Poetry here.

What is art? What is beauty?

Moderators: AMod, iMod

Walker
Posts: 6530
Joined: Thu Nov 05, 2015 12:00 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Walker » Fri Dec 21, 2018 1:45 pm

Well, somehow it did lead to this.

"World Weary"
The Fixx

World weary
is there a dream in your heart?
World weary
take it back to the start

Little lacklustre
the nut's in your hand
Little boy hopeful
don't you plant in the sand

And you will see
hearts are pumping for you
And you will find
there's a vessel for you
And you will grow,

Roots are searching for you
There must be a reason for it
There must be a
Reason for us all

Little partaker
there's a role you must play
Little facemaker
smile on your day

World weary
write your name in the stars
World weary
you are back at the start

Dubious
Posts: 2174
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious » Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:38 pm

attofishpi wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:39 am
Yes, Dubious, nice poem - although I would not have been adverse to just one more verse! :D
Thank you for the "nice doggie" complement! I'd be wagging my tail by now in gratitude if I actually had one! :lol:

You say you wouldn't be adverse to one more verse. Here's the original ending to the poem..

But if screw-ups follow screwing
which seems to be the case
and the most we do is our undoing
then even god will hide its face.

Dubious
Posts: 2174
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious » Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:47 pm

Walker wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:16 am
That's pretty dang good with sparks of brilliance.

The devil who's seen his graceless rule
staged and looped since time began
knows himself not half so cruel
as the sixth day wonder God called man.
Thanks Walker! It wasn't hard to write and consider most of the other quatrains superior. I was seriously considering leaving this one out completely. Nice to know someone likes it!

User avatar
attofishpi
Posts: 3247
Joined: Tue Aug 16, 2011 8:10 am
Location: Orion Spur
Contact:

Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi » Thu Dec 27, 2018 4:45 pm

Dubious wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:38 pm
attofishpi wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:39 am
Yes, Dubious, nice poem - although I would not have been adverse to just one more verse! :D
Thank you for the "nice doggie" complement! I'd be wagging my tail by now in gratitude if I actually had one! :lol:

You say you wouldn't be adverse to one more verse. Here's the original ending to the poem..

But if screw-ups follow screwing
which seems to be the case
and the most we do is our undoing
then even god will hide its face.
I knew us dogs had a sixth sense! :D
It is a great poem.


DUBIOUS indeed!:-

Consider all that must conspire
to create the creature God called man
in pagan preludes of desire
rippling the void in a moment’s span.

Is it man or homunculus
that grows upon the deed
or a guru god who comes to us
to serve the world’s need?

To think on how it all began
when first his foot had felt the earth
concluding in its fatal plan
to ravage that which caused his birth.

What shall be deeded by his tenure
wanting power but wisdom none
for one would negate the other
and force the balance he seeks to shun.

By it's justice reigns salvation,
the Eldorado of the soul;
may it's plunder spread damnation
to all delinquent of that goal.

The devil who's seen his graceless rule
staged and looped since time began
knows himself not half so cruel
as the sixth day wonder God called man.

But still he prays to receive from yonder,
quarantined in light and unpolluted
a message for his mind to ponder
yearning to be reconstituted.

What does it mean to be a master
in the hemlock realms of scorched infinity?
no gods of creation or disaster
but stranger modulations of divinity.

By what excess must thought advance
to recoil the coronal fires of the brain
and deed itself that mighty glance
peering past portals from whence the spirit came.

Its truant shards must not lie fallow
as remembrance flows to other realms
and brand despair a thing most shallow
flayed in the light which overwhelms.

But what followed the creation
of the lesser angel man?
No tragedy before or after
only a farce that long began.

But if screw-ups follow screwing
which seems to be the case
and the most we do is our undoing
then even god will hide its face.

Dubious
Posts: 2174
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious » Fri Dec 28, 2018 10:35 pm

attofishpi wrote:
Thu Dec 27, 2018 4:45 pm
Dubious wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:38 pm
attofishpi wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:39 am
Yes, Dubious, nice poem - although I would not have been adverse to just one more verse! :D
Thank you for the "nice doggie" complement! I'd be wagging my tail by now in gratitude if I actually had one! :lol:

You say you wouldn't be adverse to one more verse. Here's the original ending to the poem..

But if screw-ups follow screwing
which seems to be the case
and the most we do is our undoing
then even god will hide its face.
I knew us dogs had a sixth sense! :D
It is a great poem.
Thanks Atto, but when it comes to poetry whether great, mediocre, or lousy it all defaults to the same outcome, indifference. No one's to blame since it has no economic value of its own. Even classical music, which is on the way down, still requires orchestras, performers and soloists, etc., who must get paid. Poetry has no such requirements. Perversely, I don't mind posting some verses here knowing it will be read once or twice by two or three people and then disappear forever which I prefer in any event. It's the way things are and values change, they always do!

Btw, though it makes no difference to me for reasons stated, but there should be only one ending verse. Either the screw-up one or as written. Two codas don't make sense. It causes an imbalance since the poem is already fairly short.

Also, I don't want to seem too negative on the human race! :lol: :lol:

User avatar
attofishpi
Posts: 3247
Joined: Tue Aug 16, 2011 8:10 am
Location: Orion Spur
Contact:

Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi » Sat Dec 29, 2018 3:14 pm

Dubious wrote:
Fri Dec 28, 2018 10:35 pm
attofishpi wrote:
Thu Dec 27, 2018 4:45 pm
Dubious wrote:
Fri Dec 21, 2018 10:38 pm


Thank you for the "nice doggie" complement! I'd be wagging my tail by now in gratitude if I actually had one! :lol:

You say you wouldn't be adverse to one more verse. Here's the original ending to the poem..

But if screw-ups follow screwing
which seems to be the case
and the most we do is our undoing
then even god will hide its face.
I knew us dogs had a sixth sense! :D
It is a great poem.
Thanks Atto, but when it comes to poetry whether great, mediocre, or lousy it all defaults to the same outcome, indifference. No one's to blame since it has no economic value of its own. Even classical music, which is on the way down, still requires orchestras, performers and soloists, etc., who must get paid. Poetry has no such requirements. Perversely, I don't mind posting some verses here knowing it will be read once or twice by two or three people and then disappear forever which I prefer in any event. It's the way things are and values change, they always do!

Btw, though it makes no difference to me for reasons stated, but there should be only one ending verse. Either the screw-up one or as written. Two codas don't make sense. It causes an imbalance since the poem is already fairly short.

Also, I don't want to seem too negative on the human race! :lol: :lol:
I do apologise, I actually though it DID need one more verse, and in fact, I liked the tapped on extra verse! Just shows what I know eh.. :D

User avatar
Eodnhoj7
Posts: 3572
Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:18 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Eodnhoj7 » Sat Jan 26, 2019 9:12 pm

Not original

“an icy cold grips my soul.
I am past the point of pain.

It’s like a death deeper than truth.

I’m spinning in vast darkness. It’s inside me.

My
conscious self shatters under
this dilating darkness”

User avatar
Eodnhoj7
Posts: 3572
Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:18 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Eodnhoj7 » Sat Feb 09, 2019 10:29 pm

To pick up a rose is to bleed,
and cut oneself off from beauty
curving itself by a beautiful loss.

A finger pricked is the first lead,
towards a path of futility,
concealed by a futile cross.

The blood is but the soul's reed,
swaying gently in a hand's winding flurry,
a hidden fury, subtle.

A print of the finger but a blossoming beed,
the rose a passive impression,
Red, a mirror to impress.

A warning of garnet, sown as a seed,
the crystalization of two bloods as one
a simple gesture left undone.

Oh, the fading of beauty, a quiet need
for a season of winter in the mind of a children,
but this sacrifice is the child.

How much more is the rose to bleed,
through the hands of intention?
Was all of this ever really my intent?

User avatar
Eodnhoj7
Posts: 3572
Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:18 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Eodnhoj7 » Sat Feb 09, 2019 10:32 pm

A heart moving from thread to threads
Searing cracks in the mind,
heated by cold deprivation.

Weaving Fate's Golden Cord,
knotted and entangled,
Vortices of one deep intuition giving holes to reason,
twisting a sense of the self.

Tears run down the face,
Streams of broken glass, prisms of lost dreams,
cutting softly through a hardened face,
hammered by a cloud of time.

Empty space, blued by fog of serene thought,
an opening of the eye.
Gated by atoms of memories,
Dissolved through the stirring of time's sharp movements.

A flickering hope within the womb of unknowing.
Head rested in her lap, she runs her finger's along old scars,
light folding through light.

Sealed within a veil of the vacuum,
oblivious to desire or intent.
Waves resonating unpitched sound unravel as a bed,
Images of time, flooded in tranquility.

Finger's calloused by a burdened mind
a caressing her breasts,
softening the coarseness of a disturbed sea,
hardening and lengthening the vitality of reason.

The "I" folds into her,
penetrating mysteries,
the "I" thrusts deeper and deeper.

"Will" released,
a neck bejeweled by the tear's of a lover's pain,
bending the curvature of space, she arches back.
Her lips breath into the psyche,
spreading open she receives
to birth thought and feeling,
all unknowing.

User avatar
Eodnhoj7
Posts: 3572
Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:18 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Eodnhoj7 » Thu Feb 14, 2019 7:24 pm

"Of Gentle Memories in the Night"


"Moments scented in her touch,
rose minting its value within.

A gentle bite into her lips,
strawberries bleeding through spring.

A heart wounded by soft skin,
fingertips printed into mine.

She looks into me and I am lost,
identity reduced to glass.

A lock of hair, curling over her eyes
the night glistening its tranquil black

The sun crystallized in the dew of a cherry blossom
her gaze drips into me.

A heart beat,
gentle rhythms of the ocean in my palm.

A calm tempest of desire raining gentle harmony,
her legs caressed as strings within the frame of
A silent melody uncomposed.

Tears of painful pleasure runs down her breasts,
The stag drinks from this brook.

Delicate toes curling,
One lover into another folding

Her echoing sights, acting as the as the sheets
binding two lovers in purple satin.

Dreams of a child concieved,
hope bounded by hopeless longing.

All things run their due course,
a dry river bed of once cherish thoughts.

The stretching of the prison bars of imagination,
The light of loss swing back and forth in my cell.

All things become vanity,
in the presence of once found intensity.

Dissolved within the cloud of time,
a wife stolen by cruel fate.

Longing steering itself within tears,
Her eyes are but a source of pain

Set within a clouded sky,
the silver of the moonlight trying to break free.

A vital heart, becomes a cracked mirror
of gentle memories in the night.

User avatar
Eodnhoj7
Posts: 3572
Joined: Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:18 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Eodnhoj7 » Thu Feb 14, 2019 7:46 pm

"Of Love Binding Time Within Mercy"



"The silent value of mercy binding,
in a world burning away, love is but an image,
in a world starved of quality.

We are pulled apart by the seems,
time is being pulled apart,
I am pulled apart.

Movements to and fro separate us,
time is our identity,
a short one, giving scale to our qualities

Set apart on this measure,
a weighing of the hearts,
value is but gravity.

Pulling together planes of thought,
a mind bending in accords to intent,
the weighing consumes my sight through question.

Will she join me in the horizon of the great level?
Are the demon's of our father's and mother's,
to be release by fate's unwinding?

Or will they be the degrees which seperate us?
The cord's tightens by our sins,
circumstance placing one love above another?

The silent judge stares,
his iron staff a boundary between our worlds
uniting us by the dictates of the quiet moment

An unbound water of awareness
releasing a gentle white flame, burns off time,
in its own measure of washing away.

Sparks of memory rise up as smoke,
planting the movements of the stars in the sky,
a guiding path for as above so below.

Isis sets her hand on Osiris to soften his gaze,
The Virgin Mother whisper's "Cana" to the Son of Man,
Freya calms the madness of One Eye, by endless fields.

Judgement dissolved, time chosen as the proof in favor of lesser gods.
Youth poured out as wine in accords to the ancient ritual.
The silence speaks:

"Love is but a gentle wind of mercy, giving breath to life,
giving fire to the soul as it caresses the unknown,
good will sets its sail to an unset course."

User avatar
attofishpi
Posts: 3247
Joined: Tue Aug 16, 2011 8:10 am
Location: Orion Spur
Contact:

Re: Poetry here.

Post by attofishpi » Sun Mar 03, 2019 3:28 pm

I love everyone
I love everyone
Apart from all
the murderes rapist
paedophile
scum
I love everyone
I love everyone
Apart from all
the murderes rapist
paedophile
scum
I love everyone
I love everyone
Apart from all
the murderes rapist
paedophile
scum
and when the judgement
comes
I'll lose pity
and
they'll succumb
666
is no fun.

Ghost
Posts: 16
Joined: Tue Mar 12, 2019 2:49 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Ghost » Wed Mar 13, 2019 3:26 am

While I memorize a few of my poems, many are not suitable for the public Hahaha I have a dark humour and it is greatly revealed in my poetry.
But, sometimes, there is love, or something like it. I have no idea what love is because I have never been in it. Not romantic love anyways.
I do have male friends though, that I watch get torn limb from limb by the women they chase after. I wrote this for one of them after seeing how damaged he is.

*Untitled*

I would touch your soul
by seeping my love through your pores.
Rubbing you all around,
in ways you've never felt before.
I can soothe your heart,
that has been so badly burned,
by healing you with my words,
that I can mend your wounds from head to toe,
in body and soul.

I would laugh with you when no one else would understand,
and always let you know where you stand.
I adore your mind and can't believe any woman would hurt such a man,
or not have him satisfied every second.
If you believe in me,
I can show you,
and you would be left without doubt....

Because I would hold your heart in my hand,
kiss it,
and place it back in.
~

Dubious
Posts: 2174
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Glow worms

Post by Dubious » Sun Apr 14, 2019 9:49 pm

Through solitudes his thoughts pervade
like glow worms gleaned through enfolding twilight
where naught is rendered what was made
soliloquies chanting through the skylight.

Himself one spirit shared by none,
vehemence rebounding to self-intent
which like a comet near the sun
portends the sequel of its banishment.

In cold renown his thoughts must strive
bereft of charts or helmsman for their guide
when what seemed lost shall come alive
glow worms that never ceased to shine inside.

User avatar
Gary Childress
Posts: 1249
Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
Location: USA of the UN

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Gary Childress » Wed Apr 17, 2019 5:10 pm

Irreparable Damage

The dispute
Was difficult to witness
Something you just couldn't miss
Or ignore
It was ugly for sure
The proposal was rejected
Our opinions collected
then we were told
To simply reject all before
which once seemed
Like common sense
But now in past tense
Was simply a phantasm
Of delusion
spread by
Our collective confusion
I cannot deny
I was taken back
By what I saw
And heard
For not a single one of us
Said a word
Of protest
Or could neither suggest
An alternative plan
Of action
Other than this course
Of retraction
Of the mistake
That was never made
And which we were forbade
To retell
Another soul
And so we remained silent
Apalled and even struck
With awe
By the levity
Of our deeds
Born out of greed
And fused with ambivilence
We had done the unthinkable
And yet remorse
Could not change the course
We had laid for ourselves
We were now complicit
In this illicit affair
The die cast
And our fates
At stake
And now it was time
To come clean
And we couldn't.

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests