s all in my head
Not sure I’ll believe the one who pulled the world from beneath me
Blood on the ground, fallen like rain
Sickly sweet smile
As you tell me that it’s all the same
Trying hard to play the game, to fit a mold, to be everything I’m not
Always thought there was something wrong with this
All in my head? All in yours.
Too smooth, too silky, too everything.
The world slides off your back
And it’s all in my head…

[TeapotScar]

Thank you guys!

---
Omar- I love the part about hair being a web. That's very well conceived. Good work, overall! I'll be sure to pay attention when you post more ^^

Twisted- I like "Tell me it's all in my head", but when you end with "it's all in my head"... I don't know. It sort of devalues how cool "Tell me it's all in my head" was. But very interesting, otherwise, kind of literal, though.

[TwistedKitsune]

Originally Posted by TeapotScar

Twisted- I like "Tell me it's all in my head", but when you end with "it's all in my head"... I don't know. It sort of devalues how cool "Tell me it's all in my head" was. But very interesting, otherwise, kind of literal, though.

it is a bit of an unsophisticated rant in a way, but to explain (if that's possible without sounding strange, lol) The last line is meant to come off as a little sarcastic...I could, technically have written it as another "Tell me it's all in my head" but I wasn't in a mood to repeat myself at the time...if this is making any sense...it was meant to be incredibly literal for the record, I can't tell you how many people try to put meaning into it that's not there. Was good to get an honest response though, thank you!

[sensuous0mar]

yeah...this is the first time I've had objective criticism for my poetry.

[sensuous0mar]

it is a bit nerve wracking at firrst

[TwistedKitsune]

Ok, so, for the third time (hopefully it's a charm, darn internet):

Originally Posted by Xnguela

Tea told you what someone who doesn't know you personally would think of your poem, particularly that line.

For the record I doubt anyone who knew me personally would have any better insight in regard to this poem either. And I really -do- value what Tea said, it's very important to me to know what other people think of my work.

I'd also like to take a moment to clarify the fact that my "unsophisticated rant" comment was directed at my poem and not at what Tea said. I realize now, upon rereading it, that it could have been misconstrued.

Now, to post something I veiw as less rant-y and, in my opinion, one of my better works. However, with what people here have to say about it remaining to be seen, I may yet end up changing my opinion.

I was in a ghost-y mood and borrowed a bit from Shakespeare with the first two lines. I hope he doesn't mind too much. Also, the poem's title is "Otherside" for those of you who care.


“By the pricking of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes”
And through the lonely door shall enter
With eyes of ice that speak of Winter
Followed close by tales of sorrow
Yet in her lies the hopes of ‘morrow
Round her settled shroud of death
‘Til she too passes final breath
Sheltered in those arms of oak
So many words she never spoke
Words that at her soul do pull
Mind, no body, yet still so full
Wicked, wicked, and still she comes
To fill Their ears with pounding drums
Her only thought revenge to seek
For words that she would never speak
Plucked too soon, or so she thought
Weakened, weary, and still she fought
Think ye to walk in groves of mist
And there lies like to lover’s tryst
Embraced amongst those arms of oak
Feel wicked words she never spoke

[unseelie_sidhee]

"No man who values originality will ever be original. But try to tell the truth as you see it, try to do any bit of work as well as it can be done for the work's sake, and what men call originality will come unsought."
- C.S. Lewis

[TeapotScar]

Twisted, thank you for clarifying, I'm glad you didn't take offense to my comment or anything.

On another note- how completely odd that you would borrow the first two lines form something, because I did that two, just barely a week ago with a poem I called "The Birthday Raven!" (Before I post mine- let me just say that I find the rhythm of yours positively hypnotizing- very nice!) Now ME (hehe) Voila:


"Once upon a midnight dreary
While I sat there weak and weary..."
I ask the lot of you not to fear me,
Because I used to be just a child.

All those years brought all this power
Now I've changed from bud to flower,
When I'd really just like to cower
Like I was able to cower before.

I miss my high school, I miss the drama.
I miss being a toddler in footed pajamas
Waiting to be tucked in by my dear mama
Like I've waited many times before.

But now I see that time is fleeting
Now I cherish every meeting.
For "now" and "here" are all that last,
And "there" and "then" are in the past.

Childhood's just a ghost in my memory,
Only this and nothing more.
Innocence is a ghost in my memory,
Only this and nothing more.

---


Dis just absolutely HATES it ( ) but maybe you guys'll find it okay?

[TwistedKitsune]

oooo, nice tie in to the borrowed lines with the way you ended it, it's got some yummy rhythm too! I think that "But now I see that time is fleeting/Now I cherish every meeting./For "now" and "here" are all that last,/And "there" and "then" are in the past." has to be my favorite part of it, very nice...I dunno how to put it, but saying it out loud kinda leaves a nice taste in my mouth *grin*

[TwistedKitsune]

And, on a second note:

Originally Posted by TeapotScar

Twisted, thank you for clarifying, I'm glad you didn't take offense to my comment or anything.

Only a silly person wouldn't take constructive critisism for what it is, an opportunity to improve!

Originally Posted by TeapotScar

On another note- how completely odd that you would borrow the first two lines form something, because I did that two, just barely a week ago with a poem

that is rather odd... mine happened no where in the vicinity of a week ago however, mine is nearly a year old, lol I called

Originally Posted by TeapotScar

Before I post mine- let me just say that I find the rhythm of yours positively hypnotizing- very nice!

Thank you!

[out_side_in_side-out]

this poem is based on a dream I had the other day.



Enjoy.



The oak door slams shut
And from out the walls
Crimson faces call out to my eyes
Two holes converge on the wall
When as one, blood spills out
Like a vomiting house that is sick of dwellers
Myself torn in half
With my torso hanging on the door
And my legs standing in front of the mirror
Fingers squirming on the floor
My eyes have been ripped out to see the truth
As they watch the madness from a jar
My arms begin to shake furiously
Blood oozes from out my half opened mouth
Large chains are heard through the door
Heavy steps are being taken
Back and forth they go
shhhhhh…
I think he left
Cristian wake up…
My room is dark and damp
Hyperventilating I stare at my clock
3:27 a.m.
It was just a dream
Go back to sleep.

[TwistedKitsune]

out side- This is rather incoherent in places and quite creepy...normally I'd balk a little at it's incoherent qualities, but in this case it adds to the creepy dream effect.

[TeapotScar]

Creepy definitely comes into mind. I didn't like how the rhythm of it was so broken up, and how you *stated* that the house was trying to purge itself of its inhabitants, instead of just showing the reader that that was what was happening. I don't know. My english teacher in 7th grade, when we had our poetry unit she'd always say "*Show*, don't *tell*."

[TwistedKitsune]

Ok, I'm in a poem posting mood, so I'm postifying. I really tried to emphasize a flip around the centerpoint of this one, both visually and rhythm/rhyme wise. Anywho, here it is: Titled, "One, Two, Three"


One black, one white, and one in between
So many shades of grey that are never really seen
Two steps off the beaten path, two steps into the sand
Scenes caught in the web of Fate, guided by Her cruel hand
Three times ‘round the circle of stones, and three back the way we came
Know that as you take a breath, this moment won’t ever be the same…
Three times ‘round the circle of stones, and three back the way we came
A simple task, to hide your face, and keep it all from showing
Two steps into the bright light, two steps into the knowing
A solitary wish sent into the velvet night
One candle, one wick, one flame burning bright

[Metatron]

The Book of Secrets –

How lost in life,
drowning in existence are we?

It is really not the crossroads which pose such matricide upon our miserable thoughts –
Only magnetism to an onus justly lost to many a stolen.

What lies in darkness isn’t really there, for absence of luminosity to the soul of a bound child doesn’t exist in a world free from suffering.

Texts hold out at last, making inconceivable thought forms possible to acquire –

But secrets surely slay those who aren’t intended to bear such pleasure in knowing the weave of another’s knot.

Exposed in this tome of wisdom veiled over, can become only a violet choir of beings relinquished from arduous ecstasy.

For in the end, memory is all we have left to offer –
Remember what we forgot, and forget what’s left to discover.

You must DIE to be free of
PAIN
or LIVE and fight your
SORROW.

The formatting got a bit screwed up because it doesn't allow you to have multiple spaces...but this is my most recent piece.