write a really WEIRD poem

[blp]

Please put this somewhere else, unless you wrote it of course. I recommend the Poems, Poets, and Poetry thread if you want help to interpret a poem that someone else has written. This thread is for people to post weird poems of their own.

And generally not get much feedback. If you did write it and you want feedback, best to make a thread for it all to itself in the main bit of the personal poetry section.

[SleepyWitch]

oh my, you guys have been really prolific while I lazed around. Will read all your weird poems later on.

[firefangled]

Hawthorn — I take my brother back to his building.
It’s all beige stone and steel,
a small garden, maybe from saved seeds,
cucumber and watermelon,
the green vine outside the entry door,
planted, the way a thief hides a jewel,
but the sun finds it and sends a small light
into the room, like a distant star, as if to say,
grow so death can find you, or be lost before you begin.

[firefangled]

I've been saving these a long time, thus their wrinkled appearance drycleaning could not remove. -ff


At the Summit Meeting

We had two
Alsatian Buckhorn bedimmed,
emphasized grumble-colloquia
and the marvelous results.

The boys must be blind,
to the perfection of the arrangements,
shamefaced Cinderella from Cinerama,
obvious and simple, disco parapsychology.

To me, to overlook such a labile,
some pipes and five pounds of smoking tobacco,
assure or suggest that the congress
dictate proper replacements.


Willing to Travel

I’ve heard a lot about you…
We have all forgotten
more than we remember.
Parthenogenesis, you think,
or secure data transmission?

Join Now! Lonely housewives
want to cheat, another doorway.
Tired of yourself?
What’s inside?
We have one day passes for $1.

[blp]

I don't know how I even ate the first one
and this one's even bigger.
(At least the jam wasn't too difficult to open.)
But please, is it really expedient
to do it this way, and with all parts
still so clear and harmonically lucid––
as in some murderous battle
of hop-o-my-thumb,
strategically led
by five-finger technique--
I'm gagging on it, the pure retch
brought on
by the perfect spherical object
so beloved of the romantics.
Those bastards.
What did they know about
swallowing one's own compositions?
Nothing. But at least they wouldn't begrudge a fellow
a drop of water.

[Dark Muse]

Pulse!
a heart beat
Pulse!
sound of rhythm
Pulse!
blood streams
Pulse!
a sign of life
Pulse!
a rushing force

a heart beat
sound of rhythm
blood streams
sign of life
a rushing force

It can all end in a

Pulse!

[Dark Muse]

Different parts of a flower
all lined up
in rows from
a-z
arrayed
for the eye to see
from Azalea petals
to Zinnia leaves
anther
calyx
filament
ovary and ovule
peduncle holding up
the petals
sepal
stigma and style
these are the things
when pieced together
create such budding beauty
while dissected apart
make Latinous dribble.

[firefangled]

Nice one DM. I'm not so sure it's weird at all. It's really quite true.

[kiz_paws]

I love this thread. I think that the Weird Poems are awesome!

[Dark Muse]

Nice one DM. I'm not so sure it's weird at all. It's really quite true.

Hehe thank you

[firefangled]

in which I fall asleep,
in the field behind my house.

eventually they call it vacant,
the locust tree root—
black in a world of color—
pushes up the sidewalk,
leading to the street.

the man in the movie speaks
like Montgomery Clift,
he looks through my eyes,
so he cannot see me

and there are no mirrors
in the world unless I wake.

[Silas Thorne]

He plays the sonnet, held tight to his breast,
earnestly waiting for those who know best.
There shakes the feather, held down on the ground:
'let me free!, let me free!',
yet the thoughts had no sound.

Would that I could, eat a trick of the light,
Then we would be alright,
Then my thoughts would run free.

[Silas Thorne]

Different parts of a flower
all lined up
in rows from
a-z
arrayed
for the eye to see
from Azalea petals
to Zinnia leaves
anther
calyx
filament
ovary and ovule
peduncle holding up
the petals
sepal
stigma and style
these are the things
when pieced together
create such budding beauty
while dissected apart
make Latinous dribble.

Great!
This is my favorite poem of yours, Dark Muse. The last lines really hit home.

[blp]

in which I fall asleep,
in the field behind my house.

eventually they call it vacant,
the locust tree root—
black in a world of color—
pushes up the sidewalk,
leading to the street.

the man in the movie speaks
like Montgomery Clift,
he looks through my eyes,
so he cannot see me

and there are no mirrors
in the world unless I wake.

This is totally ace.

[blp]

Illustrated phone book phonetic abridged
 computers

Had win, canopy      digest    clogged ventricle             it is


livid mentions in the popular press 
                 sexualised outrage spattering the pages
           Swindon train station car park,   
matches, cigarettes, fried breakfast


O veil of tears                  populated by 
         Nazi sympathisers, obese            wild-eyed Christian funny-mentalists,

flecks of spit                    landing on their loved ones,

                   and members of the 

automotive association,              Top Gear on, glued to the screen, 
bringing on coronary arrest, slapping their knees, kids around, tying nooses

for pedestals.