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does anyone write poetry?

suncloud

suncloud

Well-known member
just curious, and if you would share. if so, i'll start:

footsteps

following footsteps
footstep in the sand
plodding forward
the hunger of the land
the wind erases
erases the path behind
no way back
back to my mind

visions of ships
on oceans of water
fading away
like memories of a daughter
with each step
the memory fades
until i reach the end
the end in future days

this is all a dream :
one i cannot escape
hoping and pleading
that my mind will break
with each step
the memorys glare
i'm on the road
the road to nowhere.

*not everything i write is this depressing.
 
Ah poetry, I will dig up my old favorite. My writing kinda diminished after I stopped drinking way back....

btw nicely done with the poem.
 
black love

black love your touch invades
you keep me warm through the winter night
you banish the chill that threatens to maim
your taste reminds me of the past;
when i dreamed of her
(to coffee - my first love)
 
Hot tempered, Dark natured…

Vile is the sea of our minds.
Horrid is our destinies.
For herein lies within my soul.
A beast that gets the best of me.
Furious and savage, and primitive and fowl.
A pure animalistic hatred I cannot allow.
Though when exposed in a weakened state.
My conscious mind is up for debate.
And that nature that is within us all.
Climbs over the more fragile moral wall.
Pouring a river of blame in my mind.
Emotional tornadoes begin to blind.
Flames rise from once green grass.
And I wonder if this will ever pass.
Power surges through my veins and
Dark deep hatred takes the reigns.
From there I’m guided not be me.
With no more will I fly in glee.
Severing, tearing, shredding, and shouting.
Once I’m there I wont be routing.
Its forward and onward and till the death.
Anger and violence are oh so vile.
But yet here they reign, again, for awhile. . .


I wrote that one I think right after HS.
 
soulgem


sunlit days
endless nights
fondly i remember
your playful love bites

one with nature
running naked in the mist
quietly we fell
quieter we kissed

two were one
and one were two
inseparably apart
i swore i'd love you

i see it happening:
your soul twisting and turning
writhing like a flame
scarring and burning

tearing me asunder
with raking claws
shredding flesh
without even a pause

drifting apart
my mind grew weak
these were the times
when we would not speak

emotions grow darker
deeper they lie
like embers of fire
they blacken and die

body is failing:
promises broken
meaningless movements
words not spoken

unholy dagger
life fluids drain
endless questions
going insane

forgotten is the future
lost is the past
the present is ebbing;
thoughts fading fast

horrors i've heard
my love i gave
these secrets
i carry to the grave
 
hey hey hey, you have a bunch ready. I am using flash drives trying to find mine :think: unfair!
 
to my best friend i could never date - my best work to date - AB/AB rhyme scheme with a twist:

Near perfection, except for a smile
Another for whom i must pray
That you will recover and stay awhile
All I ask for every day
Love that warms the heart
Instead of fading from sight
Enough to keep me from crossing the line

I'm caught and caressed by your light

Love that warms the heart
Only needing it to survive
Vulnerable when you depart
Everything you are in my life

Your beauty is inscribed in the earth
On every day of a flower's birth
Unstoppable as is my love true

* first letters from each line spell "natalie i love you"
 
child of winter

oh, sweet winter
how tranquil you look
as you consider
how you've painted your world
serene, at peace
i see you lift your brush
and mark the earth one more time
hands on your neck
a sigh escapes your lips
paint brush flickers across
the canvas, no longer
white.
 
breathe

i breathe in the tranquil dawn
expanding my lungs.
breathe out.
taste the fiber, the essence
of the day
clear your mind
and dive in
water sluices around me
like a knife through skin
and i take it all;
the fear, and chill
evaporate under the sudden
crush to release this
trapped energy.
inhale again, keep going
the waves are getting strong,
water turning dark.
where am i?
exhale
i've never been a swimmer
when they say
"how far can you swim"
i say - to the shore.
breathe
 
life or something like it

fleeting images
echo through my mind
memories of a time gone by
when i tried too hard
to place someone
above my own wants
my own needs
to value them
for their future
instead of my present
burned
scarred
the pain is almost unbearable,
as i tread this crimson desert
of my own making
in despair.
for this sacrifice
all i ask for
is for you to fly
on your own wings
no regrets.
 
thunderstorm

falling down
all around me
dancing in the sky
you hit the ground so hard
you bounce back
in denial
like the ride
should never have stopped
warm within my sanctuary
i watch you cascade,
torrent, lighten, cease
how i wish i could
step outside
and let you engulf me.
i could almost
drown in you.
 
without

without her there are no signs
nothing to guide my path
caught and trapped in eternal vines
i've lost the heart to laugh

without her there is no light
living every day without hope
loosing the courage to fight
loosing the strength to cope

her beauty keeps me alive
and every day i pray
for i need her to survive
that i will see her well today

it hurts so much to know
that one day i will not see your face
loosing one who's beauty does glow
nothing that this world could replace

what use in going on
without her by my side
waking alone to face the dawn
so in her do i confide:

your beauty is eternal, before time begun
when angels walked the sky
your face resplendant in the sun
on heavens wings do you fly

i've loved you now and forever
although i could not bear to tell
but you must know, now or never
in my heart you dwell

emptiness would be my life, which once shone so bright
hoping against hope, that you would be with me tonight
who else would i have you be?
love that will always shine. katie.
 
Pride

i wish you knew
how proud i am of you
your strength inspires me
drives away the darkness
your confidence amazes me
in spite of the odds
you're a dreamer
have faith little angel
never fear
let your dreams
give your spirit wings
you'll never fly
if you're afraid to fall
but i promise you this:
you'll fly on your first try
you'll survive where others can't
or won't
you're secret weapon against the world
is you

reminds me of who i used to be
 
God

In time i find, finding truths, truths of life, life in me.
Powers to heal, healing hope, hope lost in time, time is now.
Focus on self, selfish reasons, reasons to blame, blaming hurts.
Wonderful gifts, gifting greatness, greatness in me, mine forever.
Spirits united, unite under the sun, sunny day today, today is great.
Learning love, loving to help, helping others, others are me.
Unifed power, power in numbers, number one, one for all.
Musical notes, noted dually, dual thoughts, thoughts of god.
Charity for all, all in need, needed by all, all too often forgotten.
Remeber roots, roots in purity, pure thought, thoughtfull ideas.
Wondering about the path, paths led astray, astray souls, soul of life.
Individual achievement, achieving clarity, clarity for understanding, understaning peace.
Silent cares, caring constantly, constant urge, urging to change, change the world.
Now i see, see the path, paths of virtue, virtuous action, act like love.
Growth of ideas, ideas of difference, differing from the past, past is wishing.
Making love, love forever, forever is now, now i am god.
 
A friend once gave me great advice by saying, "your writing is great, but you have to write happy poems too!".

To me this is a perfect metaphor for perspective and optimism, dont always focus on the negatives for the "sun still shines behind the clouds."
 
Sweet pea flowers stitched in pillows soft as skin
This divine healing of the quiet room so dark so aged
I walk with pasts such tragic deaths and their lives begin
Silent whispers of spirits leave me to turn the page

Deceased like their mother who held it all
Abandoned like their father who threw it all away
Children playing in the gardens faces appalled

This ghost town is restless
Though it seems like it's voiceless
They're screaming your name
Calling you to play

And since we've been broken
Like porcelain dolls
We just want to hear you say
That they're coming our way

The seat belt snaps and her face is planted on the mirror
The blood gushes out and runs loose like it was never meant to be seen
What's left of the liquor in the father's hands
He's a killer
A life taker
But that's the price you pay when you're giving up your family

I still hear the whispers in my head
I still see them shiver in the rain
Take us away
Take us to a better place

(( Daniel Evan <~~ me 2007 ))

I don't know about your guys but I like turning my poetry into music. I play the keyboards.. you guys play any musical instruments?
 
Back when I was going through some extreme family issues and had a bout of depression I wrote poetry to help me vent. **** works!
 
We who hold ourselves up for display
and we who dance demons away
We who ambile to hold sway
and we whose sculpting hands mold clay
We whose ambition breeds insight
and we whose knowledge brings new light
We who master self to gain might
decide who is tribute, and who is trite...

and are burned on stakes for fool's delight.
 
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One of the first posts by rhunt won, i think another poster princegeorgebod was fricken funny and big vrunga was good too, before my time id have liked to enter :(
 
Wrote this one during a break-up

Believe

I could not climb the ladder,
Too afraid to fall.
But failure should not matter,
So I rose to climb the wall.
The further away that you push me,
The closer I feel to you…

Every night by your side, held you tight, badly wanted to believe,
That your kiss would be there every morning for me.
As I slept and I dreamt of that possibility,
It makes no sense to me,
But the best way not to fall is simply to just believe…

As I awoke the next morning
I could not make a sound
Reality consumed me
As I fell onto the ground
The further away you push me
The closer I feel to you…

The longer that you would kiss me,
The more I’d believe it’s true…
 
Rodja said:
Wrote this one during a break-up

Believe

I could not climb the ladder,
Too afraid to fall.
But failure should not matter,
So I rose to climb the wall.
The further away that you push me,
The closer I feel to you…

Every night by your side, held you tight, badly wanted to believe,
That your kiss would be there every morning for me.
As I slept and I dreamt of that possibility,
It makes no sense to me,
But the best way not to fall is simply to just believe…

As I awoke the next morning
I could not make a sound
Reality consumed me
As I fell onto the ground
The further away you push me
The closer I feel to you…

The longer that you would kiss me,
The more I’d believe it’s true…
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i cant beleive that this same person that wrote this,is the same person that will walk in the ring and knock you the fcuk out!:bruce3:..j.k..bro!..that was beautiful!:woohoo:
 
bslick69b said:
i cant beleive that this same person that wrote this,is the same person that will walk in the ring and knock you the fcuk out!:bruce3:..j.k..bro!..that was beautiful!:woohoo:
Click to expand...
I have a huge dichotomy; hell, I fight MMA and am about to start a thesis about lactate threshold and it's correlation with nutrient repartitioning due to increased insulin sensitivity.

Honestly though, I have been writing since I was about 15 and it always helps me to just get it on paper. I literally have 100s of pages of various musings from throughout the years.
 
Here's another one I wrote from a break-up

Aeterna

Like the choppy waters of the sea
Or the Persian sands since antiquity
Tension and belligerence in open view,
Warfare as constant as the morning dew.
Looking to the heavens,
Waiting for a sign
Refusing to relent
Until I understand or go blind...

Torn by this dichotomy,
Two paths lie in front of me.
Will I choose the road
That gives me a home of my own?

This one is still untitled

Exception from perception
Tattered from rejection
Refused since conception
Reborn by injection;
The journey before me,
Will it end abruptly?
Or will I survive
And endure all of their lives?
 
suncloud said:
to my best friend i could never date - my best work to date - AB/AB rhyme scheme with a twist:

Near perfection, except for a smile
Another for whom i must pray
That you will recover and stay awhile
All I ask for every day
Love that warms the heart
Instead of fading from sight
Enough to keep me from crossing the line

I'm caught and caressed by your light

Love that warms the heart
Only needing it to survive
Vulnerable when you depart
Everything you are in my life

Your beauty is inscribed in the earth
On every day of a flower's birth
Unstoppable as is my love true

* first letters from each line spell "natalie i love you"
Click to expand...
That is the balls.
 
Rodja said:
Here's another one I wrote from a break-up

Aeterna

Like the choppy waters of the sea
Or the Persian sands since antiquity
Tension and belligerence in open view,
Warfare as constant as the morning dew.
Looking to the heavens,
Waiting for a sign
Refusing to relent
Until I understand or go blind...

Torn by this dichotomy,
Two paths lie in front of me.
Will I choose the road
That gives me a home of my own?

This one is still untitled

Exception from perception
Tattered from rejection
Refused since conception
Reborn by injection;
The journey before me,
Will it end abruptly?
Or will I survive
And endure all of their lives?
Click to expand...
sweeeeeeeet!
 
Took a tad from your idea Suncloud for this number:


Pragmatic Prose: Reflection, Respite, and Return

Sifting through this chaos,
The days begin to merge.
Each moment leaves me more lost,
Pretend to ignore these words.
However, I do not sigh,
Accept the fight and the terms,
Never quit, nor shall lie;
I will continue to learn.
Even if it wasn't the right time,
It's foolish to act pragmatic,
Left before we had a chance to bind,
Only one night left me ecstatic.
Vividly recall that event
Even if for only that moment.
Yearn for this, I won't relent;
Once I awoke, I could feel
Us together with more to reveal.

This is dedicated to the best GF I have ever had and I hope to hold her once again very soon. FYI, it says "Stephanie I Love You."
 
And while the colourless beat poets scream fantastic dreams from the muted pages of history I, touch the lines of the muted landscape, waiting patiently for the man in front of me to purchase ten cents of fame on that voyeur's trip,

he reaches deep into short pockets to grab two nickels I watch slump ceremoniously on that counter followed by a sigh, and a shameful look,

he picks up the magazine and abandons that piercing metal - the nickels look like two eyes on the counter that peer into his existence and he doesn't even know how they represent him see:

Nickels are two a dime and he, well he's a dime-a-dozen. An alcoholic failed father figure fathomless fat **** factory worker, who never stopped to consume the good life now his life is consumed by those goods right and feels pathetic.

I watch him step through the counter, he of the American-Dream FAILED, epitome of the thing he once said he always hated,
and now carrying two bottles of Jack-Daniels 150-proof failed ambition and one intent to drown his sorrow, he steps from the store and sparks the ignition to that Monte-Carlo gas- guzzler ridin' ten-cents-to-the-death leavin' the stench of depression in his wake,

and as I watch Captain America ride off into that disputed view of sunset emotion I am left in rags raging, thinking: His brethren is the product of that 'greatest generation' so, what hope does ours have?

Our generation, ours of the internet-warrior cyber-punk emotive-blogger conglomerate, speaking on mass appeals in a disaffected language created by staged apathy figures,

our generation, ours of the "supposedly" disenfranchised youth: Handed the world on platters-silver spooning with Mother Nature to earn that cool-cliched 'liberal' namesake,

our generation, ours of Ginsberg's disappointment incarnate where, disillusioned suburban landscapes play home to that teen-junkie-social-prostitute, selling affection to any who will listen,

our generation, ours of that convinced lack of pigment instrumentation but, blacks still King of the Bingo Game (Ralph Ellison poem) still played, still losing, still to dark to sleep in affirmative action tenements,

our generation, ours of the teen-pregnant-drama-queen, squeezing out the bastard children of children, in between gossip and bulimic resurgence sessions,

our generation, ours of the regurgitated Flower-Child LOST disemboweled without a sexual revolution to cling to and where, rough-and-tumble cowboy figures tell heterosexual tales to their Judas Penis, and the Christian-Right equals equality right? But they STILL call a fag a fag, and all the colours are not the same,

and our generation, ours where rich-kids spraypaint "**** the Corporations!" on the back of mom-and-pop organizations with I-Pods playing permutations of the most pretentious pre-ma-donnas providing the theme music to surely downward ****fest cradled in Hell's Handbasket and I? Well, I can only hope I am not leading the congregation see:

I pace these confused streets at time confident and brimming with bravado, reassured that I have cracked life's oyster, extracted the knowledge, and now figure the hollow shell for nothing more than one electric muscle-casing,

I speak to peers whose fears spoke nothing upon them, shouting my obscenities over Socialist tracts through equality megaphones that failed before the purpose broke,

I trudge through the intellectual wasteland stopping for only seconds in the circus to converge upon shared symbols scratching useless: Only to be disappointed in my big top for, one can only learn nothing from nothing learned,

I write life-industrious over the same tastes as my refuted Ketamine existence now, that's necessary to bolster my ill-gotten sanity injuries and,

I write, but don't write, I speak life. Not for this agency or against that agency just, to cover the page man, half-purposeful, half spilled-in-the-instant to tell me ****, tell you ****, tell the other that this purpose, this purpose lies not adjacent to the surface but back farther in our dollar ninety-nine existence.
 
nice contribution mullet.

the 4th paragraph, where i stumble on the F's trying to read that out loud reminds me of a beatnik poetry jam!
 
suncloud said:
nice contribution mullet.

the 4th paragraph, where i stumble on the F's trying to read that out loud reminds me of a beatnik poetry jam!
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Definitely. The Poem is a Salute to Howl. Here is another, less beatnik-style.

Ya sugar, let's give up easy,
you walk and I'll walk too.
After all:
It's only ten steps to new emotional engagements
it's only a back turned on a face failed on precedent,
it's only a few remarks made in angst and lost in the circus
really, it's nothing.

Ya sugar, let's do it,
you stop talking and I'll stop talking too.
Let's seal our lips to mute emotion:
You know, only that emotion.
Then let's push the drive deep inside,
then let's both pretend like that's something new to us.

Ya sugar, let's say **** it,
you go far away and I'll go far away too.
You can ride the hope-soaked clouds of ideal homage emotion,
and I'll climb dangerously close to that Son born on embarrassment.
You get there and pretend like you're happy.
I'll get there and pretend it never happened.
I can't wait sugar, can you?
 
I"m still trying to figure out what the last one is about. on the surface, it seems like its marriage, but i think i'm wrong about that.

these three lines have me mixed up :

It's only ten steps to new emotional engagements
You get there and pretend like you're happy.
I'll get there and pretend it never happened.

could also be an ex trying to flaunt something, that you really just don't care about. could you enlighten me what you were writing this about?
 
Two people trapped in unhappy relationships, trying to reconcile the relationship they formerly had together.

"Ya sugar, let's give up easy
you walk and I'll walk too"

Sets the tone insofar as saying, "if you have already given up, then so have I". Which leads into a line, "let's push the drive deep inside, then let's both pretend like that's something new to us" as they had obviously tried to reconcile before. Then, "You get there and pretend you're happy. I'll get there and pretend it never happened" is essentially saying, "When you return to your partner, I know you will push it inside and pretend that you're still happy. When I get back to mine, I will pretend that it never happened".

The tone is sarcastic, right? To say: These things are amazingly difficult, and life-changing, but you nonchalantly move through them. If you do so, then so will I.
 
alright. i got the vibe that it was two people unhappy, but the scenario at the end is one of two thing:

1 - they get married, and still hate each other
2 - she finds another guy and tries to play off how happy she is when she's not, while the old boyfriend just doesn't care.

its quite nice, because its applicable in more than once scenario :)
 
suncloud said:
alright. i got the vibe that it was two people unhappy, but the scenario at the end is one of two thing:

1 - they get married, and still hate each other
2 - she finds another guy and tries to play off how happy she is when she's not, while the old boyfriend just doesn't care.

its quite nice, because its applicable in more than once scenario :)
Click to expand...

Very close! The intention (though poetry is multiple perceptions) was that each was already in a relationship.

The tone was that these two people who had a storied past together are trying to reconnect; the difficulty is that they both feel obligated to their current partner. So the poem is written in frustration, in a sense, that two people have reached the precipice of something great, only to fall back into mediocrity:

You ride the hope soaked clouds of ideal homage emotion

Is to say: Continue to hope that your current relationship will ever be close to ours (homage emotion).

And:

And I'll climb dangerously to that Son born on embarrassment:

Is to say: I tried as hard as I could to start our relationship again, even though it served to embarrass me, and family and friends would have judged my choice. So, then, she goes back to this mediocre relationship, and I return and pretend it never happened because of the frustration!

I had dated this girl for about two years, and we had a very stormy relationship. Despite our troubles, we would always return, no matter who the other was dating. About two years ago, while we were with other people, we tried to set something up where we could work it out. Things fell apart.
 
Mulletsoldier said:
Very close! The intention (though poetry is multiple perceptions) was that each was already in a relationship.

The tone was that these two people who had a storied past together are trying to reconnect; the difficulty is that they both feel obligated to their current partner. So the poem is written in frustration, in a sense, that two people have reached the precipice of something great, only to fall back into mediocrity:

You ride the hope soaked clouds of ideal homage emotion

Is to say: Continue to hope that your current relationship will ever be close to ours (homage emotion).

And:

And I'll climb dangerously to that Son born on embarrassment:

Is to say: I tried as hard as I could to start our relationship again, even though it served to embarrass me, and family and friends would have judged my choice. So, then, she goes back to this mediocre relationship, and I return and pretend it never happened because of the frustration!

I had dated this girl for about two years, and we had a very stormy relationship. Despite our troubles, we would always return, no matter who the other was dating. About two years ago, while we were with other people, we tried to set something up where we could work it out. Things fell apart.
Click to expand...

fascinating. i see the application now. quite nice.
 
suncloud said:
fascinating. i see the application now. quite nice.
Click to expand...

Appreciated! I tend to be cryptic, so the poems are loaded with meaning that may not manifest itself readily.

I see you grasped now that the 'Son' born on embarrassment is our burgeoning relationship, with 'Son' and 'Sun' being interchanged!

Here is two more you may like, then I would be interested in seeing a few of yours!

Biding Time For Blood To Share

"Your lips are bleeding"
she said as I walked away.
Stunned for the moment
my biding time slips as I wonder
how the kind king would look back on my destiny
chartered by misinformed investments,

time is money and all my pennies are wasted,
funneled into seconds pissed into the wind,
so now what?

"You tell me" she says
and I lick the blood from my lips
flowing with the force of two drops of water
moving oceans in my mind,
and once again I stop at the moment
for just that moment to wonder:
how many more I can spare?

"No more" she says
and I lick the blood from my lips and walk away.

Kindly Ranting

I’m tired now
but sleep isn’t my saviour,
it only prolongs the madness.

The inevitable rantings of the kind king yet pervade
given license by the freedom of my slumber,
slinging madness against the walls
and stealing from the pretext
he only means well they say,
but I don’t believe them.

He stares aimlessly into my nameless stairs
magnificent preceding steps proceeding closer yet
falling at a rate greater than I can supply,
the last breath crusader will not make it
he falls short this time,
I never believed in him anyway.

Maybe the boundless entries of my eyelid’s caress
coerced you into it,
maybe you fell of your own accord but
now we are both worse for the wear,
and I am still confused on whose mask this is anyway.

I’m tired now
but sleep isn’t my saviour,
it only prolongs the madness.
 
quite nice. i like repeating a verse as well sometimes.

my poetry is a little on the bland side compared to yours. i dabble in the "longfellow style", with ABAB rhyme schemes most of the time. like longfellows work, its a one sided affair, with no dimension other than the way it is written. i've posted some of mine on the first page, which i would consider my better works. let me dig up some more however. :)
 
I am mostly influenced by the Beat Generation, and even some of Camus' plays. People like Ginsberg and Kerouac have fascinating writings. I still enjoy Classical works, though; mostly Coleridge, Pope and Wordsworth. Need Witman in there as well!
 
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