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….) Shut. Now the windows are closed so I can fall asleep more easily The windows are closed so nothing Not even air can Get In Here! Shut. Not Even If They Roll It In by the barrel A barrel, Two barrels. Some barrels. A couple or a few barrels. Go home trucks! <2>Idealism 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. IT IS THE MATTER OF ULTIMATE WEALTH! 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. Papa. 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! All… 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. DON’T WE? 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? 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. Oh, how THEY SQUEALED! 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. Right? Truly, I believed you would understand! Oh Jolliness! AWWW, zammilia bonniaer tuba bomm! Cabtra tryuli HHHHH YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! (that little reprieve) (Let’s kiss the snowflakes, Johannes.) (What, no?) (oh that’s cool with me.) (GoodBYE Johannes.) (Ha) (ah h 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!! I KNNNOOOWW WHHHOO ITT ISSS!!! 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. SECTION TWO 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 (thin) 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. (III) CONCLUSION 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! Namaste...
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. Diana 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 tuesdayPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image!ata 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.
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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.
: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 files. 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 -outdoors.
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. ++++++++++++Bonus++++++++++++ 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 workPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image!)
Oh MARIAH! Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Ahhh...perfect awkwardness. Such a sentimental feeling. You are very intense and very right, Avatar. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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... 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.....Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
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
another 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...Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! But I will anyway, just to torture you....Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! 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 Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
