I wrote most of this last year, then changed the end this year. This is probably mostly pretentious BS, I am not sure I don't tend to notice when I am pretentious. Please do comment though.
Falling down your face,
Wear them like scars of war,
But what do they show.
Is it worth it?
What do you see?
That causes life and death.
Is what without,
Or tenebrous lies.
Why do we want?
Do you want it?
For no reason,
Feel hate, need love, want anger, loose depression, find despondency, gain joviality, choose rejection, give empathy, make miserable, hide everything, reveal everything, steal satisfaction, break from gloomy, mend to glum, shake indifference, be emotive.
Last edited by Bandev; 14-04-2007 at 17:37.
Thanks for the faith but my other poetry defintiely isn't as emotive as this one.
I'll prove it.
At the tree tops
Spring sugar droplets,
Fruit of living labour.
Roots and stems, strong; soft,
Saw teeth, ripping flesh,
Its basis gives way,
If its roots are shallow.
Fruits may fall but bruise,
Still the reaper garners
Rewards of success.
Don’t disturb the malicious mistletoe.
oh My god!
I broke My nail.
Oh my god!
you broke My lip gloss.
I broke My iPod.
I used all your makeup, oops!
I forgot her birthday.
you forgot MY birthday.
I forgot her
I Broke My Glass!
Orange Moon Tonight
Moon peeks through the grey sky,
Sieves through Pupils’ glee,
Unearths what Moon needs,
Full and zealous haze,
Reassured, winks ‘Goodnight’.
Moon wakes drunken from Pupils’ haze,
Falling across the foggy stage
Eye blood-shot, like Sun’s in the days,
Collapses, to fall not into Atlas’ strong arms,
But into space,
To finally see what Sun sooner saw.
Through the beauty of Iris,
Pupil’s whore, into his darkest core,
Sun sprints across the sea of sky,
To lie under Night’s dark shawl.
Moon’s bright, no longer contained in night,
But to see eye to eye with wise Sun,
For just one night,
Gave Moon new, haunting light.
Scared to even crescent,
The shawl could no longer maintain
The dark, in Moon’s glaring bright.
Moon opened his eye,
Complete and white,
Moon whimper in the blinding glare
‘Leave me, I just want to go.”
But when Moon saw clearer,
The colours and dazzling delights of Iris
Took hold of Moon and drew Moon in.
Locked in Iris’ seductive power,
Moon blinked white and almost blue.
Sun saw red from white
When Pupil arrived.
Dark from colour,
Pupil and Iris would not
Entrap Sun, for Sun is wise.
But poor Moon was given red from white,
Was not full enough,
And became a prisoner to Pupil,
Only allowed to see in shades.
This(below) is the only one that comes close but its not finished
Cool water, strokes thee marble,
Claws into me, arousing my surface.
Upwards, the pearls oscillating, downwards,
Waterfalls, of the wire, glowing,
Thee release is nigh.
The frozen touch crests, my chest,
Last edited by Bandev; 29-04-2007 at 06:47.
Mainly piecemeal and decidedly lacking in semantic and semiotic cohesion, although 'Orange Moon Tonight' very nearly manages to be good. 'O!', however (and, ironically, the one entry which doesn't appear to obsess over 'depth'), is wonderfully angry and vehement and pithy and sarcastic (publishably so, provided a modicum of refinement), and exhibits a keen sense for cadence; and your line, "Don’t disturb the malicious mistletoe" bears an exquisite, almost poignant euphony which I thoroughly enjoyed (albeit in isolation from its context).
Regardless, you have potential. Obviously.
Last edited by Profesh; 20-04-2007 at 19:04.
Aww thankies HMS
I probably could have guessed that by the comment but did want to assume as my assumptions tend to be wrong
Last edited by Bandev; 07-05-2007 at 10:22.