Poetry

[Nox_Noctis]

Okay, I write an awful lot of random stuff - poems, story (plot or storyboard) ideas, etc. - and after writing a rather light-hearted one recently, decided to post it. It turned out there did not appear to be a topic of this already, so post your poems here:


Here's one of mine (no revisions yet, mostly because I don't care that much about it, but also because I just wrote it earlier today):

Oh, silly little centipede
Scurrying about, to and fro',
Across the carpet.
With one fell swoop,
I end your life.
But what if giants came
And descended upon us
From the sky and extinguished us?
Oh, how terrifying a notion
That I dismiss before I sleep


This is in response to a random thought that popped into my head. A lot of people philosophize that we should not kill beings beneath us because of the "eye for an eye" idea, that we should "do unto others as we would have others do unto us." Of course, the idea that beings much larger than us physically would or will come and eradicate us (or even just playfully kill us, like we do to insects) is mostly ridiculous because extremely large animals exist under limited conditions (because it takes a lot to circulate blood through a large animal) and, at least as far as we have seen, tend to have much more limited brain function than us.

Of course, at the same time, the idea that extra-terrestrials or other highly advanced beings might wipe us out is plausible. But at the same time, I just don't care that much. That's what was behind this poem. Also, I wanted an excuse to use diminutives (little centipede) and I also recently smashed a centipede with the television remote a few nights ago (seriously, those little poisonous bastards shouldn't be in the house; I don't care that they don't understand the concept of home ownership or territory and trespassing).

Anyway, come, criticize, post your own poems, let's get some creative expression going!

[yellowdingo]

Me published Poet...

Wash Day

Its Bathtime. Get in the Tub.
Get in now! Dont want too.
Steps in tub and Shrieks.
Effing hell that bugger is hot.
The water near boiling hot.
Shut up and sit still.
Soap block hits head.
It is like a sheet of sandpaper.
Skin scraped raw as the lather builds.
Suds hit me in the face.
Oh god the Soap It burns.
Shut up and hold still.

15/7/2008

[Stratovarius]

One Man

I walk across the land with heavy tred
A stepping stone that all must dread
A terrain so barren and so bare
that nothing could ever dare
To live in a place so cold and so dim
Hidden as it is, from the light of them

I am here, as I must be
A wanderer through terrain
As shattered as me
The last man I am
Of a long dying race
I am all that remains
Left here in this place

A monument to power so total and great
That all that it surveys, has suffered its fate
To be stricken and lost from all hist’ry books
Burned out and bent, a land filled with crooks
Scavengers and beasts and all things of men
Lying wrecked and ruined, in the sight of them
As do still live, and walk on the Earth
A wasteland of brown, stripped of all mirth

I walk alone, striding through the dust
Blowing and blowing, for all day it must
It is the sands, the sands of a clock
For we hear the tick, the tick and the tock
Tolls great ring out, the whole human race
Has heard one last chime, and death it must face.

I generally don't bother revising the poetry I write. Should I ever try and publish it, that would change, of course. Mine is generally dark in tone, as is most of the works I've done. Just happens that's where what little talent I have lies.

[SixthDeclension]

I wrote these for school for a poetry project. I got a "A"

Utopia
Wasteland
Utterly Inhospitable
Life is Over
Sky Blue Fades Grey
No Faces on City Streets
There is Nothing Left
Only Me There
My Paradise
Alone

Rantings of a Young Man
Our roads are ridden
Out of a cell into this darkened space
Our needy neighbors
Old men...

Out in this desert we are testing bombs
Our sobbing must be heard
Our roads are ridden
Out of the night that covers me

A Poem
Sitting, thinking hard
Trying go write a poem
Finally, I'm done

[Nox_Noctis]

One Man
[...]

I generally don't bother revising the poetry I write. Should I ever try and publish it, that would change, of course. Mine is generally dark in tone, as is most of the works I've done. Just happens that's where what little talent I have lies.

I like it. Most of my poetry is rather "dark" or "bleak" as well, with a few tinged with some note of persevering hope within the world. It comes much more easily than "happy" poetry, in my opinion.

Anyway, I'm glad people are actually posting (one of my friends started something like this on Facebook and it failed horribly).

Here's another one of mine (an acrostic):

One-Winged Angel
Only he can know
Now that he has fallen
Every heartache
With which we are all born
Indefinite pain
Not meant for this world
Gouges out his soul
Erupting in a flash of misery
Despair consumes him
And he falls into darkness
Never to return
Grasping for the light
Enduring his humanity
Longing to return

My English teacher in my Senior year suggested that I revise it for a contest and make it something other than acrostic. I tried that and hated the result. It felt cheap, like the meaning was stripped away, leaving it a bare mesh of senseless words. When I changed it around so that it didn't start with the letters of One-Winged Angel, it seemed less potent. I think I picked the right words the first time. They're jarring and cruel words. They're very absolute in a negative sense (only, indefinite, never, grasping, enduring, longing).

And, yes, it is, in part, a reference to Satan of Biblical writing. I also feel that it draws a close relation between Satan and mankind (which was my intent, to invoke a sort of pity and disgust at the forces responsible for ejecting this being, who only wants to find home [a very innocent ideal]).

[lotofsnow]

Many winters gone,
I wrote what now could be lost,
Likely forgotten.

[Sinfire Titan]

I have a Deviants account with mostly poetry on it. I've even made my own style (the inverted Sestinas). I'm not popular, but there are a few people who know my screenname.

[lotofsnow]

Ah, sestinas.

I wrote a pantoum once. It was about coffee. Or was it Guinness? Maybe it was both.

[Nox_Noctis]

I've written acrostics, sestinas, pantouns, diamantes, limericks, free verses, cinquains, haikus, an ode, poems written in rhyming iambic pentameter couplets, and been exposed to a large number of others... My seventh and twelfth grade "Core" and English teachers were pretty crazy...  :couch

Most of my own personal poems are free verse though. I just love throwing thoughts onto a piece of paper to capture raw and un-distilled ideas.

[Stratovarius]

I've never really bothered with styles of any sort, I just write what I like and see how it comes out. Like the guy below. Look for a book by the same title, written 30 years ago.

Riding the Torch
I live within many things
but shrink from all but one
I live within one lone land
My mind encompasses the sun
I am a tale of many parts
I play but one of them
I see within an endless void
A thing that I become

I float along an endless wave
A knowledge that succumbs
To love and woe and pain and fright
All protection from the night
For hidden in my dreams I go
A home where few can follow
For hidden within my mind I see
A refuge from eternity