[Mike.Sen]

I'm posting a lot, so bear with me. All the **** I been working on.

___________________________


Arabic Hides From Latin

Letters climb and
Fall,
a-Looking on Home, to
Day, at
Bay, a-
Looking for a-
Life,
With Numbers.

___________________________


↔ ∞ ↔

If the sky for I
Is but a lie –
What then?

What left? – For us to reach? –
Will give us what we preach? –
When time has spite itself When
Time has striked itself when Time
Has raped itself when time Has
Doped itself when time has Coaxed
Itself when time has calmed Itself –

When time becomes itself.


___________________________


You're Terrible;I'm Terrible

Seven made not has Heaven,
And to change the Revin’
Engine to a teacher
Would make it nothing,
But a preacher.

___________________________


Recursing Meter

Trust thyself:
Every heart vibrates to that tender tune,
That laps upon a fragrant swoon,
And traps upon a crescent moon,
As if he were a tablet blank,
Written by the teller bank,
Which took his deposits,
Of Life’s only Greatests.

___________________________


(Transliterated Ho Logos

Like secrets alive, and, but
Not for Jive
Don’t bother to bribe your
Secrets, you, thrive on
Knives and Shrimp and Brine but
Those secrets you drive have
no reason: derive the
equation for jive and

Logicide

___________________________


Road Trips & Ashes Ripped

I’ll ne’er forget,
The time you bet,
I’d not survive;
That the drive,
From Macon Georgee,
To Tallahassee,
Would kill in me,
My glorious glee,
By the passage of florrida time…


___________________________


I Title For Title-Nazis.

You, leaves that stream and creeds that scream,
I want you,

{Breath[e]}

To seem
ta thrive;
Ta dive…

– To arrive –

…inta jive.

My ribbons deprive you[r] strive,
For windows alive, with Phlogistan –
My blind don’t take kind to –

Phlogistan.

Especially in Chey-enne.
‘Cus Tom Grabbit can nab it:
Books that blab it:
‘Bout secrets of San-
Serifs, why liked
By rabbits that ran it,
When America…

Was not a-planet.


___________________________

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epistemology see infallibilism/indefeasibility for Tom Grabit.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phlogiston for Phlogistan

I'd show you two others, but I had to photoshop them. So Oh well, and I really like 'em, meh.


But here's the stuff I wrote last friday & 1 from today.


___________________________


– New Father Poems –

___________________________


R.A.S. & M.A.S
Or:
Father & Son


Smile, Babe, you are ten
Days old, and
There’s a camera, and
I got my, – Babe, – New,
Father’s Beard
I been plannin’
Just all for, you, &,
Twelve months old.

Behind us are
Wood-slat walls, and
Eleven for eighty eight.

Before us is eighty nine, ninety eight, and
Two thousand, and
One, and
Two, and
Three, and
Four, and

Smile, Babe, you are ten
Days old, and
There’s a camera,
Hope one day,
You’ll have your, – Babe, – New
Father’s Beard, too.


___________________________


Cigarettes, Child


Don’t ever start.

___________________________


For The Rest of Your Life


Fly!
You’re in the sky!
Those aren’t hands,
They’re wings!
All you have to do is try!
Now fly!

___________________________


Cyclical


Mommy!
Daddy!
Look what I made!

Mom!
Dad!
Look what I made!

___________________________


Etymology


Men write,
Baby words.

Fathers write,
Word babies.

Poets wrote,
the Word baby.

___________________________


But I don’t want to read, Dad!


You can be
whatever you want
to be,
But you won’t be it
without a brain.


___________________________


Whatevah. I'm actually not going to post the one I wrote today. It's too good for you.

[ipoppedtammy]

Most of those poems seem kind of gimmicky.

[FreshPooky]

Bring this thread back

[BigDaddie101 (Banned)]

bump?

[mynameisjonathon]

I have been thinking about writing something like this so here is a rough draft.

A man floats a drift
Hands frozen to the wreckage
Icy water removes his senses
His body retreats into his head
Lifeless all that remains is his mind
And as it burns he is almost an echo
Yearning for one last look at his home

Surely he will perish at this watery grave
Thoughts of death manifest like stars during twilight
Just before he becomes a silhouette
The great bay lighthouse
Shining on the horizon
Chases those thoughts away

The Light is his servant
That purports to take him home
A Birds view of all that he knows
There is the town
Now the familiar street
He stands on the worn steps
The scent invading his nose
As every nerve in his body screams
He is allowed a fleeting look at her face
And life is extinguished
Subtle like the caress of wind

His body is found out in the bay
Miles from the coast
With no land in sight
No image of a lighthouse on the horizon
Death is a friendly invader

[Citizen X]

Merged mynameisjonathon's Free Verse thread into here.

[nabbiker3]

Citizen's you told me to work on my free verse, ne improvement?

Home sweet Home

They say home is where the heart is
Well my homes empty and bare.
I lost my sanity at the front door
And the reason for life on the stairs.
The bedrooms are lonely, with a draft in the air
I sit with empty bottle sorting out my prayers
The lawn needs trimming as it overgrows and dies
My mind keeps spinning from the false hope and lies,

They say love is blind
I can hear it laughing at me
Gleefully taking the heart of another victim.
All I ever wanted was someone to keep me warm.
I can see my breath as I stare up at my ceiling,
Littered with cracks and mold it haunts me at night.

They say that everything works out in the end,
Well my end is near and I see no light.
The termites have hallowed out the walls around me.
The foundation is cracking at the seams.
What used to be strong and proud is now a broken dream.
What used to be my home is now an empty house.
__________________

Regrets

Finally I am free.
No more black attire, only a parade in my name.
People have stopped to watch me march down the road.
The birds chirping, as the life of spring has begun.
No more cloudy days in my future,
Only the Light is in the sky.
I see my family and friends everywhere; they treat me as a king today.
A bond of unity has fallen over the crowd.
As I pass them all I see them strain their necks to get a clear view.
Everyone gathers into my palace.
Words are said about me that make me tear.
Friends tell stories and people speak of how I have helped them.
Soon it is only my family and I alone on this day.
My mother speaks of how much she’ll miss her son.
How she will always remember the baby in her arms.
My father tells me how proud he is of me.
My little sister cries as she promises to never forget me,
My little brother stands there silently; no words need to be spoken.
They say they’re final goodbye as they kiss their hand and place it on my prison.
I want to hold them tight, I want to take back my mistake.
Freedom is what I always wished for, But love was always there.
_______________________
(no name yet)

Where have you gone?
I sit back and replay the days we lived.
You by my side as we travel through the night.
I smile at you and you pull my arm closer.

Sleep my dear; rest on me for a while.
Rest your weary head I shall keep you safe.

Hello, are you there?
I miss the times we used to love.
Summer bringing lust into the air.
My sweatshirt wrapped around you as I hold you against the sand.

Enjoy my dear; have fun with me for a while.
Lay your head next to mine, lets become one.

Do you still think of me?
I am now a past memory to you.
I hope I still bring a smile to your face.
I have become what I never wanted to be.

Remember my dear, hold me a little while longer.
Reminisce your thoughts I shall make you laugh.

Are you happy?
I knew a time would come where life would split.
I’d lose you forever without a goodbye.
We never meant for it to happen.

Goodbye my dear, love you forever
Clear your heart of me and find someone worthy of my place.

[slickguy55]

Unfortunately I didn't have any poems that I have written in the past saved on my computer. So I wrote one just now so I have at least something to post. I'll come up with a better one soon, but for now I'll just share this one that was made sloppily from scratch...

The Monkey on My Back
I fear the consequence that only I know
Success and smiles are just for show
Wait for the wall to vanish away
Until then I will never have my way

Secrets are best shared with all
If kept inside they induce a fall
My favorite reality is only a dream
Wake up daily to a scream

Free me from the future created by my past
Open up my door way and watch me run at last
I want to once again be able to grow
But I fear the consequence that I only know

[PaperPaintball]

i was feeling poetic and inspired and this is the result...

I will walk through the park tonight
But not too fast and not without purpose
I feel as though this night might be the start of something new
I'm here to tell a story, not a tradegy

I may not know anything, but i will tell the truth as i see it
There is grass beneath my feet, There are trees all around me
The sky is nothing but black, and i'm losing track of where i'm going

Take a look at the tree
It may truly have personality
Now touch the the leaves, the bark, the roots
It may change the way you think

Feel the grass beneath your feet
It may make you feel right at home
Now lay in the grass and look up into the black
It may change the way you think

I will walk through life everyday
But not too fast and not without purpose
I feel as though each moment might be the start of something new
I'm here to change the world, not go unnoticed

[Citizen X]

Merged PaperPaintball's random poem thread into here.

[paintballfreak0101]

I was wondering if this would be a good place to display my poetry which I assumed from this being the literature forum. So anyway, I have been writing for over a year or so and the other day I was trying to come up with a nontraditional way to write my poetry so I started writing and I came up with this. Please comment and tell me if it makes any sense to you. This poem is written called fault and is written in a form that I would like to call a free sonnet because of its 14 lines and lack of exact iambic pentameter.

The people that I thought were the model of perfection
Those that I thought I'd give my life for
Made me see the fault in all humanity
Those people who I thought would always be there for me
Showed me their true colors and where their motives seemed to be
I just wanted a leader to provide me the proper direction
To lead me through the right door
But I'm at life's cross ways staring at the clocks
As each moment passes and each door is sealed with locks
And I'm left in the cold as each heart rejects me despite my knocks
Indeed I am the victim of some horrific selection
That stabs my spirit down to its core
Certainly life is like a filthy prostitute
Fulfilling our desires then leaving us destitute

[Citizen X]

Merged paintballfreak0101's Poetry thread with this one.

[mother cocker]

Never really made a title guess you could call it Nothing.

You don't hear me,
You don't see me,
There is no scent,
You don't feel me,
You hate me,
You despise me,
I am your worst enemy,
You can't get rid of me,
I am your best friend,
Always at your side,
But never with you,
I am empty space,
Yet I fill everything around you,
I am everything,
I am nothing.

[JPizzle]

i always want to come in here and critique, but it's so pointless

IMAGE
IMAGE
IMAGE

find mediums to DISPLAY these thoughts/feelings/ideas

why do you think that lowell used "Like an old opera tune/Played upon a harpsichord" instead of just calling her lady an old hag?

when you just jumble words together in a way that you think sounds poetic, you'll just end up with something that's been said/thought before. the trick is to evoke that familiar thought in a novel way.

[paintballfreak0101]

What simplistic nuance would you like me to portray
The softened subtle blacks or fourteen shades of gray
Please tell me what would spark your mind with interest
So that I may write the one line you cannot resist
For it is not within myself to please my flesh
But that each, mine and yours, could mesh
Into one being, perfect despite our faults

i'm bored with the same old thoughts and memories...i truly am

[mother cocker]

Originally Posted by JPizzle

i always want to come in here and critique, but it's so pointless

IMAGE
IMAGE
IMAGE

find mediums to DISPLAY these thoughts/feelings/ideas

why do you think that lowell used "Like an old opera tune/Played upon a harpsichord" instead of just calling her lady an old hag?

when you just jumble words together in a way that you think sounds poetic, you'll just end up with something that's been said/thought before. the trick is to evoke that familiar thought in a novel way.

Standing here.
A mosaic of blending qualities surrounds,
It turns it tumbles.
Rock formations full of grace,
Air that serenades a scent so crisp,
A body, as if contoured to a naked Mother Earth.
This place is bigger than you,
Here for it, or here for you?

Still trying, I know it is not very good but I enjoy writing it.

[dashJPdash (Banned)]

a first line has the responsibility of hooking a reader, motivating them to continue (many editors even believe that they know whether or not they can publish a poem simply based on it). so it needs to have action, not stagnation. this is the movement that is going to continue throughout the poem, because every line must contribute to the overall "thesis" that you establish within it. the images must also enforce it and represent a line of argument in what you're trying to prove.

i'm going to use my favorite poem as an example of image/argument (though his is a reductio ad absurdum and thus a little contrary to my previous mention of every line strengthening the argument)/stance. in my opinion, it's one of the most perfect works from a craft perspective.

Degrees Of Gray In Philipsburg
Richard Hugo


You might come here Sunday on a whim.
Say your life broke down. The last good kiss
you had was years ago. You walk these streets
laid out by the insane, past hotels
that didn't last, bars that did, the tortured try
of local drivers to accelerate their lives.
Only churches are kept up. The jail
turned 70 this year. The only prisoner
is always in, not knowing what he's done.

The principal supporting business now
is rage. Hatred of the various grays
the mountain sends, hatred of the mill,
The Silver Bill repeal, the best liked girls
who leave each year for Butte. One good
restaurant and bars can't wipe the boredom out.
The 1907 boom, eight going silver mines,
a dance floor built on springs--
all memory resolves itself in gaze,
in panoramic green you know the cattle eat
or two stacks high above the town,
two dead kilns, the huge mill in collapse
for fifty years that won't fall finally down.

Isn't this your life? That ancient kiss
still burning out your eyes? Isn't this defeat
so accurate, the church bell simply seems
a pure announcement: ring and no one comes?
Don't empty houses ring? Are magnesium
and scorn sufficient to support a town,
not just Philipsburg, but towns
of towering blondes, good jazz and booze
the world will never let you have
until the town you came from dies inside?

Say no to yourself. The old man, twenty
when the jail was built, still laughs
although his lips collapse. Someday soon,
he says, I'll go to sleep and not wake up.
You tell him no. You're talking to yourself.
The car that brought you here still runs.
The money you buy lunch with,
no matter where it's mined, is silver
and the girl who serves your food
is slender and her red hair lights the wall.

[noobieXwithagun]

Originally Posted by IceMob

I guess... I'l put one up.


Phoenix diary

I threw those pages in the fire
To forget who I had been.
I'd never lost myself before
I'd never fought in such a war
Where I left myself for dead.

Lined pages in a simple write
These words that measured out my life
An ideal that became defiled
A nightmare from a dream.

Every page a face; a friend
Bare flames feather in the wind
They burn away, as did the past
As I hold to now and betray then
Every name becomes the last
While I turned back the end

The sky is white, the wind is cold
In this empty field with one ashen hole.
I looked around, I was alone.
A secret isn't locked away until the memory is dead.

The fire eats away the truth
Silence grinds away my youth
I buried it all, it was all I could do
And I was new again.

I really like the title. Clever usages with mythology always appeal to me.

[noobieXwithagun]

My Siren; My Love

I thought I saw her shadow pass
Breathless
Helpless
I stood agahst
Across the sail and down the mast
I thought I saw her shadow pass

Cast upon jagged midnight stone
Breathless
Helpless
I stood alone
Water rising, she's sinking fast
I thought I saw her shadow pass

I scream, I shout, her voice resounds
Hoping
Pleading
Her captain drowns
My ship submerged, I stood steadfast
All for her shadow just to pass


(I'm impressed to see this on nation)

[noobieXwithagun]

The Divine?

I'm lonely
I've created all the vastness of space
But who is to appreciate it
Why does the star super nova when it is only I who may notice
Why do the planets revolve in such harmony, like a dance
Only I would notice
I'll tell you what I'll do
I'll create a planet
Give it life
Then maybe someone will take notice to what I've done
They will surely awe at the clusters of light that speckle their black sky
They will surely wish wild fantasies upon streaking comets
They will be eternally grateful for the existence I have provided
They will honor my name like no other in existence
They will notice Me
And if they don't
They will burn for eternity

[dashJPdash (Banned)]

Originally Posted by noobieXwithagun

My Siren; My Love

I thought I saw her shadow pass
Breathless
Helpless
I stood agahst
Across the sail and down the mast
I thought I saw her shadow pass

Cast upon jagged midnight stone
Breathless
Helpless
I stood alone
Water rising, she's sinking fast
I thought I saw her shadow pass

I scream, I shout, her voice resounds
Hoping
Pleading
Her captain drowns
My ship submerged, I stood steadfast
All for her shadow just to pass


(I'm impressed to see this on nation)

it seems like the sole purpose of 90% of your lines is to simply fit in rhymes. we modern poetry readers find much more interest in solid ideas than meter

Originally Posted by noobieXwithagun

The Divine?

I'm lonely
I've created all the vastness of space
But who is to appreciate it
Why does the star super nova when it is only I who may notice
Why do the planets revolve in such harmony, like a dance
Only I would notice
I'll tell you what I'll do
I'll create a planet
Give it life
Then maybe someone will take notice to what I've done
They will surely awe at the clusters of light that speckle their black sky
They will surely wish wild fantasies upon streaking comets
They will be eternally grateful for the existence I have provided
They will honor my name like no other in existence
They will notice Me
And if they don't
They will burn for eternity

i like this idea, but you're regurgitating the concept everyone envisions the judeo-christian god to be. let's see you take some liberty with him. really capture his loneliness and his longing for companionship (and definitely embrace, but loathe and resent, the non-believers). humanize him (aren't we in his image?), but set him extrinsically apart (and thus still lonely, but pleased with his creation). that's what i like to see, along with the first line definitely cut

remember rule 1 of all writing:

SHOW; don't tell