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Shpongle1



Registered: 10/20/09
Posts: 3,163
Loc: Above The Clouds
Last seen: 2 years, 10 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: circastes]
#17013393 - 10/11/12 04:41 PM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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The think I love about poetry is, every time I see a word spelled incorrectly, or the "incorrect" homophone used in place of the one that would usually be intended in this thread, I do a double take and end up convincing myself it was actually intentional on basis of artistic merit.
Good stuff though, dig the thread idea.
-------------------- There are more people imprisoned for the commission of drug offenses in the United States - close to 500,000 - than are incarcerated in England, France, Germany, and Japan for all crimes combined. Examined in another way, the United States has 100,000 more people incarcerated for nonviolent drug offenses than all the countries of the European Union combined, despite the fact that the European Union has 100 million more citizens.
- "Drugs and Drug Policy: The Control of Consciousness Alteration, 2007.
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CookieCrumbs
Fucked off to the pub



Registered: 12/10/11
Posts: 14,178
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Shpongle1]
#17039482 - 10/16/12 12:25 AM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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The blade missed my heart But it was pierced anyway Bearing the weight of the world As I am steadily crushed
Men deserve more than they have Knowing that somehow They were meant for more Than this shallow existence More than flaws of system
So steal from your fellow man And make yours what was meant Violence begets violence As hate makes hate And greed feeds greed Is there no one to stop this?
I want to gouge my eyes out So I will see no more This devastation of my people I want to blow my ears out So I will hear no more The cries of criminals and victims
The Empires of man Were built with blood, sweat, and tears But not of the kings and politicians Who reign for a god they don’t know Each only demanding more of the downtrodden And it will never be enough
I cut my chest open So I feel no more This god forsaken continuum With a blade jammed in my breast
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Free time is the only time
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Psychedelic Pupil
Goober



Registered: 09/27/12
Posts: 744
Loc: The bright side of life
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: CookieCrumbs]
#17057884 - 10/18/12 09:08 PM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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"The Knife Cries"
The knife cries through smooth death. That's un-debatable. What remains to be seen is the knifes true form, and What's the death? To die, be dying, so many kinds of death. It;s definition is unreliable and form fitted To the shapes of our bodies, like tan lycra you might have worn during your morning run To strengthen your heart, and body, to extend your life.
Extend your life?
How could you know it's been extended unless you know you've died? Your life is the form. Yet not always true, it's tempered, sharpen-able, but always dulling as it gets used. As you get used. There's an obvious handle. Even a child picks up a knife by it's handle. Their keen eyes see the sharpness of its edge. The edge is the form. Always true. Stepping off, falling off, there is always an edge. How far is it? Probably not as far as death. Probably not as smooth.
There is rarely jagged death, but form can be jagged. the form of an edge, the form of a knife, the form of a death. The form of a body falling loosely to the ground In an exhale of exhaustion that is not the precusrsor to a breath. Smooth breath on the edge of death. Jagged edge in form and completion. Smooth death crying for the knife. Don't cry for death, cry, if you will, for life. Not the longing for an end. The yearning for incompletion? No. The yearning for completion? No. Completion.
-------------------- I'd like to think I'm smart enough to realize how much knowledge I don't have.
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StockyRocky
Captain of Albion


Registered: 10/11/12
Posts: 57
Loc: UK
Last seen: 11 years, 5 months
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Cold, hard, and smooth to the touch warm, running, and rushing up i breath you in, to hold my drudge i feel you embrace, and start to nudge you flow through me, with arms held wide a crashing of the water, held high with the tide this burning is holding me, at the edge the dragon is chasing, he had nothing, he fled your silk white gown, smokes with cloud your sinking frown, holds me to ground the weight coming back, i need you more back to the drudge, till i have some more
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StockyRocky
Captain of Albion


Registered: 10/11/12
Posts: 57
Loc: UK
Last seen: 11 years, 5 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: StockyRocky] 1
#17074498 - 10/21/12 05:45 PM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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Love is the only truth, yet love can exist without truth, you will find neither here, nor anywhere, you say you will wait forever, no matter how long, but no love will you find, the rain will fall and the wind will blow, a damp cold curse over your soul.
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245willow19

Registered: 06/14/10
Posts: 4,861
Last seen: 8 years, 4 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: StockyRocky]
#17078561 - 10/22/12 11:59 AM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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Shit!
Edited by 245willow19 (01/20/13 10:49 AM)
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moonrockmushy
High on Spite



Registered: 07/01/05
Posts: 19,071
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: 245willow19]
#17078978 - 10/22/12 01:12 PM (11 years, 8 months ago) |
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Nice work. Awesome phrasing and imagery
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psilocybepoetess
Stranger


Registered: 11/30/11
Posts: 57
Last seen: 1 year, 6 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: moonrockmushy] 2
#17089068 - 10/23/12 09:46 PM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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Mother
I looked at you like a memory.
I bit your skin, and peeled away your bitter rind. Spitting out seeds, you were just as sour as I expected.
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Psychedelic Pupil
Goober



Registered: 09/27/12
Posts: 744
Loc: The bright side of life
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Quote:
psilocybepoetess said: Mother
I looked at you like a memory.
I bit your skin, and peeled away your bitter rind. Spitting out seeds, you were just as sour as I expected.
I love the simplicity of this and Ouch! it makes me kind of hurt
-------------------- I'd like to think I'm smart enough to realize how much knowledge I don't have.
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psilocybepoetess
Stranger


Registered: 11/30/11
Posts: 57
Last seen: 1 year, 6 months
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Thank you, Psychedelic Pupil.
These lines are killer, "Your life is the form. Yet not always true, it's tempered, sharpen-able,... always dulling as it gets used. As you get used... Even a child picks up a knife by it's handle."
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Psychedelic Pupil
Goober



Registered: 09/27/12
Posts: 744
Loc: The bright side of life
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And thank you. There's actually 3 other parts that are just as long. I just got tired of typing so I stopped there. Here's the next part.
Completion? How can so many experiences end? The search for knowledge? Discovering the past talents or traits left behind by some prime intuition Of a way that has past like all other ways. But not past into the distant oblivion. That's not our memory. Our memory is here, what has formed around us and within us. It is shared and justified with others. The experience must be justified or the memory is not complete. And never is, because the further from the memory you go the more you can pick it up And roll it around to reveal new facets to its shape that somehow you missed before. What, was missed before. What was missed before? What, did you say? What, did you mean? What the fuck is going on? Why is what missed so often? Not only before but now and again, right there, I just missed another what. Why can't we learn, what? Why don't we ask, what? Why didn't I say, what? I don't understand. I can't remember. That memory that formed a circle around that information I was supposed to hang on to So I wouldn't have to say, what, has somehow now faded. It is not a circle that holds or contains. Now a circle that's a void for knowledge to pass through. What, was in the void. What, is in the world. What, are all my meager experiences accumulating to? What, are all my extraordinary experiences boiling down to? It all boils down to something, I should have just asked...what?
-------------------- I'd like to think I'm smart enough to realize how much knowledge I don't have.
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Opinionatticus
Stranger


Registered: 10/26/12
Posts: 8
Last seen: 11 years, 7 months
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Not a wink of sleep Life's a waking dream Not for a week No sleep sleep sleep No end in sight No internal drive Just my tortured mind Reflective suicide
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fallingbacktoearth
Leave out meaning this time

Registered: 10/27/12
Posts: 80
Last seen: 11 years, 6 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Opinionatticus]
#17115534 - 10/28/12 01:22 AM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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(Just had one of the greatest nights of my life and this is what i'm feeling right now:)
LETTING GO (IS NOT A PROCESS)
buzzed into the oblivion of love. fuck it. that's my motto. fuck it.
who gives a flying fuck? it's here. why think about it? why theorize about it? why look for answers?
it's right fucking here. there is no fucking path. there is no fucking thing to follow. no explicit rules. it's here.
that's it. let it go. let it go. let it go.
what the fuck else is there? tomorrow? it doesn't exist. yesterday? gone too.
what the fuck else is there. wake up. you have it all.
why fight it? why play games with yourself? why try so hard?
it's now. that's it. let it go. you don't have to wear a mask. you don't have to be anything.
let it all go. ride the waves it's all around you. this is it. this is all you'll ever know.
you can lock yourself away and drain yourself in hope. or you can open the fuck up right now. you can forget about it all right now.
it's a game. it's all it is. we try so hard. we swim against the current.
go with it. whatever it is, go with it. no lust for result. no expectations. no more fucking hope.
it's now or never. the love is already here it's within you. it's always there and you run from it.
you ask questions. you look in the wrong places. stop looking. the search is over.
the treasure has been found. it's within. it always has been. what are you fighting? what are you lying about now?
forget all that. forget it. what is there to do but accept this? and let it be? what else is there?
nothing. you are it. you always have been. it's so easy to forget. it's so easy to get lost in all that thought all that illusion.
you don't need anyone or anything to bring it out.
let go of all that. no more holding on. no more childish games.
you know the truth. there is nothing to correct. there is nothing to figure out.
it's now. that's all you'll ever have. leave the meaning out. just let it go.
you've always been there. all you have to do is remember.

(yea it's not a sublime work of genius but it's from the heart, so as the poem states, "fuck it." hope you enjoyed )
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Psychedelic Pupil
Goober



Registered: 09/27/12
Posts: 744
Loc: The bright side of life
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Quote:
Opinionatticus said: Not a wink of sleep Life's a waking dream Not for a week No sleep sleep sleep No end in sight No internal drive Just my tortured mind Reflective suicide
Well written and depressing. I've been there before. Thankful things got better.
Quote:
fallingbacktoearth said: (Just had one of the greatest nights of my life and this is what i'm feeling right now:)
(yea it's not a sublime work of genius but it's from the heart, so as the poem states, "fuck it." hope you enjoyed )
I like it! It's filled with lots of hope! Thanks for sharing.
-------------------- I'd like to think I'm smart enough to realize how much knowledge I don't have.
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TheMule73
Stranger


Registered: 08/26/11
Posts: 1,800
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: sirbojangles]
#17122279 - 10/29/12 07:05 AM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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Quote:
sirbojangles said:
PAULSBORO:
i left home the minute the option fell in my lap i found myself living in silent hill off-map an oil town never slapped with a federal cap the refinery whines behind the whining of my trap i learned i yapped i laugh and ask my uncle for a half and jacked off to the idea of girl resting her head against my back
we lived with a couple of couples and a couple of cats the black one took to rubbing her face on my hat the other two needed a smaller animal to attack so i sat and got fat fell into a pattern i thought i was better than that doing nothing compulsively and constantly distracted
i reacted tacked on a bunch of projects that required acting then the couples collapsed and the depression relapsed i was left all alone with an empty floor covered in plastic facts are facts i wont pretend living alone wasnt fantastic no one to find dirty dishes to be drastic no one to call me on my bullshit when im manic moving around wont work right if you let yourself panic
so i sat around and enjoyed the town i knew id never be back then i packed and left behind a bunch of crap and moved away from the deleware bay and the oil that made it black to the friends who thought i either didnt care or i finally cracked
to the city where your safe away from where the crack is being sold and the death of a friend makes people in their 20s feel old where you end up putting the health of your body on hold and where every strand of dignity is sold
everyone wants to buy things theyre just doing what theyre told
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245willow19

Registered: 06/14/10
Posts: 4,861
Last seen: 8 years, 4 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: TheMule73]
#17124119 - 10/29/12 01:34 PM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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Shit!
Edited by 245willow19 (01/20/13 10:50 AM)
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KS_funguy
Belligerent Drunk Midget



Registered: 03/04/11
Posts: 763
Loc: Land of Oz... (not the pr...
Last seen: 7 years, 9 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: 245willow19] 1
#17137100 - 10/31/12 02:25 PM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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Becoming something other... Enveloped in this fleshy chrysalis, I feel the alien limbs stretch restlessly, Some rudimentary things adorned with Claws and scales. This thing inside me quickens, Brought to life by the cauterizing heat within my heart. It hungers. It gnashes fangs. It waits to shed this suppurating shell of soft pink meat And spread its magnificent, Coldly glistening wings. It watches from within, Hoping someday to sample the flavors of human flesh. It goes by many names, Demon, Anger, But it knows not these monikers, For its language is its own, Made up of the smell of fear And the squeals of prey. Watch it transform within me. Watch as it changes me. Watch me becoming. Watch it blossom like a spoiled, Putrid flower. And know that you have triggered this, By planting this evil seed within my heart.
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Big Worm
Perf



Registered: 04/20/09
Posts: 7,642
Last seen: 4 years, 2 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: KS_funguy]
#17137162 - 10/31/12 02:35 PM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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The Sky Opened up
Yo, I saw the sky open up I thought i've seen some things but I guess it's not enough Bright light Saturated color, I tell em' Bright light Saturated Color Things are not as duller
Opening my eyes is like a remedy Pouring out my feelings just so i can see a friend in me While lending me the profits from a trickled down successor tree Hoping in the end that it would open up the best in me
But nows the time, to open up and sense again and hopefully progress ourselves into better enlightened men Think about the now instead of hanging on to then and then you'll start to see the colors of the ones who can
So don't give up See it with your minds eye open the door and say hello and not goodbye Entrance step onto the stage, Open another chapter or another page
Yo, I saw the sky open up I thought i've seen some things but I guess it's not enough Bright light Saturated color I tell em' Bright light Saturated Color
Hold on, while I continue breathing and try to capture every bit of life's beautiful meaning Now it's seeming, so hard to see the light while i'm still dreaming While everyday just takes a little bit of sweet believing
Now you see, the level of the rebel that is me and if you don't believe in deja' vu' believe in destiny Because there might be a message that is floating in the sea and if you don't open your eyes then that message won't be freed
But yo check it, I might just get elected My verse could curse the wickeds worse if you could only catch it Now just set it, like an old recorded memory Blending all my senses just becomes a routine tendency
Now can you find, the piece that has been missing You might just hear some wisdom words so sit back take a listen And i'd be lying if I said I've never hurt But whether you or I felt the pain we try to make it work
Yo, I saw the sky open up I thought i've seen some things but I guess it's not enough Bright light Saturated color I tell em' Bright light Saturated Color
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CookieCrumbs
Fucked off to the pub



Registered: 12/10/11
Posts: 14,178
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Big Worm]
#17152144 - 11/03/12 07:59 AM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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Some truly amazing work in here guys. I personally thank you all for sharing and I try to read it all whenever someone posts. Keep it up!
Tease me Beg to please me Pretend to see me And leave me
Give new meaning To helpless Broken down Souls cast to oblivion
Working toward freedom Seeking the ease Only the void This is not relief
Feel dead Beg to be dead Pretend to be dead And die.
--------------------
Free time is the only time
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KS_funguy
Belligerent Drunk Midget



Registered: 03/04/11
Posts: 763
Loc: Land of Oz... (not the pr...
Last seen: 7 years, 9 months
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: CookieCrumbs]
#17153391 - 11/03/12 12:50 PM (11 years, 7 months ago) |
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My days are numbered. Ties are severed and bridges burned. Each day that passes, Sun setting like a guillotine. Tick Tock, Tick Tock, For everyone else the world still turns. But I am left a ghost, Walking through my final days unseen. Time draw to close, With sickness and so many lessons learned. And I lay my head wondering, What will my fleeting memory mean?
(upon learning I have a fatal illness, I sit and watch each day tick by like a death row inmate, my health fails more and more each day. I have given up being afraid of my imminent demise, instead focusing on what impact my life will leave behind. Will my children remember me kindly? Will my wife learn to love and be whole once again?)
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