The ets poetry thread

[elevenism]

Okay, i write. A LOT.
And it turns out that Charmingly Miserable is actually a published poet! (some of you probably already knew this, but i just found out.)
We have been talking a little bit, and decided that it would be cool to do this, to start a poetry thread. Short prose is acceptable too.

My friend Brandon Selway and i started a facebook poetry group called Meta Poetics that really blew up...y'all check it out if you like.
Judging by the success we've had there, i think we might REALLY have a killer group here for three reasons. One, we are tighter knit than facebook...well, than my facebook crewanyway. We are of above average intelligence. And finally, we are a very creative bunch. I am willing to bet that more of us write than don't.

So post your poems and let's all read and discuss each other's work.

Don't be shy!

[elevenism]

I will go first. I've already posted this one here once, but i'm proud of it and it's recent.

Angel Angle

my sweetest dream (my lore)
my precious princess
you're the door
that opens (hopeandtrustandus)
and
endless/nameless/dreamless
(soaring) we're


awake and seamless (give
and take/away) the stress :
(forgive)
that bound us mend us
timeless/fearless/endless
bending time (again begin this)
hold me (slowly dance) and cleave
one to the other and believe
my
jesus' sister
(i'm your brother)
second...
cumming.
angel.
lover.


tension/saccharine/pressing
blessing our undressing
stressing-clutching fists and testing
one
(another)
two
(together)
angel
angle
Now i have you singing
soothing/breathing deep agreeing: (seeing
home again) my
GOD ive missed you
hold me closer
i surrender.

-Tyler Lankford

[Charmingly Miserable]

This is one of my favorites and it was published in March's edition of Coachella Valley Magazine (http://coachellamagazine.com/post/79690202836/march-theme-poetry).

Dearly Departed

Though I have been dearly departed
Life is not far from me
Where you remain in my heart
Keep me company tonight
Warm my bones
Sing me the songs I once sang
Offer me a drink
Tell me the stories I loved to hear
The night is full of joy
As you have not forgotten me
The light from the candles
Flicker on the face I still remember
Marked by the days gone by
How I can recall the time we spent together
Those moments I know you yearn for too
It will not be long, my love
Before you will depart too
And eternity will be ours to keep

-Yours Truly

[elevenism]

Damn, Charmingly Miserable . That one is LOVELY. You write as though you were living in a different time!

[elevenism]

So is this thread just going to be me and you, Charmingly Miserable ?
I'll throw down another one later today.

[renholder]

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.

[elevenism]

Dude I fucking LOVED that renholder

[Pillfred]

Kind of too bad this didn't take off. Here's one about a raccoon that ate all the peanuts and came back for the hot ones i hadn't yet laid out whilst camping a couple years back. (those things are scary big at 3am fully hammered.)

For Ricky ...Bold betrayer of my sanctuary, mausoleum
Past discretion a memory until your return
Ease and confidence mark your proud gait
Disturbed you calmly retreat back, one step
Only to resume again your wanton desires
Sated, smug, satisfied you disappear, alone
Our folly made clear in this display of will
This nights sacrifice mere peanuts to you

[elevenism]

i KNOW more people write here. I'm gonna post something in "the little things that piss you off" and bitch about no one participating.

[sentient02970]

I wrote this as a reaction to the Newtown, Connecticut school shootings.

The Pit Of Madness

Your ghastly reminder
silenced
Your shambling inkspot
fading

Drawn to end of page
leaking crimson
this monolith of
copper aftertaste.

Hands fail
at holding tears
yet the covering of faces
fits.

In a shame of
a hollowed soul
the gap becomes
hope vacuum

The etched remnants
of angry words
left on this small desk
amid the smoky din.

As questions float to surface
the ballast of hurt
peers around that corner
God doesn't want you to see.

Broken becomes us.

[elevenism]

what powerful verses, @sentient02970 (http://www.echoingthesound.org/community/member.php?u=444) .

Definitely some heart felt work!

Thank you, SINCERELY, for participating, man.

I can't put my finger on why, but this thread, and the very idea of an ETS poetry group REALLY means a lot to me.

I love you fuckers...i really do :)

[Joy Prevention Hotline]

(This is my response to an unexpected poetry incident in "The little things that piss you off." Since it didn't piss me off, this seems like a more appropriate place to reply.)


I Know the World IV
Even though I'm really not into poetry, I have to say I liked that. Reminds me of what I enjoy about Saul Williams's music … so I guess that means I like some poetry after all? I forget that he was a poet before he started doing music.

[elevenism]

Joy Prevention Hotline
this is my favorite Saul Williams poem, though it occurs in a hip hop song.
It's also my favorite hip hop song...if you flat out hate rap and just want to hear saul, skip to about 2:45.

but i HIGHLY recommend the rest of it. Gift of Gab of Blackalicious goes off the fucking chain...better than any rapper you will hear on the radio. plus it features zack de la rocha .


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIgSerx3Uu8

"i can think of nothing heavier than an airplane. i can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal. i can think of nothing less likely to fly."

[Joy Prevention Hotline]

Joy Prevention Hotline
this is my favorite Saul Williams poem, though it occurs in a hip hop song.
It's also my favorite hip hop song...if you flat out hate rap and just want to hear saul, skip to about 2:45.

but i HIGHLY recommend the rest of it. Gift of Gab of Blackalicious goes off the fucking chain...better than any rapper you will hear on the radio. plus it features zack de la rocha.
Niggy Tardust was also the first hint that I like some kinds of hip hop, especially what AllMusic calls experimental hip hop. I'd put this in that category. :)

I need to beef up my commuting playlist — I actually ran out last week and had to pull over so I could cue up The Fragile — so new music is always a good thing.

(Experimental hip hop opened me up to stuff like Public Enemy, too.)

[green]

Diaphanous perch devours the unsteady
Such is nature that ungracious host
I lie censored in the garden of exile
Sight lost in the filament of a fevered pitch
My skin splinters as my hair draws brittle
Teeth crumbling under a florescent sky
The flesh gives way to reason alone
I now abdicate hope, for life plays most unfair

[green]

Sun bleached column of rain
Bleeding clouds seeping through the pastel
A portal opens

Waves of heat race forward
Intrusive now, a light beams through
Impaling the solipsistic

A single thought gathers momentum
As her screams become intently unfocused
The child of Anil is born

Breathing shallow now
Sight dims to accommodate
So silent this rhythm has become

[renholder]

Thanks for the kind words and Likes, guys. I hadn't logged in in a while and it was really nice to see. Appreciate it.

[Lew]

the rose is
in bloom
when you enter
a room
so fragrant
and bright
you know it's
not right
how you simply
reach through
thorns that forgot
how to

eat you alive

staked to the wall
frozen in free fall
the king of the hall
is watching

and oh how
the roots thrive
you never even
had to try
took that
green thumb
broke the rules
to succumb
take your spade
dig down deep
ignoring all
you will not keep

eat me alive

forged in your fire
branded by desire
all i require
is this moment.

alive feb 22nd 2015

[Lew]

i'll be yours if you'll be mine
now i guess we're on rewind
back to the start, will it matter
we're still us, mismatched patterns

being yours, like a wave to the shore,
i return to the source, being yours.

an orange is still not a square
we're awake but no more aware
unless fundamental structures shifted
the wheat and chaff still haven't been sifted

being yours, i'll unlock the door
though i'm so much more, being yours.

so, yes, i am yours as i'll always be
what that is worth to you remains to be seen
i take back the denial and lift the ban
all so you can have the least of what i am

being yours, like a wave to the shore,
i return to the source, being yours.

being yours jan 26 2015

[Blackbookpress1984]

I used to write a TONS of poetry. Even ran my own publication for a while because i felt that breaking into publishing was pretty hard, and I wanted to give people with different writing styles ( like my own) a place to have a voice.
I think this is the only evidence of the zine left online: http://zinewiki.com/Black_Book_Press

I still have all my hard copies though. I remember spending long hours at the UPS store mass copying that thing and then more long hours of folding and stapling and sealing envelopes.

Somewhere I have a box of all of the publications I was printed in (Somewhere) lol.

Brings back good memories from college though (as I started the zine in my dorm room)

[halloween]

I've been rediscovering Ezra Pound recently and found inspiration which that came instantly, then became devastated by a stupid poem I wrote, then in my reaction to my own stupid poem, I wrote something I actually liked and wanted to share instantly instead of forget forever in my journal to just be reread three years down the line before destroying the journal (I have fantasies of burning all my journals, except that requires rereading them. I've gone through a third of them now but haven't gotten to the point of actually destroying them. I may give myself a few more years.)
Anyways, here it is.

The snow are my thoughts.
The garden is my dream.
The winter is symbolic
of how frustrating and
disappointing my artistic
endeavors have been.
If you can even call them endeavors.

[sentient02970]

Translation

A center point defined as origin
I began as a soul without direction

Trace vector to concentric radius
I allowed the world around me shape my path

Distance determinant of velocity from origin
I slipped away, from the you, from the us

A nonlinear function defined by multiple variables
Nothing to hold on to, adrift in my shame and sorrow

The center of mass is acted upon by a gravitational constant
You guided me with a loving hand, unyielding love

Harmonic amplitude will decay over time
But years swept me under and you slipped away

Force in a magnetic field is perpendicular to the motion of a particle passing through
Your distance drove my will to commit myself, to conquer the dark

The total amount of energy in a closed system stays constant over time
Discovery became the story of us, the inner part of us, our core.

Small differences in the initial conditions of a dynamic system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of a system.
Together, forever, drifting to that unknown

[elevenism]

Translation

A center point defined as origin
I began as a soul without direction

Trace vector to concentric radius
I allowed the world around me shape my path

Distance determinant of velocity from origin
I slipped away, from the you, from the us

A nonlinear function defined by multiple variables
Nothing to hold on to, adrift in my shame and sorrow

The center of mass is acted upon by a gravitational constant
You guided me with a loving hand, unyielding love

Harmonic amplitude will decay over time
But years swept me under and you slipped away

Force in a magnetic field is perpendicular to the motion of a particle passing through
Your distance drove my will to commit myself, to conquer the dark

The total amount of energy in a closed system stays constant over time
Discovery became the story of us, the inner part of us, our core.

Small differences in the initial conditions of a dynamic system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of a system.
Together, forever, drifting to that unknown
fucking amazing

[elevenism]

Sister/lover
Chance encounter
Counts her stars we'll
Dance forever
Texas sky and
(Dying/living)
We collide
Accept misgivings
Tried and tied
(My words, my sentence)
Miles and steel
Can't come between us
Now they've seen us
(How we've changed! And)
Endless/dreamless
(Stayed the same and)
Rearranged
Our Things and dreams
(And far aways)
(And breaking seams)
And misty princess
Endless kiss
Encounter/chance
Forever/bliss

[Lew]

i took choices
over chances
how else can
one know
the basis
of their fancies?
there is more
than spice
and cream
that covers
the cake
or fills
in between
if sleeping beauty
isn't your speed
or playing
pretend does not
meet your need
speak the truth
and you will be freed
is it not
long past time
to confess
to your deed?

carpe freedom
may 10 2015

k.d.

[Lew]

oh yes, my darling
yes, my dear
rain does have a smell
and it is clear
much like its colour
wet bubbly spheres.
yes, you can hear it
as it sings its
way down
through the soil
carving hard ground.
it calls to the ocean
its laughter sounds like bells
and it dances like a rainbow
all through your cells.
water is alive,
my baby love,
floating in clouds
or melting on your glove.
water is life
my little heart,
we all fluttered in it
right from the start.

i know scent
may 11 2015

k.d.

[elevenism]

Lew it's been a long time since i checked this thread.

i REALLY like the one about water and rain.

[Lew]

@Lew (http://www.echoingthesound.org/community/member.php?u=473) it's been a long time since i checked this thread.

i REALLY like the one about water and rain.
elevenism...:) you just made my year. thank you! i wrote if for my 8 year old, after we had a disagreement about whether or not water had a smell. :) (lol, he just phoned as i was typing this to try and lobby to have a rated m game, "to keep safe until i am older. there is only one copy". lol. no dice, kid, but nice try). again, thanks for liking it! i often worry that my poetry is too rhyme-y. <3

[elevenism]

thanks for liking it! i often worry that my poetry is too rhyme-y. <3

you don't have to thank me for liking it brotha. I like it because it's GOOD! you can't choose to like something. :) But i'm damned glad i "made your year!" I'd like to read more!

And as far as poems being to rhymey, i remember one of my "ultra-hip" friends telling me "dude, you still read poetry that RHYMES?"
Fuck that shit man. The whole idea that good poetry doesn't rhyme is idiotic.

For me, a big part of poetry is the "melody" of the words, you know? And a good rhyme scheme is often a good way to help create the "melody."

Some of my work has VERY intricate rhymes (i dreamed she never left me and that nothing ever changed and that the cloud in which she kissed me never burst into the rain continues falling calling softly sweetly whispering my name i try to rise in vain but still i'm crawling hoping that i'm sane,) for instance.

And my favorite poets, Emily Dickenson and ee cummings-their work rhymed.

As for what i worry about, i worry that my stuff is too much of a straight-up cummings rip off.

[allegro]

I'm a Shakespeare sonnets girl. What kind of stupid uneducated heathen thinks good poetry doesn't rhyme? Shoot them lest they breed.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrarchan_sonnet

----

To Milton
~

Milton! I think thy spirit hath passed away
From these white cliffs and high-embattled towers;
This gorgeous fiery-coloured world of ours
Seems fallen into ashes dull and grey,
And the age changed unto a mimic play
Wherein we waste our else too-crowded hours:
For all our pomp and pageantry and powers
We are but fit to delve the common clay,
Seeing this little isle on which we stand,
This England, this sea-lion of the sea,
By ignorant demagogues is held in fee,
Who love her not: Dear God! is this the land
Which bare a triple empire in her hand
When Cromwell spake the word Democracy!

- Oscar Wilde

[Lew]

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.

[wizfan]

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.

[allegro]

Bravo, wizfan

Ya sou!!

[wizfan]

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/gallery/24782518/wizpoetry

[elevenism]

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.

[Lew]

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.

[Lew]

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

[Lew]

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

[halloween]

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".

[elevenism]

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.

[Lew]

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

[Lew]

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.

[Lew]

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. :)

[Lew]

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...)

[Lew]

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.

[elevenism]

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.

[Lew]

frustration is frustration, sweet el.. @elevenism (http://www.echoingthesound.org/community/member.php?u=2475)
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?

[define]

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.

[Lew]

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


http://i65.tinypic.com/o94d3l.jpg

*this* blue is my azurite. and yes, i wrote a love song to it and for it. a simple and valuable love.

[Lew]

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)

[Lew]

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

[elevenism]

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

[iamclassic]

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

[Bachy]

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.