Cosmonaut
Man
Mond is Welt
Head upon a page
Pincer cup caught
cough and collapse
Fingers fill out coverlet
Half knot
Half thought
Dream picture
brought
Thumbprint
whistles in doorway
Printable View
Cosmonaut
Man
Mond is Welt
Head upon a page
Pincer cup caught
cough and collapse
Fingers fill out coverlet
Half knot
Half thought
Dream picture
brought
Thumbprint
whistles in doorway
Along that line of
the valley, trees, the cats
muddy against the green and bloody
fangs, folded hands, businesslike about killing
curl into the cabin in a line like a trail of wriggling stones
fleas scattering along their backs.
Disappear into the ink-well
The think-well
The drink-well
The…the…
The…
Ah yes, the ink-well
Dip your self into it
Into the dark-ness
The stark-ness
The arch-ness
Of this great and present
Dark-ness
Indulge your captors
Dive into the deep-pit
The steep-pit
The sleep-pit
Bathe within the ink-well
You will never go else-where
Pulse-where
False-where
Let this night become you
The dark-ness
Ink-well
Deep-pit
Bathe in the beauty
Of this steep and endless night
Im literally smiling right now. that was uplifting. for i don't know why. its rhythm i think. Makes me wanna jive.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sarasvati21
Well, now I'm smiling, Mantis. thanks!
Oaf tofe cop glob betterment defense engine
satisfy hopgood
it is defy
or wettermet
fence guest
groomed for globulous an d so
in this house
wherefore 'tis desireth sothigoth
metiate mine manse sirrah
salve me
und Unterglaubengerrichtenspiese
Caress me
For I am bum.
Now isn't that weird despite the fact when I started writing it I didn't mean to write a strange poem such as this one? :pQuote:
Paranoia
Am I left with a lot of fortune
By some rich aunt I have never known?
Has he been dared to get me to say I love him
By his evil friends?
Did my sister ever dump him
Or did my brother ever had
Anything to do with his sister?
Did I ever hurt him so
That he wants to take tevenge?
His eyes that follow me
Everywhere I go
Why this they do?
Why does he say he loves me?
Why does he never leave me
When I tell him to?
How I hate him so
When he is right there beside me
Trying to listen to my thoughts?
Through this curtain which no one
Has ever dared to cross
Yet he has
And
For a reason
Behind me!
There he is!
in the heat
the blood drips down
and forms a shadow
of what once was
as the geizer blows
and creates a rain
that drips down
and creates a puddle
of what will be
and the river of snow
flows through the puddle
freezing the mix
into ice
and the sun beats down
creating a shadow
that burns through the ice
and boils the liquid
to nothing
- - -
weird enough for this thread?
telephones, smell it,
chocolate covered waffle cones,
musing muffled microphones,
muffle the sounds
strong bonds create,
after summers and winters pass,
ripe dates, capitulate,
warm midnight snacks
reading a book, look,
catching rays of dark,
not light,
on a hammock is where the pigeons fight,
right, left, is where the book is spread,
up, down, is where the book is fed,
everywhere, is where the books are read
look out, save the book, it's dead
are these books?
do they paint them red?
do read books,
it's not a fact,
stories never seen by children,
anymore,
it's in my head
In neptune’s kingdom under the sea
Napoleon and Arab discus long division
Of the multiples of ten
Where the whales swim in brine
Up above the ocean floor
As the slit eyed angels converse
About children and their purse
And the evil of longing for a cure
While temptation awaits the evil soul
Who died for goodness at his door
Tombs of marble encase the mind
Where the nazis sing in rhyme
As Cinderella sweeps the floor
To the beat of Casanova’s drum
From the shadows of the mind
Where the black riders steal time
And in the blood information
Flows down the drain
And the tempest roars the unholy name
As socialism weeps in the mansions of gold
I see you with a dollar and a cross
Burning bridges from distant shores
Where the rich are as vacant as a stoner’s eyes
When hope has all but died
Hear the voices of lost seamen
Drowning in prison of membrane
Where the beauty queen mocks the feeble attempt
Of the pre pubescent pensioner
With a pocket full of rice
Magic beans and farmers
Grow in this barren land
Where the wells have sprung a weak
And wet the child’s mind
And monkeys imported dance for fun
To the napalm rhythm of the sum
Of all the parts that make up the world
After is was destroyed to bring purity to us all
So join in the laughter of the fishermen
Still hoping for mermaids and chocolate friends
But in the still of the night
Moan in remorse
For the darkest hours
Are still yet to come
Quote:
Originally Posted by Chesterfield
Particularly fine. I'd suggest one change: full stop (period) after 'book', then line break and a line to itself for 'It's dead'.
Walled by your onion you will
be the prism of lusty fascinations
for stew, chowder, bolognese
primped with a powder
of noteworthy critical opinion
and nailed to a board
face down
dumped into a barrel of crabs
and taken to Moscow for a party.
So
therefore
given that your thesis is
still under consideration
by the elders of Freiburg
and you have been living among ice lollies
without reading a single word of what is printed on
the sticks
It behooves us to calmly ask
that you prepare the wood shavings without complaint
and hitchkike the rest of the way
to your own armpit.
I always though...
i always said..
i know where to find love..
I always though..
I always said..
I'll ready strong enough...
but some times
I though
I felt like i could give up
but you came and changed my whole world
I never felt like this before...
This feeling inside me
Is something i never experienced before
I don't want to let go of this feeling
It feels like it always been apart of me..
In my heart
In my head
It's so clear know
I'm some were i never been before
know i see what love actually really means...
It's in the smoke
the head
it cups your hale
and keeps it
Sinly in the cinders
From the start of cause
effect wriggles thought through haze
meandering a maze, a dumb concussion
unfelt and mismade.
Sticked off with a twisted custard balloon
Mordechai devoured his silicon chip
in a fit of coronary vacillation
and
putting his left foot in and his right foot out
stamped on a baby ladybird
chewed out an oleaginous bus conductor
and defected to Luxor
there to stare sphinx-like
over the sands.
Well beyond the shadows,
Roams your spirit
It is lurking around,
Looks desperate enough,
For something unknown
But you are still stunned,
And you still believe,
That never in this world,
You had left your GRAVE!
Little fur coats, mink collars
and lime green Jell-O
slimy mudwashed earthworms scream
to holes in the ceiling
Soap, with its distinctive sap
is suppurating on the
drip drip of
the tap
Pit pat
parenthetical to pop
parent party
please to lap
lip up, patty
pore perhaps.
Code:Yes she died
she died
yes she died
Who am I that she died
who am I
When she died
who am I
yes she died
Dark, I hope this poem doesn't have to do with your friend trying to commit suicide?
here's another weird one I just wrote. doesn't make too much sense, but I suppose that's what weird poems are all about?
he’s got himself a new set of eyes
maybe somewhat tentatively green
perhaps even for looking at people – straight -
except their upper halves still cling to
scarred reptile glass, broken sideways for defence
and a friend says he’s definitely not cute
but what’s the point and I hope it’s not,
I mean, I didn’t want to
I always wondered who…. and now I want
something different, rainbow-coloured,
like bubbly, pink blue and green, bauble-shiny
video-arcade butterflies
or
a dose of machine-gun bullets in my guts
to make me feel as long
can’t bleed
can’t love
as long as it don’t hurt
to make me feel
to make me miss
and life’s too long considering it’s so short,
“Who said you have to complicate it?”,
his smile’s gone with the statue-eyes
and I’m left to dream of barchan dunes
and trees of Milton Keynes – too many, 20 million –
and life’s too slim considering it’s so broad
when in the end
the fight was only with yourself
Thank you for your thoughts, and no the poem did not have to do with that. It was influenced by reading the works of Gertrude Stien.
down
down
down
down
i know
you are
going down
and down
you can't help
i have control
over you
since i wrote this
and not you
you have to go
down
down
down
down
wow
i feel
the power
of poetry
to let
us
down
down
down
down
own
wn
n
.
I want to curl up and die
but then I lie
I do not really wish to die
it is just the kind of thing
someone like me likes to say
though only in my head
where I put on my own plays
an audience of myself
let the rest of the world
think I am far more serious
you see, I seek not attention
for I wait
untill I am on the only one
looking
and then I suffer
alone
and in silence
but at my own comand.
here's another weird one I've just dashed down. need's revising, though :(
you caught me
"You’re being unfaithful."
soft voice - subconscience
- right in the middle - sensors go off late
- already there-
I’m allowed to read secretly under my blanket,
you said,
but not in the corridor like this
and I almost invited you there
layered like the katana
wrapped, folded in upon yourself
five thousand times around the inner core
you make me want to coil up -
a Roman in the dust
morph embryonically
your stomach - feet
androgynous infant
but this life’s run out of sleep
and my sculptured arms won’t let me crawl
or were they yours?
and sinews, calves that forgot how to walk
without running spit me back out
thud
ud
thud
ud
thud
dud
thud
ud
ud
towards an exhausted battle
twinkle twinkle little star
in my heart another scar
once upon a time i remember
falling asleep in her daddy's car
i often wonder
how you are
what you are
are you near
are you far
are you there?
he's made of milk and logic
and wiry gold, but not the blondish-yellow sort,
more like mineral salts, that's dyes for you,
and mostly greying
and blank unfeeling dragon-eyes
that slowly blink to say he is surprised
when he is not
but sometimes he can't find his room,
his feet go trip-trip-hop as he dances, skips,
stubborn, systematically, from one door to the next
and blushes when I tap his name on the door,
asking "Is that you?"
.......aaaargh, I guess that proves I've officially gone daft
Eyes half shut
wide awake
looking up to the sky
down below
on fallen wings
where shadows sing
just another game
moving round
the caracal
music rewinds
and plays again
it must be some sort of sign
something half-divine
while meaning nothing
but the sum
of the earth and the sky
beneath the shadows of the sun
where all souls go to die
but the end has just begun
where the beginning
is no more
another lasting breath
of smoke and mirrors
to play upon the walls
invisible dances
in these dusky halls
what do reflections matter
when they disappear
into gray marble
and the shimmering lake
drip
drop
tick-
tock-
rap-
a tap
it never stops
hear the pin
ping
churing
china rain
down the
porcelain drain
do you thnk this is weird?
down the road
across the street
in an old abode
feel the beat
an old stereo
a blast to the past
but it's been unoccupied
since years' past
yep, that's mildly weird, Secret, but you'll have to practice some more to come up with a really, really, really weird poem :)
Dark, I like yours.
Thank you
dark wall black veil of night, cold-space cosmic suction
tomcat-in-boots,
enlighten us
show us the way to daily exhalation!
these worn-out symbols won't do for lunch
NO! NO! NO!
poor us, we must have a three-course meal:
repress - regress - regret,
repent, you serpentine amalgamation!
he is my lizard and my love,
would that he never were.
the beginning is nigh!
queue up and wait to be born!
too young begoggled for too old,
too bold enthrottled by too still,
oh fie, oh cross, oh pelican,
I smell your barbarous blood!
swish swish your rapier have at you mouse!
Who, by all means, taught the boy this stupidity?
Thus spake the landlord crook-nosedly.
Oh sublime spirit of minute enwrapment,
brush thy worshipers with thy arctic wings!
Ship off the buttered film from our eyes and
dagger our bowels through freeze-dried.
crow-circle against orange clouds,
wuuaargh
uaaaargh
bluuaaaargh
arachnoid, HO!
Azure inflatable llama furs!
the latest craze from Malmidar!
Buy one get one free!
gooooody, gooooody, gooooody
'atta boy!
If all is said, the nail's been hit,
the oxen faced, the camels fed,
and all the lovely pigeons dead,
Why, then, my lord, so be it!
Streached
across the arid
land
silenced
before the clock
is stuck
with no name
no call to make
Flash; click; shutter
highlighted; eye-blink
dark and light
sounds go off
ring like bells
blinding illumination
broken glass
lime light
shot off
reel; real
span around
shove; jostle
whined
back-forward
senses deadened
rewind
stop
forward
unwound
touche to the mustache
stuck in potato skins
grown from the stomach of a waitress
she never really cared
she never really noticed
and undertow forms under toes
suck me in to melody
for deflecting bullets with machettes
is impossible
it's improbable
coffee glasses and champaign mugs
used at portholes, i see clearly
as the piano stares me down
it's so intimidating
not so complicating
rush an ambulance to the graveyard
i think someone is dead there
tip-toe through the roses
they shine so bright
when dusk becomes night
temptation of nicotine swells my ears
like the potato skins
grown from the stomach of the waitress
i never really noticed that
she never really cared
Hello?
.
.
.
.
can
.
.
.
.
anyone
.
.
.
.
hear
.
.
.
me
.
.
.
hello?
Sin-
ful
de-
light
savoring
sweet
temp-
tation
of life
Quaking
shaking
staring with
eyes wide
open
You are the
Queen of
the night
Schooled
by your
touch
Spurned
when I
diss-
apoint
Love me
ten-
der
or love me
nev-
ver
Slave & Mistress
joined
to-
gether
I am the snow indifferent
on fields outside a train
coming from you
sunflower smile and frown,
I didn't know you were broken
until........
I must have fixed you
You are the snow indifferent
on scorched skin and that
place where light is slow
and the almost-pain that
makes us whole
lies coiled-up waiting.
Hi, Dark Muse, I like this one. I like the simple question.Quote:
Originally Posted by Dark Muse