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Thread: The ets poetry thread

  1. #31
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    Quote Originally Posted by renholder View Post
    I am a published poet, as well!

    Here's something that hasn't been published.

    Tonight, in Brighton

    Davey sniffs too much oxycontin after slipping from his
    skateboard on Beacon and slamming his shoulder into
    that fence that divides the inbound and outbound tracks
    of the C line. I poke at the bruising flesh pretending to
    know what I’m doing when really I’ve never even seen
    a broken bone. He squirms; I tell him to go to the hospital
    but his health insurance ran out last June, and besides, they’ll
    know he’s high and start asking questions. He can’t feel
    his left arm anymore. Still, it’s not a pretty sight and he asks
    me if I can take it off and put it in the freezer for later so
    I throw a fleece blanket over him and his pinhole eyes
    roll back in his head, that big goofy smile comes over his
    face and he tells me he always wanted to be a marine biologist.
    “You hate fish,” I tell him, “and you can’t even swim.” His
    grin turns into something manic, subhuman, animal even
    and he says the only way to love something is to understand it,
    then Davey gets real serious and in hushed whispers starts
    telling me that before the infection in his shoulder spreads
    and he dies of gangrene he just needs somebody to know
    where to find his life’s work. I retrieve the laptop from
    his bedroom, navigate at his instruction to discover a folder
    filled with everything Sarah Larkin ever posted on the internet.
    “Jesus, Davey,” I say, taking note of the meticulously
    arranged system of subfolders, dated and labeled, going
    back over a decade. I tell him high school’s been over a long time
    and this is crazy and he needs professional help but he waves
    his good hand to dismiss the notion and says “No, no, it’s not like that.”
    I ask Davey what it is like.
    He says that all matter in the known universe shares a single
    point of origin and swears all of the hang-ups he’s experienced
    in his adult life come down to his inability to accept the indisputable
    truth that he and Sarah are both parts of the same eternal, infinite being;
    that when she cheated on him with Kevin Morrissey in 11th grade she
    was simply expressing the dualistic nature of Davey’s own humanity,
    acting on the very same electrical impulses that drove him to love her
    comprehensively. I open up Sarah’s Facebook page and ask Davey if her career
    and husband and two children were all born out of the same
    electrical impulses that drive him to ingest so many pharmaceuticals.
    His response is a wild cackle, like a wounded hyena
    in a nature documentary where the lions are clearly portrayed
    as the protagonists. “Hush, Davey,” I say, “you’ll wake your neighbors.”
    He coughs a bit on his own laughter and quiets down, looks me dead
    in the eyes and asks if I think there’s a market for narwhal erotica.
    I shut his computer and tell him to sleep on his side so he doesn’t choke.
    that was heart breaking.

  2. #32
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    Based on an experience I had an hour ago.

    My mind is an anvil.
    I'm unable to move.
    It's always on repeat
    Every time I lose.

    Maybe it's just a good thing
    this time.

    Maybe it's the calm before
    I'm ripe again.

    And things shall blossom
    at my wishes,
    as you are eager to see me again
    and you shall cheer for me
    as I'm bathed in colored lights.

    But first, the anvil must go.

    And here I am,
    sprouting little words of text
    in some message board,
    as a reminder that things come and go
    and I need to improvise.

    The creative streams are flowing,
    but emotions hold them back.

    This should go away soon.

    Post Quick Reply.

  3. #33
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    Bravo, @wizfan

    Ya sou!!
    Last edited by allegro; 10-30-2015 at 03:03 AM.

  4. #34
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    Efcharisto poly, @allegro ! Here's a collection of some really old poems of mine, written about seven or eight years ago.

    http://wizfrikiman.deviantart.com/ga...2518/wizpoetry

  5. #35
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    WATERFALLS
    (This one was written in the deepest depths of my alcoholism. I've played with it for YEARS and i'm STILL not happy with it. But i do like a lot of it. It just doesn't come together quite the way i want it to.)

    Instant of association.
    Hide behind my amber colored waterfall
    intoxicating clearest lake of never seeing through it all
    Awake and wash away a sea of empty memories of could have been and dreams of half remembered things.

    So sweet to be inside of her
    Knowing she's alive and warm i'm dying lying next to her.
    She's crying fighting trying just to teach me how to breathe...
    (i'm flirting with disaster falling faster as she calculates the aftermath)

    I'm praying for an ending while she's praying i can change.
    I press my head against her breast her very essence everything
    That COULD have been between us meaning this will be the end.
    The sweetest tide is rising falling calling me again.


  6. #36
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    the only card i hold is when
    how what where and why
    are yours.
    my win turned into
    nothing more
    than a revolving door
    'cause no matter how happy
    no matter how grand
    the road still ends
    straight back in your hands.

    your little stag
    guess that promise ring is a drag
    any body will do
    so long as you get through

    fucking resentful knowing that
    hard won changes all fall flat
    you tossed a weighted coin
    you compromised the plot
    now i'm left knowing
    that when is all i've got

    your little stag
    some naked tag
    take this man while you can
    mr upper hand
    and his three legged last stand.

    little stag
    march 1st 2015
    (revisions june 18 2015)

    alternate working title was: go fuck yourself,you duplicitous cheating stealing derp...but that was too long. and too pissed off. lol.
    this was written for a dear, dear friend. yep.

  7. #37
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    oh, where did
    you go?
    your colours
    and fire
    that sacred
    spire
    why has your
    spirit retired?
    can you hear me
    in there?
    are these screams
    getting through?
    if i claw past
    the blankness
    will i stumble upon you?

    are you sleeping?
    hiding? taking a break?
    am i to stand here quiet
    would you have me just wait?
    whatever it is
    whatsoever you say
    everything and anything
    so long as it ends this fade

    arms remain empty
    hands are so cold
    presence not present
    the line is on hold
    i get that life changes
    and people can part
    is that what you need?
    is this true in your heart?
    the worst is the silence
    spanning more than words
    gut wrenching silence
    i don't know what to do
    please, let me in
    let me back in to you.

    are you sleeping?
    hiding? taking a break?
    am i to stand here quiet?
    would you have me just wait?
    whatever it is
    whatsoever you say
    everything and anything
    to halt this slow fade.

    frozen
    jan 1st 2016

  8. #38
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    mirror mirror
    on your wall
    deliberately keeping
    the images small
    no need to hold
    any ownership
    beyond that requiring
    a phat money clip
    if it's shit that can't
    be made or bought
    then unprofitable are
    the flights of thought
    attributes like
    personal accountability
    are financially immature
    and unworthy of thee.
    do as i say
    while i do as i will
    nature vs nurture
    they become you, distilled
    respect and fear, well,
    they're factually antonyms
    until you grasp this concept
    you stake all on empty wins.
    keep ignoring that mirror
    flashing on your wall
    just as you disregard the ground
    coming up to meet your fall.

    shattered
    jan. 1st 2016

  9. #39
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    I made a list of hopes and dreams per a friend's request, and one of them was "to write one good poem this year". Well, turns out it's happening sooner rather than later, haha. I've been working slowly at it, but it starts with/ is titled "My nights filled with blood obsession".

  10. #40
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    This one DOES have a very specific rhythm, if you can catch it I wrote this like a year ago. It's a lost writing that i totally forgot about. i found it and read i t and was like, damn, this is fairly good. It IS a cliche love poem, but still. I like it.




    I lov(
    Broken I was frozen (motion minimized)
    yet falling/calling dying(deep inside)
    I (tried but nothing filled the void)


    was lost in frost-forgotten mid(night crystallized
    with killing) moonlight drifting sifting dreaming/dreamless
    “pray-ing-for- the-end”


    of this asphyxiation hastening,
    my ex-sanguination waiting
    cross/contaminated
    fading
    (ending so begins)


    BUT then I heard your (voice the sweetest sound)
    the “music of the”ang/els (aural fibonacci spirals)
    high/ above/ the/ ground


    You lifted me and (pressed against your breasts I saw eternity)
    and bless'd majestic/mysteries
    so lost now I am found.
    )e you.

    Edit: it works better without the name in it; it's already cheesy enough.
    Last edited by elevenism; 03-04-2018 at 03:26 PM.

  11. #41
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    i would not fuck you
    for any reason
    i will not fuck you
    in any season
    not here nor there
    not anywhere
    no how no why no when
    no what no who
    the end.
    i would not fuck you
    to save my soul
    you don't get a pass
    to this sacred hole (pole)
    i will not fuck you
    no matter what
    quit the posturing
    shut the fuck up
    i would not fuck you
    that's a fact
    i will not fuck you
    so take that.

    dr. nope.
    august 13th, 2016.

    i wanted to make a crude dr.seuss rhyme. i think i succeeded. lol.
    hole (pole) for gender neutrality ;p
    Last edited by Lew; 08-17-2016 at 03:59 PM.

  12. #42
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    ozone's seductive weave
    wafting off rain drip leaves
    tendrils of wind stir the air
    the soil takes in all it can bear.

    peaceful and dreamy and soft
    every tension found is lost
    all i need to complete the serene
    is send this feeling to you, unseen.

    i floated a request to the sky
    then dropped one below as a tie
    to anchor a net to enclose
    you in a cross stitching of prose.

    rest you awhile in the space
    spun out of love and life's grace
    close your mind and seek release
    i'll keep you safe aloft and at peace.

    hush now, my heart, be still
    your strength lies in waiting to fill
    surrender yourself to the tide
    honour the boy, then the man, inside.

    seeping in.
    august 14th, 2016.

  13. #43
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    you are rowing in circles
    my love, not lines
    there's a tether, there's
    an anchor, so don't be resigned

    underneath you flows
    an oceans worth of pain
    but in trying to escape it
    all you do is remain

    into the depths, into the dark
    it's time for you to swim
    fully immersed, over your head
    out is through is in

    got to tip your boat
    overboard overboard
    need to sink not float
    overboard overboard

    no port no habour no land
    no way out by strength of hand
    or sleight of mind or slip of heart
    *your soul plays the only part

    release the rudder
    the waves are in accord
    surrender to the waters
    throw yourself overboard

    tip your boat
    overboard overboard
    sink not float
    overboard overboard

    touching bottom is touching you
    is touching real is breaking through
    stop reaching for a distant star
    that already resides in you, wherever you are.

    overboard
    august 12th, 2016

    *this line will be changed.

    this is from a conversation about wanting to tip loved ones out of their boats and into to their emotional waters. not that we do it, but we want to.
    Last edited by Lew; 08-15-2016 at 12:47 PM.

  14. #44
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    so swiftly those flames of rage
    had me flying to set up the stage
    jacked the volume and watched the door
    gave sgt. something he couldn't ignore

    wow look at the locks and wood rattle
    his reaction vibrating through matter
    sorry sgt. but the radio discussion is closed
    demons in his eyes and glass pressed to nose

    fiery breath steaming through the window
    hey dude, i am not your fucking kiddo
    and at your age i should not have to explain
    the basics of how to stay in your own lane

    tiny piece of rope is no tie that binds
    you said no thanks, what'd you hope to find?
    radio war-word war-eye war glance
    yo, sgt., no legs are holding up your stance

    oh but our hero, the man caught looming
    over maiden whose death he was assuming
    some simple words and the good sgt. was done
    now the mouse asks the cat: are you having fun?

    instead of being so deeply conflicted
    over you and i issues that you self inflicted
    why not guide your mind back above your hips
    then maybe you should open those pig master lips

    this little piggy didn't get to go home
    old sgt. rigged the compass needle to 'roam'
    crossing boundaries and forging his plans
    but neither a nor b conformed to plan

    tiny piece of rope is no tie that binds
    you said no thanks, what'd you hope to find?
    time war-dissonance war-core war fail
    dear sgt. you have gone way beyond the pale.

    sgt. song
    august 15, 2016

    (this one has been 24 years in the making...)
    Last edited by Lew; 08-17-2016 at 03:58 PM.

  15. #45
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    why won't you let yourself
    let me in?
    you got past the caricatures
    of temptation and sin
    so how come you won't step
    wearing your own shoes?
    what's up with blindfolding
    the options to choose?
    if the taste of your truth is
    so damned bitter
    spit it into my mouth and
    i will deal with the shivers,
    then give it back all smooth
    and sleek
    if that's what it takes to
    help you speak.
    how much longer can you
    duck and dive
    before you are drained of
    will and drive?
    here's a key, and over there
    is a clue,
    that is a path to the door
    are you going to step through?
    i'm thinking maybe you would
    care to consider
    that the laying of obstacles
    serves only to hinder.
    whistle's blowing, i know
    you feel its sound
    lace up your fucking shoes
    and stop being too proud.

    shivers
    august 12, 2016.

  16. #46
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lew View Post
    why won't you let yourself
    let me in?
    you got past the caricatures
    of temptation and sin
    so how come you won't step
    wearing your own shoes?
    what's up with blindfolding
    the options to choose?
    if the taste of your truth is
    so damned bitter
    spit it into my mouth and
    i will deal with the shivers,
    then give it back all smooth
    and sleek
    if that's what it takes to
    help you speak.
    how much longer can you
    duck and dive
    before you are drained of
    will and drive?
    here's a key, and over there
    is a clue,
    that is a path to the door
    are you going to step through?
    i'm thinking maybe you would
    care to consider
    that the laying of obstacles
    serves only to hinder.
    whistle's blowing, i know
    you feel its sound
    lace up your fucking shoes
    and stop being too proud.

    shivers
    august 12, 2016.
    i feel this one deeply, but i'm sure it's not in the way you meant it...the subjective nature of art and all.
    I feel like saying this to my wife. I don't need her to go to work. I just want her to LEAVE THE HOUSE.
    It's breaking my heart. i feel like i'm watching her die. first she lost her kids, then she became epileptic.
    When i met her, she had a house, a car, a gvmt job as a nurse, furniture, all that shit, and when she wanted to see me she got on a plane.
    Now, 4 years later, she just lays in my bed and watches roku. She doesn't smile. She doesn't laugh. I don't need much.
    Like today, i just want her to ride with me and my mom to the dr. Yes it's 3 hours in the car and a trip to walmart and all that, but goddamn, she doesn't have to do ANYTHING!
    I don't want to be mean to her but i have to get her to try.
    Anyway, i think your situation is a little different @Lew , but the words still work. Thank you.

  17. #47
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    frustration is frustration, sweet el.. @elevenism
    i get not wanting to kick someone who is down, but i also get reaching a point where you literally want to tear the top of their skull open and shout inside "STOP. NOW.".
    i know this frustration of mine will only be relieved, minutely, by having written it out.
    i know the frustration of yours will only be relieved, minutely, by having shared a wire of feeling with me.
    i hope it helped.
    much love to you and to your wife.
    also, and can't advise as i haven't fully sorted out the hows, try to remember that no matter how it may FEEL, you are separate entities. for myself, that really has made dealing with frustration a lot worse. is there anything worse or better (really) than being so deeply entwined with someone?
    Last edited by Lew; 08-19-2016 at 12:20 PM.

  18. #48
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    Ok. My turn.

    And yet i wasn't scared at all

    Covering my nose and lips in scarf
    I was crossing the road
    - Thinking about this girl who died
    By cutting her head off with train -
    When the truck started to slide on the snow
    Dangerously close to me. And then stopped
    "Ha, it would be too predictable to happen" -
    I thought

    And another one, this one is a bit lame, i wasn't writing anything for about a year or so. And then i decided to write some lyrics and make an album. But i don't like it as a song.

    The Heir

    This creepy room is full of roses
    He never thought it is like that
    The woes, the tears and cries of sorrow
    The death is standing by his side
    And everyone is really friendly
    'Just ask for help and we will come'
    The heir is swinging in his cradle
    The sinner having his own fun


    In every dream he had so far
    He is an older teenage boy
    Who got just everything he wants
    And smiles happily with joy

    He has no doubts and no regrets
    The little monster raised as prince
    He rips his books and torture pets
    By piercing skin with knives and pins
    He is
    The murderer.

    And then his eyelids slowly open
    He turns his head to one who died
    And sees the corpse inside the coffin
    He nods. He's now satisfied.

  19. #49
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    blue blue
    lover blue
    blue is the language
    best describes you
    the colour that lifts me
    the shade that enfolds
    my way to touch you
    it's your hue i hold
    -blue within, blue above-
    -blue without, blue my love-
    height of passion
    heart of fire
    measured in blue
    you are all that inspires
    true as the blue
    of water and sky
    real is the blue
    that connects you and i
    -blue is the breath, blue is the bone-
    -blue will unlock the gateway home-
    blue are the notes
    of your honing song
    blue the reminder
    of times come and gone
    blue is the tether
    your eye to mine
    blue is ours
    to seek and find

    this blue
    july 30 2014/june 2016/december 27&29 2016




    *this* blue is my azurite. and yes, i wrote a love song to it and for it. a simple and valuable love.
    Last edited by Lew; 12-29-2016 at 12:37 PM. Reason: long, love...four letters, whatever.

  20. #50
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    so don't want to
    coax or cajole
    so not trying to
    chain down your soul
    just sitting here waiting
    watching in wonder
    as you calculate your way
    toward another catastrophic blunder.

    draw near so you hear
    me make this clear:
    fortify.
    i know you know i see
    so maybe you could please:
    fortify.

    so not quite sure
    what you expect
    so very certain we
    touched on respect
    how pointless to stage
    electric scherezade's show
    we're no 3 evils monkeys
    our ugly's not on the down low.

    no vengeance to bring
    forgiveness for any/every thing:
    fortify.
    you just say the word
    guarantee you will be heard:
    fortify.

    fortify (#2) june 6th 2017

    ("better" of the bad/better/best trilogy)

  21. #51
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    must confess
    want to feel
    the hair of your chest
    crushing into
    the skin
    on my back.
    pretty keen
    to scream
    your name into
    your mouth.
    very unsure
    why my cells blur
    whenever your eyes
    cross my mind.
    black rainbows inside this
    pink flower-bride
    they're thrown
    all over your lawn.
    you could choose
    to be drawn.
    you could try
    to put a spin.
    you could help
    shape the design.
    we could
    colour us in.

    colour us in. (#3)
    "best" of "bad/better/best"

    june 13th 2017
    Last edited by Lew; 08-18-2017 at 11:36 AM. Reason: a-with-a-neurosis-ah

  22. #52
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    Damn. i used to write non fucking stop, but it's been a long time.
    I sure would like to get this thread going again.
    i really respect the work of the inimitable T. Jackson Lankford :P
    Here's one of my favorite lines:

    "Aural Tricks, like tongue kiss whispers, flicker ever after on the young lips of star crossed lovers."
    -t. jackson lankford
    Last edited by elevenism; 12-02-2017 at 02:37 AM.

  23. #53
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    The Revolving Caravan

    The tambourine fades as my mind exits the dream
    The numbness of sleep fades
    The sky is blanketed with an array of clouds
    One after another after another, just grey
    I’d prefer twilight, the mystery of the coming darkness
    Or just before, where faint shadows are friends
    With crushed asphalt and sand, the ground mirrors the sky
    It seems nothing even lives here
    Some days we scavenge for food and some days we enjoy the hunger
    Waiting
    Watching the grains of sand.
    Waiting
    They start to dance. Jumping , one by one
    Even the smallest particle reacts to the caravan
    They parade with luscious food, rhythm, and brand new ideas
    What a spectacle! Their bright red garb and design
    Their synchronous sounds, laughter and intoxication
    Juggling fire, they seem invulnerable
    Our bodies warm as if the sun shined on our skin
    Offerings of clarity and equilibrium
    They balance on a tight rope
    A Finale
    They take a bow
    As the day closes, we forget the visitors
    We forget the hope, the desire
    And the world begins to change, we retreat into fatigue

  24. #54
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    18 daysThis is where I’m at
    Well, technically where I’m at is on the couch
    On the couch a bit buzzed
    A bit tipsy
    A bit of booze dripping off of these lips
    My kingdom for an ellipses . . .
    I’m over the moon
    Not quite like a cow, but not unlike one either
    Everything I’ve known is about to change
    Bring.
    It.
    No.
    On***
    2nd wind
    2nd brew—Setting change—Bar flying
    The freezing hops sliding — yes, sliding— down this esophagus of mine
    I burp some foam while a bit urine dribbles out of that organ that some people call a “member”
    The whole world is a blur behind me
    My index finger extends
    While my brow motions that I want to close
    The tender smiles. She understands (I think)
    She brings another full beer in front of me.
    I drink.

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