| Author |
Message |
    
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3712
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:26 am: | 
|
 please post your poetry here.
the spirit within us
the water within us, still,
becomes a flowing river of life,
pulling us from birth to source,
becomes a spirit within us.
the earth within us, fertile,
anchors us to her heart.
her soul becomes our roots,
showing a mutual respect;
becomes a spirit within us.
the fire within us flickers,
as a small flame waits
to be fanned by wisdom,
to become consuming;
becomes a spirit within us.
the air within us, calm
until our spirit stirs
into a wind of knowledge
that we are all one;
becomes a spirit within us.
the spirit within us, sleeps,
the elements dormant
until a breath brings alive
our wholeness and purpose.
the breath of creation becomes
source within us.
* |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 39
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 1:18 pm: |
|
Lovely susi,
I enjoyed that every much |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3719
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 1:34 pm: |
|
thanks...now how 'bout another from you? |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 40
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 2:33 pm: |
|
Life's Tapestry
Weaving of life's tapestry
The meaning and its mystery
Change just a stitch or two
A new pattern comes into view
Building on the one before
Old and new create the core
Friends are fragments here and there
Strengthened by the thread we share
The present is our interface
Stitches shed others placed
Weave the future with the past
We can change the stitch at last
When we come to understand
Our actions guide the needle's hand
~m@c~ |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 119
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 3:06 pm: |
|
Mac, have you ever considered doing greeting cards? Helen Steiner Rice made a name for herself with her poems. This one is excellant.
I like Susi's free verse also. I can hear drums in the background of this one. This is a great idea! |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1492
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 4:50 pm: |
|
she waits for the bus
in a long gray coat
too big
and cheap black sandals
the only shoes she has
crosses her freshly shaved legs
at her delicate brown ankles
tucking her cold feet
beneath the bench
thin fingers struggle
against the desert wind
to maintain the arrangement
of her neat black curls
checking her purse twice
making sure the section torn
from the classifieds is there
Westside professional couple
seeks full time housekeeper/cook
live in
and for $200. a week
they will buy her
today's going price
for a Mexican slave
six days a week
plus Sundays on special occassions
she will be thiers
such is opportunity
welcome to LA
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 41
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 4:59 pm: |
|
Thank you LaSalle,
I believe this means you owe us one |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3723
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 5:07 pm: |
|
good going guys! there's alot of talent on this board. |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 42
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 5:33 pm: |
|
Wonderful susano,
Though as a slave to make $200 a week + room and board is not bad.
Remember the cook eats better than the household, and usually does the shopping. That would mean she could order her personal goods at the same time.
There are many that make much more than that, but don't have $200.00 clear a week. |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1493
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 5:40 pm: |
|
okay, ~m@c~, a 100. a week
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 43
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 6:36 pm: |
|
I once quit a job making $13.00 dollars and hour.
For one that paid minimum wage $5.00 dollars an hour.
Why?
Because they paid for everything.
Electric
Gas
Phone
Cable
Food
And guess what?
I did the shopping.
Now I did have to live on site, and deal with the mentally ill, but just made it more fun.
When they asked me to work for them I sat down and figured up what everything cost me. I found I could put $2.00 dollars an hour more in my pocket than what I made @ $13.00 dollars an hour.
This was several years ago, and led to another job.
That one led to a position where I managed the night shift for the only institution for violent juvenile offenders in my state. When I took over the night shift we averaged 17% of the staff injured in the line of duty to 0% for the five years I ran the shift.
Why did I leave?
Offered another position managing property where again they paid for everything besides my personal needs.
Basically it comes down to mothers day.
When we get paid we have to pay this mother and that mother. The fewer we need to pay the more we can enjoy the fruits of our labors.
It also means the more we can share with others. |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 44
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 7:28 pm: |
|
"susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1493
Registered: 10-2003
Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 5:40 pm:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
okay, ~m@c~, a 100. a week"
Works for me susano darlin |
Lapis
Senior Member
Username: lapis
Post Number: 513
Registered: 3-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 8:45 pm: |
|
......A cranial warning to all......I do NOT know how to write poetry......continue on at your own risk!!! I wrote this one because it was stinking hot and I was miserable.
"Summer Night Sylphs" Aug.1978
Hovering heats linger about somber lands not relinquishing their sultry obstinance.
Betwixt the ancient caverns of remembrance suddenly billows slender silvery Ones.
Wispy cool promenade They heading toward some distant, private promise land of their own.
Transparent wings pass disrupting tenacious stagnant heat, leaving unseen cool and crisp tail winds aft.
Gently stroking into nocturnal submission, all that lay suffering and waiting. |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1498
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 9:10 pm: |
|
lapis, that was very nice. it conveys a mood and a feeling. that's the point, right? i have no idea how to write proper poetry either but i've written reams of it anyway.
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 46
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 9:56 pm: |
|
Me thinks you've got it Lapis!
Been there done that, and now I need a cold drink;)
Reams you have susano since there is no "proper poetry" It is all a matter of style to which you have your own wonderful one |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1500
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:30 pm: |
|
have mercy on me baby
i'm a fool for your touch
my nights have been lonely
i like you so much
get ahold of yourself
now don't make me beg
i'm losing my judgement
get your hand off my leg
i don't need a lover
and i'm glad you're my friend
but i'm starting to hope
that this evening won't end
you're confusing me honey
i'm trying to be good
if only you'd quit that
then maybe i could
what's that you said
i couldn't hear
come closer and whisper it
into my ear
you know i can't do that
this friendship's platonic
you and me going there
that would be ironic
so you really mean it
you want me to stay
i never suspected
you liked me that way
when you look at me like that
it's hard to say no
i'm starting to run out
of reasons to go
you're a salesman baby
you make me feel good
i'm starting to buy it
that maybe we could
so turn on the music
and turn down the lights
i think you've convinced me
that this could be right
the fear i've been feeling
is starting to end
when it all melts away
in the trust between friends
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3728
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:39 pm: |
|
very good susano.
lapis, honey, you're a poet, you just don't know it.
ok, alot of my stuff was written when i was much younger so some of it is dorky, but hey, it's fun. |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 584
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:40 pm: |
|
i see you in the hallways
sometimes i wonder if you see me
dirty eyes and mind
my opwn business if you let me
i wonder if you know
about all the empty lives and bottles i've walked on
past forgotten dreams broken and bleeding neon hope
no pain no gain
no way for something to stand
in the rain makes me think of her sometimes
no particular her
just any old her will do
i've been through them all at one time or another
smothering love in kisses
until nothing is quite worth the time anymore
thoughts like these and they will have to start writing those interesting little notes...
motes?
moats?
oh well
like desptie all our efforts patient remains basically street people
or maybe they will call me silly in
erudite little words that they aren't really comfortable with smirking smiles scribbling shyt like
patient exhibits inappropriate behavioral reponses to everyday situations and normal conversations
escape in a momentary flash of her panties
just a hair
darker than the hem of her skirt
no where near as dark as the festering compositions of my real respones to everyday situations and normal
just tickles me
i see you as we pass in the hallways sometimes
i see you in my opinions
you see me in passing
do you see how blind we are? |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1501
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:48 pm: |
|
well that was an old one too, susi, written for a poet friend. we had a good time, me and freudian steve. 
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 120
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:53 pm: |
|
THE GHOST DANCER
5/31/04
In the summer, in the moonlight
When the Earth is laid to rest,
When the fireflies light the summit
And the treefrogs sing their best,
Then the ghosts of yesteryear
Arise like mists from heated springs,
Surround me like a mighty fortress...
Just peace and pow'r their presence brings.
Like sentinels, the spirits gather
To conjure nature's harmony,
Establish balance with creation;
They chant of sacred unity.
The shamans say, 'All things connected;
The sea and mountains, wind and thunder,
The sun and moon and stars above,
All things are touched with sacred wonder."
The drum beats issue invitation..
A pow-wow called on astral planes
And every thought is bent to answer,
My blood is quickened in my veins.
A primal self is resurrected,
Remembering the ancient dance;
While all around, the fire-kissed faces
Encourage entrance into trance.
And there, the mystic dream is ended!
I have no further recollection.
I prayed for health, they shared their wisdom,
Teaching of innate connection.
Did I achieve an altered state...
A shaman's sacred soul adventure?
Or was this naught but fevered dreaming?
I simply offer mere conjecture..... |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 47
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 10:55 pm: |
|
The Huntress
Brought up on the warriors creed
Trained to fill the village need
No better hand at sword or bow
Into the forest she would flow
A wisp of air or whisper of leaves
The stalking trek the huntress weaves
Black armor of leather and breaches skin tight
Her silhouette a shadow in darkenwoods light
While hunting one day a trail she would cross
A bend of a twig a smearing of moss
Sparking her interest she quit hunting that day
To follow this sign to where ever it may
Who ever it was she knew it as man
The way it wanders no purpose or plan
Strange it seems they stumble and fall
Like a drunkard’s swagger bumping the walls
She found the intruder laid out by the stream
Movements all jerky as if fighting a dream
Broad shouldered brown hair streaked by the sun
Stepping closer she wonders "could this be the one?"
Foretold by the seer past carnival day
That love would find her in just such a way
Of love and of men none she had known
The lot of the huntress was sleeping alone
She knew in the instant their eyes met
Struck by the knowledge her future was set
The longing of yesterdays finally at rest
Holding true love the end of her quest
He looked on the face of a heavenly sight
And said "Love I've found you" then slipped into night
She placed her hand on his quivering chest
Cradled his head on to her leather cupped breast
She had found her true love and said her goodbye
Shaken by sorrow and whispering why
She sat there rocking tears streaking her cheek
For what she had lost by darkenwoods creek
With pain is so great why don't I bleed
Weeps the daughter of the woodsman's seed
Many years later she'd relive the day
Sitting by the fire her hair streaked in gray
Her love's features sharp her vision clear still
Not clouded with mistrust or conflicts of will
She sat there smiling at a young woman's plea
And how it was answered by the heart of a tree
Pulp tea the seer pressed her that day
Held the gate open and fever at bay
Two became one as foretold by the fates
The manner of love and meaning of mates©
~m@c~ |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3729
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:00 pm: |
|
bravo. thank you. |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1503
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:25 pm: |
|
no particular her
just any old her will do
hehe, gabriel
great poems everyone. this is fun. thank you susi. makes me want to smoke weed though.
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 48
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:25 pm: |
|
I second that susi,
There are very talented people on the board.
I'm enjoying the hell out of reading them. |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3730
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:42 pm: |
|
i've posted some of these before but there are new people-so if you've read these...oh well....
a fairytale
misty morn, my dreams are idle
white flecks on my window glass
i marvel as the tiny, tearful
moondrops on the silver grass
play with the lighting of the spectrum
dancing blue and red and green
light, gay voices singing softly
heard but nowhere to be seen
look! a petal of a flower
moves but yet there's not a breeze
blades of grass are pressed down softly
laughing voices sway the leaves
is this my imagination?
am i outside of my head?
are there really tiny people?
no...guess i'll go back to bed
covers up around my ears now
silly i should think such things
my mind's at ease, my eyelids heavy
soft, sweet, songs the wind she sings
cast upon the morning thistle
the moon's reflections, pale but clear
appearing now are tiny faces
filled with awe but never fear
dancing, prancing, 'round the clover
singing, swinging in and out
peep out from 'hind glistening places
playing games they know about
the moon gets dull as dawn approaches
tiny figures cease and flee
i awake; glance out my window
no trace of my dreams i see.
*
(Message edited by etsi on November 21, 2004) |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1505
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 21, 2004 - 11:51 pm: |
|
nice!
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1509
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 1:41 am: |
|
under the lucky moon
thanksgiving passes
and Destiny
is a waitress at Denny's
mother to the lowdown
and we are her children
we crave the hot black liquid
run on the fuel
that carries us into the night
beyond bad luck boulevard
across from the blue line
behind the back stairs
to number 45, on the right
it's cold outside
but it's warm in here
with a pink bandana for a lampshade
and the air is thick
as we blow away our cares
in the smoke of joint from a friend
on a red bed
as soft as a kiss
we're a million miles
from loneliness
when you look in my eyes
and say that i'm good
in spite of my thoughts to the contrary
two poets, two pals
and the now is all that matters
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 121
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 6:29 am: |
|
ON THE THRESHOLD OF TRANSFORMATION
July 28, 1996
Each tick of the clock brings us nearer and nearer
To the closing of this millenial age
As yearly events move on faster and faster,
Now hurling us toward a finality stage;
Though not to a certain oblivian...
As doom-sayers love to forewarn;
Rather on to a planned introduction
Of a creature both Earthly and Heavenly born.
The gestational term is now nearly completed,
With millions prepared for momentous birth,
When this prototype creature newly emerges
To establish its life on this transforming Earth.
This race, intercepted by those from afar
Long after we crawled from primordial mud....
Has been granted the gift of those Nefilim gods
Who transfused some of us with divinity blood.
Demographically changing this test group for all time
And watching its growth through ages so vast,
They're patiently waiting the hindermost straggler
To waken and consciously catch up at last.
Now millions respond to some mute inner signal,
Oblivious yet to their hidden dichotomy,
Exhibiting traits which mirror the donors
Who gave us this seratine god-pedigree.
Predeluvial, they were inclined to just use us
As soldiers and slaves, to further their need
But soon were amazed at the strength of our spirits
Which strove to survive their wantonous greed.
Now they observe us intently, intently
From the edge of their ultra-imaginal world;
Prepared to midwife us...somewhat irreverently
Into an inconceivable world.
For they have been growing, even as we have,
Laying aside unappeasable lust
For insatiable land claims and mineral wealth
Plus a past fraught with wars which have earned our distrust.
Through aeons, they've grown and now are descending,
Providing the catalyst to speed up our growth.
We have earned their respect, and our bondage is ending:
They are getting us ready to enter their world~ |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1584
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 8:30 am: |
|
Having been an English teacher (once, many, many years ago) teaching students the way to write poetry.....there is no "set" way to write poetry....poetry is an emotional response to events, mind-musings, completely free of rules....
(unless, of course, one insists on rhyming) Classical rhymes have some patterns (like iambic-pentameter, five two-sylable words hung together, hence the Penta-meter) are strict....but poems do not have to be "classical"....just enjoy the flow of words, putting them together....and wait.
To each his own, these poems stir
the midnight monsters will release
deep feelings left from flying fur
or softness partnered with appease
Indulge the soul, engage the heart
words waft in simple or complex
each pattern opening to impart
the written word, brain muscle flex. |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3731
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 10:12 am: |
|
i am the barren earth
welcoming the snowflake
feeling its' gentleness
caress my body
stirring my desires
soaking in its' moistness
temporarily joining
knowing it will melt
but leaving its' mark
in bittersweet memory
upon my spirit.
* |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1510
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 12:28 pm: |
|
i probably shouldn't do this with all the high thinking around here but it's just poetry right?
for snoop dogg
police choppers flying slow
circling over the scene below
shots were fired
same old same old
routine business
everyone's wired
car stereos
neighborhood hos
another deal has transpired
somebody ripped
the other one off
DOA subject expired
cops are askin what you know
who's the dealer with the blow
only answer what's required
didn't see nothin
don't know jack
about who conspired
street light shines an orangy glow
on the night time city show
time to do what you've acquried
hop in the car
put your gun away
homey got the goods that he desired
sexy lady all aglow
put down your electric window
proposition makes him inspired
park in the alley
try to make it quick
4:00 a.m. and you're gettin pretty tired
back to your long beach bungalow
been a good night and you feel mellow
do it all again when you feel on fire
cause you da man
and you know you can
come back tomorrow when you wanna get higher
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
nomadrat
Senior Member
Username: nomadrat
Post Number: 915
Registered: 2-2001
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 2:06 pm: |
|
Damn!
You guys are GOOD!
This is really good stuff.
"I have seen you in the evening. In the morning light you hold me. Closer than the air around me,
You surround me always...Everywhere I go"
-Amy Grant
|
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 128
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 7:04 pm: |
|
MISERY
7/18/84
'Cross the floor of my life, there's a shadow....
An ominous gloom, to be certain.
Striking dread in the heart of it's victim;
Someone's waiting behind that still curtain.
I certainly know who is waiting
To enter my life stealthfully;
Tis the same dark intruder who's come here before;
Tis the presence of Misery.
He has stood there as long as my memory,
With his foot blocking open the door,
And the dankness which follows his presence
Awakens the dread of his visits before.
He follows me down the bright pathways
To remind me again of his mission of doom,
And my laughter at once is fast-frozen,
Recognizing his aura of gloom.
And, always, there at my window
Is that dreaded impalpable hand
Grabbing the joys of my future,
Defiling the dreams I have planned.
There's no cloaking myself 'gainst intrusion,
There's no way to not feel his harsh pain;
I should have just asked him to sup with me
And been done with his torturous game.
I might have just faced him with boldness
And snatched up his poisonous cup,
Defiantly mocking his sinister form,
Then, laughingly, drank all his dreaded brew up.
I'm told his duty is following...
In pursuit that waxes not cold,
Only those who are called to a Purpose,
Refining them til they are like purest gold. |
Lapis
Senior Member
Username: lapis
Post Number: 515
Registered: 3-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 9:34 pm: |
|
Oh squishy! I'm all emotional now from reading each of these. Just wonderful everyone.......thank you.
"....there is no "set" way to write poetry....poetry is an emotional response to events, mind-musings, completely free of rules...."
YIPPIE!!! Thank you LAB for sharing that. I didn't know. I feared I'd blasphemed something in some way for sure.
And with the very kind words of encouragement, I'm feelin' better about sharing some more
Untitled from 1982
As like the Sun which burns its way across turquoise skys eternal
As like the silent chill which echoes throughout the full moon night
As like the vast lands between the diamond lit stars above
As like the seas emerald depths with voiceless chanting cries hidden far below
As like the wild dance of the wind with her unending fight for free flight
As like the rhythmic pulsing wonder of all these secrets and more, does my soul love thee. |
~m@c~
New member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 49
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 10:06 pm: |
|
These are all wonderful reads guys this was a gr8 idea
Bon Appetite Blues
A bacon egg and cheese biscuit
Is what I'd like the most
Instead I have some melon
and a piece of melba toast
Why can't I have a Danish
Or piece of pumpkin pie
Without having to worry
About triglyceride
At times it's such a struggle
To keep this frame of mind
Raiding the refrigerator
for the treats I would find
Waking in the morning
Sometimes it is quite close
Hit the bathroom running
From a fiber overdose
Reading all the labels
Trying to shop smart
What I thought a staple
Is not even on the chart
Walking down the aisle
My taste buds would agree
All that seems appealing
Is neither sugar nor fat free
~m@c~
 |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 131
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 10:53 pm: |
|
Mac,I can relate to that!Lapis, that is a beautiful contribution. Susi, I enjoy all of yours. L.A.B. Good Stuff! Susano, that was a piece of mastery about snoop doggy! And I really like the one about the Mexican girl on the bus. And the one which mentions Denny's? I think you are a genius modern poet! How I wish we could have a group where we could READ our stuff aloud! I have really loooonnnngggg ones about past lives which I would love to share but not here. Oh, we are a talented bunch of highly evolved human beans, aren't we? |
Lapis
Senior Member
Username: lapis
Post Number: 517
Registered: 3-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 11:03 pm: |
|
We all are fantabulus are we not? Here's another just to prove it!
Untitled 1997
I stand here on the top of my ant hill trying to remember......
that I am that thing that created the Gods. |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 588
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 11:04 pm: |
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welcome welcome one and all
so glad that you all came
we'd like to introduce you to
the mind of warlock strange
so hurry hurry step right up
and gather all around
but don't you make
that sad mistake
go thinkin i'm a clown
no i'm
a bit more of a phantasm
perhaps a bitter dream
never quite just what i am
but not quite what i seem
i'm
a strange thing, i'm a bad seed
i'm a changling
call me nightbreed
but call me call me call me
you could call me mr whistler
and i've come here for to tell
chilling stories
allegories
and fables just as well
metaphor and similie
poems lies and rhymes
ta be a nickle for the pleasures mum
a moment of your time
its from the puppet
to the poets
for the tale of pennywise
for the salty kiss of yesterday
in the old man's childless eyes
for the long ago
for far away
and for once upon a time
for the spider memories crawlin
in the cobwebs of your mind
a quick glimpse of thin ice underfoot
creaking as we stride
into the tombstone chill of yet to be
step up and peek inside
as you wake up in a window seat
a lonesome whistle whines
wheels a clickin tickin
just markin passin time
outside a twisted midnight sky
melts into a misty ground
crack a bloodshot eye
roll it slow around
see little sally somebody
sits just across the way
took seconol to bed last might
won't wake up today
there's a blonde haired blue eyed
corn fed boy
you could almost think he naps
weren't for bloody wrists
and razor blades
caught lying on his lap
and that armani
three piece suit
that wont quite meet your eye
as his fingers crawl
cross the knotted noose
of his brand new power tie
and the porter clears his throat and says
"hhuuuurrrruuuunnnghgh,
I need YOUR ticket son"
in the bloody palm of your tremblin hand
there's a warm and smokin gun
the headman and the hangman
they both are friends of mine
we drink martyrs blood
and roll the bones
just to pass our time
nothin gives me pleasure
and i don't feel no pain
just a empty eyed engineer
what's got a handle on the night train
and i ain't come to bring you
what you think your used to be hearin
i've got
straight razors
cyanide
some strychnine and some fear and
i've got down pillows smotherin
breath of babies
and of laughter
gruesome glimpses of a maybe
grisly yet here ever after
my last dinner's dancin
on my grave just like a lover
no repeal upon appeal
caress of cold black silk to cover
no repentance
no shame
just reflections cold starin
your eyes greedy gobblin
through the care that your still wearin
like a ten dollar suit
as you hang
edged upon your seat
chained to mine
i still break free...
too late
by a heartbeat |
Mark
Advanced Member
Username: mark
Post Number: 465
Registered: 2-2001
| | Posted on Monday, November 22, 2004 - 11:07 pm: |
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Oh, we are a talented bunch of highly evolved human beans, aren't we?
... you ain't Lima-ing.
(Mark ducks and runs to escape jeers for the bad pun) |
soilride
Senior Member
Username: soilride
Post Number: 720
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 12:38 am: |
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I wrote this poem quite some time ago - long before I knew about unknowncountry. I wrote this while on a train ride from Buffalo to Manhattan and had time to think about some of the things I was feeling at the time...it is untitled.
A giant soul standing tall
On a plateau in The Fall
the wind of chaos blows his hair
Ask this monster if he cares
Wretched sun and swinging sky
the moaning of the Desert in his eye
Blackest heart exploding red
for the caravans of hope that have bled
Ten thousand deaths and marching on
This boy at war battles dawn
the beast rises from the earth
to confront the devils of his birth
this is the beginning of The Fall
of a small boy growing tall
"Man did not create the web of life. Man is part of the web of life. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. This we know. We may be brothers after all." -Chief Seattle
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susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1514
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 12:55 am: |
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these poems are the bomb! wish we could all be beatnicks and live in greenwich village.
thanks lasalle, you're very sweet. and destiny really was a waitress at denny's!
gabriel, mind if i crawl inside your head for a while? i like it in there.
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
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GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 590
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 3:05 am: |
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let me bring you cold cyanide
hot off the brick
from where love is still born
and death growed a dick
beepers twelve gage and rock
its just stock in trade
and your best friends a corpse
in a bed that you made
got the chrome plated kitties
with the bottle blonde hair
swingin hot for the jock
just say the word any where
where you wake up insane
until they put you down mad
but you're def with a dis
you're the bich of the bad
i ain't no poser
ain't no preacher
ain't no teacher of rules
but don't you yank on my chain
my momma raised no fools
i know it's nickles and dimes
for what it was worth
but i been bichin and kickin
since the day of my birth
i ain't never knowed nothin
except for anger and hurt
i'll leave a wanna be sucker
stone cold breathin dirt
so if i'm fly in your face
what you do?
i done buried motherfukers
that looked a lot like you
crosses and flags
all dead white and blue
well if that's your best
your best won't do
and it's all that you got
it isn't enough
you ain't bread for the brick
you ain't one of us
word
wassup? |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 132
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 6:22 am: |
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MY SOUL'S DEPARTURE
12/4/88
Who awaits my soul's departure?
What manner of sentinel is guarding the gate?
What anomolies predetermine my future?
Whose judgement has sealed my ultimate fate?
Will there be a bewinged, ethereal creature
With balance in hand to weigh my soul's worth?
Or an alien astronaut of humanoid nature
Who will welcome me back from my sojourn on Earth?
Will I be handed the seamless white garment--
That robe whose stains have been bleached with Christ's blood,
Or the space trav'lers suit with the pressurized helmet
To aid my transference to galactical sod?
And will I be judged by His merciful mode,
Or obeissance to ancient Mosaic commands;
Or by clinical check of my DNA code
As I'm given over to alien hands?
Will my innermost essence, in a cumulous Eden,
Survive in eternal nirvanic estate;
Or will a stilled body at last reawaken
On some distant planet to further my fate?
My heart long embraced that Christian credendum
For the comfort it's lent to my tumultuous fate
But life's closing chapters hint at an addendum
Which has divested this soul of its simple oblate. |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 133
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 6:36 am: |
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Gabriel, I appreciate your creativity also. Your words/phrases build instant images in one's mind and establish an environment which is almost corporeal. Really good work! |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 134
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 6:56 am: |
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COSMIC WARRIOR
The ill winds, which a reckless hand, he bade
To nothingness. His choice was staid,
With rogue's delight, upon adventure...born
To test his wit against temptation's snare
(Which stouter hearts would surely scorn)
That captives might his freedom share.
And thus he entered time and time again
Those cloisters held in Satan's seine,
Disguised as they, that he might infiltrate
And free those souls whose pardons wait;
Delighting in the liberator's stance
And relishing this game of chance.
His contenders he plied in a battle of nerves
With the skillful art the war deserves;
Spirited on by the steel sabre's gleam
While still holding fast to that high-borne scheme
As the connecting swords rattled here and then there;
He never expected this war to be fair!
For if, by rude chance, he conformed to their stations,
Took on the mores of dark, blighted nations,
Not victor--but captive...he, too, would become
And forfeit return to the Star he hailed from.
Did he, as I, hear the drummer's Death Roll
On the dark, distant hills? Would they injure his soul?
Oh no! As the Angel of Darkness grasped tight on his sleeve,
He drew up his strength....and took his own leave!
"Far better to cede the battle unwon
Than at last, by default, to be overcome,"
Said he...and well said, without a hint of pride...
For he came too close to ending...on the other side!
(Two weeks before his 25th birthday, my second son was accidently killed by his own gun. I believe he was "evacuated" because he was beginning to become entrapped by sensation in the physical form. His departure was mercy while my son was in a "grace" period.) |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1595
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 8:54 am: |
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You all receive "A's"...excellent work...keep it up, and we can "publish" this list in a poetry contest....
Words as paint, a broken canvas bare
cries out for voice, for song, a color
rainbow sounds that fill the void
and raise the heartstrings' wanderings.
Each petit light, each memory strain,
wake all the shadows, all the joys
and in the sharing, healing wafts
connections turn all terms to gold.
(For those of you who love to write lyrics to songs....think of words as rhythm patterns, and don't forget the "brace" (the phrase or sentence repeated as the chorus.) Write your poem, then pick the phrase or sentence that encompasses the meaning of the poem, that's your "brace.")
So the brace on the above poem might be....
"Raise the heartstrings' wanderings, connections turn all terms to gold."
(Let's all hold hands and sing "Kumbya.")
(Message edited by Leathab on November 23, 2004) |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 597
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 10:44 am: |
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well a wizards in the back room
splashing dreams upon a wall
playboys on his potty chair
just tryin to miss his calls
laborers all laboring
neigh seven days a week
coroners young princess
plants a peck upon a cheek
singin
la dee da dee
da dee da dee
la dee da dee
doe
check your coin and flip your compass
to decide which way to go
the mormon girls all posturing
and praying just to please
manners polished properly
knickers round er knees
the vicar in his carriage
passes jesus on the road
and tosses him a tuppence
just to lighten up his load
singin
la dee da dee
da dee da dee
la dee da dee
die
wipe your nose and
lick the tear drops
from the corners of your eye
queens wrapped in tattered satin
in the air her ankles wave
and death goes dancing merrily
among the babies graves
as the old man with the telescope
spies the passion play
the jester lights a cigarette
and laughing walks away
singin
la dee da
dee da dee da dee
da dee da dee
day
he sings la dee da dee
da dee da
and just softly slips away |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 51
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 6:42 pm: |
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I am dumb founded!
You are quite right L.A.B.
Though I see rap songs in Gabriel, and plays in LaSalle.
Childs Play
Bouncing along the bubbling stream
Adrift in a dance of shiny moonbeams
Play hide and seek with the sun's many rays
Climbing a rainbow on those cloudy days
Captain a leaf and set it afloat
Crossing a sea or dangerous moat
Crawl through the mud and capture a spy
Racing a rabbit no trace of a tie
Finally home walk through the door
See mom’s stern look at mud on the floor
Stepping quite stiffly led by the ear
Off to the bathroom my bottom might sear
Talking a whirlwind with each taken step
Mourning the loss of a floor freshly swept
Breaching the door and drawing the bath
Regretting the choice of my ill fated path
Out breaks the smile that brightens her face
Lighting my world through her loving grace
Supper a joy it’s soon off to bed
A kiss on the cheek, eyes, and forehead
Cozy and warm greeting sleep with a grin
With the coming of dawn an adventure begins
~m@c~
It's gettin deep hear folks |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 53
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 7:52 pm: |
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Shut the hell up Ed!
Let the breeze flow! |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 54
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 8:06 pm: |
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I agree with myself
Let the poets emerge
Layed deep in the rough
When gems are unturned.
(Message edited by mr_alleycat on November 23, 2004) |