The Poetry Thread.

[Siren2011]

Write your best poems here. I'd love to read them and draw inspiration.

Here are two of my own.

-Burden-

In the circuitry of my memory resides a long-forgotten beast.
The droning murmurs of pain spill out of his mouth.
In his rotating chair he spins 'round.
Exposing a familiar face.

To acknowledge what I saw is not an easy task.
Some men live in hiding, others take off their mask.
It is at this point that I must burn an old bridge.
And accept the beast as myself, from the past.

-Vices-

A chill ran down my spine today.
It was a nasty spell.
I imagined the house had an intruder.
Only to find out I was right.

A chill ran down my spine six months ago, from this night.
A kind of ecstasy unknown to some.
Downstairs, the car that went off in the neighbor's front lawn.
Was a precursor for events to come.

A chill runs down my spine right now.
Convulsions of violent nature.
House is raided, belongings taken.
Including my life and the daughter I just gave her.

[Aquas]

I'll play along. A couple of my favorites.

Fossils

I check my fossils when it's late,
when it's late and dark and no one's there.

I search the desert plains
and drag my feet, drag them hard.
Drag them in a circle 'till I find my heart.
It takes the flesh from my shins
but it doesn't matter.

And when I get there it's dust,
I tuck in my brain and convulse.
I sneeze for two hours:
a rich cavernous musk.

Echoed are the springs, coves, and hives
that hold the oddest vibes and fights.
And too, the gigantic humming carcass
at the center of me.

Chips of elbow, skull and knee
broken from their moss encrusted base,
I feel both pang and numbing and
check the old holes, I need to!
I get down and whisper them--
right down out of my fingertips even.

~

One Legged Boy

One rickety corner tricked,
don't step there, don't move there, don't
slip the slick, just don't pick it.
It's empty, it's sliver licked--
sliver sticked where matter's stolen cellular.

But he went and done it, some kid really did it,
he cracked the latch where evil was art and took breath,
took to the tricks of the dark
and climbed into his attict.

He knew one rickety corner dipped, yes,
he had to have his sip, his tight crooked lip.
Guided then by raw order--
he pushed his foot
into the humming corner.
Was smashed and sucked into.

Did not resist or pull away,
or attempt to explain that day.
But where ever he limps
is the sound of a rickety border.

~

And some surrealist banter!

Untitled

Against the fray there's chaos web dripping bloody shadows,
and sublime are the limes taken from a Zeus time.
Battle of lightning spine ruined
electric bolt of wounded wizard tidal wave dreams
unconscious lack of breath in alien visitation.
Spore of a secret element is huffed with courage
by the degenerate anarchists, the bell toll warning
tintinnabulation forlorn storming yellow glow adorning.
Drunkenly singing banshee in the basement retracts
his claws accidentally to gag himself, choke
on a troll's toenail.

Sheer luminosity of fire hydrants
for a radiation moon twisting smiles uncharted
slapping of school children appallingly warranted
magic potion witches brew, black tea for a warden
who spat on decayed corpse mumbling ancient
for maintenance of a healthy spirit walking
out the cell wail missile non dented resistant
warrior tribe opposing rain for a festival of fires
slows the humanity of realization which a boy and a
girl have sex and backyard dinner
callings bloody apron slaving and surging
masturbating peeled scales of her fruit.

Softening of a jesters maximizing bread share
dragon squatting in a boyhood mental steals a treasure
of hers, dripping tightness, nectarine emptied arthritis
juicy bass line surrenders to fear limping
and bashed into the beach for snail food munching
slowly digesting in the belly of a collective beast
turned out lithe larks lolling for a shine,
bones sticking out in a dream through an
old kiss crush pouring cement as they do
down young throats - unbridled torture recalled
exhibit a missing limb, body parts serving
functions do not care but mind and soul
transforming revelation candle stick
melting wax flesh church sunrise winter
shattered glass in fire can't cope and too
a fear collapses to truth that bursting does
an ear to the noise of a daemon realm
for rekindled are the dreams of gods in humans
or should be throttled with soma bravely
in zodiacs told by grandpas wear knives.

Of awareness as to warn an heiress of the
common dangers of a rare world outside,
of entity demon veins that appear at night;
the construction of clock pendulums, rapping
at the door there is my sister I never met
and my heart like an orb I regurgitate
with stellar eyes of love and gratitude that
she enter this plane and we contrast
as elements do in chemicals vexation
of virus pandemic infestation, little worries-
people herding to each station, charging up briefly
with meager smoke and odd ends like a
half-dead plant, wishing wells found
with perseverance spout out frog men,
had the frog looks, had the frog books
and smirks.

[MadScientist]

It's several years old now, but it's probably the last decent thing I wrote;

The Earth That Fell To Man

Many epochs, eras and eons ago
The first life emerged from a flexible mold
With stolid persistence in the endless tumult
A foothold was gained and repelled the assault

From there, the bud bloomed
And the branches extended
With the earth as its womb
The tree of life had ascended

As the ages advanced
It became so resplendent
Nature nurtured and enhanced
A union of mutual dependence

So complex and intertwined
Inseverable and unified
Surely nothing could cleave all the vines
So disparate and diversified

But here we are in the modern day
Amidst a wave of desolation and decay
The Sixth Extinction some have termed
Man’s impact on this fragile world

The land he conquered and colonised
Its fauna, cornered and cauterised
Millions dead and lost forever
The tragic fruits of our tireless endeavours

It seems too late to halt the slide
Too late to cast aside our foolish pride
And our misguided notions that we have the right
To do with this earth whatever we might

If we could see ourselves as just a part of the whole
Dispel our demands and our rampant ego
And become a propitious servant with no claim to control
Something that started many epochs, eras and eons ago

[mesh control]

Rather than post some pretentious crap I wrote when I was 17, I'll post something I like.



"Style" by Charles Bukowski


Style is the answer to everything.
A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing
To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it
To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art

Bullfighting can be an art
Boxing can be an art
Loving can be an art
Opening a can of sardines can be an art

Not many have style
Not many can keep style
I have seen dogs with more style than men,
although not many dogs have style.
Cats have it with abundance.

When Hemingway put his brains to the wall with a shotgun,
that was style.
Or sometimes people give you style
Joan of Arc had style
John the Baptist
Jesus
Socrates
Caesar
García Lorca.

I have met men in jail with style.
I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail.
Style is the difference, a way of doing, a way of being done.
Six herons standing quietly in a pool of water,
or you, naked, walking out of the bathroom without seeing me.

[handsome_rakshas]

I love this thread. Good stuff guys, please keep em' coming!

[Siren2011]

I wrote this in five minutes. lol.

-B&S-

What lust is this? Should I be concerned?
The flower blooms, and stirrs up the herd.
Who insist that, "It is vile and sick."
The lower end of my moral mesuring stick.

Origins of the same, we belong.
In stormy weather, chaotic and long.
The morning of which we had no idea.
That we'd become one, again, in 25 years.

The whistles blew, the mobs threw their fits.
If they saw you removed, then they too would agree, "Dear God, look at those tits!"

But they choose to play different games. A game of misunderstanding; a game of hate.
In the form of a "law," they parade their "just."

Outcasts? So be it! And take everything! Make us miserable, post haste!
But you will never destroy our love.
And every spiteful act is assured to be a waste.
Where there are two determined minds,
they will find one another again. How does it taste?

While you all invested your energy into being dicks.
We ran hand-in-hand up the measuring stick.

[Aquas]

I hadn't written anything in a couple years but this thread got me back to it so I did it the cheap and raw way. So here's another stream of conscious surrealist-method type of thing that I edited for flow mostly, and removed parts that were just repeating "fuck" rhymes over and over. Who knows, maybe I'll write something carefully thought out soon >_>

And MadScientist, I like the craft on your poem you posted! You should come back to it sometime.

Dragon Goddess

Sweet shine finds the killer grind
and still limbos daunting mellow coolness
from sun extracts to mellow hardness the yellow
foams of sober dimmers but blotter acid
shot her luck lacked mind and tickled Elmo.
Well fucked fine missed mine late skyscrapes hell gates and
London boars gore swishes and shackles time
trimmed down to extraterrestrial mitosis of moles
something "'osis" that roasts kosher like litmus tests
punk shot to blood spurt turtle hurts.

Dragon goddess finds my womb tomb and doom fumes
but vacuums doom from the goony loon tunes, graciously.
Oh the watts that toddlers tot,
the tit-tot tabby cat traps of scat-- ain't batty
are the fang scoops at chicken coops but
looped is dungeon grime to descent of crackled
redness and complexes of curse-d objects like
the relic actuated restrictor circuitry template
passing through without resist like glorious tits
and Kit-Kat raps at labs with lab coats
that tote the most fucking fissured metals.

Grabbed from stars are molten cores
and doors that go to doors and stores
that host the cores of all fores
of poems that groan and turn to stones,
that disintegrate and reform and
appear again on all fours with greetings
and meetings and teethings that melt all of it,
babies needing grim reaping sleeping
time creeping slipping and tipping bib ribbing
tib-tabbing crapping and shotgun glassing--
don't feed the planetoid Venus fly trap
just stamp it of order and storm
the old quarters and mend the plum hoarders
from sadness of spiraled sand gaps.

Sit them at trees with unknown stumps
with fruitcake and delicate observation
to whatever lies within the crusts.
What becomes coral wafers and tapers with
frenzied dusts, what fish are globbing next to.
The ancestry of a foxes haunting and to rodent gropings
like Splinter in winter foaming, what all is out there
that stares into you without daring any words with "ing."

[terry330]

A free wind runs
Trees bow and rustle
A compliment paid
Frightened
The snow melts
Streams swell
False
Lies carried effortless
An unseen struggle
Worn
Burdened
Heavy
Tired
Nature
Helpless...

Perfect

Mommas got some big ol titties.

[Evilmaxwar]

Only Pseudo-poetry i wrote is in french, and not really sane...

[Nico87]

Wilfred Owen's 'The Parable of the Old Men and the Young'

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Parabl ... _the_Young

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

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

No use in trying to write my own poems when a poem like this exist.

[MadScientist]

And MadScientist, I like the craft on your poem you posted! You should come back to it sometime.

Thanks! Appreciate it.

[Aquas]

Hey, I wrote another stupid thing that mentions tits.

Somewhat inspired by ""The Blue Men of the Minch"

These are the adult version of drowning fairies. They go after sailors, either dragging them underwater or calling up storms to sink the whole ship. The only way to ward them off? Rhyming. Yes, that's right. You're about to be drowned, along with all of your friends, unless you win a rap battle.""

Thought I'd try to fend them off.

Doma Would Ensure

Doma'd ensure the pure lure and cure the beer'd deer
and sheer their fear from gears to tears and peer
their worst bursts and turn to bratwurst, the worst.
Call a nurse to kiss but thrown fits mitigate the cist
and chop the wrists and chop the tits, little bits
and bites and kites flown out of gowns like bow tied dinings
find things just fine but grimed plate rates fate fuck her panties
soaked in shanties lend fancy raspberry and melt and mold
such a cold fold it's told that wind blows and gunk dunks
to silver chrome and sights the alien rights to dole the golden tolls,
smirk that eleventh hour heaven-- Steven from deception havin'
and jerked is the cloth from both obscene growths
that reveals foal and fowl with legs kicking ill nibbling
from flesh flabbergast that tests rest and bests lest bubble nests.
Rubbed stubble wonders the thorn garden foliage hazards
and bounds the steep cliffs for crimson rifts for reeked nights,
his light, his bright might that kites deities right
and shines down all the brown moons. White.

[greg]

OK, so it's not in the same spirit, but when I used to work at IBM, my coworker friend and I used to do all sorts of stupid stuff, like shooting empty soda cans off each other's heads with a Nerf dart gun and such. When we were stuck on long, boring-ass phone conferences in which we only had to wait for our names to be mentioned for us to give an update and such, we would IM stupid, nonsensical haiku and tanka back and forth to each other.

Here's what we wrote (scroll down to the haiku part)

Here's some more recent ones of mine.

[Jockel]

[RNGmaster]

I love this thread. It's so bad.

powerglove.jpg

[antron]

Don't you forget about McVeigh
He blew that mu-fucker away
He just pulled up in a truck
And blew-em all to kingdom come

No one remembers McVeigh
They'd rather look the other way
And spit'n stare at bin-Laden
Cause they can claim he ain't their kin

He stuck in to old uncle Sam
By killing nineteen children
And don't forget their Ma's and Pa's
We peeled their bodies from the walls

Don't you forget about McVeigh
I've seen him just the other day
And you should know just what to do
When you find he's living next to you

Don't you forget about McVeigh
We sent him to hell you say
But I see it another way
I think we let him get away

Don't you forget about McVeigh
Who blew that mu-fucker away
And now you know just why I say
Don't you forget about McVeigh

©copyright antron

[evil_ash_xero]

My soul is being touched. Like, molested touched.

[Aquas]

Okay I wrote a real poem not gobbledegook after a wack off session like some of the other stuff I posted. LOL! Whatever. This one's kind of obtuse though.


Large Ones Miss the Small Ones

Black clouds are roughened and reddened,
blown all around and even separated,
the large ones miss the small ones
and cooled to heavy blues they rain.
That sad pain that stains main
the mud hills and lava veins,
one turns to goop and one hardens
but both smarten to godlike harpings
and atmospheric hearts tighten
and burst their worst firsts frightened.

See checker boxed forest paths in
preemptive storm clouds, you lay back
and feet float up there and walk there.
A musk of fertilized love pulls you in
and layers in your mind's thick web Cubs.
And on your way play checkers with an elk
and discuss best milk, "fascinating humans."
But like burdened tarps the boxes are dripping,
and one drip-drops your lip you're tipping.

It's wondrous reckoning kaleidoscopal
numbed by growth formulae laid out.
It's a shot through dark space
illuminated by sparks that are drunken.
It's ten thousand minnows working fevers at the pier
spreading secrets righteous all fear.

So rivers stray like coils
and slowly spiral gelatinous,
come barely cleanse your skin
but drown your thoughts immaculate.
There's a fondness beneath this body that washes deep memorially
where the murmurs of ripples secrete a certain longing between them.
...
Yeah, the large ones miss the small ones.
Black clouds are roughened and reddened,
blown all around and even separated.

[Siren2011]

This was what I wrote in the comments section of this music video by Aphex Twin, which is semi-poetic at the very least:

"This song must simulate the nostalgic feeling the average human being has during the last moments of his life. All it takes is the warm embrace of nothing to make you become a nothing. The dying man just knows...all he's known will soon vanish for eternity. Sitting underneath a tree's branches as they arouse his shadow from it's hiding place. Shadow says, "It's time to go, buddy," as the sun sets in the horizon. Tranquil, reflective, satisfied, gone. This is the best song by Richard, hands down."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MBFXJw7n-fU