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    Poetry Thread

    I dug around a bit and couldn't find a poetry thread, so i decided to start one .
    Post your own poems or your favorites .
    I'll start 'er off. This one is by me .
    (Also feel free to give constructive criticism, i'd really like to improve and develop my poetic abilities :=):.)

    BlacknessMadness
    Vastness
    Endless
    Shrouded in Blackness, Madness befalls
    The Vastness of Dreams are Endless Sprawls

    #2
    Re: Poetry Thread

    I really like your poem, but is the first part the title, or part of the poem? Using the same word twice if its part of the poem sort of throws off the groove, but that's just my opinion.

    To add to the thread, here are some of my poems:

    The Birds by the Wild Sea

    Where have they all gone
    Those birds who nested
    By the wild, wild sea

    Where have their wings
    Taken them, upon which
    Winds have they flown

    And when may those
    Birds who once nested
    By the wild, wild sea

    Return to these shores
    Only to follow the wind
    Time and time again

    Hanging Feet

    Hanging my feet
    Over the edge
    Of the dock

    Below me
    An endless abyss
    Black and terrible

    How beautiful
    It is really, here
    Above the abyss

    Cheap Wine

    Impassioned spirits
    With a tang of greatness

    Tastes more like
    Cheap wine to me

    Reflection

    Peering into the pool
    I see only a fool peering back

    What reason has he
    For staring as he does

    Perhaps he seeks answers
    Hoping to unravel the world

    Where then shall he find them
    There is naught here to see

    Or maybe he needs no reason
    And simply watches his reflection too

    Existing there, wondering
    Why such a fool stares back at him

    Comment


      #3
      Re: Poetry Thread

      I'm going to join in and share some poetry! First some of my favorites from my book of poetry "Cascade!" Maybe I'll post some of the ones I've been working on for my second book some time :P

      You Silence the Stars
      you suck the sleep sweet from my eyes
      and burden them with black millstones
      across the spanning length of past prairie
      we wander through flowing channels like
      children, rolled up pant legs,
      splashing to the beat of non-existent futures

      I can see stars out at night, and they are your starts
      because the constellations were mapped to you, and each light your target
      you make your hand trajectory
      and our pupils widen
      burning atmosphere to the pulse of hypothetical rockets

      you widen the path between us, and the roads lengthen and stall
      but every night you are drawn in the stars
      and you shine on me in effigy
      as my feet shuffle firmly with the pavement
      my coat clinging to my chest
      your light pulses with the one in my ribs
      raving and dancing to the girl I would tramp my feet with

      but here we are on Earth
      which is less gem like then a raft in a dark and searing ocean
      tossed along the sea till we hack our lungs upon the shore
      of a far and distant land we dream of,
      we cannot walk our feet there
      we cannot swim to its shores
      but the crew is nauseous, and the stores are low
      and I would jump with you if you asked
      your arms cutting through the water
      and our eyes meeting in the ice Atlantic
      caught in the midst of our freedom
      swirling in the half thought dreams
      of a girl who could swim through stars and skies
      and slice the Earth open to the sound of her own heart

      Paean to the Last Girl Expected for Recess
      These were the days of Jesus Christ
      who sat under wilting fig trees, consecrating the dynasties of France
      and the alcoholism of America
      with free handouts at Cana
      These were the days of witchcraft
      like the buried baby, knocked into the river by ruffians
      and high five with beers afterwards
      as we war-paint watch through bushes
      These were the days of Pagans
      with hair like scrolls of wisdom and the blood red sunset
      who looked me in the eye like heathens
      as I read the Acts of the apostles by halogen
      These were the days of Christians
      curled in the corners by computers who gave us warmth
      listening to the sermons of madmen
      and the cockatrice that chimed thrice
      These were the days of Angels and Demons
      These were the days of God and Gods
      These were your days and my days
      And I consecrate these days to you
      and each moment passes that I wait like a furnace
      to light your sacrificial fires and paint ourselves like Delphi
      while I drip a bit onto my crucifix
      and I long for the color of our lips to meet
      and for Lord Jesus to watch with anticipation
      as we make peace through pantheons
      and I pull you tight against me for Easter and Solstice
      and rise again in the ashes of old
      These are the days I sacrifice sins at your alter, and wipe myself clean
      No more a God then a man, and no more a man then a catalyst
      To make myself that which you deserve, the impossible
      because every moment you wait
      is a day we sacrifice anew

      Japan, Oh God, Japan
      Japan
      Oh, God
      Japan
      Why is it
      When I type "tentacle" into Google
      I get not a happy Octapus
      but horrors I can barely comprehend
      Japan
      Oh, God
      Japan
      Even with your cherry blossoms
      I curl into the fetal position.
      hey look, I have a book! And look I have a second one too!

      Comment


        #4
        Re: Poetry Thread

        It's old but something you might like

        .......................

        A bird in flight upon the land

        From spiraling heights my form takes wing
        Above them all I rise and sing
        Wind and current are my best friend’s
        They lift me high to fall again

        Across the land I soar in grace
        I move from here to there and leave no trace
        On feathered wing I glide at night
        On feathered wing I touch the dawn’s first light

        Soaring high I pass from place to place
        I watch them all but see no face
        Down below their forms do flee
        With hawk like eyes it’s all I see

        Across the valley and water too
        I’ve swept them all and cruised them to
        I’ve seen the fog roll out upon on land
        I’ve seen the fog hide all trace of man

        In the past was leathered wing
        But today it’s just a feathered thing
        Teeth are gone with hand of time
        Yet a ripping beak was left behind

        Hollow bone they claim I have
        Pockets of air to soar above the land
        Feathered brow with colors vast
        I claim my glory though it won’t last

        I soar and turn with graceful ease
        I rise and fall upon the breeze
        I twist and turn in gentle flight
        I drop to the ground with speed of light

        With razor sharp claw I grab through space
        With razor sharp claw I rip from place
        Safety is not a thing to me
        I’ll grab my prey from land or sea

        A call you’ll hear upon the land
        But look you not for I won’t land
        I’ll soar on high so far above
        If you’re lucky I’ll mark your glove

        No master I have nor serve you I do
        Yet once in a while I may work with you
        A whistle or call may bring me near
        But I land with my pride not joy nor fear

        A hood you place before my eye
        A hood to block the kiss of sky
        Behind the hood I sit in quiet
        It’s time I have and mine to buy it

        But hooded fowl or freedom beast
        The air it calls and sings of feast
        I’ll dream and journey upon my eye
        For what I remember is times gone by

        Yet hold me tight you think you do
        But never worry for I’m older than you
        My kind was here before the dawn
        My kind was here before your spawn

        When the tides turn and winds do call
        Your fate will be sealed yes one and all
        But in the air my form shall fly
        I’ll soar on heights as you wave goodbye

        8 January 2010


        - - - Updated - - -

        Here's another little piece that you might enjoy

        .....................

        Twas the night before Christmas and all threw the house
        Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse

        But in my home the Yule log did burn
        While across the lands the hunt did return

        Yes Odin he lead them all a great chase
        With Human & Horse and Dog he did pace

        The night she started, after Mothers big day
        With the Winter Solstices but hours away

        A tree of green it graced the space
        Like Yggrasil of old its cosmology embraced

        Hung from the rafters and hung from the beam
        The Mistletoe hung and berries did gleam

        A darling young lass would glide from the fire
        With laughter and song her voice did raise higher

        Beneath the Mistletoe, with berries so ripe
        The maiden retreated while the lad did alight

        With eyes full of joy and flickered delight
        Lip to lip they kissed for the night

        About the mantle of door bright with green
        The holly did clutch at things left unseen

        While out in the hollow and out in the dale
        Spirits did walk but the holly protected well

        In midwinter’s grasp the land did lay fallow
        But Frey prepared the land for the Prosperity to follow

        In the land that lay to the south, The Druids did go
        The golden sickle did swing to pull out the toe

        Up in the Highlands the fire did grow
        On high shrouded peaks the flames they did glow

        Out on the horizon a light we do see
        It’s the new born sun poking over for you and for me

        The long sleep that held us alone in the night
        Now gives away to the plume that now grows so bright

        The ashes are scattered, spread out cross the land

        But a fragment remains of a log to be burnt once again

        Magic and festive the 12 days should be
        With feasting and drinking till light we do see

        In some places comes a jolly old man
        In other we known it Epona’s grand stand

        Holly and Oak they battle the day
        Yes Holly will win while Oak does give way

        Many a color has shown forth its face
        The red of the fire and green of the tree the gold of the sun a few we do see

        Berries of white from frigga’s sad face
        ‘Twas Valdurs demise the Mistletoe did haste

        In that land across the sea, did the Kachinas return for all to see
        While deep in the hearth the fire was cold, Hestia warmth would start a new glow

        Across the lands the goddess did ride
        Were dreams they inspired as we all slept inside

        The sun will return. The day will grow shorter
        The wheel it will turn into the next quarter



        - - - Updated - - -
        I'm Only Responsible For What I Say Not For What Or How You Understand!

        Comment


          #5
          Re: Poetry Thread

          from last April:

          April frost

          April lusts for the warmth of spring's glistening, pounding showers,
          That decrystalize the winter's chill and contemplative hours,
          For plans set thoroughly through in the dreams of night
          Mean nothing without the thrust that is made forthright.
          So when startling frost beckons a return to hopeful sleep
          After summer's blade is ready bared and the active slice begun,
          still shallow though yearning desperately for deep,
          The cold feels colder once we've tasted of the sun.

          "No, no, you're not thinking; you're just being logical." -- Niels Bohr

          Comment


            #6
            Re: Poetry Thread

            Woah, thanks for all the contributions guys! Lets keep em coming =D
            Also, thanks a lot Mundus =) and the spacing of it kinda got bonked, it's supposed to be more like,
            Blackness,
            Madness,
            Vastness,
            Endless,
            etc etc etc

            Comment


              #7
              Re: Poetry Thread

              The Tiniest Light (For Nicholas 9/22/78)

              The tiniest light, you held
              the flame of life in your newborn hands
              A moment, an hour, a day…
              A cool dark wind blew it out
              You were no more.
              Never to know the agonies
              and joys of love
              But love you had before you
              came to be.
              I weep in silence
              for I will never know you
              and you will never know you
              touched my heart.
              Tomorrow and the next day and the next
              I will think of you…
              I am grateful now for the days of my life
              But if I could
              I would have gladly given
              some to you…
              The tiniest light.
              sigpic
              Can you hear me, Major Tom? I think I love you.

              Comment


                #8
                Re: Poetry Thread

                When The Moon Turned Red

                A parchment to reflect
                Because the moon turned red
                Not could I forget
                Anticipation's effect

                I lay I to sleep
                My mind now holds no dreams
                I stand up on my feet
                To watch it bleed it's peace

                A portal in the clouds
                Behind the lightless house
                Immortal thoughts abound
                A loudly silent sound

                Welled up with water's joy
                The moon told me a story
                How could we forget,
                The night when she turned Red?

                Comment


                  #9
                  Re: Poetry Thread

                  Here is one about Mr Penry:

                  High up in the garden
                  Penry is lying, p****d
                  Playing with his ballista
                  He has struck a Methodist.

                  Says it all, really
                  www.thewolfenhowlepress.com


                  Phantom Turnips never die.... they just get stewed occasionally....

                  Comment


                    #10
                    Re: Poetry Thread

                    A single touch by her hand fills my heart with happiness. Her voice so soothing and beautiful my heart skips a beat. I feel her hand pressing against mine so gracefully and beautifully like a gentle touch from heaven my heart is always open for you my angel and life. Gently my life is being filled with happiness once more as the aching in my heart slowly stops. Now my angel I wish to hold you tight in my arms as I feel her gentle kiss.

                    Comment


                      #11
                      Re: Poetry Thread

                      Independence
                      For independence we have fought
                      So many wars, and probably more
                      So much destruction we have wrought
                      When will we see the end of war?

                      They say there’s glory in the field
                      And honor in so many dead
                      But if you’re brave, you’ll never yield,
                      ‘Till, like a stream, the field runs red.

                      So go to war, and if you’re good,
                      If many enemies you slay,
                      Homecoming in a box of wood
                      Still greets you at the end of day.

                      Humanity, this I implore:
                      When will we see the end of war?

                      A Poem for Mabon
                      Mabon,
                      A youthful god
                      Prepared for Death.
                      His time has come,
                      His strength is passed,
                      And now he goes
                      To rest at last.
                      The Goddess his Mother
                      Is now the Crone
                      Who leads him on his way.
                      Winter comes again.

                      Mabon,
                      A noble sacrifice,
                      A gallant death.
                      The Golden Days
                      Of Summer gone,
                      The Wheel of the Year
                      Turns ever on.
                      Like the noble Sir Gawain,
                      He faces his fate without fear.
                      A gallant knight indeed.

                      Mabon,
                      A god of power
                      All year round.
                      His strength is as
                      The golden Sun,
                      Still shining brightly
                      When he's done.
                      A time will come
                      At frozen Yule
                      When he will return again.
                      Life is everlasting.

                      Colors
                      This world has a lot of colors
                      Like the waves at sea
                      Or the blue of a robin’s egg
                      Or the vast expanse of
                      A clear New Mexico sky.
                      “Azure”
                      Said a schoolgirl when asked to name the colors,
                      “Cerulean”
                      “Cyan”
                      It can be the denim in your jeans
                      Or the periwinkle in your hair
                      Let your geek out and it’s a TARDIS
                      A Ravenclaw scarf
                      A Waterbender cosplay
                      Or Benedict Cumberbatch’s eyes.
                      We could make a rainbow
                      With all these colors
                      But it would be monochromatic
                      Because believe it or not
                      They’re all just blue.
                      What am I to do
                      With a world in monochrome?
                      My teacher asked us to name the colors
                      And everyone in this class
                      Is exactly the same.
                      They win praise for their imagination
                      And creativity
                      In saying the exact same thing.
                      Boldly now, I stand up
                      “Can you name a color?”
                      Defiantly, I answer
                      “Scarlet”
                      And they all look at me
                      Like I didn’t understand
                      The assignment.

                      The Friendzone
                      I’m sorry my intentions were unclear
                      To you, but know it was the truth I said
                      Perhaps for you the truth is hard to hear
                      I’ve no desire at all to share your bed

                      And yes, I know: you’re just the nicest guy
                      Why would a lady wish to remain chaste?
                      But that won’t work on me, I know you lie
                      So your beguiling prowess goes to waste

                      I am a feminist and I am strong
                      And there are many more who stand with me
                      I’ll have you know we’ve been here all along
                      And we won’t stop until the Earth is free

                      So check your privilege, put it on the shelf
                      And ‘scuse me while I disinfect myself.

                      Word Search
                      A blank page
                      Pen in my hand…
                      Nothing.
                      Thoughts in my head
                      Tumbling around…
                      Nothing.
                      The world is full of
                      Billions of people
                      Going about their daily adventures,
                      A plethora of inspiration
                      Surrounds me daily
                      Like a whirlpool of art
                      And yet…
                      Nothing.
                      All I can think of
                      When I sit down to write
                      Is an onslaught of words
                      That aren’t mine.
                      Unusable.
                      Nothing.
                      So I sit here at the window
                      Watching the world go by,
                      Empires rise and fall,
                      People live and die,
                      And I have a pen in my hand
                      And a blank page before me.
                      Nothing?
                      Is this who I am?
                      Am I the child in the corner
                      Doing a silent word search
                      While Daddy’s in a meeting,
                      Who cries into her pillow
                      Because secretly she’s brilliant
                      But the world doesn’t see?
                      Or am I the woman
                      Who used to be that child?
                      A storyteller
                      A writer
                      A poet
                      With a pen in my hand
                      I could change the world.
                      Nothing?
                      Nothing is unacceptable.
                      And suddenly I look down
                      And the page isn’t blank anymore
                      Because if there’s one thing I know
                      I know this:
                      There is no one in the world,
                      No one at all
                      Who deserves to be
                      Nothing.

                      Comment


                        #12
                        Re: Poetry Thread

                        A lot of people have told me they love this one (applause if you get the reference)
                        Remembering the 5th
                        Violent villain versus vigilant victim
                        Who will stand victorious
                        In this vivified London square?
                        The voice of the virtuous
                        The valiant vox populi
                        Shall not be vanished for long
                        Vicariously we stand
                        Shouting “Viva la Revolution!”
                        When justice is vacant
                        Then virulence remains
                        Verily, we will never forget
                        And vividly, we will always remember
                        The night we vanquished the vermin
                        And took back our land
                        Your verbiage sticks in our minds
                        Like the 5th of November,
                        Your vengeful vendetta
                        Makes you a victor for us
                        They may call you V
                        But we call you brother
                        Know that your valor was not in vain
                        For you are vouchsafed in our hearts forever
                        And you shall never be forgot

                        - - - Updated - - -

                        and I just wrote this one today:

                        Turn on the Light
                        Blackness clouds my thoughts
                        Ignorance is the greatest obscurity
                        Turn on the light
                        What is this image
                        I see an outline on a wall
                        Turn on the light
                        Illuminate the minds of those
                        Uneducated and poor
                        Let them know what it’s like
                        To know their world
                        Turn on the light
                        Depression and schizophrenia are
                        Real world problems
                        And Mufasa’s death was sad
                        But sadder still are the wars
                        Which tear Africa apart
                        Too many people have been sleeping
                        For too long
                        How can we awaken them?
                        Artwork and music strive to enlighten
                        Let them shine like Auroras
                        In the darkest Northern sky
                        Let our expression wake the people
                        Gently, like the dawn
                        Wake up, my friend,
                        And when you do,
                        Turn on the light.

                        Comment


                          #13
                          Re: Poetry Thread

                          This will be my first post. Hopefully many more to come.

                          --I Play My Part--
                          The world takes a breath and sighs,
                          The winter wind stings the eyes,
                          Changing with a steady pace,
                          Why should life be a race?

                          Take note from what surrounds,
                          Only human ways confound,
                          Taking more than what we need,
                          On destruction is what we feed.

                          Why can the Sun not bring us peace?
                          Or the rain, a sweet release?
                          Complaining about getting wet,
                          The Earth's equity is our debt.

                          Digging toes into dirt,
                          Not minding stains on a shirt,
                          Seeing nature and seeing art,
                          Life is a play, and I play my part.
                          --

                          --The Red Sky--
                          The Red Sky

                          Ah, the red sky of civilization,
                          A beacon of industrialization.
                          Advancing to stars that cannot be seen,
                          Landmarks not reached, becoming a theme.

                          We slyly paint over what cannot be had,
                          We call things good that are actually bad.
                          Do not misinterpret our media's intention,
                          Only showing what grabs the mass' attention.

                          Tragedy sells while the truth is ignored,
                          When not watching screens we are innately bored.
                          Needing a fix to make our heads buzz,
                          Who cares if they lied about who it was.

                          A haze now covers our moral foundation,
                          Our ability to change long suffered castration.
                          The only escape was to look up to the sky,
                          If you could see the stars, we might ask why.
                          --

                          --So Life Goes--
                          How does a mind so small,
                          Comprehend a world so large?
                          A vast expanse stretching out
                          Beyond the imagination.

                          Even of what we can see,
                          There is so much that we cannot.

                          Infinite trees,
                          But each tree is a microcosm of life.
                          Bark,
                          The topography of many a being's existence.
                          To them, even to consider another tree
                          Is to consider a life worlds away.

                          As a human stares at a distant mountain peak,
                          A beetle senses a branch just out of reach.

                          The breeze,
                          Slowly rocking the trunk,
                          Seemingly a constant movement,
                          Like a boat adrift in the ocean.
                          To man,
                          When not ignored,
                          It is a momentary comfort.
                          Enjoyed while it lasts
                          And missed when it ceases.

                          So life goes.
                          What it is to one is at it should be,
                          And as it is not to another.
                          We must appreciate
                          The perspectives we do not.
                          --

                          --A Cool Mist--
                          A cool mist hugs the ground,
                          Insects chirp from all around,
                          The Sun begins it's mighty climb,
                          As it has done since the dawn of time.

                          A shallow rumble from the sky,
                          Echoes of light quickly fly,
                          Through our ears, and through our souls,
                          Thunder like time, sounds in steady rolls.

                          Birds greet the hidden day,
                          In tree's protection they will likely stay,
                          Watching life without a care,
                          Content with this, the life we share.
                          --


                          Thanks for reading! See you around.
                          -Callum

                          Comment

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