Thread: A Poem Thread

  1. #641
    Registered Senior Member
    On the black and calm wave where the stars Sleep
    White Ophelia floats like a giant lilly,
    Floats very slowly, asleep in her long veils...
    ..You hear hunting calls far off in the woods"
    ~~Ophelia, -Arthur Rimbaud

  2. #642
    smoking revolver
    The people of today,
    The people of tommorow,
    What are your joys and sorrows?;
    Same taste same bleakness in the blood,
    Same rotting brain in the cup!

    Where went the Sun,
    Where went the Death
    That your steps and echoes are now
    Roaming free?;
    Zombies ruling the fields
    Where once great battles and wicked deeds were made.

    The forger in the myth is dead
    And his pets are making
    Blood into sand
    And vicotry into silent

  3. #643
    Why talk? When you can listen? A Canadian's Avatar
    I write this so called poem off the top of my head:

    Loney, Sad, Sick
    Easy to be happy
    But hard to achive
    Like a flower,
    Happiness dies quick.
    Always happy,
    but never true.
    Dead, with a smile on your face.

    ... what...? it's a poem!!

  4. #644
    smoking revolver
    I have nothing to fear
    because noone is here,
    this mansion and these walls
    all around me like skin
    of a dead person on ice,
    and my words don't reach it outside
    just echo in the halls
    with bats and the screams
    from the days when the hope
    was alive
    and the wounds bled all night.

    All is chains, all is bricks
    and stones on the floor,
    all is forsaken for years:
    no memory of trees,
    no of natural light
    and the dreams I once had.

    The windows - all shut
    just my bookshelves and my light:
    a candle burning mad
    in red lights with black smoke
    talking with the shadows
    dancing on my lips.

    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 10-01-04 at 06:16 PM.

  5. #645
    The Pure White Snow

    I think I feel.
    I think I know.
    I think I miss
    the pure white snow
    that once fell softly
    on my skin.
    And reminded me
    what was in
    my heart that I
    had hid away
    from everyone.
    Until the day
    the pure white snow
    came falling down.
    It left no trace
    and made no sound.
    And yet it changed
    everything in me.
    The pure white snow,
    it set me free.

  6. #646
    smoking revolver

    © 2004 by Avatar

  7. #647
    smoking revolver
    The knights will return,
    Oh yes, they'll come,
    The knights'll eat your little son!

    They'll make him into a slave
    With rust and chains,
    He'll become a soldier new!

    The witches shall burn;
    Oh yes, she'll burn,
    your beautiful wife
    will perish in God's name!

    You bones will shatter,
    your tombstone will mutter
    like an insane, old woman!

    The priests shall snigger,
    They will linger
    At the flaming ruins of your land!

    © 2004 by Avatar

  8. #648
    smoking revolver
    chains chains chains chains chains chains chains
    chains You shall not stand your ground! chains
    chains You shall not become alive! chains
    chains You shall not become a sign! chains
    chains chains chains chains chains chains chains

    © 2004 by Avatar

  9. #649
    smoking revolver
    Another one of my poems devoted to IRA

    A child is dead when a child is born,
    a war is declared in its blood -
    the cause of life and death.

    A war is declared in all the fronts
    and his countrymen and enemies
    grab and tear him apart.

    Choose the side!!

    Needles penetrate her eyes
    and dirty liquid flows inside -
    filth of the people and the centuries of past

    Clean your gun!!

    Happy birthday!,
    the cake holds sixteen grenades,
    we are proud - your family,
    now go!

    Ready! shoot! run!

    The police and the queen
    load their guns,
    roadblocks appear,
    smoke clears
    and a new generation is born
    from the death
    of fellow men.

    You can not help them anymore..

    Hate spawns the proud,
    it shines in gold;
    hate kills the child,
    it makes you old.

    Cá bhfuil tú ag dul, a shaighdiúr? *

    Patch your wounds in secrecy
    and stand up
    tall and strong above the bombs,
    their demands!

    Ná héist leo! **

    © 2004 by Avatar

    * Where are you heading, soldier? (Irish Gaelic)
    ** Don't listen to them! (Irish Gaelic)

    p.s. Many thanks to the folks at the forum
    who were so kind and translated those two sentences for me!
    Last edited by Avatar; 10-04-04 at 09:09 AM.

  10. #650
    returns occasionally... Starthane Xyzth's Avatar
    An old musing of mine, about the planet Jupiter.


    The mightiest of planets known
    Has no ground, no sea, no land;
    No stony peaks, no vales between,
    No waters, nor a sandy strand.
    Carmine, cream and jasper clouds
    With profuse shades beside;
    To the south, most brazen
    Spins the worlds-wide crimson eye.

    Hyper-potent tempests rule:
    Lightnings that could light a nation;
    Winds with force like none on Earth,
    Calm might seem a vitiation.
    In ten hours this vast world spins,
    Winds are not by landforms slowed,
    Deep-born fires drive them swifter,
    Storm-belts circle round the globe.

    Hurricane-spun layers of clouds
    For untold miles are plunging cliffs;
    Reds above so vivid-lit,
    Are dusky brown in Sunless depths.
    Freezing heights, but torrid abyss -
    A steam-layer seethes, in dark miasma,
    Chemistries run wild, far down
    Through scores of sequent vaporous strata.

    There at last, the sky may end
    (In no plain boundary, nowhere sharp),
    But under monstrous pressures, air
    Is forced to fluid, churning dark.
    Further still this vast descends,
    So far down, ever hotter, dense;
    The Jovian sky - though deep it be -
    Is but a gauze, on depths immense.

  11. #651
    I'm working on a book ok well it's been in the works a very long time and I wouldn't consider it a book that tells a story in the way most people are used to. I tried that and it was insanely crappy. But this is the opening to it so far.

    Introduction to Revelations Within My Mind by MagiAwen

    For days I sit and wait
    For another thought
    Perhaps a revelation
    To force what should come naturally

    A feeling to stir inside me
    Words wanting to come out
    But what words and when
    And why I wonder at times

    Wait and sit
    No thoughts coming to mind
    Tears and fears stirring
    Listening to my soul

    Then it comes with no warning
    Thoughts flicker
    Dreams shimmer in the corners of my mind
    Frantically calling to be heard.

    On a journey you notice
    That which no one may
    Some that others cannot see
    To be aware of what and when and continually ask why

    To search for explanations
    Is to be a fool

    To have a free mind
    To have an open heart
    To search for understanding and acceptance
    That is the goal within myself.

    I do not know an answer
    To what questions you may pose
    What wonders may be brought with suggestion
    Thoughts that bring revelation to the mind

    What comes to mind
    Turned over in thoughts
    Expressed on paper
    As fluent as I am able.

    The question unanswered
    From where does it come?
    A sleepless mind it may be
    Love, life, woes, and experience

    I am not a painter,
    My sketches are sad
    To pat a pot of clay
    Is nothing I can do

    I tried to write a book
    But- my plot was weak
    I do my best at poems
    Showing my immaturity

    It's an odd thing
    But I feel an art just the same
    Thought weaving I call it
    For lack of anything else

    For you to see my words
    And open your mind.
    © 1990-2004

  12. #652
    smoking revolver

    This is a ritual to a dream,
    this is a call to feel,
    this is a ritual in a dream,
    this is a whisper to be.

    possesed, possesed,
    possesed be
    by the spirits and the ancients of this creek,
    possesed, possesed,
    possesed dream
    how created was this creek.

    your eyes become older
    than the trees in this field
    and your visions are rising
    from the bones below your feet,
    they are buried deep beyond sight,
    beyond memory of the alive.

    possesed, possesed,
    possesed be
    by the spirits and the ancients of this creek,
    possesed, possesed,
    possesed dream
    how created was this creek.

    first were the gods,
    then was the sun,
    but before them was a leaf
    sailing in this creek.

    then came the earth and the men,
    they all were looking at the creek
    and the poets sung and the women cried
    at the the beauty of this creek.

    and there was plague and there was blood,
    and there was death swinging its blade,
    but nothing could change the waters of this creek.

    the song becomes ancient,
    there are no words
    just the radiance of that feeling
    which created this creek.


    © 2004 by Avatar
    Last edited by Avatar; 10-09-04 at 08:16 PM.

  13. #653

    Upon Waking.
    Wintery chill of November air I feel slowing breathing in
    Wonderous white sky of morning
    Dim figures lit by the bright fading sunlight
    Shadowed by clouds

    Steam rising off the pillow as day begins
    Blankets stiff with frost crackling to fold
    Moist breath from the beasts
    Leaves mists hanging in limbo

    Cold leather creaks
    Metal soft sounds in the snow
    Sighs, groans, sounds of morning coming to ear
    Packed and awake the journey continues.

    © 1990-2004 MagiAwen

  14. #654
    The sheperd watches,
    the sheep do not stray.
    Everything wanders
    and days slip away.
    The sheperd is sleeping,
    the sheep do not leave.
    Everyone ponders
    what's up his sleeve.
    The sheperd is dead,
    the sheep are all gone.
    A wolf slipped in
    in a sheepskin he donned.
    The sheep had a chance
    to all run away,
    but instead sat there thinking
    and never once strayed.

  15. #655
    ......................... ..... Quigly's Avatar
    Will my thoughts were a voice, endless prattle would I speak.
    Unintelligble to the righteous, disseminate leader of the weak.

    Will my prattle were intelligible, endless wisdom I would speak,
    Unintelligible to the immoral, disseminate leader of the week.


  16. #656
    She walks with a tortured soul
    Vacant eyes that look but do not see
    The past streaming back to her so often it is the now
    Reality vanishes
    Her reality now is her torturous mind
    Memories are meant to fade, meant to heal........
    Meant...what is meant...easy to say
    What is meant to be most often is not reality
    She lives among horrors we will never know
    And she may never realize
    There's a demon around every corner
    Beasts ugly and vile in every alley
    A murderer, rapist, addict in every man she sees
    For she seees only one man....the man that was like a god to the child of 4 years
    To the child that was lost....who died within her
    Scars on her face, arms, stomach, and back......
    Do not begin to tell the amount of pain and suffering she still endures
    Also as I cannot begin to scratch the surface of her sorrow
    For some things there are no words that can fully describe
    For her, I cry......

    © 1990-2004 MagiAwen

  17. #657
    How much pain I do feel that is not my own....
    Not my experience, not my creation
    No imagination do I have for such things.

    Waves cover me like the beach at tide....
    Of anguish and fear
    Sorrow, horrible memories that I know
    Are not mine....

    Empathy may be a gift to some
    Compassion may come naturally
    But this...this is something I don't know what to call.....

    © 1990-2004 MagiAwen

  18. #658

    Whisper sweet nothings.
    Open my mind.
    Tell me I'm something,
    I'm one of a kind.
    Make me feel special.
    Make me feel real.
    Tell me I'm god.
    I'm the real deal.
    Call me your master
    and I'll be your slave.
    Say "fuck me faster"
    and I'll give what you crave.
    I'll tie you up
    and be in the palm of your hand.
    Then I'll fuck you until
    neither of us can stand.
    The cuffs are real cute
    but rope is much better.
    My god I'm so hard,
    and you've never looked wetter.
    Let's go to paradise,
    I'll drive all the way.
    Deep into heaven,
    you're such a great lay.
    And when we are done
    I'll undo the knots.
    We'll lie exhausted
    in our little cot.
    You'll say "I love you"
    and I'll say I know.
    And the webcam will say
    we gave a great show.

  19. #659
    Hello Babes
    With the same heart, I share my love and hurt
    My lips, giving with their soft, loving touches
    Shall make your bosom a salted wetness
    Is it really so complicated, this mesh of neurons?
    Now here, then there
    Forever in search of your love,
    Endlessly seeking a futile freedom
    At once sharing in a loving embrace
    And irking from commitment’s preface
    Perhaps the beauty in a blowing leaf is where next?
    But its end is always down
    So hello babes, let’s make the best of it.

  20. #660

    Trapped I am in this my dream.
    What is this reality?
    Am I walking a pathway unseen
    the same roads of eternity.

    What hides within the whispering shadows
    darkened tendrils caressing my skin
    madness beckons from creaking gallows
    putrifying flesh decaying within.

    Life growing, swarming within the death
    eyes now unseeing loll on pallid cheeks
    a million living creatures take a breath
    as the wooden timber in the breeze creaks.

    To attack again in their ferocious hunger
    a darkened cloud tinged with red
    the aged dying replaced by the younger
    a new circle of life being bred.

    Eating from the body hanging bare
    noose drawn tight round a neck broken
    did anyone in this world ever care
    for a lonely boy who had never spoken.

    An outcast taunted by his peers
    surviving on the scraps of others
    he would never show anyone his tears
    fellow men were never his brothers.

    His day was night when men slept
    free to walk the silent streets
    it was then that his body wept
    stumbling along on his aching feet.

    Then he came across the silent entity
    a mannequin lying on the ground
    he knelt beside her feeling pity
    unable to utter a single sound.

    His hand touched the pliant mask
    pulling away, hand now coloured red
    knowing that he could never ask
    if this was a person lying dead.

    He ran from one as quiet as he
    to hide from the now rising sun
    each day being plagued by misery
    as the hunt had now begun.

    Dragged from the shadows of his lair
    kicked and beaten to the ground
    hung without trial and no-one to care
    because blood on his clothes was found.

    Yet it is I who can find no rest
    watching feet dangle in the sun
    for that lolling eye shows detest
    to a father who betrayed his only son.

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