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

[A Simple Poet]

Nicely written tercet, Xng. I liked the imagery. Maybe a different synonym for dark in dark heart. ( I DARE to be critical ... a "newbie" no less. It would be cool as a villanelle too if you wanted to screw with the form, but I liked "bloody stumps squeezed", "raccoon eyes", the repitition, and the slant rhyme sprinkled throughout. (PS: Sorry to hear about your hard drive). And I like the theme because I used to melt my kid sisters Barbies back when I was a skroat, and the poem somehow reminded me of that.

Twisted: I liked that one too, but I still think your first Alphabet poem was stronger and more powerful. Maybe I missed the alliteration, but than again I tend to use too much myself. I liked "Promethian Plight", "Raven to your Poe" and the imagery of chasing warm blood.

Tragic: I don't know you. Until I do, I will refrain from comments.

I am so glad to see all the poetry expressed here so freely. I am in a bit of a slump right now, but I think that is because I am at the end of the semester burn out.

[succubus,queenofvampires]

I really like your poem, Xng!!It's describing a lot of girls nowadays.

Too bad, Paris Hilton and her friends can't read it. They might learn a thing or two from our Xng!

[Draconysius]

Here are my first few poems here on gnet. I hope you enjoy them. The first is a comical ode to poseurs; the second a song I wrote for my band --Dementia.

"Ode to a Poseur"
Ode to a poseur
thou art very cute
your parents still love you
and yet you hate life

the children at school
they call you many things
that's why you must be
as different as can be

so go down to the mall
the one down town
head on to Hot Topic
and make sure you frown

goths never smile
goths never laugh
all you need now to be
goth is get some chain pants

gather those cheaply made overpriced spikes
get yourself slipknot shirts no matter what you like
and cock yourself an attitude
everyone that comes by

stare at them angrily
try to make them cry
Oh, dear poseur
thou art so cute
But did you know your problems
when compared to the world's
are simply put as minute

"Mond"

Your skeletal hands
stab at my heart
your piercing eyes
into the darkness
in the back of your head
old evil eye just won't stay dead
when you play your haunting tunes
don't try to run away from the moon
that's something always there
don't look into my eyes
like I even ever cared
no one can tell you who you are
but when who you are is dead
there's nothing you can do

chorus
I watch the moon rise every morning
as the world falls apart inside of my head
trying to ignore
the looming presensce but
I don't think anyone is watching.

the fields out there
across the grain
I look down on them at night
Those nameless ones that try to tell me
that I'm wrong or right

At three AM I cannot sleep
milady walks the hallway
I still hear her shrieks of pain
They'll never more be lifted
from my home again.

Am I dead... no
stop acting like I am
Deception is the greatest weapon
and there's some at hand

(chorus)

They cannot comprehend what they see
They turn their heads away in shame
Perched upon the wishing well
the spiders stare into darkness
Awaiting their last lament for today

[corporalaccident]

i don't care

sweet dreams.

dreams of tomorrow, dreams of the day

we'll all

be

gone

dry your sodden smile

we'll be there holding hands

dream on

dream on

oh,

the life of an existentialist.

let me in
open the door of your mind, the

gates.

and leave me a lone, just leave us alone

apacolypse
apocalypse
apacalypse
apocolypse

they dreamed of the day they could sing music with their minds

i'll sing. i'll sing for you.

X, deep and potent shit—me likes a lot. I will draw, however, a slight issue with the last three stanzas; the last word in each third line, respectfully, and the possible unintentional rhyming metric—though eyes disguise inside may, indeed, be a hidden altruistic, humanistic egg, and if it is then perhaps disguise it deeper, or manifest it more, whatever your preference, but for me those last rhymes stilled the flow a bit.

Aside from that? Brilliant and bold.

Thanks for the kind words, Twisted. More or less, mehopes more than less, the piece represents my general feelings toward a few of the great and giving female personalities about the boards. E_P_S, Eyes, X, Wolfy, Ghosts, Cussedness, Akhira, the list is long. People who have not only supported me, but who (with tireless tearful effort) support all the people in their lives, both in electronic and real form, and never ask for any kudos or praise—just plod on, doing great things and being an inspiration to so many of us.

I am also working on a masculine counter-piece, He is, to pay homage to those manly folk about the place, and once I get all the gehyness worked out of the lines perhaps I’ll post that one too?

In any case, thanks for noticing, and thank you for the kind sentiment.

We love you too, Tom. Now goddammit check your PM's!!

Twisted; not much I can criticize when you weave such a lean structure of reverberating words, slipping one against another, another few beneath, repeating the process unto near perfection. I would, instead of praising or general ass kissery, like to repeat some of my favorite lines.

Please, the rest of you reading this post and wishing for like praise, indulge yourselves in the following synaptic near-rapture of linguistic aptitude.

Mourning your Promethean plight
Zephyr turned violent; rent flesh from bone
Enter my ears like velvet
Framing thoughts with
Gloved hands
everlasting entreaty to the
fanatically faithful
xerox copy of my soul. Forever
Flowers bloom from a crimson dot
100 paper cranes,
Flutter to the floor:
Insane…


Now, that’s like Campbell’s soup, dig? Thanks for the reading.

[emeraldlonewoulf]

Monday Morning at the Office


Predatory incursion, barbaric assault,
politely masked,veiled, by burdenless words,
a query as to your present state,
interruption conjured by prosaic fate,
the blathering drone, free of fault,
unthinking, brainwashed, corporate clone,
personality devoid, the standard instruction,
company policy equals individualitys' destruction.

A pause, sugary smile, shake of a hand,
a "youngster of promise", the kiss-ass master,
a single promotion under the belt,
downward spiral of the corporate ladder,
for them, ever faster,
their licentious ascent akin to disaster.

Paycheck electronically over-extended,
overtime obligatory, compulsory, expected,
not by necessity, merely convention,
baited by salary, along with "respect",
i.e. natures' distain, disregard, it neglect.

Perhaps for some futuristic humanity
a renewed day will spawn, one of freed souls,
a renaissance-like creative dawn,
relief provided for this soul sucking insanity,
where spirits again birth original thought,
and to differ from the norm a quality saught.

[Blushing Heliophobe]

There's been some beautiful poetry in here...

Santerea - haunting.
Stone - the lady you write poetry to/about is a lucky woman.
Xng - reminds me of something I wrote a long time ago, and as such, I'm going to post it...

The American Way


A blond grinning mannequin
flashes me a gargantuan
plastic smile
flaunts her size one jeans
and
taunts her XS top

Bony models sway
sharp hips
and pose
angled limbs
empty bellies
and the breasts
that cling
to their protruding ribs

The American Ideal
Be like me

Pretty skull faces
tiny bump butts
thin skeletal fingers
that beckon
taut skin gropes -

Starve
Purge
Binge

Be sexy, be attractive, be
The American Ideal

Land of the Free,
didn't you know?
Come on - be free
be free...

[emeraldlonewoulf]

Amen. fried chicken, chocolate, and pasta are way too good to EVER look like that. Freedom to eat!
I'd rather be happy and plump than skinny and miserable.

Since there wasn't a toilet in your living room I decided to piss in the corner, hope you don't mind.

In regard to the pm, my reply follows.

It was purely self explanatory, why would you piss in a place that wasn’t designed to be pissed in and why post a short story in a thread designed to house poetry? Make another thread if you must, but keep some semblance of order, please. As for the writing, I’ll not read it, any of it, until it’s put in a more fitting thread. Sorry, I’m just assholish like that.

[Draconysius]

That's all I needed to know. I was only afraid I would anger someone by bringing up an ancient thread, but I ended up angering someone regardless. You can't please everyone.

-And TStone, I admire your honesty. This asshole could use another.

[Empty_Purple_Stars]

We do not have a short story thread, and will not have a short story thread unless the Admins notify me otherwise.

If they resume accepting Short Fiction Submissions in the future you are welcome to submit your selection to Gothic.net through the proper channels.

However, please do not start a short story thread or post short stories in the Poetry Thread.

Thanks.

[Draconysius]

I am sorry, but you are one minute too late. Please delete it if you can. I cannot myself; I've tried. my apologies, everyone.

[Empty_Purple_Stars]

I deleted it before I posted my reply, as you can see above.

[Draconysius]

I probably should have mentioned I posted a stories THREAD before I saw your reply. My apologies.

[corporalaccident]

Please give me some feedback on this, if you can:



Anonymous

Crumple and rewind in madness
break upon a silver spine
Enveloped in the raining thought drop
heavy still a written line.
Trembling go the finger ink blots
shapes sunk into whitened tree
Twisted outline dancing blackness
writes only what the mind can see
And if he were, he ought to be
hung only where the hands may stop;
Number song of tip drawn fine
known only vortex hour’s decree,
And asked he may he within time
of heaven glance well ebony-
Too point and lies beneath the skin,
real clockwork and a winter’s space
Two minds with which can only trace
dampened quill and line worn thin.
Blink thrice, the writer counts his dozen
with brilliant work anonymous
And bloodshot hand a quiver gape
drops idea pen touched board does break
Leaves brow of tear, he breathes he must
a sullen plume of poet’s dust-
With creak and lean in dark-world-grasp
four feet under him and held
By winged table, wearisome chair
a place by which he knew was bare.
Ill pen on ground so soon did melt
frozen template quantum task-
Enlighten us, dear writer dark
of gruesome pill and sickness mark.
Falls weightless changed and didn’t speak
of times ago and futures bleak.

Originally Posted by TStone

She is
by;
T. Stone



She is moonlight; starshine.
We look up in wonder;
marvel at her being
while we eat of the worm--
hollowing out her core.
She is radiance; joy.
We furrow her conscious;
fester and go to rot,
while she builds up a berm--
from apathetic spore.
She is singing us up.
From the decay and muck.
On her we sup and suck;
like parasitic worms--
we, into her warm core.

<end>

Once again your work leaves me speechless again. I love it.

You DO have a beautiful mind babe. Don't forget that.

[TwistedKitsune]

I've been falling a bit behind here owing to some health issues and some rather interesting developments in my life, but I would like you wonderful people to know you're kind words aren't for naught.

Originally Posted by A Simple Poet

Twisted: I liked that one too, but I still think your first Alphabet poem was stronger and more powerful. Maybe I missed the alliteration, but than again I tend to use too much myself. I liked "Promethian Plight", "Raven to your Poe" and the imagery of chasing warm blood.

Thank you! I'll have to agree that I like my first Alphabet poem more, the second one just has an entirely different feel to it. I've been meaning to give a go at more of them, but haven't really had anything spark me in to writing one lately.

Originally Posted by TStone

Twisted; not much I can criticize when you weave such a lean structure of reverberating words, slipping one against another, another few beneath, repeating the process unto near perfection. I would, instead of praising or general ass kissery, like to repeat some of my favorite lines.

Please, the rest of you reading this post and wishing for like praise, indulge yourselves in the following synaptic near-rapture of linguistic aptitude...

You've no clue how much hearing that just made my day. May have even just been the cherry on top of the sunday that has been this rather incredible week. Thank you so very much. Coming from you, someone I respect greatly for your lingustic capabilities and talent, they mean a great deal to me.

[corporalaccident]

I'm thinking you guys choose to not comment on my stuff. Does that mean you all hate it?



holy
dapple drowning the whichways of ever
told me to drop my bow and surrender my cause
to god
to their god
to the damaged and the lonely
and fight for the sake of something pure, something I can surely stand on
What if I’m too
gravity deficient to wrap around that notion
so I’m lifting the feathers on a black background and
rhyming
my century with heretic
silencing those wretched mumblings
wasted language
and choking them with my truths, my rights.
So what if the difference between us is
red and white,
god and godless?
These
condemnations still cut at the back of my throat.

[Draconysius]

Corporal-We read most of the poetry posted, but sometimes we're jst too lazy and/or busy to comment. As for your latest: I enjoyed it; as I have admiration for highly metaphorical poetry.

Here follows my first poem that possesses true effort and definition. It is about the one I dearly love. Don't worry; there's no whining within... I don't think.


"Danke Lieben -or- Gratitude for Love"

I held my breath
at the rise of this morn
to reflect on mine life;
some jilted, some shorn
Danke Lieben

I gazed into darkness
what doth loom behind me
I remember it well
you need not remind me
Danke Lieben

Things back then
were terrible, I know
I hate what I was
and though it diluted
I cannot forget it, change, or dispute it
Danke Lieben

Death be not proud
though I still do not fear it
No longer, in life,
shall I wish to endear it
Danke Lieben

For I have found beauty
in most unlikely of places
For thy beauty in life
My memory erases
Danke Lieben

[corporalaccident]

You wrote "Ode to a Poseur," right? I like your stuff. Especially your quote at the bottom "make poetry, not angst." Gorgeous.

[Draconysius]

Thank you. You have earned a PM, madam.