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 Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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.
[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
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. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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.
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.
................................................... Monkey see Monkey doodo .................................................... Thank you. Thank you. *takes a bow* Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
Monkey see: monkey do Muliboy writes crap I see: his poem in my toliet (swish,swish,swish,swish,swish) all gone!
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! Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
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
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.
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 Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
I liked it MuliBoy. That´s because I´m avant- avantgarde, but don´t expect that from everybody. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
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!
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
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. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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.
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?
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!
Sorry about interrupting the discussion between you twoPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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 upPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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!
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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...
Can I join in and mulish minianimalism in Disneyland? Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!