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OfflineDoe Eyed
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Registered: 04/14/09
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal]
    #12314469 - 04/01/10 10:28 PM (10 years, 4 months ago)

i really like your poem hajnal


--------------------
:egyptian:
"Now then it is no more I that do it; but the sin that dwelleth in me."


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Invisibleeckhem


Registered: 02/02/10
Posts: 677
Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Doe Eyed]
    #12319421 - 04/02/10 08:01 PM (10 years, 4 months ago)

wrote this just now... its an idea ive kinda had for a while now
about a church whose congregation has their faith shattered (by an abusing pastor) and is left with nothing to live for (without a god)
and how we need to live life without the use of chaining ourselves down
making ourselves feel comfortable with shaky ideas
just because we fear the universe being greater than ourselves; humanity

---
The Pulpit

Amidst the congregation
a murmur reached
all the farther
each passing minute
their Father neglected
the pulpit

Questions arose
answered with accusations
of blasphemy
as their faith
stood shaking behind
the pulpit

He was drunk
as the child cried
and the people rose
but no one to
the pulpit

A shattered faith
leaves nothing left;
to live for
nothing would
be a tragedy
if your only answer
need be represented at
a pulpit


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OfflineSimms
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: eckhem]
    #12322304 - 04/03/10 10:56 AM (10 years, 4 months ago)

..,,
..,,
....
.......
..,,
..,,
:


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Simms]
    #12326731 - 04/04/10 01:50 AM (10 years, 4 months ago)

Quote:

Simms said:
..,,
..,,
....
.......
..,,
..,,
:



I'll only allow this as being a viable post if you were extremely intoxicated. yesno?


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Doe Eyed]
    #12326825 - 04/04/10 02:13 AM (10 years, 4 months ago)

Thank you :smile: May I ask what it is that hits you? It's hard to to get an outside perspective sometimes, or what it means to you?


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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OfflineSimms
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal] * 1
    #12327665 - 04/04/10 09:56 AM (10 years, 4 months ago)

Quote:

Hajnal said:
Quote:

Simms said:
..,,
..,,
....
.......
..,,
..,,
:



I'll only allow this as being a viable post if you were extremely intoxicated. yesno?





No, I was not toxicated. This is a form of poetry.

It means nothing. But patterns can be viewed as a form of poetry, therefore poetry can be seen in things, numbers, etc. There are actually books filled with this kind of poetry.


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


Edited by Simms (04/04/10 09:59 AM)


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Simms]
    #12327688 - 04/04/10 10:04 AM (10 years, 4 months ago)

Actually, I'll accept that answer as well, and agree with you. I hadn't even thought of that last night, hah. In fact I could go on for days on how true that is.. Synaesthesia is love <3


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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OfflineDoe Eyed
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal]
    #12337393 - 04/05/10 08:09 PM (10 years, 4 months ago)

hajnal-this is the poem that i really liked:

Blindside Warning Bell

A mistress lay broken, next to the soul that was left behind; the self destructive metaphor sung truth, though your ears were too clouded by your own beautiful, yet detrimental actions, that ultimately brought upon your own downfall. All the songs in the skies couldn’t have saved you, in fact they dug your grave. You cried as well as I; being lost was never ours to share in serenity. Despite warning you continued; graced with despair, burdened with love, though too blindsided by your own empathetic gift did you seek to fill the empty pool of heart and soul with spikes and bones in masquerade.. You are free now, pride and chaos reign within The Temple of The Sacred BrokenHeart.
by hajnal

i love your language in your poem
like here: "though too blindsided by your own empathetic gift did you seek"
you don't stick to complete sentences or standard sentence/gramatical structure
i love the topic of this too-its something i can imagine and feel and even relate to in certain ways
you also started it off really strong: "A mistress lay broken, next to the soul that was left behind"
i think thats beautiful


--------------------
:egyptian:
"Now then it is no more I that do it; but the sin that dwelleth in me."


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Doe Eyed]
    #12342917 - 04/06/10 05:04 PM (10 years, 4 months ago)

If you're interested, I sent a PM somewhat regarding the topic; I don't want to derail the thread any more than I have haha.


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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OfflineCalvin
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal]
    #12356597 - 04/08/10 07:00 PM (10 years, 4 months ago)

"Pink Dandelion"

Utter disconnection
reality was of course known to be pointless
but this other consciousness which showed promise
seems to be but an illusion
so many troubled young minds
confused and alone only further outcasting potential comradery
is it selfish to consider a dandelion for a rose
if the dandelion is a shade of red
in a sea of yellow
or does its very nature prohibit higher thought
its simply bleeding and bleeding
but this is nothing extraordinary
nothing that would amuse the sun
nothing that would stir a number two pencil
just a flower aware of its singularity
unable to change its exterior
changing slightly to pink
soon to be a blank sheet of paper


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Invisiblenowwhoutthink
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Calvin]
    #12386552 - 04/13/10 06:52 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

ha...do not keep a lot of your poems and writings on computer ....

theyll crash and lose it allha.

i learned..pen and paper always ha


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: nowwhoutthink]
    #12388647 - 04/13/10 11:50 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

1. That's what the internet is for :smile:

2. Boards of Canada are the shit. Geogaddi is still one of the best albums for taking a journey through. I haven't experimented using it with anything other than DXM though.

3. I don't know what everyone's definition of poetry is, but this fits in my own definition.

Love's Enigma

This war is far from over I hope you know; I can feel you and your soul without you even by my side.
...
That never changed.
My emotions are tied with yours; our emotional fluctuations are synchronized, our universes became intertwined that fateful day when our eyes met for the first time. We're apart of a vivid story called reality; a story that throws us chaos and despair at any given opportune moment, though that is only because we chose to side with the darkness.

Why?

We have our reasons; though the situation may be different our goals were the same. Prosperity. We've become demons of our own worlds.. but we love every fucking second of it. Sadly, over time we discovered that insanity and knowledge, despite being everything we learned to love, would be our downfall as much as we would like to have thought otherwise.
Now we are trapped in a world of information and our third eye prominent. We just want to be happy. We just want to love. We just want to be; be the way we were meant to be.
..But, in order for a demon to become humble once again, they must be destroyed at the very core and lose absolutely everything they could ever hope to gain from their life. But when one is broken at their very core, what is left but a void? Life becomes a wild card, and is what the perceiver makes of it. The demon can either revel in his or her pain and sink to the depths of existence and descend into the depths of insanity, knowledge, chaos, and apathy, or ascend into the light and learn to love again through sanity, knowledge, unity, and empathy. Words cannot describe how tempting and alluring the depths of insanity can be at this point in time, but I have not given up hope.
I would be a liar if I were to say that hope was not lost from time to time, but such things are natural when walking down such a path of life. I have faith that my reality will not turn out to be a tragedy, nor will her own. Love is a powerful energy, for even when entangled in the darkness, it does nothing but grow, grow, and grow; whether it be in the form of pleasure, pain, sorrow, joy.. it does nothing but keep us wanting more. I love you. I know you're reading this, and whatever stage you're at, I have faith that in the end our ends will meet, and we will become those perfect circles entwined, just as we first believed.


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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OfflineHajnal
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal]
    #12401676 - 04/16/10 03:39 AM (10 years, 3 months ago)

I just did this literally 20 seconds ago and I thought it was pretty neat.. I literally started off with one word and wrote down the first word that popped into my mind relating to that word, then the next word relating to the previous word and so on and so forth.. this is what I came up with in roughly 30 seconds. I thought it was pretty interesting..

" life death pain hate sadness happiness sorrow flowing wildly freely splashing across borders of consciousness breathing laughing living meaning everything intertwined.. rotating spinning madly yet cautiously step step weave a carpet out of tears and fears fight the rain drain the mind build anew stray away come hither.. constructive chaos."

:wink:


--------------------
Hajnal ['hɒjnɒl] - An elegant mixture of blood and circuitry; sorrow and love fill your systems, like the stars and black holes encompass the ∞.


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Offlinedillweed4
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Hajnal]
    #12478159 - 04/29/10 05:03 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Here's one I wrote... its a little random and quite long but whatever:

once on a yellow piece of paper,
he wrote a poem
and he called it "chops"
because that was the name of his dog.
and that's what it was about
and his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
and his mother hung it on he door
and read it to his aunts
that was the year father tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
and let them sing on the bus
that was the year his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
and his mother and father kissed a lot
and the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of x's
and he had to ask his father what the x's meant
and his father always tucked him in at night
and was always there to do it
once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem called "autumn"
because that was the name of the season
snd that's what it was all about
and his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
and the kids told him
that father tracy smoked cigars
and left butts on the pews
and sometimes they would burn holes
that was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
and the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see santa claus
and the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
and his father never tucked him in at night
and got mad
when he cried for him to do it
once on a piece of paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
called "innocence; a question"
because that was the question about his girl
and that's what is was all about
and his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
becaue he never showed her
that was the year that father tracy died
and he forgot how the end
of apostle's creed went
and he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
and his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
and the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
that made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
and at three a.m he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
that's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
and he called it "absolutely nothing"
becaue that's what it was really about
and he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
and he hung it on that bathroom door
because he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen

Woob woob


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OfflineLegalize
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: dillweed4]
    #12492182 - 05/02/10 05:26 AM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Sex.
The act which fills the world with kin.
Money.
That which makes this world spin.
Power.
Greatly increased after a bottle of gin.


Thank you, thank you. I was high as fuck when I wrote this. High on what is for me to know and you to find out!


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


Opiate free since 8/26/10 :thumbup:

Opiate free since 6/22/11 :thumbup: :sun: :thumbup:


Edited by Legalize (05/02/10 05:27 AM)


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Offlineauxiliary
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Legalize]
    #12500796 - 05/03/10 08:34 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Dilweed, dude- :sad:
I loved it though. Don't stop


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Offlineauxiliary
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: auxiliary]
    #12501000 - 05/03/10 09:07 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Memories
Just as what a good long survey of the sun can do,
They're blotched with opaque bubbles of red and blue.
They've been written; they've been spoken, yet fluid and elude
A longing for a permanence, practical and true.

Knocked Up
You shall reap what you sow.
But you know he ain't a gardener,
He just plays with the hose.
But for 9 months he pardons her,
For in 9 months he knows-
By birth of his own daughter,
He's turned bottles into bones.



EDIT: I'm a perfectionist, had some spelling and syntax errors.


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


Edited by auxiliary (05/03/10 09:18 PM)


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Offlinedillweed4
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: auxiliary]
    #12509210 - 05/05/10 08:30 AM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Quote:

auxiliary said:
Dilweed, dude- :sad:
I loved it though. Don't stop




Next time I can be bothered I will write up another of my poems


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


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OfflineOrgoneaccumulator
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: dillweed4]
    #12522013 - 05/07/10 02:31 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

First post! Here's one of my 'surrealist' rants/prose.

The sky is clear, so eyes got to be cloudy.

Columbine was the result of mind control. I licked her clitoris in sync with the flickering candle. Larva fall from the ceiling. Subcutaneous spiders weave a second flesh. Thoughts swirl like the iridescent gasoline in sidewalk puddles. I saw the patterns of the universe unfold in a six car pile up on highway eleven. Sometimes I think getting nausea is the only time I am aware of my stomach. The bed is vacant, her absence is vital to sustaining my particular pulse. Decomposing frogs molested by fibrous tendrils. Stick figures claim the territory formally known as my liver. In the mirror, I notice my throat has been replaced by a black void.


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


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Offlineauxiliary
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Orgoneaccumulator]
    #12523288 - 05/07/10 07:04 PM (10 years, 3 months ago)

Quote:

Orgoneaccumulator said:
First post! Here's one of my 'surrealist' rants/prose.

The sky is clear, so eyes got to be cloudy.

Columbine was the result of mind control. I licked her clitoris in sync with the flickering candle. Larva fall from the ceiling. Subcutaneous spiders weave a second flesh. Thoughts swirl like the iridescent gasoline in sidewalk puddles. I saw the patterns of the universe unfold in a six car pile up on highway eleven. Sometimes I think getting nausea is the only time I am aware of my stomach. The bed is vacant, her absence is vital to sustaining my particular pulse. Decomposing frogs molested by fibrous tendrils. Stick figures claim the territory formally known as my liver. In the mirror, I notice my throat has been replaced by a black void.



Holy shit dude.


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


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