Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Sat Dec 21, 2013 5:48 am
Confusion is dreams and dreams are confusion
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Poetry here.
Page 33 of 80
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Sat Dec 21, 2013 6:35 am
I'm still not sure i understand, i'm not sure i ever will, aand i don'rr even understand that
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2014 11:41 am
Space Cadet
If i saw you as little more than stars
in my eyes
I should think to pawn you and rid this curse
of your disguise
I lament your insidious indulgence
reaping the reward, the promise
and lack of knowledge
Your docile flame licks my toes only
and from here you wish to know?
With payments made and suits tailored
you laugh without foresight
vigour
or craft.
I take as it took
I give little but little's nook.
And think as you thought little
little more and become so brittle
thought flanging out to the heat
Your thought to think you thought to meet
to meet me?
Snap!
Fall Fool.
Swing down, flightless now this star
to the ground.
Here hear? Hear no sound.
Now your me
little?
dont self pity
without air,
in the darkness,
you'll hear nothing.
If i saw you as little more than stars
in my eyes
I should think to pawn you and rid this curse
of your disguise
I lament your insidious indulgence
reaping the reward, the promise
and lack of knowledge
Your docile flame licks my toes only
and from here you wish to know?
With payments made and suits tailored
you laugh without foresight
vigour
or craft.
I take as it took
I give little but little's nook.
And think as you thought little
little more and become so brittle
thought flanging out to the heat
Your thought to think you thought to meet
to meet me?
Snap!
Fall Fool.
Swing down, flightless now this star
to the ground.
Here hear? Hear no sound.
Now your me
little?
dont self pity
without air,
in the darkness,
you'll hear nothing.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2014 11:08 pm
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What TV shows have you watched?
Books
What books have you read?
Likes
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Religionship
Groups
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TDHC presents...
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12 members
A place for intelligent people who...
INSIDE MY FRIDGE (2012)
102 members
INSIDE MY FRIDGE a photographic...
Notes
· 1
from media lens
By Jack Cross · Saturday, April 16, 2011
The media presents itself as a neutral window on the world. We are to believe that the ... See More
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Jack likes Heathwood Press » Why Edward Snowden’s Leaks Have Empowered All of Us...
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Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 3:55 pm
Critique must be abandoned in favor of something that has no relation whatsoever to its enemy,
something whose development and trajectory is completely indifferent to the nonlife of governance and capital.
The New School is dead, and with that we are born. We are an image from the future, and the past is yet to come.
something whose development and trajectory is completely indifferent to the nonlife of governance and capital.
The New School is dead, and with that we are born. We are an image from the future, and the past is yet to come.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 6:01 pm
Tyler Durden: Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
Tyler Durden: We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.
Narrator: Martha Stewart.
Tyler Durden: Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns.
[while burning the Narrator's hand with lye]
Tyler Durden: Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?
Narrator: No, no, I... don't...
Tyler Durden: Listen to me! You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen.
Narrator: It isn't?
Tyler Durden: We don't need him!
Tyler Durden: Do you know what a duvet is?
Narrator: It's a comforter...
Tyler Durden: It's a blanket. Just a blanket. Now why do guys like you and me know what a duvet is? Is this essential to our survival, in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we then?
Narrator: ...Consumers?
Tyler Durden: Right. We are consumers. We're the bi-products of a lifestyle obsession.
[Poem on Narrator's computer]
Narrator: Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave.
Tyler Durden: Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it!
Narrator: OK. Give me some water!
Tyler Durden: Listen, you can run water over your hand and make it worse or...
[shouts]
Tyler Durden: look at me... or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn.
Narrator: Please let me have it... *Please*!
Tyler Durden: First you have to give up, first you have to *know*... not fear... *know*... that someday you're gonna die.
Narrator: Tyler, what the fuck is going on here?
Tyler Durden: I ask you for one thing, one simple thing.
Narrator: Why do people think that I'm you? Answer me!
Tyler Durden: Sit.
Narrator: Now answer me, why do people think that I'm you.
Tyler Durden: I think you know.
Narrator: No, I don't.
Tyler Durden: Yes, you do. Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
Narrator: Uh... I... I don't know.
[Random flashbacks]
Tyler Durden: You got it.
Narrator: No.
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because...
Tyler Durden: Say it.
Narrator: Because we're the same person.
Tyler Durden: That's right.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 11:56 pm
Keeping this thread going by pitching in my two cents.
The Janus Man
He promises the weather to be nice, bright shining.... yet he unleashes the thunder, lightening, rain, tornadoes, and quakes over the peoples' eyes. He talks like a white dove, singing the language of peace.... yet after the songs he sings, he tears out the heads of innocent babies and devours them like a black vulture. He acts and plays righteous in the day time, while at night he comes into people's houses life a thief to steal and run. He's like a childhood friend who later on backstabs you and bullies you in High School.
Call him Janus,
Call him a two face,
He's duality in unpredictable ways.
He's charming,
slithering,
cunning,
conniving,
yea... a confidence man.
Just imagine those people running a country.
The Janus Man
He promises the weather to be nice, bright shining.... yet he unleashes the thunder, lightening, rain, tornadoes, and quakes over the peoples' eyes. He talks like a white dove, singing the language of peace.... yet after the songs he sings, he tears out the heads of innocent babies and devours them like a black vulture. He acts and plays righteous in the day time, while at night he comes into people's houses life a thief to steal and run. He's like a childhood friend who later on backstabs you and bullies you in High School.
Call him Janus,
Call him a two face,
He's duality in unpredictable ways.
He's charming,
slithering,
cunning,
conniving,
yea... a confidence man.
Just imagine those people running a country.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 12:32 am
Too late, we don't have to imagine.WanderingLands wrote: Call him Janus,
Call him a two face,
He's duality in unpredictable ways.
He's charming,
slithering,
cunning,
conniving,
yea... a confidence man.
Just imagine those people running a country.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 12:43 am
I appreciate your comment, but let's keep this strictly poetic, as it is all for the sake of poetry and eloquence to balance the masculinity of a man.thedoc wrote:
Too late, we don't have to imagine.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 1:25 am
WanderingLands wrote:I appreciate your comment, but let's keep this strictly poetic, as it is all for the sake of poetry and eloquence to balance the masculinity of a man.thedoc wrote:
Too late, we don't have to imagine.
Is it acceptable to hope for 'Poetic' Justice?
I couldn't think of a rhyme for 'imagine'. Or Justice.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 1:28 am
Elected to high Office,
Only then,
Realizing his incompetence.
Only then,
Realizing his incompetence.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 1:33 am
The fiction of qualifications,
Is only seen,
When imagination becomes reality.
Is only seen,
When imagination becomes reality.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 1:41 am
Those who deserve,
Poetic Justice,
Often do not get it.
Poetic Justice,
Often do not get it.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 2:14 am
Love the poetry, Doc. Always a great pleasure and enjoyment to be creative.
Re: Poetry here.
Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 2:19 am
I have another one (and many others, but I'll just do with this one for this post).
Raven the Sorcerer
A Raven enters into the night.
He does a ritual... the Dance of Death.
The Nature's creatures are subdued and benign
and are in a trance, even when the Raven has left.
The trees now tumble from the lightening,
killing the creatures of Nature.
It looks like tonight is Hallow's Eve
and the Raven was really a sorcerer.
Black magic in the air... spirits are rising.
Swords of Fire they are singing
out of their mouths onto all life and humanity.
Now is the Grim Reaper's time to reap.
Raven the Sorcerer
A Raven enters into the night.
He does a ritual... the Dance of Death.
The Nature's creatures are subdued and benign
and are in a trance, even when the Raven has left.
The trees now tumble from the lightening,
killing the creatures of Nature.
It looks like tonight is Hallow's Eve
and the Raven was really a sorcerer.
Black magic in the air... spirits are rising.
Swords of Fire they are singing
out of their mouths onto all life and humanity.
Now is the Grim Reaper's time to reap.