Thread: A Poem Thread

  1. #621
    Save the whales motherfucker sargentlard's Avatar
    Past time

    smokin a blunt....yeah smokin the weed
    im smokin the blunt....yeah im supportin a weave
    findlin the doobie...yeah im about to heave

    hittin Mary Jane...yeah hittin her nice
    cannibis my friend.....attiva my vice
    lazy sunday yeah.....sunny 2'0 clock
    im the only one weezin on my block

    yeah im smoking a blunt.....alone and bored

    smokin a blunt yeah peaceful and nice.

  2. #622
    smoking revolver
    A ballad

    She rode on a monster,
    she rode on a star
    shining every night
    when she smiled.

    A princess in black, a princess in white,
    just look at her dreams!
    ever changing and ever riding
    through the skies of paradise,
    of the world of the mortals and hell.

    She's a princess in fires, she's a princess in ice
    sitting on a rose
    and weeping and laughing,
    tearing her hand open for blood to flow
    to the earth, to your heart -
    she lay still and cried.

    You went mad, you went ill,
    you became her prince
    swinging in gallows,
    rotting in meadows full of flowers.

    The truth is she couldn't love,
    she couldn't understand
    what's so special in human beings
    when there are roses, dragons
    and the sun.

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 08-30-04 at 08:27 PM.

  3. #623
    smoking revolver
    1. she was an icecream,
    she was..,
    she was needed this summer,
    but when it started to rain
    people wanted to lick
    something else.

    2. she was a pill,
    she saved a lot of men,
    but they were no chemists,
    they were no doctors,
    she wasn't understood
    and was left alone.

    3. she was a cardboard box
    wrapped in silk, fancy cloth,
    she was sleeping under a fir tree
    and waiting for the magic moment
    to come,
    but the fiest was not needed

    4. she was a spring flower,
    she was a sun
    of her own
    and didn't need

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 08-31-04 at 10:15 PM.

  4. #624
    Our Land

    A suited man, waiting in a queue
    Slowly tapping his fingers on his stick
    The other hand on his belt, feeling his gun
    His lips are rapidly moving
    The government has no clue, he says
    People have work to do, he explains
    Two more hired cashiers eases the wait, he tells
    And between each delivered thought,
    The pocket check…
    Yes, it’s bulging
    Yes, the package retains its weight

    A family man, suited, waiting in a queue
    His tapping fingers trail his tapping feet
    His forehead dampens with each passing minute
    My family, he tells himself, needs it
    The other man, he says to himself, had money to burn
    My son, he justifies, deserves the best education
    I haven’t had a good drink in quite a while…
    And between thoughts to the self,
    The smile on his face as he delivers his lines
    Belie the anxiety in his wait for the good drink.

    A suited family man counting his bills,
    A cashier ignoring the gold band in her flirtatious
    Smile and hand caresses at the man with the bulging package
    An understanding man with a show of sympathy
    An understanding cashier in a show of acknowledgement:
    Yes, the bloody government has no clue; two more cashiers eases…

  5. #625
    You’ve worked 9 to 5,
    Twenty years and counting
    Own a big house and a vacation home,
    Five years to truly own
    Owned five cars in total,
    All new, three of which you are driving

    You’ve hated our job,
    Twenty years and counting
    Hated your boss,
    Fifteen years and counting
    Been promoted ten times
    Passed over thrice for a bum

    You’ve been on twenty vacations,
    Acted the same on each one
    Tried a hundred delicacies,
    Sprinkled a like amount of salt one each one
    Fucked five women in the twenty years,
    Four of which were prostitutes

    You are timid
    You are insane
    You are content
    You are fat

    You are hardworking
    You are responsible
    You are docile
    A calendar on legs

    And still you wonder why the fuck I can’t be like you.
    Here’s a warm bullet!
    Say hello to Christ when you see him for me, shall you?

  6. #626
    smoking revolver
    Three nights and three days
    I crawled through the streets
    and water and trash
    were my pillow and bed.

    Three nights and three dreams
    did a bite in my cheeks
    and all my blood and memory
    spilled through the swelling wells.

    Ah, the sweat, the smell,
    the dirty cats on their knees
    pleading I leave!

    And I crawled and crawled
    and dared not to sleep
    three weeks and seven more steps
    till I crawled back under my sheet.

    And all this crawling
    from great heights
    looked like a drawing in dirty sand
    pointing a finger at the sky.

    It whispered, it laughed,
    it assured, it mourned
    it kissed without a choice:
    you're next!

    © 2004 by Avatar

  7. #627
    Valued Senior Member river-wind's Avatar
    there are some very good, and some very bad poems here
    below are three of mine, two I just tossed together, one I wrote a couple months ago, and have edited a few times.

    East and west touch
    wrap together the center
    revolve and keep turning
    disapointment to ruin.
    Momentus, this moment.

    grey soup blanket
    with chunks of solid colors.
    you can only keep yourself
    whole and understanding
    for a short time.

    we fall out of ourselves, we find those around us;
    here we have created universes
    here was have destroyed them all
    here I birth a new world, cut off and purposely seperatist
    here I birth the next world.

    I do not compare, I do not relive; though I drink.
    I am not going to try and change you, for I might as well ask a bush to walk for me.
    I will instead teach, and wait for you to fall. Once you do, I will step in.
    I am not hoping for that day, indeed I hope against it, but it will come. Just as my day to fall will likewise come.

    I expect you to provide a child to replace me.


    Trees bonzaied
    sprout sunshine branches
    uncared for


    Poem for the Ancient Cultures

    For the Terosn and Unistan
    the Great Song was Sung
    of fallen leaves
    and flakes freed
    by branch legions bared.
    The earth heard, as it had done.

    Of clouds from which rain flung
    saplings grown tall
    and new shoots sprung
    from moist marl between rocky fare.
    The sky listened, as it had done.

    The passage of time, as if begun
    anew with societies creation make,
    dwindles in the eve
    the sun to brake and aware.
    While the stars set, as they had done.

    The fight passed crown
    their hatred cooled memories ache,
    lying still and stunned
    forsaken now both declared
    In children and stories, as they have done.

    For the Terosn and Unistan
    the Great Song was Sung
    carving a path to follow
    as the path they follow runs.

  8. #628
    smoking revolver
    ]a chant for the new generation of the sick[

    Come, little children,
    come with me,
    let us go out,
    let us leave.

    Ah, there she is
    lying on her back,
    like a dirty chocolate
    she is sweet,
    but nobody wants
    to touch her skin.

    Come, you little girls,
    let us rip
    heads from the dools
    and people from their toys.

    Poison on her lips,
    she touches and you feel sick;
    like a mirror, like a shrug
    her laughter echoes in your screams.

    There he is,
    self proclaimed antichrist
    sulking in the dark
    like a wanting kiss,
    but the faithful
    slap his wrists
    and point with fingers to a cross.

    Come, you little boys,
    and join with me,
    let us build dungeons
    and torture chambers deep.

    Come, little children,
    come with me,
    let us have fun
    in eternal darkness with me.

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 09-10-04 at 01:07 AM.

  9. #629
    smoking revolver
    How many seals
    before you stop,
    how many dreams
    before you rot,
    how much more
    can you stay with me
    with your sanity

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 09-09-04 at 04:52 PM.

  10. #630
    Registered Member
    I walked among some trees and grass,
    and shadows played their games
    on my pale flesh, on my white dress.

    I saw a mountain rushing forth.
    'Twas small, grew big and black
    until it was a man.

    His rags, his locks,
    all moved with wind,
    and sunshine flickered in grey sparks
    on his stone face.

    He glanced at me
    and rushed away.
    Last edited by volk; 09-09-04 at 11:02 PM.

  11. #631
    Wow, there's some really good stuff in here. Need to visit more often. Hey avatar, what language is that? Anyway, here's what I've been doing recently:

    White Tower

    Sittin in your tower,
    thinkin your so powerful.
    Guess what you're wrong.
    Dead wrong.
    And I'll tell ya in this song
    just what it's all about.
    No need to shout,
    no need to raise voices
    'cause we got choices.
    Forks and branches,
    we got chances
    to take a new road.
    A new path,
    a new track
    away from the aftermath
    of your mistakes.
    The countless breaks
    and fractures
    that you caused
    in the path for peace
    in the middle east.
    And elswhere,
    and everywhere
    that you touch.
    'Cause it's not enough
    that you kill.
    You have to still
    the very heart of the people
    and raise your steeple
    and praise your god.
    But your a fraud.
    And now we're findin out
    all about
    your ties to terror.
    You fuckin' lie bearer.
    Never got elected in the first place.
    Now it's time to face the facts.
    We don't want you back.
    So pack your bags
    and get the fuck outta the White House.
    Rather have a soiled blouse
    than dead Americans.
    Dead friends and family,
    so much tragedy.
    I'm tired of the blood for oil.
    War spoils
    and we toil,
    all for Bush's boy-o.
    Well fuck it,
    flip the bucket,
    spill the milk.
    Don't cry
    over politician's lies.
    Just learn to vote.

  12. #632
    smoking revolver
    that is russian. the poem is nothing special really. my russian vocabulary is quite incomplete. I can translate it later for you if you wish.

    I drink flowers
    I feel fine

    I lied
    I fall
    I'm gona die

    I don't stretch my arms
    I don't even try to cry

    I lied
    I drink flowers
    I feel fine

    I am dead
    I am the night
    I touch my lips
    And my fingers cover with snow

    © 2004 by Avatar

  13. #633
    smoking revolver

  14. #634
    smoking revolver
    I didn't turn your fire into stone,
    I didn't put that knife
    beside your pillow,
    no I didn't, I didn't
    cry that night,
    I wasn't even there.

    I'm sorry I wasn't,
    I should have been
    to pick up all the broken pieces
    and kiss them together in fire
    in the image of gods.

    I'm sorry, I wasn't,
    I was too weak,
    I was weeping in my bed
    and was carving it
    into a grave.

    Can we go back,
    can we return,
    please tell me you are sure
    you can still be cured.

    Every cell in my blood
    will fight this illness together with you,
    and I shall stand once more
    and observe your shining eyes,
    observe your blazing smile
    under the funeral moon
    where all die,
    but not us, we live!

    © 2004 by Avatar

  15. #635
    smoking revolver

    Knights and cravens
    Meet in battle;
    Knights are fearful,
    Knights are faithful.

    The God and the Church,
    Holy ritual is strong;
    Bliss from the Heaven and bliss from the heart -
    Pagans scatter and run.

    In the name of our Father
    We slay
    And bring justice and light
    To this land.

    Written by Avatar circa 1222 a.d

  16. #636
    Will you wish for me
    a cold eternity?
    Will you say goodbye
    and leave me here to die?
    Will you take my heart
    before you let this start?
    Or will I fuck this up
    by saying it's enough
    for us just to be friends
    when I know I can't spend
    all of my lonely time
    waiting for you to climb
    into this cold bed
    and kiss me on the head
    and say you love me too?

  17. #637
    smoking revolver
    The path of the kings,
    The path of the lords,
    The path of the emperors
    And the slaves.

    The path of the sun,
    The path of the stars,
    The path of the sea
    And the fish.

    The path of the gods,
    The path of the wind,
    The path of the demons
    And the trolls.

    Look at yourself
    And choose your path,
    Look at youself
    And be aware of those
    Who cross your path.

    Is it the sea
    Or is it a slave,
    Or a god?..
    Beware of their path.

  18. #638
    smoking revolver
    she lay hidden,
    she lay secret,
    she lay not knowing her name
    below the sand,
    and the songs of the birds
    were flying over her head.

    she was a whisper of flowers
    wanting to be,
    wanting to see all the meadows and trees
    which the bees chanted of
    every time,
    each time the sun was prime.

    she lay alone
    dreaming her world
    of magical hills
    and pixies and gods mating on the leaves.

    she needed a human
    to find her place,
    to name her face,
    to give her a sound of her own
    she could call out of the ground.

    © 2004 by Avatar

  19. #639
    smoking revolver
    [one more poem after some time devoted to IRA]

    Dogs dig bones,
    I dig guns,
    we hide what we need
    for life,
    for heavens to come
    to the earth, to our world,
    my room on the 4th floor.

    It's a bliss,
    just a small,
    but a bliss

    Last bullet in the magazine,
    and it's empty of life.

    Someone takes, someone dies
    and my gun
    brings a little more
    of paradise.

    © 2004 by Avatar

  20. #640
    Registered Senior Member
    Briefly, we live, briefly,
    then die. Wherefore, I
    he who hunts glory, he
    who tracks
    some boundless,
    superhuman dream
    may lose his harvest
    here and now
    and garner death. Such
    men are mad. (Bacchae)

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