Poetry Arena


Bartok Fiend
Registered Senior Member
Let's have a poetry arena!
Where we hurl hunks of poetic justice at each other and attempt to come out unscathed.
No one ever esponds to posts made w/poems, and it's about time they did!

We've got to get the rest of sciforums noticing our humble morsels of words!
Blood on Jono’s Ceiling: The Remixes and the HITs.

<1> Little Strabnats this time
Shut. (staid)
Now the doors are closed so I can fall asleep more easily
In the 4th room off to the left.

One by one

These lights…they all shut off!
First, second, third!
While the beat presses….

Now through the corner of my retina.
A fleshspasm, a wince.
But this is all mainly the sensation of…
(screaming down into the bark as ice and grit flow upon the in a
nothing shape….)

Now the windows are closed so I can fall asleep more easily
The windows are closed so nothing
Not even air can
In by the barrel
A barrel,
Two barrels.
Some barrels.
A couple or a few barrels.
Go home trucks!

When once I decided to climb up (residue)
All the way into the airvents
And crawled and crawled and crawled.

The tunnels I used went pretty far.
Abridging many air regions.
They truly dropped off at many certain others.
I was stuck in the airvents!

Air goes long, football high.
Regions flow one against each other.

They all try to reach a consensus
Of a probability.
Something truly distinctive.


Scream and shout it through the air
While it bounces through the slim passage.
Soon it will find itself to the hard corner
Of impersonal liberty.
Soon We’ll be free!

Given all denominations and tokens
Of our wealth.
We do find a definite, distinct rhythm
Of something far clearer
Than us.
In that we find ourselves
And all around us.

Pancakes flapping, hissing on
The griddle as Mickey walks in.
Long day of work.
But he sits still
And listens for all will be free when the eyes are clear!!!!!

<3> Generational Gap
Number the stars in the sky, Hibbert. (muster)
But I can’t father.
Well, Hibbert, that’s simple nonsense. A simple case of nonsensicalness!
But, silly Papa! There are a large number of all those stars.
Oh, Hibbert I’ve got a story.
YAY!! I LUV You Papa!

I was a little boy in the nineteen-fifteens.
I remember crawling under my desk
Lining up in the hall
Because a nuclear missile could have been coming at Los Angeles from our backdoor
In Alaska.
A backdoor sneak, you understand.
Why yes, papa!

The stars were fewer then,
Since so many stars could have fallen.
What, papa?
I’m dreaming off…
You don’t worry.
Yes, hibbert?

There are still a living myriad of stars!
A simple legend!

<4> Brown Eyed Susans, Aren’t they Oh so gosh golliness lovely!!
Over through the mailboxes
Tagline, darling. GO PUSH THEM!
I do not want to sound like your mother.
Simply said, I am your Aunt Susan.
Your old and new mama at once.
Because your only ornate old one is dead.
I do not want to push you so that all pushing becomes a pulling-
Confusions, you know?

You are my horrible child
I dislike your methods,
Your frazzlements.
You disturb me.
You give me parturitions!
Now just go push the mailboxes
I will faint from the wretched heat
You will let it get to me, will you not?
Yes you will.
I know it.
The Virgin Mary is telling me!

Solyia Mary I commend thee!
The lord Jesus respects thy heavens above.
The angels blare their warning horns as tagline moves around
They map her out and kill her.
Oh Angels, go Angels.
A-N-G-E-L-S Go home team go! Of class, of love, and of life. Now kill her!

<5> Wishing them well, and wishing them home. How does life Take Turns Like These?
I found Johannes, next morning (obsess)
Taking his breakfast on the terrace,
Taking his companionship with the birds
In the too-old aviary.

Oh, Johannes, we all say to him.
Why to bother with the aviary in the East Wing?
It’s so old!

The room is old, dark, and unused.
It’s dusty and we all know it.

But the birds still fly,
All through the ceiling and over the iron vats.
They’re like overpowering mongrels that just fly and fly until all the weak oily sparrow meat slips off.
Like oily rubber on a car.
It just falls off, doesn’t it?

Peering through, again, in a routine
Iron vats and silken ceilings.
Fire wrought devilry
That brought us such joy.

(It’s too cold.)
(The room is far away, and too cold.)
(and a lady has died there!)

The electricity has long gone since there.
But the birds remain.

They remain free to fly,
Little four legged marvels of our mistake in planning.
Oh how tragic…
Our mistake,
In life and our mistake in all
That has ever mattered in this silly tub of a house.

When you look up the stairs, you can continue to look until you feel angry
And the ceiling caves in around your eyes.
You ask it, scream and shout it.
Oh Drat! Oh Snap!
Soon you spill your wine and now you’ll clean. Get down on those marvels and scrub!

<6> The Furrows
Down further from the aviary, (sustain)
We pass a ramp
By a large, monster window that glares at us.
That glares at us.
That glares at us.
That glares at us. Until.we.get.stuck….

It must have a pillow section with 20 layers.
For us to sit on them! Correct!
Along its banked tiers.

Oh, surely, but when I look out I see the furrows,
And understand it all.
The clawarrows have pierced the furrows.
When I look out, I see the village; yes.
But my glory what a space between.

The Elves carry the platters
Over and done through the floor.
They carry them empty;
Carry the wind.
Because no one eats the furrows anymore.
The wind done gone again, tomorrow, but rarely no more.

<7> Let’s go on a hunt!
Waiting in my office, (deplore)
Down by the house down the road.
I am wondering about those furrows.
Aren’t you?
I’m sure we all are.
And that’s OK.

At this moment I am being serenaded by a threat.
Once again we all will.
It’s…um well…a fact of life.

Truly, I believed you would understand!
Oh Jolliness!
AWWW, zammilia bonniaer tuba bomm!
(that little reprieve)
(Let’s kiss the snowflakes, Johannes.)
(What, no?)
(oh that’s cool with me.)
(GoodBYE Johannes.)

the monster-the worst thing to fear.
Congratulations, Mrs. Fisher.
You’re not the monster.
Neither is Mrs. Yuknis.
Or Dr. Monks Oh good lets keep searching until we get a hit.
Click, Click, BOOOMMMM!!
It’s my Famous Cuisine Tutor.
Mrs. Candromie.
I truly dislike her ways of cooking.
She…adds the spices in at the wrong intervals.

<8> Rivulet Handparty
Oh Dera!
Oh Dera!
I did not spell that wrong, since you are Dera.
You were born Dera Hanover Mixxington!
In (12-45-77788- 1875.) the house by the end of the road.
In the room that is now the office.
Let’s go hunting for your origins.
I am certain you just know me
And not my mother.
She never held it and now we have a stain.
Oh it just tickles my rivulets!

In the Grass
Wriggling through the tiny naturals of dirt
That form rivulets.
I find a secret
An accurate copy of the life that once followed me around.
Shed it off Jonathan Shed it off!
Watcha’ back!
It gonna’ eatcha’!
Bad and so bad you can never decide to be…. (blasé)
And I know you hate it.
You can never take it.
Cause I’m unbreakable.
You, Jim McGreevey…
You are broken.

the inner circle
of triangular strength
is heating in
we in and its out and I love
for you to suffice me, I will not respond.

forever inside the night
we will be devils
we will be locked inside
heating this glowing oil
living on the scraps again.

quite bluntly,
you lay there on the chaise
as if nothing has happened
noting rotten things but your own private circle
tell me how do you feel as me?
do you feel so nice

the bears rummage in the town with
the room that is covered in redleather
small silver crystal cut
flat and divisive and clearly blue
plenty in this room commands me.

remember the time I jumped down the staircase?
all those fantasies that just didn't sort right?
well congratulations, Jonathan.
you are now
you are now...
somewhat older, perhaps.

terribly inkier
living in the Halloween scraps
much repentence
but no cure for the sickness.
(too bright!) oh, turn the neons off!
turn them off, like rubber lamps
(congratulations, congratulations) u keep sayin 2 yerself
for my tea (before you count one, two, three)
I keep sayin to myslef
and then exhaustion arrives

cold nips at my face
slowly unpins the canvas of fibre
slowly melts the frozen green threads
and washes me free.
carries me down the river,
I am thawed.


Handed up to me
the little parcel was handed up the rocks,
over to my head
now I see the brightness!

Oh, what an expanse of sky!
For a man as such, a lover as much
I cannot cast aside this flowering of hope!
Given to me, over my head, I'm living in the sky,
when the eye pulses.
to the back of the fabric,
I see the ocean
frozen in my midst.

I sat, and asked myself:
What are the parameters of my midst?
the stupid pressured thing, the little dandy
he told me, so I believed.
the eye pyulses to the limit

one leg, across to a second
up into a waist.
severed at an angle
up past my arms, through my fingers
downward, reaching my head.

I see 5, 456, 789 trees
suffering in dark unison.
I see an idea suffering in the blackness, and I can see it!
As I can see the trees.
Grasping each tree,
given up to me
my feet are raised in gratitude.

For your hand has littered my spacious allusion.
These are your spells...

And they come from your spellbooks. Engrave them into stone for they are more precious than time...

But before you do that, however, you should copyright your work if you haven't already. There are theives and triflers who will plagerize and capitolize if given the chance. This is why many hesitate to post their valuable writings on the internet.

Nice work, hopefully some others catch on!

I really would like to join, but I write in my own language: Dutch.
I did write one or two things in English, but they are not really that good. Still I will you let you in on one.

The damp forest surrounds me,
and I am entangled by the air itself.
The green light fills my eyes,
until I cannot see anymore
The birds, the breeze and the falling drops
sing an enchanting lullaby;
I stumble, fall - and my drowsy lips
feel the kiss of Diana.
the following is something I wrote for a voluntary writing class I have every tuesday:Data Bank

My photoreceptors focus on the buildings
They are everywhere, stretching into the cloudy sky
There are no shadows in these bowels
The sun cannot shine where megaliths blot out its intensity
Since I am curious I open my memory banks
I recall the data of this place’s past

Two of the tallest towers climb into the sky
Then fade away along with hundreds of other structures
Other, smaller buildings sometimes replace them
But eventually they all slip away
As a lush ocean of green vegetation spills atop the landscape.
I watch as a battle between tanned humans begins
Spears and arrows tear across the sky like bullets
Some are lit with fire
There is a rain of thin projectiles and the continuous noise
Of bodies thumping atop the green Earth

The ground lurches under my feet and I see a seashore in the distance
The sky darkens to a pitch and rumbles with lightening
But only briefly, and it soon disappears to reveal a long column
Of colossal lizards lumbering into a blue sunset
There is a commotion not far away
One of the creatures is bawling and bracing for an impact from the brush
Like torpedoes a trio of predators emerge and hurl through the air towards their target
They leap high into the sky, their audible hiss stirring the components of my ears
Their claws dig into the gray flesh and yank the beast into the sand
Lifting a plume of dirt into the air
The animal’s bawling stops, and its surrounding counterparts grow wary

The land is suddenly overrun with lava and oceans of bright crimson that glows
Pillars of fire rise from volcanoes and stab into a black, billowing sky
There is a wall of flame in the distance that stretches into both horizons
It spits fiery boulders and meteors onto the land
Then it all falls apart, piece by piece the world is ripped into a cloud of vapor
The sun’s glow fades into oblivion, into a nebula of mucus-resembling material
There’s a violent flash, and suddenly the matter is back inside another star
This one’s much larger and colored a deep red. I can see claws of fire
Flaring up from its surface
Then the vision disappears, and I am back in the city, where I started.

I begin trudge into a store and ask the salesperson for a container of oil.

There's no meter in this poem/story and I've noticed that at the bottom sentences end in two lines. Ignore that and treat each sentence as one line. If you'd rather read the converted notepad document I'll post it as an attachment.
:D Merlijn-I think you should go ahead and post your poems in Dutch. There's an understanding and beauty to poetry that trancends even knowing the meanings of the words. Seeing the kind of rhythm your English poetry has, I would like to read what you have in Dutch. Even if I can't understand it, it's your real poetry.
well it appears that I was wrong. I guess you could dl the file for your own...personal enjoyment.
:bugeye: Pollux- I like your poetry, yet the great thing about free verse is its ability to hit real hard with short, meaningful lines and you're not really utilizing that. But that's beside the point.

Here's another one:

Files in a lovely correction
drawer A for the picking
flies in a jar.
the flies are fat, and plump
I read the files and they tell me facts

flies in air
of lovely stone whisps
never ceased before death
as air wrapped
Providence in surrender.

as outdoors cried and heaven alarmed.
to never be right
or cancel my harm of hate,
for one to be sure
and one to be had,

Humanity leads a double session,
for two winks a fool
one traded his trade for a quintet,
his blanket for a strange set of tongs;
one long profusion of commerce.
and so the grass commenced
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Yogamojo we actually have nothing to fear by posting our thoughts here, since each post is dated we would take them to court and easily win all or more money they made off of our material.

I'll get back to ya, congrats.
I like this topic

[Beautiful Vampire]
I see you approach, I see you come.
You want my house and car,
With chatter nice and looks so good,
I almost fell in your dirty trap.

You’re so sticky and sweet, that I can see,
Through your net of love and greed.
I’m nothing to you: her eyes are saying,
So deep and blue like killer sharks jaw.

You see my suit and nothing else.
Typical slut you are,
Worse than vampires teeth,
You want to drain me out.

I laugh at her and have my fun.
She thinks - I fell,
Blinded by her sugar voice,
So sweet as a box of lemonade.

I take her to Transylvania,
Saying: let’s get married there;
And leave her in a castle old,
Hope she finds our nighttime host.

I’m crossing the border,
Hiding behind the trees,
Making the night to be my cover;
And suddenly I’m spotted by a guard,
Who asks for my ID.
My ID?! what do you mean,
What’s my ID,
What makes me so different,
From you and other?
My location, job or dog,
My place of birth or name,
And what it all means to you?
I am myself a unique ID,
That cannot be faked or cloned.
I am for what I am,
Citizen of earth, just like you,
But so different in so many ways;
I am what I made me to be.

(c) by Mitago @ www.everypoet.com
P.S. Mitago=Avatar(I'm not stealing anybody's work:D)

;) Ahhh...perfect awkwardness. Such a sentimental feeling. You are very intense and very right, Avatar.

;) Good point, Madame Pollux. The thing is actually knowing if someone is using your poetry. They could be using it on the underground circuit and slowly, over years, accumulate millions. Then when you crack the story you really crack the bucket, so to speak. I'd love to hit some dirty pig on its face with 'Monoliths', my current little private collection. Let's go, girls!
this is one of mine its a free verse thing going on , so enjoy

The perfect sunrise
From Jonathan to Christie

I love you like the moon that shines, that is a reflection of the sun that burns brightly,
Like your eyes
Its like the blanket of stars, in the midnight hour, I dare not focus on many, when one burns so brightly like the one before me
I gasp for breath from a heavenly body, that is the beauty of the entire universe in its glory

It’s like a crystal shoreline, in the night,
There is no need for a candle for the love is bright
Its only you that can do this to me
It’s you the star I want to see
It’s your breath I want to breathe
It’s my soul I wish to bequeath
And intrust with you
I never then would worry of what to do
So long as I’m with you

The moon shines, with its glory passed form the sun that is in its self-apart of the universe in all its glory
Like a love unsurpassed, like a feeling that comes out at last, its you the one, all the time.
Like a restless sunshine
Like a wave that crashes into the shoreline

A curve in the sprinkle of water, so eloquent in appearance
But yet so complex to recreate its brilliance
Such a simple element, that is the basis of all existence
A world of feeling that is the distance
Between the sun and the end of sol
Witch is thee only measurement of the soul
And its experience of love, that makes them whole
A beginning to prase the universes extol
And the unimaginable price of its beauty
Like the beginning of a nebulas that is cloudy
No one can know the reasons why
It’s such a hard question to imply

The moon now shines above your eyes, means nothing to me, when you cry.
Like tears of heaven and the shimmer of the hope not yet dead in me
Of this another heavenly body, circling to its doom
Down the spiral to its death that looms
It it’s self the star in the cold night sky
Radiating its thoughts in rhymes
Through the vastness of space
Sending warm kisses to your face
To create we must destroy
The child now runs, trips over the toy
Trying to understand its self
The universe who else
Couldn’t be as pretty as thee
But you Christie

The moon is now setting over the horizon, the sun comes up to bring forth the warmth
To a planet An AU away from its source
To something invisible that grabs with force
The light, that shines into the eyes
Of you, the perfect sunrise

written by: jonathan ryan alligood
Here it is...

Originally posted as it's own stupid THREAD!

Oh DEAR! THis is some great stuff!
This is Great!

Between the sun and the end of sol
Witch is thee only measurement of the soul
And its experience of love, that makes them whole
A beginning to prase the universes extol
And the unimaginable price of its beauty

So perfect! I don't know if you meant to say 'witch' but I think it's better than 'which'. You wrote a beautiful poem-are you a professional? Because this seems to have some incredible classical underpinnings. If not, you are a natural with more talent than you can imagine.

The Earth is iced, isn't it
Exceprts form this afternoon's jam session:

[The importance of trees to my left
I am now on my cotton slip-sheet
looking through
my little portion

three band
of color immense
it is scaring the birds form their roosts
it is slowly drifting; inching.
I wish to play Brammhes, yet sky calls.
soft pillow, or dome, or leftish stitch
sky always calls]

[In my chaos, wreckage,
in my red core of wet, mushy tells me
to be strong
to do good
to be overly, succinctly, good. ( I meant wrong)

to seek an exploded life
in a white, banded bird cage now
no more steel drumbucket

symbolisms stick.

bands drift
too far, so to you can catch on them
pour moi, pour toi, pour elle, pour lui,
as I

never in steel unison
cried trees of water.
I utilize an ability just to 'say'
manifesto for corporate endangerment
tommorrow, intensify, maybe today
slam you in court
there's that smell again
Victorian whole grain goodness.]

[slowly turning purple
I turn cold-blooded
I feel...better
I feel turned upon a side.]

[For you to seek my truth,
I feel capable.
One more upon the old oak tree,
I tie you a ribbon.
Deep down, I sample your flavor.

set hole in my socks
set deep in my life.
created words of meaning,
of soft absulence in my life,
of never parting to my side
Flow to my life, bypass me.

We tried to apply rouge to your face;
You're a clown, Non?
I wish not to be you,
to be mean, in other may'aps words.
So in a clear, crystalline package. (limper,limper,limper,limper,there)
I am not funny, not quite gone.
not quite straddling a cliff of looning.]
Re: Here it is...

Originally posted by Congratulations
Originally posted as it's own stupid THREAD!

Oh DEAR! THis is some great stuff!
This is Great!

Between the sun and the end of sol
Witch is thee only measurement of the soul
And its experience of love, that makes them whole
A beginning to prase the universes extol
And the unimaginable price of its beauty

So perfect! I don't know if you meant to say 'witch' but I think it's better than 'which'. You wrote a beautiful poem-are you a professional? Because this seems to have some incredible classical underpinnings. If not, you are a natural with more talent than you can imagine.

The Earth is iced, isn't it

well im glad you liked it , it took along time to write that.
im just glad some one can enjoy it. because she didn't.....:(
this is another one,

Wishes of twilight

Darkness and light
Sparks in the wind
Untouched and twinkle with delight
Uncaring and unshowing concern for what’s below
The earth in darkness and shadow

From nadir looking up
pondering ideas erupt
what is this sight
here in the midnight
the twinkle in the star
the burning thoughts that char
wondering as a child with perplexity
what is this spell you cast on me

clouds and haze
what can keep this brightness from my gaze
shining through all around you
your star IM transfixed upon
until we part, until dawn

never can you be blocked by a nimbus
always moving like Hesperus
bright and never dim
in the galaxy you swim
and I will watch and I will stare
for you are the one that is so rare

color ebony surrounding the light
in the shades of white
you are seen through the umbra
these things of scintilla
the brightest speck to blind the eye
but yet, even then id look to the sky
searching where are you, set and confusion
please don’t be an illusion
the night sky has become unclear
please don’t disappear

reverse eclipse as you wonder from my sight
watching, running as you disappear into the daylight
I will wait here, for you
And your beautiful shimmering hue
In the light always wishing for twilight
Wait Again to see you at night

by: jonathan ryan alligood, was copy writted jan-31-2002
here's one more from me

[Joke of the Gods of Love]
I walk and walk all the time
Through the desert of a melting sand
Leaving a trail of a desperate man
Looking in the distance and smiling of my luck
Which turned out to be another joke of the Gods of love
Making to believe in the mirage of love
Love that was never known or met

And as a vicious snake in sand
There's a danger of a deserts game
For I see the dream of my life, arising in my sight
Thinking of it as another mirage of love
And letting it go as a fantasy of my mind
And after a month or so, I realize how I was wrong
Believing in my luck, which turned out to be
Another joke of the Gods of love

But all’s not lost I say and pray, for it was just a dream
A dream of a future glimpse
And a look in the deserts face
Another joke of the Gods of love
Who know how to play this game of love
You, my flower in the melting sand
You who arises from the sands of time

(c) by Mitago @ www.everypoet.com

I am Nothing

Time again welds it’s hands
Circling to doom, are the sands
Thee hour glass once was filled
But now my dream has been killed
As the wisdom comes at a price of my youth
I can now see the truth

Wasted and diminished if I leave nothing
Could I be remembered for just being

Is a life that is ordinary and plain
A life at all, wasted and wane
Forgotten is this man
Was that fates plan
To condemn me from the start
To make me want to rip apart
What I’ve done
What is seen
What I could have been

Now I look through my eternally dead eyes
On to my life played tell I memorize
How plain how ordinary it all was
Can’t it be remembered for something

Is it wasted, is it dim
My out look or is it grim
Doomed to feel betrayed
Life now confirms what I’m afraid
I mean nothing in the scheme
The bigger picture now I scream
Shout to the heavens to be heard
I just want to be assured
This was the blue print nothing more
My heart now blacked to the feeling abhor
I realize this life to be nothing
I’m remembered for nothing
The way it has to be
The way it has to be
You would torture me?
You are all so very good! I´m baffled...
I don´t even know if I dare to post something here, among the professionals...;)

But I will anyway, just to torture you....:p
I´m trying to write lyrics to songs actually, so maybe you can help me improve them, so that they become more rythmical....if you want to, that is.
Here´s the first one:

When we love

In a forest full of light
telling secrets is the play
running across the bushes
of new life

Becoming the creatures dreamt of
in ancient dreams of future visions
celebrating the fullness of the moment
indulging our souls

We are the flowing circles
in between times of excess
never forgetting who we are
always seeking new ways to be
explorers of reality

We will win this game
because there is no way to lose
growing fresh essence
of exuberant light and
losing our minds
in equations of mystery

This is who we are
when we love