Author Topic: The Poetry Thread  (Read 46305 times)

Offline Baruch

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #315 on: November 20, 2017, 06:44:48 AM »
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The Undertow
Your tranquil waters offer no more solace,
 as I can’t help but ponder and wonder
 at this river of blood beneath the callus
 of where your heart was ripped asunder.
 I can’t fathom the leagues it must stretch
 and clad in darkness the fathoms below.
 Here I stand on the silver shore’s edge;
 captivated by the pull of your undertow.

You and I were carved from selfsame flesh
 so I feel  your muscles and know your bones.
 My body calls out to yours begging to thresh
 for I’m sure you can swim coated in stones.
 That kicking and thrashing I know you can.
 Struggle, I no longer wish to see you tranquil.
 Swim, you wonderful bastard, you fine man.
 Don’t you dare let those waters turn still.


My brother, a calm and quiet man, is getting a divorce. Told me last night. I feel powerless to do anything worthwhile. I'm going to try and be there for him as much as I can. But I don't know where to start.

You are still engaged, setting up a house as prenup?  Never been married before?

Yeah, the quiet ones ... the dangerous ones (I hope not).
שלום

Online Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #316 on: November 20, 2017, 06:58:26 AM »
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You are still engaged, setting up a house as prenup?  Never been married before?

Yeah, the quiet ones ... the dangerous ones (I hope not).

Not engaged, but yes, we're renovating a house. Almost ready to move in. Two more months, I think, tops. Never married.

I don't think my brother is dangerous in any way... I just know he's suffering, though he doesn't want or know how to talk about it.
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.


Offline Baruch

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #317 on: November 20, 2017, 06:45:16 PM »
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Not engaged, but yes, we're renovating a house. Almost ready to move in. Two more months, I think, tops. Never married.

I don't think my brother is dangerous in any way... I just know he's suffering, though he doesn't want or know how to talk about it.

This is why women are necessary.  They can do the talking for both sides of the couple ;-)
שלום

Online Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #318 on: March 23, 2018, 12:25:59 PM »
Feed
Bare bone torn from the hands that beseech;
their skin ripped by the bloody mouth of the leech.
They are but pounds of flesh, red and raw meat,
a feast offered to the obese beast to feed it’s greed.

It’s flesh is weak and temptation runs within;
pumping through its veins like the original sin
whispering in its ears its self-centred narration
so it might save itself from its own salvation.

Continue to dine on the body of fellow man:
a meagre carcass provides like no god can.
For out there lie no heavens, except in the lies
of how humanity is born, lives and never dies.

Yet when the last one sits on a throne o’ bones,
hungering for more than everything that it owns;
shall it finally learn it can never grow whole?
For feasts of flesh and blood empty the soul.
« Last Edit: March 23, 2018, 12:49:22 PM by Mr.Obvious »
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.


Offline Cavebear

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #319 on: March 23, 2018, 03:54:48 PM »
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Feed
Bare bone torn from the hands that beseech;
their skin ripped by the bloody mouth of the leech.
They are but pounds of flesh, red and raw meat,
a feast offered to the obese beast to feed it’s greed.

It’s flesh is weak and temptation runs within;
pumping through its veins like the original sin
whispering in its ears its self-centred narration
so it might save itself from its own salvation.

Continue to dine on the body of fellow man:
a meagre carcass provides like no god can.
For out there lie no heavens, except in the lies
of how humanity is born, lives and never dies.

Yet when the last one sits on a throne o’ bones,
hungering for more than everything that it owns;
shall it finally learn it can never grow whole?
For feasts of flesh and blood empty the soul.

I'm impressed!  I initially thought "but never dies" wasn't quite right, but realized it referred to "humanity" not individuals and our end as an intelligent adaptable species is not certain.

Very nice, and thank you.
Atheist born, atheist bred.  And when I die, atheist dead!

Online Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #320 on: June 11, 2018, 06:32:12 PM »
We are Goliath
 
I know it's a tale told to boys by their mothers
yet find myself lost in the legend of Druon Antigoon
who paid the selfsame toll he exacted onto others
when the brave hero Brabo faced him all alone.
A clash worthy of the biblical David and Goliath
over the waters of the Scheldt; calm but treacherous,
where karma unleashed it's unrivaled and ironic wrath
when the roman held his prize overhead, victorious.
Like Atlas it was a world that he carried and showed;
there he held the hand that had taken so many of it's kin
and had thrown them in the cold river to be swallowed
all for greed, 't was the giant's determinately deadly sin.

A lie that showed Belgians to be the bravest of any Gaul
and that large foes can be overcome without exception
as long as one fights hard and carries a pure, noble soul.
At the saga's core; any dwarf can conquer the leviathan
and the wicked shall never escape their just deserts.
When I was but a small child this story brought me awe.
But as an adult pondering it over; it only disconcerts.
For our history lies before me like a never-ending jigsaw
leading up to a well-deserved yet worrisome threat
when we cast aside Brabo's intention in favor of evil.
I sit at home, waiting for karma to come collect a debt
for all the helpless hands that we took in Leopoldville.
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.


Offline Deidre32

O Wounded Bird
« Reply #321 on: June 17, 2018, 09:03:21 PM »
O Wounded Bird by Deidre


O wounded bird, why did you take your eyes off the sky?

You were flying along, minding your own business, and one day...another bird saw you.

He flew alongside you, in a comical rhythm. He didn't disrupt your flight, he led you to the morning worms.

You skimmed the dewy leaves together, at dawn. His incessant chirping never bothered you, and eventually, a friendship blossomed.

You'd swoop down and then in a flash, soar high above the leafy trees, looking at the world, below. Together, you made the other birds jealous, and they'd fly in a pattern, to be just like you.

He wanted to be with you always, wounded bird. You thought he was the finest gentleman in the area, always fending off the ravenous vultures.

And then one day, bam! You hit a tree while you had your eyes on him. It came out of nowhere. The sharp, jaggedy bark clipped your left wing, and you spiraled to the ground. You tried to call out for your friend, but he never came.

He was there just a minute ago.

Writhing in the dirt, you found your way to your feet, and hobbled along, with one broken wing dangling...lifeless. That tree, where did it come from? How did you not see it? You were blindsided by its strength, its beauty, its stoic nature.

Trees are quite stoic, aren't they?

If you hadn't had your eyes on your love, you would have seen it. He didn't help you that day. Such is a bird's life, I reckon. You fly, and sometimes, you rise above all the smoke and chatter. Other days, you don't, because your eyes were pressed on another bird who you thought cared for you like no other.

O wounded bird, why did you take your eyes off the sky?
The only lasting beauty, is the beauty of the heart. - Rumi

Offline Deidre32

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #322 on: June 17, 2018, 09:04:01 PM »
(Not quite a poem ^^ , but more of a literary piece) ^_^
The only lasting beauty, is the beauty of the heart. - Rumi

Online Shiranu

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #323 on: June 17, 2018, 09:22:35 PM »
I would consider it a poem... very Shahnameh (Persian "Book of Kings", or prose of Iranian history and myth) vibes.
“And, for an instant, she stared directly into those soft blue eyes and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, that the exceedingly rich were no longer even remotely human.” - William Gibson, "Count Zero"

A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor. Ú or le a ú or nin.

Online Shiranu

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #324 on: July 09, 2018, 04:07:32 AM »
Regret living with passion for what you love, for either way what you love will hurt you in the end.
Let your heart bathe in the sun before it withers and die, for all our hearts wither and die when it is their time.
This passion of life will be heartache, and the fear of life will be heartache double still.
“And, for an instant, she stared directly into those soft blue eyes and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, that the exceedingly rich were no longer even remotely human.” - William Gibson, "Count Zero"

A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor. Ú or le a ú or nin.

Offline Cavebear

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #325 on: July 09, 2018, 04:13:59 AM »
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(Not quite a poem ^^ , but more of a literary piece) ^_^

Yeah, but it was still pretty good!
Atheist born, atheist bred.  And when I die, atheist dead!

Offline Deidre32

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #326 on: August 01, 2018, 09:55:15 PM »
(poem by me)

A man to my left
A woman to my right
Who shall stay with me
On this starry night?

If it would be him
He will bring flowers and wine
Dazzle me with his strength
A date so sublime

But, suppose she shows up
A few minutes too late?
Hoping that I'll notice her
I'll just make her wait

She'll be wearing torn jeans
Looking me up and down
Her eyes all sparkly and blue
We may head into town

He promises me one thing
She does the same
Who to believe?
This isn't a game

I don't think I can choose
They are both so amazing
It may come down to a kiss
That will tell me everything

A man to my left
A woman to my right
Who shall stay with me
On this starry night?


*I thought of some titles, but think it's best unnamed. This poem was slightly inspired by a friend of mine who is bi, and I sometimes wonder...does it ever get confusing, or does she just follow her heart, wherever it may lead?
« Last Edit: August 01, 2018, 10:02:18 PM by Deidre32 »
The only lasting beauty, is the beauty of the heart. - Rumi

Offline Deidre32

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #327 on: August 02, 2018, 10:19:59 PM »
A poem for my grandmother (by me)

I had a dream last night
It startled me awake
For a moment, she returned
But, it was all fake

My heart did a flip
Nana called out my name
It seemed so real
Not another mind game

Why did she leave me?
Where did she go?
She went to a better place
Or, so I’ve been told

I miss her laugh
And her kind ways
She was like a bright light
Such beautiful, strong rays

My dad misses her, too
His mother whom he loved
He is angry, and sad
Feels a bit drugged

It didn’t just happen
A few years have passed
But, when someone dies
You learn nothing lasts

So, the days that we have
Are numbered at best
Spend them wisely
Because you could be next

Life makes a raw deal
Pull up a chair, listen up!
Love one another
And never let up

For without love
There is no life at all
Just a mere existence
Weak and small

But, love changes everything
It may hurt, it may cost
The sacrifice is worth it
Even if it’s lost

Nana, I love you
You weren’t here long enough
But, know that you are missed
And, it’s been quite tough

No one will ever be like you
You once said the same
To me, over coffee
After a trivia game

You had a way with words
Made everyone feel at ease
Your presence and beauty
Felt like a gentle breeze

If there is a heaven
I will see you again
I won’t have to dream
It will be real, with no end.
The only lasting beauty, is the beauty of the heart. - Rumi

Offline Deidre32

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #328 on: August 12, 2018, 01:01:18 AM »
The Trip (poem by me)

Once upon a time
there was a naive girl
she followed her heart
she traveled the world

She went to Paris and Madrid
sampling food and wine
chatting up strangers
believing all their lines

The men were quite kind
spewing what she wanted to hear
they were charming and smart
but unfortunately, quite cavalier

Every airplane trip
gave her a rush
who would she meet this time?
who would be her next crush?

Yet, her trips grew dull
as ten years piled on
she woke up one day
realizing, what she had done

She relentlessly kept looking
for that one special thing
where could it be?
what was she missing?

All along her journeys
she hoped it was him
one man after the next
but, the chances grew slim

One day, as she packed
for yet another long trip
she fidgeted and frowned
biting her lip

She was tired of traveling
it got her quite down
so many cities and towns
she was never around

Her mother and father
were becoming older and distant
she lost track of time
in what seemed to be, an instant

Traveling the world
lost her so much
where did her friends go?
they stopped keeping in touch

Her peace and happiness
was always right here
not in a faraway land
but, up close and clear

She made an atonement
to those she had ignored
spending time in the present
she had so much in store

No more boats and planes
her mind was made up
if she were to find love
she would have to offer up

Her time and kindness
and cease chasing the wrong things
she was grateful to be home
where she finally stopped yearning

How can this be?
she thought, with a smile
my entire life
I've been lost in the miles

Once upon a time
there was a naive girl
she followed her heart
and the path led to her.
The only lasting beauty, is the beauty of the heart. - Rumi

Online Mr.Obvious

Re: The Poetry Thread
« Reply #329 on: September 08, 2018, 06:54:31 PM »
Tornado

The wind keeps tearing at the home we built.
Wood, would it splinter? Stone, should it crumble?
And where such poison needed to be spilled;
lead could be torn from beneath our scumble.

Why do we have to fight to stay grounded
and not drift off in a rage without form?
Though I know the roars will keep me hounded
I fell in love with the eye of the storm.

I am a man with no roof overhead;
looking at clear blue skies above, through truss.
I am calm, at peace, and the air is dead.
Trapped between walls invisible to us.
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.


 

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