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Daily Poetry

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19:47 / 18.01.07

I've searched for a thread revolving around poetry and subsequent constructive criticism, but couldn't find it. Although this could just be attributed to my tendency to not look around hard enough, is there such a thread?

In keeping it on topic:

Spoon fed summer child
gets lost in rainy days.
He remembers little
of being little
and attributes it to Purple Haze.

Spoon fed lonely boy
never gets enough attention.
He fears everything
about everthing
and attributes it to Manson.

Spoon fed hairy basketcase
in constant need of a shave.
He forgets weekends
due to weekends
and attributes it to Cave.

Spoon fed smoking drunk
gets nervous without smoke.
He is always moving
when not moving
and attributes it to Folk.

Spoon fed easy target
delights in playing the fool.
He is always joking
without joking
and attributes it to Rule.

ONLY NICE THINGS

05:22 / 19.01.07

I think people generally start their own, when they have poetry they want to have critiqued. We could have a parallel thread to this one for poetry that's allowed to be criticised... feel free to start one. Or maybe have a tag for poems posted here, along the lines of [CAN CRITICISE] - however, discussions about poetry can get quite heated, so it might disrupt the elysian calm of the thread.

22:19 / 19.01.07

thanks for the info, I'll try and work up the courage to start my own thread.

on topic.

The plot is 'kay?

"What man has ever questioned
since the dawn of time.
Woman has known all along,
that nature springs divine.

And hope might spring eternal,
for it is a fountain cursed.
Mention not the play infernal,
for we have not rehearsed."

"What play you say?"

"I shall not, nay,
never speak its name!"

for:

"Hark, young fellow, when;
A certain play is mentioned.
Many things dark will then;
Leap out of misty corners
Expect of it only evil doing;
T'is never but a fleshwound"

"Is this that play?"

"It is not, nay
but bring not shame upon us!"

but:

"Master, one uttering surely;
Alone can do no harm?
Cursed we shan't be really;
Because of a single name.
End we not all superstition
Through fearless confrontation and;

Hear we not the voice of angels, after it is done?"

"It is the name of the play,
one never should say.

Curtains drawn on callous nights,
hide far too many dangers.

Many are the foolish men
who think it but a tale.
Dead or dying, all of them
struck down without fail!"

22:10 / 21.01.07

this is an impulsive newbie attempt, so bear with me...

Kryptonian Poetry

(In Orbis Memoriam)

The crimson skies above my head
The ice fields beneath my feet
The Red Eye all around

they ill my memory
Of times eons ago
I myself have never seen

Scarlet Jungles and Jewel Mountains
Shattered to pieces
In the final moments of my birthplace

But there I still remain
A phantom in the zone
Witness to a planetary requiem

Doomed for as long
As my solitude continues
Under this light of Rao

22:27 / 22.01.07

An attempt to capture the evening...

The new moon smiles her cheshire cat smile
the horses stand guard at the gate.
The sun goes down, and I follow to town,
Where the street lamps are gold like the sky,
And the moon's cheshire cat smile is up high.

The new moon smiles her cheshire cat smile,
The crows call, silhouettes in the tree,
The star shines above, I descend to my love
Cross the river that bubbles with glee
As the moon's cheshire cat smile shines on me.

04:06 / 27.01.07

To speak with one who is
former life aquaintance
The age of fish is coming
to a timely end

With german war songs
on the ears at all time
We march on through
the desperation

To meet someone who is
an older version of yourself
Is quite a strange thing
to now have known

With french revolution poster
on the verge of tears
We guillotine those who
meet all of the

requirements

There is no valve sation
There is no scesape
There is no nuture fation
There is no wrath of grape

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

02:02 / 31.01.07

I did not let you in, willingly.
I did not open the door, willingly.
I did not breathe in, willingly.
I washed my hands. I did. Willingly.

The precipice between
must have been great.
Did you cross it, willingly?
Leap, willingly?

Sick-Maker, you have clogged me. Willingly,
I'm sure, you've done this willingly.
Rat-trap throat for spores of phelgm.
Trussed up with ragged limbs, no, not willingly,
failing from exhaustion, unwillingly
to move me. My head is no longer my head.
It's yours, now, unwillingly.
You remade it, willingly,
yes you did, do not deny it.

I'd spit you up, willingly.
I'd leave you for dead, willingly.
I'd flush you down and walk away, willingly.

00:30 / 06.02.07

Painter Captor:

You compensate with guilt,
and revel in your sorrow.
You believe it to be moral when,
memory whips the mind.

You are your own submission.

You do nothing because of it
and envy those who grow.
You think it righteous judgement when,
you are left behind.

You are your own omission.

The desire to be free
is like the painting on your prison wall;
The reminder of captivity
and the altar of fruitless worship.

05:38 / 06.02.07

I was looking through an hourglass, just the other day,
wondering if each grain of sand had a predestined sense
of when it should fall, as if each one were numbered.
I thought to myself, how does it know to run for exactly one hour,
and so decided to time it, just to make sure.
I watched each grain fall slowly, swirl and drawl, slipping
down the pinched neck into the catchment below,
thinking how it might never run out, how each piece could be
a piece of god, endless and infinite, forever there.
But run out it did. I checked my watch,
fifty eight minutes.

11:04 / 07.02.07

Softly cry, my slippers.

The squeaky lament
of my blue blue slippers
Remind me of smurfs
I kept in a box

As a child I found
these blue blue creatures
carrying torches
and stealing my socks

The floral print on
my blue blue curtains
Permits me to do
things privately done

The creaking then
of my blue blue chair
Is sign of the pleasure
One gives to one

The squeaky lament
of my blue blue slippers
Remind me of youth
and the nature of weight

As a child I found out
that blue blue creatures
need oxygen too
but it was too late

Leigh Monster loses its cool

00:40 / 10.02.07

Has the goal been to stray so far from home
That comfort relinquishes claim on my bones
Or have I come seeking the colored tones
that pretty horizons are made of

The tea is too strong and the sugar too sweet
The rain whispers praises but soaks my feet
And I long night and day for body heat
But instead feed myself on honey

I'm trying to listen
I'm trying to hear
I'm hoping they call my name

I've got three different methods of hiding inside
One's a game, one's a ghost-friend who came when I cried
And one is my pure unadulterated pride
I can sing like that baby til nightfall

I can picture the monitor's glow on my face
I think I could know myself here in this place
Self awareness for one night my own damning grace
But instead I retreat into hoping

I'm trying to listen
I'm trying to hear
I'm hoping they call my name

Seven weeks til I'm free to be freer than free
Til the path-mirage dances again before me
I could uproot my heart from the banks of the Lee
If I thought it would put me in motion

I have no music begging to fly from my hands
I have no moral compass to guide me to land
I have one mortal hourglass counting the sands
But I've no plans and no ticket home yet.

I'm trying to listen
I'm trying to hear
I'm hoping they call my name

01:51 / 10.02.07

Four in the morning
In London, again
As the thoughts run like wildfire
Through my brain

The sun will rise up
It'll be a new day, morning
And all across town
The folks will be yawning
And none of these guys will have to answer the question
About which, frankly, I'm currently stressing
As I sit here and look at the crumbling steeple;
'Frank, for God's sake, why shoot all of those people?'

'Because they deserved it!' I'll reply, if in court
'It wasn't a question of a simple bad thought
Those slags had mugged me
And assumed I'd get caught
Which I couldn't have had on my manor, no way
The youth would have thought I had no cards to play
As if it was bluster,
And I was trying to look hard
As they entered, the vipers,
Trying to do in my yard.'

22:32 / 20.02.07

Overrity is Sanitated

scribbling on the hand,
for want of paper surely,
he quickly jots down thoughts,
that never quite come clearly.

serving only to confuse,
what is already blurry,
he quickly jots down thoughts,
that never quite come early.

or maybe come late,
or maybe come quiet,
or maybe come nights,
or maybe come riots,

and little begging octopods
hold up six cups to pay the rent
of their father's condominium
built in shark-infested waters.

when salvation army workers,
are themselves so far from saved,
and globules of sweet knowledge,
come suddenly floating by;

"I'd show you my hali, but..."

21:17 / 26.02.07

Whence a memory came:

You came only into the kitchen
to kiss him before my eyes
Your presence an inviation
for an inward resort to lies.

Why do I still care for you
when I should not even care?
Why do I still hope for us
when hope has brought us nowhere?

The drink that burned my throat
and made me vomit on my coat
left to dribbling, pitiful dreams
where the remains of our future lie

I am emo, hear me cry.

19:22 / 01.03.07

Sun-golden towers
It dawns on me, suddenly
I'll never leave

Closed for Business Time

08:55 / 02.03.07

A closer blue the sky this morning

Even the stone-cutter outside on the street
at a higher pitched whine than yesterday's grey roar.

22:53 / 02.03.07

They wanted to name it Babylon,

but they could not,

in the end,

agree.

15:11 / 04.03.07

Count Dohna wears a dress

21:24 / 05.03.07

Save me from the saved...

Because of doubt I hear hem out,
hoping their words will cure me.

Always standing on a knife,
has not improved my balance.

Because of hope I can almost cope,
with their belief in a fallacy.

Always waiting on certain life,
has not given me truth.

Because of death I can almost let,
their false reasoning damn me.

Always hating the guilt of thought,
has not given me happiness.

Because of fear I can almost hear,
how words soothe them to my envy.

Always taking the things they hand out
has not lead me out of the tempest.

Closed for Business Time

15:26 / 07.03.07

Russel Sq.
Gold-brick hotels off melancholy's clouds.
Heads loll, fingers roll.
About to leave work..

The quivers from subspace
just gave me a hard-on. Must be the builders fucking in the basement.

Closed for Business Time

15:27 / 07.03.07

I'm in love on with the tube.
People, are they its lube?
Districts delayed - passenger action, man under train. Libations. Train eats woman. Superconducting rats. Our new masters.

14:02 / 08.03.07

To avoid any conflict,
to avoid any battle
I never once spoke out
on what I thought was wrong

I kept always to myself
, never the cage to rattle.
I sealed my lips in doubt
and buried my thoughts in sand.

When the policemen came
to my neighbour's house
I stood by and watched
as they took his life away

When the rally of the hateful
was marching down my street.
I kept my curtains closed
throughout the sunny day.

To avoid any conflict
to avoid any battle
I never once spoke out
on what I thought was wrong

I kept always to myself
, never the cage to rattle.
I sealed my lips in doubt
and buried my thoughts in sand

When the murderer was acquitted
and the victim, nameless, buried,
I did not cry out for justice,
or dwell on her decay.

When war was made on a people
and their children, cruelly slaughtered
I did not protest once
or stood in the soldier's way.

To avoid any conflict
to avoid any battle
I never once spoke out
on what I thought was wrong

I kept always to myself
, never the cage to rattle.
I sealed my lips in doubt
and buried my thoughts in sand

No dissent have I ever voiced,
so as never to tempt fate.
Still, violence now knocks upon my door,
and I am alone to face the state

I open my my mouth to protest
I breathe in the air to shout
I almost feel so free at last,
but no words will come out...

Leigh Monster loses its cool

05:10 / 19.03.07

Did nothing today, did not leave the room
The mind doesn't care but the body despairs
This is not true, this is not true

And I know that my practice, it is unclean
And I know that my practice, it is unpracticed
Does that make me not qualified to breathe?
My telomeres ticking, my self under siege
Raw talent untended spoils in the fridge.

The vineyards that were a child's paradise,
A father's hell unbeknownst to her.
And what am I putting him through this time
Next year I'll organize my crime.

Accustomed now to the rising sun,
Still I never go out to greet the dawn
I sit before my desk and yawn
And never think, 'tomorrow's come'

13:43 / 19.03.07

please,please,please let it die,
i shoulda kept it secret, my oh my,
it was just a random fun and jokin,
but i don't want my jaw to get rebroken,
im in huge trouble if word gets out,
why'd i go and run my mouth,
if confronted i may have to spin this,
i hate to lie but this guy could mean business

22:11 / 19.03.07

As a particularly maladjusted deity,
in the obscene pantheon of obscurity,
Gromsnar was feeling woozy as usual,
and narrowly escaping destructive tyranny.

Unabashed was his angry reply then,
to a most simple question posed to him;

"Have you shat in any good toilets lately?"

01:34 / 24.03.07

For wine makes many a drunk
and love lost makes many too.
Far below ocean's level I've sunk,
drowning while thinking of you.

For clumsiness makes many hurt
and love lost makes many too.
Far before the death of our birth, I was,
crying while thinking of you.

There is nothing beyond tonight,
that does not stink of jealousy

17:09 / 07.04.07

Stop, you ever-burning light
Filament of imagination
Caressing cheek
A warm voice speaks
Gentle fascination
I know, I know
How this story goes
I laughed when you said
You'd have my babies
And so, and so
We neither stay, nor go
And cozy up to maybes

07:51 / 08.04.07

dinner on the hob
chicken agnalotti tonight, and you
tapping away infusing that brain
with knowledge, about stuff. about stuff
that seeps outwards through your fingers,
that touch me in the night, quiet
spiders weaving incantations hung
across the corners of window, still in evening's
first dimming shawl. i'll grate the cheese,
shall i?

a moon circles the clouds,
the dinner left unfinished, the bed
ruffled and breathing, and a spider scuttles
as a moth hits the trap!

nowhere is there anything that says
i can't tell you i want to kiss you.
you are free to go, unfinished:
or dinner. a spider speaks.

the plates rock in the morning's bustle
of coffee and talk. you look across the morning
to your work, nourished by information
softer than silk in a dream's embrace.

20:53 / 08.04.07

I'm glad
That you are The Sunflower Man

You bring them when you come
Great slabs of happiness
And they reflect you

Beautiful, understated
Yet undeniably present.
There. Here.

When you leave
They absorb your absence

And you remain
Radiating your calm

Smiling at the world

22:40 / 11.04.07

Poorly worded:

Where doubt in mind
is conflict eternal.
Where shouting time
needs no rehersal.

Where shame and shallow
forever meet.
Where cold and hollow
skip a beat.

That is where I am

That is where we'll be

In the end it's just a scam

made. by. and. for. you. and. me.

14:05 / 15.04.07

on the head of a pin.
a thousand ways to die,
but only one way in.
one wonders, why?
calm center.
eyes straight.
just breathe.
sit.
wait.
all is not as it appears to be,
digging deep into history.
on the way back.
made a pact.
done with that.
nothing is as it seems,
just different packaging.
c'est fait de complet.
it rises,
and falls,
done 'fore it begins.
all to be balanced,
on the head of a pin.

12:27 / 16.04.07

multi ring circus
jumping through hoops
wheels in motion
taken for a loop

taken for a loop

...for a loop

...a loop

...a loop

...a loop

dizzy now.
must sit down.

14:26 / 27.04.07

Captain America Arrested With Burrito In Pants

They arrested Captain America.

A doctor,
a healer,
who donned a mask and muscle-sculpted body-suit.
Who got drunk and high on
substances of ill-repute
and
his feelings of invincibility,
and assaulted a woman when she would not touch the burrito in his pants.

A hero denied.
His substitute dick and foam musculature wasn't enough to sway a woman
the way he thought she ought to be swayed.
Covetous of her cradle of civilization,
he gave her an ultimatum.
And then...

Attack.
Cop-call.
Handcuffs.
News crew.
Mugshots.

And suddenly, our hero is hiding evidence.
Flushing narcotics down a prison toilet.
Trying to get rid of the damned burrito,
the processed and sanitized meat product
that once enhanced his manhood.
Trying to hide the macho strut,
the power-mad bluster,
travel-sick and shit-scared on the ride back from the Land-of-Do-as-You-Please.
Yet, still he stops for photo-ops
after making bail.

He's in rehab now,
is Captain America.
It was the drink.
It was the drugs.
It was the mask.
They made him do things he didn't want to do,
I'm sure.

But he did them.
And there's no shield he could pick up
that's strong enough to protect him now.

All eyes turn to see.

Look!
They've arrested Captain America!
Turns out he was just another asshole
who hid behind a mask
and wrapped himself in the flag
Means to his own disgusting ends.

19:51 / 27.04.07

A.B.B.R.I.N.E.T.

I R0fFL Teh L0LZ0R
I Fn0rd Teh L33T
Teh N00BZ & Teh HAXXORZ
I CTRL. & DEL.

IMNSHO, it = EZ
@TEOTD it = ME

4ICOTFLUTS

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

15:36 / 05.05.07

Frontyards birth rusty cars and the occasional lawn instrument - particularly the rakish rake, unforgiveably sexy and dangerous to know when it's not being directed in the acquisition and management of wayward foliage. Frontyards are the bastion of uncomfortable, forbidden, drippingly-moist sex-thoughts. The frontyard is a creature of impulse, of grass reaching out for the sun and duly dew-lubed.

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