| Author |
Message |
    
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 56
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 10:20 pm: | 
|
I've visited many poetry sites, but I've never been as impressed by what I've read more than here.
Ed
(Message edited by mr_alleycat on November 23, 2004) |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 601
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 10:23 pm: |
|
well i do rap
and bluegrass
and metal
and folksy but
one of my favorites is
SHOW TUNES
if you're wonderin
where you're goin
there may be a way of showin
what it is the clouds are knowin
bout a long time
yes a long time
don't be misled by your mind
take a look inside the rhymes
and see what you might find
in the long time
yes the long time
there's no need for you to cry
tho perhaps someday
we'll die
just step beyond your eyes
and into what must lie
in the long tome
yes the long time |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1520
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 11:00 pm: |
|
wow such good poets here. how do you guys just crank it out like that?! i'm impressed.
Evidence of evil in the world appears to our senses in order to let us know the consequences of the beliefs we hold.
- Seth
|
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 607
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 23, 2004 - 11:55 pm: |
|
i don't write
i just sight along the third eye blinded
by the things
that come in rings
and once i never minded
cause on the spot
is all ive got
and all i'll ever be
and in between
is to be seen
when we're finally free
but until then
just wait till when
you can find the way to fall
and the start
with all your heart
to wonder at it all |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 139
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 6:03 am: |
|
THE CLOSING OF THIS AGE
May-1987
Earthman's a child in a playpen,
Demanding more and more toys,
Only to throw them over the side,
Making beligerant noise;
Wanting the freedom to walk on his own
When he hasn't learned yet to crawl,
Wanting to scale new horizons,
Content with nothing at all.
He's a babe, lost in the forest;
Hasn't heard of his great guiding star;
Yet he thinks he's the master of his meager life
And the lives of those near and far.
So he clings to his outworn convictions,
So certain he is that he's right
And if he's opposed a position,
He's ready to die in a fight.
He's been thus since time immemorial;
The bones in the ground testify.
But down thru the years, he's learned nothing....
Yet he thinks he is ready to die.
And the grave devours his brief mem'ry,
His deeds, his honors, his glory,
While the sands of time hide his footprints;
He's forgotten like yesterday's story.
His time soon expired, his opus undone....
Undaunted, he stands at the close of this age,
Not missing the songs he has never once sung,
As God soberly turns the last page.
His achievments, like dry dust, are shifted,
His monuments? Prey to Time's blast,
By some future race to be sifted
For clues to his crimes of the past.
And the efforts of sages and prophets,
Angels and teachers and avatars
Have never forestalled mankind's rushing
Headlong toward more senseless wars.
So the sowing and reaping is ending
And the chaff will be blown in the gale,
Man's testing is now nearly over....
Has he travelled beyond the pale? |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3758
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 8:17 am: |
|
stop, poor child, breathe in the beauty
that lies beneath your tiny feet
inhale the misty, sparkling dew
which fills the soul and tastes so sweet
reach out and touch the marvelous petals
that lay about your fingertips
drink in this filling, intoxicating beauty
come now child, and take a sip
experience this wonder finding
that you have failed to see before
come, down the path, rich and winding
opening to a breathless shore
with shells and seaweed and crystal sand
and seagrapes tossed along the shore
all of this sucked up by currents
and crushed against the ocean floor
how have you missed to find this glory
that god has 'specially made for you?
you should be ashamed that you neglected
but, pity, if you only knew
of all the people, poor thoughtless people
that also have forgotten too.
* |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 140
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 8:39 am: |
|
THE SOJOURNERS
10/20/72
How soon the silence slipped about me
As shadows stretched out languid limb,
To hold secure my weary body
As my heart and soul cried out to Him.
And I pondered there, while all were sleeping,
The enigmatic Plan of Life,
My hearing filled with whispered weeping
Of unfilled dreams with wanting, rife.
Thus while my thoughts were inward turning,
The musing deeply wrought my brain;
And with eye fast-fixed on the firelogs burning,
There rose a vision from the flame.
Yes, suddenly rose from the flickering glow
A scene most wondrous to my eyes.
Colors bright that broke the shadow,
Flares darting which could mesmerize.
And there, before my steadfast stare,
That vison grew to normal size
So persons, fleshed, were forming there
Before my frozen, glist'ning eyes.
The room I'd known for many years
Gave way to strange and cruel terrain
Made muddy by a million tears,
Made rough by long enduring pain.
Such wretched folk, with burdens bent,
Striving 'gainst the odds defeat
Up those ragged rocks, defying ascent
By madly mocking their groping feet.
Yet on they went, in mute procession;
Never pausing ere but brief,
Keeping pace in that mad division,
Continuing without relief.
There were the lame, the blind, the ill near death
Some bearing bodies stained with blood,
So many gasping for their breath
In that moving human flood.
Though strenuous that uphill track,
There was no pulling off aside,
No giving up, nor turning back,
No other road, no place to hide.
For there, above the thick'ning gloom,
Beyond the smell of dead dreams blight,
Yes! There! Atop that fearsome mountain
Pulsed the ever constant Light!
And the Pilgrims on that Path of Life.
Bent too low to see the sky,
Struggled ever onward, ever upward
Without even understanding "why".
Yet all the while the Unseen Hand
Which metes to ever man his measure,
Worked constant o'er that dismal land
To lead them to that waiting treasure.
For those feet, flesh-worn, which traced the granite,
Those restless feet which stained the sod,
Those feet which bore those pilgrims upward,
Were carving stairs which led to God! (C-1998) |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 58
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 3:00 pm: |
|
Love Of Country
I am dead for love of country
A keeper of the flame
Reach out to all the others
That fell in freedoms name
Said Hello to Patrick Henry
Shook hands with Dr. King
Broke bread with my brothers
Who paid for freedom's ring
Lives throughout the ages
The sum of human kind
Fill tomes of many pages
But seldom you will find
Men who fought for freedom
On someone else's shore
End the Tyrant's season
Without the taste for war
In oath we lose our brothers
And many more will die
For our love of country
Is freedom's battle cry
~m@c~ |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 59
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 3:43 pm: |
|
Don't leave yourself out susano.
Your in the mix, and I await the trip |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3770
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 3:56 pm: |
|
'67
the sandpiper
as the foam penetrates the sand
the sandpiper races to the shore
piercing the crystals
in search of a meal
all in instinct
racing back and forth
never wetting his tiny feet
searching for a tidbit
to suffice him
all in instinct
in and out of coral
picking in the crevices
turning over tiny shells
snatching a sand flea
all in instinct
all in a swift, continuous movement
but a soaring shadow engulfs him
he races in panic toward the sea
then zig-zags along the beach
all in instinct
too scared to take flight
then the shadow grows larger
he screams in flight
two huge talons clutch and pierce
and away in flight
all in instinct....
* |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 144
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 5:03 pm: |
|
NIGHT TERRORS
Darkness slips over the shoulders of day,
Sleek as a satiny witches cape,
Casting ominous shadows into the corners...
Where on this Earth can I go to escape?
Out on the edge of my mind's bright savannahs
Wait the specters of the fright'ning unknown
Who will clutch at me with the iciest fingers,
Chilling my blood and my trembling bone.
Shall I peer closely to uncover the purpose
Of that Terrible Thing in the foggy morass,
Or walk swiftly by, as I pray that it doesn't
Reach out to snatch me as I try to pass?
How many hours are left til the dawning?
How many more noises will speak in the night?
How long will I live with this unspoken terror?
What God-alful creature is causing this fright?
Lord, how I dread that fugacious Appearance
Stoically poised by the side of my bed
Who watches, impassive, my terror increasing,
As unearthly visions foment in my head.
And then it is over.......the ordeal is ended
As morning winks over the mist-shrouded hill.
No dream, no remembrance of goblins or demons... Yet cold apprehension remains with me still.
Despite every effort of reasoned denial,
The miasmatic reminder of some other sphere
Trails into the daytime realm of my mind,
Tainting it with inexplicable fear.
So my duties are done while the light is upon us,
(Though I often look over my shoulder, it seems)
Postponing the moment when I again face
The Terror which stalks the peace of my dreams.
(C.1980) |
The Jinx
Intermediate Member
Username: the_jinx
Post Number: 151
Registered: 7-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 - 8:00 pm: |
|
A Few Haikus:
My name on her lips
in muttering slumber spills
my sleep just a sip.
Arching a bare spine,
she c*cks a grin, winks to aim
her line of fire.
For me she smiles,
feigning chills after showers,
dancing on tiles.
The Jinx |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1607
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Thursday, November 25, 2004 - 9:18 am: |
|
Excellent Jinx, 5 syllables, followed by 7 syllables, followed by 5.....there is also a 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 pattern (by the Japanese Haiku...) that can also be followed. |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1539
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 1:32 am: |
|
this painting sucks
and there's a lot wrong
with this picture
now that i look at it
up close and personal
a proper inspection reveals
only the slightest recognition
of the original scene
it might even be a fake
first off
the colors are all wrong
i don't remember it being this pale
and restrained
like the artist held back
on something that should have been
freely expressed
but instead there's a
lack of inspiration
behind the motivation
for the whole creation
such as it is
or is not
and second
where is the movement
it looks like the river
has lost it's flow and all the fish
are dead or at least diseased
poisoned by outside influences
and those pesky special interest groups
always always always
spoil everything
polluting what was pure and
so much full of life
now come to a screeching halt
nothing but a garbage dump
of death
good god
who would paint such a thing
makes a person wonder
why
think i'll go listen to some jazz
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: 152
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 7:46 am: |
|
THE RECORD OF MY SOUL
1/9/92 (.C.)
Down and down into the vaults
Beneath the silent shifting dust
With hope to view the ancient logs.
My Bardo record - fair and just.
For whence I came, by blood or fate,
I have inherited my state;
My cross, my crown,
They both come down
From other times and other places....
From other "me's" with other faces.
And what the record might reveal
Direction new may be the yield,
For sands are draining from the glass.....
No time to tarry far afield
With insubstantial occupation,
Delaying further liberation.
My task be done,
My freedom won,
I'll sweetly sigh my final breath
When coming face to face with death.
The Record Keeper stands his guard,
"Ye do not view whilst in the Form!"
My pressing pleas do not convince
There are exceptions to the norm.
"Look at the work I chose to do!
I fear I missed a thing or two!
It's not too late
To alter fate
And Heaven bound I hope to be
When Earth has seen the last of me!"
The candles in the vault twice flared;
Our shadows stretched out lean and long;
The Record Keeper stroked his chin;
"Is she," he pondered, "quite that strong
Upon the heels of such hard testing...
With only months of trials resting?
If she's undone,
What vic'ties won?"
I asked again for one quick look
And he released the ancient book.
I blew the dust from off the tome
And slowly turned the antique cover;
My breath abated as I scanned
Recorded clues I might discover
To help unravel present impasse
And lead me from this madd'ning morass;
To make correction
Or change direction,
If that's the best that I can do
When once I've had this quick review.
The flick'ring candles lit the pages
Encrusted with the centuries grime,
Exposing me to countless ages
On Earth and in another time.
The holy, lowly, sometimes sordid....
All my past was there recorded.
No more suspense.......
It all made sense!
There is a higher paradigm
I've overlooked until this time.
With wonder, I perused each page
And marvelled at the clues I'd missed.
From Time's beginning on this Planet
All thoughts and acts brought me to this:
When from the clay, I would step free,
Expressing true the Higher Me.
It's not too late
To celebrate,
Though there's much work ahead to do,
Now I'm energized anew.
The Record Keeper reached his hand
To confiscate my Bardo Log.
"Sufficient is the knowledge gained,"
Said he, there ending dialogue.
I followed to the narrow stair,
Fortified and more aware
Of gains I've made
And debts I've paid.
Right now, I'm where I'm meant to be.........
Preparing for Eternity! |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1621
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 11:19 am: |
|
This would make a great movie, La Salle!!!! |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 153
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 11:48 am: |
|
Thanks so much, L.A.B. The poems with a strong visual imagery are either dreams or actual other-realm experiences I have had. I am hoping that someone can relate because of their own experiences. Perhaps the symbology can call forth some forgotten experience. Also, when we have had these encounters in other realms, we usually don't remember the information we gain there. I think the poems I have written following the experience brings forth the essence of the message even tho I have not previously remembered it consciously. Fun, huh? |
Lapis
Senior Member
Username: lapis
Post Number: 522
Registered: 3-2004
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 3:18 pm: |
|
LaSalle,
Wow, that was wonderful! So easy to SEE and FEEL. Also thanks for the explanation. I thought it sounded as if you had indeed experienced this, and others, in an altered state. Some of your other poems are almost exactly the same as things I wrote years ago. The same theme of soulful struggle with physical life in polarity.
And yes, mine was and continues to be usually in the form of a huge ancient Library! I and other people would be in this place doing personal research either in THE Big Main Book or looking through other smaller books for specific personal information both in and out of incarnations.
What a great combo! Otherworldly spiritual insights draped in robes of poetry. Please keep um comin'. |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 155
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 9:52 pm: |
|
The above experience of searching for my Bardo record was in an underground place, a spiral staircase. Above, the terrain looked almost like a desert...all bright sunshine and sand. Below it was cool with deep shadows beyond the candle light. The Record Keeper wore a hooded robe so that I never saw his face clearly.
I expect that many on these boards have had the same or similar experiences. They may have a different way of expressing them, but the journey, the tests, the results are all pretty much the same. Thank you so much for appreciating my work. |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1631
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 10:08 pm: |
|
Akashic records, Alexander's lair
the place that draws imagined scenes
to wander from each tome and script
a wonderous dream that's n'er complete.
Meandering white, golden halls,
each volume etched in memory
what tales would float and find a home
what could we learn of History?
Oh, hurry anthropologist,
and find the hidden, drowning lists
or copies squirrelled 'neath Peter's cave
release them to our loving gaze.
This, if a prayer, would grace
my lips, my constant wish, my star
Open wide and let us in,
we wait with withered vapor.
Unlock all keys, uncrypt the knots
and give the secrets breath...
What wonders will our visions seek
Myth's Library goes free. |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 156
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Friday, November 26, 2004 - 10:24 pm: |
|
Amazing! Akasha! And aren't we blessed to have brought back a memory? Perhaps Lapis will share one of her journeys there also. |
slw
Advanced Member
Username: slw
Post Number: 259
Registered: 12-2002
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 12:19 am: |
|
Wow! You folks are very talented! |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 615
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 2:26 am: |
|
when johnny marched off to war we're told
huhrah huhrah
he'd a chest of steel his heart was gold
huhrah huhrah
sang i'm off to kill in a foreign land
to die for what i don't understand
but i'll gladly lay down
my one last chance to grow old
when johnny jumped into the fray they tell
huhrah
huhrah
he had blood in is eye and he gave em hell
huhrah huhrah
and he clubbed and he slashed
and he shot and he bashed
but they stabbed and they hacked
and they shot him right back
and his blood ran cold when
johnny lay down and he died
when johnny came home in a body bag
huhrah
huhrah
your heads were hung and your shoulders sagged
huhrah huhrah
and his mum she cried and his old man shouted
what in the hell is it all about?
and the skies wept stone when
johnny came home in a bag |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 616
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 2:26 am: |
|
simple and derivative but it is for a protest rally and it is kind of catchy huh? |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 617
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 2:27 am: |
|
because you guys are really cool |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1546
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 2:47 am: |
|
you are
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: 157
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 4:59 am: |
|
ONE THOUSAND WARRIORS
May 31, 2004 (C.2004)
Young men and women
Of every race and creed
Have taken up their weapons
To meet our nation's need....
A need clothed in idealism
To cloak just wanton greed.
A youthful generation
Who believed the hyped-up lie
Of protecting hearth and homeland---
Who knew that they would die?
I saw those youthful faces-
Those kids who bravely went
Into the heart of battle,
Not questioning why they're sent.
They trusted their commander
Who warned of "mass destruction"
While, in truth, the PLAN was for
Political reconstruction.
So into the fiercest battle
Those trusting patri'ts went.....
One thousand now-dead warriors.............
Young, brave and confident
They spilled their precious blood,
Layed down their lives and dreams
On Iraqi's blazing desert sod
To further some men's schemes.
Lord, I pray these now-dead warriors
Are gathered to your breast.
All those who were, too early, Lord,
Laid down to Everlasting rest. |
L. A. B.
Senior Member
Username: leathab
Post Number: 1632
Registered: 12-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 10:24 am: |
|
How will they come home
these khaki boys and girls
with heads held high or
trailing Vietnam?
Can we remember patriot's dreams
of giving freedom's gift...
or will the stain of "government"
defuse their sacrifice?
So pray for peace, integrity
respect and medals shine,
when "Johnny/Janie" march home
remember to be kind. |
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3779
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 10:53 am: |
|
ok, here's my protest poem i wrote in the 60's-late teens:
the soldier
his plastic jeep is his armoured tank
a teddy bear for a uniformed driver
as he pulls it around by a string
thru the jungle of a garden
and rough terrain of ant hills
all the while his little voice sings
prum prum pa rum
pa pa prum
playing war as he hums
now he pretends his bb gun's
an m-16 with a sabre
as he creeps around the hills
pretending to see the enemy faces
behind every tall tree
as his changing voice shrills
rat tat rat a tat tat
playing war where he's at
he doesn't have to pretend now
as he trembles in a foxhole
in the swampy marshes of vietnam
seeing yellow faces behind every tree
as he clutches the cold metal of his gun
feeling the knot of fear, he thinks
oh where's the adventure and fun
the security of makebelieve as he hears
rat tat rat a tat tat
then hears no more....
* |
Mark
Advanced Member
Username: mark
Post Number: 478
Registered: 2-2001
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 11:37 am: |
|
Alright... if any one wants to read the online journal of a young lady who is in the Army serving in Iraq, go
here.
Right now, she's being transferred to another base and is worrying about leaving the stray cats she adopted and feeds...She said that the Marines took one of them (Xena)... heh.
(Message edited by Mark on November 27, 2004) |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 62
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 5:07 pm: |
|
Gr8 Reads Guys!
I checked out your link Mark.
Interesting to say the least.
About the guy that took out the "wounded insurgent". I have to say it was lack of leadership and reality. From what I could see there was nothing tagged to show the area was cleared, or there were wounded inside. As far as the Marine was concerned he was clearing a building. He found two dead, well thought was dead fighters in a room. One was behind the other which gave him cover from the door the Marine was positioned. The Marine was aware that traps were set in this kind of situation. He shot the guy who by his own experience would have killed him. |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 63
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 6:19 pm: |
|
They call you a beast when you make a mistake
A theory of one when thousands met fate
Elect the monsters that manage chaos
Then strip this soldier of what he's made of |
Lapis
Senior Member
Username: lapis
Post Number: 529
Registered: 3-2004
| | Posted on Saturday, November 27, 2004 - 6:36 pm: |
|
Memories 1978
Ancient days gone by I long for thee
Times of and for power magick and intense knowings
To see that which is not seen and ramble through the Gods rejected dreams
Living, creating entities with a single thought
Velvet banners brush gently across my eyes while candle flames whisper their tales of eternal truths
Fowl feline steed am I swathed in this veneer of skin, all powerful, all knowing
Touching the galaxies beyond fingertips pluck lights from above
sprinkle them about these sleeping lands to see that which laid hidden |
LaSalle
Intermediate Member
Username: lasalle
Post Number: 168
Registered: 9-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 29, 2004 - 3:30 pm: |
|
THE FORSAKEN INFANT
(7/14/68)
Last night, I received an odd invitation
From someone I don't think I know
And the driver insisted we leave right away
Before I was dressed up to go.
We arrived at this house which was right behind mine
(Why did I never see it before?)
With the curtains drawn tight and the lights all turned off
Except at the double French door.
We entered this vaguely familiar dark house
Into a large, sunken room
And I sensed I had been there before, in the past
And it gave me a feeling of doom.
The fellow with me seemed known to me, too,
But it was too dark to surmise
For his features and form were hidden from view
Except for his glistening eyes.
Just then I heard a muffled cry
From someplace in that dwelling.
An infant's plaintive, forlorn cry!
In me, alarm was swelling.
"A baby's here? Alone? But why?"
I demanded explanation.
"Who would leave a child alone?
I want investigation!"
He extended his hand and I followed
Up the narrow stairs to my right
And the infant's cries grew louder.
I was filled with incredible fright!
He, silently, opened the door of a room
Filled with a soft, pinkish light
And there in a crib was the forsaken baby,
Crying with all of its might.
My companion bid me to enter the room
To soothe and comfort the child
But I balked at crossing that threshold
And my anger rose up raw and wild.
"Who did this?" I screamed. "Whose baby is this?"
He merely looked in my eyes
As if he were saying, "Don't you know?"
As I fainted, my mind screamed, "ALL LIES!!!"
I awoke from my swoon back at my house,
Crying in deepest dispair,
For that child was somehow a part of me
Stuck in a time-warp somewhere! |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 64
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 29, 2004 - 9:36 pm: |
|
Thank you Lapis,
Don't we all want to raise the vail.
LaSalle you make me weep.
Mirrors
Fragile is the mirror
The psyche hides behind
Reflecting our delusions
From fear of what we find
That we are still the child
Shaken and alone
When brought out in the open
Outside our comfort zone
Confusion is a constant
The measure of all things
With the flooding of emotions
Our shattered mirror brings
Things that lay hidden
In the recesses of the mind
Come out to rule the moment
Future thoughts aside
Lashing out at loved ones
Meaning no offense
Sharpness of the tongue
A spiritual defense
Saying many things
We rapidly regret
Slipping even further
Praying you forget
Sweeping up the pieces
Saving every one
Rebuilding our delusions
Battles yet begun
Puzzling the pieces
From the many shards
Glue of understanding
Reducing many scars
Buffing it with love
Polished shiny new
To find that little child
You'd need a jeweler's view
When it's all together
We say that we have grown
Mirror shining brightly
With illusions of our own
~m@c~ |
Eye_of_pyramid
Advanced Member
Username: pyramid
Post Number: 469
Registered: 8-2001
| | Posted on Monday, November 29, 2004 - 10:17 pm: |
|
My eyes tear up many times,
reading all these fine rymes,
I get lost in what is is behind,
Hiddin in the truth of the grind,
I Love the human mind,
even in a tight bind,
The things seem to change,
As if on a vast open range,
There is no gage,
to limit one in a cage,
Perfection isn't the goal,
Just part of the soup bowl,
No one knows or sure,
What lies therin the cure,
Only please let it flow,
And don't think He'll let go,
Its about history repeating,
Trying to get some new angle,
Its hard to promote believing,
To start everything is a mangle,
But not to fret,
Somethings afoot,
the calvary is in town,
I heard the don't play around,
So get up off the ground,
Cause somethings hanging around,
maybe over your town...
LOL
play |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 633
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 29, 2004 - 10:49 pm: |
|
got steel in is chest
stride in is walk
glacial hate
straight razor talk
eyes laser sighted
nine double m slugs
blood on is hands
from the graves thats been dug
concertine heart
scarred silent by screams
holds no illusions
harbors no dreams
got no messiah
no soul to be saved
got no pall beareres
to walk to the grave
but he got the cold sod
that covers all lies
cause he got the two pennies
gonna cover is eyes |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 634
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Monday, November 29, 2004 - 10:55 pm: |
|
hail mary sweet jesus
time and time and again
bless me or damn me
father for i have sinned
no repentant penance
gonna lay me to rest
no wavering faith
to be put to the test
prometheus lucifer
old loki and me
forget not poor odin
on the worlds own tree
no heaven awaits
to bring respite from pain
no hell fiend can bait me
or call me by name
i've no time for hatred
anger or fear
alibis lies
soft sighs or tears
i found truth cold
and comfort
in a bosom of sod
as i stood on skull mountain
quarreling with GOD
~warlocks debutante ball |
Mark
Advanced Member
Username: mark
Post Number: 487
Registered: 2-2001
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 30, 2004 - 8:56 am: |
|
Open City
To say only God knows
Is a cop-out at best
a haven for fools
They think life is a test
A test only for them
They're jealous, you see
For what they don't know
They think others can see!
So their efforts stop short
Inhibition and awe
"Mysterious!" they cry
"We bow to the Law"
But you got to start somewhere
If only he knew
The beginning is over
There's no testing when through
No authority figure
No judge to impress
Not even himself
There is only The Quest
It begins with a footstep
upon solid ground
Earth's feedback important
Heaven's promise unsound
When I think of the Time lost
an act to repent
In fear of an error
or sword that is bent,
I wonder why people
don't take by the throat
This chance of the lifetime
preferring to gloat
To value their harbor
And never set sail
Landlubbers forever
Preserving the Veil.
How interesting the texture
The weave is so tight
Unravel it never
Better sit tight...
The storm clouds will gather
The wolves will bring news
But the dry-footed sailor
Has nothing to lose.
-Mark
(Message edited by Mark on November 30, 2004) |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 642
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 30, 2004 - 3:05 pm: |
|
nothing to win
to lose or to prove
to the death of all breath
insists that it moves
one eye facing east west
the other south north
in a voice like the angels cries
lazarus
come forth! |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 65
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 30, 2004 - 6:35 pm: |
|
We try and we try
But truth they deny
When seldom the spirit
Rings forth a reply
Left to the herds-men
To tell them what's right
When blood now is flowing
And lies that incite
Pray for the people
Stuck in the sh_t
Lost in the language
Of Satan's omit
~m@c~ |
GabrielWarlockStrange
Senior Member
Username: warlockstrange
Post Number: 651
Registered: 5-2004
| | Posted on Thursday, December 02, 2004 - 11:37 pm: |
|
wake up ina window seat
lonsome whistle whines
wheels a clickin tickin
just marking passing time
outside a twisted midnight sky
melts into a misty ground
crack a blood shot eye
and roll it slow around
see little sally some body
sits just across the way
took seconal to bed last night
won't wake up today
and 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 aramani
three piece suit
that won't 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 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 martyr's 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
got a handle on
the nighttrain |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 66
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Friday, December 03, 2004 - 12:15 am: |
|
Sorry I added a few lines so I'm reposting it.
We try and we try
But truth they deny
When seldom the spirit
Rings forth a reply
Left to the herds-men
Who tell them what's right
When blood now is flowing
And lies that incite
Do onto others
The son of man said
Doing them first
Is depravity’s bed
Pray for the people
Stuck in the sh_t
Lost in the language
Of Satan's omit
Machine laundered past
Hiding from view
The ways of the whelp
And how he’d f__k you
Bring to the office
A terrible taint
Such is the way
Of this bas__rd saint
~m@c~ |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1585
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Friday, December 03, 2004 - 12:42 am: |
|
you never amuse me
you don't make me smile
our long conversations
are hardly worthwhile
with your brilliant mind
i'm not much impressed
all those sweet things you say
well i couldn't care less
i don't crave to be held
in your loving embrace
or to feel your breath
on the side of my face
i don't give a thought
about your tender kiss
your tongue exploring my mouth
is nothing i'd ever miss
can't imagine your fingers
caressing my breasts
or your taste on my lips
as i move down your chest
i don't see your face
when i close my eyes
never think of your body
moving inside my thighs
to lie down beside you
to cast off our clothes
is a crazy idea
i completely oppose
and just so you know it
you must always remember
with you all alone
i could never surrender
i don't want to touch you
feel the heat of your skin
to lick you all over
i could never begin
i don't want you inside me
lying belly to belly
and the thought of it doesn't
make my knees turn to jelly
so don't get any ideas
about things that aren't true
i'm just letting you know
that i've never liked you
never will
never ever
won't go there
not gonna happen
you know that
don't you?
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~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 67
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Friday, December 03, 2004 - 7:23 pm: |
|
Of night's long kiss I'm waiting still
To bring in the dawn as lovers will
How I long for your embrace
Pray my bed you soon will grace
Our spirits robed in love's sweet bliss
Awaiting only our first kiss |
~m@c~
Junior Member
Username: mr_alleycat
Post Number: 68
Registered: 11-2004
| | Posted on Friday, December 03, 2004 - 8:14 pm: |
|
It can be so
Just say the word
That I may be
Your humming bird
|
susi t learn
Senior Member
Username: etsi
Post Number: 3833
Registered: 4-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, December 04, 2004 - 10:05 am: |
|
another "60's" poem:
she's tart, she's sweet
she's wild and unpredictable
she's anything your mind molds her to be
or does she mold your mind?
she teases you and seduces your senses
whispers intimate suggestions
in your ear
tempting you to be guided by her
she drops you into a fire then laughs
at you
but retrieves you-sending you into
an ecstasy
she takes you by the hand and leads
you swiftly
soaring thoughts above
all material things
she sharpens your mind
she leads you into infinity-exploding
she's powerful, confident and gentle
her name is mary jane. |
susano
Senior Member
Username: susano
Post Number: 1606
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, December 05, 2004 - 5:01 am: |
|
at the end of the pier
stands a lonely man
heart as grey
as the december sky
heavy and full of turmoil
a dark layer
over the icy waters
of the deep black lake
churning and crashing
smashing against the rocks
which this water
will turn into sand
a million tiny beads of granite
lining the shores
of the this body
holding it like a jewel
reflecting the mood
of the winter
afternoon light and wind
howling
calling the man
to the waves
and the rocks
and the sand
impressed with his footprints
for the briefest moment
between the tides
where he has has disappeared
below the whitecaps
to be delivered back
to the beach
which no longer holds
any trace of him
for he is gone
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: 1628
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, December 07, 2004 - 3:06 am: |
|
hehe, did my last happy thoughts kill the thread? 
i yam what i yam
- popeye
|
nomadrat
Senior Member
Username: nomadrat
Post Number: 1056
Registered: 2-2001
| | Posted on Tuesday, December 07, 2004 - 3:22 am: |
|
Susano,
Just want to say your stuff is fantastic, really.
"Could you be loved?"
-Bob Marley
|