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seasun545


Member

Posted Tue Jan 15th, 2008 9:15am Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
What, who, where...

What are you doing there?
What is tying you up here?
Nobody is waiting for you,
so what is left to do?

What do you expect to happen tomorrow?
Who will be the one to soften your sorrow?
Is that you still believe in miracles?
Nobody told you there´s no fairy tales?

What are you waiting for?
Where is left to go?
What do you expect to find?
Still hoping there´s someone kind?

You poor pathetic girl,
Still something you believe in?
Don´t you see you became someone pitiful?
Will you find the strength to make something useful?

What are you thinking of?
More fantasies to build your world?
Don´t you realize that there´s no more?
That beauty is lost, that poetry is gone?

What are you expecting, you silly girl?
finding the cure for all this pain?
Still waiting for a miracle to come
and maybe the past will be suddenly gone?

Oh, you poor foolish girl,
when are your going to admit
that your moment has gone
that there´s nothing more?
When will you realize
this you´re just a fate´s practical joke
and the more you´re in this haze
the closer you are to leave without a trace?.

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masquerade


Member

Posted Tue Jan 15th, 2008 4:12pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Wow Seasun....... -hugs-

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Saturn


Member

Posted Tue Jan 15th, 2008 8:40pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Hawk

I'm a timid man, a tortoise in truth
And a flimsy shell is my only shield.
So many holes and so many hurts
Have cracked a delicate defence.

I'm unprotected, wholly exposed
To every shot comes my way.
No shade, no place to hide
This bare-naked distress.

I'm vulnerable; don't you see
How fast I melt when you look
That way at me? Can't you see
How bruises swell for company?

I'm not so weak, though I do
Bleed internally. Living with
This profuse hemorrhage:
That river never ends.

I'm not so quiet that I
Can't roar loud in passion
And cry out in my pain.
Don't underestimate me.

I am a timid man, yet no fool
My weaknesses are nothing
Compared to my resolve:
I'm a hunting hawk in love.

You think you can now go
East for the cold season
And leave the warm nest
And expect me to starve?

My instincts can fathom
When any rival is near.
I will tear at any flesh
That steps on my patch.
______________

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Saturn


Member

Posted Thu Jan 17th, 2008 7:04pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Yesterday's news.

I've tried to live in the current,
To follow the constant tide,
I've tried to live for tomorrow,
But the future to me lied.
So I'm forever yearning
For that forgotten promise,
The hope of my yesterdays.

I've tried to walk all alone,
A single footprint's impress
I've tried just to love myself
To repel from others less
But I'm forever yearning
For that forgotten promise,
The hope of my yesterdays.

I've tried to show my love,
To be a man of loving trust
I've tried to look for comfort,
But she left me in the dust.
Yet I'm forever yearning
For that forgotten promise,
The hope of my yesterdays.

Now I'm yesterday's news,
Crumpled and torn in two,
I'm dumped , and thrown
Away in careless haste.

All my contents absorbed,
I'm worthless, second hand
And damaged goods today,
Who will retrieve me now?
____________

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Cherubino


Member

Posted Sat Jan 19th, 2008 12:24am Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
For when I stepped back,
into the chasm,
blackness gurgled deep,
resonating past
thoughts, deeds and beings
within my very
soul.

'Not I,' cried the pain
of sweet memory,
'Never, I've never
heard of this mistress
with her sad, sweet song
of a listless love;
her short, silent shriek
with the cock at dawn;
her deep, violent thrusts
on the tempest's lawn.
If I've ever spoke
and mentioned her name,
pall'd over in lies
and ransomless shame
your shameless ears were;
If I've ever smiled
at thought of her face
or I've proudly laughed
at her silent jokes,
then I'll quote the girl
by her flowered bed
that, 'I was the more
deceived.'

And when I stepped back
out of the chasm
lightness swiftly bled,
and slowly it dripped
a deep, dark chasm
upon my very
soul.



I never thought that it would be this bleak
The days endlessly tripping on the next
The hours and the minutes being pushed
Infinately towards, what, a blackness?

I remember a solitary oak tree,
In a field surrounded by the traffic.
I'd climb that trunk of hope, which for me held
All that was good and eternal on earth.
At the top I could see other trunks, sparse
As they were, amid a copse of clay tiles.
Their glimmer in the morning sun, almost
Reminded me yellow linseed fields.
Yet their almost-beauty masked their darkness.
For beneath their shelter were bleak beings,
Far, far greyer in their collective hue
Than their dead parents and unborn offspring.
And beyond the horizon, this bleakness,
This infinite bleakness had multiplied
With its billions of infinite grey specks.
And without a tree branch to hold onto
I reeled to the ground with a bleak disgust,
My body sank deep in the muddy field
And my legs smashed onto the concrete path.
In agony I cursed the bleak beings
And doing so I cursed myself, I cursed...
I cursed the almost-greyest one of all.

So here I lie twenty-two, broken legs
And still I curse the bleak waves beneath which
I drown.



It never was depression,
You miserable git.
It was the light procession
That begged you to slit;
It was the darkness of pits,
The pale aggressions,
The squalid tower full with shits
Of dole confessions.
It was the death obsession
That caused you to knit
A quilt of black depression.
So can you permit
A world where everything fits
Where true expressions
Extols a joy in true wits
And stops regressions.
So I will ask a question
In hope you'll submit,
Is it a self oppression
That caused you to quit?



I don't care that you were beaten,
I don't care that you're alive,
I don't care if you're infertile
I just want your love to drive far away.

I don't care if it's forever,
I don't care if it's today,
I don't care that it's december
I just want your crap away from my life.

I don't care that I am dying,
I don't care that I'm a cunt,
I don't care if I'm forsaken
I just want you out the front of my door.

I don't care if we are worthless,
I don't care if we are bled,
I don't care that we are falling
I just want us to be dead.



They say there's nothing for her,
But Butterscotch and Flora
And though her mind is tripping
Like a five year old girl,
Her husband still is dipping,
It makes me want to hurl.
Is he not a paedophile,
Abusing the cherub's trust?
Should he not just shout, "Sieg Heil"?
Let the neighbours do what must?

Can she consent, while thinking no?
And if she does,
Can she tell Fucker, where to go?
She's laying back and feeling bliss,
Or, so the fucker thinks.
'Cause up she looks and blinks;
A sign her mind has gone amiss.

But still the fucker bangs away
And Butterscotch can't speak.
I think he raped her twice today.
That's brought him to a peak,
Upon a silent mountain top
Where all the fuckers sleep,
With unrefusing kids to pop,
Too comatose to peep.

His defence, you see, boys and girls,
A premise sweet in charm:
The girl he loves once loved him too,
So where does he cause harm?
By bringing back the days goneby
Of love that they once had,
And giving her a mortal sigh,
So, how can he be bad?

But this I say to him, to you,
That girl whom he gropes inside,
Is like a battered worn out shoe -
A lot easier to guide.
A lot like an inward tide,
As it gushes close to you,
Thoughts and fears it cannot hide,
For it's helpless through and through.
Ebbing forward untill it runs aground.
And just like the forward flowing tide,
Poor butterscotch is dying on the ground;
Unable to resist Fuckers chide,
Because Fucker fucks her while she is bound.

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Saturn


Member

Posted Sat Jan 19th, 2008 9:48pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Marie-Celeste

And I find myself floating,
Drifting without a prayer,
And no compass to guide
Me home to your heart.

For your heart is home,
Where I rightly belong,
And I cannot live rough,
Homeless in the world.

Did I not nest myself
With all my roughness
And my uncouth love
Into your warm hearth?

We were happy once;
For a time you seemed
Content to embrace me
And welcome my touch.

But now all unawares
I'm left with no harbour,
No safe port to land
My grief-stricken heart.

And will you no come
And pull me free, clear
From the drowning-fate:
I can no longer swim.

Have I not planted seeds
That grew to healthy trust?
Have I been less than kind?
Have I not earned that word?

Will you leave me foundering,
In this vast Charibydian waste?
Will you let me swallow whole
The bitterness of black despair?

I feel like a Marie Celeste,
Abandoned to listless float,
Empty, and a prey to every
Razor sharp coast I touch.
______________

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SidewalkProphet


Member

Posted Sun Feb 3rd, 2008 5:05pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
WHAT GOOD...

What good are these eyes, that look but don't see,
The world that is fighting and struggling to be?
What good are these ears that fall deaf at the cries.
Of children that hold too much grief in their eyes?

What good are these hands, that touch but don't feel,
The anguish beneath all the smiles that aren't real?
What good is this voice that never will ask,
The questions that will finally break open the mask?

What good is this heart that never can mend,
That expects new found heartache around every bend?
What good is this mind that thinks of the worst,
That's waiting, expecting their bubble to burst?

What good are these words, that cannot stop wars?
What good is this writer who hides behind doors?
What good is to give in and never to try?
What good lies within us just waiting to fly?

THE SECRET

Sudden movement
Sudden hands
Pulled and tumbled to the lands
Strange embrace
Strangers face
Breath unwanted
Fall from grace
Pain and torment
Eyes closed tight
Try to struggle
Try to fight
Ripping garments
Open shame
Anger burns a fervent flame
Falling tears
Growing fears
Screams of anguish
No one hears
Movement over
Body gone
Lying stillness
All is wrong
Stumbled homeward
Frightened lies
Hidden torture
Stifled cries
Endless guilt
Ever scared
Silent prisoner
Soul impaired
Always wary
Never free
Always there.
Always me.

THIS FOOLISH HEART

This foolish heart, that seeks your charms,
Would pray to God with upturned arms,
If afterwards your touch i'd feel,
Not dreamt, but warm and soft and real.

This foolish heart, that seeks your smile,
Would freely suffer toils and trials,
If at the end i'd feel it's light,
Shine down on me through day and night.

This foolish heart, that seeks your voice,
Would give away all will and choice,
If, in whispered tones of love,
You'd speak my name 'neath stars above.

This foolish heart, that seeks it's mate,
A thousand years would gladly wait,
To hold you near and never part,
And be the one who holds your heart

----------------------------------------------------------------

Apologies if I've posted any of these b4, i get lost as to what I've put here and what I haven't lol

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Saturn


Member

Posted Sun Feb 3rd, 2008 5:57pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Wonderful work Donna.

What good...

I love these lines particularly

What good are these ears that fall deaf at the cries.
Of children that hold too much grief in their eyes?


The Secret....

a terrifying poem, full of glimpses, moments of a terrifying encounter.

I sincerely hope that what I think that poem is about is merely artistic license.

And the last one, well that's right up my street, I've written many a similar poem myself with similar thoughts and sentiments.

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SidewalkProphet


Member

Posted Sun Feb 3rd, 2008 6:07pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Wonderful work Donna.

What good...

I love these lines particularly

What good are these ears that fall deaf at the cries.
Of children that hold too much grief in their eyes?


The Secret....

a terrifying poem, full of glimpses, moments of a terrifying encounter.

I sincerely hope that what I think that poem is about is merely artistic license.

And the last one, well that's right up my street, I've written many a similar poem myself with similar thoughts and sentiments.

Thanks Stephen, I feel theyre a bit childish compared to your words :-// I would like to say that poem is all artistic license but alas...... :'(

Alot of my poems are romance based... the eternal search for that other half to make me whole.....

xx

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Saturn


Member

Posted Sun Feb 3rd, 2008 9:39pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?


:hugs:

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SidewalkProphet


Member

Posted Mon Feb 4th, 2008 7:12am Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?


:hugs:

Thanks Stephen, it was a long time ago. I've managed to put it behind me.... just working on the other stuff now :/

xx

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SidewalkProphet


Member

Posted Tue Feb 5th, 2008 6:33pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
I wrote this on the 1 year anniversary of sept 11th....

We Will

One moment, one day.

Everything changed.

In twisted iron and scattered dust a thousand dreams unlived now lie
But from this brutal act of hate we will not let these dreamers die

We will not live this life in fear or let those fallen fall from thought
We will by gentle candles light pay tribute to those out of sight

We will be strong and with our friends we'll stand united hand in hand
We'll fight for all that's good and true and with our global brothers band

We will endure, our wounds will heal and we'll not sink in seas of hate
We will embrace those left behind, those who are always in our minds.

We will not lose the memory of broken hearts and flaming skies.
Though we'll in endless mourning be we will go on our heads held high.

We will remember every year with whispered prayer or fallen tear.
We will remember quiet and still.
We will survive.
We will.
We will.

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Saturn


Member

Posted Tue Feb 5th, 2008 9:11pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Wow

That could like the official anthem for this site!!!

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Saturn


Member

Posted Tue Feb 5th, 2008 9:13pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
Wow

That could be like the official anthem for this site!!!

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spiralthreads


Member

Posted Tue Feb 5th, 2008 10:29pm Post subject: Poetry - anyone here guilty of it?
We Will - the best poem I have read in years.

Help the Rage group raise £100,000 for Shelter by pledging £2 - here or donate direct here

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