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InvisibleStopwhispering
The voodoo peoples
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Registered: 05/01/10
Posts: 4,390
Loc: Melbourne Flag
Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise.
    #14403747 - 05/05/11 05:33 AM (12 years, 8 months ago)

One of my favorite pieces of writing ever:

In Broken Images by Robert Graves


He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.

He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.

Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.

Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;
Questioning their relevance, I question their fact.

When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
when the fact fails me, I approve my senses.

He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.

He in a new confusion of his understanding;
I in a new understanding of my confusion.



Post up whatever you love be it poetry, literature. song lyrics or whatever.

:mushroomtwirl:


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InvisiblePenelope_Tree
Shamanic Panic
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Registered: 07/31/09
Posts: 8,535
Loc: magic sugarcastle
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Stopwhispering]
    #14415139 - 05/07/11 12:54 PM (12 years, 8 months ago)

“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

— Pablo Neruda


--------------------
full blown human


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InvisibleStopwhispering
The voodoo peoples
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Folding@home Statistics
Registered: 05/01/10
Posts: 4,390
Loc: Melbourne Flag
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Penelope_Tree]
    #14417926 - 05/08/11 02:30 AM (12 years, 8 months ago)

Hmm not much response to this thread.  :lol:

Oh wells, here be another:

"Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection     
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night." - Allen Ginsberg

Cheers all.


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OfflineVsnares.Zappa
bend over

Registered: 05/04/11
Posts: 3,153
Last seen: 3 months, 17 days
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Stopwhispering]
    #14417955 - 05/08/11 02:38 AM (12 years, 8 months ago)

Dinosauria, We



Born like this
Into this
As the chalk faces smile
As Mrs. Death laughs
As the elevators break
As political landscapes dissolve
As the supermarket bag boy holds a college degree
As the oily fish spit out their oily prey
As the sun is masked
We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it's cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it's cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes
Born into this
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this
Muted because of this
Castrated
Debauched
Disinherited
Because of this
Fooled by this
Used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman
By this
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun
The knife
The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle
The pill
The powder
We are born into this sorrowful deadliness
We are born into a government 60 years in debt
That soon will be unable to even pay the interest on that debt
And the banks will burn
Money will be useless
There will be open and unpunished murder in the streets
It will be guns and roving mobs
Land will be useless
Food will become a diminishing return
Nuclear power will be taken over by the many
Explosions will continually shake the earth
Radiated robot men will stalk each other
The rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms
Dante's Inferno will be made to look like a children's playground
The sun will not be seen and it will always be night
Trees will die
All vegetation will die
Radiated men will eat the flesh of radiated men
The sea will be poisoned
The lakes and rivers will vanish
Rain will be the new gold
The rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases
And the space platforms will be destroyed by attrition
The petering out of supplies
The natural effect of general decay
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that.
The sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter.

Charles Bukowski


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OfflineCallmechris
Hephaestus
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Registered: 04/19/11
Posts: 25
Loc: Earth
Last seen: 11 years, 7 months
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Vsnares.Zappa]
    #14423530 - 05/09/11 08:08 AM (12 years, 8 months ago)

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-



UNDER a spreading chestnut tree

The village smithy stands;

The smith, a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands;

And the muscles of his brawny arms

Are strong as iron bands.



His hair is crisp, and black, and long,

His face is like the tan;

His brow is wet with honest sweat,

He earns whate'er he can,

And looks the whole world in the face,

For he owes not any man.



Week in, week out, from morn till night,

You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge

With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell,

When the evening sun is low.



And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door;

They love to see the flaming forge,

And hear the bellows roar,

And watch the burning sparks that fly

Like chaff from a threshing-floor.



He goes on Sunday to the church,

And sits among his boys;

He hears the parson pray and preach,

He hears his daughter's voice,

Singing in the village choir,

And it makes his heart rejoice.



It sounds to him like her mother's voice,

Singing in Paradise!

He needs must think of her once more,

How in the grave she lies;

And with his hard, rough hand he wipes

A tear out of his eyes.



Toiling,-rejoicing,-sorrowing,

Onward through life he goes;

Each morning sees some task begin,

Each evening sees it close;

Something attempted, something done,

Has earned a night's repose.



Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,

For the lesson thou hast taught!

Thus at the flaming forge of life

Our fortunes must be wrought;

Thus on its sounding anvil shaped

Each burning deed and thought!


--------------------
Gold is for the mistress -- silver for the maid --
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.
"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of them all."
-Rudyard Kipling-


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InvisiblePenelope_Tree
Shamanic Panic
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Registered: 07/31/09
Posts: 8,535
Loc: magic sugarcastle
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Vsnares.Zappa]
    #14424543 - 05/09/11 01:01 PM (12 years, 8 months ago)

I've heard a lot of buzz about C. Bukowski.. nice to finally read something by him!


These pieces were written by a professor at my university -  Hank Lazer

10/1/94

and then again back
in it witness
serendipitous atoms drip
& cripple the im
perceptible ache of it
jack she took her
life a parent's love
called a darkening
of the heart emily to
susan avalanche or avenue


4/15/95

slow to slogan
voracious to
veracity amen
to mendacity
flesh to pleasure
legs to legendary
costly to apostle
mesh to measure
& i wake up
next to you


6/14/99

& already we begin
to move away from
where we are

se the place  as falling away from
our momentary  habitation of it



DREAM

dream we then
of every step
the home our

body made of
interface as we
objectify ourselves bit

by bit reprogram
splice heal redirect
reconvene what we

are texture of
tense repaired dream
we then &

sing of our
new relations to
time milling ourselves

to new specifications
dream we then
of every step


--------------------
full blown human


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InvisibleJufin
Male User Gallery

Registered: 03/31/08
Posts: 5,116
Loc: Australia
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Stopwhispering]
    #14427917 - 05/10/11 01:40 AM (12 years, 8 months ago)

'I've seen the android god preaching, radiating his nuclear love.  I've seen the world around, bewitched in a pill of mescaline.' - Decapitated (Covan)


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InvisiblePenelope_Tree
Shamanic Panic
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Registered: 07/31/09
Posts: 8,535
Loc: magic sugarcastle
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Jufin]
    #14434939 - 05/11/11 01:25 PM (12 years, 8 months ago)

"And all I loved, I loved alone." -E. A. Poe


--------------------
full blown human


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OfflineMAIA
World-BridgerKartikeya (DftS)
Male User Gallery


Registered: 04/27/01
Posts: 7,396
Loc: Erra - 20 Tauri - M45 Sta...
Last seen: 20 days, 2 hours
Re: Poetry that you love/hate or otherwise. [Re: Penelope_Tree]
    #14437580 - 05/11/11 10:32 PM (12 years, 8 months ago)

"Kill Dash Nine" by Monzy

I guess I'll have to shut you down for good this time,
Already tried a SIGQUIT, so now it's KILL DASH 9.
You gotta learn when it's time for your thread to yield;
It shoulda slept; instead you stepped and now your fate is sealed.
I'll take your process off the run queue without even asking
'Cause my flow is like reentrant and preemptive multitasking.
Your sad rhymes are spinnin' like you're in a deadlock,
You're like a synchronous sock that don't know when to block;
So I pull out my keyboard and I pull out my glock,
And I dismount your girl and I mount /proc
And I've got your fuckin pid and the bottom line
Is that you best not front or else it's KILL DASH NINE.

KILL DASH NINE,
No more CPU time.
I run KILL DASH NINE,
And your process is mine.
I run KILL DASH NINE,
'Cause it's MY time to shine
So don't step outta line or else it's
KILL DASH NINE!

See it ain't about the Benjamins or Pentiums or Athlons,
But you rappin' 50 meters while I'm spittin' in decathlons.
Your shit's old and busted, mine's the new hotness;
You're like CLR and I'm like CLRS.
You're running csh and my shell is bash,
You're the tertiary storage; I'm the L1 cache.
I'm a web crawling spider; you an Internet mosquito;
You thought the 7-layer model referred to a burrito.
You're a dialup connection; I'm a gigabit LAN.
I last a mythical man-month; you a one-minute man.
It's like I'm running Thunderbird and you're still stuck with Pine,
Which is why I think it's time for me to KILL DASH NINE.

Yeah it's KILL DASH NINE
No more CPU time.
'Cause it's KILL DASH NINE,
And your process is mine.
I said KILL DASH NINE
'Cause it's my time to shine,
So don't step outta line or else it's
KILL DASH NINE!

My posse throws down like leaky bucket regulators;
I was coding shit in MIPS while you were playing Space Invaders.
With my finger on the trigger I run ./configure
Yo, this package is big, but MY package is bigger.
I roll my weed with Zig Zag while I zag-zig splay,
And I do a bounds check before I write to an array.
I'm a loc'd out baller writing KLOCS a day,
'Cause it's publish or perish, fool, what can I say?
I'm 26 now, will I live to see 28?
Some days I wonder if I'll survive to graduate.
But hey, that's just fine, I won't ever resign,
And if fools try to step then it's KILL DASH NINE!

Yeah it's KILL DASH NINE,
From my command line
It's KILL DASH NINE
Sending chills down your spine,
I said KILL DASH NINE,
'Cause it's my time to shine,
So don't step outta line or else it's
KILL DASH NINE!

fs sa rlidwka
I'll chown your home and take your access away
Comin' straight outta Stanford, ain't nobody tougher,
Control-X, Control-C, I'll discard your fuckin' buffer.
You're outside your scope, son, close them curly brackets,
'Cause I drop punk-ass bitches like a modem drops packets.
Dump your motherfucking core, and trace your stack
'Cause where your ass is going, there won't be no callback.
See my style is divine and my code is sublime,
My career's in a climb and yours is in a decline.
I'll write a pound-define and assign you as mine,
So refine those sad rhymes or remove your plus signs,

Or it's KILL DASH NINE,
No more CPU time,
'Cause it's KILL DASH NINE,
And your process is mine,
I said KILL DASH NINE
'Cause it's my time to shine,
Bitch you stepped outta line and now it's
KILL DASH NINE!

http://www.monzy.com/intro/killdashnine_lyrics.html

:tongue:


--------------------
Spiritual being, living a human experience ... The Shroomery Mandala



Use, do not abuse; neither abstinence nor excess ever renders man happy.
Voltaire


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