Poetry Arena

Discussion in 'Art & Culture' started by Congrats, Jan 20, 2002.

  1. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    552
    Some torture, Beblina! (ahem...) No one could even torture a bug with that! That's beautiful.

    OK- so you wanted it to be more rythmical...

    1. In a forest full of light
    2. telling secrets is the play
    3. running across the bushes
    4. of new life

    5. Becoming the creatures dreamt of
    6. in ancient dreams of future visions
    7. celebrating the fullness of the moment
    8. indulging our souls

    9. We are the flowing circles
    10. in between times of excess
    11. never forgetting who we are
    12. always seeking new ways to be
    13. explorers of reality

    14. We will win this game
    15. because there is no way to lose
    16. growing fresh essence
    17. of exuberant light and
    18. losing our minds
    19. in equations of mystery

    20. This is who we are
    21. when we love

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    Ok, I would combine lines 12 and 13 and then put in 20/21 as the chorus of the song and then go onto your next verse. I would take out the 'and' in line 17-possibly seperating it into two stanzas after that, or just letting it run on into itself. I might also combine 3 and 4. Lines 5-8 are just brilliant-if you're writing a song, those lines should be your model, because they are rythmical, Bebelina, you just have to look into the rythym of the meaning of what you wrote.

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    It's very 'there'. It isn't hiding anything, really. The suggestions I made I think would just bring it out a little bit further into the open. But really, what you wrote is what it is, and any song should work with it. But then again, I've never written a song, or even tried, and I've never really published anything at all. So follow your own instincts, Bebelina. It's not like Bjork can do cartwheels.
     
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  3. Avatar smoking revolver Valued Senior Member

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    19,083
    [Raid of Vikings]
    Ship sails out of waters deep
    With dragon, red from blood
    From the thirst of war
    Roaring on its stem

    Death is on its deck
    Dragged from The North to Spain
    Where fame and riches lay
    Waiting to be gained

    It’s no game for sure
    ‘Cause murder comes to shore
    And there’s our hero
    Let’s watch his deeds

    He’s tired, but fights with love and ease
    His mighty axe as eagle hunts its prey
    Cutting his way, to the fame of war
    Knowing he might fall this very day

    Arrows are shot at him
    Weapons of cowards: he laughs,
    Come closer that I can see
    The bloody face of victory

    The gold is taken, the city plundered
    But where’s our hero
    Lets look for him
    For he is needed for this story’s end

    And there he is, lying on his back
    With a bloody wound in his head
    Singing the song of death
    Waiting for feasts in Valhalla to begin

    (c) by Andris Krastins 2001
     
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  5. Bebelina kospla.com Valued Senior Member

    Messages:
    5,036
    Thank you very much Congratulations, that was excellent advice, I will follow it. Yes, I was going to take away the "and", but forgot to do so before I posted it. The chorus will be very catchy like that.

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  7. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

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    552

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    Thank you, Bebelina. When you get that song recorded, you should put it up so we can hear it.

    Here's one by E.E. Cummings that just struck me when I first heard it. I hope I can get it exact, becuas he doesn't just write words, it's like visual.

    Pity This Busy Monster,Manunkind

    pity this busy monster,manunkind,

    not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
    your victim (death and life safely beyond)


    plays with the bigness of his littleness
    -electrons deify one razorblade
    into a mountainrange;lenses extend


    unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
    returns on its unself
    A world of made
    is not a world of born-pity poor flesh


    and trees,poor stars and stones,but never this
    fine specimen of hypermagical


    ultraomnipotence. We doctors know


    a hopeless case if-listen : there's a hell
    of a good universe next door;let's go



    Such Brilliance!
    If only E.E. Cummings could know how to come back from the grave to post here at the 'Poetry Arena'. If I could write a poem like that, my ife would be fulfilled; completely. Well, i just thought E.E. Cummings was pretty great, hope you do too.
     
  8. Pollux V Ra Bless America Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    6,495
    awhile ago I actually submitted a poem to this writing contest-thingy and wound up with an invitation to go to Washington D.C for a conference. I didn't go because, well, I didn't want to and I'm not really a poet (more of a writer). I'll be looking for the poem in the future.

    P.S Congrats unlike the previous lil story I wrote I believe that the piece I'm looking for fits your parameters.
     
  9. MuliBoy psykyogi Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    266
    ...................................................

    Monkey
    see

    Monkey

    doodo

    ....................................................


    Thank you. Thank you. *takes a bow*

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  10. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    552
    Monkey see: monkey do
    Muliboy writes crap
    I see: his poem in my toliet
    (swish,swish,swish,swish,swish)
    all gone!
     
  11. Xelios We're setting you adrift idiot Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    2,447
    Tell me what you think:

    Fear

    The darkness is there,
    It does not need help
    It knows you better,
    Than you know yourself.

    This darkness is fear,
    And it takes many forms
    It lies inside all
    A calm before storm

    It waits for a moment,
    When guards are let down
    Then surrounds your whole being;
    A choking black gown.

    The fear of death
    And this darkness inside,
    Are one and the same
    And in us, reside.

    By: me.

    o0o0o0o0o! it rhymes!

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  12. iced_earth Anathematized Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    67
    Water fall

    It spills into a sea of linoleum
    The water dark, but yet filled with life
    Rolling eyes, and fear to rife
    Darkness consumes
    Feelings condemned to their dooms

    Life, spirit, soul, and essence
    Like water flows from him
    Through the spout
    Runs through the streams through out
    The ground, from its source
    The lips quiver of remorse
    The life now dies
    His position now memorized
    With the chalk
    no one knows his last thought
    but his body will now rot
     
  13. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    552
    I'm going to write this right now, it's called improvising.


    TABTRIC UNDERSTANDINGS

    Given to the girl in the white clapboard shingles;
    given to her who could never understand
    (you)
    but she stares to the wall, mutters a respnse to her captor
    "Ok here little one"

    there's a place where nothing is noted
    there's a place where you can kiss him in peace
    there's a place of horrible, tantric understanding
    when the beat goes (rustle) and the time is weak

    A swan takes a lap around a pond
    reeds, soaking here in my mouth
    salmon upon me, never flinching, never breathing
    she tried to break free
    but.she.does.not.

    sun-in my door-honey-on my head
    a vistor upon my step, a jump in my step
    I go to the door
    I go to your head
    so leaves,and reeds
    sole leaves and brown rustlers
    I bought a six said of trees
    small, spreading spiderweb of listening to sound.

    Rotary noises and waves
    telling my mother to 'take a hike'
    you go away! you leave me alone!
    Strantium houses and mansions in quiet reproach.

    Now on the waves of the lily-like coroners
    Jamison gives it a wink, and a hint
    so rest upon, rest upon daybed
    in the day-room,
    in the parlor
    from teas to the biscuit crackers

    The girl is held
    in a room far off left
    crimpets, tea mints some grass in an eyelid
    the job is our helping hand

    in silencing her.

    This is about being held down and finding yourself. In this case, the girl beocmes part of an abstract fantasy where eventually, silent nature takes over her troubles. But at the end, after dealing with some issues, she is still being held, yet silenced by us, and resolute in her steadfast commitment to herself.
     
  14. MuliBoy psykyogi Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    266
    And you have the guts to critisize me?

    Haven´t heard of the simple beaty of minimalism. That was minianimalism.
    PostPost Modernistic heroism. You just aint avant garde enough.
    Your mistake

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  15. Bebelina kospla.com Valued Senior Member

    Messages:
    5,036
    I liked it MuliBoy. That´s because I´m avant- avantgarde, but don´t expect that from everybody.

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  16. mato Registered Member

    Messages:
    28
    can any one just jump in...

    Night

    Darkness in the stillness of the night
    Life takes hold.
    Creatures of destruction rest,
    The night, so calm and silent.
    In the shadows I lie and wait,
    Creature born of darkness.
    Life takes hold and sets me free.
    The world is so dark and silent, so still and cold.
    Soon the destruction shall begin again soon the beasts shall stir.
    This is our time, this is my time, a creature of life a creature of darkness.
    A creature that stalks the night.
    Soon the beasts shall stir and wonder
    What has become of the night before
    They shall awaken and life will retreat
    Into the shadows, into the night, into the cold.

    In the shadows of the night there lies a beast of life,
    She the mother eternal, creatress, silent for a time, sleeping.
    Her children attend to her (those who have not forgotten…)
    Yearning for her to awaken and reclaim the light.
    Mistress of night so silent, her children so eager.
    She waits in the darkness for no one,
    Within the darkness she is whole.

    The shadows of night surround me,
    The creatures celebrate my return,
    my siblings children of life.
    She comforts me in her stillness.
    Through her my strength is shown.
    Her dark beauty reflects nothing,
    in her I am alone.

    I am still beside her,
    Life fades to destruction.
    I know she will awaken.


    Got bored... all my work is copy written!
     
  17. iced_earth Anathematized Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    67
    this is part 5 of a poem i've wrote , tell me what you think


    FIRES AND DAMNATION

    THE CONFLAGRATION, BURSTED INTO ALL AROUND ME, DAMNATION
    FILLED THE AIR, WITH THOUSANDS OF SOULS, BITING, TEARING AT EACH OTHER, AND THE SMELL THAT BURNED WITH THE PROCESS OF INHALATION
    LOATHING, DESPAIR FILLED THE LAND, THE LEDGES OF ALL THE HELLS FILLED MY MIND, GUSTAVE DORE
    IN THE BACK WITH WINGS FLAPPED, THE COLD WINDS OF COCYTUS, FILLED THE AIR, AND TEMPTED TO LORE
    THE WAILING THE LETHE, I ALMOST FORGOTTEN LIFE, I HELD ONTO IT WITH ALL I COULD.
    BUT THE PAIN OF FIRE, ANGUISH AND SHOCK TOOK ITS FORM, AND BEAT ME TO SOMETHING LESS THEN A MAN SHOULD
    IT WAS REAL, THE PAIN I COULD FELL, THIS WAS HELL, AND WHAT IS THIS
    HE WALKS ALONE NOT A WORD TO ANY, THAT WAS DIS
    HE STOOD AND FROWNED AS THE TORTURING OF SOULS BURNED FOREVER.
    I WAITED IN LINES OF MILLIONS OF SINNERS, ACHE AND TWINGE AT EVERY SIGHT TELL MY EYES FACED WITH NO FEAR, I LAUGHED SOMETIMES, TO MY SELF AS I COULD NOT BARE, THIS WOE, AND MY ENDEAVOR
    MY BODY WAS TENDER, HEALTH HAD LOST , MY SKIN GONE AND ALL BUT LOST, I STOOD ORGANS EXPOSED, AND ALL TORMENT I KNOW.
    I BEGGED TO THE WHAT I THOUGHT WAS THE SKY.. ARE YOU THEIR FATES, CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAM IN THIS TORMENT, AND THE STIGMA SHOW
    I AM NOT A MAN, AS IT MELTS AWAY A SHADOW OF NOTHING, ECHO’S OF THINGS NO ONE SHOULD HEAR
    ALL THIS WAS A RENEWED AND EVER PRESENT FEAR
    PIERCING METALS THROUGH WHAT WAS LEFT OF ME, THE PAIN DISTRESS DID HELL NEED THIS
    I FINALLY MOVED UPON THE LEDGES, ONE BY ONE, TIME TICKED ALONG, BUT NEVER SEEMED TO MOVE IN THIS

    ADVANCING PAINS CRAWLED ON TO ME , MAGGOTS AND BLOOD RIVERS FLOWED, GORE AND BONE
    SHOWED THE LACK OF , ALL BUT IF YOU LOOKED TO THE SKY, A HEAVENS GATE OPENED EVERY TIME TO TAKE SOME ONE HOME.
    I CRIED A DRY TEAR EVERY TIME SOMETHING FLOATED ABOVE, AND THEN REMEMBERED IT WAS NOT ME
    IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE I SEE
    THROBBING PAIN ENTERED MY WOUNDS AS BUGS AND WASP’S PICKED AT ME, IN FAMINE AND DISEASE
    I STOOD IN A SEA OF MISERY, WITH OTHERS AS FAR AS THE EYES COULD SEE, THE DAMNED AND ME
    EXPLOSIONS TO VOLCANOES AND MAGMA ERUPT TO THE SKY, BLOCKED BY ASH, WAS THE STARS
    ALL WHO DARED TO LOOK WERE IN THE PAINS OF ALL THAT CHARS
    I AWAITED THE END SURELY THEIR WAS ONE FOR ALL. THE TORTURE MUST BE DONE, AND EVEN SCREAMS FILLED HORRID TONE
    I WAS NOTHING LEFT BUT SOUL AND BONE

    HE WALKED THROUGH WITH NO HARM
    THE FIRES WERE NOTHING TO HIS CHARM
    SYBIL I SAID, HOW MUCH MORE
    AND HE STOPPED, AND GARBED MY ARM, AND TOOK ME TO A DOOR



    this is copy written, thanx you very much , but what do you peoiple think
     
  18. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    552
    It's got some things going for it: Its depth, its variety of terms, etc. It is very 'bulky'. It seems like you put a lot on it so it gets more meaning. Which is OK.

    However, it's too much like a story; a descriptive. It isn't so much a work in itself than a work with its own meaning. It goes into depth to get to the meaning (which it is quite meaningful), but it has to go very far down to get to the meaning, and it's almost as if the whole poem is the framework for gently holding up your connection to the deep. I'd say let that connection fall, and write what you feel.

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    Don't take that as a criticism- I love your poetry for what it is. However, it could just have more meaning to me, the reader, if it was a little more immeadiate. In most harsh terms, it gets a little to bulky for itslef, and in effect clumsy.
     
  19. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    552
    And to Muliboy, I most humbly apologize. I really want to learn how to do that 'minianimalism' thing...maybe it's like this.

    A

    B

    C

    D

    Really, No, Really, Truly
    (never,never, Oh! never really for mother)
    (animals, in the land, mini ones, too)
    (lets' go to Disney's animal Kingdom)
    (and get some monkey doo)

    Is it? I feel embarrassed because I was so mean to you with the toilet comment. So, I was wondering if you would want to go to Disney's Animal Kingdom with me so we can brush up on our minianimalism. Actually, we should call it 'Mulish" after you. But, alas, a sad name for a glorious movement of poetry. Iced_Earth, why don't you give it a try?
     
  20. iced_earth Anathematized Registered Senior Member

    Messages:
    67
    well see thats prt 5 like i said , of a poem , its a epic poem, it's the must "buckly" for the topic of its self because that's the middle of the persons torment. here is part one.



    Anathema

    INTRO


    AS HIS TIME COMES TO AN END , THE GRAINS FALL AND DRIFT
    HIS BLOOD AND SOUL NOW FLOWS OUT OF HIM, HIS GIFT
    ITS WATCHED, WITH HORROR OF HIS END
    BUT MAN AND KNIFE ARE NOW FRIEND
    HE SEES HIS LIFE ONLY HOW HE COULD PERCEIVE
    WORSE THEN ANYTHING HE COULD IMAGINE OR BELIEVE
    HIS TORTURED LIFE, NOW WILL FADE, DUST AND PLAGUED
    HE SEES NOTHING AS HIS EYES LOSE ALL LIFE, AND RENEGED (RENOUNCE)
    EVERY THING HE ONCE KNEW, FADE OUT , A EMPTY MIND
    HIS THOUGHT AND THINGS, WHAT’S TO BE, WHERE TO HIDE
    HERE, IN THE PLANE, WHERE THE STORY’S OF HIS HELL TAKES PLACE
    IN THIS, FOREVER ETERNAL, SPACE




    SYBIL (DARKNESS)

    NOW MY FRIEND I’LL BE YOUR GUIDE YOUR ESCORT , THE LEAD ,
    THROUGH YOUR HELLS AND TORMENT FOR YOUR DEED
    YOU WILL WALK THROUGH ALL OFF THESE , NOW CAST TO DARKNESS
    YOU ENTER YOUR NEW “LIFE” ETERNAL, AND WAITING FOR THIS
    HELL IS MANS BROADEST OF ALL HIS TERMS
    YOU WILL SEE WHY, AS YOU LEARN
    THE DARK WILL TAKE AHOLD
    AND LET HELL UNFOLD


    DARKNESS

    ALONG THE PATH OF COBBLE STONE, RED AS THE BLOOD , THAT I BLED
    I SWIM IN THIS, THE DREAMS OF DEATH, NEVER AGAIN LIVE, I DWELL WITH THE DEAD
    THE SKY, SET TO DARK WITH NOTHING UPON IT , NO STARS TO SHINE , JUST LONELINESS
    THE STARLESS SKY REFLECTED BY THE POOLS OF BLOOD, ON THE PATH
    THE NEVER ENDING REMORSE OF MY THOUGHT, NOW FACED WITH ITS AFTERMATH
    THE FOREST OF DEAD STAGNANT THINGS, OVER LAPSE THE WILLOWS
    AND THIS INTENSE NOTHING, IN THE PRESENCE OF ME, IN THE SHADOWS
    CREEP BENEATH, NO GROUND JUST VASTNESS OF DEPTH, AND FEAR
    THE SILENCE IS KILLING, DEAF TO THOUGHTS AROUND ME, NOTHING ALIVE IS NEAR
    ONCE AGAIN TAKE A TURN TO WHAT’S ABOVE, NOTHING IS THE SKY
    YET DARK, BUT NO STARS, NO LIGHT, NO BEAUTY TO VIE
    THE GROUND WARM OF WHAT I FEEL, THE PASSING OF THE BLOOD OVER MY TOES
    THE NEVER ENDING, SILENCE TAKES ME, MY MIND IS LOST IT SHOWS
    WITH NO SOUND ALL I CAN HEAR IS MY SELF THINK OF THIS
    THE DARK , THE ALMOST COLD FEAR ERUPTS, FROM THIS NOTHINGNESS
    I’M ALONE WITH MY THOUGHTS, IN THE DARK, AS I WALK WITH THE BLOOD
    IN MY MIND THE THOUGHTS THAT SCATTER, AND I CAN’T SEPARATE FROM THIS FLOOD
    THOUGHTS, RABBLES, PRATTLES, I CAN’T HEAR THE STREAM
    WHERE IS THE NOISE I’M CONTEMPT TO SCREAM
    BUT , I CAN’T HERE MY VOICE, THE SOUND, THE ACOUSTICS, FROM THE WOODS
    WHERE IS IT, YOU TAKE IT SO I’M ALONE, WITH MY SELF, TO THINK OF FALSEHOODS
    AND I WALKED DOWN THIS STREAM OF BLOOD VIVID TO MY LOVE
    THE ONLY THING THAT TIES ME TO LIFE
    IS THAT , MY LOVE, BUT WHAT HAVE I DONE , THE HATE WILL RIFE (RISE)

    THE DARKNESS IS FADING ITS FAILING, THE SKY STILL DARK BUT TURNING TO LIGHT
    WHAT IS THIS AFTER A MILLION MILES IN THE RIVER OF BLOOD A NEW SIGHT?
    I CAN SEE SOMETHING DIFFERENT A COLOR A HUE
    AND THEN IT AGAIN, YOU!


     
  21. Avatar smoking revolver Valued Senior Member

    Messages:
    19,083
    Sorry about interrupting the discussion between you two

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    Iced_Earth, I think tht a long poem loses its meaning and power to impress. But as I myself consider on writing an epos about some ancien civilization, I better shut up

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    Here's my poem, also copyrighted
    (my last poem in English writen in 2001)

    [Conquest of Paradise] v2.5

    Create your world in seven days,
    Change your fate in seven ways.
    Garden of Eden, forget about your past,
    Here I come with an army in my path.

    See the future the way you want,
    Let nobody steal away your sun,
    The temples fall and empires crush,
    The gates of heaven tremble by your touch

    Beat the system where all is said,
    Nothing can be changed or modified,
    Be a God and change the world,
    Let yourself in paradise!
     
  22. Congrats Bartok Fiend Registered Senior Member

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    552

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    You sure are trying to create an epic, I just noticed the mythological references, the astronomy references. Ananthema, isn't that a Jovian sattelite? I think it might be either the little one closest to Jupiter that Gallileo missed, or one of the tiny ones scattered about behind the Gallilean ones. If it isn't I'm pathetically stupid, but either way there is a strong sense of history or meaning simply in mentioning those words.

    But honestly, it's tiring. I know you said you get this a lot, that your poetry is too long, but really, you seem to be repeating things in different forms so often that it seems naive. I have to skim your poem to get the meaning because if I just read it, I'd get lost. However, maybe that's the point, and there's nothing wrong with an involved poem.

    I just know from my own poetry that when I write something like a 7 page poem, it ends up sounding ridiculous; like I had something to hide so I tried to make up for it in length. Or maybe I was unsure about my own ability when I did those.

    Now, however, I limit poems to one page, and it becomes routine for my brain to move on now after one page. I'm conditioned. It's better because you can more easily and effectively explore the self in a short, brief poem. You really don't get that from an epic. Glory is not derivative of length. The Vietnam War was the longest war in US history, if you catch my drift...
     
  23. Bebelina kospla.com Valued Senior Member

    Messages:
    5,036
    Can I join in and mulish minianimalism in Disneyland?

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