A Poem Thread

(I wrote these in anger. I will continue to add more stanzas, every single time I'm furious. It will be a long book when I'm done.)

Rip me jagged
Paint me red
Cut myself until I'm dead.

Blood like rapids, overflow!
Caress the crimson blossom, grow!
I might have ripped the first few lines from a song....I don't remember if I did or not.
Slipping time,
So far off
Time to remember,
What we lost.
One day's time
Is just enough,
But I can't remember,
What was lost.
The Blood, The Booms...The pressure, The gun's grooves

I felt pain like it was my lover,
But my pride still stands
While we take cover.
In a moment or sooner,
I'll take from this Earth,
Another brother's dreams
That I was told were tarnished.

He'll be lying in the river, soaking up the earth
What's the point of giving life,
When you decide to execute the curse?

Slipping time
So far off.
It seems like a canyon
And a stone thrown off.

Copyright 2001
Beliefs and where you should keep them.

Time-wise, I can't tell of the muderous dangers that betray me to a "dead" hell.
A place where light, the sole life of the world, can't penetrate the iron walls of my cell.
Molten metal drips from the ominous equipment, they hang in the sky like the extreme gears in my mind.
My place after life, a place tranquil but absurd because of my confusion.
It's peaceful because there's nothing to hear, you've never experienced something without your senses, the confusion builds.
The machine's equipment, corrupt to me, doesn't stop, but in the same sense it protects me.

In the world you can see, but can't be....anything other than a soul in a sphere.
Your locked to a pretense determined because you are an heir.
Your responsibility to the people, your brothers and sisters; you need to feed them with your know-how.
Food for thought. And your time to think unveils the next place where you believe you'll take space...in your after-life.
The beauty, the light, the fusion of you mind.

Sparks carry far, they can ignite a whole night, they give light to your "dead" hell,
the place that spells danger and pain, and the time of place.
Your hatred shouldn't be able to penetrate the iron walls of anyone's cell.

Your beliefs should remain in your "dead" hell.
Will You Miss Me?

Will you miss when I am gone?
Dead and buried with nothing on.
Do you think of me in any way?
Or just when you are needing to play?

I cannot tell, your day is like my night.
I'm an after thought and that ain’t right.
A mere spot, a droplet of invisible ink.
Have I got it right? What do you think?

I am fading away but you're blind, you don’t see.
You say get a prayer, get laid, or maybe a movie.
You want me yet you push me farther away.
You try to tell me what to do and that's not ok.

Too bad you never see that I cry.
Too bad you never see your lies.
Too bad we are on the road to destruction.
Too bad we are fighting and fussing.

You don’t have a clue as to the things you do.
If you are not careful it will all come back to you.
So I ask, will you miss me when I am gone?
Dead and buried with no clothes on.

New song of Bob Marley DISCOVERED

Rasta Mon - a new Regae song

Smokin herb
singin for da people
Rasta mon
sings da redemption song
Like words beneath a steeple
Da road to freedoms long.
If you're strong or feeble
sing before we're gone.

300 years ago
Arabs sold the slaves.
Africa divided
white man reaped da gold.
W is a traitor
a rich man we are told.
How'd he help da people?
They were lied to and sold.

Brother against brother
Is what the Man counts on
When we are together
All his power's gone

Love your child and free em
To reap what they can sow
If you want your freedom
Its all in what you know

Some say Ragea's done
Hip Hop thinks it flows
long on hate and short on fun
Our singers come and go
but none outrun the gun
Our songs are sung by ghosts
they melt like ice out in the sun

US rules, Africa fades
Half of Cape town
now dies of Aids
buried in da ground.
buried in ignorance
of who put them down.

kill who they wanna.
Now they think
disease is the way
If they smoked mariquana
there'd be peace today.

You've got to tell your neighbor
There is a message we must send...
Brother against brother
Is what the Man counts on
When we are together
All his power's gone

Freedom needs compassion
Dats why we smoke da herb
When freedom is rationed
Your life becomes absurd

We're not the infidel
We're not the enemy
We are just the people
We are you, you are me.

all words and music by don hakman 2002
(don't smoke myself - dis ones for Bob)
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Ben seni sevdim mi?

Sevdim elbette

Tac ettim aldim basima koydum.

Guller getirdim sana cennetin gul bahcelerinden

Gonlumde bir taht kurdum, yillar boyu oturacagim.

Ben seni sevdim mi?

Sevdim oyle ki;

Yildizlari indirdim semadan ayaklarimin altina.

Cimenler yerlestirdim bastigim kuru topraklara.

Bir yer actim sevgine.

Kalbimin en hucra kosesinde.

Masmavi gokyuzu, beyaz bulutlar!

Indirdim gunesi tum sicakligiyla verdim avuclarina

Geceyi gunduz ettim karanligi aydinlik.

Ben seni sevdim mi?

Sevdim delice

Gozlerinde umudu seyrederdim dudaklarinda aski

Tatmadigim zevklere erisirdim yanibasinda.

Yepyeni duygularla dolardi icim kabarirdi bir deniz gibi.

Tasardi sonra tum kuvvetiyle.

Sonra sessizlik!

Dalardim sensizlik denizine yanibasimda sen

Ben seni sevdim mi?

Sevdim dogrusu!

Seni bir dunya yaptim, kendimi ay!

Uydun oldum sevgilim cevrende donen.

Her zaman yanimda ruhumda sen

Yanmis yikilmis bir sehirdim ben

Harap olmus bir virane!

Seni tanidim sonra tum bedbinligimle

Yaralarim derman bulmaya basladi agirdan

Kurtardin beni senelerin kohnemis anilarindan.

Yillardir kamburlasmaya yuz tutmus omuzlarim seninle diklesti.

Guzel gorunur oldu artik yillardir kustugum aynalar yuzume.

Ben seni sevdim mi?

Sevdim oyle ya!

Sevginle buyudum sevginle tamamlandim bir butun oldum

Biri vardi uzakta.

Sen misil misil uyurken

Seni dusunup seni yasayan

Biri vardi asik, tutkun sana delice

O bendim.

Soframda suyumdun ekmegimdin.

Sarkilarimda sen vardin ezgilerimde sen

Oturdum yanimdaydin kalkardim karsimda

Herseyimdin benim, hayatimdin, canimdin;

Mevsimlerden baharim...

This is a turkish poem from me to all guys:m:
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(Is it possible to translate, Jerece? :) I'd like to know what it says)

<b>Possible Beings</b>

It’s just the expression
On her mildly spun features
That salves his wounds
And undoes his mortal

His possible being
The one who could have been
Who might have been
But never was.

Lovingly raised, his hand
Reaches like sun-sweetened tendrils;
Bleached by distended, bloated sun beams
To her faded picture

His possible being
The one who could have been
Who might have been
But never was.

What was left of the star
Engorged in all self-encompassing jealousy
Time’s sand scratched glass bauble
That dictates his spirit

His possible being
The one who could have been
Who might have been
But never was.

(A poem dedicated to the tribulations of a man who travels to the future, finds love, but must return back to the present, having his "possible" being ripped away and struggling against the irresistable currents of Time.)
100 % Recommended Dietary Allowances

Brains, Love , Health, we got it all on shelve.
Need a spark? Try Yohimbe Bark.
Omega 3, Omega 6, Omega 9, Dopamine, feeling fine.
what goes down must go up: Cialis takes you to the top.
Take the blue pill: fight your foes.
Take the red pill:I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.
ok , I think I can do better than that, but you have to consider I just browsed this thread and some basic concept popped up and I wrote it all down in 10 minutes.

Give me a day and I will give you more Shakespaerian contemplations:p
Whispered voices in the dawn
As painted leaves singing in the Autumn tree
and landing on the dew stained lawn.
Their chanting song that makes my free.

A wave rolling in the open sea
It seems my shore nine thousand miles,
away from me.
I dream to crash and make it last,
upon your beach.
Each teary droplet I have saved,
My salty taste this ocean make.

A shooting star across the sky.
Bright streaming cream against the night,
the deepest blue, its sadness true.
Reminds me of my time from you.

Gentle warm breezes brush the desert sands.
My thoughts in blossoms yet to bloom
My fragrant scent I will not vent.
Till my petals fall and I rest my hands.
I'll sing to you my sweetest tune.
Third Heart of the Octopus

angelic Love overflows its heart;
Only to spill into the next.

<hr>I compare ourselves to the slimy, sickly creatures known collectively as octopi. I wish to attend to the matter of our innate insensitivity, that no matter how much love is given, it just seems wasted (because we have so many hearts). Fickleness. Yeah.
Une questionne

What's the name of that poem that goes something like "The calm blue pool asked me for a kiss"? It's one of my favourites, but I never knew the name or author. :(

I also love the works of Robert Frost and Conrad Aiken. :)
Drooping through the vents, Where the breath of life escapes.
Pious to myself, There's no way to be filled with hate.
Call to the Way, A flow to be felt, Air to escape.
Time to fly away, Zero to be saved.
A flower to my desert,
A desert sparse, but full of light.

Blue has not been seen.
But my life is filled with light.
Grainy hair and a callous face.
Scornful, eccentric, eyes dark and deep.
Camouflage needs not be worn.
He blends in with the light.
He radiates with warmth and water.
Yet blue has not been seen.

His color changes with the sky, But he's never blue.
So used and weathered, His teeth have turned to dust.
He is the sand, He lives in the Way.
He wants to, and he must, But not through the blue.
Because he can't imagine sadness, Because he can't imagine mistrust.
..as diaphanous drapes of high-yellow mist wend in from the North (almost as if from frozen angel's expirations)...
so sedate & serene greet this mellow-graced amberland dawn...
yet something foreboding, some sibiliant sign rides low in the autumnal sky,
speaking of months-from-now mornings/mournings
that winter purposes..
but, for now, only now, melliflurous day-break sighs with reticent stirrings ..with whisperings of faithfullness,
it nudges the velvet-sheathed cattails awake with a yawn
and remind the dulcet acacia, vervain and mallow of their duties, that is, of tossing their fragrant scents up, up like gifts of micro-purified incense to glorify the evolving day as it struggles for release from midnight's intimate restraints.

apart, I watch this unfolding/the earth a stage.
I am merely an exra in this extravagent, yet pious show..nature reveals her real stars here to me.
saturated, fullfilled & liable, my sleep-deprived eyes bring me here to meditate on the Eternal.

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Your first paragraph is like one big run-on sentence. Is it legal? :bugeye:
Not sure what you mean by "legal" but if that first
line isn't legal, then I am guilty of having broken
the "law" on several occasions. ;)