QUESTION Who was it that wrote the poem that had a sentence made up from the first letter of every line which read... The virgin mary fills my hearts desire, but arsehole set my prick on fire ?Oscar wilde
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! I don't really know- I don't read much by him. I'm really into Sylvia Plath right now- especially the one poem "Medusa" from Ariel. Heavy symbolism on the amniotic sac/ocean complex... Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! on another note (to bbcboy), I bought 'To Venus and back' and 'Strange Little Girls' and liked them very much- I mean a ton. I get what you mean about the lyrics, although I seem to understand them perfectly. Takes someone strange to know someone strange, I guess.
Please congrats if you do nothing else buy 'Under the pink' It will blow you away Have you been blown that well recently? Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Don't you worry, I get my fair share of 'blows'....
A Believer's Guide To Drifting On the one hand, we have this couple - So young, so connected, So grounded. The balloon they released together Into the Maryland air Held two cards in tow, As it found its way Between their hands And the Balloon maker's place. Now balloons don't think for themselves, As Einstein and others have shown, But I'd like to show some respect For this particular helium holder With some sort of hidden agenda. (I'd even like to think it was smiling.) For two hundred miles later, On the other hand, There's this older couple (Plain country folk, as it were) So empty, so needful, So drifting. One day this here couple Finds a red balloon On the back forty, Two cards still dangling. One card had the address Of a church in Frederick, Where a young couple Launched a red balloon, And then had a picnic. The other card Told this drifting Farmer that somebody He had abandoned In his own back forty, Still loved his sorry hide, And wanted to talk Over the fence some more. This is where the story Would have ended for us, If the farmer and his Suddenly beautiful wife Hadn't decided to hang up A little red balloon On the door of their simple farmhouse, And ride into town Sunday. (Folks who saw them That day Thought they looked Mighty grounded.)
pack your bags and leave for good burn the bridge behind you think of the reason why you left and your heart says "i loved her...too". ----------------------------------------------------- bottle of life and bottle of death one will heal you and one stops your breath drink one and you'll be on your way which one should i choose, for i think i'll stay. ------------------------------------------------------- You are the gravity the world is yours i loved you and i think i still do but you can't change my course ----------------------------------------------------- good memories, greatest friends bright nights, darkest days water flows into water "don't leave me", she says Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
The pigs’ hooves would be cheapened, also, When the tools would be shaven Glass forms an obsession of creating itself into a hoof- I form an obsession of keeping the glass, It forms an obsession of wanting me. I form an idea that maybe it follows its reflection “It is inanimate” Mother chides at me, to me I might as well try it; it might as well not have to. I might as well try on the pigs’ hooves. Ousted, the sallow pigs find sleep in daylight They find solace in their hay. It is May For the pigs coexist with the flowers I would look at them, if I could, I would watch, noting maybe a spot, or a blotch, or a nose On them I might be able to see them well, if I could I was far too shadowed, I wish I may see the pigs now, I wish, To see them, that’s all. Just; to glimpse
we were the hunted, without will we were so young and feeble. when we made our first kill we were just hungry people. ------------------------------------ what a nice way to start a day knowing that you're free blocking out the world of hate i'll just have a cup of tea. ------------------------------------------ "my last words? why do you care? you want me to pray and beg? look into my eyes, if you dare" said a man, rope around his neck. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! ... Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
Hey Varkas- you have an undeniable thirst for poetry that is evident from your many postings in this thread- However, I would offer you these crits: 1. Don't just write 4 line stanzas and stop at that. Let your ideas develop further; expand your structure. 2. Take less time focusing on rhyming- you have some great ideas that could be made into poems, but you don't let them incubate. Try just writing- all of your small ideas will come into a bigger picture and you'll feel like you've not only made great poetry but done some self-excavation. 3. Try to abandon your metrical rigidity (just a little bit) and delve into the world of free verse. You'll see that your meaning comes across better. In all, you write great poetry, but you're doing it in a straightjacket. Poetry imitates life, so give it some more variety. Thanksos-
1. you are absolutely right about that. i'll try..... ; 2. i'm obsessed with this rhyming thing. can't help it. i've done also that 'just writing' thing. i haven't posted those, 'cause they are too personal (that means they are BS Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! ) 3. but this is what i do. i want to keep my poems like that. i want to see what i can say in 4 lines... Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! (but look number 1...) my straightjacket could be (and i'm sure it is) my english. i don't know enough english to express myself like you or others here (which i really admire. i've always wanted to write without limits). but thanks for the criticism... and keep posting those poems too. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
As i woke up in my tomb knowing that no one's around only one question came to my mind: "from where comes that sound?" i didn't know then, what i had heard the sound came from something i'd not found. i had to lie down and rest (for they had buried me upright and firmly bound) and then i heard that sound again: it came from my chest. --------------------------------------------- i did the same crimes you had done and they want me dead, the whole town all because my cap does not glisten in the sun, beggar said to a man with a crown. --------------------------------------------- love between two creatures hides all their earthly features. by taking another form, they think they can love while you blink. when the time between the blinks grows longer, can it be measured, whose love is stronger?
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! I like it, varkasPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! although in a few spits the meaing stumbles: originally posted by varkas Now, L1, L2, and L3 are good, but L4 seems to be awkward. Are you the beggar, and if so, what could you be moaning about if you have the oppurtunity to speak with the king? You make it seem like you aren't the beggar, and in a sense give me a feeling the you are trying to give an external outlet to something you feel. Also, the 'man with a crown' metaphor is a bit elementary and almost (sorryPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! ), laughable. You could say ' to the regal gown'- that might better portary the political nature of 'us and them' I am getting from this stanza- alienate the symbols of power....anyway, just some suggestions.
The Grampians When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; Here I was, gnawing on non-chalant midnight berries, unknowing, just talking. If you may'aps go further in, Cooking 12 avacodoes by the white of the streaked cold and heating brushed porcelain, like a doll's kiss, on the steam. And if it were a doll's face, of cracked and dissappointed paint, it cannot subsist, we are wrong To see her strapped, naked, and bare for the whole world is a clos'ed window; if gone deep, past my gnarled roots, It is always past my protection.
' to the regal gown' : and now you telling this, after ive humiliated myself in front of the whole world... Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! then again, i would do anything to make these thing rhyme... but seriously, i wasn't familiar with that phrase... (excuses....Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! just writing... Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! one more edit: man wearing a crown.... no? Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
i think it's time to resurrect this thread...Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! do you hear who's laughing at you? do you hear it at all? you can see them too just look up, and -one by one- they'll fall ------------------------------------------------- what is life, why are we here? is there a deeper meaning to everything do we have the answers, are we even near, when life itself, says: "don't cut my only wing"
It needs a little bit more of work [Clouds and Stars] Rain of stars in a cloudy night; sky is there, but you have no sight; meteors falling, people dying, death is near - sky is clear. Where were you that night under the moonlit sky, I wanted to love and dance with your tears, but you were not near. What was I to think to find you away; were you a shadow or a dream of my passion, do you love or hate or simply forget - hurricane in my mind. If it was a day and I knew your name, I'd probably look to see you again, till I find my end or forget your smile and traces in my heart. But all is dark and stars are there- their light is filling up my soul; you are not here to recall your name, I love the stars and forget your tears. So I danced with the night and with the starlight in my heart. I knew - I was god, everything could be done. No need for humans or social problems; no need for more laughter, There's simply no limits. Let them come - comets of haterid, meteors and wars I fear only clouds. ------------------ ©2002 by Avatar
LIFE WITH CATHARSIS What time seems overgrown Dangerous Middle of nature, a solid prick Dodging into god’s ankle, irks him Calamitous markings, upturned By unloving skeptics who so Broadly accept my unlovely whore Accept it, to eat it, absorb it And you’ll find me, slick and ready On a black and blue rock, demented By only you, the cronies come, and follow Your cronies come to infatuate see me reeling like a stationary Angry pink salmon, like meat With lemon and a garnish, and already Praying for the oven’s motherly warmth Praying for the blue fairy to make me real, again Will it kill me MAY DAY Concussed barriers, and depressed high water marks Hiding the leeches scampering through the rift, by My hand, following its own neural trap To the center of its delusion Who could have said? And who would have known Ribbons in the air, being tried and tied to its orb A little girl, in the hair, of it A little leg, with shaking distance, my leg, Presiding madly Who would have shaken the apple dapper tree? May day is here, with fire and speed Upon a carnival, a sword of socks From the cupboard come the plates, the finery, to deck upon Our crockery, to leave about Torrid seascapes, hugging closely like the flint in my side My fighter Torrid hunger, like the rocks in my heart, Reaching out swords like devils, tears so delicate Drops of gray Murky passion in my core, fitting Its foot to prop up its leg With the greatest speed, the greatest withal, agile hands, I’ll be along Torn to you, bound to the silence of the devil’s will, “Ladies in passing, holding ladies in waiting” Denizens of delight holding their own.
varkas- good rhymin'....well, you know....keep it upPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! avatar- very strong message- I'm getting that the 'you' is most likely not a person but a metaphor for an old way of thinking- very clever. However, I get a very strong sense of egotism by the end wth your proclamation of your divinity...but it seems to go with the overall metaphor of meteors and 'divine' events to certain other life events. Godd workPlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
The Downward spiral, lost, the reflection shallow. No one feels this. Nothing to believe, all that matters has left. Absence of faith. Taken in by it, music envelopes over. The pain is gone. Old new once again, figures past stand tall. Signs point elsewhere, lost, this place left behind. I do not believe myself. -Yeah I know I'm not very good, but I had a lot of fun when I wrote this. Probably one of the few school assignments like it that just came naturally. A good release.
to avoid building a life that counts (this line doesn't mean anything, i just wanted the damn thing to rhyme) one must be sure it's the 'white horse' he mounts maybe that's what it means, 'killing the time'. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
