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Kvasir

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Gender : Male Virgo Posts : 814
Join date : 2013-01-09
Age : 32
Location : Gleichgewicht

PostSubject: Re: Poetry Mon Jul 07, 2014 10:39 pm

Dying Like the Sun

There is the Rembrandt that hangs on the wall
To be something like the dust in
The corners of a wooden floor room that don’t
Serve anything useful

And the trees that bear leaves of some purpose
To be given a name and the roots that reach
To a limited ideal just to function

Of course there are the animals branching off into
Displays of pursuit and the selections made in
An either/or fashion just so the continuity
May transcend itself and become a mind
Or it could become something greater

And the wind at times twitches and there is
Not so much the feel of it as there is the
Remembrance of what it is
Like salt
Like water
Like death

Of course the words come
Only as a whisper though

And the rivers move to the sea where the earth
Still has potential and something might still
Be there but it won’t be an answer

And the overcast takes long tumultuous enormous
Strides and makes more promises than the Goddess
And the weight of it is soft and devouring
My eyes wander
My heart aches
And I wonder why I am still here.

**********************

Captains

Even when we didn’t understand why
We became outcasts to a world we
Had already mastered and drawn into our
Flasks for the steadfast journey away from
Their circles of black and white
We walk among the ruins denying every
Yolk we were born into because it created
Our destiny

We trekked those barren treacherous
Terrains that were abandoned by
The many and found nourishment
Untouched by the forced hands of
Mental bondage
Enduring with each and every step
The assault of the Sun’s harshest rays
Leathering our faces into stone
And the eagles discovered a
Reincarnation of their kin in us

Resisting because of nature not because
Of God
Simplicity puts us ahead of the curb
While complexity makes us more
Appreciative of it

Even while we acknowledge our
Limitations, our unbreakable
Tolerance for trying to cure them,
Is what sustains our reserve
But we do not need a cure
We long for one,
Our own

Always,
Always our own
So we walk into the blinding
Sun, eyes narrowed, callus hands grinding
Against the whipping wind
Knees and feet and bones and muscles
Aching with mockery
Our minds like mountains so vast they
Touch upon many things at once
Principles are like faith
Ours just differ by absolution
Sometimes, or most of the time
If we don’t want to,
We then become soldiers

Side by side we walk
Away from the palaces and
The sultans and the harps and the
Fruit and the silk spinning in the air
Away, and then against

Against the executioner and the
Ankle ball and chain and the wheel
Of chaos
Against the word
Against theory and conclusion and
Salvation
Against our most inner spirit
Because it is a universal one

Conflict is our sustenance
And when we rest underneath
A painted sky
And our words echo in an
Abyss,
And even if we don’t have an answer,
We grin
*************************
Lone Wolf

Trekking miles of the barren isolation of his soul-a metamorphosis,
He becomes a wolf among the idea of wolves,
A strange anomaly, a rift in the placidity of the water,
Detected only faintly like the memory of a pleasant scent,
The exception becomes the opposition,
The vague sense of his presence intrigues and his reluctance of inclusion,
Confuses;
The ambivalence of the pack becomes resentment,
Necessity is the only reason to persecute him,
His eyes disturb the union of the pack,
His distant howl speaks of its essence,
He is needful but also accursed with the capacity to overcome,
The streams offer more than the quench of thirst but the camaraderie
Of peace and even freedom,
The resemblance of the pack takes on that of the sheep,
His existence becomes determined by the preservation of himself,
Against all despair and challenges he endures,
He endures himself.
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Lyssa
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Jul 26, 2014 9:19 pm

Quote :
Crow Blacker Than Ever

When God, disgusted with man,
Turned towards heaven,
And man, disgusted with God,
Turned towards Eve,
Things looked like falling apart.

But Crow Crow
Crow nailed them together,
Nailing heaven and earth together-

So man cried, but with God's voice.
And God bled, but with man's blood.

Then heaven and earth creaked at the joint
Which became gangrenous and stank-
A horror beyond redemption.

The agony did not diminish.

Man could not be man nor God God.

The agony

Grew.

Crow

Grinned

Crying: "This is my Creation,"

Flying the black flag of himself. [Ted Hughes]

_________________


"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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Lyssa
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sun Jul 27, 2014 9:07 pm




Lethe

Come to my heart, you tiger I adore.
You sullen monster, cruel and speechless spirit;
Into the thickness of your heavy mane
I want to plunge my trembling fingers' grip.

I want to hide the throbbing of my head
In your perfume, under those petticoats,
And breathe the musky scent of our old love,
The fading fragrance of the dying rose.

I want to sleep! to sleep and not to live!
And in a sleep as sweet as death, to dream
Of spreading out my kisses without shame
On your smooth body, bright with copper sheen.

If I would swallow down my softened sobs
It must be in your bed's profound abyss -
Forgetfulness is moistening your breath,
Lethe itself runs smoothly in your kiss.

My destiny, from now on my delight,
Is to obey as one who has been sent
To guiltless martyrdom, when all the while
His passion fans the flames of his torment.

My lips will suck the cure for bitterness:
Oblivion, nepenthe has its start
In the bewitching teats of those hard breasts,
That never have been harbour of a heart. [Baudelaire]

_________________


"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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Lyssa
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jul 30, 2014 2:38 am

Bitch
—by Conghalaigh

i was inlove once
have proof
words
written in the scent of you
words
damn
i was hardcore in love
fool
eejet a madman
damn you life
for the lesson
for all that pain
to make me who i am
ohbloody
THINGS
youbitch whore of a life
could i not
just be a shepherd
herding sheep
inlove with me land
with its lore
and never scrambled by
the love of a woman
good
bad
hell
using excuses of humanity
for acts of faithlessness
eachone says
that first bitch ruined you for the rest of us
but hey honey
come here
listen up
YOU'RE A BITCH TOO
oh yeah
you love me
but i have seen love
and yourbrand is
typical
almost
1
2
3
love him
get him weak
then bite his head off
then wonder why i don't know how to love anymore
Bitch


_________________


"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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Lyssa
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jul 30, 2014 2:38 am

can you hear me say i love you, with my hand shielding my face?
—by Conghalaigh

what's sad
is that i cannot write freely of love anymore
i tried it
in the naive past
love poems
and notes tucked in going-away bags
and was laughed off
was flat out ignored
you didn't rob me
because i gave me heart freely
but now
the fear is there
turning love poems
into regret
and unbelieving hope
wistful wishes


_________________


"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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Hrodeberto

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Mon Aug 04, 2014 6:03 pm

"If"
by: Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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Stuart-



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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Aug 30, 2014 6:45 am

Kvasir, I'd appreciate it if you posted more of your poems.
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Satyr
Daemon
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PostSubject: Captain! My Captain Thu Sep 11, 2014 1:36 pm


_________________
γνῶθι σεαυτόν
μηδέν άγαν
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Henry Quirk

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Age : 55
Location : everywhere, doin' too much

PostSubject: Re: Poetry Mon Sep 15, 2014 11:42 am

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

In The Desert  -Stephen Crane

-----

I prefer the breaks like this...

In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, held his heart in his hands, and ate of it.

I said, 'Is it good, friend?'

'It is bitter -- bitter,' he answered; 'But I like it because it is bitter, and because it is my heart.'
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Nov 19, 2014 6:00 am

Summer 2012

Written to Thomas Newman's "Angels in America", youtube.com/watch?v=-FlI3EBbSUc

AAAaaaaaaahhhhhh
Smith spring
I see it the Smith Spring
Coraleery Keeper
Kadrudadeer Sleeper
By the Smith Spring
Take your time my friend
Then jump in
Take your time my friend
When you're alone
By the Smith Spring
Look into the droadorluminary waters
Take your time my friend
Look into the droadorluminary waters
Like you see clear reflections of truth
You Coraleery Keeper
You Kadrudadeer Sleeper
Take your time my friend
No other but Santalalay seeker
Jump in

I washed ashore many years ago
Strayed anext luminary waters
Smith Spring was on my mind
When as a Kadrudadeer Sleeper
I the Coraleery Keeper

Rivers lead to the sea
That which you find and lose
Laswordaday trecker
Laswordaday trecker
I climbed the highest mountain
Laswordaday trecker

I fell and rolled
Shining spinning flux
Drunacoryfor sweeper
Down the mountain side
Drunacoryfor sweeper
Into a river

I found the Smith Spring
Streams and rivers
Drunacoryfor sweeper
Coraleery Keeper
Kadrudadeer Sleeper
Jump in my friend
Jump in
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Stuart-



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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Nov 19, 2014 6:20 am

Present

Now I walk along side the river
Which leads to the lake
No longer do I walk down river

And I climb in when the trail dims
I swim, with every sigh sweeping me down
The road elevates, the valley illuminates

Possibilities below are an illusion
No, they are a certainty
The mountain above I climb

My last ounce of energy to reach the top
If I can, or at least I would have tried
Or farther even....

The river tells me more
Than I've capable of understanding
Let the spring be my life end's final trek

If I can live with it's knowledge
Still the water will take me in time
If I stay near
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Arditezza

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Thu Dec 04, 2014 4:54 pm

My heart doesn’t have a nine to five
It doesn’t wear practical shoes
Or dress in conservative clothes
It doesn’t wear glasses or a watch
Doesn’t carry a compass or a map
This heart doesn’t have owls eyes
It can’t extinguish candlelight
Or piece together scraps of paper
It forgets to wear a hat in winter
Loves a worn sweater in summer
Hears notes between melodies
Writes volumes of jumbled words
Believes it’s got eagles wings
Elephants feet
And lions teeth
A muscle car motor
With a open sun roof
Sings haunting silent beauty
Hangs artwork in tree branches
Drowns poems tied to rocks
This heart is many things
Asking tough questions
Challenging normalcy
Testing assumptions
Dodging perceptions
Not faithful but honest
Everyone blames me
For things they didn’t ask for
But this heart isn’t synced
Wasn’t build for knowing
It needs to explore
Test waters
Go off the path
Change the conception
It lives by the rule of no rules
If you had stopped to listen
You could have heard it beating
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Arditezza

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Thu Dec 04, 2014 4:58 pm

Drums of Summer

The thought of you, musing on my sodden brain
Splayed like an overweight grease ball on a filthy couch
Taunting me with a maggoty morsel of rotted heart
To fill my hunger with insolent and caustic contempt
There are no grey hairs that streak my aged soul
No fondness or motes of wisdom in regards to you
I cannot turn myself inside out in futile hope
That I can change a past that isn’t worth it
You played out your love on the beat of my heart
With your crude clubs of insecurity and cowardice
The droning rhythm, like a war song for marching
All the while, your cavalry circled and retreated
And I stood at the ready, when I heard the shot
Fired from behind, across the corpses of dead hope
My dreams lay like an army of men in hospital beds
Casualties and a heart as battered as a poets journal
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Hrafn



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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Dec 06, 2014 2:06 pm

Rainer Maria Rilke

I Live My Life In Widening Rings

I live my life in widening rings
which spread over earth and sky.
I may not ever complete the last one,
but that is what I will try.

I circle around God, the primordial tower,
and I circle ten thousand years long;
and I still don't know if I'm a falcon, a storm,
or an unfinished song.


Autumn

The leaves are falling, falling from far away,
as though a distant garden died above us;
they fall, fall with denial in their wave.

And through the night the hard earth falls
farther than the stars in solitude.

We all are falling. Here, this hand falls.
And see — there goes another. It’s in us all.

And yet there’s One who’s gently holding hands
let this falling fall and never land.

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Dec 06, 2014 8:17 pm

Henry Quirk wrote:
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

In The Desert  -Stephen Crane

-----

I prefer the breaks like this...

In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, held his heart in his hands, and ate of it.

I said, 'Is it good, friend?'

'It is bitter -- bitter,' he answered; 'But I like it because it is bitter, and because it is my heart.'

I like this a lot.
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perpetualburn

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Tue Dec 16, 2014 4:28 pm

Viking

He’s ready to the storm the castle gates,
These swollen muscles raging on possessed limbs.
And not even all the heavens’ fastened fates
Are ready for this inflamed moment where life brims.

Now birds of prey circle glowing hot flesh,
Ripe with the season of death’s fresh catch.
So many bodies bloody with courage fresh
Feed a flight too free for cowards to ever match.

Now pound your chest and hear the raven’s song,
Perching yourself far away from those happy endings.
Valhalla still needs its agents of timely death strong
to sing from the eternal heart at all battlefield weddings.

So pickup your sword and don’t mind these skulls
That litter the field like washed up empty seashells.
Death might wash away but it never lulls,
So listen to the full wisdom that exposed bone yells.

Now flex your talons and sharpen those eagle eyes,
And dive straight into the vision that never dies.


Last edited by perpetualburn on Tue Dec 16, 2014 8:32 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Arditezza

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Tue Dec 16, 2014 6:42 pm

I'd built you a train
If I could promise
That the stations
You could visit
Were filled with
Memories of my childhood
Lost from your mind
In the distance now
I see the water rise on the bay
Taste salt spray from my eyes
Feel the weight of the rocks
Sad that those moments
Slipped out of your tide
I can do nothing
But watch you drift
Paddling furiously
The anchor tied tightly
Around my heart
I stare at my wall
The lithograph of you
With sails of white silk
Gliding, guided by the stars
That navigate my synapses
Faded paper images
Of you in the sun

12.16.2014
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perpetualburn

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Dec 17, 2014 9:13 pm

How you crowd my thoughts when you are near or far,
Innocent flower who bends space like some greedy star.
Every path flows from you with delicate outstretched petals
And leads back to the heart hot enough to burn pure metals.



How many tired stars pass through this isolated midnight station
Where words too poetic spiral down into endless cups of coffee
This place, dark enough to glow with a known mysterious affiliation
Offers the stillness of night where dreams may unwind into something lofty.

Now a cool mist opens to a warm inward lit window
Where two lovers exchange glimpses into an untold story,
So heavy that it keeps fading back into a wandering shadow
Until two cloud curtains close again on this light leading allegory.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Dec 19, 2014 4:34 pm

Shaking touch and erratic wind
Of pregnant life on painted veil
Mirror a storm so undisciplined
Stillness appears born to prevail.

---

Spring, happy to sing this wounding
That turns into my side and won’t be defeated,
Because only your voice, sounding
Sweeter than blood, restores everything depleted.

---

My first movement, where did you begin?
Only in longing did you give birth
To an overflowing stream found in sin,
And rescued back to the deepest earth.

---

She wants you to find what can never be lost so you can keep returning at any cost. And now life floats back again to a gold surface, sovereign, free to lose itself in the ocean’s royal service.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Tue Dec 23, 2014 6:09 pm

Dwell like a rock.
Spring like a flower.
And sing and mock
With unmoved power.

---

Still like endless night
Beasts wait hungry to conquer
Waves of fresh pure light
That can’t feed the dark proper.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jan 07, 2015 3:45 pm

The smell of gasoline drifting from its desert origin.
This fast fill station so perfectly placed on a sunny hill
Reminds us of a place that feels the full heat of religion,
But a higher burning keeps our quick senses temperate still.

And like the sands of time we laughed at the passing
Of sights and smells that ignite poorer imaginations
To give over and kill without ever grasping
A love so surpassing death dies for richer creations.

And here we always meet, at the station of our heart
Looking at each other as if we were in a dream
Seeing for the first time different eyes so supreme
That bright flames burst into vision, keeping us apart.


Last edited by perpetualburn on Thu Dec 03, 2015 1:33 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jan 07, 2015 4:23 pm

It is nice to see a little concern for metric, this day and age.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Thu Jan 08, 2015 9:19 pm

If this is goodbye forever, then by forever I will stay,
Bound to the gold ring I place on your finger
To circle the flesh like some ghostly figure
Who, keeping with the queen, is always turning and fading away.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:05 pm

He passes by, and, without even glancing your way,
You wonder if he can hear you calling
From the bottom of your heart still falling
In silence, waiting for a look that says OK let’s play.

But always he looks past your best put on face. Yet, like the sun so turned on
By the colorful flowers of the earth
Singing to the sound of discordant birth
He remotely calls back, rising in you like the sweet agony of dawn.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Jan 10, 2015 2:32 pm

Your face, opening just so, allows everyone to see
A light from the most intimate mirror
That brings their lustful eyes ever nearer,
But in whose reflection only I am meant to be.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Mon Jan 12, 2015 12:33 pm









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perpetualburn

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jan 14, 2015 3:52 pm

Lyssa wrote:



I see you and raise you...

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jan 14, 2015 3:54 pm

All around us the earth digests, and, breathing heavy,
Exhales a puff of cryptic fog
Where suddenly the lowest frog,
Bubbling with light, gives royal birth to our mind’s belly.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Wed Jan 14, 2015 8:38 pm

perpetualburn wrote:
Lyssa wrote:



I see you and raise you...








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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Jan 16, 2015 1:25 am

Evading a hungry forest monster, I dream distressed, until
Finding your face in the dark of night
Covered in the moon’s rich milky light
You look at me calmly, effortlessly waking a sleeping will.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Jan 16, 2015 1:43 am

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Lyssa
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Jan 16, 2015 6:28 am

Supra-Aryanist wrote:


Forest monster?



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Hrodeberto

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Fri Jan 16, 2015 10:57 am

Lyssa wrote:
Supra-Aryanist wrote:


Forest monster?




Has to be.
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perpetualburn

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Jan 17, 2015 4:13 pm

A dense sun, vanishing at an astonishing rate, quickly
But calmly works its royal magic
In muscles sculpted by the fabric
Of a nude dream, appearing to the gold digging night princely.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sun Jan 18, 2015 5:10 pm

An unexpected cold suspends first contact, leaving the secret of sin
Waiting in frost bitten fruit
For a sure sun to shoot
A warm kiss, and, for a moment, end forever the winter on her skin.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sun Jan 25, 2015 3:54 pm

Falling into you like an angel forsaking the sky
Who becomes enraged to know
That the light you calmly show
Was meant for another being more uplifted than I,

You gently force me to return to myself ever stronger
By playfully but painfully
Turning away from those that can’t raise themselves any longer.
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Hrodeberto

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sun Jan 25, 2015 7:47 pm

"In Durance"
Ezra Pound

(1907)
I am homesick after mine own kind,
Oh I know that there are folk about me, friendly faces,
But I am homesick after mine own kind.

'These sell our pictures'! Oh well,
They reach me not, touch me some edge or that,
But reach me not and all my life's become
One flame, that reaches not beyond
My heart's own hearth,
Or hides among the ashes there for thee.
Thee'? Oh, 'Thee' is who cometh first
Out of mine own soul-kin,
For I am homesick after mine own kind
And ordinary people touch me not.
And I am homesick
After mine own kind that know, and feel
And have some breath for beauty and the arts.

Aye, I am wistful for my kin of the spirit
And have none about me save in the shadows
When come they, surging of power, 'DAEMON,'
'Quasi KALOUN.' S.T. says Beauty is most that, a
'calling to the soul'.
Well then, so call they, the swirlers out of the mist of my soul,
They that come mewards, bearing old magic.

But for all that, I am homesick after mine own kind
And would meet kindred even as I am,
Flesh-shrouded bearing the secret.
'All they that with strange sadness'
Have the earth in mockery, and are kind to all,
My fellows, aye I know the glory
Of th' unbounded ones, but ye, that hide
As I hide most the while
And burst forth to the windows only whiles or whiles
For love, or hope or beauty or for power,
Then smoulder, with the lids half closed
And are untouched by echoes of the world.

Oh ye, my fellows: with the seas between us some be,
Purple and sapphire for the silver shafts
Of sun and spray all shattered at the bows;
And some the hills hold off,
The little hills to east of us, though here we
Have damp and plain to be our shutting in.

And yet my soul sings ‘Up!' and we are one.
Yea thou, and Thou, and THOU, and all my kin
To whom my breast and arms are ever warm,
For that I love ye as the wind the trees
That holds their blossoms and their leaves in cure
And calls the utmost singing from the boughs
That Hhout him, save the aspen, were as dumb
Still shade, and bade no whisper speak the birds of how
'Beyond, beyond, beyond, there lies . . .'
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Jan 31, 2015 2:17 pm

Rilke wrote:
All feeling, in figures and actions,
becomes endlessly vast and light.
I will not rest until I've achieved it,
this: to find the images for my transformations.
The rising fall of song is not enough.
Once and for all I must make the attempt
to utter into visibility
what hardly happens when it’s felt.

Rilke wrote:
Now the hour bows down, it touches me, throbs
metallic, lucid and bold:
my senses are trembling. I feel my own power —
on the plastic day I lay hold.

Until I perceived it, no thing was complete,
but waited, hushed, unfulfilled.
My vision is ripe, to each glance like a bride
comes softly the thing that was willed.

There is nothing too small, but my tenderness paints
it large on a background of gold,
and I prize it, not knowing whose soul at the sight,
released, may unfold . . .
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Sat Jan 31, 2015 2:19 pm

On the skin of angels a metallic voice screams
Of the active seasons fading
To more industrial shading,
Leaving unseen a ripe silver city of dreams.
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PostSubject: Re: Poetry Mon Feb 02, 2015 1:48 pm

You had a chance;
You had a choice;
The former you withheld;
The latter you withdrew;
Courage you dismantled;
Honesty you disdained;
In silence you exposed;
In lies you excelled;
Consequences therein contemptuous;
Connections herein contraindicated.

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PostSubject: Re: Poetry

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Poetry
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