does anyone still enjoy poetry?

The world is falling,
Falling into madness.

People hurt and kill each other
Just because they want to know
How that's like.

What is a poet's muse
But that which is one's own experience
In the world and wanderings?

What is there a man
To wonder
Or see?

When there is darkness
The lost say there is light.
And when the light is turned on
Like a bright beaming ray,
These flee into the shadows
Because it burns them.

Such are these days.
Such has the mind
Gravitated,
And descended,
Into madness.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go, before I sleep"

Thank...You... Now... /
I think...I found...
a crown /
someone can come..

claim it /

I don't want it /
so here you go /
come on out.. /
Were... waiting...

all around /

smoking joints /
and stuff
oh boy /
its /
been fun /

being /
paranoid /
now... i'm...scared /
I danced with /
your devil
I lance your steed /
pranicg /
around the /
astral

I hear the rain sing softly to the Earth
The melody as soothing as your hands on me

Even my nights shine, thinking of you...the things we do.

Dreaming my dreams ~ hopes and fears entangled in ecstasy!
I'm dreaming of you
The things we'll do.

Your Spirit cries to me...
Or ~ mine, to you?

From the Immortal Emily Dickinson:

My life closed twice before its close --
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third Event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive --
As those that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of Heaven
And all we need of Hell.


(From memory, her strange punctuation and capitalization might not be exactly as I've reproduced it here.)

And:

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go --

And from the 19th century's other strange, Immortal Emily (Bronte, that is):

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life--that in me has rest,
As I--undying Life--have power in thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The stedfast rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou were left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou--THOU art Being and Breath,
And what THOU art may never be destroyed.

ROTFLMAO

OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh man that was good ! ! ! ! !

I was gonna ask, has Andrew (Dice) come out with any new ones?

Hickory dickory dock . . . .

Business as usual? Business as usual? Business as usual?

It is much too unusual for Business as usual.

There is a seed growing. Some might think it is a germ.

That comes from fear.

It is a seed.

With a network of roots underneath the surface and penetrating everything.

It is the truth.

And it is much to Extraordinary for Business as usual.

As a wise man once said, "Hold but let go"

Because every myth known to man is playing itself out.

Alongside anything any human ever imagined.

All the good and all the bad. Is happening.

Coalescing into one big thing.

Until final realization.

The culmination of everything that ever happened and was ever imagined.

See you there.

the machine.
it is hungry.
it has been patient.
it has been quiet.
devouring in the background.
silently and steadily.
time is running out.
it is about to be exposed.
it no longer cares for discretion.
in fact.
it's job is to be revealed.
to show you.
to show you it all.
the sacrifices have been vast but hidden.
they now condense and are thrown in your face.
running up a conveyor belt going down a spiral.
we move but barely.
the machine has got us all.
encoded in the system.

I like your poetry, OP.

Wish I had some of mine handy. Here's the only one I can recall:

I will kill you with this pen.
Make no mistake; I'll have your blood for ink.
But on this page, I am God
And I can raise you up again.

LOVE Emily!!


IMO, she was a feminine female to the Nth degree....and so, SO accurate. (I judge her works AS a woman..."total disclosure!")

I have spent a happy/thundering hour looking at a book of old poetry I wrote. A DIARY, basically.

THANK YOU, OP.

THANK YOU.



Last Edited by SwampWitch on 05/04/2012 09:59 PM

The KEY is to recall
That the Machine matters not at all.

They can take your Days, and they will
by guillotine or Shill ~

they're STILL just pussified Cowards!
With a 'data-mining' thread for pay...til someone jacks they jaws and says HEY! YOU!

Yeah...YOU!

(have a good day)
LOL

thanks for all the sharing, compliments and inspiration!

i thought i would just give time for replies before i had my alibis

i live in a hall of mirrors
that flooded with the fog of war
the blasts made craters all around me

and then finally at my feet


i think i had my wings torn
when the pain made me start to hate


all of a sudden a thunderous crash
humility cashed the blast
but ego was stricken

now i don't care what is show

give me liberty

or

hot damn

We're gonna have a gangbang
My brother John and me.
We know a girl down the road who does it all for free.
We're gonna take her bra off
then take down her jeans.
Then we'll take her panties off
and fill her up with beans.
We're going to f*ck her actually,
but it doesn't rhyme.

walked in a world of despair
never even supposed to be there

Painn filled my being
to the point of blind seeing

Hid in the sands of time
with the same ole questions why

fear to be myself
walking in this hell

from the shadows where I roamed
Now in the darkness will I ever find home

Alive lucky to be
when death seemed more fitting for me

With one question left to ask
Who the fuck woke my ass................

Yes I do.

Baudelaire is my favorite.

there is peace when the blind see enough to tread where they should

superbadassed

i can't lash my lash
the tear propped my eyes opened

Continent

Why are you laughing Oh children of the land ?

Why are you laughing with glee ?

The blind have taken leed !

And you follow on such threadlike strings,
ignoring your mothers Rape.

OH GREAT ATLANTIS..your Resurrection is ignored .

OH small fools, what will your plunder reap ?

i tied my foot to the bed post

just so i wouldn't forget the morning after pill

now it's been a week

and i'm tied there still

ok , see if you can follow these ...


my mom trucked ice /
turtle ninja cream /
dollar twenty five /
soda machine /
high school /
locker room /
pizza /
virgin C Plus /
cups of /
ritalin
piece paper /
work boss /
paper bought /
more trees /
for /
decorations

met a girl /
stacey /
named her /
frog prince /
symboled /
purple /
very ape /
drum beat /
kissed me /
something /
hurt /
school /
wanted /
more /
but /
Jennys /
homework /
hurt my /
ego /
Wendy's /
Double /
stacked /
papers and /
trees /
for
decorations /


Yes I am getting at something (people work for paper but still use trees as decorations)

Lolol !

Bank Greece Fail Goat Cliff Back Push /

why oh why does the world laugh at mine misery
i was supposed to meet time at the club
so i could give my kitty a good rub
it's not funny
being the only one
stuck here
with the internets and i was too dumb to put the pills,
on the table next to me

so now i'm stuck
i think it's gestating in me
or maybe it's the paranoia

soon we'll see

it eat it's way out of me

Forgive me, Father
For I have sinned.
I entered your church
Where I broke wind.

I know what you're thinking,
It's not very smart.
But I'm proud of one thing:
It wasn't a shart.

I Am the Only Being Whose Doom

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
This changeful life has slipped away
As friendless after eighteen years
As lone as on my natal day

There have been times I cannot hide
There have been times when this was drear
When my sad soul forgot its pride
And longed for one to love me here

But those were in the early glow
Of feelings since subdued by care
And they have died so long ago
I hardly now believe they were

First melted off the hope of youth
Then Fancy's rainbow fast withdrew
And then experience told me truth
In mortal bosoms never grew

'Twas grief enough to think mankind
All hollow servile insincere -
But worse to trust to my own mind
And find the same corruption there


Emily Jane Brontë