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OfflineDesert Elf


Registered: 08/23/11
Posts: 765
Last seen: 10 years, 5 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: aghorrorag]
    #15076553 - 09/14/11 04:40 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

Let us raise up our glasses "gān bēi!", "salut!!", "cheers!!!"
A toast to the great apes with all their ideas.
Torture our minds with illusory fears.
Get primative after a couple of beers.
Return like lost ducklings to that valley of tears.
Too shy to get naked, without fingers in ears.
Let fortunate souls keep changing the gears.
Work faster and faster please, you're in arrears.
We're ignorant soldiers, we're outcasts, we're queers.
We're riding in taxis and fishing from piers.
Building some Tescos, not far from Ikeas.
And we are the wizards, and we are the seers.
We're bloody great apes, with a wealth of ideas.
Expecting a future that never appears.



Something I wrote a while back. For anyone who thinks the rhyme and cadence are passe....... you are right man... right on.


--------------------
Om Bhur Bhuvah Svaha
Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi
Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat


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OfflineDesert Elf


Registered: 08/23/11
Posts: 765
Last seen: 10 years, 5 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Desert Elf]
    #15076560 - 09/14/11 04:42 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

About an Egg.

He sat on the wall. Looking at both sides, all the people, always wondering which side he could trust to catch him.
He didnt think climbing down was an option. Silly bastard jumped one day. Nobody caught him. His insides were out. No chance people were gonna fix this aweful mess. Not even 120 men could. Fuck, they could not spare the time nor effort on this singular event.
"Oh well," they said.
"Just another egg that failed to hatch."
The question is; what was he doing on the wall in the first place? It was clear he didnt know how to get down. It was also clear he was only an egg. How did the egg get on the wall? I can see no way he got their on his own. He was set upon the wall. The guilty party never got a mention. The rest of the people involved may be guilty of negligence. Though it would have been quite simple to say,
"oh, but i hadn't noticed him."
Would anyone have noticed an egg on a wall? Because, if they had they would have been obliged to call it to everyone's attention. Perhaps they could have safely taken him from this dangerous perch and assisted his incubation.
In an ideal world, of course.


--------------------
Om Bhur Bhuvah Svaha
Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi
Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat


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OfflineDesert Elf


Registered: 08/23/11
Posts: 765
Last seen: 10 years, 5 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Desert Elf]
    #15076564 - 09/14/11 04:43 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

Remember the basic instructions.
There was a procedure for waking up.
Before the charicature that you so adamantly accept as your self told you to moor in this bleak, murky water.
And now you believe there are no more tunnels.
You fancy yourself a cartoon amongst cartoon objects.
That refridgerator has an instruction manual you never read.
It matters hardly. You are twenty-first century.You have seen it all before.
So are you sure then that the cold is staying in and the dial is synchronised for the time of day?
This is the product of my thinking.
Nothing else. Why would I share this?
Do you remember how to say Hello.
When to say hello, or rather, excuse me.
Then what. How are you?
Then what. Fine thanks, you?
Then what, the list is endless, but is the list necessary.
Is it for enjoyment, and if so, is it enjoyable?
Is there a higher motivation, and if so, do you fancy your chances?
If the conversation is to be enjoyed, then maybe some physical contact would also.
And the next time some friendly, enjoyable physical contact will preceed some friendly enjoyable conversation.
Thus, the link in the story is kept fresh.
But let that thought perish.
What if looks can kill.  Perhaps a clandestine meeting in disguise and free from eyes.
No this just wont do.
Those days are dead. This is not a mess if you keep it together. Let that perish.
It is only a mess because you are looking at some imagined potential.
Can you converse with the mess.
Is there a beast in the corner of your room gesturing at you with it's tongue.
If you are moored for long enough, things start popping up around you.
Is this the mess where you moor? Or is it the reflection of the rolling current.
Does your true nature elude you in the wake of karma?
Or does it simply elude you?
Your true nature is always on display. So awareness can only help the situation.
Maybe the hello was not in order.
For that, you will never get to the bottom of an apology.
So why bother, other than for what is truly necessary.
Do you suppose to know what that is?
Return to the fluidity of your indifferent disposition.
Then everyone else can tear down the rest.


--------------------
Om Bhur Bhuvah Svaha
Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi
Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat


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InvisibleRebel_At_War
REBEL
Female


Registered: 01/14/11
Posts: 785
Loc: Wherever the wind blows
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Desert Elf]
    #15076569 - 09/14/11 04:45 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

Human beings...
Always SEEKING to fill whatever is already FULL..
Acquire, fix, gain, fill, complete, finish, achieve..
Our minds, our thoughts, OUR EGO'S,
is nothing but a all a welltrained extension of insecurity...
Ever seeking to solve problems that doesnt really exist..
It only exists as a phantom..
Like a giant spot on our spirituality..
Its kinda like a dog chasing its tail forever...


--------------------
The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives his life to the fullest is prepared to die at any time...





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OfflineDesert Elf


Registered: 08/23/11
Posts: 765
Last seen: 10 years, 5 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Desert Elf]
    #15076579 - 09/14/11 04:49 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

Three and Four Whole Years Apart.

I cannot recall for the life of me,
Lunchtime spent with family.
The playground must have been so vast.
Those hours must have gone so fast.

I do remember daily aches.
There was something in the water.
Some had juice and chocolate cakes.
There was something in the water.

And when they got them on the speed,
I think I prayed, I hope this helps.
To stop the beltings, and indeed,
accompanying yelps.

I do recall naming you slut!
It wasn't from the heart.
Filled with shame and nothing but,
It wasn't from the heart.

And on the day we were divided.
I thought I could pull strings.
The plan was too one sided
and was missing certain things.

I remember halloween, the mess.
I knew we were in strife.
And you got so agressive that I tried to take my life.

And when the house burned to the ground,
we found a new rapport.
But never would I "impregnate"
my first kiss from next door.

I think back to the day you left
She crushed you with a bike.
You got to go and live with that old lady that we liked.

I remember washing windows.
Two bucks fifty. Pie and Coke.
we spent time with my father,
an honest working bloke.

And when she booked our exit,
from the beach out to the cold.
I stated my objections
and we did as we were told.


--------------------
Om Bhur Bhuvah Svaha
Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi
Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat


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InvisibleRebel_At_War
REBEL
Female


Registered: 01/14/11
Posts: 785
Loc: Wherever the wind blows
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Rebel_At_War]
    #15076580 - 09/14/11 04:49 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

My heart is silently whispering: Keep ure friends n loved ones close,
Dare to talk, feel, express yourselfe, Its not worth it loosing your soul..
Live life like theres no tomorro.. Its not worth spending life all alone..
Cause one day its all gone and u cant carry on,
knowing ure all on your own..

Meanwhile my mind keeps saying: You dont know what its about,
Dont trust, feel or express yourselfe, they'll hurt you without a doubt!
You only live once, so dont wait for the next man or gyal to help you out,
Cause talk is cheap, only action speaks,
All the rest i'd do better without...

By now my conciousness is screaming: Please just set me free!
You should seek, learn, ask, speak, find out where your meant to be!
Life is a game of russian roulette, u eighter die or succeed,
Have selfcontrol and nourish your soul,
or else you will never ever find peace....


--------------------
The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives his life to the fullest is prepared to die at any time...





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Offlinetwixbar
Stranger
Registered: 05/30/11
Posts: 10
Last seen: 11 years, 10 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Rebel_At_War]
    #15095382 - 09/18/11 11:10 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

I love a good Haiku simple and sweet.


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Offlinebreatheintheair
lost and found


Registered: 06/08/10
Posts: 20
Loc: Flag
Last seen: 10 years, 10 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: twixbar]
    #15095499 - 09/18/11 11:46 AM (12 years, 4 months ago)

Time to go.

numb from the cold,
stuck out on the dock
with my heart strung out like a fishing line

im here
but stuck in a thought
wrapped up around you waiting for the time

when the wrecking ball will come
and smash our building to pieces.
letting the ashes come crumbling
it swings back and forth just to tease us.

and when there is nothing left,
but the rubble and the fire

will you stay?
will you stay?
will you stay?

will you help me build a new foundation?
will you help me clean this mess we have created?
we've created a mess of this,
worst of all when our lips kiss
the bodies buried beneath flash and fade away.

will you help me recover?
from the rubble and the fire.
or is it,
your time to go?

ill be here waiting
making sense of why you stayed for so long
and how
we can't let go.

people screaming,
their hearts are burning from the wrecking ball.

it's time to go,
but will you stay?
it's time to go,
but will you stay?
it's time to go.


--------------------


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Invisiblemoonrockmushy
High on Spite
 User Gallery

Registered: 07/01/05
Posts: 19,067
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: breatheintheair]
    #15124557 - 09/23/11 07:35 PM (12 years, 4 months ago)

untitled

men are stepping in a line.
heart is beating throat is dry.
veins are steel with blood inside.
it all feels wrong but told it's right.

Back at home - the fruit is ready on the vine
I hope they'll know - where I'm buried when I die


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OfflineNoobCybot
Stranger
Male


Registered: 08/17/11
Posts: 56
Loc: Fight City USA Flag
Last seen: 10 years, 1 month
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: moonrockmushy]
    #15205818 - 10/10/11 03:01 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

consequences so steep
blinding truth and all reason
to sleep 6 feet deep
to purge the season

drowned in his guts
eat the pain and fear
our mouths sown shut
throats slit ear to ear

blood red sky's
rain hate and fear
first in line to die
just to leave here.

Noob


--------------------
All information given and gathered is for theoretical and hypothetical discussion. Believe nothing. Question everything.

NoobCybot
:grin: Help secure the future of your favorite psilocybe cubensis strains and spread some spores. Willing to trade for almost any strain!:grin:

My Trade List


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Invisiblecateyes
 User Gallery

Registered: 12/16/03
Posts: 2,754
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: NoobCybot]
    #15208440 - 10/11/11 06:20 AM (12 years, 3 months ago)

i was going through some of my old journals and came across this... i wrote it right around the same time i was formally diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder eight years ago... i realize it's really not classic poetry in the sense of rhyme and meter, but it's my style...

i hope someone can appreciate this...

i'm in the process of trying to understand consciousness as the foundation of our human experience and the reality that is perceived... there is no ghost in the atom... more so, the atom is a creation of our mind... consciousness creates reality... i want to test the limits of perception, to move beyond the constructs that restrict existential possibilities... i've learned it is indeed the logic that can trip us over, the pervasive thoughts that create our prison... real truth lies in the depths of the heart... it is time to abandon this reality that has obscured what is real and what is not... I am not sure about the future of this world, but I trust that the world that I see is changing shape and that a new personal capacity for love, joy and truth will soon be revealed... i guess i am trying to transcend my outdated mind state, trying to overthrow all those rules and regulations that society has placed on me, trying to see the light amongst the shadows...

Kensho :psychsplit:


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Invisibleeckhem

Registered: 02/02/10
Posts: 677
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: cateyes]
    #15209575 - 10/11/11 12:16 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

Quote:

cateyes said:
i'm in the process of trying to understand consciousness as the foundation of our human experience and the reality that is perceived... there is no ghost in the atom... more so, the atom is a creation of our mind... consciousness creates reality... i want to test the limits of perception, to move beyond the constructs that restrict existential possibilities... i've learned it is indeed the logic that can trip us over, the pervasive thoughts that create our prison... real truth lies in the depths of the heart... it is time to abandon this reality that has obscured what is real and what is not... I am not sure about the future of this world, but I trust that the world that I see is changing shape and that a new personal capacity for love, joy and truth will soon be revealed... i guess i am trying to transcend my outdated mind state, trying to overthrow all those rules and regulations that society has placed on me, trying to see the light amongst the shadows...





I appreciate this, and I relate to it.  Profound meaning without clumsy metaphors to misinterpret.  I like it :thumbup:


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InvisibleCrumpet
go sranger
Male User Gallery


Registered: 04/21/10
Posts: 1,082
Loc: Australia Flag
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: eckhem]
    #15209638 - 10/11/11 12:32 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

bouncing back my itchy finger lighters
biccering about a bounty in ruin im as hyped az
telligrams of gramps grams offered of too hop on off of
pitched wide pidgion sitting still, silled, a kip can kill em
Quote a sleuth soothsaying ensilage "steap pull"
definite juxtapose to iron eyed on village people



Its a soul ishu
steamed beans inner tissue
I T being thy form of prion
Iron Eyed On

AB


--------------------
Ronda Nina...


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InvisibleCrumpet
go sranger
Male User Gallery


Registered: 04/21/10
Posts: 1,082
Loc: Australia Flag
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Crumpet]
    #15209652 - 10/11/11 12:35 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

            BP
The leaders in fuel industry


--------------------
Ronda Nina...


Edited by Crumpet (11/27/11 11:23 PM)


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OfflineBeautyMachine
Purpose is lived
Male


Registered: 10/04/11
Posts: 174
Last seen: 11 years, 3 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Crumpet]
    #15248096 - 10/19/11 04:09 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

stop thinking start writing
start typing no blighting

the lighting in here is dark and not shining
but there are little mushrooms smiling
and creating the smallest glow
around their fine glimmer
the circle things around the stem
phallic messengers, little friends

In an exalted position
below god
asking angels for permission
to relieve the burden
crowing away
at the catholic mission

taking that wagon full of bricks
and hoisting it fur wards
into the abyss on my shoulders
sucked into the black hole above my shoulders
It goes into infinity

and sometimes it stays on the borders
hoarded by my fucking mind hoarders

and it's curious how many times
I don't notice myself blinking
subconscious clockwork
underwater thinking

How many things slip through the filter
How little comes through the channel
the passageway

the energy searing out the top of the head
is the spirit, the soul, when it's gone
body is dead

and I fled from death
but death found me
and poetry (incandescent label)
still speaks here for me.

that's how I became a zombie

now fetch me some brains slave monkey tamed brainless fucked dames.
fetch me some wenches and brandy and beer
and weed and lsd
you fucking queers

and music


--------------------


"Personally, I belief in The holy Cornholio. Of his latter name. Our jesus baby. A MEN"


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OfflineBeautyMachine
Purpose is lived
Male


Registered: 10/04/11
Posts: 174
Last seen: 11 years, 3 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: BeautyMachine]
    #15248107 - 10/19/11 04:10 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

^ wrote that one sober

wrote this one high:

It was downed by a helicopter
shot down by fire demons
flying through the innersphere
above my head at the time
looking upwards, in the direction of escape
and the jungle surrounding
gunshots in the distance
and an overwhelming sense of amnesia
amongst the ruins
and fire demons
flying through the outer sphere
cutting the air as they pass
grimacing and cracking their whips
and they laugh and cry with amusement
when they look at this scorched earth
and the conflagration
that arose to meet the night sky
the purity contained in the bruises

as i look up in the direction of escape
an overwhelming warmth
overtakes the extremities


--------------------


"Personally, I belief in The holy Cornholio. Of his latter name. Our jesus baby. A MEN"


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Offlineveryhoudini
Stranger

Registered: 08/18/11
Posts: 71
Last seen: 11 years, 9 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: BeautyMachine]
    #15248306 - 10/19/11 05:01 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

I wrote this about 3 years ago. Maybe some of you will enjoy it.  I don't write poetry that rhymes usually, and even if i do they are still in some context of a short story.  this is suppose to be a drug induced dream, influenced by a real drug induced, but slightly different, dream.  the characters are some of my friends, yet i used aliases/nicknames with some of them, like lucifer or whatever.



open to possibilities

I feel like diesel oil in this rest.  Smoke and layers of black paint blind me.  The opium must have kicked in.  I wonder if my nose is still bleeding immiscible colors of crimson and white.  Slowly the aerosol scatters and the paint illuminates. Light begins to enter my vision and it creates an image.  There I am.....

A circle of animated cadavers sitting around a bonfire.  I believe there are five of us.  I feel like a native waiting to see what hides in these flames, like the Don Juan of the group.  Lucifer, who is sitting to the right of me, says out loud to everyone "sometimes the dead don't stay dead.  in this unholy situation you must detatch the head from where it rests."  A black cat states "a fruit cellar is a wonderful place to perform this deed."  I remember a fact I learned as a child and reply to the feline "yes stranger, blood fertilizes fruit very well.  but i want to know what images you all are seeing in this fire."
The black cat sees rain.
Lucifer sees white.
I see tiny paintings of a girl I love dancing together.  The colors of green and purple.
As I stare fixated, the flames suddenly dance away and crawl onto Dane who has been sitting across from me this whole time.  He jumps up in a fit of extreme pain and screams "Play Dead, Everyone!"

There was no need to play.


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Offlineveryhoudini
Stranger

Registered: 08/18/11
Posts: 71
Last seen: 11 years, 9 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: veryhoudini]
    #15248324 - 10/19/11 05:07 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

Expell Blue Bombshells.....

....Indwell in motel pastel, as the understanding of comfort befells and finds you.  Feelings of westbound blues, and the botch I misdo, gave you feelings of being see-through, almost a ghost on the coast of the bijou bayou.  I learned from her circles, that you are a circle sway, and everything I say heads straight out the shipway to a rocky display of drunken dismay.  I'm afraid I can't continue this way although I know if the world becomes a storm, the sea and wreckage will conform, and blow up north to again travel west.  Yet, I'm up to my neck in you, ghost of my bayou, with eyes of jewels. 
Alas, hereto you and the painting we have skewed. 
Alas, wineglass tips to bluegrass hearts, while comfort befells and finds you well. 
I thought you stars above my town, yet I found we are all around, exceeding speeds of light and sound.  Astroboy and Angel in flower gowns.  Expell blue bombshells.

Spaceman crash lands on clouds of Ellann.
Remind yourself: Exhale fox tail.

Spaceman, kiss sweetly, Ellann, and show her this life was never deadpan.
Remind yourself: Inhale ringtail.

I want to sing that rock and roll ballad with only smoke rings and pure absense of everything else.


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Offlineveryhoudini
Stranger

Registered: 08/18/11
Posts: 71
Last seen: 11 years, 9 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: veryhoudini]
    #15248330 - 10/19/11 05:08 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

i’ll miss my severed hands



In a million years I will never feel solace like I did this night. Not with the strongest high; my best fuck; or in my grave.
Only here:
laying on white sand, staring up to three moons, starring in the great sky. Each one being my only connection to true light on this dark coast. That warmth of the sun projected onto me; rays of MDMA.

I prefer it this way.  An absense of everything that once seemed important, including me.  Because all I can see are the three faces of my satellites, reflecting;
off the sand, the sea, my skin, and everything else.

There's only three hours until sunrise.  Will I fade like twilight?


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Offlineveryhoudini
Stranger

Registered: 08/18/11
Posts: 71
Last seen: 11 years, 9 months
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: veryhoudini]
    #15248333 - 10/19/11 05:08 PM (12 years, 3 months ago)

I Thought About You

I've spent nineteen hours waiting here for an escape from earth.  My projection to space. Something that at one time seemed so promising, but the longer i stand here on this dirt road, the more distant we become.

In fact I've never seen the stars look so dim as they do tonight; as they do in my eyes right now.  Two years ago, this same astral plane seemed so much more meaningful to me.  The collection of gasses, dust and waste inspired a mind set of endless possibilities.  It supported and nodded my happy bobble head.

However as I learned: everyone breaks and everything leaves.  Even on this dirt road 40 miles from the dirt city, I still see how this assumption is correct.  I'm broken down during the process of leaving when I just need to go out of existence or just down the road forever.


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