Poems

[Apollyon]

Good work Cybo. :)

The rhymes are actually really uncontrived and work well.

[snc4113]

Here's my latest cuz I know everyone has missed my work.

Complicated

Thought it was over,

Saw the light.

Now I'm spinning,

Full of fright.

One, two, three, four.

The numbers getting too large.

I'm too confused,

Need a break.

One doesn't know,

Two is taken.

Three keeps me turning,

Four pushes away.

Which will turn straight,

The right path.

I'm lost in mind,

Can't decide.

Letting go,

Release all holds.

Need to be on my own,

To find a way.

[nampigai]

this isn't my own, it's a song by Kashmir called Lampshade, in my opinion one of the best lyrics ever written.

you'd be surprised if you looked through the eyes of a nova

not recognizing the molehills on top of the star

cheerful and swollen he waves from his seat in a rover

that is his car

you wouldn't doubt him to shake the most powerful hands of importance

changing the world as we know it by leaving his ink

to judge from the fence 'round his house he must love all his children

that's what you think

but there's no time to think

have a pill and a shrink

just don't show us how you sweat

making love to your kids

is the last love that you will ever get

you're a vanishing image of what I thought I knew

but it comes to show

that the man I know -

is kissing that cheek that she had lifted up for her forty first birthday

love is when someone you trust cuts a smile in your face

boy had a dog and poor girl had a stroke like an earthquake

now dog is a bird

but there's no time to think

have a pill and a shrink

just don't show us how you sweat

making love to your kids

is the last love that you will ever get

you're a vanishing image of what i thought I knew

but it comes to show

that the man I know

has a fading glow

in a whide lampshade

tell me lamshade the truth did you cover his soul

did you protect all the horrible

I shall tear you apart so that everyone knows

what he's been carrying around

tell me lampshade what is it you're trying to hide

under your stinky old corduroy

I shall rip and be shattered by the shrapnell of light

that I've been choking on always

there's a dog barking close within the range of my ear

sounds like he wants to escape the chain

he would probably bite me to death if he could

but the chain lets me spit in his face

like the dog has a chain clinging tight to it's neck

this man is tied to his sacrecy

I would like to have killed him off in this last verse

but instead I removed his lampshade

[Apollyon]

Nice work, Staci, and interesting lyrics Nammywhammy. :P

They are definitely good lyrics, but poetry is still far better written in 90% of cases. Of course, poetry doesn't have to adhere to certain rules that music does, and vice-versa.

Here's one of mine:

On the Epillion she gave to me.

She smiled -- nervous, eye flash flitter,

jitters on her spine -- she curled

and twisted lips to fasten words:

I read it but a life ago.

The words read vast, untamed.

I give it thee in sign

of love, or whatever you so please.

Her hair was violet as the deepest shade

of shirt, rigidly flowing unbridled

as a bladed crown upturned.

Eyes sparkled -- really sparkled --

cut deep with gem veins -- I could see stars.

Emeralds -- that's what they were,

seen through a haze like puddled water,

every glance I cast that way, a pebble

sending richochets of blushes from her pools

to threatened cheeks.

I took the tome -- fastened shut like words on thought,

thoughts on page, mind fore-set,

its glossy black but a picture to the soul,

like eyes or gems

or limpid pools.

My memory was want of her,

for they say that absence makes discomfort more.

Guided by candle I shook up thought

and opened her epillion.

Something echoed in my eyes

like flickering of fires --

flicking tails of animals:

Night-mares, black and bounty-

filled, they tossed manes and shook up minds.

Inkblots on eyes for lack of light,

breathing like Atlas with that weight,

my fore-locks shook, eyes half-closed

like a pensive sneeze

and that which the light cast, leered.

The book was closed.

[Cybopache]

Woaw you write really good appy,so do you too snc,I hardly dear to post this one :- and napi I agree with you Kashmir write exellent lyrics and music too.

SQUARE ONE Manna Dessi

Why do you hate me?

When you should have loved me

Why do you beat me?

When you should have caress me

Why do you push me away?

When you should have hold me tight

Why do you tramp me down?

When you should have lifted me up

Time keep searching for

Another alternative

Always looking for the easy way out

Always looking for the easy way out

History will repeat it self

History will repeat it self

Same old story

Back to square one

Time keep searching for

Another alternative

Always looking for the easy way out

Always looking for the easy way out

History will repeat it self

History will repeat it self

Same old story

Back to square one

Why do you push me away

When you should have hold me tight

Why do you tramp me down

When you should have lifted me up

Why do you hate me

When you should have loved me

Why do you beat me

When you should have caress me

[snc4113]

I honestly have no idea where this poem idea came from, i was just that bored, so..

The End

The phone rings,

She cries.

Can

[nemafakei]

snc, pardon me, but why are your poems on virtually the same theme?

[TMA_1]

lol yeah, I mean I am no expert at poetry, but sheesh if these are about your life then I hope things get better.

also you might want to expand a bit outside of the short-metered quatrain. I mean they pretty decent, but just a suggestion.

[Apollyon]

Btween the ocean and the firth

Imagine an orb,

glowing, caked with sooty grime,

hardened in an abstract kiln

and cracked with droughted line.

Gold would pierce that broken surface,

in the form of dazzling spears,

striking earth whose em'rald stalks rebel -- nervous --

from the flame that light endears.

That very vision

filled my mind

below the ancient oak,

whose tow'ring image

was intertwined

by many-a brazen spoke.

The hushing sky,

the absolute stage,

applauded like the sea,

as the falling arc

of failing sun

faded through the tree.

And I realised then,

as all the world

lay dying,

that just as light and life

were intertwined,

like the tree with

golden arrows,

so too was life and death,

the setting and rebirth.

Moisture oft sets out on earth

between the ocean and the firth

to populate destruction.

For from the ashes,

in a heartbeat and with a flicker of Earth's own lashes,

a tree shall rise once more.

[snc4113]

Okay, to those of you who are complaining about my poetry, yes i do write mainly on the same theme, but that's cuz i'm a girl and that's mostly what goes through my mind, but just for you, i wrote a poem that doesn't have to do with my normal theme.

Politics

The lies they tell,

No one understands.

Everything alike,

Clones one and all.

No questions are asked,

What's done is done.

Can't give a little,

Only the ornery survive.

Hate it all,

Can't get along.

Fight for what's right,

Not pride.

[Cybopache]

got something like an career ther Appy!

and snc you can write diffrent if you are willing to I can see ,good one.

                WEIRD NAMES      manna dessi

ROBBIE THE ROBOT SOLD SONGSHEETS IN WOOLWORTHS

PICETT-LINE PRISCILLA CALCULATED TO WRITE

JOHNNY THE BOSEMAN WAS STEALING SOME DIRT SHIRTS

DEBBY TOE LINKMAN IS THE BEST TO SNIPE

JO JO MAN IS DEALING IN SOME WEIRD TRANSACTION

DINKEL DANKY ROSIE LOOKING FOR SOME FUN

HANKY PANKY DICKIE CAN` T WIN HIS ELACTION

HEAVY SPACY NOEL HEADING FOR THE SUN

WEIRD NAMES IS A FUNNY LITTLE THING

WEIRD NAMES CAN MEAN DIFFERENT THINGS

WEIRD NAMES WE CAN SUDDENTLY HAVE ONE

WEIRD NAMES THEY CAN SOON BE GONE

TOOTSIE WOOTSIE DANA IS EATING SOME DOGSHIT

HADGY WEDGY NICOL IS DRIVING YOU MAD

EARLY WIRLY STEVEN CAN`T MAKE HIS HEAD FIT

FOXY LADY JANET SHE CAN MAKE YOU SAD

TRASHY SMASHY GEORGE TRY TO BREAKE A LITTLE RUB BALL

LITTLE COOL BEN HE JUST GIVE A DAMM

SNIFFING SNEEZY DAGGERT WAITING FOR THE SNOWFALL

PORKY JORKY BIG MAN SMELLING AS SMOKED HAM

WEIRD NAMES IS A FUNNY LITTLE THING

WEIRD NAMES CAN MEAN DIFFERENT THINGS

WEIRD NAMES WE CAN SUDDENTLY HAVE ONE

WEIRD NAMES THEY CAN SOON BE GONE

Cybo

[Jack Leaf]

Scytale, I liked your "Soldier" poem a lot. I have always liked battle-themed poems, and even more if they hold even some kind of anti-war statement. Well duh.

Snc4113 "Complicated". I felt a bit lost while reading it, but I enjoyed it a lot anyway. :P

Okay, so I'll post two poems.

"Dreams made of soap"

Dude, I have no idea where I got this idea, but after I got it I wanted to do a bizarre poem about it. I like it, but I'm not sure about the ending, it's just too... clich

[snc4113]

I was feeling quite vexed, so this is what came outa it:

Get rid of all,

Those that hurt the world.

Destroy all,

That force beauty and happiness away.

Get rid of the liars,

Cheaters,

Murderers,

Sadists,

And politicians.

The rapists,

Leaders,

Scientists,

And worriers.

But, if we were to follow through,

On this demented plan,

Nothing would survive,

Not even unborn babes,

For they are messed up and screwed over from conception.

[Cybopache]

here is one with many questions  ::)

WONDERINGS  manna dessi

Why is life and death?

Boys and girls, Love and hate

So hard to understand

Why is right and wrong?

Up`s and down

[Apollyon]

I liked that, Cybo, and "In and out

So hard to demand" made me chuckle. :)

Mekanika

This merry absentee,

this poor beggar's

benign-at-best replacement

has left me dry.

Run your fingers through mechanical ridges as

oil greases itself up to run in rivulettes

along the rot. My tyrannical

mind-loop is trapped forever to churn in a

world of cogs where

the pinions, the plugboards, the

sprockets and aerials all thrash without empathy,

desperately attempting dust-relief,

like rainfall in the Gobi.

[Cybopache]

Hehe well it can be hard you know. Like the Mekanika,remind me when I helped my friend to get his motorcycle work shop up and going.Hehe I was the chief for the two strokes,

"the pinions, the plugboards, the

sprockets and aerials all thrash without empathy", lol good old days man with two strokes oil vaporising from the whole body,god dammed that was times man.

Here comes one of my old ones

The ballad of J.R.T    manna dessi

Johnny saw her riding on a streetcombatbike

With takeoff on one wheel

She could see him coming in hundred like a liar

Well it meant a great grate deal

Rosa had a lover on the shady side of light

it was a secret with a mark of Johnny

[snc4113]

New and improved work by me. Tell me what you think.

Don

[Apollyon]

snc, I still persist in my thinking you ought to maybe look into real metre, but maybe that's just me. :P

This one is not by me, but it's pretty good, at least in my opinion:

Through All That Sounds Scream

Through all that sounds scream:

I will become a Berserk.

I will howl jerked dry-heave and heresy,

a history of yesterday be the day before hysteria

was born animate of your frothy foaming nymphs,

your opiate sucking Mary May harlots, your hustlers

of a lesser Procurer. Gloom as you present it.

  And

    Yes,

I do have flowers cast in expelled placentas-

in her vulgar myths and thighs, an aged wine.

Yet, in her allied vasectomies where ovaries sleep,

I will build her an autocrat of condominiums:

  Where you,

man of perversions, of royalty,

of yacht clubs, of hard handshakes and soft cotton,

have sentenced me to catching testament-

all 4 armies of a corpulent hoghead mega-state.

I will become insurgency.

  And

    Yes,

I have seen walls in this Belly narrate,

punctuate, that of which I do not inquire-

your slop-swayed appeasement.

  Yes!

    Indeed,

this is the work of a Senator

of a Statesman

of a Holy Joe

of a Bloated Doom,

a Destroyer.

I will reckon us as martini Paramours,

whiskey Sours, all bloodless and fixed-

a memorial composed of cicada casings.

Steadfast we strap ourselves to sham,

to scandal, to sexuality, to sedative,

to the ranting fingers of an avid solar flare

teasing strands of her serpentine hair.

  Yes!

    Indeed,

this is the work of a Temptress

of a Femme Fatale

of a Miss Jag

of a Starved Venus,

a Creator.

  Yet,

Through all that sounds scream:

I will remain guts and gas.

[Dunenewt]

On behalf of Twinkie, as the other thread wont last much longer

My new poem, " I ran like a motha" by Twinkie

and i ran

i ran so far away

i just ran

i ran all night and day

couldn't get away

(guitar solo thingy)

and i ran

i ran so far away

i just ran

i ran all night and day

couldn't get away

and i ran

i ran so far away

i just ran

i ran all night and day

couldn't get away

[Kiyouta]

I can't believe you posted Twinkle's and not mine - he's ripped it from some 80s song I remember listening to when playing GTA: Vice City. Remember: "And I ran... I ran so far away" - the tune!!! REMEMBER THE TUNE!!!

[Khan]

It's a song by Flock of Seagulls:

http://www.oz.net/~davester/AFOS/Lyrics/IRan.html

But apparently it's also been done by bowling for soup:

http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/I-Ran-So-Far-Away-lyrics-Bowling-for-Soup/C211DA5496157A7E48256D9200058937

Scroll down to the bottom.

[Cybopache]

hehe anyone get something out of this?

MELD Manna Dessi

The subtonic

Of sutopia

Is subtotal

To subtraction

When subduction

Is subdued

To subural

In subito

Of subrogation

To subsist

Decentralize

deception

Dechristianize

decern

Decimate

decision

Declassify

Declension

Decline

decommission

cybo

[Jack Leaf]

Such subpoetry deformation.  :P

Nah, but despite that's it's almost all just playing with words it sounds good...

[Apollyon]

Very nice punning, Cybo. :)

[Dante]

I was just reminded of a poem that I first heard read on a stage some time ago as background to a very good dance. It's certainly not mine, but I liked it so much that I thought I'd post it. It's here now because the last two poems reminded me of it. Please note that there are no mistakes in the poem. All the repetitions and grammer in there is exactly correct.

Gertrude Stein, "If I Told Him: A Completed Portrait of Picasso" (first published in Vanity Fair in 1924)