A Poem Thread

Discussion in 'Art & Culture' started by Angelus, Nov 9, 2002.

  1. LaurieAG Registered Senior Member

    BTW, this is not an environmental poem. It is my interpretation of the speech of the severed head in 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' a circa 1400 Welsh tract.

    May 2000 ‘The Green Knights Claim’

    Noble sirs, exercise thy renowned might,
    honour thine agreement with the green knight,
    tis his by right.

    Do not be unnerved,
    justice shall be served,
    while accolades are undeserved,
    and truthful valour is reserved.

    Qualms about the justice of fate,
    carry no weight on this judgement date,
    pious fervour too late.

    Come now and cement the agreed pact,
    that ye have enacted through use of his multifaceted axe.

    Once ye have availed of its plentiful resource,
    there is nay recourse,
    ye have chosen thine course.

    IMO the original 'Arthurian' legend was a subtly written piece intended to threaten recalcitrant lords into paying their correct tax.

    The short version of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

    For all that amounts, make good honest accounts,
    lest ye could lose more than just lucky underpants.
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  3. LaurieAG Registered Senior Member

    January 2000

    The covenant lies broken, they worship the arc,
    behold in all glory, the lord of the dark.

    February 2002

    Squirrelly market magic pus,
    twists some minds and makes others cuss,
    masters of the universe are us.
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  5. Nehushtan Registered Member


    Why, when we’re bored, does time seem not to flow?
    And why does it fly when we’re having fun?
    The answer: Time goes neither fast nor slow.
    dt/dt always equals 1.
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  7. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    When the hollow lies have died, when the faithful lose their pride
    When the leaders lose their heads once the rivers begin to run red
    When the paradigm of society is shattered by the facts
    When the comfortable are disturbed and the disturbed are relaxed
    Once the graves overflow only then will we know
    When the world begins to burn, in metaphor and reality
    I will stand upon the hill, watching this glimpse of mortality
    Smirking all the while, appreciating the one thing that I’ve yearned to see.
    To see all that I hate burn down in front of me, that will be a delight to see
    When greed is dead and gone and when the blind finally see
    I will not say a thing as they burn down in front of me
    When vanity has collapsed and the rich are now poor
    When there is no more sense of social class I’ll be there for sure.
    As world collapses and begins to burn the sky, I will stand alone on that hill as the masses ask “WHY!?!”
    With a smile neither on my face, nor any hint of disgrace I will answer their pseudo filled cries
    “You ask why? It’s simple…you were born into a lie, hello and goodbye”
  8. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    Welcome now to my brain where everyone is depraved, walk around and you will find…
    No societal problems here, only the things I hold dear for myself, the standards bar has dropped right into the slop
    Come inside I do implore, stick around the for the encore of the theater that is my mind
    Step back and be afraid of this regressive mental state that society all but endorses!
    Let the masses dissipate, grind the wheels of their fates and so openly ignore
    Paradise of fraternity or a hellish eternity what seems more depraved?
    Race, religion, creed dividing fissures for the human need of a sense of belonging
    Stratify to enforce the lies, that all are not equal in society’s eyes
    The underclass to the outcast, the rich define the poor, bourgeoisie are the pimps and the poor are the whores
    Prejudice and hate breed to discriminate those unfamiliar to our own
    False connections, to racial segregation a constant battle in a mixed nation
    The human condition, a social rendition of those whom do or do not belong
    Rich to poor, black to white, fighting ensues for who is right, a tragic misconception over the value of acceptance.
  9. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    As the tears fall upon my face, alone I weep in my own disgrace
    For the chances of life that I have let slip by, all I can do now is cry
    For the memories I cannot forget, the pain and hurt of my regrets
    The scars not visible but oh so deep they simply reaffirm why I weep
    For this life I have lived I’ve always distrusted what others had to say
    As the placid drops drip from my eyes I simply gawk and ponder why
    A fate so tragic and discomposed such hollow melodies of dreams foretold
    I weep lowly once again; the streaming tears always drop in the rhythm of a cruel clock
    “Why cruel fortunate must I be alone, am I so repugnant to those I grown to know?”
    The question it goes about in the form of a teary shout
    I’ve known the answer for so long, playing around in my head like a song
    “You never gave them a chance, you see. You’ve tried to avoid the worst in thee”
    “For one who acted so cold, your heart was the softest in a world that loathed”
  10. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    I’m the spark in your head, the mental undead, the thoughts you repress and keep inside your chest
    I’m the darkness; I’m the fear that you hold so dear, I’m in your heart and your mind yet so deeply intertwined
    You’re the host of my existence, the blood of persistence you’re the danger in my mind that I couldn’t leave behind
    You’re the spark in my night, the source of the dim fire light, the bullet in my head made of the slowly melting lead
    I’m the fear of your heart; a bitter-sweet kiss departs as you sleep once again. I’m the shadow of when you fall into your bad habits again.
    Odious I am with when I bring upon your hand, a touch of cruelty and cold staunch reality
    You’re the blade of the knife, cutting once or twice revealing scars unseen in my melancholy dreams
    I’m the finale curtain call, waiting in the stalls sparking your dread, you’ve have no fear of being dead
    You’re the bane of my existence and yet I’m still persistent in making you mine.
    Slowly the blood drips, from the cuts upon your wrist with this you’ll see one last time,
    I’m the demon that you’re missing, the evil you’ve been wishing to meet for so long, you were too weak to try to listen to my song.
    I’d be not too weary of this mental mercenary, who fights for your soul, I’ve killed before still unsure if your blood is worth all this gore.
    You’re the craving of my art, as wicked thoughts depart into the world of undead; I’m the flower that rots in the fields already dark.
    I’m your ego, your pride, yourself personified in the wicked and morbid ways
    I’m the puzzle of death; would you like to take a guess in solving this mental maze?
    You’re the birth of my start in which everything departs in wayward and random ways or would take pause and simply applaud this macabre play?
    You’ll see me in time my dear…when your death is all but too near!
  11. Lady Elizabeth Registered Member

    RealityCheck's a psychopath, a spammimg troll is he
    A raving rabid imbecile, it's clearly plain to see
    Crippled with delusion, he mouth-foams everywhere
    This keyboard mashing sickhead, drooling in its lair
    By trolling insane nonsense, he hopes to win a cause
    But everyone who reads it, finds it truly nause'
    RealityCheck's a psychopath, a loser troll and git
    Everything he boasts to claim, is merely steaming shlt.
    Last edited: Mar 12, 2013
  12. Buddha12 Valued Senior Member

    When the music's over
    When the music's over
    When the music's over
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights

    When the music's over
    When the music's over
    When the music's over
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights

    For the music is your special friend
    Dance on fire as it intends
    Music is your only friend
    Until the end
    Until the end
    Until the end

    Cancel my subscription to the resurrection
    Send my credentials to the house of detention
    I got some friends inside

    The face in the mirror won't stop
    The girl in the window won't drop
    A feast of friends, alive, she cried, waitin' for me outside

    Before I sink into the big sleep I want to hear, I want to hear the scream of the butterfly
    Come back, baby, back into my arms
    We're getting' tired of hangin' around with, waitin' around with our heads to the ground
    I hear a very gentle sound
    Very near yet very far, very soft and very clear
    Come today babe, come today
    What have they done to the earth?
    What have they done to our fair sister?
    Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her
    Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn
    And tied her with fences and dragged her down
    I hear a very gentle sound with your ear down to the ground


    Now is that any way to behave at a rock and roll concert?
    You don't wanna hear that for the next half hour, do you?
    Alright, sssh
    C'mon, c'mon, c'mon
    Damn, give, give the singer some, man
    We want the world and we want it… NOW

    Persian night babe, see the light babe
    Save us babe, Jesus, save us babe

    Well, that's New York for ya
    The only people that rush the stage are guys, you know

    So when the music's over
    When the music's over
    When the music's over
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights
    Turn out the lights
    Well the music is your special friend
    Dance on fire as it intends
    Music is your only friend
    Until the end
    Until the end
    Until the end

  13. Nehushtan Registered Member

    Poem on radioactivity:

    As alpha rays are thrown out from their source,
    The parent atoms undergo a change;
    These helium nuclei need little force
    To stop them going past a certain range.
    Another radioisotope decays,
    And more unseen electronvolts are freed;
    But these more penetrating beta rays
    Are just electrons with a lot of speed.
    Possessing no rest mass and zero charge,
    The nuclear gamma photons stream about;
    They have a penetrating strength so large
    That nothing short of lead will cut them out.
  14. arfa brane call me arf Valued Senior Member

    Expect a poem

    Many people
    Expect a poem
    Will be deep
    And meaningful,
    But this one
    Won't . . .
  15. Robittybob1 Banned Banned

    Not only that,
    It didn't rhyme,
    felt like nothing.
    A waste of time.
  16. Fraggle Rocker Staff Member

    I recently read a comment from a scholar saying it's a real shame that English poetry has moved in the direction of relying exclusively on rhyme, and ignoring alliteration.

    Many other languages can't do that because they're highly inflected. To make two lines rhyme the last word in both has to be the third-person plural imperfect subjunctive tense of a second-conjugation verb (for example) so it's constraining and boring.

    It's somewhat constraining even in English. Our phonetics allow so much variety that many words don't have very many rhyming mates. So you see the same rhymes over and over. This is particularly true of popular song lyrics.
  17. Nehushtan Registered Member

    There once was a man named Jhough
    Who lived in a place called Whough.
    When folks scratching their head
    Asked how they were said,
    He said: “Simple! They both rhyme with Zhough.”

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  18. Robittybob1 Banned Banned

    I see there was woman with that name. But whether she came from the said place is up for debate.

    GREEN CHILE PASTE (ZHOUGH) http://www.frontiercoop.com/store.php?Screen=recipe&recipe=361

    Whough Pronunciation http://www.pronouncehow.com/english/whough_pronunciation

    There once was a lady named JHough
    Who lived in a place called Whough.
    When folks scratching their head
    Asked how they were said,
    She said: “Simple! They both rhyme with Zhough.”
    Last edited: Mar 16, 2013
  19. LaurieAG Registered Senior Member

    ‘The Eternal Battle of the Wits’

    Quarter wits view things from one perspective alone,
    while half wits see things in two colour monochrome.

    Three quarter wits see things in a third way,
    while few can see all four colours anyway.

    Some entirely witless unfortunates,
    devoid of any original thoughtfulness,
    champion judgments made through three quarter wits cautiousness.

    Witless advice from three quarter wits is unfit,
    when it recommends promoting quarter wits, to wit.

    Soon all the half wits appear very blue,
    only one shade of colour when previously there were two.
  20. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    I’ve laughed today once I saw the news on the T.V’s display of man’s sons dying under the pretense of monetary sums.
    I’ve laughed today when I heard the leader’s policies cause so much distain, I laughed again when they promised change
    I’ve laughed today at the reaction to such “tragic” losses of human life; I’m laughing again in a world overflowing with strife
    I’ve laughed today, at the statistics written on the walls, they drip with blood still red and bright in droplets that fall.
    I’ll laugh again at the pseudo pleas in their pathetic wails, I laugh again when people fight for material sales.
    I’ve laughed today, when a man of god told me that he loved me, I laughed again just as well when he said I’d burn in hell
    I’ve laughed, manically at everything the same, I laugh you see not because I’m entertained
    I laugh you see for this world made me deranged. We are a joke you and me. Everything we do is funny to me.
    I laugh today at a punch line to jokes so cruel and cold, I laugh you see at a future we’ve already sold.
    “Once you figured out what a joke everything is, being The Comedian is the only thing that makes sense”-Edward Blake, Watchmen
  21. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    Quiet, quiet it is inside my head, yet I’m still screaming with no voice
    Livid, livid red my blood was as it swelled before my eyes, so many lives gone
    Screaming, screaming I am when I see what others fail to recognize as they blow away in the wind
    Weeping, weeping silently as I watch innocence die in world so cruel and cold
    Quietly, quietly I scream with complete rage as I watch a child die in my arms from my fights
    Morose, death a fitting end for such little value that was spent on a life incomplete
    Sadness, sadness washes over my scars with a placid and insulting grace, my memories laugh in my face
    Acceptance, the only path left for me to continue living with the regrets of what might have been
    Lonely….lonely as the moon in the blackest night I will be when death finally takes me.
    Regrets are my only companions; I contemplate what I could give to see you smile again.
    Blood red as the knife slowly cuts; as I drain I will leave this world all the more insane.
    “When you swear that you will protect someone, it is not a question of whether you willing to give your life for them. No, the real question is what is it that you would be willing to gain from protecting them and what you are truly willing to give up for them.”
  22. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    You want me dead, you want me gone, and I’ll be your wayward vagabond
    See through my scratched lenses and cry out repentance when you see me unscathed
    You want me deranged, you want me insane, and you want me to cry, you want me to lie, do you want me to just die?
    Love is my hatred, without it I’m naked, but you’re the ones who made it this way.
    You want me complicate, you want me absolved, and you want me to be the victim when your morals fall?
    Livid fueled passion, your medial distractions of the tragedies that happen in this world today
    You want me censored, you want me cut, and you want me to give fuck about the lies you feed the youth?
    Diversionary tactics, plain and full of placid people who hold the reigns, power you promise me if I bow to your infirmity
    You want me conformed, you want me dumb, you want me to be mentally numb as I march to your god’s son
    I’ll be the fire of your rage, the maggot of your decay, the fear that you feel when I show what is real
    You want me dead, you want be gone and I’ll be your wayward vagabond, pugnacious I am when you try to grab my hand
    Conflicted and reeling from this hate that you’re feeling, you’re hopeless when knelling under a crumbling ceiling.
    You want me to fly, you want me to never again speak, and you know the secrets that I keep will bring about your end.
  23. Saturnine Pariah Hell is other people Valued Senior Member

    When you judge me, you should do it quietly and maliciously, stab me in the back while preying on my fear.
    When you look through my head, and mock my very existence and my resolve please throw in a pinch of salt.
    When you hear me talk, rudely gawk and pry on the cliff of what I have to say, you’ll have never listened anyway
    When you beat me, do it with spite, at least I’ll have known your touch that night even if the bruises hurt.
    When you beat me down to an emotional low, your shame will show in the tears I shed, you’re the one who is really dead.
    When you cut me, with words like razors look into my eyes and pray to your savior that you won’t burn in hell.
    When you scream and yell at me, do with a sympathetic look in your eyes, each tear I shed, you die a little inside
    When you don’t even look at me, those are the moments which scare me the most; to be seen as nothing…that is my greatest fear
    When you pass me on the sidewalk, don’t ignore me, to see me as nothing...Is a torture no one should have to endure.
    “The greatest insult one can afford to expend is indifference. To treat a human being as nothing or to look upon with apathy is far worse than to give them negative attention. For even in the negative attention...At least your attacker is acknowledging that you exist”

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