Thread: A Poem Thread

  1. #421
    How can I help you?

  2. #422 two times

  3. #423
    How can I help you?
    No need- Xev referred me to this thread and your poetry I found laughable. You can laugh if you wish.

  4. #424
    You can laugh if you wish.
    I hope a chuckle will do.

  5. #425
    chapter 7

    They disturbed my peace.
    At least it’s the lie I submerged myself within.
    I fight for them, and yet I was there to exploit them.
    I hate their every being, for at each chance,
    They nullify the lies I fight for.
    It is not selfishness that I hate them,
    For I fight for them, I bleed for them.
    Perhaps I hate that my quest is in vain,
    And that upon my death, all I shall feel is pain.
    It is my being to rule them—they are children.
    It is my being to protect them—they are meek.
    It is my being to shelter them—they are homeless.
    Yet, I feel my hatred of them is justified.
    I can fight and hate.
    I can shelter and hate.
    I can protect them and still hate them.
    Still, all the fucking mirror shows is I.
    I am unlike them!
    In their midst, I see them as a whole:
    A jumbled mess of fallen promises and abusers of sacrifices by others,
    Idle masses all following each other, and all none,
    Pathetic fools incapable of realizing anything past the primitive.
    They are abstractions. I have every right to hate them!

  6. #426
    smoking revolver
    //Avatar laughs together with gendanken

    I am cut off from home
    And burried in sand,
    Drowned in the tears
    Of those I don't know.

    I heard songs of promise
    And of life in the sky,
    But none of them sang to me.

    You did not feel
    My touch on your chest
    And the kiss of your desperate bride;
    My blood and my pain in vain.

    I'm a tear that is flowing into the land,
    I'm the fire of life that cries for the sun;
    I'm the rose on your grave -
    We shall rot as one.

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 04-25-04 at 04:52 PM.

  7. #427
    Yes of course, my poetry extends beyond 2/3 lines cut in 9 different places with a simple rhyme scheme and a topic always the shame. I’m glad you enjoy yourself, after all, what’s the point of any writing if it does nothing for the reader.

    Moving on:

    Chapter 0.

    As we lay in the sanctuary of the bed,
    having escaped the heat, and the stares of outsiders,
    my fingers traced the arch of her cool back.
    I just knew the rhythm of her breathing was almost as soothing
    as the peace that would surely be on her face.
    Yet even when in her sleep she nudged nearer to me,
    pushing herself closer to me, giving herself to me,
    even in her dream, I still would not look.
    My gaze, fixated upon a darker spot on the ceiling,
    lost focus the harder and harder I tried, so I wouldn’t fail,
    so to hide my distress amid the false of calm,
    so to pretend the quickness of my heartbeat to whim,
    so to protect myself from what was to come— decision, ‘twas made by I,
    so to pull sheets upon sheets of ice over my already cold heart.

  8. #428
    My poem was inspired on this:

    Death And The Maiden

    Waltz with me.
    Dance with me.
    Protect me in your deathly arms.
    Shadow me.
    Save me.
    Secure me.

    Breath into me,
    My open mouth expects you.
    into my lungs,
    give my your air.
    Take me.

    Hold me.
    Wrap my bare skin
    In your cold arms. I need them.
    Make my hairs erect.
    Make me cold.
    Make me bold.

    Wound me.
    Wound me again and scar me.
    Rape me with your eyes.
    Touch me.
    Make me more than a woman,
    More than a soul.

    Break my back with the weight of your influence.
    Take me westwards.
    Let me fall.
    Kiss me.
    Kiss me again.

    I want to feel your jaw against my lips.
    It is raw.
    It is not love.
    It is love.
    Fascinate me, dark one.
    Posses me.

    Empty me.
    Fill me brim full and drink from me.
    Power my and drain me.
    Death is a woman.
    I am a woman.
    Be mine, death.

    Take my brests for they are not needed.
    Take my womb and shred it.
    Strip me down.
    For I have no eyes, for I
    have been taken.
    I am owned.

    Give me wings and allow me to feel
    Long gone.
    Scatter my ashes upon the shore.
    Let me be taken away.

  9. #429
    smoking revolver
    [the ascent of beast - killing humanity]

    shot the bastard, shot his son,
    made his wife to pay the fees
    for the funeral.

    lock, lock, lock and rot,
    rot inside the pit,
    lock yourself inside a rock,
    lock inside the pit.

    pride from the inside
    shining smile,
    pride of stinking flesh.

    knife is making sex
    with your lungs,
    air is wasted into screams -
    no retries.


    [the descent of man - killing dreams]

    crucified dreams
    on a barren land,
    dust and sweat
    flowing down their lips.

    crows fly around the necks -
    feathered angels of death;
    "maaster, maaster",
    scream they to the flesh.

    beast, beast in your blood,
    beast awakes to die,
    beast awakes to eat
    your brain.

    "maaster, maaster",
    mirror licks itself:
    tasty, tasty master's flesh -
    master is dead.

  10. #430
    2 4 6 8 bog in dont wait

  11. #431
    And one of the greatest threads ever seem to be going down into the drains...Surely, through the many other threads and PMs, you two-- Xev, Gendanken can shower me with your all praise... Keep the thread for what's its for-- poetry, even if you think it "goth" or awful....

    Poetry that was deleted from here because it was turning up elsewhere:

    For You and only you

    Look at me
    Can’t you see there is a boy crying out loud?
    A man trying to burst out of this abyss?
    A boy lost in his emotions?
    A man trying to reconcile his emotions?
    A boy trying to recapture a magic gone

    Look at me
    Can’t you feel what I feel?
    A boy in fear of the possibilities?
    A man in hope of the possibilities?
    A boy clumsily trying to gather the pieces?
    A man trying to recreate from the pieces?

    This is for you and only for you
    This is I with my heart out for you
    To trample
    To rip
    To abandon

    To shelter
    To protect To revive

    This is I--
    Weak, strong confident and insecure
    I am here and I am willing to be
    For you and only for you

    I am as down as I let myself
    And as high as you let me

    This is I,
    And these are my thoughts
    And these are my feelings
    This is my heart,
    Wide Open,

    For you and only you,
    To do as you wish with it.

  12. #432
    UNtiled 88

    Self destructiveness morphed into misconceived genius.
    Trotting along the fringes of insanity
    as I prod along the focused path.

    360 turns in the midst of unfeeling.
    Circularity, my favourite mistake.
    Burning myself to experience the pain
    my mind refuses to address.

    Three more days to go.
    Come and don't come.

    Untitled 12

    White against blue in a vast expanse of empty beauty,
    it flies, carrying mockingly, my hopes.
    Dreamless and carefree,
    the head is held high-- condescendingly.
    The breeze that scars my face
    smoothly lifts the wings majestically.
    Do not err little one, for I am a menace.
    Angst ridden youth!

    You hunger for life, I see.
    Here, 'tis life I hold in these acrid palms.
    rhythmically, selfishly wallowing in the delight of
    I am an angst ridden youth I say.
    I shall devour you!
    Eat, eat, eat!

    I am one and the same--

  13. #433
    Untitled 66

    Refreshingly, annoyingly, a patient dissonance of paradoxes,
    he seeped through sheets of shattered glittering glasses.
    His life, awakened in short lapses of intermittent drudgery.
    Hello fool, these are the little nuances of my so-called life;
    behold the beauty in discordance.

    Confusion shaped like perfection--
    Annoyance shaped like a golden stool--
    Pitying and feigning regard for the rocks
    I step on to the reach the clouds of pathetic
    exaltations of thine holy brother--
    On whose name I spit disgraceful bouts of repeated
    egalitarian hogwash
    I want to wipe a horse’s ass with.

    Paradoxical brilliance in the capricious distaste of a cold summer day;
    irrefutably perplexing!
    Last edited by thefountainhed; 04-27-04 at 02:17 AM.

  14. #434
    Untitled 147

    Today, I found hell.
    It is a darkness so light, I can read my palm if I squinted.
    It is a lightness so dark, I cannot read the signs that lead out of it.
    It is not the proverbial hole in the ground nor that in the sky.
    It screams that I call it a friend and whispers it ismy enemy.
    No contradictions exist.
    I do not fear it, although it is hell bent on mydestruction.
    I can kill it whenever I choose.
    And when I choose, I shall clubber it with bouts of self-righteous indignation!
    I will rip the eyes out of the dark sockets where eyes belong,
    rip its tongue and feed it,
    handcuff the steel arms that cage me, and swat it away like a fly!
    I cannot do it even if I choose,
    It screams and it whispers to me.
    I scream and whisper to myself.
    Today, I found hell.
    It is tasteless, toothless, and soulless, but begs for mercy.
    It is a stake driven through my heart that I pull out
    every fortnight only to discover I have a hundred others hearts staked.
    It lies abound, but I have infinite energy!
    I can run ten miles without losing a breath!
    I am Einstein and Shakespeare combined in an undecipherable maze
    of conflicted egos and protracted periods
    of self-defeating, self-discovering trips.
    You hate both sides.
    It screams and whispers to me!
    Why won’t it shut up!
    Today, I found hell.
    It is a demon in my likeness.
    It is a dragon breathing out odorless liquid all over
    I am sanctified.
    Today, I found hell.
    It is self inflicted.

    A gift for delineating my favorite beauty

    And always there is the constant waiting—simply
    waiting for nothing to happen and yet for something to
    happen. In sleep we deserve all the nonsense that we
    dream of, because it is by our very inaction that
    enables us to wander into such idiocy.

    Do not label me, you nitwits!
    I was my own self in my selfless dreams of witless
    debauchery whilst you laughed your fucking ass off.

    Do not shout nameless insults of demented fools at me!

    It is not without distaste that I will wallow in
    self-ineptness. Sure, I have made some ignorant
    choices along the way towards the pathetic grooming of
    the holy ego, which is mine.

    Ha ha ha.
    Upstart of repeated nonsense?. Watch me wallow.
    Last edited by thefountainhed; 04-27-04 at 02:13 AM.

  15. #435
    untitled 6

    I meant nothing by it,
    and yet I meant everything by it.
    It wasn't a moment in time worth remembering--
    for it was a moment in time to be remembered.

    Velvety smoothness prolongs the warmth of touch.
    Misplaced confidence in touch leads to the brusque.
    Sanguinity in the face of apprehension leads to ....
    Brevity: I lie, I dislike, and prolong.

    Spontaneity lost in the habitual.
    Moment lost.
    And yet I meant everything by it.
    Like I said, a moment in time not worth

    Untitled 2

    Fleeting lights of listlessness,
    mingled in red lights of idleness.
    Blue lights of decadence--
    Yellow lights of leisure.

    Confused masses of brown
    littered amongst idle masses of pink
    A solitary figure in black
    sinking in a ruptuous cacophony of decadence.
    Warmth, travelling down alleyways
    of scattered, dismembered beauty.

    A solitary figure in black
    leisurely breathing in careless concotions
    of redolence.
    Careless masses of lost souls.
    Losing a soul...
    Consciousness of dull repetitiveness.

    Innocence lost...
    Innocence gained.

    Fleeting lights of confusion---
    Seeping further into deliberate torture.
    A thought, a sound.
    A solitary figure in black,
    sinking into an byss of dark, fearless fears.

    Flesh on flesh, hair on hair.
    Lights of purpose
    travelling down blinding alleyways.

    Intermingled in confused, fleeting masses of pain.

    A solitary figure in black sinking...

  16. #436

    Chapter 0

    As the spot blurred did my vision of what was to come.
    What am I
    But an ant fleeing from the hovering foot destined to squish it?
    The realization of the coming did not caused my flight—
    My welcoming of the foot caused my fright—
    And my flight.
    My aim, no more deterred
    By her grapping of empty air,
    Her embrace of herself in the loss of warmth,
    Or the murmur of displeasure in a sleep disturbed.
    I had to run.
    The feet may come, will come,
    But this insignificant beast will surely run.
    And into the car, into the returning dark and heat, went I,
    And into the foreboding opening by the bay, sped I,
    And into the misty water, guarded by the cold, jumped I,
    And with relief did I welcome the sudden pain of my impact.

  17. #437
    Ferment and the King of Infamy

    the screams of christendom rapes the air of it's innocence,
    christian blood on my altar, i stand resplendent,
    a tyrant of a blood red robe hounding the faithful,
    desire in violence reaching an overture of infinity,
    so cries the raven that marks the opulent lethargy of sex
    infernal devices bringing a paradigm shift in thought.
    lovely lovely children,
    play with me, drink my blood and feed yourself,
    become the beyond children, sexless and paranoid.
    i am the masque of the red death that entrances the faithless,
    the beast in the cave yells out in hunger,
    the thirst of the faithful needs to be satisfied.
    before the peace and nightmare, shackle the guileless senility.

    'usurer!', cry the fools who decry me,
    do they not see the yawning death that greets them in my absence?
    i save their piteous hides,
    i am above all and beyond all... i am the culmination of the beyond man!
    come come beautiful Aria,
    and prepare the funeral chamber,
    Hope must be given a fitting send off.

  18. #438
    The insignificant beast stands
    on his whimsical throne--
    sings it, self inflicted praises and ceaseless kowtows in the hope of an admirier.
    It rears its head and roars--
    the disdain of the world seemingly impenetrable to his many faces.
    I stand, watch--
    washed with the serenity of a warrior circling
    the carcass of a would-be killer morphed into a nebbish.
    Oh ye menial fool,
    Your destiny did you incur--
    imaging as a pompous fool.
    My wrath did you indebt--
    prancing as a bitch in heat.
    Your heart shall I devour—
    Relishing I, in its distaste.
    So, in your endless meanderings as a leper,
    living off the scraps thrown ye--
    all with wistful sighs
    on the dirty servant smiling your way,
    you emerge seeking a coterie--
    Mercy from I?
    Nay, I shall further twist the fork in this peace.

  19. #439
    //Avatar laughs together with gendanken
    A southern clime descends upon this hole with Gendanken, and with it hints of laughter...


    Surely, through the many other threads and PMs, you two-- Xev, Gendanken can shower me with your all praise... Keep the thread for what's its for-- poetry, even if you think it "goth" or awful....
    That being so- an Ode to Miscreant Poets, its no secret I find your "poetry" laughable:

    Up the airy mountains and down the rushing glen
    A Wonkish girl stirs mischief with the fountains of her pen
    Oh wily wise, that merry dear
    forsooth a wrath divine
    How now merrymakers, can she slew a filthy swine?

    (here's how)

    Look now that preposterous verse, those words of unschooled brutes!
    that given righteous melody would kill both lyre and lute
    A scourge you are, good sir!
    The unfettered bollocks on your person to dare ejaculate such prose
    Ope thine eyes and learn the art, low one
    From a master gods have chose

    Verse when given pulse by words should burn with ghastly joy
    not the mummeries of ghettos nor the oinkings known to boys
    It should flip and dance a careless prance
    that on frozen hearts of Vandals eat, the poison-ed softly siege
    All of this a few will learn and far fewer for presitge

    But lo! The insolence of an unschooled pig with clumsy bulk of poesy
    wordy nightmares now undwind!
    Salted vipers! Visual herpes!
    Cannot Minverva breathe new life into the cinders of pork rind?
    She may do so line by line.
    Last edited by gendanken; 04-27-04 at 07:44 PM.

  20. #440
    smoking revolver
    [Middle Ages Pygmalion's Romance song]

    Shake me down your body
    like a raindrop, like sweat,
    I'm chained to your fires
    in a dragon's cave.

    I asked the devil once:
    would he show me my dream,
    and as I saw it,
    I gave away my soul to him.

    Oh, my pain
    that greek gods are dead
    and your marble lips
    as chilly as my sin.

    Now I'm banned from my god
    and banned from the heaven,
    I'm banned from your love
    and the joy of life.

    I want no forgivness
    I plea - you smile
    just once before I die.

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