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OT: Original Poetry Thread

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  • #31
    Originally posted by turnip


    I'll have your head for this, Stevo!


    I like your poems dude.

    Comment


    • #32
      Originally posted by turnip
      one-pound gift

      i just stand here in front of you
      with my heart in my hands
      i
      Coppula eam se non posit acceptera jocularum.

      Comment


      • #33
        Sleeping lies, the dogs,
        the minds of a generation,
        that clothed themselves,
        took on appearances in public places,
        made their demands met
        and are still depraved.
        The strength of lack,
        the lost,
        wanted documents with power,
        unwanted children screaming,
        in acronical ademption of good intentions.
        You beasts,
        you would-be men,
        facilis descensus Averno.
        Reality is the original Rorschach.

        Comment


        • #34
          Bump, in the most artistic way.

          Falling, round corners of roads leaving blue days and green nights, lives rushing onward into the walls they have built 'round themselves are falling upon them, keeping in the hordes they so wish to flee, escape is simple, but is not easily accomplished.
          Reality is the original Rorschach.

          Comment


          • #35
            Wow...everyone..that was certainly amazing reading... Beautiful infact. Thank you.
            I do not need one!!!!!!!

            Comment


            • #36
              "One Last Time"
              Sick of playing this game called life
              I just want to make it end
              I will not put my loved ones through
              what you put me through
              Somtimes the ride gets rough
              Somtimes I just want to give up
              but bye the time my life is at its end
              I'll want it back one more time
              let me live again
              one more time
              erase my past
              bring you back again
              just for a moment
              to tell you that I love you
              One last time...
              San Diego sXe Hardcore!!!

              Check out my band: Embrace These Hands

              To The Whole world you may be one person, but to one person, you may be the whole world

              Comment


              • #37
                wow! some cool stuff in here. i posted this in the guitars thread, but it seems to be dropping faster than a newbies questions about the buzz on their new squire.

                An Observation at the Onset of Night


                A shroud of twilight
                somnolence
                falls, woven
                from the delicate breath
                of sleeping insects,
                their lost empire grown
                in exiled secrets,
                in lightless depths
                of nether space reserved
                for things banished,
                for uncontested heresies,
                for truth
                best written in dead tongues
                on crumbling skins
                stripped from living sages,
                and for dreams.
                אין סוף

                Comment


                • #38
                  Silken trails
                  Jamaican flax
                  Wisdom seen
                  on tortoise backs
                  Bolder die
                  too nobly bear
                  Drink hot tea
                  from eye of hare.

                  Wind blown trees
                  now autumn greet
                  Grass roots grow
                  above deaf feet
                  Drink hot tea
                  from eye of hare
                  Bolder die
                  Too nobly bear.

                  Comment


                  • #39
                    I want to eat
                    But alas, I'm beat
                    There's a seat
                    I think that's neat
                    That sounds good, I'll have that.

                    Comment


                    • #40
                      Originally posted by mcflytrap
                      I want to eat
                      But alas, I'm beat
                      There's a seat
                      I think that's neat


                      I can clearly see the influence of Blake in this one.
                      Reality is the original Rorschach.

                      Comment


                      • #41
                        Nocturnal Rainbow


                        In dusk
                        of motionless clouds and rainless skies, I watched love die
                        gasping.


                        How shall I revive my heart

                        Comment


                        • #42
                          Quite good, Zarriel, and welcome to HC.

                          Anyone want to discuss poetry? Influences? Structure and form?
                          Reality is the original Rorschach.

                          Comment


                          • #43
                            Monotonous Nocturne


                            night
                            heart ascertained
                            sleepless

                            in utter silence, seated solitude
                            lexes foliated
                            logic cogitated
                            hand and pen dialogued

                            in trance, the poet
                            seanced the spirits
                            chanted poems incomprehensible
                            words miscarried
                            died fetal deaths
                            under gestated
                            within vaginal rhymes

                            the poet watched his child -
                            cries, when sad
                            laugh, if happy
                            uncomplicated
                            how to express in totality such simple harmonies
                            (wisdom polluted his hellish soul)

                            living, a verse of love in teenage years
                            a sonnet of perspicacity in adulthood
                            a limerick of abandonment in mid-life

                            now, in evaporating maturity, beholding
                            his wife breastfeeding his child
                            the poet, alas, eulogizes his innocence
                            in a language that is pure

                            where as time constricts into nights
                            deeper, darker
                            more immense with each passing instant
                            the poet reflects upon
                            the asymmetrical shadows of his traitorous thoughts
                            to find his heart in equilibrium

                            gazing at a sheet of paper
                            that is blank


                            Zarriel

                            Comment


                            • #44
                              Experiments with basic French (if you speak French well, please help with grammar, etc...):

                              Vous parlez plus fort,
                              Mais je prefere tous les jours
                              Plus de vos vetements noirs.
                              C'est le dernier.
                              Il s'habille avec Eris,
                              Avec elle,
                              Une soeur que n'aime pas
                              Les Enfants que s'adorent.
                              Vous criez silencieusement,
                              Mais je prefere les vieux
                              Plus de vous, parce que vous dormez.
                              Reality is the original Rorschach.

                              Comment


                              • #45
                                More:

                                Les chapelure,
                                Je n'ai pas pas plus.
                                Nous sommes minuscule
                                En les yeux de tout le monde
                                Souf nous.
                                Tu vas avec tes cheveux;
                                Il te retent.
                                C'est un poids,
                                Une plume que te faire tombe.
                                Je n'appelle pas moins.
                                La barriere, c'est faible.
                                Reality is the original Rorschach.

                                Comment

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