Author Topic: The Poetry Thread  (Read 22800 times)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #270 on: June 20, 2015, 10:59:51 AM »
Now that my brain seems to be working again, here is a mushy poem I wrote today:

Brave Courageous And Bold

We, fearful to bravery and courage
banishment ourselves from delight
alone suffering in prisons of rage
until love swings its knife
and ventures into our sight
to free us into life.

Love arrives
and with its passions come ecstasies
old recollections of pleasure survives
past histories of pain so queer.
Yet if we are courageous and bold,
love eats away the chains of fear
from our hearts be told.

We are free from our timidity and dependence
In the blush of love’s brilliant light
we dare be brave in decadence.
And suddenly we see with clarity
that love requires all we are and more
and will be for eternity.
Yet it is only love's sentence
which causes us to be free.
There is nothing more frightful than ignorance in action.

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #271 on: July 11, 2015, 07:05:43 PM »
roses are red
my balls are blue
screw you and you
You evolutionists are spoiling our fun!

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #272 on: November 13, 2015, 10:08:07 AM »
Just finished a major rewrite on this Villanelle:

"Mutton"
Solomon Zorn


I'll no longer be a passive sheep
     For the shepherd leading us astray
Faithful like the flock of Father Creep

Followers who have the faith to leap
     Trust his guidance never to betray
I'll no longer be a passive sheep

Mother prays a little soul to keep
     As a carrot leads her lamb away
Chosen from the flock of Father Creep

Building on a hill that's tall and steep
     Room where hanging knives and cleavers sway
Destiny of all the passive sheep

Hunger craves the tender flesh to reap
     Bleating won't this bloody act forestay
Severed from the flock of Father Creep

Mutton is expensive, life is cheap
     Soon the butcher's blade will end the play
I'll no longer be a passive sheep
Faithful like the flock of Father Creep



Do you guys think "Father Creep" is better than what I had before (Miss Bo Peep)?
« Last Edit: December 04, 2015, 05:27:31 AM by Solomon Zorn »
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Offline Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #273 on: November 14, 2015, 01:08:28 PM »
Pour le sud de la Hollande
un petit hommage flamande
sur la tragedié sous Hollande.


Le Bataclan


Vous étiez déjà bruyant.
Concerts. Soirées. Spectacles.
Bruyant. Tout. Toujours.

Vous étiez déjà rouge.
Chaises. Murs. Rideau.
Rouge. Tout. Toujours.

Vous étiez déjà coûts inoubliables.
Café. Infirmerie. Cinéma.
Coûts inoubliables. Tout. Toujours.

Et maintenant... Du vendredi le treizième.
Après un moment bruyant.

Vous êtes silencieux.
Mais le monde est pas.

Vous êtes rouge.
Mais les victimes encore plus.

Et nous ne vous oublierons jamais.




« Last Edit: November 16, 2015, 01:20:38 PM by Mr.Obvious »
E = Mc²

In the end, we are all standing in the dark,
trying to figure out why we are here.
But let us not choose one direction
without proof of where it is headed.

Check your pocket for matches
so we can observe and learn together
as fast friends and relative idiots.

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #274 on: December 03, 2015, 04:12:01 PM »
Peanut Butter And Jelly, By Brian37(AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @Brianrrs37 on twitter)

 

Please understand

I do agree

That with the East

There is a PR problem

 

Saudi Arabia and Iran

Are not exactly bastions

Of political or religious

Freedom

 

And they too

Are willing take up arms

Willing do die

For what they believe

 

I find it hard

While pointing

In the right direction

A mirror you lack

 

I guess it is ok

If in killing the other

It is done in the name

Of the right book

 

Even locally

You fear change

Willing to kill

To protect a gun

 

As if it were living

Just like Isis

Murders over criticism

Of their prized possession

 

As if a gun

Were an unborn child

As if it were Mohammed

Or even Jesus

 

This is no sandwich

To be admired

Worship of old books

Or tools of death

 

Dont talk about peace

And be willing to kill

Over old books or objects

Vile peanut butter and jelly

 (end)

This poem was originally posted at my host website graciously hosted by Brian Sapient's Rational Responders, post #781 here http://www.rationalresponders.com/forum/31771?page=15
"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers." Obama
Poetry By Brian37 Like my poetry on Facebook Under BrianJames Rational Poet and also at twitter under Brianrrs37

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #275 on: February 18, 2016, 06:04:06 AM »
Did another rewrite, to change the meter on this one. I think it reads more smoothly now.


"The Beginning of Wisdom"
Solomon Zorn

Wisdom starts when you first own,
The true unknowns, as true unknowns.

When reason greets you at the gate,
You venture to investigate.

A modern thinker will progress,
Although it seems like such a mess,
Discerning fact, from raw opinion,
Peeling layers like an onion.

Learning everything you can,
You study, till you understand,
There's always more you want to know,
Though now your head is all aglow,
With just a little bit of knowledge,
All those things you learned in college.

Always keep an open mind,
Consider both sides, and you'll find,
You soon may change your point of view,
Encountering a thinker, who
Will contradict your dearest notion,
Separate it from emotion,
See if it withstands the hit,
Or demonstrates what doesn't fit.

Your own ideas must compete,
To show your basis is concrete.
Then once you have a strong foundation,
You may lend illumination,
To a part of the discussion,
When you draw a sound conclusion.
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Offline Shiranu

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #276 on: June 20, 2016, 10:28:43 PM »
On an island long lost to man stands a doorway, long since used has it's once intricate carvings, once marvelled upon, now remain worn by aeons of salty mist and piercing winds laying bear. Only gray, cold, lifeless stone stands now upon those bitter shores.

Were one to lightly run their fingers across, perhaps yet it's former beauty could be found; a knick where carved a mural of flowers and their mistresses once adormed, or the tinniest shards and flecks of sapphire, ruby and obsidian depicting calmer seas, setting suns and embracing nights could still be felt. Only the cold, lifeless hands of time will touch the door which stands now upon those bitter shores.

It is unclear who built this relic of lives long past, or of what splendor and wealth laid beyond the adorned portal. For long ago the door will sealed tight, it's walls crumbled and those who built it set sail, leaving only this skeletal remain of the lifeless door which stands upon those hateful, bitter shores.
"No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin or his background or his religion..." - Nelson Mandela

"Too much sanity may be madness and the maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be." - Miguel de Cervantes

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #277 on: July 14, 2016, 06:35:03 PM »
"If It Sounds Too Good" By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet On Facebook and @Brianrrs37 on twitter)

 
The soothsayers
And Seers
Oracles
And prophets
 
Psychics
And Ouija boards
Homeopathy
Don't doubt them
 
Of holy men, old writings
Blindly beleive them
Don't ever dare
To even question
 
They are the fine print
In any contract
There to serve you
Payday loan or cell phone
 
They are the woman
Sawed in half
PT Barnum
Has the last laugh
 
You'd have me believe
The claims of antiquity
Don't thrive on the same marketing
Of infomercial TV
 
Deities remove stains
Get your carpet clean
Read the fine print
Before you subscribe to Dish
 
Oxi clean
In omni fashion
Get's the mouse on the wheel
To chase utopia cheese
 
Reverse mortgage
Is what religion is
Henry Winkler
Is a scam
 
You still own
Your brain
Until the bookmaker
Demands you pay
 
Racketeering
Is all the same
Be it old
Or oxy clean
 
If it sounds too good to be true
It probably is
And that is why
All gods are dead
(end)

Original host thread here post #844 hosted here http://www.rationalresponders.com/forum/31771?page=16
 
"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers." Obama
Poetry By Brian37 Like my poetry on Facebook Under BrianJames Rational Poet and also at twitter under Brianrrs37

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #278 on: July 15, 2016, 12:31:51 PM »
On an island long lost to man stands a doorway, long since used has it's once intricate carvings, once marvelled upon, now remain worn by aeons of salty mist and piercing winds laying bear. Only gray, cold, lifeless stone stands now upon those bitter shores.

Were one to lightly run their fingers across, perhaps yet it's former beauty could be found; a knick where carved a mural of flowers and their mistresses once adormed, or the tinniest shards and flecks of sapphire, ruby and obsidian depicting calmer seas, setting suns and embracing nights could still be felt. Only the cold, lifeless hands of time will touch the door which stands now upon those bitter shores.

It is unclear who built this relic of lives long past, or of what splendor and wealth laid beyond the adorned portal. For long ago the door will sealed tight, it's walls crumbled and those who built it set sail, leaving only this skeletal remain of the lifeless door which stands upon those hateful, bitter shores.
Not quite sure what you are talking about, specifically, as is the case so often with(bad?) poetry. But I get the emotion of the imagery, and that may be the essence of good free verse.

That being said, I HATE FREE VERSE.

From you and Brian both, I would so much like to read a real poem. You both have an eloquence of speech, all you lack are formal challenges to that eloquence. In other words, a structure. Something to touch my sense of beauty, even as I may read about something ugly. Use some repetition, like a rhyme scheme, or a strict meter, or maybe a refrain, or all of the above. There are so many ways of doing it, that you shouldn't feel constricted. You both have the poetic heart for it, all you have to do is struggle with the construction a little, and I think you could write poetry.

Free verse is for teenagers, who believe that their every thought is so profound, that it qualifies as a poem.
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #279 on: July 15, 2016, 12:39:15 PM »
"If It Sounds Too Good" By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet On Facebook and @Brianrrs37 on twitter)

 
The soothsayers
And Seers
Oracles
And prophets
 
Psychics
And Ouija boards
Homeopathy
Don't doubt them
 
Of holy men, old writings
Blindly beleive them
Don't ever dare
To even question
 
They are the fine print
In any contract
There to serve you
Payday loan or cell phone
 
They are the woman
Sawed in half
PT Barnum
Has the last laugh
 
You'd have me believe
The claims of antiquity
Don't thrive on the same marketing
Of infomercial TV
 
Deities remove stains
Get your carpet clean
Read the fine print
Before you subscribe to Dish
 
Oxi clean
In omni fashion
Get's the mouse on the wheel
To chase utopia cheese
 
Reverse mortgage
Is what religion is
Henry Winkler
Is a scam
 
You still own
Your brain
Until the bookmaker
Demands you pay
 
Racketeering
Is all the same
Be it old
Or oxy clean
 
If it sounds too good to be true
It probably is
And that is why
All gods are dead
(end)

Original host thread here post #844 hosted here http://www.rationalresponders.com/forum/31771?page=16
 
I love the imagery, Brian.
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #280 on: August 09, 2016, 05:50:46 AM »
The Farther Shore

The sun is slowly rising away in the Eastern sky
To the West the dark horizon fades away to slowly die
The shadows of the morning are long upon the land
the wise and ancient mountains in silhouette silence stand

Awestruck by the beauty begun with coming day
and awestruck by the diamond night now lit and gone away
To lose myself in silence in the endless depth of sky
And sleepless lay forever lost in endless flight

I have been a sailor who voyaged on the sea
I saw the lights of distant shores that beckoned, called to me
I see the lights of midnight skies wherever I may roam
and wonder about those sailors who call those stars their home

Unknown distant voyager- on a light ship do you sail?
Is there someone breathless waiting, afraid your quest might fail?
You cross the endless darkness to another shore to see
And in your quest a voyager no different than me

So ever beckoning the stars like distant beacon lights
bonfires on a distant beach to guide their way at night
And someone there awaiting for you to return once more?
So go then, sailor, travel- to that distant farther shore.
 
« Last Edit: August 09, 2016, 05:54:04 AM by stromboli »

Offline Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #281 on: August 16, 2016, 05:52:07 AM »
To love is to lie


I shall strangle my words and my thoughts
when salt is born from your grief.
For what kind of world can be bought
when it offers no relief?

Tongue crushed between red, wet teeth,
like the hydra that lost it's horrid head;
spawning more bloody lies beneath
the omisions of what cannot be said.

I'll keep my silence; let your ache go.
She is in heaven, amidst the whitest clouds.
I won't take this from you and won't say no.
I'll betray myself before I voice my doubts.


My girlfriend's grandmother passed away and she's having a real hard time with it. She wants to believe she's somewhere out there, enjoying the afterlife and has been asking me for confirmation. I've responded in broad, vague terms; not denying anything but not really confirming her ideas. I dislike it, and it may not be right. But I can't break her heart and flat out tell her I don't thinkher grandmother is anything else than a treasured memory at this point.
Though I was kind of shocked to find out that she seems to think I believe there is something more than this life. In the past, I've told her multiple times I don't believe in God, heaven, hell, karma, reincarnation, ... She seems to have blocked it out... I dunno.
« Last Edit: August 16, 2016, 08:14:14 AM by Mr.Obvious »
E = Mc²

In the end, we are all standing in the dark,
trying to figure out why we are here.
But let us not choose one direction
without proof of where it is headed.

Check your pocket for matches
so we can observe and learn together
as fast friends and relative idiots.

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #282 on: August 26, 2016, 01:29:52 PM »
The Farther Shore

The sun is slowly rising away in the Eastern sky
To the West the dark horizon fades away to slowly die
The shadows of the morning are long upon the land
the wise and ancient mountains in silhouette silence stand

Awestruck by the beauty begun with coming day
and awestruck by the diamond night now lit and gone away
To lose myself in silence in the endless depth of sky
And sleepless lay forever lost in endless flight

I have been a sailor who voyaged on the sea
I saw the lights of distant shores that beckoned, called to me
I see the lights of midnight skies wherever I may roam
and wonder about those sailors who call those stars their home

Unknown distant voyager- on a light ship do you sail?
Is there someone breathless waiting, afraid your quest might fail?
You cross the endless darkness to another shore to see
And in your quest a voyager no different than me

So ever beckoning the stars like distant beacon lights
bonfires on a distant beach to guide their way at night
And someone there awaiting for you to return once more?
So go then, sailor, travel- to that distant farther shore.
 
Captivating. Great imagery.
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #283 on: August 26, 2016, 01:35:37 PM »
To love is to lie


I shall strangle my words and my thoughts
when salt is born from your grief.
For what kind of world can be bought
when it offers no relief?

Tongue crushed between red, wet teeth,
like the hydra that lost it's horrid head;
spawning more bloody lies beneath
the omisions of what cannot be said.

I'll keep my silence; let your ache go.
She is in heaven, amidst the whitest clouds.
I won't take this from you and won't say no.
I'll betray myself before I voice my doubts.


My girlfriend's grandmother passed away and she's having a real hard time with it. She wants to believe she's somewhere out there, enjoying the afterlife and has been asking me for confirmation. I've responded in broad, vague terms; not denying anything but not really confirming her ideas. I dislike it, and it may not be right. But I can't break her heart and flat out tell her I don't thinkher grandmother is anything else than a treasured memory at this point.
Though I was kind of shocked to find out that she seems to think I believe there is something more than this life. In the past, I've told her multiple times I don't believe in God, heaven, hell, karma, reincarnation, ... She seems to have blocked it out... I dunno.
Good poem, Mr. O.

I know how you feel. It's a very delicate thing, and you can't really stick to your guns about your beliefs. You'd feel like an ass. Love is more important than ideals sometimes.
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com

Offline Solomon Zorn (OP)

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #284 on: September 23, 2016, 01:31:05 AM »
I rewrote this one about a week ago. I like the ending better now.

“Children of a Star”
Solomon Zorn


Black dominates

The vast
And empty distances
So barren dead and dark
That span
The lonely instances
Of silent glowing stars

Light penetrates

Where something
In the nothingness
Defies the endless night
A massive
Sphere has coalesced
Into a source of light

Sun radiates

From elemental
Furnace
Lying deep within the core
That's shining
On the surface
Through the darkness it abhors

Glow saturates

The Earth
In endless energy
Till molecules emerge
Constructed
With complexity
Conditions all converge

Life proliferates

An intricate
Diversity
That's thriving near and far
Ascends
From cosmic ancestry
As children of a star



I also rewrote the 3rd, 4th and 5th stanzas of this one:

"A Human Sky"
Solomon Zorn


Background hue for puffy masses
Painted with a vapor palette
On a canvas made of gasses
High above our verdant planet

We look

Witness heavenly deception
Hiding realms beyond our vision
Color filters our perception
Here below the blue illusion

We wait

Sunset watchers wax emotive
Over fading radiation
Cloudless night in clear perspective
Darkness holds illumination

We see

As the haze is disappearing
Gazing deep into the distance
Eyes enhanced by engineering
Scan the sky with fixed persistence

We learn

Implementing innovations
Meant to move our limits forward
Breaks the bonds of gravitation
Thrusting fragile bodies upward

We reach

Rocket riders feeling fearless
Blasting through the azure ceiling
To an altitude that's weightless
Make the sky a human dwelling

We grasp


« Last Edit: September 23, 2016, 01:33:37 AM by Solomon Zorn »
If God Exists, Why Does He Pretend Not to Exist?
Poetry and Proverbs of the Uneducated Hick

http://www.solomonzorn.com