Poetry here.

What is art? What is beauty?

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Dubious
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

A cat beamed at the other cat
in fierce communication
as if ready to commence
their feline meditation
in the outlaw realms of ESP
not outcast to cat sensibility!

But a problem yet remains
as we seem to lack the brains
to infer their revelations
purred in cotton syllables
of cat connotations.

Perhaps the peruse
the quantum flux in all but name
for it seemed if one were on the earth
and the other on the moon
they'd probably do the same!

...and so with nothing more ends my chat
on the weirdly wired pussy cat.
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

A PHOTON EMIT TIME

Time that a man can speak
is summoned to a peak
where he shall not fall
for a fall would require time
and without less than an ounce of an event
there is no time.
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

I need to go get drunk somewhere
so that i can get drunk somewhere
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

AS INTELLIGENT AS SENTIENCE WAS NOT JUST HIS, BUT ALL OUR SENTENCE

I want Gods computer
He told us a great lie
it was within SIN_AI
and followed on
from a son
well then hide amongst your skeleton shelves
because on Christ you should dwell
atheist - theist
it matters not
when we all know
a man went to the knot
stating HE IS of God
and still we share the same blood
both philosophies
are left to dwell
on what it is to
fathom it out
all i can say is
go deeper
fathom some more
because the truth
neither you nor eye should
ignore.
ihoardpoetry
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by ihoardpoetry »

I would love to hear some critique on this particular piece I'm working on!

Rosemary & Time

Behind your herb-stuffed ribs, a clock regulates your pulse
Lightly salted cogs create tremors in your kneaded fingers
Your body finds routine in a rusted Grandfather clock
Rhythmic restriction providing a timetable for your day.

Swallowing, silicon dioxide words slip down your hourglass throat
Never making contact with your clockwork heart
Hourglass melts, liquid glass time-teller replacing your blood

Now, you are the clock:
Prisoner of Thyme

Past hand rejects Quartz, synchronised by nostalgia
Points periodically to 1950s dance halls, cigarettes,
Weddings, home-brew and whiskey, Sunday afternoons
Filled with rosemary and thyme.

Present hand is fuelled by an atemporal erraticism
Pointing to an ever-changing countdown:
Weeks, months, days, sometimes even minutes
Diachronic volatility establishes an uncertain path.

Future hand crumbles into non-existence.

There will be a future without you, without your radio laughter,
Spring-bloom smile, and the ever ageless, Rosemary and Thyme.
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-1-
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by -1- »

ihoardpoetry wrote: Wed Feb 21, 2018 12:10 am I would love to hear some critique on this particular piece I'm working on!

Rosemary & Time

Behind your herb-stuffed ribs, a clock regulates your pulse
Lightly salted cogs create tremors in your kneaded fingers
Your body finds routine in a rusted Grandfather clock
Rhythmic restriction providing a timetable for your day.

Swallowing, silicon dioxide words slip down your hourglass throat
Never making contact with your clockwork heart
Hourglass melts, liquid glass time-teller replacing your blood

Now, you are the clock:
Prisoner of Thyme

Past hand rejects Quartz, synchronised by nostalgia
Points periodically to 1950s dance halls, cigarettes,
Weddings, home-brew and whiskey, Sunday afternoons
Filled with rosemary and thyme.

Present hand is fuelled by an atemporal erraticism
Pointing to an ever-changing countdown:
Weeks, months, days, sometimes even minutes
Diachronic volatility establishes an uncertain path.

Future hand crumbles into non-existence.

There will be a future without you, without your radio laughter,
Spring-bloom smile, and the ever ageless, Rosemary and Thyme.
Nice symbolism-turned-allegory here. As one addicted to puns, I liked the way you called out thyme on passing by.

It reflects the struggle of man's futile attempts at understanding the present. Sort of melds into a quantum-mechanic's concept of the uncertainty principle.

And you obviously like Simon and Garfunkel.
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-1-
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by -1- »

Whom is correct, < TengoSed > 2017-06-22 12:40
An Ode to Really Bad English

Whom is correct, thee, thy, though?
There harken tit lights, fuck your howr.
Anon, sagt grossmutti, beyond the bleu horize...
On and on ride the white ghost writers in the sky.
Dubious
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

Oh God!!!
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

-1- wrote: Wed Feb 21, 2018 2:10 am Whom is correct, < TengoSed > 2017-06-22 12:40
An Ode to Really Bad English

Whom is correct, thee, thy, though?
There harken tit lights, fuck your howr.
Anon, sagt grossmutti, beyond the bleu horize...
On and on ride the white ghost writers in the sky.
What you have there is an ode that doth bastardise the most sacred of all languages, the language of the poets and science rendering time reducing said sacred language to a convoluted hysterical quaqgmire of bollocks.
Dubious
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

Isn't rotten poetry the only kind being written these days? If you're buried in the middle of a verbal landfill how does one tell the difference quality wise, between left and right, front or rear?
Impenitent
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Impenitent »

rotten poetry...

ok, heeere's Johnny:

I am an anti-christ
I am an anarchist
Don't know what I want but I know how to get it
I wanna destroy the passer by

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
No dogsbody!

Anarchy for the U.K. it's coming sometime and maybe
I give a wrong time stop a traffic line
Your future dream is a shopping scheme

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
In the city

How many ways to get what you want
I use the best I use the rest
I use the N.M.E
I use anarchy

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
The only way to be!

Is this the M.P.L.A
Or is this the U.D.A
Or is this the I.R.A
I thought it was the U.K
Or just another country
Another council tenancy

I wanna be anarchy
And I wanna be anarchy
Know what I mean
And I wanna be anarchist!
I get pissed! Destroy! "- Johnny Rotten (John Lydon -Sex Pistols) [Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/john-lydon/-/anarchy-in-the-u-k.html]

-Imp
Dubious
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Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

Impenitent wrote: Thu Mar 01, 2018 1:27 am rotten poetry...

ok, heeere's Johnny:

I am an anti-christ
I am an anarchist
Don't know what I want but I know how to get it
I wanna destroy the passer by

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
No dogsbody!

Anarchy for the U.K. it's coming sometime and maybe
I give a wrong time stop a traffic line
Your future dream is a shopping scheme

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
In the city

How many ways to get what you want
I use the best I use the rest
I use the N.M.E
I use anarchy

Cos I, I wanna be anarchy!
The only way to be!

Is this the M.P.L.A
Or is this the U.D.A
Or is this the I.R.A
I thought it was the U.K
Or just another country
Another council tenancy

I wanna be anarchy
And I wanna be anarchy
Know what I mean
And I wanna be anarchist!
I get pissed! Destroy! "- Johnny Rotten (John Lydon -Sex Pistols) [Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/john-lydon/-/anarchy-in-the-u-k.html]

-Imp
The lyrics lived up to his name...and based on the "music" - I guess that's what it's supposed to be - the other appropriate name would be Johnny Racket. In short, it's Johnny Rotten Racket all the way!
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

If we all knew
that an intelligence
grew
from the chaos of then
a time on the bend
a pain not felt
a smell not smelled
an unfound sound
a taste too profound
and a light to provide
all that would be found
would you believe
the grave would
compound
us all to the ground
for the six sense to be
found?
atto, drunk on the ground.
Walker
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Walker »

“I Am Not I”
BY JUAN RAMÓN JIMÉNEZ
TRANSLATED BY ROBERT BLY


I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
who will remain standing when I die.
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attofishpi
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi »

DAY OF RECKONING

Two days of reckoning
I have felt
was it God's consciousness
that then I was dealt?
Feeling the chaos
the synapses switching
the heat of the Sun
and i'm just a son
why upon me
why should I see
the sea of the ocean
is in complete retreat
all of my knowledge
force fed to my pledge
my toes curling
over my soles near edge
the furnace burning
upon each thought is fraught
with the insatiable knowing
from which I was taught
for what I did
I must pay
too late to pray
I am the universe's prey
each thought twisted
upon itself
and I feel my flesh
no longer my self
but what does it matter
that is all I am
is my soul an ION
am I the ram
the beast
now fleeced
what did I pose
to this
far too many
QUEST_IONs
a bliss amiss
don't eat from the tree
or suck it and see
you'll be the sap
fool into its trap
where is my Christ
He doesn't help mice
that look down and wander
attempt to look up
and wonder
Y?
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