svelte Posted November 30, 2004 Posted November 30, 2004 i started this thread over at chilax, and thought it should continue over here. so, here are some of my old stuff...everyone feel free to post their prose/poetry some old journal/book entries: “It's 2:20am and I can't sleep. I can feel my bones creaking like old pipes filled with water. I don't know what my bones are filled with that is making them creak so much. Or why they're creaking. Or why I'm paying attention to it all of a sudden. I bet that they've been creaking for years and I just now noticed them. All I know is that I can't sleep because my bones are creaking and I pay so much attention to shit like that…” “The floor tiles were moving…off the floor and back to the floor, left to right and acting like waves. I saw those dots again. They were everywhere. I was standing in a sea of those constantly moving dots. A sea of constantly moving dots in the lunch line. I'm scared…What if… the floors everywhere start moving and nothing is stable and I turn into the man in Munch's painting and my face melts into my skull and all I'm left with are violent screams? What if Mike and Lisa are just like Munch’s two friends and they are the only stable things in my life? Maybe one day… they'll tell me that they just can't be friends with someone like me. Then they'll turn from me and walk away, leaving me all alone with my melted face and violent screams.” “Eyes don't always work properly. Sometimes they're compromised by...something. Something gets in the way. That something isn't black, it's clear. Clear and spacey and it makes me lightheaded. It doesn't prevent me from seeing, but it prevents me from seeing accurately. People get, big and normal and big and then back to normal and I grab my eyes because they focus on the wrong things or the play games on me and it hurts.” “Time really isn't time if it disappears, is it? Last night, time wasn't. From 1am to 5am there was no time. I was awake, but I didn't do anything. Time managed to elude me. I'm not sure what I did for that piece of time which wasn't time…I was sitting on my bed, looking at my reflection which wasn't my reflection in the mirror. I realize that any time I've ever looked in the mirror, I've never seen the reflection as my own…Something's missing from me. At some point, I found myself lying on my back on my bed, unable to breathe...all of my weight came down on my lungs and transformed itself into a boa-constrictor and was trying to take out my breath via asphyxiation. Frightened, I remember feeling my eyes become large with what else but fear. I remember feeling very frightened. A few moments later I had caught my breath and a sudden feeling of weightlessness. Almost as if the weight that was choking me before was now absent from my body which wasn't a body and seemed to be floating. I knew I wasn't floating, but I also knew I wasn't weightless.” Quote
Legion Posted December 2, 2004 Posted December 2, 2004 I recently found an old journal from when I was going through a really bad time... It is not something that I would ever post though... Quote
[solo] Posted December 2, 2004 Posted December 2, 2004 Roses are Red Violets are Blue All of my Base Is Belong to YOU. Roses are Red Violets are Blue This line doesn't rhyme and neither does this.' roses are red violets are blue in soviet russia poems write you I take full credit for all of those.. alright maybe i dont Quote
Legion Posted December 2, 2004 Posted December 2, 2004 All your base... base.. baseAll your baseAre belong to us. Quote
KingSupra Posted December 6, 2004 Posted December 6, 2004 Into the emptiness I go. It is dark and were it leads I do not know.It attracts me into it with obessions, and feeds emotions. The first to leave is my happiness. Sadness is next to go. Then goes my anger. What I am left with are few emotions. Depression, sorrow, and fear. They soon leave too. Now what am I left with? Nothing. Nothing but Emptiness Quote
Guest quasicartes Posted March 14, 2005 Posted March 14, 2005 A PoemYou've Got To Love PoetryHe laid her on the table,So white, clean and bare.His forehead wet with beads of sweat,He rubbed her here and there.He touched her neck and then her breast,And then, drooling, felt her thigh.The slit was wet and all was set,He gave a joyous cry.The hole was wide... he looked inside,All was dark and murky.He rubbed his hands and stretched out his arms,And then he stuffed the turkey. Quote
doctor_d Posted May 23, 2005 Posted May 23, 2005 hopin for the bestbut im fearing the worstim on the edgefeels like im gonna burstneed to get it off my chestput it all out therethen maybe i can restonly hope is that youll careive waited so longkept everything on the insidenow the wait is almost overand my eyes are opened widewaiting for that calljust remembering the timewhen i met you at the mallthen my phone ringsi wonder if it could be trueand my heart skips a beatbut i see its not you^^thats pretty much how i feel right now...how is it? ive never showed anyone anything ive written before...so be kind Quote
doctor_d Posted May 26, 2005 Posted May 26, 2005 yet another poem...dont know if i like it as much as the other but here it isThe WaitMy nights become longerIts as if time stands stillAnd this wait is taking a tollAs it has me feeling ill.Nothing to do but sit hereAs my mind brings thoughts,Thoughts of what might beAnd it puts my stomach in knots.For all i can do is hopeThat you will come to meThat you will want to be togetherBut i am forced to wait and see.And now you dont respondNow i start questioningAsking what ive done wrongBut as i think i find nothing.So im left here in the darkLeft here to contemplateTo question every moveOn this very long wait. Quote
*GiPsY_grl* Posted May 29, 2005 Posted May 29, 2005 Those are both very nice, Doctor_dI'll post one of mine later, at least if i'm able to translate it <_< Quote
doctor_d Posted July 13, 2005 Posted July 13, 2005 a thing ive learnedfrom my own experiencefrom times i crashed and burnedis that girls dont want nice guys.They whine and cryAbout what they wantAbout finding that nice guyBut theyve already found him.They dissmissed him as just a friendAnd use him for when theyre downBecause his loyalty to her will not bendBut she does not care.She chooses the the bad guywho ends up hurting herShe runs to the nice guyWho listens and comforts her.She thinks hes always going to be thereBut chances are he wonthell see how she doesnt really careAnd he will leave.So im telling you girls to open your eyesFor the one who youve been "looking" forIs right there, but you dont realizeThat youve pushed him away by not caring. Quote
Jimmy Changa Posted March 19, 2006 Posted March 19, 2006 Not sure if I should resurect this thread or not but since I'm drunk I havent the restraint to deside not to...or whatever... umm anyway.... I added a poem to a page of poetry i write regarding one particular person in my life. Someone who maybe should no longer be in my life...hell i dunno.http://www.planetburrito.com/sally.html Quote
Monkey Posted March 19, 2006 Posted March 19, 2006 A PoemYou've Got To Love Poetry He laid her on the table, So white, clean and bare. His forehead wet with beads of sweat, He rubbed her here and there. He touched her neck and then her breast, And then, drooling, felt her thigh. The slit was wet and all was set, He gave a joyous cry. The hole was wide... he looked inside, All was dark and murky. He rubbed his hands and stretched out his arms, And then he stuffed the turkey. That is simply priceless. Quote
mylovelyangel Posted March 22, 2006 Posted March 22, 2006 My Lovely AngelSecret memoirs filled with words beckoning to reach my beauty of the heavens.I collapse in the midst of lonesome empathy in quest for your love and discretion.Beloved kisses leave shades of rose covering my cheeks in divine inscription.Tears from my sheltered eyes harass the earth, masking my unbreakable conviction.Hands left wrapped in russet waves part the sea, once in view I see the light.I gaze at a smile so radiant the brilliance engulfs the gloom and enslaves the night.Love flows steadily through the veins hitting the heart without the slightest restraint.Patches of flora encircle my brittle limbs in the wake of this heavenly Saint.Elevated high, we bathe in the billows while she cleanses my tainted essence.Swallowed, I bask in the love and compassion of this seraph and marvel in her presence.She guides me back to grace but never from her do I receive the declaration, "Farewell"For reborn I am, forever enclosed in the wings of my lovely Angel.Forth ComingsCan you hear my panting breath echoing through the azure?No more days of sorrow will the feeble remnants endure?They both collide collectively structuring a haunting moan.The reverberation is of horror akin to a stone devastating bone.The stench of death crawls down serving your heart with deceit.Your stomach twists like a torso, suffering an undesired defeat.Heaven witness' the fall, yet revolve its head in the company of Thee.The decision to deny grace leaves you broken and alone with the amorous plea.Will my tragedy leave me drowning choking in this crimson torrent forever?I entreat for mercy, save me from the scar of this inexcusable endeavor. Quote
tinky Posted August 18, 2006 Posted August 18, 2006 ^so nice some of my favs; the man had killed the thing he loved, and so he had to die. yet each man kills the thing he loves, by each let this be heard, some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word. the coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword! some kill their love when they are young, and some when they are old; some strangle with the hands of lust, some with the hands of gold: the kindest use a knife, because the dead so soon grow cold some love too little, some too long, some sell and others buy; some do the deed with many tears, and some without a sigh: for each man kills the thing he loves, yet each man does not die. he does not die a death of shame on a day of dark disgrace, nor have a noose about his neck, nor a cloth upon his face nor drop feet foremost through the floor into an empty space. ------------------------------------------------ out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on the cross by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories and is much kinder than the last, much much kinder, and the sex is just as good or better. it isn't pleasant to be put on the cross and left there, it is much more pleasant to forget a love which didn't work as all love finally doesn't work ... it is much more pleasant to make love along the shore in Del Mar in room 42, and afterwards sitting up in bed drinking good wine, talking and touching smoking listening to the waves ... I have died too many times believing and waiting, waiting in a room staring at a cracked ceiling wating for the phone, a letter, a knock, a sound ... going wild inside while she danced with strangers in nightclubs ... out of the arms of one love and into the arms of another it's not pleasant to die on the cross, it is much more pleasant to hear your name whispered in the dark. Charles Bukowski Quote
LaffyTaffy Posted September 3, 2006 Posted September 3, 2006 hopin for the bestbut im fearing the worst im on the edge feels like im gonna burst need to get it off my chest put it all out there then maybe i can rest only hope is that youll care ive waited so long kept everything on the inside now the wait is almost over and my eyes are opened wide waiting for that call just remembering the time when i met you at the mall then my phone rings i wonder if it could be true and my heart skips a beat but i see its not you ^^thats pretty much how i feel right now...how is it? ive never showed anyone anything ive written before...so be kind Oh, my.. I love this. This is kind of how I'm feeling at the moment. Quote
Jimmy Changa Posted September 15, 2006 Posted September 15, 2006 The Gasp Before The Fall9/12/06 - by Jimmy ChangaA moment spent without regardbut simply absorbed in purityCould be a second or a yeartime lost to passion's surityWith love's plunge in viewheeding the edge's callThey inhale their fears and takethe gasp before the fall Quote
midnight lady Posted November 7, 2006 Posted November 7, 2006 I'm not a good poem writer(what am I talking ,I 'm a very bad poem writer)but here is one that wrote one of my friends: Sin or crime? By Sem 1:08 p.m. 12/III/2006The mirror shattered into piecesMy heart broken in two piecesHis spirit resting in peaceI Quote
AnaBB Cover Posted January 3, 2007 Posted January 3, 2007 I used to hate poetry but now I kind of like it but I still hate gothic poetry. Quote
Ange Posted January 3, 2007 Posted January 3, 2007 I used to hate poetry but now I kind of like it but I still hate gothic poetry. what is gothic poetry? Quote
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