Hello. In addition to writing short stories, I'm also a poet! 99% of the poetry I write ends up on here. All of these poems are in chronological order. So the poem in this post is pretty much the first poem I've ever written with some level of severity. You'll probably notice my style changes and matures over the course of this thread. Feel free to leave critique, comments, or even like a post if there's a poem in it you really like. I also really really REALLY LOVE when people tell me what they think my poems are about.
If you see tildes (~~~~), that is a separation of poems within the same post. There's no correlation and they aren't the same poem.
I sit here inside my house
And I don't mind the solitude.
Who could find peace in a world
Whose pace is as of mold?
Certainly I don't care to fold
The cards I find that sooth my soul
Why make my mind feel the anguish
Of a lone and soulless world?
Just a few quick words about Spirit even though you posted it ages ago...
It caught my attention the way you described the world going at a mold's pace. This can be either slow (macroscopic motion) or rapid (reproduction) depending on the perspective you take. Then you mention the solitude in the house, and yet the world outside is lonely - two connotations of the same situation. Quite a bit of room for thought in that little poem there...
First new poem: You drew a distinction between stars and other bodies. My interpretation is that the narrator is an optimist and an idealist. More contrasting images - a maze is filled, an abyss is empty. The narrator I thought was an optimist drew a picture of cold, dark space after the uplifting opening stanza. I love the duality in the third stanza and how you inverted the last two lines. Here he seems to possess objectivity. Then we come to the last stanza... he could've had me fooled! The narrator is actually a cynic. And who better to recite this poem than a narrator as paradoxical as the universe itself?
Second poem: I find it vague and mysterious like Veyrael said. I don't really know how else to describe it, but the narrator sounds very trusting to me.
Thank you very much, Szerenade. Really, I appreciate you took time to read my poems and interpret them. Very cool.
Anyway, I wrote a couple more today. In one I tried my hand at some freeform poetry. If anyone reading is going to comment on a poem, I'd really appreciate you doing so on the first one. These are all without a title, by the way.
A glimpse of
beyond the threshold
did you see?
I saw you
Staring absentmindedly you ponder
life and living and
take for granted the luxuries
fate has chose to give
Blink and see a
split second of truth
the final destination
I've much to discuss
and I'm in a rush
Indulge me now
blink and never wake
Is that you in the dress
whose hair curls into a mess?
wounded on your heel I see
feeling pain through the seam
Talk and listen silent you are
speak and hear your mind is shut
please release I'm not relieved
I'd give my kingdom for your dreams
I find myself very curious about the narrator of the first poem in this latest batch - I can't quite fathom him. In the lines "Staring absentmindedly you ponder/life and living and/take for granted the luxuries/fate has chose to give", the narrator seems to be a stern figure (chastising the "you" through word choice - "absentmindedly", "take for granted", "luxuries"). But by the last verse, you add a layer of complexity and humanity to the narrator - because he's in a rush, this gives me the impression that he has a life beyond eternal mysteries, and he's willing to take a moment out of it to help the "you" contemplate the idea of truth more clearly. I like how you emphasize a feeling of indulgence throughout the poem, by using "luxuries" and "Indulge me now", and I like, too, how you contrast the narrator and the "you" (one rushes, the other doesn't, but interestingly, it appears that the narrator has a firmer grasp of truth, or that "glimpse of/beyond the threshold" than the person who has actually stopped to contemplate it does).
You have a nice sense of rhyme. I particuarly enjoyed it in the last of these three poems: "I form/lifeless cities/vivid death/every matter/every breath" because not only do the words flow easily, but the ideas do as well. You go from a staccato "I wander/I roam/I absorb..." and transition to that which is formed (the "lifeless cities") so well.
"I'd give my kingdom for your dreams" - beautiful line.
Of your other poems, my favourite was the second untitled one of post #2. That last verse was excellent! I loved these lines: "So cloud my vision/begin incision" - the rhyme is crisp. And I like that feeling of interruption in the last two lines - it made me imagine a scene in a movie being cut off, abruptly, as it's being filmed - but it also brought to mind the abrupt end of something more final than a movie - a life. Yikes - that idea renders the first verse quite terrifying, suddenly!
Interestingly enough, I have no idea what a staccato is or what I did there! But again, thank you. I have to say, I'm honestly surprised how deep you took my first poem there. It was my first attempt at writing a freeform poem and I didn't expect someone would receive it so well. Honestly I just kinda let it go with the flow.
If any of you are curious, my favorite poet (and biggest inspiration for a good deal of things) is Jim Morrison. Here is some of his poetry. I wonder if any of him is showing up in my poetry? I think so.
This little guy came to me this morning like as soon as I woke up. Didn't want to bump the topic so I'm editing it in.
He and she were meant to be
He and she we all see
He and she minus me
He and she eternity
To all the people it may concern:
I've come to say your world is false
All that man has strived
to make has been
all in vain.
We have run our course.
He has decided we are here against
the laws of all things holy and
found a disgrace to our creators.
Yes - he lives within us all
manifesting humanity's fall
and now I stumble into his maw
Oh that godforsaken call
Ha! You are quite pretentious
always asking for redemptions
Ha! I am occupied with matters far beyond
answering that you find so fond.
To think you have the audacity
to raise yourself above the others.
Above the Luddites and
Ha! You are so unfitting.
Man walks into bar
"listen, I've gone crazy!" replied proprietor
Devil replies, "As am I".
Two rats exit asylum.
The monster creeps below the stairs
here is where it makes it's lair
children see a glimpse of red
now they know the mind is dead
The angel called to attention
all of those with intention
to save mankind from the rift
from the sun's dark eclipse
Severed from my father's tomb
trapped and scorched.
The torch brings the room to light
never again will I know sight.
Wander aimless through the trees
hear the call that we are free
society's chains have diminished
and our love far from finished
And as the wind breaks the tide
eons pass and heroes die
rock erodes and lands grow cold
here are memories never told
Here is my attempt at a song. I've goofed around a few times, but this is the first I've actually tried at.
Saw her standing by the mirror
like a bird freed from the wild north
Smiling at her perfect teeth
contagious to the folks she meets
mesmerized by her pleasing grace
found myself dazed by the queen
Eyes in flames and lips so sweet
grins showing only care
saw her walking by the mirror
Eyes shifted up on her and
they found paradise
Curiosity soon settled
time to lose it all
eyes locked up
Spirits lifted and
we were one
Eyes in flames and lips so sweet
passion racing and both so shared
Dainty stride hide all my fears
Eyes slowly shifted up her and we
I was never able to understand
the craze surrounding being sane
isn't it laughable?
Never enjoying sheer anarchy
or life's chaotic pleasure.
What's right is right
what's wrong is wrong
my plight to you has
gone too long.
Take this key; free yourself!
Be free with me! Free, free, free!
Here is where the angels weep
here is where the devils scare
this is when the greater win
this is when the lesser lose
Welcome, sir, guest of honor
Come experience this unknown horror
This is planet Earth you've seeked
Here is where the angels weep
An influence extending past the reach?
Tampering? Interfering the very ancient ritual
all existence has originated?
What? A blast?
Conscious permutations forming.
A sigh as the seed is excreted at alarming
velocity and grasped at equally alarming
velocity. The foundation of life screams.
Whistling. Pure euphoria previously cloaked.
The clothes have been removed.
Certainly some good stuff, I really appreciate your manner of sort of metaphorical comparisons, you do a good job of not making it seem contrived, which is sadly all too common with that style.
When it comes to using these as possible lyrics, trying to break out of the normal rules of rhyme. Rhyming on the first and third line is common but unnecessary in music. Further you should sometimes forget having to make something rhyme at all when you place it into music. They key is to make it musical and not so much lyrical at times. I'd be keen to hear these one day.
In this next batch I tried to get away from the typical rhyme scheme and tried to instead do freeform with good flow. At least the longer ones.
The malignant woman led the chant. Soon
black swirls swarmed the last of the
brave soldiers. Shrieks of agony plagued
the castle's forbidden walls. Amidst the
screams a loud cackle penetrated the
sound waves. The reaper appeared to
collect his tribute.
I can't do it today.
I'm afraid of the day
Ask and you shall
I was alive once.
But father would have none of that
The blind man sees no evil
The deaf man hears no evil
The mute man speaks no evil
But all men commit evil
Where am I?
Is this Earth?
Voice answers: yes
Hell isn't all it's cracked up to be
Maggots. The final straw.
The killer rose from the dead.
Gasping and clutching his axe he
lumbered into a town. Inside he
found the first: Alfred. It's too
late. Thwack. Mission complete. Alfred
took his place.
I still get the chills.
That was the day to end
all days. Back when I was
at peace. It comes so
suddenly, dear reader. Someday
we will meet. And you too
will catch death.
Why is it that
we gaze longingly at the moon
but shy away in pain at the sun?
one thing you always manage to get through in your poetry is this amazing sense of imagery. When you read it, you are less aware you are reading a poem and more aware of the scene being described. Great stuff man.
You're certainly a prolific writer! I feel like I'm reading a collection of short stories compressed into far fewer pages. Even the shortest poems of two lines are so poignant. No interpretation from me this time, but still enjoying your writing!
Unknown secrets of the long forgotten past.
Deeply entangled in the petrified forests
the wind whispers of valiant heroes and villains
who once annexed these ancient forests.
An aged, lonely vision of Utopia. A noble
prince who, through conquest, united lands
previously barbaric and uncivilized, lacking
in even tongue.
The sacred land safeguards itself in order to
protect the memoirs of scholars past. Truly
a magnificent - yet slightly morbid atmosphere
surrounds the forest. The quiet echoing of the trees
and lack of wildlife. Bushes sit imploringly waiting for
the slightest trace of forgotten lore. It will be here
amongst the elder trees that one will rise up.
Take a stand against the corruption and bring closure
to the injurious Armageddon
The thin veil is a seal between
the two polar opposites. Prerequisite
demands you face the keeper. Though
he spits the formula to cage his
green jewel, disregard and charge:
grin and victory. The snake defeated,
cast afire the white sphere of ignorance
and venture into nameless tundras.
The warmth of her
body could not
compare to a
nova in search
of searing flame
in deep winter frost
Stealth is a nonessential asset
in the slaughter of sheep
The incandescent diamond.
It can't die. I'd perish.
Please treasure no.
I can hear them
I've wondered about that gate for years.
It's been there for an eternity, it would
seem. Neighbors have no clue. Not
even the keeper, old Lou. In fact,
I always suspected he was one of them.
The ****er always had the key with him.
And luckily they never escaped.
The rumbles are slow but quickly
catch pace when in the face of placating
Slowly he read the aged texts
tasked to find the sacred word
Time stumbled inside his chest
A queer sound and then the sword
Listen to the madman
speak in his riddles.
Adorn the simple
blindfold and cease
Standing poised in a meadow's clearing
The Great Tree's leaves are nearing
the autumn's change. Nutrients glide
along the immaculate roots of life.
The trunk refuses to abide
and instead grows against the tide.
So prosper here mighty tree
live here in my company