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POETRY - Can you write a Poem?

I'm thinking I may wind up to be a dark kind of poet...unintentionally. Suicide isn't really on my mind so much as an escape from this planet is. I don't feel like I am even part of the human race, things are just getting stranger and stranger, especially to the people who look into the abyss so to speak.

There is light in places least expected, this I know. Waiting for that is whats bothering me.
 
The man had the most
epic
mustache of them all and we
applauded
so loudly that the neighbors complained.

In your box of
hand-me-down presumptions
records
ideals fastened secure by a 1.20 clipboard
you found security
insecurity

Fuck that larval stage
but wasn't it the tits?

Yeah,
they agreed
and snapped their fingers in approval
and begged for an encore and you blushed
and swept back onto the stage
and open your mouth
but nobody bothered to listen.
 
Witness Fallacy

I see a girl laughing happily; she is eating an ice cream
I see a couple sitting on a bench; singing serenades and melodies romantically
I see a dove flying, hurrying towards freedom
I see a comet burning, leaving the vast atmosphere
I see a mother crying bitterly; waiting for her only son that is being operated in a hospital
I see an athlete in a wheelchair; his eyes reflecting misery while he misses his olden days
I see a solace wolf howling to the silent moon; sounds very lonely
I see a scientist working very hard to prove a new formula
I see a baby sleeping very deeply, peace is shown in his face
I see the noon deadening, symbol of lost hopes and broken dreams
I see a lotus withering in a dirty murky pool
I see a surgeon in panic, trying hard to save his dying patient
I see a pianist playing wonderfully, yet her emotion is currently absent
I see a butterfly dying on the pavement, lacking attention
I see a dream ends, its dreamer has decided to end it smoothly
I see a dolphin swimming and leaping, joy of life is fully expressed in every movement
I see a god confused, whether to grant a new life, to lengthen a life, or to take away an existing one
I see a weed on a wasteland, struggling hard to survive
I see a drug addict lying on an alley, waiting to die of overdose
I see a president lying; his only sworn duty is to corrupt more and more
I see a paparazzi sneaking, trying to get new hot news
I see an egg hatching without its mother care
I see a beggar on a street, with fake gloom and false pity on his face
I see a fox hiding from hunters, wondering could it get home safely tonight
I see a fugitive running away, trying not to be caught again by the police
I see a wave coming endlessly, with vitality and eternal vigor
I see a clock ticking, without any expression, and unstoppable
I see a hacker thinking hard, how he could break through an extra-secured national secret archive
I see a book being torn apart helplessly, without any effort to protect itself
I see a virgin in tears; she’s going to get married to a person she doesn’t know or love
I see a student feeling nervous, worrying if he could proceed his studying process or not
I see the moon cracks; it’s ugly indeed
I see a father in vain, thinking about his children and about his financial problems
I see a friend in joy, because his friend’s enemy just got a problem
I see a demon dead, without knowing myself, whether I should be feeling happy or not
So I see myself now, for not trying to judge anyone with a false empiry and a fake hypothesis; to see myself as an eye
 
My other favorite living poet. There are poets and then there is genius... like Robert Plant.
I sincerely love all of Bob's work but this stands out as his masterpiece for me. If I may share?


My love is in league with the freeway.
Its passion will ride
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Otp4N38ABC0"]as the cities fly by and the tail lights[/ame]
dissolve in the coming of night
And the questions in thousands take flight.


My love is the miles and the waiting. The eyes that just stare and a glance at the clock. And the secret that burns and the pain that won't stop.

And it's fuel is the years...




My love is exceeding the limit. Red-eyed and fevered with the hum of the miles. Distance and longing my thoughts do collide.

Should I rest for a while on the side?



Your love is cradled in knowing eyes in the mirror still expecting they'll come.
Sensing too well when the journey is done there is no turning back.
No...there is no turning back on the road.




My love is in league with the freeway -- and the coming of night time.
 
I wish I had a grasp of metaphors like Plant has. But I fumble and get twisted about until my metaphors have a lazy eye -- on the rocks.:rolleyes:


Freef, you are getting paradoxically simple with your complexity my friend.
I likey!

************

And Mateo, I like your story, it reads like a small Indy film with foreign influences that I'd be hard pressed to place, or like a misplaced memory I'm tickled to recall.
Nice piece.

************

And Molotov -- hey sexy! I sense we share an affinity for the macabre. We are both slightly bend, no? We aren't above pushing an old lady down an elevator shaft for our readers, amiright? haHA!
Please don't straighten up, I'm very fond of your dry Edgar Allen Poeish wit and pseudo horror movie scenery.
:=D:Thanks again bro...

************

And Ambro, welcome to the dark side of the moon, the lunitics are in the thread...the lunitics are in our thread. Remembering games, daisy chains and baths. We've got to let the loonies see our ass!
Keep em coming sir.

************

And Lefty. What can I say? Talk about dark places. hehe You're the Godfather of Darkness here. The Master of Bation. The Duke of Earl Grey areas. I love you sir, tell me, does your wife know about us yet?
...if we held another intervention, would you not skip out on it this time? Pretty please with sprinkles?
02b78d78634824db549240c4bce2fa9f.jpg



I'm a sick motherfucker!
**sneezes on post & coughing without covering mouth**
I'm contagious too... be warned!
 
Wow! I'm falling woefully behind in my poetry thread reading and posting.

Ambrocious, I still need to find the time to read your major contribution.

Molotov,
Your poem brings a lot of angst and anguish at friendship lost and self-deprecation. I look in the mirror frequently.
Your verse definitely reminds me of a mistake or two I've made in my life, that I beat myself up over for long periods of time.

DON'T. Learn whatever lesson there is to learn about reading people, and move on. Don't berate yourself. The friend isn't worth his salt.

---

MateoBoi,
A very interesting piece of art.
Your verse contorts our minds.

---
I'll be back in a bit.
 
Angst -- it's been a plus
Thanx -- you've solidified my disgust
In the fireplace you'll find the bones
Of Santa and his drones

I want the most, to say the least
There's a rabbi, a monk and a priest
Stop me if you've heard this one
Your taste is on the tip of my tongue

I laughed my moneys in a banks
Held my tongue and offered thanks
But once I found the more I knew
The world is round yet I'm still blue
 
Another of Robert Plant's dear masterpieces for posterity...

Ship Of Fools

On waves of love my heart is breaking
And stranger still my self control I can't rely on anymore
New tide, surprise my world is changing
Within this frame an ocean swells
Behind the smile I know it well

Beneath a lover's moon I'm waiting
I am the pilot of the storm
Adrift in pleasure I may drown
I built this ship it is my making
And further more my self control I can't rely on anymore

I know why, I'm crazy on a ship of fools

Turn this boat around back to my loving ground

Who claims that no man is an island?
While I land up in jeopardy
More distant from you by degrees
I walk this shore in isolation
And at my feet eternity draws ever sweeter plans for me


[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uc-eDaEZ4LU"]Oh, crazy on a ship of fools[/ame]
 
Fallacies

Shed your inibitions, seize the light.
Make opportunity a slave to your whims.
Accept what you can change,
Deny all that forsakes you.
Live with every ounce of your life force.
Reign in your desires,
Set free the keys to your heart.
Envelope sadness with your calming guise.
Make believe you're something you're not.
Forget who you wanted to be.
Run away from all you hold dear.
They will find you and erase you.
Bear witness to the end.
 
I wish I had a grasp of metaphors like Plant has. But I fumble and get twisted about until my metaphors have a lazy eye -- on the rocks.:rolleyes:

I don't think you have to imitate someone's style to make a good poem. It's like yearning your neighbor's green lawn---been there, so I understand your point.

You already have the nature; all you have to do is to develop it into---not orgasm, lol---a full flowering bloom AND to try doing something new. In short, a new style by trial and error. :)

Freef, you are getting paradoxically simple with your complexity my friend.
I likey!

Really? Is it really that simple? I'm flattered !oops! :kiss:

Now can I lick your sugared cane? :badgrin: :p
 
It's dead. Again. Dang, I'm such a thread killer #-o ](*,)

Gardens in the Rain

Tears of the sky fell over the earth
Vigorously attacked helpless ornaments
The shallow wind merging with the tempest
Marrying all to the verge of berserk
The only conclusion drawn by onlooking
As water bullets splattered on windowpanes

Gardens in the rain, in the heart
My garden, our garden of secrets
Protecting us awhile from the battles ahead
Within embrace and shelter of the foliage
And by the charms of pretty flowers blooming
Dispelling the tides of unpredicted dangers

Ruined colours of my fanfare-like daydreams
Depend on shapeless phases of weathers
Random, reciprocal, and haughty indeed
But embeds deep into the core
Through the luxurious yet plain gazes
Similar and familiar like mothers’ lullaby

Beauty’s true partner is always violence
Because the coarse screeches blend perfectly
With haunted violins of tingles and noise
Extorting the wet sparkles of rendered panorama
Drifted grace fled away to the gloomy sky
As sulky notes hush clueless dreams apart

Gardens in the rain, in the heart
My garden, our garden of secrets
Now its barrier has sullen
Leaving us vulnerable against attacks
But may the illumination not be erased
About future landscapes prone to be revived
 
Not dead...just punch drunk from Halloween party syndrome by proxy.
*********************

**cracks knuckles and stretching hamstrings**


about human pyramids
by
ShihTzuAllenPoe

hear a word for the penny wise
every stone in a wall this size
can break from its mortar -- weather -- time
so how wise is it to skimp on the lime?



about human pyramids part ii
by
ShihTzuAllenPoe

we are these stones
all made of bones
so hypothetically
now bear with me...
we could drop
the dude on top

a44c260091f427b0f1d33a7505a5bd0a.gif
 
This whole thing is just life to me

That we express in the poorest (mine anyway lol) of bad poetry

Traipsing down the shuttered halls of the Sad

Climbing stalwart and shining towers of glad

From the noisy accordion and its fusty wheeze

To the filthy bold porno and its attracting sleeze

Grown people just killing their time

Chasing after illusive rhyme

The whole thing is just sick to me.

And sure as shit.....some of it(mine anyway lol) lousy poetry.

* ^ * ^* ^ * ^ * ^ *

Created especially for this location by......

LEFTY (Bobbin and Throbbin) Thereau the First

Thats what I say to all that stuff above.
I
 
OK,
I have been remiss in my mission.
Reading and responding to those of you who have posted
poetry and prose for our perusal and appreciation.

Ambrocious,
You write an intensive treatise.
We've known each other on here for awhile,
and have conversed a bit, now and again.

You speak of a soulless desperation, and the futility of the good fight.

Nay, I say to you, it is a plight
against which we all must be ever
vigilant and full of might!

Lo, though we may tread near or e'en
through The Valley of the Shadow of Death - we shall fear No Evil!

Death is not an intrinsic evil.
His is an honorable duty, to
escort us when our time has come
to the rewards of our great beyond.

And, as for those "oblivious",
No doubt some are, but for others,
mayhaps not such a fuss.

For though many of us have not the perfect life,
and we've encountered mor'n a "bit of strife",
We continue to battle like the Good Wife,
fighting to carve out a niche
near enough our loved ones
that though we sometimes bitch,
We know in our hearts,
of them we are parts,
just as they,
come what may,
are part of us, too.

Life is not to us handed on a platter of Gold,
Nor e'en Silver, truth be told.
And mistakes we've made,
as part of our lot in this life,
which, no doubt, has added to our
Earthbound strife.

BUT! Life is precious, a gem from on high. And love 'round us DOES Abound,
waiting to be found.
And sometimes we fare trip o'er it, aye?
For 'tis Our OWN blindness from the shite in OUR eye
that prevents us from seeing what's been there all along,
just waiting for us to join in the song.

That's not the same as having life all our way, Nay.
For LIVING means getting up each day
and WILLINGLY joining into the Fray
to battle back scorn, and loathsome despair,
and preserving what's good, just, and fair.

We imbue you with Love and Caring, kind sir, each day you're here on God's green Earth, with or out myrrh.

Just open your arms, heart, and willing mind,
and let our ministrations your troubled wounds, bind.

---

MateoBoi,
I have to agree with FreeFall - your "nothing" certainly isn't.

It is a dark foil, of sorts, to Ambrocious' heavy treatise from the downtrodden side of life.

I am reminded, in a frightening sort of way of "Tommy" by The Who, and the mindless, at any cost, drug-induced sexfunk searching for gratification with no substance.
Spooky.

---

Ambrocious,

Sinister as Silence definitely leaves my mind reeling,
trying to discern how to unravel the dark tapestry.

Much truth there is within your verse,
Sadly, that's what makes it all the more perverse!
For Whether "Left" or "Right" or Up or Down, the power mongers among us bring us naught but frown.

Their parasitic need to suck us dry,
wending their ways to the end of days,
manipulating the truth as they see fit,
then tell us their vampiric "kiss" won't hurt a bit.

We have Glenn and John both on the Mall,
Reflecting the anger, disillusionment's pall.

But, You are RIGHT at the end of the day,
WE must fight, in our words and our play.
And ALL bear the burden of Life's Liberty.
It's hard work and courage we all need,
to bring sense back to the politico's and our messages to heed.

---

And, YES, You ARE a part of the Human(e) Race! Mayhaps you need to be in a different part of this great country to find, once again, your face and Grace!

---
Molotov,
I already posted, jsut making sure I don't miss someone accidentally.

---

MateoBoi,
I still am feeling my brain twist and contort a bit at the visual / sensory feelings your disconnected perverseness brings!
(Don't take that as an insult - it's not meant to be!)
---

FreeFall
Witness Fallacy
I'm trying to relate to your newfound role as an impartial observer of life - trying hard not to insert a storyline in what you see, but to reserve judgment till all is revealed to thee.

Perspective - a funny invective.
We see through the filters of our own lives
and, hence, what's on offer our mind's interpretation plies.
But what we might "see"
in the light of day might flee.
which brings us back to your
haunting poetry.

---
Tzu
There's mor'n a bit of irony in that vid!
p.s. love your running commentary - and your Sprinkles on top!

You are one sick bastard, lol.
---
And, such a short, succinct recap of an evening's events?
---
Gus, I do believe I've found where you've not been hiding - I just have been wating to get through all of you till I did justice to Ambrocious' work.

A bit of cornery and schtik to go with the candy coated stick?!

Next up, a response to post #425.
Back in a few!
:wave:
 
Tzu,
He does have a great panache to his verse.

At least we know who's captaining our dinghy, now!
---

Jaybiz,
What an intertwining cacaphony of light and dark, freedom and forlorning.
The undercurrent of conformity, hiding within the youthful ardor of uniqueness.

---

FreeFall,
You're not a thread killer - life happens. I've been trying to get through Ambrocious' offerings, but my mind wasn't in the right place - too damned tired, lately.

Gardens in the Rain
I've been wondering how you've been doing, if you were hit by any of the Monsoons, Typhoons, Earthquakes, Tsunamis type weather that has abounded in the Pacific Rim this Fall.

And then, what do you present us with, but this haunting piece.
So captivating while disturbing.
The truth of the statement
"Beauty’s true partner is always violence" is more than a little disturbing.

But, violence of grass fires clears the praries of our country, the undergrowth of forests, allowing light and air and new birth to flourish.

Similarly, the annual flooding of the Nile and other rivers provided the nourishing sill and topsoil for another year's bountiful harvest.

And, there is a majestic beauty to the aftereffects of some other horrific events.
---

Tzu,
I wasn't quite sure which direction you were coming from with Human Pyramids I & II.
The Pyramids made by the back breaking labor of the mass of humanity, or were WE the actual "stones made of bones" - then where is the mortar locking you to me?

If not overthought, like the Anal Retentive I am, there's a message, mayhap, to hit you, kaBAM!

(To a Polka Beat, no less, lol!)
---

Lefty Thereau (sic) nowhere near Walden Pond,
Come, dear sir, let me give you a frond
with which to cool down your o'er taxed brain,
from enchanting us with your magnificent refrain.

For, once again you've managed with sublime wit near fright,
to deduce what we've all been about,
and bring it round front and set it all right.

(That's my story any and Adhesion's sticking to it.)
:wave:
 
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