the silent x
05-08-2007, 09:45 PM
please comment, constructively slam, what ever it is you want to prrof these two poems
The Living Ghost
All alone in a crowded room,
Isolated by all
Accepting his doom
Multiple acquaintances, short and tall
Look through him like at a ghost
Look through him at the wall
Invisible in everyday apparel
Refrain
And every Friday night,
He dresses black with a mask of night
And as his gloved fingers dance
Over guitar strings
His sounds piercing like a lance
He screams his hate and rage
Through the speakers to the cheering throng
And now he realizes
He is still not seen
During the intermission
He undergoes fission
The lead singer stays in back,
While the person behind the mask
Goes about a personal task
Slipping silently through the crowd
He knew he still had his invisibility shroud
Refrain
And every Friday night,
He dresses black with a mask of night
And as his gloved fingers dance
Over guitar strings
His sounds piercing like a lance
He screams his hate and rage
Through the speakers to the cheering throng
And now he realizes
He is still not seen
He dons his face for the last time,
Hiding his mask under it
Upon leaving the stage his body collapses
With a flutter of falling clothing
His face and gloves fall away
Revealing nothing
Nothing to cast the slightest shadow
The Unbridled Flood of Power
I want strength
I want fire to blossom in my hand
I want power
To turn my enemies to sand
I want ferocity
To instill fear, in those so weak to cause fear in me
I want invincibility
To bring out the best in me
I want knowledge
To keep many forces at bay
I want stealth
To assassinate my foes while they’re unwittingly
Playing into my hand
Because I am bound by unseen chains,
twisting and tightening their grip around me
they all seek to control me,
why is their beast of burden me?
All I know right now is,
They fear me,
with all sincerity
they hate me
they hate me
and they want me to die
but let me tell you what
I’m am up here standing on this stage,
Tearing apart these chains with my strength
Burning them with my power
Drowning them as the tidal waters flow
With my phrases and metaphors so
Suffocating them in their own literal inadequacy
Speedily releasing my power into them
that they might know how dangerous my weapons of war have become,
burying them under any sort of literature possible.
Undying,
Much knowing,
Forcing them forward their fear showing,
Because there is a monster inside me,
he is hibernating,
waiting
watching as I grow
that one day my words will throw
the world into a state of passion
like a classical song
rising,
thrashing,
pulling those from their seats that may be able to see colors unseen
think in thoughts flowing through time that are too complex to be thought
speak in tongues undying, yet still gone
hear more than music,
apply their full energy potential into that one part
just before the crescendo
when feelings run strong,
swords, guns, and stones lie useless
as the roaring tumult of undying power washes over them
as if they would use all of their last energy to show what they hear
to let the world feel their undaunted power
so that the world will want what it cannot have
to put everything they own into that last crescendo
to hear
to see
to feel the music
The Living Ghost
All alone in a crowded room,
Isolated by all
Accepting his doom
Multiple acquaintances, short and tall
Look through him like at a ghost
Look through him at the wall
Invisible in everyday apparel
Refrain
And every Friday night,
He dresses black with a mask of night
And as his gloved fingers dance
Over guitar strings
His sounds piercing like a lance
He screams his hate and rage
Through the speakers to the cheering throng
And now he realizes
He is still not seen
During the intermission
He undergoes fission
The lead singer stays in back,
While the person behind the mask
Goes about a personal task
Slipping silently through the crowd
He knew he still had his invisibility shroud
Refrain
And every Friday night,
He dresses black with a mask of night
And as his gloved fingers dance
Over guitar strings
His sounds piercing like a lance
He screams his hate and rage
Through the speakers to the cheering throng
And now he realizes
He is still not seen
He dons his face for the last time,
Hiding his mask under it
Upon leaving the stage his body collapses
With a flutter of falling clothing
His face and gloves fall away
Revealing nothing
Nothing to cast the slightest shadow
The Unbridled Flood of Power
I want strength
I want fire to blossom in my hand
I want power
To turn my enemies to sand
I want ferocity
To instill fear, in those so weak to cause fear in me
I want invincibility
To bring out the best in me
I want knowledge
To keep many forces at bay
I want stealth
To assassinate my foes while they’re unwittingly
Playing into my hand
Because I am bound by unseen chains,
twisting and tightening their grip around me
they all seek to control me,
why is their beast of burden me?
All I know right now is,
They fear me,
with all sincerity
they hate me
they hate me
and they want me to die
but let me tell you what
I’m am up here standing on this stage,
Tearing apart these chains with my strength
Burning them with my power
Drowning them as the tidal waters flow
With my phrases and metaphors so
Suffocating them in their own literal inadequacy
Speedily releasing my power into them
that they might know how dangerous my weapons of war have become,
burying them under any sort of literature possible.
Undying,
Much knowing,
Forcing them forward their fear showing,
Because there is a monster inside me,
he is hibernating,
waiting
watching as I grow
that one day my words will throw
the world into a state of passion
like a classical song
rising,
thrashing,
pulling those from their seats that may be able to see colors unseen
think in thoughts flowing through time that are too complex to be thought
speak in tongues undying, yet still gone
hear more than music,
apply their full energy potential into that one part
just before the crescendo
when feelings run strong,
swords, guns, and stones lie useless
as the roaring tumult of undying power washes over them
as if they would use all of their last energy to show what they hear
to let the world feel their undaunted power
so that the world will want what it cannot have
to put everything they own into that last crescendo
to hear
to see
to feel the music