Poetry Corner

[The Decapitated Mole]

Here are some lyrics I wrote. All of them are actual songs, if you guys want to hear them I can link you.


"The Birds and the Bees"


All the creatures of land and of sea
they're all politely curious.
Not one of them knows what it is to be
living a life so luxurious.
They're wondering if they've done anything wrong
you see, they've noticed what's happening
And while you deny anything's going on
their whole world is tumbling down

Now all the flowers and the birds and the bees
they're beginning to worry.
Because just like the creatures of land and of sea
their time's running out in a hurry
The flowers are withered.
The bees, they are starving.
The birds are so thirsty.
But still they don't know what's going down.

So what are you going to do now?
Now that it's all gone.
Nothing left to take
The human race is run
What are you going to do now?
Took it all for yourself
Not a thought for the future
Not a thought for anything at all unless it had something to do with you and your wealth

All the creatures of land and of sea
they're all living together now.
And of all the flowers and the birds and the bees
there's not a single one left now.
Everyone living in such harmony
so far beneath the ocean waves.
Without any people like you and like me
our once troubled world is such a big happy place



...and this one is called "Scrubs."


I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me

I get insecure
I don't feel quite right
I sit home all day
and think about tonight
what will I do?
what will I say?
who will I meet?
will they be okay?
where will we go?
what will we do?
will I get high?
will I get with you?
And one thing I've noticed
is no matter how hard I try
I can't make myself into anything
any different than I

and I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me

I try to be cool
I try to act right
I tried to be a rock and roll star
but I just couldn't quite
And when will somebody notice
I'm just crying out for help?
But if I could see your face every day
I'd forget about everything else

And I can never be
whatever I want to be
I can never be
anything other than me
no, no, no, no!

[Gavin Luper]

TDM: "The human race is run" is such a cool line. Although the last line in the third stanza seems kind of unnecessarily long - is there a reason for it?

I'd love to hear the songs, so go ahead with the link. Especially for "scrubs", I found that one had a really palpable mood of helplessness and it would be interesting to see if the vibe of the song matches the lyric's mood.

Cheers!

[The Decapitated Mole]

Strangely enough, Scrubs is... well, I'll let you hear it. This version is far from perfect, it's the first time we played it live and only probably the 3rd time we played it ever, so it's pretty rough around the edges. I'm glad you picked up on the message of the lyrics though - most people miss out on that given the way the song sounds.

And the reason for the really long line is that I sing it really fast.. a lot of the rhythm and meter I use kind of has to be heard to be understood.. it doesn't look great on paper but it sounds awesome in my head.
(Birds and Bees and Scrubs)

Here's another one... it's not titled, and I'm working on the musical aspect.



I can't think
the city is smothering me
and I'm trying to live, I just want to be free.
And it hurts sometimes
with the smog in your eyes
While the sun shines off apartments scraping the sky
And I can't live like this
surrounded by things that remind me
of how much I know
of how much I know that it's not happening yet
And you know that it's not happening yet
and you feel so cold and trapped inside
you don't even know what it's like to be alive
so you run
you run
you run
you run
and you SCREAM
And you realize that all of that does you no good
so you pack up and move out of your neighborhood
'Cause you know that you need something new
You know that you need something right
You know that you need a change of pace
so you can figure out why you can't sleep at night
And you know that you're right
You know that you're right
Why don't they understand?
You're not looking to fight
So you run
Scream!
Run.
Scream!
So terrified that you might just stay alive
might just stay alive

And outside there's smoke
For inside is burning
burning up everything you keep inside
And there's absolutely nothing to do
except to run
Screaming
as fast as it is fair to go
Everywhere - noise!
Nowhere is queit and peaceful until you look up at the sky
and you cry
You cry to the moon
You cry to the sun
You cry to the stars
and then you fly

[Gavin Luper]

Thanks for posting the link, dude! I'm always impressed when people on here take their lyrics further and actually set them to a melody and record them, like when Ada gave us the link to Rain Eternal. Plus, it takes some balls to reveal anything like that live.

I liked the tunes. I can definitely see what you mean about the message of Scrubs being lost in the sonic atmosphere of the track. On paper (or screen) it's a much darker, more depressing piece, but the music it's set to has poppy, excited drums and bouncy guitars - sort of a real New Wave sound. I guess if you don't want your audience to slit their wrists, that's a decent approach to take. Besides, I often find that a lot of New Wave groups - like Blondie and The Police - created really upbeat-sounding songs that were actually about much more serious issues (I'm thinking of X Offender by Blondie and Message in a Bottle by The Police).

Ironically (or maybe just coincidentally - my comprehension of the word irony has been fatally warped by Alanis Morissettte), Birds and Bees reminds me of the sort of song that would be featured on the TV show Scrubs. They always seem to go for that sort of jangly, alternative-y acoustic music while JD comes to a realisation about something or other. And yours had a nice melody, even if I agree that it would've probably worked better on an acoustic guitar. On balance, I'd say I liked this song more out of the two: it had an almost coffee-house vibe to it, which I love.

In all, good on ya for working that hard at your songs, it's paid off. The latest lyric is darker than its two predecessors, although the denoument is more promising, I suppose. Though the closing imagery doesn't quite work for me - I'm not sure why, it seems a bit too cliche, or like it's too easy a solution to the trauma that comes before it. That might just be personal taste. In any case, good luck working on the musical translation to it.

This is just something I did as apart of a uni assignment: it's one of a cycle of six poems. Enjoy!

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throb

i have been denied

and you
you have a wager
on your sixth vodka and coke

i have cowed all week

and you have suffered too
beneath your cakey crust
i know you’ve bruised

i have been silenced
been slurred at and never stomached well

and you
you have a cheersquad
in support of your bared breasts

i have wanked

all year.

you are a bass throb through Hush Puppies
you are a flickering heroin-blue toilet light

I fuck. I fuck hard.

[Gavin Luper]

This thread might interest those who frequent the Poetry Corner.

Cheers!

[Bulbasaur4]

Decapitated Mole - I really like the description you have there and the repetition and partial repetition really got to me! I loved it! The ending seemed bittersweet and delicate at the end, which was a good contrast to the beginning with the SCREAM.

Gavin - Wow, that poem I had to read five times! (A good five times!) I liked the wording you used, such as "cakey crust" - put a really unique image in my mind. I liked the rough tone it had, and the ending really put a finale on that. A very grunge-esque feel to the poem, that I think conveyed a gritty emotion that was refreshing to hear.

I haven't contributed anything in a while, so I figured I might as well put out some new stuff I'm tinkering with. *NOTE* This poem's original format is different than what's shown because it's an image poem (formatted in certain places to give a specific reading flow). So, it isn't formatted perfectly due to TPM's limitations but oh wells!



Trap

A powdered snow moth flutters against the sultry match.
The fizzled flare of it struck against the cardboard box,
inhales the trickle of oxygen left in the air that

I thought was for me.

Just like the wandering flyer who aimlessly crawls into
the cavernous jaws of Venus herself.
The doors shut and the curtains are drawn and

I believed this was my desire.

The school of silvery fish must choose dolphins or the shore.
A pod chased them to choose an endless flop on the beach,
or a swift snap of the jaws but

I see my charcoaled options.

A crackling egg bursts forth, to certainly bring a new pair of eyes
to the paths of the tangling world.
A flash of ivory daggers swallow broken feathers, to bring
about an undeniable closing.

Yet between the egg and feathers, between the white and black,
there was a questionable grey.

An exotic display of vibrant feathers,
An erotic melodious song invitation,
An enormous power of urgency,
to never be alone.

I've made my decision.

But...

... despite this growing chain,
I want to break it.

[mistysakura]

Lots of stuff for me to catch up on...

TDM: Welcome back to TPM! Yay! Well, "Birds and Bees" has a misleading title, does it not? The lyrics work really well with the music -- especially the really long line, which leads nicely back to the guitar chords. Although poetically that line seemed a bit out of place because throughout the rest of the song it's talking about bliss and ignorance in general, then you've got one cynical line about materialsm, then it goes back to the general vibe. I like the rhyme of "curious" and "luxurious" -- it works perfectly without being out of place. Plus, the phrase "politely curious" is just so... curious.

Scrubs: Yeah, I wasn't expecting the happy vibe either. But the lyrics still work -- they're not all about wallowing in misery, they're not all about rage, but they're all about trying -- and the vibe I get from the music is that it's telling the world it's putting on a happy face. The lyrics are simple, but that's where the power comes from -- like the music, it's very direct and unafraid to express itself. The only thing I have to criticise is the video -- and of course, that's because it was still rough around the edges. But the drums seemed really hollow and echoey, eating up the bass' sound. Maybe something a bit more crunchy would work better. I'm sure it's sounding tons better now though

Good job on getting the videos up (and not cheating by cutting and pasting like I did )

throb: *jaw drops* the repetition is used to great effect, creating a resentful tone, almost like the speaker is spitting in "your" face. A similar thing happens with the punctuation and line breaks for emphasis. Like Kalah, I like the "cakey crust". Like the crust on a wound, but also sugary on the outside... and the cake is a lie. But for some reason, I had to read "been slurred at and never stomached well" a couple of times. Perhaps it's the "at", which weakens the impact of the phrase "been slurred at" (hehe, this is why you don't put prepositions at the ends), although I'm not sure what else would work. Also, should it read "never stomached it well"? And it feels like too many adjectives have been attached to the word "light" in the penultimate line, although the image of "heroin-blue" is really memorable. Once again, *jaw drops*

Trap: Hehe, TPM really doesn't like formatting. In one of my poems, I had to put a string of letters with the same colour as the background colour, just to get the lines to indent properly in a list. I really like the imagery, especially the last flicker of oxygen and the Venus flytrap. It was a great idea to look into the "literal" meaning of Venus flytrap and see the desire after which it's named. The last ray of hope is portrayed so well here. The "certainly" broke up the image of the egg for me though; it seemed too objective. Maybe something more emotional would work better. Anyway, I like the shape of the poem, especially the standalone "I've made my decision" at the centre. And I like the juxtaposition of "exotic" and "erotic". Keep up the good work

[Asilynne]

When Asi cant sleep shit happens o.o

This poem is called All Things Must End:

Whats inbetween
the truth and the lies
whats inbetween
to live and to die
I find myself uncomprehending
longing for this worlds ending
as I watch the simple things die
apathy is everyones alibi
while those who grieve must say goodbye

when there is nothing left to try
how will you justify
the rape of everything pure you once knew
there was a time that you cared
but now its clear youve been stripped bare
of everything pure that was you

Is this whats true?

Ive tried to live
the way the world wants
Ive tried to forgive
the past which haunts
But in my waking dreams
all I hear is the heart-wrenching screams
as I watch the simple life die
the memories make everyone cry
while those who forget will say goodbye

when there is nowhere left to go
how will you know
when the old wounds have been healed
there was a time it was right
but now its clear youve brought to light
the old wounds you still feel

Is this whats real?



Im sorry its depressing :<

[PancaKe]

Wow. I haven't been here or written poetry in ages! Gosh. I really should pick it up again. I forgot how relaxing writing and reading poetry was!


Oh, Mikachu Yukitatsu - just wanted to say that I thought it was awesome the way you changed the Blind Guardian song. Yeah.. I know its a really old one far up the page but thought it deserved a mention.

So.. maybe I'll write something now.




It blinks.
Once. Twice. And then a third time.
It is repeating itself.
Constantly blinking.
It's mocking me. I'm sure of it.
It's watching me.
It's waiting for me to begin.
But I can't.
No, I just can't.
Not with it's taunting eyes, judging every moment.
I begin to write.
Click.
Click click click.
Letters form words.
Words form sentences.
Sentences form prose.
I read what I have done.
And in a flash, it's gone.
All that is left
is a haunting blink.

[Weasel Overlord]

@PancaKe: I really wanted to know what the clicking thing was! I got the feeling it was like... a typewriter, or something. Might just me being blur though.

Here's something that I'd very much like constructive crit on. It stomped into my head over the Summer when I couldn't sleep, and it hasn't let me alone since. It's still not right though, and it's getting on my nerves... Could be those damned first 2 lines...
If anyone can get the tv reference, cookies will be forthcoming.

Can’t

Too warm maybe if I throw
the quilt away but now it’s too cold
stick a foot out and a leg aah that’s better.

Listen! It’s a fox! Could be
a fox it sounds like one but
it could be cats mating. I wonder

why my eyes creak click
clicking like machinery
louder than the clock.

But I thought horlick’s
was supposed to help you
sleep all chocolatey. Shouldn’t

have watched that one extra
episode (poor Owen) just can’t
resist - never can even though

it’s scary. I won’t remember
this in the morning.


And one more;


Alchemy

Change is in my blood like
a Painted Lady, stretching
her wings. Cold iron holds
its fascination in transmutation,
and I stare into liquid domes
as they bubble to the surface.

Is it madness, to see gold
in quicksilver depths? No.
I will master it. Bind it
with circle and exchange,
until the Golden Lady’s dances
unfurl only for me.


My creative writing class were super confused about the last verse. Mostly, the last two lines. If anyone has any suggestions for edits, lay 'em on me!

[Asilynne]

The blink if sprobably the blinking icon on a word pad page that blinks on and off when you arent typing and the clicks are the clicks on the keyboard when you finally start to write. Thats just what I get from it anyway >.> lol

As for Weasel thats awesome :O I especially liked alchemy, I think your classmates werent trying hard enough because it wasnt confusing at all to me :> the first one sounds like a song lol
My last poem was the one just before Pancakes, would like some feedback if anyone feels like it ^-^()

[PancaKe]

Ah Weasel Overlord - your poem made me smile. That first stanza (is that the right word lol) is hilarious. It describes me so much! Ahhhhhh yeah that's awesome.

And yes. I hate that stupid blink of the computer. Click click can be a typewriter, or keyboard. I am just frustrated cos I'm trying to get into writing again - and this blink is constantly mocking me

[Weasel Overlord]

Hm, Asi, I thought your poem was like a song too! What's with everything sounding lyrical in here, hehe. Few things to nitpick at though... (sorry, I have to do this for creative writing twice a week. It's a hard habit to break ¬_¬)

-I liked the effect of not using punctuation, but I wasn't sure whether it was deliberate because you're not consistent with it. If you're gonna go with nothing all the way through the poem, take out those capital letters too. It's very e.e. cummings (who is weird)
-I really liked the repetition of the line "is this what's true?"
-Not sure about "waking dream". It's kinda cliché sounding and it just brings Shakespeare to mind straight away. Personally, I do love the image, BUT it's just far too over-used to have any effect.

Overall, I think it's a good poem. It has some lovely imagery ("apathy is everyone's alabi" I particularly liked), but it could really benefit from some paring down. Some of the lines seem a bit over-long on the page.

Hope that's ok!

OH and I wanted to comment on yours too, Gav (Throb, I mean). As the reactions before seem to have been... my jaw kinda dropped, hehe. It's kinda on the wow side. I especially love the way you use taboo language to create such a shocking effect! My favourite bits were "cakey crust" (I like cake... what can I say!?), and "a cheersquad/for your bared breasts." It just sounds so... I dunno, bitter. Lovely! Can't wait to see the rest of the cycle.

[Lady Vulpix]

Is Alchemy the poem about an archaic profession? I like it! And I see nothing wrong with the nice 2 verses, they make it sound like the protagonist is trying hard to be the first one (even the only one) to achieve this goal. I don't quite understand the other poem, though. What am I missing?

[Weasel Overlord]

It's one of the two, yeah! I can post the other one if people want. It was just much more successful than Alchemy, so I figured I wouldn't.

Uhh, the first one's about not being able to sleep, lol. It generally takes me a good few hours to get to sleep, and it's meant to be a sort of... train-of-thought piece. You know, like um... argh, words, they have abandoned meee. Um. OH GOD WHAT'S IT CALLED ARGH stream of consciousness, there. *hits brain* I did literally write down what was going through my mind at the time. With a few alterations after the fact, of course, hehe.

[Lady Vulpix]

Ah... it makes sense now. Trains of thoughts can be odd like that. And I can very much relate to the problem. :-/

Which reminds me... I should start trying now. Good night, and thanks for explaining.

[Captain Pringle]

Here's a short piece I wrote last summer. It's admittedly a bit hard to follow, but I'll refrain from explaining the poetry away.

~ The Brothers Two ~

In times ne'er too distant, and places not far,
Two brothers lived richly in two castle tow’rs,

All comforts provided, protected and kept
By huge castle walls as the brothers two slept.

Each dreamed of a life where his hopes would be found;
One knew he couldn't reach his, one lived his out now,

~

For brother the second, he wanted no more
Than riches and comfort and maids at his door,

But brother the first, with an eye toward the dawn,
Left comfort and wealth and e’er since has been gone,

For riches and comforts and pleasures of men
He knew would ne'er last past his life's fateful end.

~

So, hopeful and tragic, they both reached their goals,
And what they each strove for was marked on their souls:

Young brother the second ne'er suffered a pain,
Nor trial nor loss till he lay in the grave;

Vast kingdoms he ruled from two towers on high,
And such glory marked him the day that he died;

~

Yet ne'er was a book writ’ of brother the first,
Who left all behind to pursue his deep thirst,

Save one poor man's poem, a mirror so small
Of God's book of life where this brother stands tall,

Where stories of poorest and widowed and lame
For pages eternal still sing of his name.

~

Still not for these stories, nor souls that he saved,
Could brother the first earn the grace that God gave;

The riches in heaven, his hope all along,
Were found in his heart which had been formed to God's.

Yea neither the men failed to dust to return,
But one soul lives on, thus our lesson to learn;

~

For after have passed all the kingdoms of lore,
This poem alone does his brother record.

[Shadow Wolf]

A realistic experience

He open his eyes in a disorientation
Where he's meant to learn the new knowledge of nations
His classmates are sharing their everyday lives
A girl at his side is now making him thrive

Her mouth flows with movement, but no sound is heard
not even the sound of the rest of the herd
He just can't ignore her dramatic hot looks
And starts to feel something not read in a book

She suddenly gives him a prominent stare
The kid is now thinking: "What's wrong with that glare?"
She gives him a wink while creating a whim
He's thinking of why did she do that to him

The boy is now thinking with anticipation
'Bout that sudden feeling that left hesitation
But just in a second, all thoughts came too late;
In that flowing second, he fell in her bait

He feels a snake's crawl and the hug of a bear
The art of her kiss gives a breathtaking flare
The girl made her move...and she stroke through his heart
His lips have been touched with her skill at the art

He wanted to love her, to get her attention
His dream has come true with her wondrous retention
He falls to her wonderful skill with a dove
The emblem and treat of new peace...and new love

He closes his eyes, succumbing to passion
while joyed for her wonderful act of compassion
He open his eyes...and he is lying in his bed
He's now in the real world; illusion is dead

He's feeling frustrated: "It's only a dream!"
and out of frustration, he gives a soft scream
But then, a tongue movement has left him surprised
His lips are now tasting like strawberry pie.


____________________



This poem is about an dream that left me in shock for the rest of the night a few days ago. I remember waking up at 3:21am and staying awake for the rest of the night. I believe that my mind fooled me on this one, since the last food before going to bed that night was ramen, so there was no way that ramen could taste like strawberry. I just finished editing, and it needs a few extra fixing, but my mind is tired after two hours of non-stop thoughts so any kind of help is welcome.

[Gavin Luper]

Okay, will try to reply to a few poems - there have been so many!

Asilynne: Well, yes, it was certainly not an upbeat piece, but that's not too far removed from most poetry. Alanis Morissette, who I am quite a big fan of, once said something about the two main forces in creativity being "love/joy" and "anger/pain". That's a pretty totalising claim, but I often keep it in mind as a reference point. It seems like pain is the core motivator of this poem, in the form of grief, almost. It's like the narrator is shadowed by the death of a simpler ideology and simply can't break out from the old way of being into the new; and at the same time, she knows she must (evidenced by the title). I found it a dark piece, yes, but mesmerising and honest. My only suggestion would be that you could shorten it and make a tighter poem out of it if you wished - maybe you could distill some ideas into metaphors or images? Then again, it does have a lyrical quality to it in its current form that you might want to preserve - it's like it's just tumbled out of your brain. Anyway, it's a good, emotive piece. I hope it was cathartic too.

Tara: LMAO. *reattaches arse* That cracked me up. It was so ominous, like the opening scene to a thriller movie, and then when it was revealed to be the cursor blinking it was like ... biggest plot twist material. Hehe. So true though, it conveyed so well the humour and utter trauma of losing everything you've written into the cruel realms of cyberspace. And the paranoia of the embattled writer: "It is mocking me." XD. Gnarly stuff.

Weasel: I loved "Can't", and half of that love was earned from the title. A single word that conveys limitation, struggle, helplessness and frustration all at once. You really used the stream-of-consciousness style to awesome effect here, especially because the subject matter matched the style perfectly. It embodies that awful brain chatter we seem to get right before bed. Seems like most of us poets are hopeless night owls - I could relate to this poem big time. I swear I WANT to go to sleep nice and early, but I just can't. Something always comes up. There's always a distraction. The last lines ("it's scary. I won't remember this in the morning.") don't really fit with this interpretation of your poem, but I loved them as a closing to a piece that centres on a person drifting (very, very slowly) to sleep.

Conversely - and I'll be honest here - I really didn't like "Alchemy" upon my first reading of it. It just seemed so staid - but I think the reason I felt that way is because of what came before it. We shifted from "Can't", which was filled with everyday images and a sort of lighthearted subject matter, to "Alchemy", which just seemed too starkly different in tone to be placed right afterward. Having said that, upon reading it again, I find it a really well-flowing piece, with a very eerie, contemplative mood, though I still can't really work out what it's about. I really like the question in the second stanza ("Is it madness...?") - it was a vulnerable line that ironically strengthened the poem.

Ceeps and Louis: Your poems both had an epic quality to them.

In the case of "The Brothers Two", it created a medieval atmosphere, especially coupled with the phrasings like "ne'er" (which I don't think I've seen since the old hymns they used to sing at church) and the old-fashioned syntax. It had a tragic vibe to it, and I found the last line ("This poem alone does his brother record") truly devastating.

With "A Realistic Experience", that epicness came from the surreality of the dream-like state (fairly sure I just invented two words there). It's odd that the poem should feel so ethereal, because the subject matter seems more in line with that of Firepokemon's grungy poem "Sleep" (see the Writing Sprint thread). I love writing that's based on dreams. One of my favourite Killing Heidi songs, "A Jar Labelled Small", is based on a dream that the lead singer had once. I've been listening to it for years and finding convergence in it, but I still don't know if I get what it really means. I feel a little bit that way with this poem. It seems straightforward, but it feels like there's more to it than a guy and a girl --- or is that all it is? How come it shocked you?

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Phew. That took ... a long time.

Thanks to everyone for their comments on throb. I'm glad it made jaws drop. And grungy is totally what I was going for --- or rather, grungy is what seems to naturally occur when I write sometimes.

This poem, "Good Man Sam", was written in lieu of a dozen other poems I've written about this particular person. I seem to have a truckload of vitriol aimed at this person (who probably deserves it) and it's taking a lot of writing to get that anger out.

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Good Man Sam

dear Good Man Sam
I’m embarrassed and
hesitant to say I’ve been hurt by you
because I’m hypermasculine too
I’m stoic and I drink beer too
and I don’t cry when I fall down the stairs

dear Palatable Sam
you spouted “best mate”
mateship: the most important thing
until that mate becomes
an embarrassment to you

dear Smiling Sam
you’re not the kind for a right hook
your smirk so subtle you temper my rage
until I’m fighting underwater
and kicking at air

oh, Big Man Sam
one day when you’re a corporate drone
I hope your boss is a horny fag
and to keep your swivel chair
I hope you have to lick his ass.

dear Good Man Sam
the next time I see you
I don’t want to shake your hand
or make small-talk plans
or buy you a coke and Jack’s
I just want my 30 bucks back

[Shadow Wolf]

Gavin: Actually, the poem was based on a dream, and it describes the experience in the dream, and after waking up. How would you feel if... after you wake up from a romantic dream, you feel your lips tasting like strawberry?

BTW, your poem made me laugh for no apparent reason. It probably was because I remembered Yosemite Sam, and thought of him as a pirate (barely reaching the streering wheel). Nevertheless, cool poem.

__________

Sorry for breaking the wait-two-replys-before-post rule, but I remembered a haiku I wrote some time ago, so before I forget it, I'll write it. I believe it's preety simple, though.

Love? No thanks!

Love is beautiful,
But it's filled with lots of pain.
I don't want to love.

[mistysakura]

Sorry for breaking the wait-two-replys-before-post rule

We have no such rule -- post ahead!

[PancaKe]

Memories & Photographs

If you are reading this
I know you are alive
but I really wish you weren't
I hope you are comfy
Sit down and sit tight
Here's a tale of what I've learned

Here's the blow
by blow, one by one
Every still you need to understand
Come on, lets go
I'll walk you through
Don't be afraid to take my hand

Hello my best friend
I'm so glad to see your face
Hello my best friend
Your the light in this dark place
Hello my best friend
You know my every thought
Hello my best friend
You just have to be so much more

We were so young,
two kids playing in
the mud, the sticks, the sand
I was once alone
Then you came
and saved me from myself

Years and years
of laughs, good times.
Memories and photographs
There was never
anyone else for me
I wish it were the same for you


Hello my best friend
Can you call me up tonight?
Hello my best friend
Tell me that we're going to be all right
Hello my best friend
I've never been so sure
Hello my best friend
You just have to be so much more

I watched
as it all fell apart
I saw the glistening shards
I tried to
pick up all the parts
The shattered remains are just too sharp

I can't forgive
myself for everything
that I've put myself through
If I can't forgive
me, well then how
the hell can I forgive you?

And I would love to show you
but I just can't show the scars
because nothing has ever healed.
I'd like to say we're still the same
but I still hate you.

[Mikachu Yukitatsu]

The following song is sung along the melody of Nobuo Uematsu's 'The Extreme' from the videogame Final Fantasy VIII.

THE EXTREME BEAUTY

Lyrics by Mikachu Yukitatsu
Finnish-English translation

Velhotar
Sorceress
Oot valtiatar mun
You are my queen
For what do I deserve
To look at you
When you look away
I'm jealous
When you look at me
I feel like I melt
My only strength is my weakness
Aamulla unestain herätessäin jos näkisin sut
In the morning, when I wake up from my dream, if I saw you
Aurinko sammuisi sun ihanuutes rinnalla
The sun would cease beside your sweetness
Your beautiful hair is flooding my mind
As you know
Tunteeni syö minut sisältä käsin
My emotion eats me from inside
MY
HEART
IS
YOURS
Vain naisellisuutesi tuo hallitsee mun sydämessäin
Only that feminity of yours rules in my heart

[classy_cat18]

Meltdown

Average
Adequate
Acceptable
Not good enough
This is me
How I feel
Chained down
Tied down
Tied up
I hate it

Can’t go higher
Can’t reach farther
Can’t dive deeper
Not good enough
This is me
What I think
In a cage
Reaching for you
Reaching for it
I hate it

He’s so talented
She’s so special
A real role model
Too good for me
This is them
What I see
Too far for me
Too high for me
I’m second best
I hate it

I’m so talented
I’m so special
I’m underestimating
Better than I think
This is you
What you say
Not what I see
Not high enough
Not good enough
I hate it

I’m intelligent
I’m thoughtful
But immature
Not good enough
Like a child
But also adult
I cry inside
I cry outside
Doesn’t help
I hate it

I scream at you
I glare at you
You don’t deserve it
I don’t care
You don’t help
You make me feel
So moronic
So irrational
So childish
I hate it

Someone talk
Someone listen
Someone be there
Talk to me!
Empty inside
Empty outside
I’ll push away
I’ll scream at you
I’ll ignore you
Don’t give up

Help…
Please…
Understand…

[PancaKe]

In my little pocket
I hold a little rocket
Only enough to make a tiny sting
But I stuffed the pocket rocket
right down into my sock, it
errupted with a tiny ding.

The ground shook and shook
I did not understand
I thought I made a wise choice
But I am merely a man

This once so little rocket
That rested in my pocket
Has turned out to be a big sham
It's small and shiny face
Made such a big disgrace
I cannot ever live this pain again.

[mistysakura]

I wrote this around April last year, but forgot to post it. There are some references to politics at my university, so if you don't understand some bits, that's probably why.


Demolition at University

The Brontosaurus crane, the fittest of its synthetic habitat,
towers over the cross-section of Biochemistry
(map reference I11), threatening dissection.
The penthouse crumbles in a lazy head tilt,
concrete dust showering from steel jaws.
The once-room surrenders to a frame of sky
spanned by torn-vine wires, filled with absent humans.

Territorial screeches chainsaw the nerves,
an ambush camouflaged in growing pains.
When the beast is satiated for the day
and lays its head among forgotten propaganda
nesting in the corner, birdsong rings too quiet.
Not a scrap dares creep, save sulphuric clouds
drifting as if from living chimneys,
in denial as mortar holds its breath.

All this clear through the hole ripped in the mesh forest
of the Rent-A-Fence, demonstrating the enclosure
mock resistance to the skyline machine
wreaking its junkyard trail through Melbourne,
where its clones picket their select grounds,
to Sydney and Brisbane and wherever blueprints lie
declaring The Evolution starts here.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Hi guys, thought I'd come clean. Here are some poems/songs I wrote. You can add any comments you want, it doesn't have to be constructive critism, any comments are good, negative or positive ones.

Easy, it's fragile

And eventhough your life is leeched and you're half past dead,
the sun still rises and the coin flips head.
You realise, none of your goals were reached.
You really did try, but your thoughts were sieged.

With hope behind a fragile door,
the weight of your heart on the lottery floor.
You smile, and turn yourself in.
The satire ends, with not the slightest grin.

None of your goals were reached.

You feel like you're getting schizo and he's your only friend.
A source of redemption that'll stick with you to the end.
A comical twist of events, like life is watching you in the pictures.
Even the damned deserve some love, even if it is a curse.

It's funny to realise you've been destined to love,
but there's not a soul to counterpart.

A trick, a sick joke, and still you are alone.
Wake up, check, nothing, and still you are alone.

None of your goals reached.

***

Drinks on the house


When I should stroll with my written tombstone on my back,
perhaps they'll mourn, for it's the right thing to do.
But in the end, it'll just be another name, another memory stored,
in the best interest of the ones I used to love.

So drink up that cup, with liquid relief, drink up.
To set you totally free, since it won't allow it otherwise.
That bittered soul. That can't forget, nor forgive.
EVen if it knows it's wrong.

Stubborn, stupid, selfcenteredness.

Like individuals do not count, like they left you to process.
Helpfully leaving alone, I loath, yet I'm tired of this advice.

Friends is just a nameless word, help is just a careless slave.
Time controls, yes, everything. Just as the books told you.
They don't care, oh, but they do, they just gave up, oh, as it should.
I spit, and smile, as hell burns again, just like old times.
Just like old friends.

And those who constantly care, agitate.
And it's oh so wrong, but it feels oh so fine.
Make them pay, for playing with those snakes,
who's inside fill my cup, that poison, all the time.
They're all the same. Drink up.

Stubborn, stupid, selfcenteredness.

And I fall back, the spiral sucks me in again.
That crimson rollercoaster, it's so expensive.
Here we go, let's take another ride, it's free.
Just pay afterwards, with body and soul.

My vision is blind and my goggles are black,
but my stare goes all the way back.

***

There's more where that came from so if you like it, just give me a ring. If you don't, just post here.

[Otto=ottO]

Ah, my first post in 5 years. Let me stretch on my legs.


If Only you Existed

A holey vacation in a cheap mexican resort.
Little darts hit the wall behind my back.
Jeans, straw hat, bare feet on peanut shells.
We all know, eyes too dark to see in.
A confident stride, a silent wink, an ocean whisper.
Your existence isn't.
There are those who know how to hold
a sparkle in their eye, lovely and alone.
One prayer.
Two laughs.
Three counts.
Beckoning.
Four steps to be there.

[Weasel Overlord]

I've just been doing my creative writing crits, so apologies if I come across as being overly nit-picky. It's sort of encouraged in my classes, eheh.

Otto: I really like the last five lines, but I can't help but be distracted by the fact that almost every line is a grammatical sentence and ends with a full stop. It really breaks the poem up when I read it. Also, I'm not exactly sure what it's about. My tutors always tell me that the central theme needs to be clear, and unambiguous, otherwise you lose the reader.

MLG: The rhyme in the first one feels a bit contrived in places, and you repeat "damned" twice in the same line which is a definite no-no. In the second stanza, you say that "you smile" but then right after you say "with not the slightest grin" - a bit contradictory. My favourite part is the penultimate stanza, even though it's got quite a bit of repetition again - but I think that the punctuation could do a lot more work.

And now excuse me as I bombard you lovely people with my latest thingers. It seems I am writing a hell of a lot of poetry this year, which is, frankly, bloody weird.

Fandom is Bliss

Reading fanfiction until
the crack of dawn (and back),
cocooned cosy in a quilt.

Spotting your favourite actor
in an episode cast list,
wondering whether they’ll kiss (not likely).

His ruffled sex hair (perfect
for running fingers through),
all stubble and trenchcoat

Sitting reading in the kitchen while tea
cooks, carefully hiding the screen (can’t
let anyone see the steamy sex scene).

Good light, good angle (phwoar, look
at that arse!), time for Photoshop fiddling
until, satisfied and aching, you’re finished.

- This one is in its second proper redraft, and I'd welcome any more input people can give. I also think it's one of my faves from this year. We're getting some awesome prompts.


Find Your Way

She clutches the map
precious to her chest,
grateful that the soldier
had died at the entrance.

Waterways bar her path,
and the maze is stone;
square and unforgiving
and all biting corners.

She shivers in the damp.
Got to keep going, keep walking,
find the centre, find your way.
But the walls won’t let her leave.

Blood thrums loud in her ears
and damp clings to fingertips.

- Not as keen on this one, it needs a hell of a lot of work. Oh yes, it's also not finished. Meant to be some sort of like... story poem. Iunno. *shrug* Oh yes, it's based on the song Find Your Way from FFVIII, by Nobuo Uematsu. For fans of that, just think of Brothers' maze and you'll be there.

Boxers Left Behind

I bury my face in
your boxers. Old
cotton, soft from wear
and blue. Enough
scent lingers to conjure

memory; salt sweat
and cherries. Conversations
in your arms mix
Physics with language
and glorious word-

-play. I miss you,
when you’re not here.
Longing for Summer
days, languorous and
filled with you.

- I farking hate the last stanza. I'll be honest, I just wrote that one so I could hand something in that was finished. This one's a little personal, but hey. I need to work on distancing it a little more, I know that much.

------

Sakura (桜)

I drift pinkly,
petal-light.
Fleeting.
Do not weep
for me. Itte
kimasu.

Cherry

I am a drop
of blood, curling
into myself.
You tie my stem
in knots with
your tongue.

Itte kimasu - I’ll be back/I will return

- This last one is two poems that are meant to be sat next to each other - that is hard to do on the internet, so you'll have to have them one underneath the other, I'm afraid. My most recent adventure, I wrote this one tonight. Our prompt was to look at a fruit from two different points of view and work from there.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Thanks for the feedback Weasie! I can't help but overlooking the two 'damned' in one scentence? Could you tell me where they're located. Yeah, I like contradictions, even if it makes no sense. I just write gibberish- or random poems. Smiling, with not the slightest grin is something to ponder on.

Onto you WO:

I like the 'boxers' one a lot. I noticed that it's personal, but that's what makes it cool IMO. The center part is really awesome. It just seems - honest. Yeah.

The fandom-poem isn't really my style, so I won't voice an opinion on that.

And finally, the last two are pretty nifty according to me, especially Cherry. It just fits, all of it. Good job.

I should look into writing shorter poems. Gives you more things to think about. You inspired me.

Anyway, think I'll put another one up.

Morpheus with boobs

Each time the night closes her curtain, she knocks at my door.
Easily does she comfort me, placing my head on her lap.
She gently whispers truthfull cries, she reaches out and paints the room in her own color, until I tumble asleep.

I dream and throw around emotions from behind, I leave a trail, to mark the place, so that I never forget again.

Until the curtain falls, and morningglory's hand graps my neck, shocking me into reality.
And then, as daylight wins territory, I wish to fall back into my cave, that place where there is only thing I desire.
Oh I wish to hear those thoughtfull cries, all over again.

***

I wrote this when I was 16:

Just stay inside the cauliflower

They have no shame.
I do fear them.
Their eyes pierce my soul,
barb my eyes and sting my clear mind.
They come in great numbers.
Cannot hide, smell the foe.
Claws of sound, reach out.
They break my isolation,
do not fear, do not hear,
anything.

Nothing.

(Two cents if you guess what the subject of this poem is.)

Yeah, comments or feedback are/is always greatly appreciated.

[Gavin Luper]

Interesting. I think we were modding at almost the exact same time, Gabi. You moved the thread to the main forum and I merged it in with the poetry corner at the same time as you made your post. ^_^

Thorne_Darkrose: I'm going to have a stab and guess that the pokemon you're referring to is Scizor?

Weasel: I liked the "Fandom is Bliss" poem - I do have a fondness for your style of poetry, though; this one reminds me a lot of the format of a poem you put up a little while ago. I think it was "Can't". Anyway, this was nice and - ahem - steamy with all the good arses and 'his ruffled sex hair' - it got me just a tad worked up. ^_^ The phrasing was nice and jumbled, and it feels like it ought to be, as you get so passionate about something you feel so strongly about.

"Find Your Way" didn't touch me like the other poems did. It feels a bit soulless - and I don't mean that as an insult, just inasmuch as, the rest of your work is filled with tangible imagery and smells and believable streams of consciousness, and this lacks that. I think I prefer poems when they're more closely tied to personal experience or emotion.

"Boxers Left Behind" was sexy, grungy brillance, at least for the beginning. I agree that the last stanza is a bit weaker than the rest: to be honest, I felt like the poem might end with a hint at some kind of cruel or bitter parting - a reason for 'burying my face in your boxers'. Maybe that's what it's lacking - if not that exactly, then something else strong or biting in the final stanza. I have to say, the splitting of the word "wordplay" between stanzas two and three really jarred with me, and not in a way that worked. It just felt like it needed to be cleaned up so that stanza two keeps its final phrase, or at least its final word, separate from stanza three.

Just my criticisms, anyhow - I particularly liked poems 1 and 3, in any case. Feel free to ask for clarification on my comments if any of them came across as incoherent rambling.

Will try to make some decent comments on the other poems at some point soon, too!

[Thorne_Darkrose]

Yep ^_^ it was Scizor, my all time favorite pokemon. I will be adding more poetry at some point and time, just need to figure out what it is I wanna submit.

[Weasel Overlord]

Thanks for the feedback Weasie! I can't help but overlooking the two 'damned' in one sentence? Could you tell me where they're located. Yeah, I like contradictions, even if it makes no sense. I just write gibberish- or random poems. Smiling, with not the slightest grin is something to ponder on.

Yeah, I think I put the wrong word... *slaps head* It's probable that I meant "even", which is repeated twice in the same line:

"Even the damned deserve some love, even if it is a curse."

The Morpheus one is interesting, but I'm not keen on how long your lines are. I'm a fussy poet, lol, but if you try left-justifying it instead of centring, I think you'll see what I mean. A lot of those lines could be broken up to take a line of their own.

An example to show you what I mean; in your first line, you have a lovely opportunity for a good line break with "closes" and "knocks":

"Each time the night closes
her curtain, she knocks
at my door. Easily..."

If you try to break a line on a word that has some meaning, like with "closes", it makes a poem much tighter, and makes the words do that little bit of extra work. I find that it also helps me to weed out phrases that are ungainly, or just don't work properly.

A few last nit-picks; "truthful" and "thoughtful" both only have one 'l' at the end, "graps" is probably meant to be "grasps", and I'd break up "morning glory" into two words, or at least hyphenate it, if you want to keep the connection.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Again, thanks for the feedback.

The double 'even' is intended, but I should have split the scentence in two. More like:

Even the damned deserve some love,
even if it is a curse.

I can't really explain what I mean with two 'even's, but it just sounds in my head. Probably just a crazy thing, but I'll work on those shorter scentences.

Thanks for reading!

[mistysakura]

twitter

you won’t believe this. the magpie up there just texted me to announce that it’s taking a piss. how to tell it to dump its shit elsewhere in 140 characters or less?

[Gavin Luper]

twitter

you won’t believe this. the magpie up there just texted me to announce that it’s taking a piss. how to tell it to dump its shit elsewhere in 140 characters or less?

LOL

AWESOME. If that poem is exactly 140 characters, I applaud you. (And if not, it was a fun twist, merging poetry with the horrid social networking world, so I still applaud you.)

[classy_cat18]

Ada: O.o Wow. That's somewhat unlike you...in a good way.

[mistysakura]

LOL

AWESOME. If that poem is exactly 140 characters, I applaud you. (And if not, it was a fun twist, merging poetry with the horrid social networking world, so I still applaud you.)

It freaked me out, but completely by chance, including the word 'twitter', that poem is exactly 140 characters.

Shonta: Yeah, somewhat less... refined. I do do that style sometimes. Although at times I verge on being a wowser and being uber-aware of the effect of coarseness when many readers probably wouldn't even notice.

Thanks guys!

[Thorne_Darkrose]

Dance In The Angel’s Blood

Walking along in the garden called Eden
Humming a melancholy tune
Is a creature whose temper is even
And whose heart is as warm as the month of June

Falling from her post, be it punishment or no
Wings battered and scarred, but still whole
She has no where she can go
And in feeling betrayed, now has no goal

The garden begins to look as though something is wrong
Flowers wilting while the creatures die
Every place she goes dies after hearing her melancholy song
As she searches her thoughts and dreams asking why

She finds herself dying now, as a man stabs her in her heart
Finally her guilt washes over her like a flood
The man begins to walk away, but before he would part
He would celebrate, and dance in the angel’s blood

I wrote this a while back and am in the process of writing a short story based on it. Hope you guys like it.

[Metanoia]

(And nobody says): It's an interesting subject Rose! Do you mind if I call you Rose? I especially liked some of your imagery, like "wings battered and scarred, but still whole." The rhythm does feel a little odd in places, though, but I can't be sure; poetry's not really a talent of mine.

So I guess it's weird that this is where I'm posting first. Oh well! Have to reply to something somewhere. This is the text to accompany a strange little graphic novel of mine. It's a fairytale, kind of like the Grimm Brothers. I mildly liked it, which is something to say considering my other attempts at rhyme... I just wanted to see if it was worth continuing.

In Germany and some years past
A manor stood, all wood and glass
And flowers grew in gardens fair
The favorite of the lady there
Who lived alone, her husband dead
And kept his fortune in his stead
She tended flowers, all the same
And people knew her by that name

The Duchess of Marigolds

They knew her by her beauty too
Down in the town they thought it grew
From day to day, and year by year
But this thing was her secret fear
Were she to pause and gaze upon
A wrinkle, then her glamor gone
An instant past and then to see
The faces leering back with glee

She had a friend, a baroness
Who stood and feigned her interest
As the duchess made quite a show
Complaining vainly of her woe
"Is this my fate, to always age?
Is there no one I can engage,
To stall the loss, this is my plea
I am my beauty, my beauty me"

"Darling," the baroness, she said,
"Though you may fear what comes ahead
None can escape old Father Time
As birds do sing, and bells do chime
For as all women, you must wane
But that means not, your life in vain
In growing old there is one prize
For to be old is to be wise"

The duchess, though, was not convinced
Certainly now that and since
A blemish really had appeared
And there it stayed, remained adhered
At this, the baroness, she sighed
Lilac powder, the duchess tried
Only to fail, and no surprise
It made the poor old vain thing cry

"Time now, to drastic measures take
For my own life, for beauty's sake
Now I resolve to take dispute
This mortal lie, I shall refute"
For it was said, in town there lived
An alchemist who knew to give
Some potions of a potent sort
That age and even death could thwart