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WoodsCall
own it


Registered: 12/06/04
Posts: 1,486
Loc: eye of the beerholder
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The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: aghorrorag]
#13770119 - 01/11/11 05:10 PM (13 years, 19 days ago) |
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crickets cry the circus train rolls away into a lake of pain
lick the fingers of a sungraced hand trace the path across the land
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Live free or die.
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thoughts
imagining.


Registered: 10/06/07
Posts: 16,816
Loc: here.
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Re: Hothouse blooms [Re: Sheeno]
#13782442 - 01/13/11 07:13 PM (13 years, 17 days ago) |
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Quote:
Sheeno said:
Quote:
iwasaClown said: Here's (another)one i wrote in jail.
Fear has taken captive every hope Strangled off the light with it's dark rope Uncertainty and doubt rise to the surface Malignant tribes of lies impose their service
Misery's grey hands sharpen an old dagger And slice off all the little things that matter In pools of red so drowns the living spirit A bitter sense of grief does love inherit.

Do you reckon you found greater creativity when in jail?
Thanks.
And YES. Jail is where i actually started writing. Having all the time in the world to get into myself is what really helped. No work, no bills, no distractions. It was the lowest point in my life, but i chose to make the best of it.
-------------------- I need Jesus.
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circastes
Big Questions Small Head


Registered: 01/14/10
Posts: 8,781
Loc: straya
Last seen: 7 years, 8 months
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Re: Hothouse blooms [Re: thoughts]
#13798083 - 01/16/11 05:39 PM (13 years, 14 days ago) |
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I was having a bit of fun the other night:
Quickly now, the night grew with filling foxholes, filling with the enemy of darkness, and piercing green eyes. Stronger, it flexed its muscles – behold, light's bane – the decay of the sun! Rotting in the solar system beyond sight, while the creatures of the night take heed to the cool black blanket. It is time for the reign of the supernal, of the beings of dusk and darkness. The sky has descended to Earth. The toothless wanderers; the spider-kind, the moth, the beetle – their jaws are clawed, hideous beings they are... and yet so perfect in their hideousness. From whence do they come? From the fountain of nature, which cares not for the subjects in its great dream. Merely springing forth the victims and the victors into a fray formed of day's decay. Mingling, matching, and some unmatched. Such a powerful disgrace. But alas, can't you see it is just my human eye contorting the picture? These creatures, spinning their webs, scurrying to and fro, ultimately are so sublime – almost impossible. Nature, the mother of the impossible plays with its figurines. And this night a tear drop falls from the edge of a leaf, to stream down the cheek of a precipice. How Nature loves to keep its subjects on edge! This play, this terrible, evil play, will spill over into a mammalian day, but these words are so human! The forest has its own language. It speaks in something far exquisite to the human tongue, and all in all, it has its fun. What can I say? I pray on my porch for the cry of day, but here I miss the sleeping beauty. What really happens out there? It's not mine to be sure, but it is of my essence, man is made but from clay. Slither me this! A bite of preposterous pain, all in vain, shrieks the cell in my vein. Wreaking havoc, reeking of bacterial pestilence, oh my, can't you see, I am divided the matter of Nature, it is such a mess, my guess, really, but what say THEE?
-------------------- My solitude... My shield... My armour... TESTED WITH FULL FORCE
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desiretoheal
Seeker


Registered: 08/16/09
Posts: 1,286
Loc: Here
Last seen: 11 years, 3 months
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A Lunar seeker, drifting away. Palm exposing, retracting divinities glow. Onward growing. Ludic faces casting out melodies from an approaching vessel. Warm air caressing cool colors, low tides refracting dim lights, watching own spirits guide celestial voice. Standing sea side. Love to share.
Stay with me here,
Suspending selves thorough Rheas’ care. Dissolving self-images
Nothing to bear.
Not one, not a soul, to displace us
Together weaving dreams, circumfusing the soul with demiurgical vision.
Standing sea side, rattling with life. Lifted out of this shell game which has held me captive long enough. Transposing with the outside, pouring in through every side. Infinitely stretched as gods return to trace us.
-------------------- If there were no rewards to reap,No loving embrace to see me through This tedious path I've chosen here,I certainly would've walked away by now. Gonna wait it out. If there were no desire to heal The damaged and broken met along This tedious path I've chosen hereI certainly would've walked away by now. And I still may ... (sigh) ... I still may.Be patient. I must keep reminding myself of this.
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desiretoheal
Seeker


Registered: 08/16/09
Posts: 1,286
Loc: Here
Last seen: 11 years, 3 months
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Congruent species within the gravitational prospector, titillating deepest within the oracles.
Schematics collapsed for a necessary relapse.
Opaque now diminished, translucence now begun.
Interarticular shadows emitting voices, reverberatory webs primordially ingested before given choices.
Evolutionary attainment to return to source.
The crescentic negations of self, now reduced to none, as transparency is brought forth expressing the inner artists gun.
-------------------- If there were no rewards to reap,No loving embrace to see me through This tedious path I've chosen here,I certainly would've walked away by now. Gonna wait it out. If there were no desire to heal The damaged and broken met along This tedious path I've chosen hereI certainly would've walked away by now. And I still may ... (sigh) ... I still may.Be patient. I must keep reminding myself of this.
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Crumpet
go sranger



Registered: 04/21/10
Posts: 1,082
Loc: Australia
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Lucy was in the kitchen with the air vent on full Jason the free mason came a running in with a candle in his hand every time the egg timer sounded Lucy would click her fingers and take another deep breath How in Krakatoa's name did this happen said jason I was playing mouse trap with our little Kattie and, and... And what? replied Lucy And. BAM! They were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the pressure cooker lid exploding off from across the room. Jason quickly shielded Lucy in his 20L pressure cooker covering embrace The next minute Kattie walked in to find two glass eyes and eye patch sitting in the bowl on her high chair.
-------------------- Ronda Nina...
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junkyardgod
A psychedelic mess.


Registered: 08/12/08
Posts: 443
Last seen: 1 year, 10 months
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Re: Hothouse blooms [Re: Crumpet]
#13838353 - 01/23/11 06:17 PM (13 years, 7 days ago) |
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intertwined
we came together in a crash where breaths were blasted away far beyond body’s reaching grasp to float aimless in the atmosphere suddenly you breathed right into me into lifeless lungs filled with ash i felt your lips so alive and free your tongue so wet and piercing twisting in you dove so deep till we tore apart like a lightning flash thunder roared but i didn’t look back to the strike of your beckoning voice mesmerizing, mighty and freezing conquering all of my fragile feelings all my heartache slowly fleeting to the moment i first saw you and i swear i turned to ice but your feverous eyes burned so bright melting all the moisture away infernos evaporating the messy fray and there i stood with mouth open wide recklessly loving you who intersects your path so tenderly onto mine loving so slow but sure to infect till the moment we intertwine
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junkyardgod
A psychedelic mess.


Registered: 08/12/08
Posts: 443
Last seen: 1 year, 10 months
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Quote:
circastes said: I was having a bit of fun the other night:
Quickly now, the night grew with filling foxholes, filling with the enemy of darkness, and piercing green eyes. Stronger, it flexed its muscles – behold, light's bane – the decay of the sun! Rotting in the solar system beyond sight, while the creatures of the night take heed to the cool black blanket. It is time for the reign of the supernal, of the beings of dusk and darkness. The sky has descended to Earth. The toothless wanderers; the spider-kind, the moth, the beetle – their jaws are clawed, hideous beings they are... and yet so perfect in their hideousness. From whence do they come? From the fountain of nature, which cares not for the subjects in its great dream. Merely springing forth the victims and the victors into a fray formed of day's decay. Mingling, matching, and some unmatched. Such a powerful disgrace. But alas, can't you see it is just my human eye contorting the picture? These creatures, spinning their webs, scurrying to and fro, ultimately are so sublime – almost impossible. Nature, the mother of the impossible plays with its figurines. And this night a tear drop falls from the edge of a leaf, to stream down the cheek of a precipice. How Nature loves to keep its subjects on edge! This play, this terrible, evil play, will spill over into a mammalian day, but these words are so human! The forest has its own language. It speaks in something far exquisite to the human tongue, and all in all, it has its fun. What can I say? I pray on my porch for the cry of day, but here I miss the sleeping beauty. What really happens out there? It's not mine to be sure, but it is of my essence, man is made but from clay. Slither me this! A bite of preposterous pain, all in vain, shrieks the cell in my vein. Wreaking havoc, reeking of bacterial pestilence, oh my, can't you see, I am divided the matter of Nature, it is such a mess, my guess, really, but what say THEE?
That's fucking beautiful man. Delicious writing!
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timelapses
Life in free form



Registered: 01/26/11
Posts: 4,600
Loc: in a shroomery prison
Last seen: 7 years, 4 months
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Trivial, life is trivial. A question begs for an answer. But no no one can answer the questions I seek. Failure and damnation, Everyone is hesitant to speak. I seek a new beginning, one that will lead me away, from a gray world filled with death and decay. I hate this world and wish it would end, time stands still while we all pretend. Nature's universe. Hope is a angle filled with a quandry. Love and protect while death fills me. Alive and well but the time will come, when i'm dead and buried and find the existence that will come.
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CarnivalBarker
wizard


Registered: 04/19/10
Posts: 2,668
Last seen: 11 years, 2 months
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These are some of the first song lyrics (maybe) that I've ever attempted to write. Usually I write music to a singer's lyrics and melodies, so I have no idea if this is any good. I wrote it all in one go, probably need to change rhythm and # lines and thangs. What do you all think?
A ghost wind licks the lighter's flame You shivered by the river But I, I never felt a thing
I don't even know What Love is I thought you'd show me Won't ever be free And your gypsy eyes Look like infinity
So I drink into the night You don't bother me at all Inhale, exhale It don't bother me at all Nothing can bother me at all
?
Edited by CarnivalBarker (01/27/11 08:06 PM)
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circastes
Big Questions Small Head


Registered: 01/14/10
Posts: 8,781
Loc: straya
Last seen: 7 years, 8 months
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Quote:
junkyardgod said:
Quote:
circastes said: I was having a bit of fun the other night:
Quickly now, the night grew with filling foxholes, filling with the enemy of darkness, and piercing green eyes. Stronger, it flexed its muscles – behold, light's bane – the decay of the sun! Rotting in the solar system beyond sight, while the creatures of the night take heed to the cool black blanket. It is time for the reign of the supernal, of the beings of dusk and darkness. The sky has descended to Earth. The toothless wanderers; the spider-kind, the moth, the beetle – their jaws are clawed, hideous beings they are... and yet so perfect in their hideousness. From whence do they come? From the fountain of nature, which cares not for the subjects in its great dream. Merely springing forth the victims and the victors into a fray formed of day's decay. Mingling, matching, and some unmatched. Such a powerful disgrace. But alas, can't you see it is just my human eye contorting the picture? These creatures, spinning their webs, scurrying to and fro, ultimately are so sublime – almost impossible. Nature, the mother of the impossible plays with its figurines. And this night a tear drop falls from the edge of a leaf, to stream down the cheek of a precipice. How Nature loves to keep its subjects on edge! This play, this terrible, evil play, will spill over into a mammalian day, but these words are so human! The forest has its own language. It speaks in something far exquisite to the human tongue, and all in all, it has its fun. What can I say? I pray on my porch for the cry of day, but here I miss the sleeping beauty. What really happens out there? It's not mine to be sure, but it is of my essence, man is made but from clay. Slither me this! A bite of preposterous pain, all in vain, shrieks the cell in my vein. Wreaking havoc, reeking of bacterial pestilence, oh my, can't you see, I am divided the matter of Nature, it is such a mess, my guess, really, but what say THEE?
That's fucking beautiful man. Delicious writing!
Thanks dude! I love it when I get good feedback like that. 
Sometimes I think I could do better if I went back over it and fixed the structure up, but it feels fradulent then, like there's no flow or life to correcting mistakes as there is to writing the whole thing at once.
-------------------- My solitude... My shield... My armour... TESTED WITH FULL FORCE
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CidneyIndole
www.shroomery.OG



Registered: 05/16/05
Posts: 4,761
Loc: Love's Secret Domain
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Re: Hothouse blooms [Re: circastes]
#13879839 - 01/31/11 12:07 AM (13 years, 11 hours ago) |
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It's almost 2 AM. I'm sitting here. Just sick of stressing. I'm alone in my own room cause I can't seem to learn my lesson. "It's not fair!" I yell at no one there, though wishing someone heard. But seeing how its futile, I should stifle every word.
And all along I keep forgetting one important fact.
The memories I hold so tight can only hold me back.
-------------------- ------------------------ I am me. We are You.
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timelapses
Life in free form



Registered: 01/26/11
Posts: 4,600
Loc: in a shroomery prison
Last seen: 7 years, 4 months
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Quote:
CidneyIndole said: It's almost 2 AM. I'm sitting here. Just sick of stressing. I'm alone in my own room cause I can't seem to learn my lesson. "It's not fair!" I yell at no one there, though wishing someone heard. But seeing how its futile, I should stifle every word.
And all along I keep forgetting one important fact.
The memories I hold so tight can only hold me back.
I love the last sentence. Simple truth.
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junkyardgod
A psychedelic mess.


Registered: 08/12/08
Posts: 443
Last seen: 1 year, 10 months
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Quote:
CidneyIndole said: It's almost 2 AM. I'm sitting here. Just sick of stressing. I'm alone in my own room cause I can't seem to learn my lesson. "It's not fair!" I yell at no one there, though wishing someone heard. But seeing how its futile, I should stifle every word.
And all along I keep forgetting one important fact.
The memories I hold so tight can only hold me back.
Ahhh, this resounds within me...I feel it. Good stuff man.
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CidneyIndole
www.shroomery.OG



Registered: 05/16/05
Posts: 4,761
Loc: Love's Secret Domain
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You sidle up against my side, Like never-really-meant-to-be And serpent-tongued, My siren sung, ‘till hollow hung my head
On memory’s still sepulchre Broke bones of weary rest to dust Vestigial hearts Now beat apart And never know another.
-------------------- ------------------------ I am me. We are You.
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CidneyIndole
www.shroomery.OG



Registered: 05/16/05
Posts: 4,761
Loc: Love's Secret Domain
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All the works in this thread (by me, of course, lol) were written the day they were posted, usually unedited. The first one I put here was actually meant for the "freestyle" thread in the pub. haha. But it seemed a little too deep for over there. (Seems a little shallow for over here, though.)
I'm almost surprised I didn't get a comment on that last one. Some of my work I like, some I don't. Looking at that one again, there are some elements I like...
My poetry tends to be very short and unconventional.
I like using weird/tight rhyme/meter.
I like to play with words.
Sometimes I use little to no form.
One of the things I really like about poetry as an art is just how free it is. The most free, of the literary arts.
-------------------- ------------------------ I am me. We are You.
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CidneyIndole
www.shroomery.OG



Registered: 05/16/05
Posts: 4,761
Loc: Love's Secret Domain
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This is just something short I was playing with in my head while I was cleaning...
I got your box of macaroni. But eating out on KY Jelly was never quite the same with you away. Despite the many incidents and flavors of today. And even though you kinda used me-- Saw right through you saw right to me it was never quite the same with you away. Despite the many elements that all come into play.
(finished? haha)
-------------------- ------------------------ I am me. We are You.
Edited by CidneyIndole (02/21/11 12:40 AM)
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Middleman

Registered: 07/11/99
Posts: 8,399
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: aghorrorag]
#13999166 - 02/21/11 12:45 AM (12 years, 11 months ago) |
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This turned out to be a good thread.
Positions of the planets in the sidereal zodiac on 1/1/11:
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DogDancing
Feeling reasonably decent



Registered: 03/20/08
Posts: 427
Last seen: 2 years, 2 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Middleman]
#14011538 - 02/23/11 01:19 AM (12 years, 11 months ago) |
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Sundown
I am from soil, farm country, and the outskirts of towns. dust and dirt are plentiful. My nostrils are black and feel terrible, itching and scratching now its almost bearable.
I am from sunshine, and plum trees, from garden spiders, blowing in the breeze. I am from the paint on my walls, To the white flying gulls.
I am from experiments, made by the governments. I am from liberty, But feel I still need clarity.
I am from defiance, From truth, and also science. I am from pastures where horses roam, I am from a loving home.
I am from death, I feel my last breath.
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CidneyIndole
www.shroomery.OG



Registered: 05/16/05
Posts: 4,761
Loc: Love's Secret Domain
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: DogDancing]
#14012059 - 02/23/11 05:51 AM (12 years, 11 months ago) |
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Quote:
DogDancing said: Sundown
I am from soil, farm country, and the outskirts of towns. dust and dirt are plentiful. My nostrils are black and feel terrible, itching and scratching now its almost bearable.
I am from sunshine, and plum trees, from garden spiders, blowing in the breeze. I am from the paint on my walls, To the white flying gulls.
I am from experiments, made by the governments. I am from liberty, But feel I still need clarity.
I am from defiance, From truth, and also science. I am from pastures where horses roam, I am from a loving home.
I am from death, I feel my last breath.
Hm, there is something about this I like.
-------------------- ------------------------ I am me. We are You.
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