A Poem Thread

Division of Resistance


feed the hungry soul of the eagle,
watch it glide with the drafts of the canyon,
sublime, and one with the sky.

home again, the call betrays the weary,
the long march of wisdom nears its close,
an eye of doom, an orb of fortune,
gazes with daunting and guile.

oggled masses of lavender,
trace themselves to forlorn hollows,
lanterns to the world of the unknown.

oceanic dreams pulse and rhyme,
with hidden signs from places veiled,
waiting for oppurtunity to waver.

guilds of the frivolous and senile,
help with the untimely dark ascension,
a tower of battlespeak laughs at the easy prey.
 
gendanken, one word, trippy. and this one line I love in particular:

slaps the burgeois grin off your face and makes of you a serious delusionist

airavata, good stuff, no if ands or butts about it. the one verse I truly worship:

oggled masses of lavender,
trace themselves to forlorn hollows,
lanterns to the world of the unknown.

:m: :D
 
oh, what a lame ass i am

i put my other poetry in that satan topic thingy. *wink*

ok, so here's something to contribute to the pile of enormously overly talented group! let's hope it doesn't undermine the scale.

----Mental armor---
We live and breathe,
greed and corruption
needs to be taken

programmed how to look, feel, act,
When can I have my life?

Money in my pocket to buy
the perfect clothes, body,
the perfect fit,
Who is bothering to look?

needed to suffer
in order to find a new way out
in order to drink and smoke

the tear on my face
like the blood acid rain
waiting for the sun again
I want to get up in the morning

to feel a new high
a new revelation inside
growing and exploding
all the way inside my gut

All that mental armor
rips inside while
others look at me

their eyes
fill up the heat
and I show them
the scars
Whos ashamed?

it's a brand new world guys
and I'm gonna have some fun

I need to validate some kind
of need, and break my mental
armor and slice the cell
that is the wasting away inside
and I'm alive again

and what a world it is!

-Veronika(aka Marigny)
 
oceanic dreams pulse and rhyme,
with hidden signs from places veiled,
waiting for oppurtunity to waver.

The last two lines here are perfect. You are opening up a new sonic realm- the colors in your voice are beuatifully juxtaposed. You have very soft sounds- signs, veiled, waver- and you have hard sounds- place, oppurtunity, and they mesh. The rhythm here also sounds very natural. In the first line, however, 'oceanic' is a pretty clumsy word choice- aquatic would be better, I think.

Pretty verse, but I am left scratching my head as to the intent. You have 5 little vignettes. In the 3rd and 4th vignettes you gain some consistency- in the clouding and rediscovery of the unknown, you lose it in the 5th, and the overall message of your poem is still vague. However, I really like your voice- you have an ear the sonically beuatiful.

Keep posting in our lovely poem thread!

Here's one of mine.

Seven Feet

We packed as the Raritan
Lurched out, swallowing
Boxes, shovels, aggregate junk.

It was up to our knees
When we left for the north on 78,
Making
Frantic funk

When the floodlights were dim,
The traffic hushed.

They brought us back to that
Tract
Of violets, stubby trees.

The violets
Warbled by the crick,

The rabbits’ bodies
Left out, the eyes stuck
In a slick.

“Six feet, seven feet….” The robins
Flapped up against
The deadened wind.

They brought us back to that
Tract, they brought us home, where

Our oil tank had floated, and
Still sat there, alone.
 
[terraforming the heaven]

slowly flowing, gently forming,
liquid bodies, thoughts are falling
through the hands into the earth.

flowers burning in the rainbows,
raindrops, smearing up the colours,
dashing laughter down the skyways

old gods are dying, awaking, weeping,
stretching for a healing hand,
pleading to remain.

blood on altars glowing, melting,
putting stamps on doors and prayers,
locking down the smoking graves.

hawks are hunting, feathers flying
and gates are falling, angels crying,
heaven becomes a second earth.

----------

don't really know about this one. seems a bit childish or
khemm, really duno :eek:
 
Etched in Stone

Etched in stone, their words alone
Would guide us in this role;
T'was Paradise they sacrificed
From the fire and brimstone in their soul.

When did men start spinning worlds apart?
They've trapped us between two poles;
Heaven's gate will just not wait,
Til the patriarchs lose control.

Trapped in Paradise from malevil lies,
It wasn't Eve who caused the human race to fall!
They've all but forgot, we inbred children of Lot;
His daughters' lust reminds us all.

Where is the grace bestowed upon the human race
If mortality was our greatest cost?
Words etched in stone won't save men alone,
Paradise is forever lost.

Just look around, where is salvation found?
In our female spirit where they've lost control!
Forever lost, no resurrected host
Can save men from the fire and brimstone in their soul.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
Patriarchal Hell

There is no salvation
As I see it,
There's no way out
Our soul decrees it.

Their tribal bondage
Made us victims, it's true,
How could we live
With a doctrine so untrue?

Our spirit escapes us,
It's finally leaving!
We don't need to catch it,
The patriarchy is grieving!

As we lay down our tired body,
And let the Goddess prevail,
We put out the fire
Of their patriarchal hell.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
Cottonwood Lies

The tree is alive, it even has eyes,
And a belly waiting for birth.
But Cottonwood lies and as the spirit dies,
It sucks the life out of Earth.

Its branches are broken,
In the trunk, there's a hole,
Birds never fly under
Trees with no soul.

Good children stay clear
Of trees bearing switches!
They've known through the ages,
Trees are like witches!

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
The Spirit in Bondage

Human nature binds to the Earth,
What our soul lifts from above;
Our human flesh is trapped in between,
With free will as we search for love.

When bondage shifts on human plane,
Our soul, it tries to bind;
Fear, Hell's harbinger, in this worldly domain,
Replaces love as a state of mind.

Was it destiny we would be slaves of dual forces,
That pull on our minds with surrealistic tension,
Til our existence is taut, and our intellect bends,
Then become frail victims of our human addictions?

You martyrs of fear, salvation is lost
Somewhere in the bondage of your human chains,
Then only your faith can set your soul free
From death when the spirit inside you reigns.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
Saving Myself

The choices I've made,
Were not always wise;
I judged with my heart,
But not with my eyes.

Blind faith was my downfall,
I truly believed,
That you really loved me--
Was I ever deceived!

You're a child in men's clothing
And unsure of your role,
Love just couldn't conquer
Your alcoholic soul.

Guilt has escaped
This decision I've made
To face the future alone,
And I'm not afraid.

You destroyed your life
To keep your drunken state,
How could you love anyone,
When you're so filled with self-hate?

Your burdens were upon me,
But I truly believed that
My love would sure heal you--
Now you're gone--I'm relieved.

I packed your belongings,
And dried all my tears,
And I don't want to see your
For at least ten million years.

If you wake up sober,
You'll know what you've lost,
You just can't replace it
No matter the cost.

I've lived in your misery,
And cried in your beer,
But I realized this morning,
You're not worth one lousy tear.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
Ashes to Ashes

She was never a sister, but sometimes a wife.
She lived all alone nearly all of her life.

She wanted a family, and a man she could trust,
What she thought was love, turned out to be lust.

She went far away when she was eighteen.
She never came home a young girl again.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Mourn not the maiden who's lost all her trust.

The world was her oyster, in pearls she had trust,
The sky was the limit; her pearls turned to rust.

She sailed on an ocean of raven disgust,
Into the abyss of dolor her life had been thrust.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Mourn not the woman who's lost all her trust.

Though no words were heard spoken, she looked all around.
Her alien anger turned her life upside down.

She peered out from the portals of her primitive cage,
And ascended the zenith of her savage rage.

No one could see, from her shell she had burst.
No one could tell that she'd shed all her crust.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Mourn not the old crone who's lost all her trust.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Mourn not the young girl who's lost all her trust.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
I think what Avatar is trying to say is that this is an original poems thread, not a thread where you post other people's poems. If you could post a link it would be better.
Thanks Congrats :) Actually the poem is what it's about...division of resistance. The 3rd verse is vaguely connected to secrecy and reconaissance. The 4th verse is about plans being hidden in regularity, waiting for an oppurtunity to break free and declare their true allegiance at a signal. Thanks anyway, it's good when someone analyses your stuff. I like your poem. One line i find really good..
Making Frantic funk
. I love frantic funk.. nice expression. This is a good thread... i've seen some really good stuff here. Anyway, my latest -

Avalone of the Celtic Wold


spirit of friendly soul,
side by side, wake the mile,
feed the darkest hour of the moon.

wait for the angels of Arthur to speak,
bow down to the bearer of the grail,
shining forth with untameable radiance.

search for the pain of war still residing,
on Avalone, in Mordreth- dark usurper,
swallowed up by Celtic mystery.

hoard the treasures of the old,
make promises of folly,
wake up the silent, sleeping tombstones.

the tresses of the maids of honour relax,
bringing out the shapeliness of them,
fall in obeisance to the conqueror.

cross the straits of narrow ice,
hold the moment lost to time for an eternity,
bask in power gained through the weird.

the dogs of doom cry their millenial call,
the devil's tamer prepares his satire,
the ice of rage covers Avalone again.
 
Earth Base One

Should I ever leave here,
Or disappear without a trace,
Don't bother looking for me
On my trek to inner space.

I always travel lightly;
I always go alone,
I never buy a ticket
To return to Earth Base One.

Slumber seems to free me
Flying in the night,
The morning star awakens me
From my celestial flight.

I'll see you in the heavens;
We'll dance around the sun,
As our spirits are enlightened,
We'll return to Earth Base One.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
His hands

His hands
Hold mine, larger
In width and length
Fingers near twice mine.
Their skin soft and warm
Miniature arms in all
Thick blue veins
Tell weather
Nails rounded at finger tops
Tips hardened by music notes
Knuckles crack nuts
I love him all
 
Goddesses

Goddesses don't lie.
Goddesses don't die.
Goddesses don't make love to mortal men.
Mortal men say 'good-bye.'

Goddesses don't faint.
Goddesses aren't saints.
Saints are worshipped by sinners.
Goddesses are spiritual winners.

Goddesses inherit the Earth.
Mortal men can't give birth.
The patriarchy tells you lies.
A Goddess never dies.

Mortal men have lost their Soul.
Goddesses won't grow old.
Mortal men have pride and greed.
Goddesses don't die, we only bleed.

Goddesses like you and me,
Created the world to set it free.
Mortal men will never see
The Goddess in you and me.

~ by Kristin Kerley, American Poet
 
Medicinelady, you mind posting a link to all these poems? This is a thread for ORIGINAL poetry, not stuff by other poets. It's getting irritating especially when all the stuff here was original, member stuff. If you want us to read some poetry of kirsty whoever just post a link or start a seperate thread. Don't throw this one off.
 
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